#AND WHEN HE STOPPED WORKING THERE YOU THEN SAID FUCK IT AND MOVED BACK TO RUSSIA TO APPEASE THE GHOST OF YOUR DAD

[otakubimbo]

Sick Days

Sylus x MC!Reader

Sylus couldn't get in contact with you and he knew that being a hunter was a dangerous job but what you had wasn't an injury to your body per say. It was an injury to your immune system. AKA Sylus taking care of you when you're very very sick

OB: Hi I started writing this while i had covid back in august and I'm working on clearing out all of my old fic drafts so bear with me on any other updates

masterlist

A groan escapes your lips as you forcefully peel your eyes open. Your throat hurts, your head hurts, your body hurts, everything hurts. It took you a bit to register that the banging wasn’t in your head, but it was at your front door. Every cell in your body screaming at you to stay in your bed, but the knocking just wouldn’t stop.

As you sit up out of bed, your head immediately spins from the sudden motion.

“Fuck,” you attempt to steady yourself before fully getting out of bed, but it was hard. You tried to take a deep breath but that just caused you to have a coughing fit. The burn in your throat and chest is almost unbearable. The toll of whatever sickness you had had a harsher effect on your body than you thought. Initially, you assumed you could have just slept off whatever it was but now you were so sure.

Slowly, you struggle your way to the front door, blanket securely wrapped around you since you were freezing. Eventually, you get your door open as you glare at a well-dressed chest, your eyes racking up to see the owner of said chest. It was, of course, Sylus.

“Well, hello there, kitten. Nice to finally see you.” He smirks down at you for just a moment before noticing the state you were in, gently pushing you back to enter your space, closing the door behind him.

“What are you doing here Sylus?” You ask, your voice is scratchy and hoarse.  Sylus brow creases as he gives you a once over.

“Mephesto claims you haven’t left your house in two days, and you haven’t been answering my messages or phone calls.” He says as he raises a hand to your forehead to gauge your temperature. You swat his hand away as you realize what he was saying. Two days? You haven’t left for two days??? You were just at work yesterday when you got sent home, right? Holding your hand out, you request him to hand you his phone which he does with no complaint. Ignoring the picture of the two of you as his lock screen and notice that in fact it had been two entire days since you had been home. You shove his phone back into his hand and shuffle back to your room to look for your phone. There it sat on your nightstand, still on the charger, opening it up to see several messages and missed calls from Sylus of course but some from Luke and Kieran, a few from Jenna and Tara telling you to get well soon, along with a few from Rafayel, Xavier, and Zayne.

“I-“ you stutter as you sit down on your bed, “ I guess I’ve been in and out of sleep this whole time.” You say with a frown, attempting to rub the pain out of your head. As you go through the numerous texts, a coughing fit erupts making Sylus run over to rub your back. He tries to soothe you as your fit dies, rubbing your back gently as you calm down, taking the blanket from around you, pushing you to lay down and tucking you in. You hadn’t even realized that you were truly TUCKED in until Sylus is running a hand over your cheek and you can’t move.

“Let me out Sylus” You struggle from how tightly he tucked you in, but you didn’t have any real strength in you to get out.

“No can do, kitten. You’re sick and I’ll just have to take care of you.” He puts his hand on your forehead to truly check your temperature. You were burning up and it took everything in Sylus to keep a neutral face, he was worried about you. He had originally thought, you had just buried yourself in work again but seeing you in this state does something to his heart that he doesn’t like. You were such a strong woman and now where you were, weak and frail and not from any wanderer just from what was probably the common cold.  

“I’ll be fine, I can take care of myself.” You refute, struggling yet again but not putting up much of a fight. Theres a slight twitch in Sylus expression as he watches you.

“Please” Sylus voice comes out just above a whisper and you stop moving. It caught you off guard and you stopped fighting. “Thank you, so stubborn” he kisses the top of your head as you scoff.

You hadn’t even realized that you were falling asleep until you were being woken up by Sylus gently.

“What’s going on” you look around confused as you attempt to sit up, Sylus grabs your arm helping you as a rag falls off the top of your head.

“You have to eat something Kitten.” Sylus states as he grabs a bowl of some type of soup putting the spoon up to your mouth. You take a sip of it without complaint, it soothes but hurts your throat at the same time causing a groan to come out of your mouth. Sylus inhales a deep breath, gripping the spoon harder. You weren’t getting better, if anything it seemed like you were getting worse. Your skin was getting pale, your temperature wasn’t going down, and all you were doing was sleeping and while you were sleeping you were shaking. You were in cold sweat; he had to change the rag on your head almost every thirty minutes.

“It hurts, Sy” You grimace after you try to swallow another spoon full of soap. Your voice was so weak, you looked so frail, it was literally breaking his heart to see you like this.

Sylus puts down the bowl, “Just lay down sweetie.” He helps you get back under the covers and before he can even get back with another towel for your head, you’re asleep.

Now Sylus was a prideful man for sure, but for you, for you he would do anything, for you he would put aside his pride. He knew he couldn’t just call any sort of doctor because of the aether core in your heart, so he knew he had to call your doctor, Doctor Zayne. But oh, did he hate Dr.Zayne, YOUR Dr.Zayne. Sylus just knew that man was in love with you, your childhood friend who spent his life becoming a heart surgeon and then being your personal doctor. Tsk, he’s heard of the whole childhood friends to lover’s trope, he wasn’t a dumb man. He wasn’t dumb, but he was desperate, and he needed you to get better. It had already been a full day since he had been in your place, and you just kept getting worse. Begrudgingly he picked up your phone and did what he had to do.  

You don’t remember much in your sick haze. It was hard to even distinguish what was really going on or what was part of your fever dreams. You lucidly remember Sylus waking you up to give you soup and take medicine. You think you remember Zayne coming in which would make sense, he is your doctor, but you also remember Xavier? Maybe you weren’t particularly sure, it wouldn’t really make sense for him to be there, but you were sure you remembered seeing him.

Eventually, you gain a full sense of consciousness. Surprisingly, your body doesn’t ache like it has been and there isn’t an immense pressure in your head. You attempt to sit up when you notice a hand holding onto your arm, and attached to the hand was Sylus. A soft smile spreads on your face as you see him sitting most likely uncomfortably in a chair next to your bed. His head was laid beside you and his hand grasping onto your arm. You had no clue had long he had been there or how long he had been taking care of you. The pill bottles, half eaten soup and cups of water you don’t remember drinking or taking had to have come from somewhere and it wasn’t you.

“Ah, I see the kitten has finally stirred from her hibernation.” Sylus exhausted face meets your curious eyes.

“Yeah, I’m feeling much better.”  You say with a yawn and a stretch. The gaze he is giving you makes you feel small, causing you to turn away from him, “thank you”

His hand reaches out to grab your chin gently, “You had me worried, sweetie. You had a respiratory infection and pneumonia. What would have happened to you if I wouldn’t have come?” His jaw is set tight and you don’t think you would ever see the feared Onychinus leader looking scared. He was scared, scared he was going to lose you…...again.

“…… I’m sorry but you took care of me and I’m fine now. Yeah?” You say turning your head out of his hands in more embarrassment as you busy yourself with straightening out your night stand. As you pick up the bottle of pills, you notice you see that Zayne prescribed these. You glance between the bottle and then at Sylus.

He scoffs before taking the bottle from your hand, putting it back down “Well of course I had to reach out to your doctor. Your fever wouldn’t go down.”

“But you hate Zayne?”  You questioned as you tilt your head in a way that was way too cute for Sylus.

“I do not hate the doctor. I just don’t like how friendly he is with you on the occasion.” He scoffs at the giggle you let out, “And I’m aware that you are childhood friends, but the man should have some boundaries”

That makes you laugh even harder, not THE Sylus Quin talking about boundaries. He wouldn’t know a boundary if it shot him in the heart. It was sweet, he was being so sweet.

“Yeah, I thought seeing him was just a fever dream I was having actually. Funny enough, I thought I also saw my friend Xavier here.”

The noise that leaves Sylus had you holding back the biggest laugh that you could possibly muster. So in fact you had not imagine Xavier, he had actually been there and surprisingly Sylus let him in.

“Another one of your ‘friends’ who needs to work on their boundaries. He came over in the middle of the night questioning about your whereabouts after sending you NUMEROUS texts and phone calls. He was insistent on seeing you or he would have gotten your little hunter association involved and I didn’t think you would want that.” He groans with this cute pout on his face. “It seems you have a lot of these type of ‘friends’ who lack any type of boundaries. You should work on that sweetie.”

You reach out to grab his face making him look at you, his gaze softened when he saw your face “Thank you for taking care of me, Sy.”

He grabs your hand a places a small kiss upon the back of it, “Of course Kitten”

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Azriel x reader

Word count: +3400

Warnings: none (?)

Summary: When love becomes a painful burden and you can't stand it anymore, you decide to turn it into hate, avoiding its source at any cost. However, Azriel has enough and seeks you out.

When I wrote it in my head (late at night of course), it was perfect. But I forgot the exact wording😮‍💨 Now I'm not so sure about this. Also I bit changed the intended end to cut down the word count

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy it

Despite my resolve to not to look in that direction, my eyes darted to the dance floor again and again, pulled by power stronger than my will. Pain sharp like dagger carved deep into my heart as I watched Azriel dancing with some female whom he just met at bar. Their bodies seemed to be glued together as their hips swayed in the rhythm of the music, even their foreheads were touching. Female's arms wrapped around his strong shoulders and neck, sliding down and back up his biceps and chest only to once again return back to their start point, holding him close. Pulling him closer. He didn't seem to mind it though as his own hands travelled all over her body, squeezing soft flesh wrapped in tight mini-dress at times.

I felt bile rising in my throat and turned back to my drink, wishing it was something stronger than just mojito—something that would burn not only my throat, but also my heart with all the traitorous feelings. I wished I had never made that mistake and fallen in love with him. Things would be much easier.

We used to be friends, really close friends. However, ever since I realized I felt something more for him, my feelings kept deepening with every passing day to the point it physically hurt to even look at him. He didn't seem to feel the same way though, not noticing anything, and I was too scared of refusal and never confessed. After just few months I was so agonized that I couldn't even step out of my room without bursting into tears and that's when I decided to rather hate him than to suffer like that.

I started ignoring him, avoiding him at any cost, twisting everything into anger. I went so far as not even answering him when he directly spoke to me. It still hurt, but it was more manageable kind of pain than what I felt before. This was how I had lived for the last two years, working hard to build the wall of the hatred around my heart brick after brick, yet I had a long journey ahead of me.

I threw the straw on the table and knocked back half of my drink, trying to think about anything except of what was happening to my left. I was so focused that I noticed Cassian only when he tapped his glass to mine.

"What are we drinking to?"

"To fucked up life."

Cassian's guttural laughter was so loud that it even overbeat the pulsing bass of the music.

"To fucked up life then," he toasted and got his drink down in one gulp. He was in his element, beaming with excitement.

Rita's was full of all kinds of faeries as usual, the dance floor pulsed with life, bodies swaying, alcohol flowing. After the warm-up drinks, our group fell apart — some were at bar, some were dancing and some disappeared to who-knows-where. Cassian was the first one to mingle between the dancers. It was almost midnight, yet this was the very first time he stopped for a while. Well, stopped.. His body was somehow managing to keep moving along the music even while he was sitting.

He reached over the table, caressing my cheek, his expression softened. "You need to learn how to let go, doll."

"It's easier said than done," I sighed and straightened up to get away from his reach. I used to be quite touch starved person, enjoying every contact with persons dear to me, but lately I could hardly stand anyone in my close proximity.

His eyes narrowed at me for a second, but he said nothing and drumming fingers on the table turned to the dance floor. He bit on his bottom lip. Devilish smile spread on his face and he turned back to me.

"Then I'll help you."

"Help me with what exactly?" I frowned, already having bad feeling.

"To let go. Come!" He raised a brow, jerking his head toward that maze of bodies. "Come," he repeated, offering me his big hand when I didn't react.

Out of the corner of my eye, I gazed at the full dance floor. "No, never," I grimaced. "I'd rather die than to do that."

"Come! I promise you will have fun."

"I can't dance." All my friends knew that, including Cassian. I wasn't willing to dance even where nobody could see. That kind of activity simply wasn't up to my liking nor ability.

"I'll teach you."

"No."

"I'm not accepting no as an answer this time," he grinned, rounded the table and gripped both of my hands, pulling me with him. He was too strong. I followed him involuntarily, squeezing in between dancing bodies. He took me to the back where weren't so many faeries and we didn't have to jostle with others. Only then he let go of my hands. I immediately crossed them on my chest, feeling awkward.

"Relax," he pulled me closer, his hands on the small of my back. I pulled my lips into thin line, frowning. I didn't like this at all. "Just feel. Let the music lead you."

"The music leads me back to the table," I grunted to which he laughed.

"Just bit move that ass of yours. Like this." He gripped my hips, pulling on and pushing them to demonstrate the movement he wanted me to do.

"Geez, you are so stiff," he was laughing his ass off. The small amount of alcohol I drank finally kicked in. There was nothing funny on this, yet I couldn't help myself and giggled.

"That's it," he praised me when I did as he instructed. "Just like that."

When I got used to the motion, he let go of my hips and took a step back to have a better view. "And now add legs." He demonstrated several simple moves and I tried to mirror them. I felt like idiot.

"You are doing great. Don't stop." He again stepped closer and took me by waist. We danced together for a while, Cassian's mouth never closing — showering me with praise, stupid jokes and stories — and I really had fun just as he'd promised.

"That hardly can be called dance. Let me show you how to do it," a deep voice spoke somewhere behind me and shiver ran down my spine. My heart flipped at that sound and smile froze on my face. I knew that voice too well.

"As if you could dance any better," Cassian snorted, but he started retreating. I desperately grabbed fabric of sleeves on his forearms, wordlessly pleading with him to stay.

"Just have fun, doll," he shrugged and turned away, immediately finding another dance partner. I stared after him in disbelief, my back still to the newcomer. I felt him move, slowly circling me and I swallowed hard. I turned to the opposite side, determined to head back to our table, suddenly too thirsty.

Scarred hand grabbed my elbow, yanking me back and I was met with his broad chest. I didn't dare to look up.

"Not so fast, Y/N," Azriel mumbled and I wondered how it was possible that I heard him so clearly over the loud music.

"I don't dance," I retorted, pulling away. I didn't get far though, his strong arms keeping me at the place.

"I just saw you with Cassian. Just one dance. I'm not asking for too much."

No matter how desperately I searched for good reason to decline, any reason honestly, I found none. "Fine," I grunted at last.

For a while we danced and I moved as Cassian showed me, but I felt so uncomfortable.

"Try it like this," Azriel said, his hands moving to my hips.

"Don't touch me," I barked at him, my mind flooded with imagines of him touching that female not so long ago. "I don't even want to think about where your hands were before."

His body stiffened as if I slapped him and he fell out of rhythm. "I can assure you that I washed my hands properly."

He sounded hurt and I felt pang of pain in my chest. I realized the ambiguity of my own words. And because this was Azriel, he probably thought I meant his work which was quite sensitive topic for him. He didn't torture people because he enjoyed it, but because he had to—to protect this court, to protect his family.

Ignore it! I ordered myself, clenching teeth.

It took him a moment to recover. Just as we began dancing again, he keeping hands at his sides, the song ended, immediately followed by much slower one. A lot of faeries around left the dance floor. I took it as my call and followed the suit.

"Wait!" Azriel grabbed both of my hands. "We haven't even danced yet."

"But-," I stuttered.

"One song. Please."

It was that damn word please. He hardly ever used that word. He was always polite and perfect gentleman and everything, but it seemed he didn't have this word in his vocabulary. I could count on fingers of one hand how many times I heard him to say it in almost two centuries we knew each other.

"Just one song then."

"Yeah, just one," he agreed. His hands reached for my waist. "Can I?"

I just nodded, still feeling bad for unintentionally hurting him like that. He hesitated.

"You should put your hands here," he guided them to his shoulders, but I immediately let them fall to his biceps. I didn't want to hold on to him like that bitch. I inhaled sharply, surprised by the sudden strong wave of jealousy.

Hate. You aren't jealous. You hate him, I had to remind myself.

"That's also fine," he sighed, snapping me out of my spiralling thoughts. "Now you need to come a bit closer."

He gently pulled me to him. I made sure there was a wall of air between us, already sensing where he was heading. Unfortunately, I was so occupied by keeping him as far from me as possible that I didn't notice drunken faerie passing by. She dangerously swayed, unstable on her own feet, and shoved me from behind. Clumsy idiot as I was, I lost balance and once again ended up pressed to Azriel's chest. He was fast, his arms immediately wrapped around me, not letting me step away. Now our bodies were touching.. everywhere — hard parts pressing into soft ones.

I felt heat climbing up my neck, my ears already burning.

"Dance partners usually look each other in the eye," he muttered, amused. He had some guts to tease me.

My head snapped up in rush of disbelief and rage, my eyes met with honeyed hazel ones. Those warm orbs completely captivated me, imprisoned me in their depths and I couldn't look away anymore. All my thoughts vanished at once.

It was long since I properly looked at him, let alone so close up. He hadn't changed much. If anything, he was even more handsome than before.

Idiot! Stop thinking such shit! He isn't handsome. He's disgusting. Not so long ago he was touching some random female and now he's here, touching you with the same hands. He's promiscuous pig. Absolutely repulsive.

My chest heaved as I was fighting with myself, heart against mind. My heart pounded so hard it had an echo.

Wait! What a nonsense! Heart can't have echo, can it?

Just then I realized it wasn't some echo but a beat of another heart. It was Azriel's heart that hammered just as fast as mine and so strongly that I felt it through our connected bodies. And if I felt his, then he had to feel mine as well. At that thought panic started to creep up on me.

Azriel leaned down, so slowly. His warm breath fanned my face, our noses touching.

The song ended replaced by another and dance floor filled again. Azriel seemed to be too occupied and didn't even notice it, but I did. I shoved him away with all my strength.

He didn't expect it and wavered, his grip on me loosened. I jerked from his arms, recoiling. He reached for me.

"Y/N, wait.. Just one more-"

"No more dancing," I said, my voice so cold that I startled even myself. "You wanted one song and you got one. I'm done here."

I didn't wait for his reaction and showed him my back. I marched over to our table, emptied my glass in one go and even one shot that was left there. The alcohol burnt its way down my throat and I grimaced. I grabbed my things and without looking back or leaving a message to others, I left.

I stomped down the snowy road, hardly noticing the slippery ice under soles of my boots. Only once I got all the way down to the Sidra, I paused on one of the bridges, letting out an angry sigh. I drew the thick cloak closer, feeling the chill of winter night, and looked up at sky full of stars, my warm breath creating quickly disappearing puffs of steam. I was on verge of tears, angry, hurt and confused. What was that even about?

"Y/N, are you all right?"

Not again. I wanted to flee away, but his big hand blocked my way.

"Stop already running away from me!"

"Leave me alone!"

In the attempt to get away, I lost my footing on slippery stones. I would fall down into deadly cold waters if it wasn't for his strong arms that kept me upright.

"Please." There was that word again, this time even more desperate than the one before. "I can't do this anymore. Please, tell me what I've done that it made you this mad. I will apologise as many times as you wish. I'm willing to do anything to gain your forgiveness."

"I thought that when I leave you be, your anger will ease and you will eventually tell me what happened, but it's already so long and it's getting worse and worse," he continued when I just stood there, gazing down into dark waters of Sidra.

How was I supposed to tell him that he did nothing? That I was just stupidly in love with him and that I couldn't deal with my own feelings anymore? I couldn't possibly tell him that. So I was silent while cold tears rolled down my cheeks.

"I'm so desperate that I even tried to provoke you to no avail. I don't know what else to do to mend our relationship back to what it used to be. And I miss you.. so much. So please, tell me what happened, so I never again repeat the same mistakes."

He stepped closer, hugging me from behind. "Please." When he breathed out near my ear, shiver ran down my spine and my eyes closed. All strength, all fight left me and my shoulders slumped down. Azriel gently turned me around, so now I faced him. His warm hands cupped my wet and cold cheeks, his thumbs wiping tears away.

"Speak to me otherwise I-.." His voice was low, dangerously low.

"You what?" I whispered the words into silent night, needing to hear the answer.

"I.." Suddenly his face was so close that it was the only thing I saw, his breath hot on my face. My head, heart, lungs, whole my body shut down. I was just standing there, gaping, hypnotized by his sad eyes.

He waited until I inhaled and then his lips sealed over mine, his eyes holding my gaze. The kiss was slow, careful, hesitant.

I was stunned, my eyes the size of full moon above us. As the new sensation settled in, a firework boomed in my chest and I.. moaned.

He made a sound back in his throat that vibrated through whole his chest. Shutting his eyes closed, he unleashed, deepening the kiss. His lips, hard like stone and so soft at the same time, hungrily danced over mine, his tongue gently pushed into my mouth, looting and exploring.

Azriel tasted like an old whiskey Rhys poured me once from his precious collection. The rich spiced and woody taste was mixed with something sweet and delicious and I moaned again as I realised I tasted strawberries on his lips. My knees buckled and I clasped hands around his neck, my fingers tangling with strands of silky dark hair. He swallowed my moan and holding me upright, he pulled me even closer — as if it was possible — his fingers digging into my flesh.

His enormous wings wrapped around me, cutting off the rest of the world, wall of shadows protecting us from any prying eyes.

We kissed and kissed until my lungs began to burn with need for air. Yet I held on as long as I could, wanting this moment to last forever and only when I felt like I was going to faint, I slightly pushed against his shoulders. Reluctantly, his mouth released mine, but stayed close enough that I felt its every move. Both of us staggered weakly and he chuckled.

"Gods," he muttered under the breath, heaving heavily. "You taste better than I've imagined. I wanted to do this for so long."

I was still too dazed to think straight. I just knew that I was happy, my heart hammering into the ribcage so wildly as if it was trying to break through it. His lips travelled all over my face, leaving dozens of small pecks behind. As he calmed down, he hid his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply, still holding me in an iron grip.

"Why are you angry with me?" His voice was muffled by fur of my cloak. Under my cheek pressed to his shoulder, I felt his pulse, strong and fast, just like mine. I inhaled his rich scent of early morning mist in the snowy mountains.

"I'm not angry, not really." My face burned with shame. I sounded pathetic even to myself, somehow defeated. My traitorous heart wanted to believe that this was real and that it would last, while my mind was screaming that it was only a short-lived dream.

He was silent for a while, most likely putting together pieces of a puzzle. Maybe it was my salvation that he was a spymaster with a brilliant mind. I didn't have to sink to the very bottom to voice aloud just how lame and stupid I was, saving me from the most shameful moments.

"Never - do you hear me? Never do that again. There's no need for such..." I thought it impossible yet his grip grew even firmer. He sighed heavily, pushing words through clenched teeth. "-ve you."

He muttered something, but I heard only the last part of it. What did he say? No matter what I filled in, nothing made a sense.

"What?" I whimpered, hardly holding my tears back.

Azriel inhaled deeply. "-ve you."

"I.. don't understand."

He straightened up, looking into my eyes, his face deep shade of crimson.

"I said, I love you." His voice was firm, but his wings around us trembled slightly, giving out just how nervous he was.

My eyes widened in disbelief. I certainly misheard. "Eh?"

"As you heard," he looked away shyly, his hands slowly falling down, releasing me. "I started to feel it shortly after we met, but it took me too long to recognize the feeling for what it is. I was full of myself, I should have noticed your pain much sooner. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

His words tore down the dam and the tears began freely flowing down my cheeks in streams. Years of the pain and suffering for nothing.

"You are really the worst. I hate you," I sobbed.

Azriel stiffened and then chuckled when I leaned in, hiding face on his chest. "Am I? You owe me chocolate for at least last two years. And that is not all. I believe you owe me one more thing."

"What do you mean?"

He licked his lips and biting on the bottom one, he slowly pulled me into another embrace. "When someone-.. No. When I confessed to you, you were supposed to answer something like 'I love you, too', don't you think?"

I hesitantly wrapped my arms around his waist and still sobbing retorted, "as if I could say such thing so easily."

His smile only grew. "Then I have to coax it out of you," he cooed and captured my lips in another sweet kiss and another and he kept kissing me until my heart healed, mending all the wounds of the past years.

[vampzity]

Reps and Sex | BC

“Heart is racing day and night, for you. Don’t hold back enjoy the ride and let it loose.” — railway, bangchan

pairing: trainer! bangchan x f! reader

you always make sure to keep things professional between you and your personal trainer due to the differences in genders. but he makes that hard to do when things take a hot and steamy turn.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, dom! bangchan x sub! reader, praise kink, pet names (baby, angel, slut), thigh riding, clit play, yn begs to stop but it’s not in a harmful way

word count: 2.1k

“Just like that. Give me one more set baby.”

Chan watched you intently on the vertical chest press as the stack of weights lifted slowly, but surely. You pushed as hard as you could while trying not to strain yourself. Your moans and small whimpers felt like music to his ears, making his heart beat faster as he struggled to stay focused.

Easier said than done.

The way you pushed against the force of the weights, letting deep breaths out as the stacks moved up and down. How concentrated your face was and the way your chest puffed out with every push. How your face glistened with sweat from how warm you were. It turned him on in ways he couldn’t describe, through this wasn’t the first time it did so. Oh no. It’s been like this for weeks.

Chan felt like a pervert for the way he observed your body; the way your clothes hugged your curves, how plump your ass was whenever you squatted in front of him. However, your determination was the most attractive to him. You were so eager to please him, to show him you could accomplish any set he had prepared for you. The way you fed off of his words of praise. It left him with a feeling of superiority. How you obeyed him so easily as long as you received your praises.

Little did he know he was right.

You loved the praise. It gave you a feeling that you couldn’t quite describe. The pet names, the small placements of his hands. You wanted to be better for him, stronger, you wanted to work harder to make him happy. You were high off his praises.

“Chan?”

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts, giving you a small smile as you finished up your last set. He handed you your bottle of water, watching the way your throat bobbed with every swallow.

“You did great baby. Better than last time, I’m very proud of you.”

You blushed softly, looking up at his low eyes. It made him shutter at the way you looked at him. How innocent you looked below him, how pretty you would look with your swollen lips around his—

“Are you even listening??”

He did it again. He can’t help himself; you’re roaming through his head every second and it’s only dirty thoughts. Nothing else but that. It was only you two in that very moment, and god was he lucky that this gym was in his basement. He wanted so badly to resist you, but something in his mind ached, begging to be in you.

You stood up, eyebrows laced with confusion. You placed your hand on his arm, squeezing it gently as you spoke words his mind couldn’t make out. He was far gone in thought at this point, his bulge only growing at feeling your warm touch. Chan couldn’t do it anymore, he needed you and needed you badly. His body yearned to feel you.

“Fuck I can’t do this anymore.”

He grabbed your chin, pulling you to him as he crashed his lips onto yours. His free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him. You melted into his touch, your body heating up from the way he kissed you. There was so much passion, but it was so heated, like he wanted more.

He moved his head and laid small kisses against your neck, earning small whimpers from you. Chan didn’t expect you to give into him so easily, not like this. He felt the way you yearned for his touch, how your skin heated up with every inch that his lips moved.

“More.. please..”

Your voice trailed through his mind, making his cock twitch. What a whore, you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you and that’s exactly what Chan wanted.

He grabbed your arm, pulling you up the stairs until you reached the living room. Sitting on the couch, he pulled you to him all while pulling your shorts down leaving you with nothing but your panties on. He pulled you into his lap, kissing your arm softly with his other hand playing with your nipple. Your skin was so soft again his lips, making him groan softly as he inched his way further up your body.

You subconsciously grinded against his thigh, your juices soaking through your panties. His hands held onto your waist, moving with your motion as you let out small whimpers of pleasure.

“You’re so desperate baby. I didn’t realize how badly you wanted me.”

He wrapped his lips around your nipple, his tongue playing with it softly as you continued your movement. You were so close and you could feel it— how badly you wanted to let go all over his thigh. His lips went back to your neck, sucking on the skin while his thumb replaced his place on your nipple. Your back arched, your pace quickened as you felt your high getting closer.

“C’mon pretty, be a good girl and cum for me will you?”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore— between the way he pushed your hips harder against him and his thumb playing with your sensitive tip, it sent you over. The rush came fast, leaving you breathless. Your face heated up out of embarrassment, throwing your head back in relief while Chan admired the mess on his thigh.

You were getting ready to get off, but he held down your legs, digging his nails only slightly into them. You looked at him, watching face turn from soft to cold as he tilted his head. A small shiver flew up your spine, watching as he leaned over to your ear.

“You didn’t think we were done yet, did you?”

You nodded your head, feeling his hand slip down to your panties as he played with the hem. He began to tug at them slightly, signaling for you to take them completely off. In the midst of that, he too pulled his shorts down, leaving him in only his underwear. He held you by your waist, his eyes widening at your glistening cunt as it hovered above his legs.

You pulled at the underwear, pulling his cock out. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight, now fully aware of what you were about to get yourself into. At that point, you didn’t care, you were already so far along and there was no turning back now.

You held his cock in your hands, feeling it pulsate at your touch. Chan let out a small grown, his head falling back as he bucked his hips against you. He yearned for this— yearned for your touch. He weakly held your hand, pulling your body toward him.

“Brace yourself and take a seat baby.”

His statement was soft, but pleading. His eyes were dark and hooded, filled with lust as he reached to kiss your arm. His lips trailed up your body as you held him under your entrance. His tip grazed your opening, earning a small moan from him as you sat on him. You clenched around him, pausing to catch your breath as you struggled to take his girth. His lips reached your neck, making the hair stand up as his breath hit your skin with every inch that you let in.

You grinded against him slowly, feeling his tip hit your sweet spot. His hands held your waist as his head rested against your collarbone, struggling not to take bites out of your skin.

“Fuuuck, just like that.” he groaned.

His hips rolled against yours, the fabric of his underwear brushing against your clit harshly. You sucked your teeth in pleasure, whimpers escaping your mouth. Chan looked up at you, smirking at how worked up you were ontop of him. He held your chin, pulling your face to meet his gaze. Your face warmed up in his grip making you stop subtly.

“Don’t stop for me angel. Keep riding me like the slut you are.” His free hand moved your waist, forcing a steady rhythm back into you.

“Wanna see your eyes roll back baby.”

Chan’s force on your waist fastened, catching you off guard as his cock hit your sweet spot harder than before. He thrusted into you from under, pulling your chin to lock lips. He kissed you harshly, biting your lip as you whimpered. He grunted into your mouth with every time that you clenched around his length, nearly pushing him over the edge. He could feel your heart beat against his chest, your skin heating up against his.

This is exactly what he wanted— to have you wrapped around his finger.

“Chan..” you mumbled, aching for breath. “Gonna cum.”

You continued to whimper, your movements becoming restless against him as his cock rammed into you, repeatedly hitting that same spot.

“Look at you.” Chan tilted his head slightly, admiring your pleading cries. “You’re such a slut.”

He threw his head back onto the couch, feeling his tip grow swollen at the continuous pressure. He felt himself leaking, wanting so badly to spill into you but trying has hard to hold it in. He wasn’t going to let you think two times was enough, oh no.

He had rounds to go.

Your pace softened, feeling your climax coming you wanted to make it last as long as you could. Your mind was hazy as you rode him, but apart of you wanted to stay like this forever. Chan picked up on this, rolling his hips against yours as his nails dug into your soft skin.

“Don’t toy with me now. Ride me harder will you please baby?”

You gave him pleading eyes, wishing he would just let you ride out your high. Unlucky for you, he wasn’t going to go so easy on you.

His nails dug deeper into you. He leaned forward, his breath brushing against your ear.

“You heard me right baby? I hope you’re gonna do as I say.” he laid a soft kiss against your neck before going back up to your ear.

“Cause I’d hate to have to show you some discipline.”

He held tightly onto your waist, gradually fastening the pace. Your hands rested on his shoulders, squeezing them as you felt his tip brush against your sweet spot. Your back arched with every time he moved in and out of you, giving him a sense of pleasure in your whining, in all the moans he received from you.

“Fuck, Chan I can’t..”

The pressure built quickly, faster than you could prepare for. Your head fell back, riding out your high as he curved his hips upward. He knew what he was doing with this, he knew how much more pressure it gave feeling his curve inside of you. It was too much for you, but at the same time you wanted more. You wanted him, you needed him. Your juices spilled all over him, squeezing his cock as you let your climax wash over you.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.”

Chan admired you as you panted for air, as your whines grew louder. He felt his mouth drool at your state, his thumb coming up to caress your cheek as he watched you bounce on his cock. He kissed you sloppily, your moans mixing together as you got faster, harder, becoming more cock drunk on him.

He quickly put you on your back, the sudden change catching you off guard. He wrapped your legs around him as he pounded into you, his moans becoming low growls as you continuously clenched around his length.

“Yea, you like that?”

You moaned in pleasure, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head as he fucked you roughly. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you.”

His cold tone sent shivers up your spine, making you whimper a small ‘yes’ as he continued to ram into you. Chan’s groans got louder with every thrust, each one harder than the last. He wanted so badly to fill you with his cum and watch as it dripped out of you. The thought made his cock twitch.

“Fuck, baby..” He whimpered as he felt his high approaching, smiling as his thrusts became delayed. “Gonna cum in this pretty pussy of yours.”

He pushed one last thrust into you, filling you with his warmth. He collapsed onto your body, kissing your neck softly as he slowly pumped into your cunt. He sat up, pulling his length out of you before quickly stuffing his fingers into you, catching you off guard. He fingered you softly, watching as drips of his cum spilled out of you. You held onto his wrist, begging him to stop while his fingers curled inside you.

“Aww, all tired out hm?” he pouted, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

He pulled his fingers out of you, flipping you around into your stomach. He stuck his swollen tip into you, holding it there while your entrance throbbed around him. He played with your clit, humming as your pleading whimpers filled his ears.

“Lucky for you, I have ways to go angel.”

a/n: i’m literally addicted to railway it’s so bad like it made its way to my top songs for 2024 within 2 weeks LMAO

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[ellecdc]

Sorry that this isn’t an alpha!Barty thought, but I just had to say for your alpha!remus series with omega!reader

After they’ve marked eachother, their instincts are kicked up to an 11 and I can just picture omega!reader not knowing what to do with these new feelings of being territorial and alpha!remus comforting her (he’s feeling territorial too, so it works out)

hahaha our poor omega!reader, so cute! thanks for the thought <3

alpha!Remus Lupin x omega!reader who finally claim each other [837 words]

CW: fem!reader, background jegulus, omegaverse, alpha/omega dynamics, posessiveness, mating bites, siblings, fluff

“Shut the fuck up!” Marlene all but bellowed as she roughly grabbed Remus’ head, angling it in an almost painful way to get a better look at his neck. Or, rather, the mark decorating his neck. Your mark. Your mating mark. “When did this happen?” 

Marlene’s outburst served to elicit a huff out of you, your eyes - slightly fiery - flitting between Remus’ own eyes, Marlene’s astounded and gleeful face, and her hands on him. 

Remus felt a little badly about how much he was enjoying this fun little side effect of your recent claiming of him and he of you. 

His quiet, docile, nearly nervous little omega had become what one might go so far to describe as possessive of Remus; distrustful eyes on even some of your closest friends let alone other patrons of the pub the group of you were currently at in honour of Mary’s birthday, looking like you were one wrong move made by anyone away from remarking Remus publicly. 

It wouldn’t be necessary, though, and he noticed some of the tension ooze out of you when he reached over to squeeze your thigh affectionately. 

“Guess you haven’t noticed the matching one on her neck either, then?” He asked instead of responding to the rather intrusive question. 

This only served to have everyone push your hair away from your shoulders in an attempt to get a look at it which had Remus’ own hand tightening around the fat of your thigh. 

“You lot finally made it official then? Does this mean I have to stop hitting on Y/N?” Sirius asked with a theatrical wink in your direction. Remus pulled you closer to him on the booth the two of you were currently stationed at. 

“Down boy.” Lily laughed from across the table at Remus’ obvious irritation. 

“The unmated omegas must just be heartbroken now that the Casanova is officially off the market.” Marlene tutted in faux sympathy for said omegas.

“He already was off the market…” You grumbled, quiet enough that Marlene from the other side of Remus probably missed it but he certainly didn’t, nor did James from the otherside of you.

“Yes I was.” He agreed quickly, pressing a kiss to your temple before removing his hand from your thigh only to reach his arm across your body and rest his hand on your opposite hip. 

You quickly embraced his arm with two greedy hands. 

“Ah, the territorial period.” James hummed with a knowing nod of his head. “Fun, eh? That was my favourite part after our mating bond; I thought Regulus might actually nonverbally and wandlessly light people’s hair on fire for looking at me a fraction of a second too long.” 

This only served to have Regulus swat up the back of his alpha’s head. 

“So nothing new, then?” Sirius drawled lazily from the rim of his pint, not even flinching when Regulus turned one such fiery gaze towards him that did indeed look like he may very well nonverbally and wandlessly light Sirius’ hair on fire from across the table.

“Another round for the table?” A cheerful server interrupted any verbal sparring that might have taken place between the brothers as she levitated a few empty pitchers in the direction of the kitchen, her smile directed immediately at Remus.

The only reason Remus knew she was directing her smile at him, however, was the way your grip on his arm - the same arm that was obvious to everyone was very protectively and possessively wrapped around no one but you - tightened to near painful levels. 

“I think so, thank you.” Remus agreed politely, offering your hip two affectionate squeezes. 

He turned to look down at you as you glared at the servers retreating back, squeezing your hip again to encourage you to look up at him. 

“You’re okay dove, hm?” He offered with his most calming smile. “I don’t want you to feel anxious.” 

Some of the fight left your eyes (and the near bruising grip on his arm) before you lowered your forehead to his shoulder with a frustrated and embarrassed huff. 

“Awe…I wish I had an omega like that; isn’t she sweet?” Remus heard someone sitting along the bar comment. When he turned to notice a woman smiling politely at him, he knew he ought to have taken it as the compliment it was.

But instead, Remus tried forcing a smile back that probably looked more like a grimace before returning his lips to the crown of your head and asked if you maybe perhaps wanted to go home. 

“Are you sure? This only lasts for the first few cycles after claiming, Moons; you should enjoy the possessiveness while it lasts!” 

“Would you sodding shut up?” Regulus asked James in disbelief. 

“Yes please.” You murmured in spite of the growing argument taking place on your other side, and his heart melted when he realised your cheeks must be burning something fierce as you hid your face in Remus’ shoulder.

“Okay dovey.” He smiled. “Let’s go home.”

[minswriting]

in your Spencer Reid nsfw alphabet, under oral, you mention that Spencer would be down for 69ing. and I agree. the thing is, I have never seen a fic with it before. Do you have any recommendations? Are you willing to take it as a request? 👀

omg you’re so right. i need to write this

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader | 69, oral (f & m receiving)

It started with a simple statement. Spencer had come home from work relatively early because it was just a paperwork sort of day. After you two had dinner and were just sitting on the couch as you both read silently together, Spencer broke the silence with “I want you to sit on my face while you suck me off,” while closing his book. Let’s get one thing clear, Spencer usually wasn’t so direct when it came to sex. So this, this had certainly been on his mind for a while for him to be so direct.

So of course, you agreed.

Which is what ultimately led you both to the bedroom with Spencer underneath you as you sat on his face in reverse cowgirl style. He didn’t hesitate to use his tongue on you, moving the appendage all over your cunt as he took in your juices. Eating you out was one of Spencer’s favorite things to do and he would gladly die between your thighs if you suffocated him. Spencer held your thighs to his face, burying his tongue inside of you.

You moaned as you leaned down, your face stopping right in front of Spencer’s cock. You took a second to relish in the pleasure Spencer was giving you, a hand on his torso for support. After a few minutes, you brought your other hand to Spencer’s cock, guiding it to your mouth. You swirled your tongue across the tip at the same time Spencer sucked on your clit. The both of you moaned at the same time, adding to the pleasure. You began by just sucking on the tip and teasing it, causing Spencer to pause what he was doing and breathe heavily, the hot hair hitting your pussy.

“Fuck,” Spencer moaned before diving his tongue back onto your cunt.

You eased your mouth down Spencer’s length, using your hand to jerk off what couldn’t fit. The two of you got into a rhythm. You bobbed your head up and down at the same time as Spencer ate your cunt. Both of you were moaning against one another, feeling each other’s pleasure. You could feel yourself getting close as Spencer sucked on your clit. Just as you could feel Spencer stiffening in your mouth, a tell-tale sign that he was getting close.

It didn’t take long for either of you to finish. You came with your thighs clamping around Spencer’s head at the same time that he finished in your mouth, bucking his hips as he did so. The both of you were whining and moaning. When you were finished, you crawled off Spencer, lying opposite him, where your feet were next to his head. The both of you were breathing heavily, taking in what had just happened.

“We’re doing that again,” You said breathily, tilting your head to look at Spencer.

He let out a small chuckle, nodding his head. “For sure.”

[miange1]

YAY

okay so i wanna request something where donnie is talking about his crush on reader(male) to his therapist and it's sorta like the situation where he almost jerks off in her office yk?

but he starts to spill too much saying that he's basically a really gross and stalker pervert towards you😪

maybe add something a little cute at the end after all of that :3

DONNIE DARKO

male reader, perverted tendencies, donnie starts seeing reader in hallucinations, wet dreams, stalking, taking underwear and 'using' it, reader has a crush on donnie but doesn't know what he does, a full fic instead of head cannons for once, slight homophobia even though donnies friends were talking about a gay smurf

"Donnie.." his kisses trailed along your soft skin, grabbing hold of your waist harshly to keep you still and close to him. He loved moments like these with you, moments where he could have you all to himself and use you as you pleased because you would never say no to him, right?

You loved him, and he loved you. "Hm." He hummed, glancing up at you a bit as his kisses stopped at you hip, and his hands moving towards the bottom of your pants.

"Donnie no," He was confused, why were you saying no? You never say no, what was wrong now? "What, why? You're hard for me, why are you.." you shook your head and shushed him. "It's time for school."

Of course it was a fucking dream, he could even remember himself sighing and realizing in his head before he had woke up.

He was in no mood to deal with anyone today, more than usual. The boy was so close to punching his friends in the throat if they made fun of that girl one more time. He just wanted to get on the bus and be able to see you for the few seconds he could, and then for the hours he could stare at you through eyes you couldn't see.

"Guys, just leave her alone. Bus is about to come anyway." Even as he spoke he was only thinking of you, the cigarette burning to the curb right before the bus had pulled over to the curb, and he'd let the stick fall onto the concrete.

Neither of you had classes together, you'd just see each other in the hallways and it was a miracle you had looked over and waved to him. First thing that went through his mind was that you were the most beautiful boy he had ever seen.

First thing that went through his friends minds was that you were a faggot. "He's into you man." Donnie scoffed, head shaking in disbelief, "All he did was wave at me, I mean we barely even know each other." Which was only partially true, he knew almost everything about you. Knew of your interests, knew what you liked to watch and read, knew what kinda porn you liked, knew what brand your boxers were, and could probably guess which you were wearing right now.

Even last night he had watched you be confused as to why half of your pairs were missing. Sometimes he wished you could see it, see his eyes rolling back as his own hands were working at jerking himself off— taking in your scent and feeling so high off of it.

"Donnie!" He jumped up a bit, realizing he had been in class. Jesus, when had he gotten here? "I said do you have a pencil for me to borrow?" Blinking a bit, he nodded his head. "Yeah..yeah, here man."

"What's gotten into you, snap out of it." He wished he could, if he hadn't met you everything would go somewhat smoothly and he could continue along with his day.

"Hey Donnie!" Hearing your voice, he instantly turned his body around and started walking next to you. "Hey," he felt shy, itching to hold your hand but he just shoved it in his pocket. "I'm gonna be going to the movies later, you wanna come?" God, he wanted to say yes, say yes so so badly— but he couldn't. The hope in your eyes slightly went away as he said no, "Ah, I understand." No, no you didn't understand. He didn't want you to understand it that way, he needed you to understand how badly he needed you.

"Hey, hey, look." He blocked your way, standing in front of you as the gravel crumbled underneath his feet. "Look.. I have a therapist, and that's the reason I can't make it tonight." His heart skipped a beat as you smiled slightly, this time actually getting it. "Oh, then there's no worries! I just thought you didn't want to hang out with me." Never in a million years would that be possible, not now or ever.

"Of course I wanna hang out with you." He grabbed your face, almost till it hurt. "What makes you think I don't?" You laughed, your cheek squishing together more as you did so. "Well, maybe the fact you're trying to pop my head open."

His hands let go, heading to his sides while he tried to laugh it off.

Hypnotherapy. Donnie wasn't sure how to feel about it, each and every time he'd 'wake up' hard, and his dick almost out.

"So..Donnie." Dr. Thurman walk back and forth around the room, "Have you met anyone new?"

Donnie nodded, taking a bit before answering. "I met a boy.." he muttered, already feeling a slight twitch in his pants.

"That so? ..Is he like Frank?" Donnie shook his head, no. "No..no, he's nothing like Frank, he's.." He bit his lip, slightly giggling. "He's real." Dr. Thurman took that as a note to most likely stop. Because if Donnie liked this boy, then his pants would be unbuttoned again.

"Do you have any romantic interest in him?" Donnie looked over at her, eyes practically closed but not too much. "You gonna call me a fag if I say I do?" Dr. Thurman shook her head. "No, if you have interest in him we should discuss it." She almost felt the need to say 'For his safety' but she kept it shut.

"Would you mind explaining more?" Bad idea.

"Mh.. well.." His body shifted on the couch a bit. "His body..I love it..I wanna be all over it." Taking a breath, he continued on. "And fuck him..really really hard, feel him squirm and moan out my name." His hands went to his pants, unbuttoning somewhat slower.

"He's so sweet to me..wonder if his moans are sweeter..if his hole is as tight as my fist when I—" "Donnie. I need you to..explain something else." She didn't want to hear that.

"Explain what..how I look at him while he's asleep and awake? Sniff his clothes? Fantasize about using his body how I'd like? That what you wanna hear?" Dr. Thurman clapped her hands.

"that's enough for today Donnie."

"Morning Donnie." You gave him your usual wave, smiling over at him. He reciprocated, before reminding himself of something.

"Oh— hey, wait a minute." He stopped you, grabbing your arms. "Do you wanna..go out? Somewhere? Sometime?" He went silent as you seemed dumbfounded, his heart feeling heavy and he felt sort of angry.

Why were you looking at him like that? Confused? Did you not want him like he did? "Like, today? Sure why not." Then you smiled at him, and he felt himself get less tense.

"Great."

[k1mbe3rly]

Could you do something with sub namgyu maybe? Like he gets forced into submission

yess🥵🥵 LMFAOO sorry i was crashing out for hours but im back in mind 🙄 out of sight out of mind 😈

Desperate

warnings: smut, sub!namgyu x fem!dom reader, begging, slight leg humping (out of squid games)

Nam-gyu just came home from his job as a club promoter, he sighed as he looked over seeing you on the couch on your phone, he’s guessing you also just came home from work which you did, despising your wrinkled white button up t shirt untucked from your knee above skirt

He went up from behind the couch and looking over your shoulder, “Hey i’m home” he said whispering in your ear, you weren’t really in the mood since you had a bad day at work so you kinda brushed him off and just nodded, he looked over at you in confusion

He hummed as he moved your hair the other side of your side and nuzzled his face in your neck inhaling your scent, he smirked softly as he begin kissing your neck, “Can you stop? i’m not really in the mood..” you said as you sighed, “Than i’ll turn your frown..upside down” he said chuckling at his own joke and kept kissing your neck slightly sucking on it

“I’m serious Nam-gyu.. not today okay? maybe tomorrow” you said trying to move away but he placed his hands on your shoulder, “Come on..it’ll be fun. I promise baby” he said licking your neck a bit, you groaned and shoved his face away as he whined out and went around the couch and sitting next to you, “What? what’s wrong huh? your usually so needy” he said looking at you, you crossed your arms and looked at him

“Okay well not today, i had a bad day at work.” you said lazily. He hummed a simple understanding, “I can.. change that” he said quietly a bit, you raised your eyebrow and smirked softly “and how are you gonna do that huh?” you said sitting up a bit, “Let me do my job, you’ll be satisfied..” he said slowly getting on his knees infront of you.

He slowly opened your legs and traveled his hands to the edge of your skirt, you quickly gripped on his wrist with a serious expression, “You really don’t know when to stop huh. i told you i wasn’t in the mood didn’t i?” you said still gripping his wrist, he winced slightly “Baby- chill! i’m sorry.” he said scrunching his eyebrows a bit, “Show me your sorry.” you said releasing his wrist as he got up, he smirked a bit

He unbuckled his pants getting rid of his belt and unbuttoning his pants, before pulling them down he grabbed both your legs spreading them and again putting his hands in your skirt, you quickly stopped him again “No. your not gonna fuck me, find another way.. or beg for it.” you said closing your legs, he looked at you with a confused face “Seriously? but that’s not even my place!” he said, “excuse me? either that or you get nothing” you said back, he scoffed “I’m not begging! you know how.. dumb I’ll look!?” he said, “fine by me, i’m not the one trying to have sex” you said shrugging and going back to your phone. He sighed and sat down.

It didn’t take long for him to give in or whatever, so that’s how he ended up on the floor, whining for you, and humping your leg without any pants on, he moved his hips against your leg, his clothed cock rubbing against you. “Please..? i’m sorry okay? can i please just fuck you?” he said still keeping his movements against you, you faked a yawned “boring..babe i don’t know..im getting kinda sleepy..” you said, he whined out again a almost cry and choked out whine “Baby please! i need you! please!! i’ll do all the work i swear! i just need to be inside you!” he said clinging on to your leg, he quickly moved off your leg, picking up one leg and kissing down to your heels.

He slowly took off your heel, kissing your foot a bit (bare with me 😢🙏), and he kissed back up, he went your other leg doing the exact same and placing your heels somewhere else, he than looked up at you “Please? its the most you can do..” he said, “The most i can do?” you questioned. “not like that! baby please! please im begging like you said!” he said whining, “fine..you can only eat me out, than i’ll see how i feel after.” you said ruffling his hair that became a bit messy, he quickly lifted your skirt high enough and slid your panties off

he smiled up at you “Thank you..” he whispered as he spread your legs and quickly put his head between giving your clit a kiss, and slowly sucked on it, you let out a moan as he kept sucking on your clit, he said licked on it, be moved his tongue around and inside, you moaned out shutting your eyes putting your legs on his shoulders, he held onto your thighs as he continued eating you out, you kept moaning and gasping as your hands went to his hair, gripping and tugging on his hair, he let out a low growl and kept e shoving his tongue and managed suck a bit on your clit, he than rubbed your clit with his thumb, soft slurping sounds and moans filled the room as you finally cummed inside his mouth as he swallowed, he cleaned your cunt with his tongue and finally backed up gasping. “Holy fuck baby.. you taste so good” he said looking up and wiping his mouth a bit, you were a bit dumb founded.

“mm-…” you mumbled out, not long after you were riding him on the couch, your hands on his shoulders moaning as nam-gyu moaned, honestly first time hearing him moan was magical, so adorable and it turned you on even more, he gripped on your hips letting out choked gasps and moans, “a-agh~ fuckk baby..s-so tight!!” he moaned out, you moaned out as you begin bouncing on him your tits bouncing inside your button up shirt, he slowly traveled his hands to the buttons and begin unbuttoning them and pulled down your bra and gripped on your tits, he kept moaning out and leaned in whining and moaning into your neck, “Mm! m’gonna cum baby! can i? can i cum inside you baby please!” he panted out as he played with your tits a bit, i felt his cock twitch inside me “Yea- fuck~ cum with me baby! cum inside me” you said as you bounced a tad bit faster, “augh~!! mm- m’cummingggfhh~!” he basically yelled out as he cummed inside you and quickly after you did as well, you slowed down panting as his cum and yours mixed together.

after you both calmed down you slowly lifted your self and went to the side panting as juices and cum leaked out a bit..”are you okay..?” he said to you as you nodded, yall eventually cleaned up and cuddled to sleep.

[wheneverfeasible]

My friend is listening to a nostalgia playlist and the song “Only Wanna Be With You” by Hootie & the Blowfish came on and honestly suddenly all I could think about was a secret relationship/situationship between Steddie where Eddie was trying to keep it casual and refused to accept it was anything more than a non-exclusive FWB situation while Steve wanted more.

It blows up, because of course it does, and Steve decides he can’t do it anymore and tells Eddie it’s over and to respect him enough to give him space and not contact him for a while and is very firm it’s over because he respects himself enough to give himself that.

And Eddie. Eddie hates it. Hates to acknowledge that Steve was correct when he said that Eddie never met him halfway, that Eddie always expected Steve to listen to what Eddie wanted when they were together, to watch what Eddie wanted, to do what Eddie wanted. That Eddie never tried to be a part of Steve’s life like Steve tried to be a part of his. Hates that he took Steve for granted. Hates that he made Steve feel like Eddie was ashamed of him.

Realizes how much he only wants Steve. They weren’t exclusive, and Eddie flirted with others, but he never actually did anything with anyone else. Because all he wanted, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself at the time, was Steve.

So he writes Steve a little pop rock song, confessing his feelings in such a cringe and embarrassing way for a metalhead, but he knows that’s that what he needs to do for even a chance at getting Steve back. So he writes a song in the style Steve would like, convinces Robin to take Steve out to the bar while CC is playing (it takes some doing but Robin lets Eddie know when Steve is ready for seeing Eddie again), and then Eddie stops their normal set in the middle of their show to play Steve his song.

He looks at Steve the entire time.

They finish the rest of their set as normal but him and Steve talk after and Eddie apologizes profusely and Steve doesn’t accept yet, but he agrees to give Eddie a second chance. But…Eddie has to woo him properly.

And Eddie?

That man fucking delivers. He’s buying flowers, chocolates, writing love songs and love poems, picking Steve up and dropping him off at work, hanging out with him to do the things that Steve likes to do, even if that means playing basketball with him, taking him on dates and pushing for nothing more than a chaste kiss at the end of the night—with he asks permission for each time. He is complimenting Steve in front of everyone and letting everyone know how fucking gone he is for Steve Harrington.

And Steve laps it up.

He eventually tells Eddie he forgives him, but warns Eddie that he better never pull that fucking shit again.

And Eddie doesn’t.

And they move on and finally allow themselves to be as in love as they have always been, even if it took a while to accept it.

And, years later, when they both become Mr. Munson-Harrington, Eddie and the rest of CC stand up and head to the instrument on the small raised platform and Eddie croons Steve’s song and looks his groom in the eye the entire time.

Because he only wants to be with Steve.

Hostage Hotties (open):

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes @hiei-harringtonmunson

[darkwitchoferie]

Train Ride

Summary: You start off as just Chan’s beloved girlfriend and end up in bed with all the members.

A/N: This is an expansion of a little oneshot I wrote on Tumblr. Link here. It is specifically an expansion on each of the scenarios in the oneshot, and maybe an additional chapter or two after that. Also, timing wise, this story does take place in the spring/summer. Seungmin’s chapter involves a baseball game and that’s a specific season. So, in case you wonder why anybody’s hair doesn’t reflect their current styles – that’s why. There are, at the moment, 8 planned chapters. That could change.

Also, for you - @skzficpriv for your comment on the original oneshot and therefore the encouragement to actually finish writing these out. Thank you darling!

This post contains sexual content, read at your own discretion.

General cw/tw for the whole fic, not just this chapter: talks of consensual somnophilia, free-use reader, unprotected p in v sex, vaginal sex, talk of and thoughts of sexual fantasies, anal sex between members, oral (m & f receiving), exhibition/voyeurism (thought not actually in public), polyamory, multi-partner sex, established relationship between Chan x fem Reader as well as between Han x Lee Know. 2nd person POV (you/your). I think that's all, might need to add more later.

Chapter 2 here

Chan tossed the wet cloth he’d used to clean you and himself into the hamper then lay back down beside you, tugging you over so you could curl comfortably into his side. He chuckled at your feeble protests at being moved, which stopped as soon as you felt the warmth of his bare skin against yours again. You burrowed in, pressing your face to his side.

On a yawn you muttered, “Wish we’d invite the boys to play with me,” before going limp as you faded into sleep.

Chan froze, looking down at your sleeping face. Surely you didn’t mean what he thought he heard? You couldn’t possibly mean that you wanted the rest of the group to join you two in your bed. Right? He thought about shaking you awake and asking, but knew that was pointless, you wouldn’t be any more coherent until after a full night’s sleep. He tried to calm his mind, reassured that he’d be able to ask about it tomorrow, and eventually fell asleep.

He woke up later than he intended the next morning. Quietly rushing around, so as not to wake you before you needed to be up, he didn’t even remember what you’d whispered until he was walking into the JYPE building and caught sight of Felix and Seungmin walking ahead of him. He stopped in his tracks in the lobby, your sleepy words playing on a loop in his head as he watched his two friends head for the elevators, unaware that he was behind them. He shook himself out of it when one of the company’s security guards tapped him on the shoulder. He thanked the man, saying something about not sleeping well, and made his way up to the recording studio he was expected in.

On his way up, he thought over his reaction, both just then in the lobby and the night before. If he’d been posed a hypothetical question like, how do you think you’d react if your girlfriend said she wanted your friend to fuck her – his immediate reaction would’ve been to say he’d hate the idea. He was possessive of you, everyone knew it. But that wasn’t the way he’d reacted to your words. Instead he was … interested might be too strong a word, but definitely intrigued. He resolved to compartmentalize it in his mind and focus on work until he could talk to you about it.

That lasted for maybe an hour. Until Minho groaned in frustration at getting the English wrong again and Chan’s mind immediately, and without conscious decision, jumped to wondering if he’d make similar noises while fucking you. That single thought started the spiral for him. After that his mind wander and he started to wonder more. What would Hyunjin’s face look like when he sank into your cunt? Did Changbin have as much of a thing for tits as Chan suspected he did? Would Felix's voice go deep or into his higher pitches?

And what about you? Would you make the same noises if Jeongin was the one fucking you as you did when it was him? Would you whine the same way for Seungmin? Who would be whinier – you or Jisung? He was absolutely sure Jisung was loud during sex and now, he was allowing himself to wonder exactly what sounds he and the others would make.

Now that he was thinking these thoughts, he was also recalling every interaction you’d had with the other members recently. How Jeongin’s eyes trailed after you when you walked around their apartment. Or how Jisung’s and Felix’s hugs lingered, something he’d always chalked up to both boys being tactile people to begin with. How Changbin’s hands slid just a little too close to your boobs when he hugged you from behind without actually touching them. Or how Hyunjin always insisted you were the best pose model for whatever he was working on and that he needed an otherwise empty room to focus. The way Minho would look at you sometimes and how similar it was to the way he looked at Jisung and they all knew the pair of them were sleeping together, despite not officially being a couple. How Seungmin didn’t even pretend to shy away from your touch if you happened to be sitting beside him during group gatherings. Or a million other things that he was suddenly looking at in a different light that made him wonder.

He had never really thought about defining his sexuality. You’d asked him about it once and he said he was attracted to people, not their gender. But he had admitted to you that, at the time you got together, he had a bit more experience with guys than with girls, which he’d chalked up to being a trainee throughout puberty. But he’d never allowed himself to delve too deeply into any attraction he might feel for his members, fearing it would make him awkward around them. Now though? Now it seemed that your half-asleep comment had lifted a lid off a box in his mind and all sorts of thoughts were tumbling out.

When they stopped for lunch, he made the seven of them leave ahead of him, playing it off as wanting some privacy to call you. The truth was, with his thoughts spiraling into the territory they were, he was hard. Very hard, and there was no way he could stand up from the desk and it not be obvious. He took several deep breaths, screwing his eyes shut, clenching his hands into fists, and tried to will away his boner. Eventually, he called Hannah and that helped instantly, putting him back on an even keel.

Then came dance practice in the afternoon and that put his mind right back in the gutter. Any body roll or anything that looked even vaguely like a hip thrust had him internally struggling with new images. Once, he excused himself to the bathroom and had to take care of his problem before it became too evident. Or at least, he hoped it hadn’t been noticeable.

The day ended earlier than usual, owing to Hyunjin and Felix both having separate photoshoots. While normally, Chan would take advantage of the early end and head back into the recording studio, maybe with Jisung and Changbin, maybe without them, this time he headed straight for your apartment.

“Channie!” You grinned up at him from behind your computer set up in the living room. One of the best perks, to your mind, about working from home was the ability to move your set up out into the living room or kitchen, or really anywhere that wasn’t your home office for a scenery change. “Everything okay?” You could tell immediately that something had your boyfriend edgy. Hopefully everything had gone well at the company.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. Almost done for the day?” He nodded at your computer.

“Just about. I was gonna make a pizza, do you want to pop it into the oven while I finish up?”

“Yeah, baby girl. That sounds perfect.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he walked by. He paced the length of your kitchen and back again as he waited, first for the oven to heat, then the pizza to cook. He could hear you working on your computer and didn’t want to interrupt, but he really needed to deal with everything that had been going on in his head all day. Now, surrounded by the familiarity of your apartment, nothing changed. He was still thinking about his friends and wondering how you’d look pinned under Changbin, riding Seungmin, or bent over for Minho.

By the time the pizza was done and you were shutting down your work laptop, he still hadn’t decided if he should just ask you about it, or if he needed to fuck you first, to at least get himself somewhat under control so you could have this conversation. He heard you packing away your set up and taking it into your home office, so he sliced up the pizza and brought two plates out into the living room.

“Thank you, baby,” you grinned at him, sitting beside him and snuggling into his side while you both ate.

Normally, your proximity like this would calm Chan, no matter what kind of day he’d had. You’d snuggle into his side, and he’d relax back into the couch cushions. Not this day. The fingers on his free hand tapped incessantly against your shoulder or the back of the couch. He kept shifting around and could not say at all what show you’d put on the tv.

You waited, somewhat patiently, sure he’d tell you what was going on after a while. Meanwhile, Chan was wondering how the hell to even bring it up. Eventually, you got tired of waiting. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

You sat up to look directly at him. “You’re edgy, babe. Like you get when something’s bugging you. What is it?”

“It’s not…. It’s about what you said last night, before you fell asleep.” At your puzzled look, he said, “You don’t remember?”

“Channie baby, I’m lucky I remembered my own name by the time you were done with me last night.” Smug, Chan grinned and puffed up his chest. “You’re going to have to remind me what I said.” You grinned, playfully rolling your eyes at his smug grin.

“You said, um…. You said you wished we’d invited the guys over so they could play with you too.” Your mind raced. The pair of you had talked about fantasies before, but you’d never voiced that thought out loud, afraid of how Chan would react. Would he think differently of you? If you denied it, would he even believe you? Was he disgusted by you? Or would he think you had or would be willing to cheat on him? Maybe he’d just get really possessive and fuck you into the couch and afterwards you could both pretend you’d never said anything.

Your thoughts were racing so fast that you didn’t realize the time for denial had passed. At least until Chan says, “Baby girl? Did you mean it?”

“I, uh… no?” You tried denying it, but no one would believe a denial that came out sounding that unsure.

“I think you did. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all day, baby. Do you know how hard it’s been to get any work done today with these thoughts?” With your terrible denial, Chan grew bolder. You looked away from his face, biting the edge of your thumbnail out of nervousness. When you looked down, you noticed the bulge in his pants. Your eyes widened and shot back up to his face. “Do you have any clue how hard it’s been, all day?” He asked, pressing a palm against his clothed dick. “Hearing Minho groaning into the mic? Seeing Hyunjin roll his hips and wondering….” He trailed off, eyes darkening as he realized that your mind had immediately followed his train of thought and now you were thinking all the same things he’d been thinking.

“You’d… I mean, you’re not upset? That I’ve thought about them, like that?” You asked in a small voice, still somewhat unsure of exactly where this conversation was headed.

Your bed, it turned out, was where the conversation was headed. Chan had gripped your hips, pulling you onto his lap and hungrily kissing you without another word. He’d damn near torn your shirt trying to get it off as quickly as possible before groaning when he realized you hadn’t bothered with a bra that morning. You arched into him as he closed his lips around one nipple, teasing the other with his fingers.

When you started to roll your hips against the bulge in his pants, he’d stood up with you in his arms and swiftly strode to your bedroom, tossing you onto the bed and following right behind you. He didn’t give you time to get your bearings or get situated before he was tugging off your lounge pants and panties. His lips were back to roaming on your neck and chest as his hands smoothed up your thighs, pushing them apart so he could slot himself comfortably between them.

You’d gone from nervous to turned on so quickly that you were struggling to keep up with him, eventually just giving in and letting yourself feel his fingers, lips, and tongue, rather than try to keep track of exactly where your boyfriend’s roaming hands were. Until you felt the pad of his thumb pressing against your clit. You gasped, arching and trying to press yourself harder against that single digit.

“Aw, is baby girl needy?” he teased.

“Channie, please.”

He grinned, leaning down to nip at your collar bone. “You have to do something for me though.”

“Anything,” you agreed, desperate to have him. He pulled completely away from you and you whined. Then you looked over and saw he was standing so he could strip himself. As soon as his boxers were kicked off, you reached for him, pulling him back to you by his wrist.

He claimed your lips in a hungry kiss, right hand sliding down your tummy, over your hip, and covering your pussy. With less gentleness than usual, he dipped first one, then two fingers into you. He didn’t spend much time prepping you, just thrusting his fingers into you a few times before deciding he couldn’t wait anymore. But as wet and turned on as you were, you had no problems stretching to accept him.

He bottomed out inside you, your legs wrapped around his hips, him propped up on his hands and leaning over you. Before he started moving, he said, “You have to tell me what you’ve thought of.” At your blank look, he elaborated. “You’ve thought about my friends. Tell me what you’ve thought about. You said you wanted them to play with you, but I’m sure you have details.”

You groaned, partly embarrassed to be having this conversation but mostly because that was when he started to move. He started off with long, slow thrusts, letting you feel every inch of him dragging through your walls. You knew he’d been turned on by his own thoughts, but part of you was still nervous how he’d react to your fantasies.

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

“How could I possibly be mad at you?” he countered.

It took you a while, between your moans and gasps, but you finally told him your favorite fantasies. “I want them to use me,” you started off. “Whenever they want. Like when I’m wearing the necklace you bought me so you can fuck me whenever, wherever. I wanna do that for them too.” You gasped, arching against a particularly hard thrust. “Let them fuck me when I’m asleep after a long day like you do. Or – oh God – call me to the dance studio or recording studio ‘cause something’s not going right so you’re all stressed.” You dug your nails into Chan’s back as he leaned down and bit your neck, sucking a deep purple mark into the skin there. “Wanna cock warm Lixie while he’s gaming or Minnie while he’s reading. Be passed around to everybody during movie night. Wanna ride Bin’s thigh after a workout, when he’s still all sweaty. Let Hyune paint me naked or paint on me, then fuck him.”

As Chan’s thrusts got rougher, it got harder to speak, but you kept going at his insistence. “Wanna – ah – wanna sit on Ji’s face. Suck on Innie’s fingers while he fucks me. Let Minho bend me over the balcony fence so I have to be real quiet.”

Chan had your legs bent up so your knees were at your chest when you finally clenched around him, orgasm rushing through you. Every scenario you gave him, brought him closer to his own orgasm and he followed right behind you, the warmth of his cum flooding into you. He brought your legs down, gently massaging your thighs as you both worked to catch your breath.

With a burst of courage, probably encouraged by how he’d reacted to everything else so far, you decided to tell him one final fantasy. But still, you wrapped your legs around his hips to hold him to you, just in case. “I’d be happy with all that, and more. But I’d like to date them too, if they wanted.” You got quieter as you spoke, suddenly afraid that he might think you thought he wasn’t enough for you.

Chan shifted against you, not moving away, just shifting so he could look up at your face. “I wondered, earlier today, and probably before if I’m being really honest, about kissing them. Think I’d like kissing Lix or maybe Hyune the most. Well, no, maybe most is wrong.” He sighed, shifting again and resting his head between your boobs before he continued. “Point is, I know you love me. I love you too.” He kissed the side of your boob. “But I am totally okay with one or both of us dating one or a couple or all of them.”

You relaxed your legs, letting them drop to either side of his hips. Then started gently carding your fingers through his sweaty hair.

A short while later, as you were cleaning up in the shower, Chan asked, “So, would you want to try to see how many of your fantasies we can bring to life?”

[wrenaspun]

what about the prompt that damen starts dating laurent but laurent thinks it's only casual to damen and is dying inside while damen is planning for their future 👀

👀 👀

Damen’s hands were warm on Laurent’s hips, grounding, the sole point of steadiness in a dizzy world. His eyes were very dark. Laurent’s whole body was flushed and trembling. He’d lost track of how long they’d been in bed together; he knew his thighs were sore. His back was sore. He could barely keep himself moving, but the thought of stopping was unbearable. He hadn’t known anything could feel this good.

Damen pushed up into him, grip tightening, and Laurent felt another impossible pulse of searing pleasure, heard himself make another helpless, embarrassing noise. He was submerged in sensation, utterly conquered by the sweep of Damen’s thumbs over his skin. Coming was almost irrelevant. He wanted to stay like this forever.

Underneath him, eventually, Damen’s body tightened as it did when he was close. “Laurent,” he said, and just the sound of his voice was sensual, rough and fucked-out. Laurent shuddered, a breath away from coming. Damen kept murmuring to him, endearments, encouragement, praise, and then one hand moved to stroke softly up Laurent’s side — and it was that which brought Laurent over the edge of pleasure, the sweet touch which was impossible to defend against.

Laurent’s body was weak and shaky in the aftermath, overwhelmed. Damen gathered him close, kissed his cheek, the tip of his nose, his slack mouth, and that was also impossible to defend against, in a slightly different way. Laurent’s heart ached, but he was never strong enough to deny himself this, the tender moments after their lovemaking when he had an excuse to cling to Damen, to nuzzle close and breathe him in.

“Lovely,” Damen was saying now. Pleasure always left him loose-limbed and loose-lipped, prone to saying horrible things. Like now: “Sweetheart. You look so lovely like that, taking your pleasure. I missed you.” He kissed Laurent’s temple. Laurent had been roped into visiting Auguste over the weekend; two whole days they hadn’t seen each other. Damen’s arm was slung over Laurent’s waist, their legs tangling together like he wanted to erase the memory of their separation. “Will you stay for dinner?”

The first time Damen had said something like that, Laurent had kept his wits about him enough to keep smiling. “You don’t have to flatter me,” he’d said. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Damen had just furrowed his brow, looking earnestly confused. “I’m just telling the truth.” He’d kissed Laurent’s bare shoulder, soft, very tender.

That was just the kind of person he was, Laurent had realised. He was open-hearted, always willing with his affections… He was entirely earnest when he called Laurent his sweetheart, said he was lovely, wonderful, precious. It didn’t mean — what Laurent wanted it to mean. It didn’t mean what it would have meant if Laurent was the one saying it. Sometimes he wondered how Damen would talk to a real partner, someone he really loved instead of a convenient rebound hookup, and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest. He hated that person already.

“Yes,” said Laurent now. And realised, with a humiliated flush, that he’d come straight to Damen’s flat after work, that if he went to his apartment now there wouldn’t be any food in the pantry. He’d expected this invitation so intrinsically that it hadn’t even registered as an expectation.

Damen stretched and got up, all rippling muscle and smooth motion, moving with the ease which came with perfect command over his own body. He kissed Laurent once more, said he’d be in the kitchen, and left.

Laurent rolled over and buried his face in Damen’s pillow. He needed to get a grip. One of these days Damen was going to do something casually nice by his standards and Laurent would just stop functioning. He was barely managing now. He knew better than to expect anything of a man who’d just come reeling out of an engagement, but — he was barely managing now. He made a noise of abject despair into the sympathetic pillow, then got up and wrapped one of Damen’s shirts around himself and went into the kitchen.

Damen looked over and grinned to see him, heart-stoppingly gorgeous. “Sweetheart,” he said, abandoning the vegetables he was stir-frying to come over and press a kiss to Laurent’s mouth. And then, looking almost shy, he gestured to a little vase overbrimming with bright flowers: “I almost forgot. Happy three months.”

Laurent stopped functioning.

[hurlumerlu]

My belly and my knees, my hands rosy from love

a short THK fic (this one comes with a warning for general beach vacation torture session unpleasantness) (AO3)

They stumbled through the garden, Bison walking backward with his hands down Kant’s shorts, Kant hoisting him up over obstacles, letting out reproachful little moans anytime their bodies detached. They couldn’t stop kissing.

It shouldn’t have been such a giddy, joyful affair – not after everything, not while it was so fresh – and yet. Bison felt drunk, overcome by an all-powerful, all-encompassing relief, and didn’t want to think beyond Kant’s mouth on his, its ravenous warmth, how it gasped when Bison tightened his hold on Kant’s ass.

They could think later.

Bison’s back hit the door, and he had half a mind to stay there, turn them over, but he wanted Kant on a bed. He liberated one of his hands to turn the doorknob, pushed the door panel with his heel, and crossed the threshold. Kant froze.

Fight-or-flight at the ready, Bison twisted to follow his gaze – no one was there. Kant was looking at a perfectly empty spot a few feet away from the entrance, and Bison, brutally sober, knew why.

"Who told you you could come inside?"

Kant stops and closes his eyes, same way Fadel does when praying for patience, as if Bison’s the cause of his misery, as if he didn’t make his fucking bed. "Sorry. I just need –"

"You thought I would allow you into my parents’ house?" And let him flinch, let him, from Bison’s words or his rising tone, doesn’t matter as long as Kant flinches. When Bison prowls toward him, he doesn’t move, only stands there with an air of sadness and pity, and Bison should have put a bullet in his skull. "If you’re going to sully their home with your presence, you will do so on your hands and knees. Crawling."

Kant shuts his eyes again, jaw working madly. Aw. How cute. He’s trying not to cry. He opens them back, though, as he goes to his knees. They don’t leave Bison’s face for the whole descent. They don’t leave Bison’s face after.

"Like this?"

"I assume it’s the best you can do anyway." Come on, flinch. Flinch. Flinch, dammit. Bison walks back to the kitchen, throwing "Bathroom’s upstairs. You can stand up in there, I guess, if you must." over his shoulders, and listens to Kant’s pathetic journey over the tiles. He tries to find it vindicating, and fails.

Tries not to find it arousing, and –

"We can sleep outside."

A silly, feeble attempt at making it all better. Kant rightfully huffed out a laugh.

"I really need that shower," he said sheepishly, as if he hadn’t washed in days through his own carelessness and not – not –

"Of course I want you in my parents’ home, Kant. I wasn’t –" wasn’t what? He’d meant every word. "Kant. Please believe me."

"I do. I’m glad. I just… Sorry, I didn’t mean to cry again."

"You can cry. You’re allowed to cry." Bison lightly tugged at Kant’s hands. He didn’t follow. "Would it help if you closed your eyes? I could guide you."

"I –" A long exhale. Kant’s thumb was rubbing Bison’s knuckles in soothing little motions. Perhaps they were self-soothing too. "I think I need you to tell me again."

"I want you in my parent’s home." It was so easy to say, and like shrugging off a weight.

Another huffed laughter. "Thank you. Thank you, Bison. But that’s not what I meant."

"I don’t –"

"I can’t just walk in." Kant bent down slightly, and Bison obeyed the plea, stepping forward so their forehead could brush. "Bison. I don’t think I can walk in."

Understanding, fear and denial, Bison had found, were very close cousins. He wasn’t sure which one was currently constricting his throat.

"We can sleep outside." He repeated. "I could bring out a bucket, I know it’s not ideal but you could wash like that, and in the morning I’d pack some stuff, we could leave, we don’t have to stay. We don’t have to come here ever again."

Kant’s broad palm slotted against Bison’s jaw, gently familiar. "Are you that afraid?"

"That’s not –" but it was. He wanted it too much."Kant. What if it makes things worse?"

"Can we try?"

With a nod, Bison stepped back. He didn’t want to lose the thumb stroking his knuckles, or the touch on his face. He told himself it was only temporary.

He walked across the old tiles, each one a memory. He had read so much, and fantasized even more – he’d even tried a few things with a hook-up or two, mostly symbolic gestures that wouldn’t spook a stranger but had helped him get there. Nothing had prepared him for this. The theories hadn’t been written for them. The guidelines just said don’t.

There were no guidelines.

There was only Bison’s heartbeat, and Kant at the threshhold, and the sound of crashing waves.

Bison kneeled, hand outstretched.

"Crawl to me, love," he ordered.

[out-there-tmblr]

Young Zaundads wip (26)

***

For the sake of progress, they don't make the new tunnel any bigger than it needs to be. It's tall enough for Vander to kneel and punch cracks into the next lot of bedrock, but no higher. Vander breaks the rock and moves the pieces behind him; Silco moves the rocks to the larger cavern, clearing the tunnel.

Despite the three charges in Silco's pocket, neither of them are willing to use it. They don't want to risk causing another cave in.

The work is slow and tiring, and Vander's knees feel like they'll be covered in bruises by tomorrow. Silco rolls the bigger rocks out of the way. The smaller ones he lifts up and carries out, bent over in half to fit in their little tunnel.

There's no way for Vander to know if they're digging straight or starting to curve, but he can feel the sweat soaking through his shirt and the ache in his arms as they keep moving forward.

They take a break, both of them lying on the cavern floor just to stretch their backs and rest their legs.

Vander eyes the broken gas mask, the gap down the front where the metal edges bend and twist away from each other. "I almost wish Benzo was here. He'd be able to fix that."

One side of Silco's lip curls up, like he's too tired to sneer properly. They both know Vander isn't great with anything delicate and Silco might have nerves of steel but that's about the limit of his machinery knowledge. There's no way either of them can fix it. "We could try it anyway. It can't hurt our chances."

Vander rolls his head to the side, watching Silco. The strong line of his nose, the soaring curve of his cheekbones, the small chin and narrow jaw. He always thinks it's Silco's eyes that make him pretty, or the thin, delicate line of his lips, but it's everything. It's the knowing arch of his brows and the strands of dark hair falling across his cheek. Everything about him is sharp and fine, and stronger than he looks.

It's not somethingbhe wa looking for, not really, but he can't imagine his life without Silco in it. Maybe Silco should know that, since there's a strong chance they might not make it through the night.

"We're not dead yet," Silco says dismissively, before Vander can even work out the words to say.

Vander feels his own tired grin. "That could have been a nice moment. I could have said something sentimental. Something romantic."

"Your idea of romance starts and ends with: you're pretty, want to fuck?" Silco says tiredly and Vander laughs. He's not wrong.

"Are you complaining?"

"Nothing wrong with the classics." Silco watches him, something serious lurking beneath the wry humour. "You're pretty. Want to fuck?"

It catches Vander's breath for a moment, what Silco really means. The words neither of them are saying, even if they are true. It feels safer to treat it as a joke. "Now?"

"When we get out of this," Silco clarifies. "Five more minutes, then we keep digging."

***

They keep working, hour after hour, and their small tunnel grows longer. The lantern light is growing dimmer but Vander can't afford to worry about what they'll do when it fails. How they'll make any progress when it's just them and the dark.

He looks up at Silco's shuffling footsteps and notices his kerchief is tied across his face again. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Put yours on," Silco says instead of explaining. He hands over the broken gas mask. "I tried it. Doesn't work at all with that hole."

But the only way he'd be able to test it is if… "The Grey?"

"It's started seeping through the collapse." Silco sounds calm and collected, but his hands are clenched in tight fists. "We have some time yet. Keep going."

The spike of adrenaline helps Vander to hit harder, to force the bedrock around them to give way. He stops worrying about breaking the rocks smaller and just tries to break through to something. Something that isn't sheer rock and their inevitable deaths.

Silco doesn't complain about the larger rocks; he just rolls them along the uneven floor, pushing them out. Each time he comes back breathing heavier, until he comes back and sinks to the ground, pulling his makeshift mask off to gulp for air. His eyes are red and watering.

"Swap," Vander says. "I'll take the next lot."

"What could I do," Silco says and his voice is rough as gravel, "with those gauntlets?"

"Then rest," Vander says, grabbing the largest bits of rocks and hunching over to carry them out. He finds their cavern half full of the Grey. It's creeping through the pile of broken rock, grey-green fog spreading across the floor. It stings his eyes, makes his throat feel hot and scratchy, like the start of a bad cold.

Vander clamps a hand over his mouth and heads back to Silco.

Silco is still sitting on the ground. His eyes have stopped watering but they're still bloodshot. "We have to keep going."

"Can we seal the tunnel behind us? Buy some time from the Grey?"

Silco shakes his head and then pauses, thinking. "We could set a charge. Cause a collapse to slow it down."

"Could the whole thing cave in if we do that?"

Silco shrugs. His voice still sounds rough. "Maybe. We don't have any good options here, Vander. It's a risk, whether we do it or not."

He hates that Silco's right. If they do nothing, they have to hope to dig somewhere before the Grey fills this whole tunnel. "So, best case scenario, it doesn't collapse above our heads and it seals the entrance?"

"Best case? There's enough silt above us to seal it tightly, and we dig somewhere before we breathe all of the air in one small, sealed tunnel."

"So, suffocation, suffocation or being crushed to death? What do you think?"

"Set the charges," Silco says grimly. "If we're crushed, it's quick. If we run out of air, we'll fall asleep and never wake. It's better than dying with your lungs burning as you claw at your own throat."

***

[lunaswicked]

Devotion

Paring: Jey Uso x Fem!Reader

Tags: Jealousy, fighting, mentions of a little blood, pure smut, devotion, language, p in v, 18+, toxic

Summary: Jey struggles to balance his raw desire and deep devotion for the woman who unexpectedly captures his heart.

WC: 4.4K

Today was the day everything changed—the day the dog finally snapped.  

It was unexpected, even shocking, given how close you and Jey had always been. From the moment you joined WWE two years ago, Jey had been your rock, a brother and best friend wrapped into one. His laughter a balm during grueling training sessions that could have otherwise drained your spirit. He had this way of making the chaos of the WWE universe feel a little less overwhelming, always finding the humor in the toughest moments and pushing you to be your best.  

And it wasn’t just about work. The memories of those late-night trips to Waffle House came rushing back. You’d sit in that cozy booth under fluorescent lights, indulging in plates of scattered, smothered, and covered hash browns while the jukebox hummed in the background. Every laugh, every ridiculous story shared over syrupy waffles, solidified a bond that felt unbreakable. He was always there for you, defending you against anyone who dared to step out of line, no questions asked. But today… today felt like a storm rolling in, dark and unpredictable.  

Looking back, you wondered if you had ignored the warning signs. There were moments, subtle at first, when Jey’s easygoing nature would shift. His jaw would clench, his smile would falter, and his eyes would darken whenever he saw you talking with another man. The air around him would grow heavy, tense, like he was barely holding something back. Then there were the times he wouldn’t leave your side, hovering at training sessions, public events, even casual hangouts. His constant presence was once comforting, but recently it felt suffocating, his concern teetering into something unspoken and overwhelming.  

It started after your match against Bianca. Exhaustion clung to you as you wove through the bustling crowd of wrestlers, staff, and equipment. All you wanted was a moment to yourself, a chance to decompress. But as you turned a corner, Dominik Mysterio appeared, his smile easy but his presence anything but.  

“Y/N,” he called, stepping into your path, his voice light but persistent. “We should talk. You’re always so quick to run off.”  

His tone grated against your nerves, and though you tried to brush him off with polite indifference, he wasn’t having it. His hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist—not hard, but firm enough to make your stomach churn with unease.  

“Don’t walk away,” he said, irritation lacing his words. “I’m trying to fucking get to know you—”  

“Do we got a problem?”  

The voice was low, commanding, and unmistakable. You turned, relief and apprehension flooding you all at once. Jey stood there, his eyes narrowed and intense, his signature red Yeet crop top and cargo pants adding to his imposing aura. The dim backstage lighting cast shadows across his face, emphasizing the sharp edge of his jaw and the fire in his eyes.  

Dominik tensed but didn’t back down, his confidence wavering as Jey’s gaze bore into him. “This doesn’t concern you,” Dominik said, though his voice faltered.  

The words had barely left his mouth when Jey’s fist connected with his nose in a blur of motion. The sound was sharp, a sickening crunch that made you flinch. Dominik stumbled back, clutching his face, blood trickling between his fingers.  

“Jey, stop!” you cried, rushing forward, but he wasn’t listening.  

In one swift move, Jey grabbed Dominik by the collar, slamming him against the wall with enough force to rattle a nearby stack of metal chairs. Dominik gasped, his hands scrambling against Jey’s iron grip.  

“Touch her again,” Jey growled, his voice dripping with venom, “and Imma fuck you up.”  

The scene was surreal. Jey, the same man who once teased you over burnt toast and sang off-key in the car, now stood before you like a force of nature, his anger palpable. You tugged at his arm, your voice breaking as you pleaded, “Jey, please, let him go. This isn’t worth it!”  

For a moment, his eyes flicked to yours, and you saw something raw and conflicted beneath the rage. Slowly, he released Dominik, who crumpled to the floor, coughing and sputtering. The tension hung heavy in the air as Jey turned to you, his features softening.  

“I’m taking you home,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

You hesitated, the weight of everything pressing down on you. “No, Jey,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I just… I need space.”  

His expression shifted, worry etched into every line of his face. “I’m not letting you go alone, ma. Not after that.”  

The sincerity in his voice broke through your defenses, and with a trembling sigh, you nodded. “Fine,” you said quietly. “But promise me… no more scenes.”  

As you walked side by side through the backstage maze, the world felt both heavier and lighter. Jey’s presence was a storm—chaotic, overwhelming—but in that moment, it was the only anchor you had.  

The ride home was quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavy, filled with unspoken words and emotions that lingered between the two of you. Jey's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles faintly white under the dim glow of the dashboard lights. Every few moments, his gaze darted toward you, scanning your face and frame like he was searching for signs of pain or distress.

"You good, ma?" he asked softly, his voice low and soothing, almost as if he was afraid speaking louder might shatter the fragile quiet between you.

"I'm fine," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You kept your eyes on the window, watching the world blur by in streaks of neon and shadow, but you could feel his attention lingering on you, even as he turned his focus back to the road.

"You sure?" His tone carried a weight of concern that tugged at something deep inside you. "Ain't no bruises or nothin'? You gotta tell me if there is."

You glanced down at your hands, your fingers twisting the hem of your hoodie. "No bruises," you murmured. "Just...wanna go home, I guess."

He nodded, though he didn't seem entirely convinced. His free hand briefly left the wheel, brushing against your arm in a reassuring touch. "You ain't gotta act tough with me, Y/N. I see you, ma. I know tonight was a lot."

His words made your throat tighten, and you fought the urge to cry. There was something about the way he spoke, so protective, so genuinely caring, that made it harder to keep your emotions in check. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, that you could handle it, but deep down, you weren't sure if that was true.

The rest of the drive passed in a blur of headlights and muffled music from the radio playing softly in the background. When Jey finally pulled up outside your apartment, he put the car in park but didn’t move to turn off the engine. Instead, he shifted in his seat to face you fully.

"You gonna be alright by yourself?" he asked, his eyes searching yours. "I can stay if you need me to. Don’t matter how late it is."

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Part of you wanted to tell him no, that you needed space to process everything. But another part of you—the part that still felt the ghost of Dominik’s grip on your wrist—didn’t want to be alone.

“I…” You faltered, your voice barely steady. “I don’t know.”

His brows furrowed, concern etched across his features. "Then I’m stayin’. I ain’t leavin’ you like this. Not tonight." His tone left no room for argument, but there was no harshness in it—just a quiet determination.

Before you could protest, he was out of the car and coming around to your side. He opened your door and held out his hand to help you out. The gesture was so gentle, so unlike the fury you'd seen in him earlier, that it made your chest ache.

Once inside your house, the air was thick with tension, though not the kind that made you uneasy. It was heavy with unspoken emotions, the aftermath of what had just unfolded. Jey trailed behind you, silent but present, his footsteps echoing softly against the hardwood floors.

You led him to your room, unsure of what else to do. The space was your sanctuary, but tonight it felt foreign with him in it—not unwelcome, just different. Jey sat on the edge of your bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging low. His usually confident demeanor was nowhere to be seen; instead, he looked weighed down, his broad shoulders slumped under the invisible burden of guilt.

"I fucked up," he muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was raw, laced with regret.

You didn’t respond, partly because you didn’t know what to say and partly because you weren’t sure he was looking for an answer. His words were more for himself than for you, a confession spoken into the stillness of the room.

Instead of dwelling on it, you grabbed a towel and some clothes, slipping into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The warm water cascaded over you, washing away the grime of the night, but it couldn’t cleanse the thoughts swirling in your mind.

As you stood there, letting the water soothe your tense muscles, your mind wandered to Jey. You thought about the way he’d looked at you in the car, his concern etched so clearly on his face. You thought about how he’d rushed to your side, how fiercely he’d defended you—even if his actions might’ve caused more trouble than they solved.

It hit you then, the depth of his devotion. It wasn’t just words with him, wasn’t just hollow promises. Jey had a way of showing you, even when you didn’t want to see it. He’d always been there, steady and sure, but tonight had stripped away any doubts. He cared, deeply, in a way that felt almost overwhelming. And yet, you’d been blind to it until now.

By the time you stepped out of the shower, your thoughts felt as tangled as your wet hair. You wrapped yourself in a soft robe, tying it securely around your waist before padding back to your room.

The sight that greeted you made your chest tighten. Jey was still sitting on the edge of your bed, in the same position you’d left him. His hands were clasped together, his head bowed, as if he was lost in thought—or maybe prayer. The soft glow of your bedside lamp cast shadows across his face, highlighting the lines of tension around his mouth and the furrow of his brows.

“You don’t have to beat yourself up,” you said softly, your voice breaking the quiet.

Jey’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just took you in—the damp hair framing your face, the way your robe clung to your frame. His gaze wasn’t predatory or heated; it was searching, as if he was trying to gauge where you stood with him.

“can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “Should’ve kept my cool. But when I saw him put his hands on you…” His jaw clenched, and he looked away, his fists tightening in his lap. “I lost it, mama. I lost it ’cause I couldn’t stand him touching you.”

Your heart ached at his words, at the raw honesty in his tone. You took a step closer, then another, until you were standing in front of him. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the vulnerability in them nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“You did what you thought you had to do,” you said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. His warmth seeped through the fabric of his shirt, grounding you. “I’m not mad at you, Jey. I just… I need a little time to process everything.”

He nodded slowly, his hand reaching up to cover yours where it rested on his shoulder. “Take all the time you need, ma. I just… I need you to know I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe. No matter what happens, I got you. Always.”

You lay on your bed, the soft covers beneath you a stark contrast to the chaotic emotions swirling in your chest. Jey followed suit without hesitation. Instead of laying beside you, he settled himself between your thighs, his strong arms draped over your hips like he was grounding himself in your presence. His cheek pressed against your stomach, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of your robe.

This was new—uncharted territory for the two of you. You’d never been this close before, and yet, it didn’t feel wrong. It felt natural, like some unspoken barrier had finally been broken.

Without thinking, your hand found its way to his hair. Your fingers moved instinctively, threading through his soft curls and rubbing his scalp in slow, soothing motions. He let out a soft groan at the touch, his eyes fluttering closed as his body seemed to melt against yours.

“Ma…” he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion. The single syllable held so much: need, relief, reverence.

You glanced down at him, your gaze catching his as he tilted his head slightly to look up at you. The way his dark eyes softened, how they searched yours like you held the answer to everything he’d been yearning for, made your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. The words felt small compared to the weight of the moment, but they were all you could manage.

His lips parted slightly as your hand continued its gentle path through his hair. His pupils dilated, his gaze growing more intense with every stroke of your fingers. You could feel the tension in his body ease, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“This all I wanted,” he admitted softly, his voice shaky yet resolute. “To be close to you like this.”

His words made your chest tighten, and you couldn’t help but let your thumb brush against the shell of his ear, drawing another quiet groan from him. The sound sent a shiver through you, and you realized just how much trust he was placing in you at that moment.

“You deserve this,” you said, your voice firmer now, laced with conviction. 

His eyes closed briefly, as if your words were too much to take in. When they opened again, they glistened with unshed emotion. “You make me feel like… I’m enough,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly.

“You are,” you assured him, your hand never faltering in its movements. “You always have been.”

His fingers, hesitant yet deliberate, softly moved your robe to the side, revealing more of your skin to the cool air of the room. The motion was slow, as if he were testing your reaction, giving you every opportunity to stop him. His touch was warm and reverent, not rushed or demanding, but filled with an almost unspoken plea for closeness.

You felt your breath hitch as his fingertips brushed against your bare thigh, the sensation igniting a warmth that spread through you. Jey’s gaze flicked up to yours, searching your face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. When he found none, his lips parted slightly, and he let out a quiet exhale, almost like he was relieved.

“this okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he feared breaking the fragile intimacy that surrounded you both.

You swallowed hard, nodding slowly, unable to find the words to articulate the storm of emotions building within you. His touch was unlike anything you’d experienced before—gentle yet firm, protective yet vulnerable.

His thumb traced small circles on your thigh, his movements careful and measured. “so fucking sexy,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tighten. “Don’t think you even know how much.”

Your hand, still buried in his hair, stilled for a moment as you processed his words. The rawness of his tone, the way his gaze lingered on you like you were something sacred, made your heart ache in the best possible way.

“Jey…” you started, your voice trembling slightly, but he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’, ma,” he said softly, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin. “Just let me… take care of you. Im sorry”

Your fingers instinctively tightened in Jey's hair, giving it a slight tug. The reaction was immediate—his deep, throaty groan vibrated against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His head tilted slightly, leaning into your touch as though your hand in his hair was all the grounding he needed.

"fuck," he murmured against you, his voice filled with raw hunger and devotion. His fingers, which had been resting on your thigh, moved with an agonizing slowness, brushing against your clothed pussy. The delicate pressure sent sparks of warmth coursing through you, your breath hitching in response.

The friction, though gentle, was enough to make you gasp, your hips subtly shifting to meet his touch. Jey’s eyes flicked up to yours, catching your expression, and the satisfaction in his gaze only deepened the heat pooling in your core.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his lips curving into a soft, almost reverent smile before leaning down to press a series of hungry but tender kisses at your pussy, the fabric of your underwear barely separating his lips from your sensitive skin.

Without a word, he dipped his head and took the waistband of your panties between his teeth, his grills glinting under the soft light. The cool touch of the metal sent a thrill through you as he slowly began to tug them down, his movements deliberate and teasing.

The sight of you bare before him seemed to shatter the last thread of Jey's composure. His pupils blew wide, his breathing turned shallow, and a guttural groan escaped his lips as his gaze roamed over every inch of your exposed skin. Something primal flickered in his expression, raw and unrestrained, like he was a man starved and you were his only salvation.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he muttered, his voice low and ragged as his fingers gripped your thighs with a reverence that bordered on desperation. “You got me losin’ my damn mind.”

With a growl, Jey shifted, his strong hands gripping your thighs as he effortlessly pinned your knees back by your head. The sheer dominance of the gesture sent a shiver through you, anticipation coiling tight in your belly. His dark eyes met yours briefly, filled with a hunger that made your breath hitch, before he dove back in.

His mouth latched onto your clit, and he began to suck with a deliberate, intoxicating rhythm. A loud whimper tore from your lips before you could stop it, your head falling back against the pillow. “Fuck…” you moaned, your voice trembling as the sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Jey groaned against you, the vibrations adding to your pleasure as his tongue teased and circled, driving you wild. “Yeah, ma,” he muttered between sucks, his voice thick with desire. “Sing for me. Let me know how good it feels.”

Your hands gripped at the sheets, your knuckles white as the pleasure built, hot and fast. “Jey, oh my God,” you gasped, your hips trying to rise off the bed, but his firm hold kept you in place, completely at his mercy.

“You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmured against you, his breath hot and heavy as he returned to his relentless assault. His tongue flicked and swirled in perfect rhythm, every movement calculated to push you closer to the edge.

The intensity of his focus, the way he devoured you like you were his last meal, had you unraveling in record time. Each flick of his tongue, each pull of his lips, was a symphony of sensation that had you teetering on the brink, your body trembling under his touch.

But just as you were teetering on the edge of bliss, he stopped abruptly, leaving you breathless and trembling. Before you could even process the loss of contact, he moved with a urgency, flipping you over like you weighed nothing.  

His large hands smoothed over your hips, then hiked them up, positioning you exactly how he wanted. “Arch that back for me,” he commanded, his voice low and dripping with authority. Your body obeyed on instinct, your chest pressing into the mattress as you arched your hips higher.  

“Pl-please…jey” you whimpered, your voice desperate, need dripping from every syllable. Your legs trembled slightly as he lined himself up behind you, the thick head of his cock brushing teasingly against your slick entrance.  

“Please what, huh?” His tone was taunting yet velvety, sending shivers down your spine. He leaned forward, his lips grazing your earlobe as his words fanned hot against your skin. “You gotta use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”  

Your breath hitched, your lips parting, but before you could form a coherent response, he began to push the thick crown of his dick into you, inch by agonizing inch. “I need you… I need you inside- fuckkkk!” you cried out, your words dissolving into a loud moan as he stretched you open, the pressure sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body.  

Jey didn’t give you a chance to adjust before he thrust again, this time burying himself to the hilt. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice guttural, laced with raw pleasure. “Tightest fuckin’ pussy I ever felt. You were made for me.”  

Your elbows gave out, your head dropping into the sheets as the intensity of his thickness overwhelmed your senses. Your moans were muffled by the fabric, but Jey wasn’t having that. His hand smoothed down your back before gripping your neck lightly, guiding your face to turn to the side so he could hear every sound you made.  

“Keep your face in the sheets, but don’t you dare hide those pretty little sounds from me,” he growled, his thrusts slow and deep, each one hitting that spot that made you see stars.  

The rhythm of his hips escalated, and soon the room filled with the obscene sounds of skin meeting skin, the creaking of the bed, and the steady thud of the headboard against the wall. It was a symphony of filth, a testament to the primal connection between you.  

“You feel that?” he grunted, his voice thick with pleasure as his fingers dug into your hips. “Feel how deep I am, baby? This dick got you speechless, huh?”  

“Yes—yes!” you choked out, your voice a mixture of desperation and ecstasy. But your words were cut short when his hand cracked against your ass, the sting making you yelp before it melted into another moan.  

“That’s right,” he groaned, his pace quickening as he angled his hips to hit deeper. “Take it all, baby. This is mine, every fuckin’ inch of you.”  

His thrusts became more erratic, each one driving you closer to the edge. Your fingers clawed at the sheets, your body shaking as the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core. “Jey, I’m—oh my God, I’m so close!”  

“Good,” he growled, his hand gripping your waist to pull you back onto his cock with each powerful thrust. “Don’t hold back, baby. I wanna feel you cum all over me.”  

“Fuck…” Jey groaned, his voice low and hoarse, thick with his own pleasure. He leaned down, his lips brushing your cheek as he tasted the salty tear that had fallen. The gesture was unexpected, intimate in a way that made your chest tighten even as your body gave itself over to him completely.

Your hands gripped the sheets, bunching them into fists as your body shook. The obscene sound of your juices mixed with the rhythmic slap of his hips against yours filled the room, the sheets beneath you growing damp from the evidence of your arousal.

“Jey, I—” you tried to speak, but your voice broke off into a guttural moan as he shifted his angle, driving even deeper into you. It was too much and yet not enough all at once, every nerve in your body alight with sensation.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice full of pride as he watched your body writhe beneath him. “Drippin’ all over me. You’re so fuckin’ perfect, ma. Takin’ all this dick like you were made for me.”

You whimpered in response, your legs trembling as the tension in your core tightened impossibly more. He felt it too, the way your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper. “That’s it,” he coaxed, his thrusts becoming sloppier but no less powerful. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

With a sharp cry, your body tensed, and the release hit you like a tidal wave. Your vision blurred as you fell over the edge, your moans loud and broken as your orgasm ripped through you. Your body shook uncontrollably, your juices gushing onto him as he continued to fuck you through it, prolonging every moment of bliss.

“Shit, baby,” Jey groaned, his voice strained as your pulsing walls milked him. He buried himself deep, his thick length twitching inside you as he gave in to his own release. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me—” His words cut off into a deep, guttural moan as his hips stilled, his cock buried to the hilt as he spilled himself inside you.

You felt the warmth of his release, the way his body trembled above yours as he came, and it sent another shiver down your spine. His forehead rested against your shoulder, his breaths hot and heavy against your skin.

For a moment, the room was filled only with the sound of your mingled breathing, the aftermath of what had just happened settling between you. His hands softened their grip on your hips, his touch turning tender as he smoothed them over your skin.

“You good?” he murmured after a beat, his voice soft now, full of concern despite the rawness of the moment.

You nodded weakly, your body too spent to form words. But as he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close, you realized that, in this moment, you’d never felt more wanted, more taken care of, or more his.

[footballerimaginess]

Leaving the club together

Long Imagine based off of this blurb here 

Mason Mount  You bump into Mason during a night out and you two have been on a few dates and end up leaving the club together Word Count: 584 “Shit” you whispered as you walked into the night club and instantly recognised someone. “What’s up?” they looked at you as you stopped in your tracks as you saw Mason standing there. 

“Mason, he is over there. Fuck-oh shit he has already seen me” you murmured as you stopped in your tracks as you watched him walking towards you. "Why you saying fuck? you have always liked him. You know you still have feelings for him" they asked you as you shook your head, doing your best to deny it. But you just couldn't. "Oh stop it, you know I still like him. I just can't bring myself to tell him again. I went through pain last time we even spoke. But now what am I supposed to do, he probably has zero interest in me" you told them all as Mason walked towards you. "Hey, been a while since we have seen each other. Have you been avoiding me?" Mason smirks as you watched as he nervously rubs the back of his neck. "Nope, the same could be said for you? you moved to Manchester and I've not heard from you for once" you shrugged." "Mm I suppose, so how are you?" he asked as he sipped on his drink. "Yeah I am good, been busy with work. I see you aren't playing yet, still got a knock?" you asked him as you leaned on the bar. "Yeah sadly still injured, seems that's all I have been since moving to Manchester. Maybe I shouldn't have done it, but too late to even think that now sadly" you could see the pain in his eyes as he was talking about his injuries. "Oh Mase, you shouldn't say that. These things happen, you'll be playing I know you will babe. Anyway what happened between us? we had been on dates and you basically ghosted me. I didn't think you were like that" you sighed as he turned to face the bar staff as he ordered another drink. "Here, I know this has always been your favourite" he grinned as he slid you a vodka lemonade. "Thank you Mase, so what do you think happened? I have missed us, this actually" you smiled as you watched as Mason brushed past you. "Let's go somewhere so we can talk, its getting loud here" he suggested as he put his hand out for you to hold onto it tightly. "I don't know what happened to us, but I think maybe we should get back on track with us. We had such a good time on our dates, would you erm? I dunno like to out for food?" he asked you. "Yeah that would be nice, when? I can come down to Manchester to see you?" you suggested. "Oh well, I was thinking now? Can we go out to a restaurant now? Sorry if you think I'm being a bit forward" Mason nervously asks. "Let me just tell the girls, I'll be right back okay" you shouted as you jumped up and headed to find the girls who were partying on the dance floor. "Girls, I will see you later. Mason wants to head out for food so we can catch up, I promise I will fill you in later" you shouted at them. "Ooooh you go girl" they shouted as you hugged them all as you headed to meet Mason. "Ready" you smiled as you took his hand in yours as you headed out to get some food. Do we want part 2??

[jax-interacts]

Painful, Disgusting Vulnerability

I wrote a Jax fanfic just a few days ago about him getting a migraine while working at Spudsy's then talking to Gangle for a while. I figured maybe it'd be good to share here :]

Wordcount: 1.3k

Content Warnings: Cursing. Descriptions of migraines, pain, nausea, and overstimulation. Heavily implied internalized ableism. If there are more, please let me know!

AO3 Link

Reblogs/comments/asks are appreciated!! I'm taking requests :333

Entire fic under cut :]

Why the fuck was this the adventure today.

Usually it wasn’t so bad, a breath of fresh air, a dim room, something manageable. But this? Jax wanted to scream.

His head throbbed within a rhythm that the fluorescent lights flickered with. He was legitimately going to kill Gangle later.

Granted, the lunch rush was over, that was nice at least. But it didn’t end the tightness in his jaw and neck as he forced his mind through every thought and consequential movement for that Spudsy Satisfaction Guarantee™

Whatever that meant anyway.

He finished serving a customer- one reused from a previous adventure, but he couldn’t care enough to catch the name as he closed his eyes tightly. Fireworks exploded behind his eyelids and he took a full second before being able to open them again.

It was getting darker outside, maybe he could take a second out there to escape all of this. He settled on the idea too quickly for his liking as he squinted down the room and walked to the back entrance. He knocked into someone on the way there, forcing him to take another deep breath to erase the upcoming nausea and he stormed past without a second acknowledgement. There was something said to him, either from Pomni or Gangle, he didn’t quite notice, but either way, it certainly wasn’t important enough. 

The moment he stepped outside and closed the door wasn’t pure relief, but it was close enough to it. He roughly moved himself onto the ground, stumbling partially on his way.

Why- why did they have to do an adventure like this? 

He shakily exhaled and clutched his temple. Maybe the walk-in freezer would be better, something cold to put on his forehead, but he mentally rejected the idea since it would involve stepping back into the chaos another time, even if just for a brief moment.

He considered his options carefully. Okay well maybe not carefully, but he spent a while considering the pros and cons. He started barely uncurling himself from his spot on the dirty pavement when the door suddenly slammed open.

Instinctively, he covered his ears and closed his eyes, unable to rise over the surge of pain. He took a few sharp inhales before he felt a presence on his shoulder and he quickly moved away with a small whimper. He looked at the direction and- Gangle.

He shivered, maybe from the cold breeze, and put his hands over his eyes, “What do you want, Ribbons?”

Gangle’s chipper voice felt like silverware on porcelain, “That’s no way to talk to a manager, and this certainly isn’t what you’re supposed to be doing! Didn’t I tell you to-”

“I don’t care what you told me to do. Not right now," Jax's voice quivered just a small amount. He couldn’t stop himself from talking, “Not right now, I- I need a minute. I need two at least.”

Gangle tilted her head but Jax didn’t look over at all, “You’ve already taken well over the allowed amount of break time for today. Do I need to give you some more training so you’ll-”

“Shut up, Gangle!” He looked at her for the first time during that conversation. Gangle’s face shifted as it typically did, a bit sad and almost wincing. She blurred in his vision as water rose- nope, he was crying. Dammit, he couldn’t do this in front of her. Kinger, Pomni- practically anyone except the one actually in charge for once, getting a high from the control she suddenly possessed. 

He quickly looked away and put his hands over his eyes. Aside from hiding the tears better, it built some nice pressure and hid the light further. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

His anxiety struggled to build some kind of witty insult before Gangle hesitantly spoke, her voice much softer, “Jax… are you okay?”

“Peachy.”

“No, I-” Gangle sighed. The two were never close, how could they be? The only thing they had in common was the hell they were in, but even in that moment, it wasn’t truly shared. “I can leave if you want me to. I’ll take over your role for a bit.”

Jax looked at Gangle, forgetting the embarrassment just for a moment. The tears still remained in his eyes but didn’t quite overflow. He opened his mouth to speak only to exhale, finally pushing the water over the edge. He wiped them away without as much concern, no one would believe Gangle if she told the others, right?

“Um…” Jax awkwardly felt his mind blank, almost as if all the potential words he could use were floating infinitely in front of him, unable to be obtained. “I got a question actually.”

Gangle perked right up into her upbeat voice, “Go right ahead!” Jax’s flinch went well-acknowledged as she followed up in a conversational whisper, “I’m all ears.” She took a small step and sat down next to Jax, trying to clean the ground a bit before sitting. 

“Y’know the training you sent me to?” His mouth was dry upon the memory but he persisted with Gangle’s nod, “How does that work? Do you decide like…” 

Gangle continued after a moment, “Well I’m not sure what exactly you went through in there, but I mostly thought about you watching training videos, like on an old VCR. The kind-” she chuckled, “The kind I watched when I trained for my old job.”

Jax nodded to himself and remained quiet. “What about the darkness there?”

“Darkness?”

“Yeah, it was-” This was stupid, he already got a breath of fresh air, next time his pain surged he should just go to the supply closet and lock it behind him. Screw talking about it. “Never mind, forget it. I can work just fine.” He started getting up but his body naturally slowed him down with an even worse pain spike as he groaned and clutched his head. He felt her gaze pierce through his body, taking in the savory details. He excused himself in a rough voice, “I’m fine, really.”

“No no, Jax, rest for a moment.” She hovered near his body, encouraging him to sit without inherently making contact. He got the message whether he wanted to or not and curled himself into a ball. He forgot she was next to him until about a minute later. “To answer your question, I guess I did imagine darkness. The few days I trained, the lights were out, so it was just me and the old-fashioned mini-TV.”

She waited a moment before continuing, “I could try to send you there. With um. The darkness? Just that or would you want the videos too?”

“Just the darkness. No sound, I-” He looked at her, though not by much, still trying to shield any of the nearby light. “Why are you helping me? I…” He flashed through his memories, piece by piece of every interaction they’ve had, “If I was in your spot, I’d make my life hell.” He pushed out a constrained laugh, “It wouldn’t be that hard to do that.”

Gangle frowned. “This is different.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah.” They both waited a while. “I’m not angry at you.”

“You aren’t?” 

“Not at all.” She laughed sadly, “Maybe I should be. But… I’m not.”

Jax hated how he felt like a broken record, looping on ideas in the same way the pain rotated around, playing with his mind like silly putty. “You should be. Really, Gangle.” His voice became small. “This is probably your one and only shot.”

Gangle sighed softly with a smile, “And I’m okay with it going to waste. I’ll figure something else out if I ever wanted to ‘get back’ at you.”

His mind ran with a million questions, but he felt too exhausted to push any out, so he just numbly nodded instead. Gangle stood up, and there was a panged realization within Jax that maybe she wasn’t going to help at all and it was all a plan to humiliate him at his worst and send him right back to work when he finally expects relief. But all he really got was a succinct, “Goodbye Jax. I hope the ‘training’ helps.”

And he was gone. And it was dark. And he felt his body collapse beneath him yet the ground was soft and expecting his arrival.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Black! F! Reader X Yandere Spirit/Entity

A/N: Was in the mood for some 80s horror movie esque writing. Also still living off my Nosferatu high

TW: Dubcon, stalking, deception

Your family had just moved from their apartment in the city to a quiet suburb.

The neighbors were nice, they said hi, and the next day you were off to your new high school.

You were 18, grades were doing well, and waiting on your acceptance letter to your state’s best college. Walking down the hallways felt a bit strange, you weren’t used to seeing that many white people or anyone else that didn’t look you to be honest.

But you made friends quickly and soon enough you were hanging with your new friends, May, Jack, and Arianna.

One day they said they wanted to take you out to eat, so you got in the car and next thing you’re out like a light. You wake up tied to an altar, and your friends are chanting in a weird language.

“Guys, what the fuck?!” You scream, only for them to chant louder.

You feel a presence behind you and a skinny man with a fedora, suit, and fancy shoes walks to your friends.

“Well done, my minions…for your hard work you shall be rewarded…” It or he says, taking off its hat.

He snaps his fingers and your friend’s bend their backs like they were pieces of paper.

He turns toward you, and you see his ghostly pale eyes and sharp nails.

You scream, and scream, and scream, closing your eyes for what’s to come. Only to open them and be in your bed, covered in sweat.

You get out of bed and prepare for school. You could’ve sworn you saw a pair of eyes looking at you in the mirror, but when you turned around there was no one there.

So you get in the shower and feel the shower curtain touching your feet. You move it away and keeps touching your feet until you see the curtain in the shape of a hand, and panic.

You slip in the shower, and you expect to hit your head, but feel nothing.

The same thing from your dream(?) was holding your naked body, and staring at you too.

You cover your private parts and he chuckles, kissing your forehead.

He vanishes and you get up from the floor and stop your shower.

You look around for him, then get dressed. You put your black hair in an Afro-puff, tightening the shoe lace around your hair only to see he’s back again.

“You look really pretty,” He says, getting up from the toilet cover and walking up to you.

“What do you want?” You demand, pointing your parting comb at him.

“Is it so bad to want the love and attention of your lover?”

“…”

“ Hair accessories? Do you like those? I see a lot of them in your room-”

“You’ve been in my room?!”

“Only to watch over you. You’re so interesting when you sleep. All the little noises you make and how softly your body turns-”

“Get out. Get the hell out of my house!”

He stops and stares at you, surprised by your outburst.

“I can’t do that. You’re mine. You’re friends-well former friends made it so. Do you not understand that I’m your husband?”

“Ugh!”

You leave the bathroom and get into your car, driving to school.

You couldn’t find your friends, but that didn’t matter considering every time you looked in a mirror while using a bathroom, he’d be staring back at you.

You were never truly alone anywhere you went.

“Ready for bed, darling?” He asks, creeping into your bed and spooning you.

“Leave me alone!” You growl, pushing him off the bed. “I don’t want you! I don’t want you anywhere near me! Go away before I convince my parents to paint the entire house Haint Blue!”

Without a word, he vanishes. For the first time in a couple of days, you sleep peacefully.

When you head to school the next morning, the entire senior class was buzzing with the arrival of a new student.

His name was Drayden Mayers, he was medium brown with freckles across his cheeks. Brown hair coloring his curls with light green eyes to match.

“Hi,” Drayden says, waving to you.

You ignore him for his own good, not wanting him to disappear like your friends.

But eventually, you warm up to him with the absence of your husband.

One thing led to another and then you’re dating.

You went to his house and that’s when he started kissing you like you’re a rare meal.

His lips feel otherworldly, leaving little bursts of pleasure with every touch.

You wrap your arms around his and he carries you to his room.

It was incredibly basic with few sports posters. But you could’ve cared less.

Right now you were focusing on Drayden taking off your shirt and worshipping your breasts.

He squeezes them, kisses them, gropes them, everything to make sure you feel good.

You arch your back as he goes lower and put your hands on his hair. You slightly tug it once he starts kissing your thighs, earning a chuckle from him.

“Easy, love,” Drayden coos, guiding your hand so it pushes his head into your pussy.

He eats you out, sucking, licking, and kissing your folds. You grip his hair tighter until he lifts his head up in satisfaction that you’ve came on his mouth.

Drayden sits up and positions himself to enter you. He holds your cheeks and kisses you as sticks his tip in.

You wince a little and Drayden kisses your neck.

Once you relax, he starts to gently thrust, enjoying your being.

He holds your legs up and as you both start to become undone, you see the disguise slip.

His hair becomes black like his nails, and his skin is an unearthly pale. But his eyes are a lifeless blue pale giving him the resemblance of human fish eyes.

“Drayden?” You moan, looking at him in shock.

“I’m so sorry. It was the only way to make me like you. I’d be any man on Earth if it pleased you,” He answers, speeding up inside you. “I love you and love you for all of eternity!”

You kiss him believing the boy you know as Drayden was actually possessed by him.

You couldn’t have been more wrong as you feel something cold travel down your throat, and into your soul.

The spirit finishes inside you and his form changes to a mix of Drayden and its original self.

His tan hands stroke your cheek, as his head lays on your shoulder.

“Thank you for choosing me,” He coos, kissing your cheek.

His cold kisses tickle your skin, and you close your eyes realizing you’re tied to him beyond your grave and to the end of time.