#I feel like we forget that there’s other parts of the body that can be stimulated besides genitals

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 11

Hey guys! We're back!! It is feeling like this story is almost done, but every time I finish a chapter I go "This has two more chapters in it, I'm almost done!" and I've done that for the last three chapters. So I have given up trying to figure out when it's going to end. Hopefully the answer is sometime before the next Olympics.

In this we have a silly Eddie, Steve and Max are sneaky, and Max and Eddie have their first competition.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

~

Steve continued to have good days and bad days, but always Eddie and Robin were there to help him work through the bad. And then he would spill it all out to Dr. Hughes.

Today he had been able to wade out to Max in the main pool to correct her foot work. The water had come up to his chest, just like it did in the kiddie pool.

“All right,” Steve said gently. “I’m going to touch your leg. If you feel uncomfortable in anyway, I’ll have Robin do it instead, okay?”

Max thought about it for a moment. “But just my leg right?”

“Just your ankle even,” he assured her. “Ready?”

Max waded over to the side of the pool and started kicking her feet to level out her body. Steve gently grabbed her ankle and repositioned her foot so it was more like an extension of her leg.

“Whoa!”

“That’s right,” he said, “now keep it like that.”

Robin and Eddie who had been working in the endless pool came back to the main pool just as Steve was pulling his shirt back on.

Eddie eyed the wet swim trunks and the happily kicking Max and a sly smile spread over his face. “Stevie... you wouldn’t have happened to have gotten into the pool with Max would you have?”

Steve batted his eyelashes innocently. “Who me?” He turned to Max. “Did you see me get into the pool?”

“Nope!”

Eddie knelt on the side of the pool and said, “I’ll buy you ice cream for the next month if you tell me if he got in the pool.”

Robin sneaked up behind him and with Max’s help pulled him into the water as gently as they could, as to not trigger Steve.

It must have worked because when they all came up for air, Steve was doubled over with laughter.

“Absolute menaces the lot of you,” he said once he caught his breath. “I got the competition schedule for next week. Max is in beginner and Eddie in intermediate. I tried to argue for higher, but they because you’ve been out for so long, they want you in there first to see if you have room to grow.”

Eddie wiped the water off of his face. “That’s fair. I don’t think I’m ready for higher yet anyway.”

Steve gave him a fond look. “And then that’s what we’ll do. If you don’t feel comfortable competing at above intermediate yet, then I won’t force you. I just worry they’ll accuse of you of deliberately choosing lower to spank fifteen and sixteen year olds.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment.

“Oh.”

He went to go shove his hair in front of his face, but it was all tucked away in his cap, so he started to sink into the water.

Steve, Robin, and Max all watched as he held his breath under water.

“So how long do you think he can hold his breath?” Max asked after about a minute. “Because I think cell death happens after three minutes.”

“Eh...” Robin said waving her hand back and forth, “about four to five, actually.”

Just then Eddie burst through the water, gasping for air. He wiped the water away and looked around. “So is anyone going to be nice and completely forget that happened?”

All three of them shared glances with each other and then said together, “No.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands. He slunk off to his lane with a sigh. “Woe! Woe is me! For I have been forsaken by my own team. Woe!”

Steve and Max shared a glance.

“Is he always this dramatic?” Max asked, eyeing Eddie splashing about and moaning about his fate or some shit.

Robin scoffed as she pulled herself out of the pool and rotated to sit on its edge. “This is tame for him, if I’m being honest.”

Eddie stopped his sputtering and turned to her quickly. “I? I am dramatic?” Then he made a sweeping bow, nearly face planting into the water. “Why thank you!”

Everyone giggled but Max and Eddie got back into their lanes and started practicing again. Robin got up and went to go stand by Steve.

“I’m glad you were able to help Max on your own,” she murmured. “But just remember, if you can’t, call and I’ll coming running, okay?”

“Okay.”

~

It was their first swim meet and Robin wasn’t sure who was more nervous, Max and Eddie or Steve.

She was sure that that pen lid would be a mangled, tangled up mess by the time this was over with.

She looked around the room, spotting a few friends, the Hell Squad from their own facility, and one very unfriendly face indeed.

Billy Hargrove.

Billy Hargrove was a swimmer from California and he thought living on the coast instantly made you a better swimmer. He even had that bit of surfer boy charm. You’d expect this blond haired, blued eyed, tan Adonis to start singing Beach Boys or some shit, but no.

Billy Hargrove was an ass. And he hated all the comparisons between him and Steve at the last Olympics. Dude went on to barely win bronze in two of five events and not medal in any of the others.

Today he was wearing a red and gold coach’s jacket with HARGROVE emblazoned on the back with two blonds standing next him as he talked them in low voices. One was a girl with strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, and bright smile. The other was a guy that looked about the same age as the girl. He looked like he had walked out the pages of Good Christians R Us. Hair neatly cut, blue eyes, chiseled jaw and washboard abs.

Robin hated them both on sight.

She was about to steer Steve away from all that when Billy looked up immediately clocked Steve, who promptly stiffened.

Max and Eddie who were talking to him noticed the sudden change in Steve’s demeanor. And unlike the locker room with Andy, Eddie could tell that this was a different breed of shark coming their way.

“Stevie...” Billy greeted. “When I saw the name Harrington I was wondering if that was you and then here you are. Such a pleasant surprise.”

Robin and Steve shared a bitchy glance. “Pleasant isn’t the word I would use,” Steve scoffed.

“You actually getting in the water, Harrington, or are you going to bitch out again?” Billy went on as if Steve hadn’t said a word.

Steve seethed. Billy had been present the first time he tried to get into the pool after his accident and started screaming.

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” Eddie said with a grin, “Stevie here doesn’t need to get in the water to beat you. He has me.”

Billy looked him up and down and he looked impressed for all of two seconds before he scoffed. “I didn’t think they allowed boys with such pretty curls,” he said tugging on one of the strands. Eddie swatted his hand away. “Maybe you should be on the girls’ team.”

“Last time I checked,” Eddie huffed, “I have the balls for the men’s team. Can’t say the same for the asshole who came up and harassed a guy that had his Olympic dreams washed away because of faulty equipment that left him traumatized and hurt for life, but still loves to swim so much that he would rather coach then to walk away forever.”

Billy’s face twisted in rage and he opened his mouth to reply when the whistle sounded. He jabbed a finger in Eddie’s face. “We’re not done.”

He walked off and suddenly all the tension built up in Steve escaped like a deflated balloon.

“That guy is a dick,” Max hissed. “My mom used to date a guy just like him out in Cali. Wouldn’t surprise me if they were related.”

That made Steve laugh. “I’ll beat him where I’ve always beaten him, in the water. Now come on, it’s time for you two to hit the showers. The beginners are about to start. You’re in the third heat, Max, first podium.”

She nodded and her and Eddie took off their team shirts and hit the showers. Steve looked over at Billy and smirked. Billy was watching every inch of Eddie’s body as he padded over to the showers that were next to the pool.

Robin handed him his bobby pins and he deftly put his hair under the cap, making it as sleek as any of the other male contestants.

The first set of eight girls lined up and then they were off with the shot of the starting gun. Steve watched, looking out for the girls that would be Max’s competition. So far none of the girls showed real promise and that included the girl who won.

The next heat was the same. None of the other girls had the same spark Max did. He looked up to the stands where the families were supposed to there to cheer them on. Robin’s parents were there. Eddie’s uncle, too. Of course Steve’s parents wouldn’t be there. He hadn’t talked them in so long.

He didn’t see the woman that would come to pick up Max and it made Steve squirm a bit. Then just before Max’s heat, he saw her come rushing in. Her hair was wild as if she had been running and she looked out of breath. She leaned over to whisper something to Wayne. Wayne shook his head and pointed to where Max was getting ready to get up on her podium.

Steve went over to her and pointed up at the stands.

Max’s eyes lit up and she waved at her mom. Her mom waved back. Max got up on her podium and put her goggles in place over her eyes. Steve stepped back and gave the judge with the gun a nod, showing that he had moved back far enough. Then the gun went off.

Max easily kept pace with the other girls and managed to squeak out winning by an arms length, touching her pad first.

She pulled off her goggles and looked at her time. She had clearly won. She started jumping and shrieking in the water. She pulled herself out and ran up to give Steve the biggest hug.

“I told you, you could do it,” Steve murmured into her cap.

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed. “Nerd.”

They went through the next few heats and Max came in third overall in the girls division. Which considering it was her first meet, was very impressive.

Then it was time for the intermediate and as they watched the girls, Eddie began bouncing up and down to warm up his muscles.

“You ready to blow these people out of the water?” Steve asked with a grin. “I gave the organizers one last chance to put you in masters, but they wouldn’t do it.”

Eddie chuckled. “I don’t have the confidence you do in me, but hell yeah, I’m ready.”

Steve slapped him on the shoulder and watched as Eddie got up to the podium. He pulled the goggles over his eyes and turned away from the water.

This is what he loved most of all about the backstroke. Not facing the water or seeing his competitors out of the corners of his eyes. It was just him and waiting for the sound of the gun.

BANG!

And then he was arching backwards into the water, as smooth as silk. His arms and body worked with the water, slicing through like a hot knife through butter. He could hear the splashing of the other competitors but they all seemed so distant to himself. Not that they were that far away. Only that he felt on whole other realm then they were.

He touched the pad and peeled off his googles to look up at the clock.

He was in first place.

He was in first place.

He was in first place.

He looked up at the stands to see Mrs. Mayfield and Uncle Wayne on their feet and cheering for him. He raised his fist and they waved back excitedly.

It came as no surprise that he won best overall.

He was standing next to Steve celebrating with his team, when the judges came up to them.

“We would like to talk to you about moving up to the masters,” the first judge said with a grimace.

Eddie and Steve shared a knowing grin.

“I think that could be arranged,” Steve said, smug. The ‘I told you so’ lingering in the humid air of the pool.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Time for a long Aylin ramble, because I haven't indulged in a while.

I'm actually really invested in Aylin being an aasimar! I do not think it is a misnomer or mistake, as I've seen people suggest. She was referred to as a celestial explicitly in some older builds of the game, but this was changed at some point during development. And I noted aasimar enjoyer Oath, quelle surprise prefer it this way for a variety of reasons. Primarily, I think, because it lets her be larger than life, have a touch of that other-worldliness and otherness, while keeping her very much "of this world" still, very (physically and otherwise) present and part of the prime material plane, and ultimately far more human than I believe even she herself would sometimes like to be.

To bring up the most basic and rules/mechanics-bound "creature type" level of categorisation, as an aasimar she is a humanoid, and not a celestial - outsider. Her outsider status is absolutely there and a goldmine of things to explore, but that's a different post sitting in my drafts for far too long that I'll get around to one of these days (but for now you should read this post that I love). Yes, she is in a very real sense above it all, she will outlast everyone around her and whatever she gets involved with. We also get to see her dramatic poetic archaic speech idiosyncrasies (Ho!), her odd sense of the passage of time, and, of course, her oft-discussed and joked about apparent lack of filter or regard for current social graces.

(Endlessly amused at her just going: I'll do it when my mum tells me to.)

All things combined, Aylin feels more like a being of two worlds to me than a guest visiting this one, even as she is called the emissary of a goddess. She embodies a blending and an odd balancing act between the lofty divine and the mundane, duty and preordained purpose and personhood, and touches on the many ways this balance can be tipped. A classic D&D aasimar struggle, really, and a well I am happy to keep returning to.

Balthazar: She was a unique specimen even before I began my work. Aasimar. A god's blood united with mortal flesh.

She honestly isn't even that far from a regular aasimar stat- and ability-wise - Aylin does have several special abilities, but these are flavoured as blessings from her divine mother instead of an inherent property of her as a creature - though, notably, Aylin herself at one point claims she is always reborn because "it is [her] nature".

“Blessed with the favour of a goddess, Nightsong cannot be permanently killed. When unconscious, at the start of her turn she recovers 1 hit point.” “Nightsong will be resurrected by the powers of Selûne whenever she dies.”

Importantly, she does not get to reincarnate, or get a new body, or flit away to her "home plane" or anything like what celestials get to do. She is anchored to this one physical existence (again, very human of her), tied and limited to this one body as it painstakingly repairs itself over and over and over (to a sometimes extreme extent, e.g. the all but outright stated regrowing of amputated body parts in a frankly horrifying context), insistently and indomitably but ultimately imperfectly. And I think that's part of why the kintsugi design drives me utterly wild, why her immortality setup is more interesting to me than, say, a mutant healing factor, or something like the characters in The Old Guard. Her history is pretty literally engraved on her skin, and when she, in the role of a power-granting artefact and the object of a ritual sacrifice, tells you she will feel every wound you inflict upon her, it is so easy to believe her. And I'm not even that invested in physical suffering, just that it means it's all still very palpably there, forever, and she doesn't get to magically restart with a clean slate in this sense, nor does she get to forget past lifetimes as some creatures like devas do. It's just a flavour of immortality I personally find far more engaging than most.

(I mean, yes, I am also a known hurt/comfort sucker and if you're going there in order to set up a scene where she's, I dunno, getting doted on by Isobel who's invented new scar tissue pain relief massage techniques, you know I'm going to be all over that.)

I'm also not sure I'd say she can just pop over to Argentil to hang out with her mum at will. I mean, planeshifting is not that hard to achieve, and also she can just… ask Selûne, ultimately, I guess. But I wouldn't say she has spent much time there, and I think she takes her role as Selûne's champion and representative in the Realms too seriously and too much to heart to be away from them for very long.

Which also calls to mind the issue of the obvious and "simple" answer to Isobel's eventual death - namely that with Isobel picked up as a petitioner soul they'll all just go live out the better part of an eternity in Selûne's realm. Probably in some form they will - it's never guaranteed, but this time, yeah, probably something like that will happen, and there will be, as Melodia says, no loss, only temporary separation. But I'm really not into just handwaving or stripping away most of the mortal/immortal pairing issues inherent in the relationship. If we're going for the "hang out in a different plane of existence forever" option, I think at one point Aylin would have to "complete" her duties and lay down her sword, in a way, and pick between Faerûn and the Gates of the Moon - meaning she herself is effectively moving on to a completely new phase of her existence as well.

And while Selûne carving a lovely marble statue and bringing it to life and similar takes are fun and beautiful and interesting, I'm very invested in an Aylin who was born, raised, and had to actually grow up and learn and be trained. I have a ton of headcanons of Aylin being a weird glowy baby at some point (with all the Disney's Hercules jokes I've seen folks make, of course), being entrusted to a series of Selûnite enclaves and temples and cloisters, hounded by Shar and her agents pretty much all her life.

(Neither here nor there, but Aylin also comes off as a fairly "young" immortal to me - note that I am basing this on absolutely nothing but a general impression and there's no actual hint anywhere about how old she really is. Just vibes.)

To finish up, I'd like to shout out Isobel, and the big humanising factor she is presented as. For instance, a very concrete bit of motivation for Aylin to eventually "humanise" her perception of time, if nothing else.

Aylin without Isobel is horribly depressing to me mostly because she seems to distance herself from her humanity and err on the side of holy duty (see: her epilogue letter, ouch). And Isobel is definitely the person who (invaluably, imo) explicitly and consistently insists on Aylin's humanity and personhood, who cares for her as a woman and not a divine weapon, who actually treats her well-being as a priority, and who understands her so very well and so deeply. Who does acknowledge the gloriously resplendent Dame Aylin, daughter of the Moonmaiden herself in all her awe-inspiring presence and occasionally amusing foibles, but who never fails to look past the titles and fronts even Aylin herself is so keen to put up, and focus on what lies behind it all.

A moment that sticks out to me in particular is her bemoaning Aylin's disregard for her own safety, then actually getting very angry if you suggest Lorroakan can't hurt Aylin:

Isobel: Even after all she's been through, she thinks herself unstoppable - invincible. It all feels like recklessness to me. Player: Lorroakan can't harm her. Have faith. Isobel: He can harm her. Just as Ketheric did. She'll survive it, but she can suffer like any of us - and for longer.

Using Isobel's words verbatim is a good conclusion to my thoughts here, I think: the truth of Aylin being "singular among us all" coexisting with all the ways Aylin is "just like any of us".

And now I'll pay the cute Aylin screenshot tax one last time.

[skeletorrito]

satosugu shower scene i wrote today uhnf 🫦

NSFW 18+

“It’s not every day we get to share a private shower,” Suguru commented quietly with a coy smile, turning the showerhead on. He pulled off his trunks, wringing them out over the bathroom drain and hanging them over the glass shower door. He begrudgingly did this with his friend’s swimsuit as well, for Satoru slipped them off in a damp heap and jumped in immediately.

“Oh, this is definitely not hot enough,” Satoru declared, a little too loudly, and Suguru shushed him. “Sorry,” he whispered apologetically, cranking the shower’s temperature. 

Suguru stepped in, hissing as burning droplets of water hit his skin. “What the hell?! Why did you make it so fucking hot?” He took up the far corner of the boxy shower, reaching out a curious hand and wincing. 

“I was cold,” Satoru replied and shrugged. He turned the dial down by barely a centimeter. “Now who’s the sensitive one…” He trailed off playfully, shivering pleasantly as he allowed the scalding water to flush his ivory skin.

Suguru’s gaze flicked up and down Satoru’s naked body with a grin. He moved in closer, pressing his cold front against the man’s warm back. Satoru inhaled sharply, jolting. 

“Thanks for warming me up,” Suguru murmured into Satoru’s neck, reaching out to adjust the water as he fought against the burning, steaming spray. (He still left it hot for Satoru, but a bit more manageable for him.) “Want me to wash your hair?” 

“Sure, can I borrow-”

“No.” 

Satoru flipped around, pouting and flashing fake teary eyes. “C’mon, I just forgot it this time...” 

Suguru crossed his arms and scowled as he replied, “You always use up my nice hair products, Satoru. Just go buy them yourself!” 

“I’m sorry, Sugu, I’ll pay you back, you know I’m good for it. I really did forget my shampoo.” Suguru could tell he was speaking candidly. Satoru’s long, wet lashes fluttered against his rosy cheeks. He looked like a porcelain doll, his glowing, crystal eyes still piercing and otherworldly even in the foggy steam of the shower. His cheeks and lips flushed bright pink in contrast to his pale, perfect skin. “Sometimes it’s just nice to smell like you…” he murmured sheepishly. 

Suguru avoided eye contact as he grumbled, blushing, “Just give me the shampoo, creep.” 

Satoru grinned widely, snatching the bottle off of the shower ledge and tossing it over. He turned his back, closing his eyes and sighing contentedly as Suguru’s fingertips started massaging his scalp. “This feels so good,” he groaned softly, “It’s kinda turning me on…” 

Suguru laughed. “Shut your mouth unless you want shampoo to get in it.” He scrubbed a little harder, eliciting a pleasant moan from Satoru. “There, wash it out.” He stepped back, watching as Satoru turned around blindly, and his gaze immediately fixed on the man’s stiff cock. “Oh,” he started, amusedly, “You weren’t even kidding, you pervert.” He bit his lip, curious fingers reaching out and teasing. 

Satoru sucked in a breath as he finished rinsing the suds, leaning into the touch as Suguru slowly stroked him. “Who’re you calling a pervert? I’m just washing my hair over here, minding my own…”  He opened his eyes, surprised to find a wet, seductively coy-looking Suguru on his knees, cock in hand. “...business.” His lips parted, mouth suddenly dry despite the water trickling down them.  

Suguru locked eyes with him silently, putting a finger to his lips in warning before taking Satoru into his mouth. He closed his eyes as he licked and sucked hungrily, trickles of water dripping onto his face as he did. Satoru moaned into his fist, his other hand finding its way to the back of Suguru’s head and grabbing a fistful of damp, salty hair. 

Satoru guided him deeper and deeper without complaint until he was nearly swallowed whole, eyes rolling back and blessing the higher powers of the universe for Suguru’s nonexistent gag reflex. A tongue lashed to graze the head of his cock as Suguru’s hands reached around to squeeze Satoru’s tight ass. His curious fingers slipped between cheeks teasingly, a gentle press to his entrance but nothing more. Satoru released a surprised gasp, tensing as a spike of nervous, excited adrenaline rushed over him.

Satoru stifled a groan, pleasure choking him, arresting his chest, his stomach, his aching arousal. It took everything in him not to moan or sob, both (probably, both). He fucked Suguru’s mouth with quaking thighs, burying himself into his hot throat and pulling away only to be pressed into calloused fingers. 

He was always a quick shot, and being exhausted and anxious didn’t help the matter.

Satoru bit into his knuckle with a choked cry, eyes watering as he pushed onto Suguru’s head and suddenly spilled into his mouth. Knees growing weak, he anchored himself against the cool tile wall with heavy breaths. His fingers fell from Suguru’s hair and to his side. 

Suguru swallowed, unfazed, and licked his lips with a wicked smile. He rose from his knees, putting his shampoo bottle in Satoru’s hands. “Your turn, right?”

Satoru grinned and bit his lip, catching a big breath as he straightened up. “You’re dangerous, y’know?” 

Suguru turned his back to soak his damp beach waves in the shower stream, gazing over his shoulder momentarily as he replied, “I know.”

yayayay thank you for reading 💕

I think I'm nearing the end of this chap? hehe we'll see 😈

here's a link to my other works:

[mishapocalyse]

When We Were Young || Part Two

->Anon asked: Reader was in love with Ben before he became soldier boy like as kids and then grew old watching him become and asshole and then “die” and imagines what their life could have been (would be heartbreaking to read but hey let’s get emotional)

Description: The fond memories of growing up with Benjamin Gilman, the man who eventually became America's Greatest Superhero, become a thing of the past. Yet when the reader meets him again...what will happen?

Pairings: Soldier Boy x (Eventual Supe) Reader.

Warnings: Soldier Boy is his own warning, language, sexual content.

Note: I twisted the request a bit and made the reader a supe. This is still the most devastating piece I think I have ever written. This is part two. ITS BEEN 2 YEARS GUYS AND I FINALLY WROTE THE PART 2!!!! Please read at your own risk.

It could have been anyone…

Anyone but him.

“Y/N…” Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared up at none other then the man who you thought was dead. It had been twenty-nine years since Ben’s death, and here he was, standing in front of you.

“Y/N….you…you haven’t aged a bit—”

SLAP.

A harsh slap against his cheek knocked both of you to your senses.

“I thought you were dead!" You hollered, voice cracking through heavy tears, standing in front of the soldier, who only seemed to smile. "Well...I'm here, aren't I?" He laughed, outstretching his arms for you to come in to. Yet, you pointed your finger, stepping back, your feet hitting the edge of another tombstone.

You clenched your fists, your whole body trembling as you pointed your finger and refused to let him embrace you.

"Why are you here now?" Tears welled up in your eyes as you glared at him.

The smile on his face slowly disappeared, and he looked at you with uncertainty and regret.

"I know I'm late, but I wanted to see you again," he said apologetically.

You shook your head, the tears now streaming down your face.

"You should have come back alive! Why are you only here now?"

Ben looked down, his shoulders sunk, guilt creeping onto his features.

"I didn't want to leave you like that…but I had no choice…I didn't think I'd come back like this…I'm sorry."

You looked at him, the tears still overflowing from your eyes.

"Sorry isn't enough…it's been twenty years…why are you just here now? You didn't come to me for all these years!"

Ben looked at you, regret etched on his features.

"I wanted to, I really did…but I couldn't…I'm sorry…I'm here now, though…"

He stretched his arms out again, hoping to embrace you, but you only shook your head and took another step back.

He looked at you helplessly, his arms still outstretched.

"How can I make it up to you?" He asked, desperation in his voice.

"I can't just forgive you because you just came back now," you snapped, your voice shaking with emotion.

"You left me…alone!" You sobbed, the anger; the sadness etching your still youthful features. "I watched the world change without you…"

Ben remained silent, his expression growing more somber as you scolded him.

"You died, Ben. You were supposed to stay dead. You remembered what I told you on the balcony that night…Herogasm…Do you remember?"

You wiped your teary face, feeling frustrated and devastated as you looked at him.

Ben looked at you, his expression full of guilt.

"I remember…I remember everything you said that night…I can't forget…"

"Our fairytale, what we had was over…you left a whole world behind because you were too full of yourself to see who was always there for you…" You began, your sobs and tears still evident on your face. "Twenty-nine years," You repeated. "It's been twenty-nine years…"

Ben stood there, his expression full of guilt as you spoke.

"I know…I'm sorry…I shouldn't have let my ego get in the way," Ben's voice was heavy with regret, his shoulders sinking lower.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, but you couldn't stop the tears from trickling down your face.

"How can I make you forgive me?" He sounded genuinely unsure, feeling helpless as he looked at you crying while his arms were still outstretched, eager to embrace you.

"I-I'll do anything…I just…I just want you to forgive me…"

Seeing him so earnest and apologetic made your heart ache more. You could see the regret and guilt on his face, but something still made you hesitate to embrace him.

"Anything? You'll do anything?"

"Yes." He quickly nodded, desperate for a chance to make up for his mistakes.

"No matter what you ask, I'll do it," he said firmly, his expression sincere.

"I want…you…to leave." You said without thinking. "Leave, act like you never saw me."

Ben's eyes widened, his expression suddenly filled with shock and heartbreak.

"What? Y-you want me to just leave?"

He looked at you, disbelief and sadness evident in his eyes.

"You want me to just pretend like I never saw you?"

The words hit his chest hard and left him speechless.

"Soldier Boy…Ben…there were people looking for you…I had hopes that you'd come back for me, realize what we had was real. However…you never did. And the first thing you thought to do was show up two decades later thinking I would welcome you back with open arms?" You took a breath, trying to regain your composure. "Do us both a favor, and leave. I think I've had enough heartbreak for the rest of my lifetime."

Ben stared at you, his eyes full of sadness and regret.

"…So, that's it then?" He asked, his voice quiet and solemn.

He looked at you, hoping for even a glimmer of hope…but you remained resolute, staring back at him firmly.

"…You want me to leave. Act like I never existed…right?"

"That's what you've apparently done the last two decades…" You spat.

Ben's expression darkened, realizing he had no room to retort.

He looked down, his shoulders sunken as he stood there, deep in thought for a moment.

"Just tell me one thing," he started, his tone heavy with emotions.

"Did you move on? From me?" He looked away from you, not daring to look you in the eyes, fiddling with his fingers and the fur on his jean jacket. You were silent, whether or not you did move on, the question hung loosely in the air.

"I never did." You whispered, through lidded eyes. "No matter who caught my eye, or approached me over the years. I never slept with anyone, never married, nothing." You turned away from him. It was just like the night he left you...all those years ago.

"I ran after that truck, wanting so badly to tell you I loved you, I wrote letters everyday with no response. I kept your picture on my bedside table, hoping you'd knock on my door. Hoping you would come home. Instead I get a folded up flag, and years of waiting. Life wasted on the one thing I thought would be my eternity." You poked his chest hard with your finger.

Ben grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to at least grab your attention.

"I'm real. I'm here."

You shook your head, feeling your chest tighten, the heartache still too raw to forgive him so easily.

He continued holding your hand firmly in his, his expression pleading as he looked at you.

"I'm here now. What we had doesn't have to be wasted. We can start anew," he tried to reason.

The way he held your hand and pleaded with you, his eyes desperately seeking forgiveness, made your heart waver.

He looked so sincere and apologetic, but you were still unsure.

"How do I know you won't disappear again?" You asked, your voice shaking with lingering emotions.

"I won't, I promise. I won't disappear again," he replied, his voice sincere and urgent.

He held your hand tighter, almost as if he was willing to do anything just to please you.

He looked at you pleadingly, with full regret in his eyes.

"Please give me another chance. Please…I'll prove to you I won't disappear, just please give me another chance," You looked down at the thick snow underneath your feet. The cold was something that made you feel alive, you weren't sure of yourself. But something in your chest forgave him, just this once.

Ben waited in anticipation as you looked down, hoping, waiting, pleading mentally.

When your eyes returned to his, he looked at you expectantly, hoping to see any hint of forgiveness.

His heart raced, hoping you had spared him this chance.

He looked sincere, but you still felt uncertain. Will he really not disappear, or was it another lie?

"I love you, Ben." You choked.

Ben's eyes widened, his whole body relaxed as he heard your words.

He had feared the worst, but never knew how much meaning your words held.

"You do? You forgive me?" He felt his emotions overwhelm him, and his eyes began to shimmer.

"You still love me?" His voice trembled with emotion.

"I've always…love you Ben Gilman."

Ben's chest swelled, his heart full of emotions.

Upon hearing you say those words, his heart felt lighter, but still, tears welled up in his eyes and threatened to spill.

He stepped forward and hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, wanting to pull you into a tight embrace. You pressed your lips against his, a feeling like no other. He tasted like iron, smelled like soot and blood, and felt like heaven.

Ben wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you against himself, feeling your body against his.

He held you close, feeling your lips press against his.

For a moment the cold seemed to melt away, and the past 29 years seemed to fade into nothing.

The only thing that mattered was Ben having you in his arms again. It felt like the old days.

Of when you were both young.

[weirdsht]

Heya!! Can I request a tcf x reader fic from where the reader is teenager and got teleported there? Somehow they can see the dreams of the future and knew about tcf novel while also being a full on simp for the main characters?(But also the thing that the young reader was someone who has been to various worlds and was in a loop, repeating things but without the memory of them doing so each time. They get glimpses ofcourse but it was just their past self trying to give out signals to not repeat any mistakes)

Definitions - Cale & Teen! Reader

notes: sorry anon i couldn't reflect all of your ideas because i found some of them hard to combine when i started writing. also this plot is better suited for a long fic/series but i don't have that time and energy huhu

tags: gender-neutral reader, mentions of death and dying (can be a little graphic but nothing too bad), teenager reader, nightmares

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome (for a limited time)

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Navigation Masterlist

“You should be more careful, this is uncharted territory.”

The look-a-like caressed your face softly as they spoke. Eyes filled with concern and uncertainty bore into you.

You may look alike but there’s something different about them.

Maybe it’s their mature aura. Perhaps it could be the tired look in their eyes. As though they have been suffering for eternity and want everything to end.

Whether they long for peace or eternal rest even you do not know.

“Still… this is a good opportunity and something we haven’t tried yet. Maybe you’ll be safer under his watch.”

“What do you mean by that? Who are you?”

You spoke for the first time since being transported in this weird abyss.

Being transmigrated into a novel like a lousy isekai protagonist was already confusing, but now you have to add weird dreams on top of that.

However, it beats trying to survive in that place you used to call home.

Between being endlessly confused and going back there… you’d choose the former any time of the day.

“I am you, well a part of you at least. As for what I mean… let’s just say this is for your own good.”

The supposed “you” paused briefly as they rested their hand on their chin. Probably thinking about how much they can disclose. Once they made up their mind their fingers caressed your head.

You may not know what’s happening, but you can tell they’re trying to provide comfort.

And it’s probably for the arduous path waiting beyond this dream.

“We’ve been through this many times, and each time you forget… I do not know if god has forsaken us or is playing a cruel joke…”

The look-a-like sighed before hugging you tightly. You meant to reciprocate, however, before you could raise your arms a sharp pain went through your neck.

“AGH! IT HURTS!”

It really does. It feels as though someone’s digging a knife through your neck, Trying to separate your head from your body.

When you manage to come back to your senses the other you are gone. The only thing left in the abyss is your and your throbbing neck.

…And wouldn’t you know, the moment you looked at your hands that were previously clutching your neck… all you could see was blood.

“-[me]”

“-[me]!”

“[Name]!”

“[Name] wake up!”

You jolt up as the familiar voice wakes you up from your dream. That’s right, you are currently under Cale Henituse’s wing after being transmigrated inside the novel you were reading. You have momentarily forgotten such a fact.

Clutching your throbbing neck, you tried to look at the redhead through your tears. Not that you are succeeding at the moment. However, you think you could see a slightly startled look on the young master’s usually calm face.

“Young master..?”

You asked, unsure of everything as your mind is still hazy. Still trying to get out of dreamland.

“You were screaming and crying in your sleep.”

Cale stated calmly as if he wasn’t panicking a minute ago. Still, his eyes roamed around you several times to double-check if there was anything wrong.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The redhead asks as he gently wipes your tears and pry your hands away from your neck.

“I’m sorry young master. I don’t think I can for I don’t remember the contents of my dream… All I could remember was that there was a searing pain in my neck. It-it felt so real. As though I was in the middle of the battlefield and someone was sawing their sword back-and-forth on my neck…”

You tried to explain to the best of your abilities. You didn’t want to lie to the man that you considered your saviour.

Both when you were reading the novel and when you transmigrated.

In every form, fictional character or not, Cale Henituse has always been your saviour in one way or another. And thus you hold deep respect for the man.

“Don’t push yourself. Sometimes forgetting and never remembering is better than being reminded constantly.”

Ah, he must be referring to his record ability. A blessing and a curse indeed…

“Still, if you feel unwell or anything come to me. I took a kid like you in so I must take responsibility for you till the very end.”

Cale Henituse probably doesn’t know the impact of his words. Just how much you have longed to hear such things.

No, perhaps he does. Perhaps more than anyone, Kim Rok Soo has been the one longing to hear those words since he was a child.

“I’ll keep that in mind…”

With that, Cale stepped out for a moment to ask a servant to fetch a glass of warm milk. After doing so he returned to your side, sitting on the side of your bed. He looks unwilling to leave you, despite having three younger children waiting for him in his bedroom.

“Don’t hold back, have you seen me holding back from doing and saying whatever I want? You don’t have to push yourself to act like a grownup around me. I’m the adult, those things are for me to bear.”

Cale’s words suddenly found their way to your memory when you were about to urge him to go back to On, Hong, and Raon. That combined with the redhead’s determined gaze to not leave your side has you clamping your mouth shut.

Soon enough a maid delivered the glass of milk to your room and you drank it to your heart’s content. Then the morning after that you could feel the children averaging 7 years old sleeping beside you.

The weeks following that are peaceful. Well as peaceful as Cale’s life could get at least. Not that it says much since he has the tendency to meddle in things that will only jeopardize his slacker life.

Despite that, your days are looking better. After that night you didn’t seem to experience excruciating nightmares anymore. You also seemed to have opened up to the rest of the crew.

Perhaps that’s why Cale became complacent, causing him to lower his guard.

And perhaps that’s also why his face hardens 10x more than it would have weeks ago. His anger soars through the sky, reaching the gods even, as he hears the heartbroken sobs you utter on your lips after waking up from a nightmare.

“Am I such a bad child for the gods to do this to me? Have they forsaken me? What did I do that was so wrong that warrants this kind of suffering?”

You sobbed on the young’s master chest. You look so out of it. Eyes glazed over as if you’re not with Cale despite being in his embrace. You continued to wail, continued to curse the world for putting you in a type of pain that not even Cale can comprehend.

“I’m tired, I’m so tired. How many times has it been? I’ve tried my best… I always did, but I don’t know what the gods want.”

As you looked up at the ceiling, perhaps trying to directly ask the gods, Cale could finally clearly see your eyes.

They were filled with pain and suffering. Such young eyes carry the weight of the world.

It did not belong to the teen who was laughing and playing around with the kids and Choi Han.

It was still you, but it wasn’t the you that Cale is currently raising.

The meddlesome transmigrator couldn’t understand it himself, but he was sure of this feeling that he had about you.

Hence why when you finally passed out he immediately ordered someone to summon Cage and Saint Jack.

Cale Henituse might be a piece of trash but he always sees through his promises.

Even if he has to fight every god out there to fulfil it.

Because for Cale Henituse, that’s what it means to be a guardian.

[stonebutchstories]

Tell Me More

Stone butch submissive top/ Dom butch bottom

Mathilda and Annie have been seeing each other for a while, but Annie has yet to make Mathilda cum. Since she’s never been with a stone before, Annie decides wants to learn about stone pleasure, specifically HER stone’s pleasure, and discover the kind of touch that does the trick.

Cw: penetration with fingers, oral stimulation, degradation, dominance, use of titles (sir/puppy), sexual language, overstimulation

“What are you thinking about?” I ask. Annie looks distant, staring out the second story window at the intersection below. This late at night, I know the streets get dead, so she must just be staring at empty asphalt. She’s been lost in thought the past few times I came over, and I’m starting to worry.

“Hm? Nothing.” She comes to sit next to me on my bed. I’m lying down, relaxing in between rounds. We’ve been at it like rabbits since that campfire, and I always end up taking a breather. I card a hand through her hair.

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me, I wanna know! what have you been thinking about?”

She scoots in beside me, curling herself against my chest. She slipped back into her clothes for a smoke a few minutes ago, and, of course, I never got out of mine. Our hoodie strings tangle together. She smells like Mavericks.

“Just-“ she chews her bottom lip. “Worrying.”

“Why?” I draw her head in closer to my chest, stroking her hair. She has such soft hair, and it calms the both of us.

“I feel like you don’t… like this. As much as me, anyway.”

My brow furrows. “Why would you think that?”

She shrugs. “I dunno, you just don’t… I don’t know.” She rubs her forehead. “Maybe I just don’t understand how you… work?”

“I’m not following.”

“I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever made you cum.” She looks to the side, a little ashamed.

It’s a fair assessment, I haven’t cum during our hookups yet. But that means something totally different to me than it would to someone else.

“Oh, that’s not a big deal! I don’t cum with partners very often. It’s sort of part of the whole stone thing, y’know? It doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying it.”

“I guess, I only have my own frame of reference. If I had been dating someone as long as we-“

My eyes go wide.

“I mean. Seeing. Seeing someone.”

“Right. Right.” I smirk.

Annie’s been insisting we aren’t dating, but she lets it slip every so often. I wonder what she tells our friends about this relationship. I wonder if she uses that word when I’m not there. She may act like she’s too cool for romance, but late at night when I get up to go to the bathroom, she grabs my hand half asleep and says, ‘baby love, please stay.’ It feels decidedly non-platonic. I guess butches have to protect our hearts, but I’m dedicated to finding my way in, however long that takes me.

She clears her throat. “If I’d been seeing someone as long as you have and they never made me cum, I’d probably… I dunno, think less of them.”

“Oh, so, you’re just worried it reflects on you?”

She shrugs.

“Well, that’s a relief. I was worried you were gonna say you found me less attractive because I’m stone.” I kiss the top of her head and sigh. It really is a huge relief.

“What, do people say that?”

I prop myself up on my elbow. “Oh, yes. Very often. I’ve been dumped for being stone more times than I can count.”

“That really sucks, baby. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t dump you like that.” She kisses me on the cheek.

“Well, you couldn’t.” I smirk.

She looks quizzically at me, then it hits her. “Right, because we’re not- right. Got it.”

“Keep forgetting, huh?”

She rolls her eyes and shoves me. “Fuck you, I’m trying to go slow!”

I squeeze her waist tight to me. “Oh, but you just can’t HELP wanting to U-haul with me, you silly lesbo lover boy, you!” I ruffle her hair and she sighs contentedly. “Look at it this way- you’re absolutely my dream butch. I enjoy sex with you more than I’ve ever enjoyed sex with anyone else in my life. I just don’t cum easily. Not your fault. Nobody’s fault, really. And it doesn’t mean I don’t love having sex with you.”

She thinks for a minute. “But… do you want to?”

“What?”

“You said it’s hard to cum, not that you don’t want to. Do you want to, and I’m just not good at making you feel good enough to?”

“I-“ I stutter. I don’t really think of it that way. “I dunno. I guess I’ve never… I mean, I barely ever came even with other people. I got good at faking it though, once I knew they’d break up with me otherwise.”

She holds my face in her palms. “I don’t want you to fake it. I want you to feel good. If that doesn’t include cumming, that’s fine. If it does, though, I want to know how to do it. And just in general, I want to do things that bring you pleasure at whatever level you’re able to feel it.”

I pause. “I don’t know. You make me cum when I’m by myself pretty often.”

“By yourself?”

I look to the side, embarrassed. “When I’m touching myself, I cum from thinking about you.”

Her breath hitches and she tugs me in closer. “What have you been thinking about, puppy?” The change of name strikes me in my gut. We’re revving up, now.

I squirm. “You.”

“What about me?”

She sits up into my lap and I lean towards her, posture just like the night we first kissed. The memory of it tugs at my heartstrings and makes me throb in the same breath. She weaves the bridges of our noses together, gazing down at my lips. I know she’s thinking about kissing me, but I don’t have permission to lean in on her behalf. I can feel her breath on the nerves of my lower lip. I steel myself.

“How my fingers would feel inside you.”

“Oh?” She leans back, tugging my right arm into her hands. “How would it feel?”

“Um.” I stammer. “Really good.” I’m not as natural at this kind of talk as Annie, but I have my ideas.

“Yeah? You sensitive in your hands?”

I nod. “Very.“

She exhales her question, one eyebrow quirked. I can tell she’s thought of something. “Are you-“ she draws my right hand up parallel to her eyes, holding on by my wrist. “-Ok with this kind of touching?”

My heart hammers in my chest. I nod.

The corners of her mouth twitch up subtly, not giving me the satisfaction of a smile. Annie keeps holding my wrist still with her right hand, but traces with her left pointer from my elbow to my palm. She presses and splays my fingers apart with her own.

“Do you ever cum from the stuff you do? Like, from stuff that isn’t direct?”

I swallow. “You mean my strap?”

Annie lowers my wrist to lean into me closer. She drags her nose up the crook of my neck, chuckling.

“I mean your hands. Can you cum from your hands?”

I shiver. “I- I dunno. I haven’t tried.”

“Tried?”

I stammer. “Yeah, um. Cumming from stone stuff is different. It doesn’t just happen on accident. You have to be immersed, I guess.”

“Immersed.” She hums. Her lips graze the shell of my ear. “What does it feel like? Being immersed?”

I feel myself throb. Like that, I wish I could say.

“I have to go slower, but it feels really good. I focus on the touch and somehow I can move the place I feel it. Then it’s like my hand is - mmh-“ Annie is dragging her bottom teeth against my earlobe, firmness making me squirm.

She pauses when I stop speaking.

“Go on, puppy.”

“S-sorry. It makes it feel like my hand is my strap. Or, my dick. It’s all one feeling. And that can make me cum.”

She pulls away. “So, if I touch you like this-“ she drags a finger against my heart line, tracing the deep creases of my palm. My breath hitches, just enough to be noticed, but subtle enough that it’s clear I’m not faking.

“Wow.” Annie’s tonguing her molars, eyes alive with thrill. “That’s what you like, huh puppy?”

My eyes fall to the side. “Yeah.”

“Oh, baby, I don’t mean to embarrass you.” She pauses. “Well, that’s not entirely true. But I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m just…” Annie touches between the pads of my pointer finger, featherlight and ticklish. I startle in my seat and suppress a moan. “Fascinated. I’ve never been with a stone before. Your body works in such interesting ways.”

I try to laugh. “I don’t know if I’m a good barometer for the standard stone experience.”

“Mmm, I don’t imagine you are. Not that that’s bad.” She traces the pad of her middle finger up my forearm.

“Palms up.” My hands tremble as I right them. Annie sighs. “Oh, very good, puppy.”

I bite back a whine. Annie traces the lengths of my forearms, stopping before the sensitive tendons on my wrist. My thighs tense and relax in a way that makes her bounce on my packer. Every feeling she gives me is a good one. She taps gently and works up and down, making the hairs there stand on end. “How is that?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and chuckle. “Hah. That’s- it’s stupidly good.”

She hums. “You’re so easy to work up.” Annie leans in and kisses my neck softly. My knees part on their own, letting her hips sink down further into my bulge. “Do you like being easy? Does it turn you on to be such a whore?”

“Annie, please.”

“Tell me more about how I’d make your fingers feel. When you’re inside.” As she speaks she brushes up the length of my pointer and ring fingers. Her touch travels up the nerves, along the veins. Proximal, middle, distal. One and then the next. With my eyes closed, I feel it in my cock.

“I don’t know how to describe it, it’s um. It’s soft. You-“ I pant. “You like to talk a lot. And make me talk.”

Annie hums, patting smooth my lapels. “Keeps us where were supposed to be. Do you not like it?”

“I don’t mind it, I just sound stupid when I try to talk dirty.”

Annie smiles into my skin. “Yeah, kinda. You ever consider that’s what I like about it? Hearing you mindlessly stumble over your words, trying to explain how good it feels to be fucking me?”

She rocks herself down into my hips. I want my hands inside her so badly.

“It’s soft.” I offer my best.

She draws my wrists towards her mouth, leaning in close. I can feel the heat of her cheek in my skin, and she parts her lips to whisper into the flat of my palm.

“Soft?” Her sibilance resonates across the nerves of my hand. I can feel the warmth of her breath. I gasp and pant.

“And warm.”

“Mmm.” She drags her lower lip up my heart line, breathing into me. Her teeth don’t touch my skin, but I’m orbited by my awareness of them, and of the soft wet fullness of her lips dragging up my splayed palm- fuck, she is so hot. “How warm?”

“Like, I can feel the blood rushing to it. And I can feel your pulse getting faster in it, too.”

“Faster where?” I can see the fingers of Annie’s free hand stroking over the fly if her jeans. “Here?”

I bite my lip. Her ring finger makes slow circles.

“Do those words embarrass you, puppy? I want to hear you say them.” I can feel the tip of her nose drag down my open palm as she speaks, hot breath continuously alarming the sensitive nerves in my hands.

I stumble in my confidence. Part of it is that there are a lot of words to use, and butches are always particular. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and upset Annie. And also, maybe she’s right, I’m a little embarrassed to say this out loud. But it is an exercise in her control- she puts fingers and objects and gags in my mouth as she sees fit, so why not a word too? She returns my attention to her movement, pressing a breath into the crease of my ring and pointer fingers.

“Which words would you like me to use?”

She traces the horseshoe of my jawline back and forth, scratching the patchy hairs on my chin. “Funny boy. I know you like the taste of cunt in your mouth. Say it. Where do you feel my pulse?”

I swallow. “I- like feeling your pulse in your cunt, sir.”

She tuts and shakes her head. “I don’t know here you keep getting this ‘Sir’ thing from, but it’s growing on me. I don’t know if I’d have more fun letting you say it or trying to break your habit.”

I whine and tilt back my head. Motherfuck.

She takes my diverted attention as a chance to drag her tongue up my forearm. Neither of us expects my reaction to be so intense. I nearly buck her off my lap. The shock of it overwhelms me, and I feel all the muscles in my body contract and glitter with tactile aftershocks. I moan so hard it comes out as almost a scream. She shushes me reassuringly and I try to pant my way back down to even breath. My hips buck into her in arhythmatic pathetic thrusts.

“Aww, puppy, too much? Is it too sensitive?”

It kind of is, but I don’t want her to stop. I wrap my free arm feebly around her waist.

“Jesus Christ.” I sob, pressing my forehead into hers.

“Did I hurt you? It kinda of sounded like it hurt.” She wipes tears from my cheek that I hadn’t noticed falling.

I shake my head, sweat plastering us together. My breathing has returned enough to string together a semblance of a sentence.

“Just- feels so. Fucking. Much.” I heave. “ ‘needa minute.”

“Aww.” She scratches my shaved sides affectionately. “You’re so sensitive, it’s adorable, puppy.” She caresses my face in her hands.

I lean the two of us back on the bed, my ab strength stuttering as we lower. I can feel the corners of the room tilting us in all directions. Sometimes, when it’s really good, I get this kind of vertigo, but it’s never happened from just touch like this. She lies down on my chest, stroking my hair.

We take a little break, and Annie does her best only to touch me where I have clothes on. Just my skin on hers feels a little too electric, and every time she brushes up against my arms by mistake my whole body contracts and I bury my face into her collarbone.

“Hah. Sorry.” I chuckle embarrassedly when my thoughts start to return.

“No, baby, I just wanna make sure you feel good. You don’t have to be sorry.” She kisses me on the cheek, just under my eye, and wraps her arms around me.

I sigh, still a little floaty, but not so overwhelmed.

“Can I- um. Have some more?” I feel my face go flush, and I extend my hand towards her mouth. She eyes me up and down and grins deviously.

“Say ‘please, sir.’”

I clear my throat. “Please, sir. Can I h-“

Annie cackles. “Oh my god. You actually said it. You little homosexual Oliver Twist.” She punctuates each sentence with a deep tongue kiss.

I get even redder, somehow. I wrap an arm under Annie’s waist and flip her under me, kissing back even harder and laughing. “Oh, fuck you. You made me so horny I forgot about Oliver Twist.”

“Who could forget! Who could forget that tragic little orphan twink?”

I swallow her laughter with our tongues and mouths pressed close together, and feel it kindling the fire between us. She crosses her ankles over my back and tugs me in, switching off between giggles and moans. I feel so soft and silly and sweet with Annie- vulnerable in a way I’ve never been able to be before. Being butch is sometimes a matter of projecting a persona. Only she has ever made me feel safe to drop that persona, and put the trust of my life and my body in her hands. For some reason, the fact that she doesn’t take that deathly seriously makes me feel at ease. We can be lighthearted and funny. We can take breaks when it’s too much. I love being here with her and letting her take the reins, knowing full well she’ll only ever lead me where we both can feel free and fulfilled. She pulls away, hips still gyrating into me as she speaks.

“I can’t lie, puppy, it really turns me on that I can fuck you so hard you cry.” She smiles darkly.

I bite my lip. “Mmh. Me too.”

“And I think I like this, if this is how I make you cum. We can definitely do this more often.”

I throb. “I’d like that, sir.”

Annie doesn’t correct me. She takes my hand in hers, gently, looking to me for approval. I nod, and she returns to her work, exhaling hot breath up and down my forearm where her wet tongue left a mark.

“Mm- I want you inside, puppy. I wanna make you cum while you’re inside.” She whispers in a sultry voice as her mouth travels up my forearm.

“Fuck. Fuck, I wanna cum inside you, too. Please.”

She presses the flat of her tongue at my wrist, just to feel my body bear down into hers. As my muscles tense and thighs clench, I feel her hips rutting into me.

“You get so- so worked up when I touch you.” She’s stammering her way through moans, speaking into the skin of my hand as she licks and sucks it. “Do you even realize you’re grinding your cock against me?”

“Annie.” I grip her waist hard into mine, rocking my hips back and forth. “Let me. Please.”

“I bet you don’t. I bet you’re too empty and horny from being touched, and you can’t even tell how good you’re fucking me.” She’s right. I’m so fucking empty and I don’t care how my body moves or voice trembles, I want my fingers inside of her. I wanna cum. I wanna make her mine.

She keeps on task, half-praising-half-mocking me even as my hips grind into hers faster and faster. I start to find a rhythm with my thrusts, imagining I was lining up my oversensitive fingers with her dripping cunt, breaching her one at a time and feeling that hot tightness surrounding each nerve. I could feel her pulse, her wetness, her softness, everything I love. The way her body contracts around mine. She’d murmur instructions in my ear, telling me I’m a good worthless little puppy boy. How I’m hers. How my hips would press my own wrist further and further in, back of my hand and front of my packer between us for me to helplessly rut against. God, I would cum in her so deep.

She coils a hand through my hair, tugging my head up to inspect it. I let her observe her full of me, sweating, stammering, and moaning. Brows knit as I concentrate on holding back my orgasm. I have to wait. I need to feel her inside. I have to feel it.

“Please.” I barely make a sound, shaking from exertion.

She roughly grabs my wrist, ignoring the hypersensitivity and licks up my palm with the broad end of her tongue.

My body reacts explosively. I sob and moan, legs clenching together and trembling fiercely. She was smart to grab my wrist so roughly, because my body tries to retract it away on its own, trying desperately to restrain myself from cumming. She keeps going, as my fingers seize and curl, sucking and flicking her tongue over my pointer and ring fingers. In this backwards stone way that only we understand, she’s go giving me head. And I can barely hold on as she edges me.

“Oh, god- oh, god, Annie- Fuck-“ I stammer. My abdominal muscles are contracting so tightly it feels like they’re going to pop. I can feel my boxers getting soaked through, my soft packer sliding up and down the length of me with each stuttering thrust.

She pauses, voice breathy and deep. “Getting your cock nice and wet for me. You ready?”

I can’t even answer with words, and I don’t try. I just moan for her.

“Go ahead, then.” She yanks me by the hair close to her, face to face. She revels in the tears and the flush and the panting. “Fuck me.”

I throw myself from her grasp and yank her by the belt loops ferociously to meet our waists. I cant wait any more, I have to fuck her. And I have my instructions now. I waste no time taking her jeans and boxers off and sliding my fingers in.

I growl when I’m all the way in. It feels like I’ve been imagining, like I’ve begged to get the chance to feel. God. Annie is so good. I press my hand further with my waist, the way I learned to fuck with my hips before I got a strap. It feels basic, primal- the kind of fucking you do when you weren’t planning and packing. The kind of fucking you do when harness be damned, you need to be inside her. Her cunt makes a squelching noise as her back arches completely off the bed. Sometimes it’s nice to see your sexy dom top butch at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the sensation you give. Pride in that look overwhelms me. I know I’m fucking her good, so I fuck harder.

“O-oh my god-“ she grabs my belt loops, pulling me as deep as my hands can possibly go. I curl my fingers gently against her g spot and her mouth flies open. She gasps so beautifully. For as much as she likes to whisper dirty talk into my ear, when I’m fucking her she just wants to moan.

I plant myself face first into her dripping needy cunt, because it’s not enough to just touch her. I need to taste and feel and hear her too. I need to be overwhelmed by the sensation of her.

“Fuck- Mattie-“

She never uses my name. I kind of love it. I pull her down further on my fingers by her shoulder. I may be a bottom, but I spent enough years stone topping to be incredibly gifted in this arena.

She whines and moans. “God, you’re fucking me so good, yes- yes-“ she wraps an arm around the base of my wrist and pumps it up and down, stroking my sensitive forearm in a way that makes my brain short circuit. With focus I can change where I feel sensation in my body, but I have no focus right now. I feel it fucking everywhere. Every nerve in my body is a s tender and electric as my cock right now, and the way she grabs me, pulls me, coats my tongue, clenches down on me- it all feels like I’m being fucked.

I flutter my two fingers, the tip of my ring finger grazing the back of her cervix. God, I’m in so fucking deep. She pulls my hair and whines.

“God, yes- fuck-“

I suck on her clit hard, tasting that tart and almost metallic wetness dripping from her. It tastes different from the rest of her cunt, tastes like getting closer and closer. Fuck, I get lost in the feeling of her on my mouth, now, too. A little stiff and so velvety and soft, she wants it so bad. Her thighs clamp against the sides of my head, smooth soft hairs brushing my neck and shoulders. Every nerve in my body is alive. I can feel it all. The room spins faster ever second.

“Fuck- baby- Ah-“ She pants, voice high and breathy in that way she only is when she’s at her limit. God she sounds so fucking hot.

I press my forehead into her soft belly, feeling the thump of my fingers inside her and the wetness drip from my mouth. “I’m gonna cum inside you baby.”

She goes rhapsodic, screaming please-please-please as she throws back her head and thrashes her spent body around me. I brace down against her hard, feeling her walls contract and throb as her orgasm overtakes her. Fuck. Fuck-

I wrap my arm around her back and pull her even further into me. I need to cum inside her so fucking deep. Oh my god. My body trembles. I’m full of electricity. My body is glittering at every touch and noise and- fuck. My hips and my packer and my fingers and my mouth, all of it cums at once.

The room is all the way upside down when I hear her voice again, gently cooing “Breathe, puppy.”

I try, unaware I had stopped. I’m gulping down shallow breaths of cool air. When did the room get so cold? Why is it spinning around the axis of the beautiful, wonderful butch who just made cum so hard I cried?

Annie is stroking my hair. I had finished with my face down at her hips, so I look up at her from where I’m lying.

“Hi.” She smiles. “You okay?”

I give a limp thumbs up. I’m still passed out on her bare skin, but way too out of it to move on my own. She drips off my chin.

She scratches my cropped hair just behind my ear. “You’re so cute. You get so stupid when you cum.”

“Uh-uh” I shake my head, bonking her bare thigh. “M’ stupid before I cum, too.”

Annie laughs, dragging my towards her for lots of little kisses. I flip myself over onto my back. I prefer my partner to be lying on me, the pressure of their body just feels nice that way. She snakes our legs together.

“You’re so haaandsome. You got cum all over you but you’re still so haaaaansome.” She nuzzles her forehead into my shoulder. Such a sap, this guy. Would never have guessed from all the academic posturing and tough butch persona.

I roll my eyes. I’ve never been good at taking compliments. “You too.”

“Hey, um. Matt.” She hides the bottom of her face in our mess of arms and hair and body.

“Hmm?”

“Can we be dating now?” She looks away, embarrassed.

“Aw, we’re you waiting to make me cum to ask me?” I kiss the bridge of her nose. “We have been. I was waiting for you to notice.”

She buries her face completely in my chest. “So are you my boyfriend, then?”

“Woah! Whatever happened to taking it slow? That skips like, two steps in one!” I kiss her forehead, grinning.

“I meant what word do you prefer.”

“Still, though. That’s a bigger commitment than dating.”

“Well maybe I’m tired of not being committed to you. Maybe I just like you a whole stupid lot. And I want you to be my girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or partner I guess. As long as you’re not anybody else’s.”

“Boyfriend.” I smile. “Boyfriend works for me.”

We fall asleep there, and when I get up later in the night she doesn’t have to pretend to be asleep when’s he says ‘baby love, please stay.’ And so I stay.

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

They can clearly see my straw man corporation is not for profit.

All my funds go toward buying my children shit they don't necessarily need, but I try to do better for them then I was done for.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

 He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!

[fairy-angel222]

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐀𝐖 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—telling the jjk men to forget about the condom.

ft. 𝗀𝗈𝗃𝗈, 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗈, 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂, 𝗇𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂, 𝗌ukun𝖺, 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗈

content. smut, choking, praise, breeding, spit, unprotected sex, dirty talk, squirting, finger sucking, passing out, belly bulge, slight cervix fucking

requested by: anon

͙͘͡★ 𝑮𝑶𝑱𝑶

Grins when you moan out the words. Feeling his teeth against your skin as he kissed up your neck, stopping just below your ear with a breathy chuckle.

"Yeah? Wan' feel my veins sliding against those walls when i fuck you baby?" He cooed, watching as you nodded with a whimper, tugging at the rubber material stretched over his cock.

"P-please, wan’ it so bad." you choked out a mewl, greedy cunt aching to feel him deep inside you.

He hummed, slender finger pushing back the hair on your forehead, his head tilting as he ran it across your bottom lip instead. “What do you wanna feel, hmm? Tell me how you want it.”

"Raw.. wanna feel you raw." Your face burned as Gojo continued to rub his cock teasingly between sopping folds. “My pleasure baby.”

Your boyfriend tugged off the only form of barrier between you two. Your lips parted in a loud moan when Gojo thrusted into you. Back arching off of the bed as he found a pace, rocking you back and forth each time his cock prodded your gummy spot.

“Satoruu, so good— haah. Can feel all of you. So, so deep— fuck.” You cried out, arms reaching up to scratch at his back as your legs wrapped around his waist. The man slamming his hips down roughly onto your pelvis.

He was right. You could feel every inch of his cock rubbing against your gummy walls. His full length taking its time to kiss your spot before bottoming deep, your head falling back with a series of loud mewls.

“Satoru.”

“You like feelin’ me like this baby?” He rasped, breathing getting heavier when you clenched down on him. “Fuck- can feel all of you too. Slutty pussy’s squeezing me so tight.”

It was so much more intimate than usual, being able to feel all of each other was sending you over the edge. Your noises only became louder and as you neared your high. Eyes rolling back and brain turning to mush with every roll of his hips. A high pitched mewl falling past your lips when he reached down to rub your sensitive clit.

“Should just pump ya full of my cum while we’re at it. Fill you real good.” He grunted, thrusts hard and bruising as he bullied your pussy stuffed. An incoherent babble falling past your lips when his lips brushed over yours. Blue eyes darkening as he grinned, “Gonna do just that baby. You want that? Want my cum leaking out of your perfect pussy?”

You nodded with a shaky whimper, body trembling as you dumbly cried out his name, squirting messily onto him and his cock. Gojo letting out a deep groan as his thrusts became sloppy, hammering even deeper into you until he stilled with tensed abs. Pumping your stomach round and full with his cum.

“There we go, fuck. Take it nice and s-shit— deep. Good girl.” Pressing a kiss to your lips and pulling out of you, letting his cum seep out of you in thick spurts as you shivered from the loss of contact. He’d been waiting for that for way too long.

͙͘͡★ 𝑮𝑬𝑻𝑶

Raises an eyebrow when you stop him from sliding on the condom. A smirk eventually gracing his face making your cheeks heat up. “Oh? My girl wants to get dirty tonight hmm?”

You let out a small whine, your hands over your face pulling out a hum from your boyfriend. You sure about this baby?”

“Mhm.. wanna feel you raw.”

“Whatever you want princess.” He wasted no time before he was behind you. A deep arch in your back with your ass in the air and face buried in a pillow. Your grip tight on the sheets as Geto’s thick veiny cock pushed into you.

You let out a mewl, his length grazing your walls while pressing into your g spot.

“Fuck. Didn’t think this pussy could get any better.” He groaned, a hand on the back of your neck with the other on your hip. A loud cry escaping your throat when he began fucking into you relentlessly.

“Suguru, oh f-fuckk. Nngh— so good.” you moaned, eyes teary as he continuously slammed into you, rocking your body with each of his mean thrusts.

You could feel him so deep inside you, practically kissing at your cervix every time his hips landed onto your ass. There was so much more contact, being able to feel every inch of his curved length as it pummeled your gummy spot. Your cries of his name muffled as you drooled onto the sheets beneath you.

“You feel that princess?” He grunted, lifting one of his legs so that he could roll his hips into you. A loud moan leaving your mouth as you nodded, clearly able to feel any change in his movements. “Feel good ain’t it?” Keeping up his pace until you were falling apart under him.

Brain turning to mush as your eyes rolled back, Geto pressing down harder into the back of your neck to support his high thrusts. Almost bouncing himself off of the flesh of your ads just so you could feel his deep.

“S-suguru. So good Suguru. So— haah,” you could barely process your own words. Mind filled with nothing but how good he felt inside you. Stretching your cunt so good as you clenched around him, wetness trailing his cock with your slick.

“Pretty pussy’s so greedy f’ me. Look at how much she’s sucking me in.” He rasped, breathing speeding up as he let out a series of groans and grunts. “Fuck, gonna cum for me baby? Cum for me nice and hard while i fill you up?”

You nodded shakily, body trembling as a choked scream echoed through the room. “F-fuck.” Letting out cries of his name as you fell off the edge. Making a mess on his cock while his thrusts became sloppy.

“Shit, can i cum in you princess?” He breathed, your dumbed down hum of confirmation being enough for him as he stilled. Coating your insides with ropes after ropes of his sticky cum.

͙͘͡★ 𝑻𝑶𝑱𝑰

Is elated when you utter the words. Immediately stopping whatever he was doing and practically carrying you to your bedroom. “Fucking finally. I hate the feeling of that shit on my dick.” He smirked, towering over you until you fell back onto the bed.

The large man on top of you with a groan as he buried his face into your neck. “Gonna break that little pussy tonight. You’re on the pill right baby?”

“Yes.” You whimpered, Toji’s hand snaking around your throat with a hum, “Good.”

It wasn’t long before you were naked, your knees pressed into your chest as your loud moans and mewls filled the room. Toji’s broad hips slamming roughly into yours as he fucked you deep.

Thick girth hitting your g spot with each speedy thrust. You let out a whiny cry, your lips parted in short mewls that matched his harsh movements. Body being rocked into the bed at an inhuman pace as your sopping pussy was bullied.

“T-tojii— nngh, so g-ood.” You whimpered, Toji’s grip on your neck tightening as he leaned further onto you. “Yeah? Feel me deep in ya?” Grinning darkly when you nodded, “Let’s see how much deeper i can go hmm?” You let out a tiny sob when he forced his cock even deeper, stretching you open to take all of him as he bottom out.

You couldn’t help your loud noises as you felt every part of your boyfriend’s dick inside you. Feeling every vein and every curve rubbing against your slippery walls as his hips rammed forward.

“Needed to feel this bare pussy f’ so long now, fuck.” He grunted deeply, “She’s so fucking greedy.”

You mewled shakily, “O-oh fuck- Toji, ‘m close. Can feel you so deep.” Your boyfriend keeping up his pace with a groan. “Open f’ me baby.” Letting a glob of his spit fall onto your tongue, a twitch running through his cock when you swallowed tearily.

He was fucking you stupid, brain fuzzy and your vision blurred as you were brought closer and closer to orgasm. Chest heaving heavily when your eyes met Toji’s. “Look so fucking pretty under me.” Your pussy spasming at the gruff undertone of his voice.

You let out a string of cries of his name, your eyes rolling back as your legs quivered. Toji’s hand threatening to tighten as he growled lowly. “Look at me when you cum baby.”

Your eyes met his, the man’s thrusts sending pleasurable shivers through your body as you reached your high. Trying your hardest to keep your eyes open as you came. A slap on your clit forcing them back on his as you made a mess.

“That’s it. My messy fucking girl. ‘M gon’ fill you up so good.” He breathed, sloppy movements coming to a halt as he buried himself deep inside you. Pumping you full with his hot cum while pressing his lips to yours. It was about time you let him do that.

͙͘͡★ 𝑵𝑨𝑵𝑨𝑴𝑰

He was pleasantly surprised to hear you utter the words, chin still glistening with your juices as he pulled away from your wet pussy. “You sure you don’t want me to use one sweetheart?”

“Nuh uh, wanna feel you raw.” You assure, tugging the man closer to you to sit him down. Nanami pulling you onto his lap with a small smile when you whimpered, your sensitive clit accidentally bumping into his thigh.

“Whatever you want sweetheart.” Pressing his lips onto yours for a kiss, allowing you to taste your sweetness as he ran his cock between your folds, collecting your wetness before lining himself up.

You moaned when the large hands on your hips guided you to sink down. His thick cock stuffing you full as you struggled to take all of him, already feeling him deep inside you.

You could feel all of him, pale colored cock grazing your walls perfectly as he reached further and further into you. The outline of his tip visible on your belly when the underside of your thighs touched his lap.

Nanami groaned, hands on your hips helping you to move up and down while you rolled your hips back and forth. Loud mewls falling past your lips as your arms draped over his shoulders, nails digging into his muscular back when he sped up the pace.

“Kento— so good. So deep.” You cried, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your g spot was pressed into over and over again. The feeling of him kissing your walls so sweetly making your mind grow foggy.

“Look you beautiful when you ride me. Feels so amazing, sweet pussy was made to take my cock like this.” He grunted, watching as your head fell back with a high pitched moan, feeling another orgasm swirling in you.

Nanami’s breaths sped, guiding you to move even faster on his length as his name fell off your tongue. “Kentoo— ‘m so close. Want you to cum in me.”

Nanami groaned, mouth latching onto one of your breasts as you clenched down on him, your hands finding their way to tangle in blonde strands as your back arched.

“Kento, oh f-fuck.” Your toes curled as your eyes closed. Body trembling lightly when you messily gushed onto his thighs. The man feeling his cock twitch as he used your cunt to milk him dry. Allowing his cum to paint your insides a sticky white.

His hands never stopped moving you, whiny mewls leaving your lips at the slight overstimulation as he kissed up your neck. “Don’t know how i’ll ever be able to go back sweetheart. All i wanna feel is your bare pussy like this.” He breathed, letting his hips do all the work in fucking you to yet another orgasm.

͙͘͡★ 𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑼𝑵𝑨

Sukuna would never tell you, but he sometimes never used condoms anyway. He only made you think that he did. He just needed to feel you. So he’d fuck you till you passed out, giving you no chance of finding out.

When you tell him you finally want to not use one he grins with a head tilt, fingers under your chin as he backed you up onto a wall. “Hmm? Why’s that?” Eyeing you hungrily making you whimper under his gaze.

“Just.. wanna feel you raw.”

Your boyfriend licked his lips with a hum, “I can definitely make that happen.” Not giving you a chance to so much as blink before his arms were hooked under your thighs, lifting you up against the wall with a deep inhale. “Wet f’ me already huh? I love that.”

He didn’t bother taking off your underwear, ripping your panties right down the middle while your legs secured their place around his hips.

You moaned loudly when he stuffed his full length into you. Able to feel every part and every inch of his cock against your walls when he began fucking up into you. Slamming his hips up at a toe curling speed that had your back arching against the wall.

“K-unaa,” you mewled, your boyfriend’s cock forcing its way in all the way. Leaving a painful stretch as his tip threatened to push past your cervix.

You let out a string of cries, arms holding onto him tight as you were moved up and down at an inhuman pace. “Fucking pussy’s so perfect.” He groaned, his movements remaining unaltered as he brought a finger to run across your swollen bottom lip. Shoving it into your mouth to sit at the back of your tongue. “Taking me so well.”

You moaned, eyes clouding with tears as your spot was relentlessly slammed into. Turning you to putty in his hands while your brain went dumb. “Kunaa— feels- nngh.. feels s’ g-good.”

“Yeah? Like when i turn you into my little brain dead doll?” He grunted, watching as you nodded with a whiny cry. “Mhm, can feel you so deep.” His single hand on your hips allowing him to fuck you to his liking.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, your legs beginning to tremble as your noises got louder. Eyes rolling back with an incoherent babble of his name, letting out a short scream when his spit coating finger reached down to rub at your clit. Circling the small bud with a wide smirk.

“Gonna make mess f’ me yeah? Let that pussy spray me like it always does?”

His words went unprocessed in your head, feeling yourself slowly slip in and out of consciousness as you were moved up and down his thick cock like a ragdoll. His cock leaving a visible bulge in your stomach as he neared his own orgasm.

You came with a choked sob, head resting against the wall with an opened mouth. Body quivering uncontrollably in your boyfriend’s arms as you squirted harshly. Coating his cock and legs in your wetness.

Sharp teeth bit at your neck as Sukuna’s thrusts became sloppier. Finally coming to a stop so he could pump you to the brim with his cum. Something that he’d wanted to do for a very long time. “It’s about time i got to fill you up like this.” He breathed, glancing up to see you yet again passed out.

Sukuna chuckled. His size and his speed put together was just too much for you.

͙͘͡★ 𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑶

His dick hardened the second you said it. Pouncing on you with widened eyes, “Really?”

You giggled, The boy looking at you with pure need in his puppy like eyes. Hoping that you were being serious about it.

“Yes baby, really.” You smiled, feeling your boyfriend’s erect cock pressing into you. “You sure?” He mumbled, “I won’t be able to pull out.” You pressed a short kiss to his lips, “I don’t want you to pull out, wanna feel you raw.”

That was all he needed to hear. Handling you on your knees with your back pressed against his chest. His hips rutting roughly into you as he basked in the feeling of your warm cunt around his bare cock.

“So good.” He moaned, “You’re so snug.” Hands on your waist as your head fell back against his shoulder, giving the boy the perfect view of your lewdly bouncing breasts.

You mewled, Choso’s cock rolling into your g spot at a pace that drove you insane. Your moans competing to be just as loud as his as you too got lost in the feeling of his bare cock. You could feel both his distinct veins grazing your walls when his pace sped up.

“Nngh— feels so perfect. Wanna fuck you like this forever.” He whimpered, burying his face into your neck as his legs weakened. Finding yourself lying on the bed with Choso hovering over you from behind, slamming his hips down onto you sloppily. Loud squelching joining skin slapping in the air.

“C-choso. Haah, so good baby.” You cried, back arching as he shoved himself even deeper at the praise. Chasing his high while bringing you to yours.

He let out a string of whiny cries, the snapping of his hips losing their rhythm as his cock twitched. Not allowing himself to cum until you did.

It was just so hard, you felt so good. Gripping his cock tightly every time you clenched down on him. The boy unable to help the way he fucked into you with desperation.

You and Choso let out matching mewls, your hands gripping the sheets as your spot was hammered at a merciless pace. Your moans turning into choked sobs as your body shook along with the bed. Toes curling and eyes rolling back as you neared your orgasm.

“Choso— nngh, cummin’ baby.”

“Please, cum f’ me. Need you to cum so i can too.” he breathed with a tremble, voice going up a pitch when you began squirting. Drenching his cock in your juices as your pussy spasmed.

Choso moaned in content, hips eventually halting their movement as he buried himself in you. Spurting all of the thick substance into you with a sigh. He kept himself in that position, his cock preventing any of his cum from escaping as he began to roll his hips once more. Addicted to how amazing your pussy felt.

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

[infictionalwonderland]

I NEED PART TWO OF THE MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N L/N!

. . . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT! (part2)

You cackled to yourself after sending the message into your groupchat, quickly returning to the video and beginning to play it again, occasional bursts of giggles slipping through your lips.

Resuming your place in the video—the first clip that began playing was actually from not that long ago at all. It was You, Kat Dennings, Elizabeth Olsen and Zendaya at Taylor Swifts Eras Tour (an experience you would genuinely never forget). Taylor was playing Lover and, in the clip, Kat had your face in one hand and the other wrapped around your waist, bringing you close to her body.

“Lover, can I go where you go—“ Kat sang with Taylor, singing all the lyrics to you and grinning at you, faces inches away from each other. “—Can we always be this close.” She punctuated this lyric with giving you an eskimo kiss.

You smiled sincerely at the memory.

The next clip began up, it was you and Chris Evans doing Playground Insults with BBC Radio 1: the two of you were sat opposite each other, knees touching, Chris was grinning goofily at you, giddy laughs escaping him as you tried to remain straight faced.

“—we’re here with Chris Evans and Y/N Y/L/N.” The presenters introduced.

“And we’re about to play Playground Insults . . Now Chris and Y/N are sat opposite each other,” the camera cut to you and Chris, him smiling largely and you looking away to contain your own, “the atmosphere is very tense.”

“We’ve done this quite a few times now but im thinking.. this is the biggest movie of the year, let’s make this the biggest playground insults we’ve ever done.”

“Yep.” Chris nodded, trying not to laugh.

“Chris, hun. . you’re ugly. Like, plain ugly.” You nodded seriously, immediately setting off as you feigned a pained wince to the words. “Everyone’s been talking about it. . just, you’re so atrocious to look at. Honestly, I almost feel arse over tits in horror when I saw you.”

Chris opened his mouth to say something but then faltered and pouted, “no matter how good of an actor I am, I could never even get those words out my mouth about you and make them sound genuine. Seriously.”

The third clip started—it was Chris Hemsworth on a carpet, a bold colourful question at the bottom said ‘WHO HAS THE MOST FANS?’. Chris immediately said, “Y/n.” In that deep Australian accent of his. “Not that I blame the people from choosing her to be the people’s queen, she is truly one of a kind. You’ll only ever meet one Y/n in your lifetime, cherish it. The fans have the right idea.”

It changed to Scarlett with the same colourful question at screen and at the same carpet event: “Oh, Yeah. Y/n, one hundred percent.” She chuckled huskily. “That woman has fans upon fans and seriously, I’m one of them. She is something else.” She grinned, winking at the camera.

After Scarlett, Paul Rudd came onto your screen in the very same clip. “Oh! The legend herself, Y/N Y/L/N.” Paul answered brightly, smiling. “The amount of fans she has is unbelievable—well, it’s definitely believable for someone like her, so, not really unbelievable..”

The forth clip began—it was you all playing Family Feud with Jimmy Kimmel, on his live show. Sebastian and RDJ were currently facing off; Jimmy posed the question “what, other than the sun, are some of the hottest things to exist?”

Sebastian got to the buzzer faster than Robert managed to and didn’t even falter or hesitate as he answered straight away, “Y/N Y/L/N.”

The audience immediately screamed laughed and shrieked in delight, RDJ just nodded his head in understanding and appreciation, clapping his hands. Chris Evans, Mark and Anthony on the other side all looked amused but ultimately accepting (Chris was nodding along almost subconsciously). You were on the other team, looking heavenward with a faint exasperated grin and Scarlet wrapped her arm around your waist, Chris Hemsworth smirking at you both.

The fifth clip started up: it was a behind the scenes shot from Endgame, the big final battle. You were currently in the middle of doing your own stunt, green screen behind you and harnesses strapped to you as you dangled at a halfway point in the air. Your arms and hands were positioned in such a way to show your character manipulating her powers—the position also very much enhanced your chest, with the added help of your superhero attire. You looked hot, even you could admit.

The camera mirthfully panned to some of the rest of the cast who all stood aside while you filmed your scene—said cast being Chris Evans, Tom Holland, Gwyneth Paltrow, RDJ, Elizabeth Olsen and Tessa Thompson. All of their eyes were fixated on you, Robert was the only one grinning in amusement (and awe) while all the others stared at you as though you hung the sun yourself.

“Boobies.” Lizzie giggled faintly, her eyes stuck. The rest of the cast watching dumbly nodded while the crew cracked up behind the cameras.

And if you screenshotted their dumbfounded faces looking ip at on screen you. . well that was your business.

The clip changed. It was now Karen Gillan being interviewed on some carpet event, looking genuinely breathtaking. The interviewer was asking, “—obviously, your friend and co-star Y/N Y/L/N has been in lots of iconic movies. . what is your favourite scene of hers in The Wolf of Wall Street?”

Karen paused with a cheeky little smile, giving the interviewer a a jokingly incredulous look. “Come on.” She simply said. “It’s a bloody no brainer, I’m certain it was Leonardo’s favourite scene too. . I hope it is anyway otherwise he’s a silly, silly man.”

At the same carpet event with the same interviewer, Chris Hemsworth was being interviewed—his wife, Elsa, on his arm and looking half ready to battle off any rude interviewers (queen).

“—what is your favourite scene of hers in Ocean’s 8?”

“All of them!” Elsa answered eagerly, grinning. “Her outfits really accentuated her personality and I enjoyed them very much so. Particularly her outfit for the gala. . the amount of accentuated personality, by gosh, it had me speechless.”

Chris turned her head, obviously trying not to laugh at his wife.

“Nunca he estado más celoso y agradecido por la ropa en mi vida.” Elsa hummed.

You blinked.

The clip changed to you, Sebastian, Lizzie, Paul, Jeremy and Jimmy all on his Tonight Show playing Musical Beers. The slightly unnerving music/beat played in the background while you all stalked around the circle, Paul and Jeremy already out—leaving you, Seb, Lizzie and Jimmy.

As you were all racing around the circular table, Lizzie very obviously swatted your ass and you were impressed with your own body as you watched that impact: the audience erupted into laughs and shrieks, Jimmy playfully covering his eyes as Seb smirked. You thought that would be the end of the clip, but no.

The very disco-esk tune briefly cut out and past time you thought that meant it stopped completely and you’d already reached for the red cup in front of you and chugged it’s contents, only to pause as the music began back up.

“Spit it back! Spit it back!”

You did just that—but when the music actually stopped and Seb was left standing in front of the cup with your (let’s not go there) in it, your mouth popped open in shock. Jeremy gladly backed away from the table in hysterics, Lizzie and Jimmy equally as amused.

“Oh my god, I am—“

Sebastian quickly downed the cup with. . those contents, not even looking all that perturbed.

“So sorry.” You finished, mouth agape.

You vaguely remembered a conversation you’d had with him after the show, sincerely and repeatedly apologising and he was just very, very amused with you. He didn’t seem to mind at all—what an odd man.

“It’s all good.” Sebastian chuckled lowly, wrapping the mortified looking past you in a one armed shoulder hug and squeezing you to him. Lizzie seemed to be trying to trade a very obvious eye message with you—the audience shrieked and screamed in the background.

Another clip began: its was you and Scarlett Johansson doing a trust fall thing, you thought (correctly).

“Scarlett I swear. .” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at the woman behind you—she grinned back at you amusedly, her eyes twinkling.

“Calm down.” She laughed herself. “I’ll catch you don’t worry, gorgeous.”

Still slightly overcome with nervous giggles, you turned and let out a breath as you shut your eyes before holding at your arms and falling back.

And catch you she definitely did—although her hands didn’t exactly land in a PG-13 area, you cackled as you watched her hands grope at your chest to pull you up. In the video, you were also wheezing as were the crew and Scarlett had a cheeky little smirk as she laughed.

When you were finally standing, she gave one last squeeze before finally letting go—on screen you was breathless with giggles.

“Always wanted to do that.” She shrugged simply with a large amused smile.

The next clip began—it was Zendaya and Tom Holland on LADBible, playing that how much do you agree or not game. The statement said was ‘Y/N Y/L/N is everyone‘s celebrity crush’.

Instantly, Tom and Zendaya moved their cups to strongly agree, both of them nodding in solid agreement with the statement: presently, you awed at your friends, ego very much boosted. Well. To be fair, all of this video was massively boosting your ego.

“I mean, come on.” Zendaya made a ‘duh’ face and shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s Y/N.” Tom smiled crookedly, adding onto her comment.

“I am so happy I get to now say that she’s one of my closest friends.” Zendaya beamed genuinely. “She’s—one of those people whose beauty isn’t just an external thing, she’s so lovely man.” She pouted, in awe of you.

Watching the video, you beamed back at her.

The clip changed: Mark Ruffalo was on the Graham Norton show, next to Nicki Minaj and an actor you couldn’t place.

“Who would you say your favourite co-star has ever been, Mark?” Graham inquired.

“I—i would probably have to go with Y/N—“ The crowd instantly erupted into cheers and yells and Nicki smiled next to him, stating that she loved you under the sound of cheering. Mark grinned back at her, mumbling ‘me too’.

“Yeah, she’s a hell of an actress, that one. So easy to work with. Funny as f—hell, she’s just—an extremely genuine and kind person, and she really brings the energy on set.” Mark grinned. “..she’s also the only free pass my wife has ever given me. Which I won’t be using! Because I don’t believe in cheating, it’s scummy! Even though she’s gorgeous—anyone would be lucky!” He had to rise to a shout at the end as the audience erupted.

Nicki giggled next to him, “me personally, I would use that pass.”

You gasped in laughter as you watched the screen, screen-recording it all so you could go back and watch it. Saving it to your folder titled PISSING MY PANTS HRLP

The clip changed yet again, showing a scene from the Winter Solider BTS. You and Sebastian were filming a scene where he had to shoot your character—you watched the ‘Winter Solider’ shoot your character multiple times making you go down with an agonised yell, crawling away from him.

As soon as CUT was yelled, Sebastian’s face dropped from his stone cold (wintery) expression and he raced to you, crouching next to you. He practically tugged you into his lap on the floor, holding you.

“Oh my fuck that—that just felt so real, Y/n. You know I would never hurt you right?” He asked, blinking repeatedly before a small smirk fell on his lips. “You’re way too pretty to injure doll. Can’t ruin your perfect face.”

On screen you huffed in mock anger, hiding an amused grin as you shoved at him—he still held you close to him though, so both of you fell backwards and burst into giggles.

You literally thought ‘I ship them’ as you watched the clip of Sebastian and yourself, forgetting that was you for a moment.

Another clip started up—another behind the scenes. It was you and Tom Hiddleston in Thor : Ragnarok. In the scene Loki was tied down to the chair and your character was meant to intimidate him—you watched yourself take out your character’s daggers and lean forward into his space. One leg leaned up on top of the arm of the chair, sliding one dagger just a hair above the skin of his neck while using the over the move his chin up to be angled to you as you mockingly smiled down at him.

You said your line as your character but Tom remained silent, mouth parted and eyes widened as he gazed up at you—speech failing him. (You knew that they actually decided to include this awestruck look in the movie—the amount of fucking edits you’d seen was unreal).

Eyebrows crinkling you nudged your knee into his chest and he snapped out of it, grabbing your knee in a gentle grip. “Sorry darling, words sometimes seem to fail me in your presence.” He muttered rather hoarsely, still staring up at you.

“I don’t fucking blame him.” Tessa Thompson murmured from behind you both, and the camera moved to show her staring at you in a similar awe.

Present time, you could barely hide your smirk. Literally the biggest ego boost. Of all time.

Again, the clip changed and it was now Natalie Portman looking gorgeous on a carpet event, being interviewed—“if you could have Jane explore another romance than Thor, who would it be and why?”

“Y/N!” Natalia enthused immediately. “Well—her character, but like. Both. Either. One for me, one for Jane. That—would be great. And why? Come on! She’s an absolutely beautiful woman, inside and out. She has this outward glow that you literally cannot and don’t want to look away from and that reflects so much in her personality—once you’ve interacted with her one time, you never want to stop. Ever. I’m not kidding.” She giggled.

Another clip started up quickly—a blooper of you and Chris Evans. In this scene, your characters were meant to kiss after an angsty, angry argument. You stormed into the frame, into the bedroom, completely in character—an angry expression on and ready to go at Steve.

Before you could even let out a single syllable to begin your lines, Chris immediately surged forward and took your face in his hands, kissing the living daylights out of you.

You both pulled back after a bit and you just started at him, questioningly (that kiss was probably one of your best ever, let it be known, Chris Evans was a fantastic kisser).

“I—I thought It’d be good for the scene. .” Chris trailed off bashfully, scratching the base of his neck, literally pulling the excuse out of his arse. In actuality, he hadn’t wanted to spare a moment of the scene where he could be kissing you, well, not doing so.

“Bull!” Scarlett exclaimed as she materialised in the doorway. “He just wanted to kiss you.” She told you, pointedly looking at the man.

“Yeah—i—“ He huffed a defeated sigh, pink-cheeked. “I’ve got nothing. She’s right.”

In hindsight, you thought to yourself, you should probably stop being so shocked when the fanbase starts shipping you with your costars.

The clip changed: now it was you, Elizabeth and Aaron on a carpet event together—all being interviewed at the same time.

“So, Y/n, how does it feel to be in a Maximoff twin sandwich right now?” The interviewer giggled happily, smiling.

Before you could open you’re mouth—“we’re really enjoying it.” Lizzie and Aaron replied at the same time.

The interview gaped and you simply rolled your eyes as the two smirked at either side of you, they’d been talking in sync ever since you’d first met them at the table reading.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t why?” Aaron grinned crookedly. “A beautiful, lovely woman in between us. Honestly, love, there’s not a thought in my head besides you.” He joked, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“I completely support that.” Lizzie chirped in, “ever since I’ve met this gorgeous lady who i now acknowledge as my partner in everything—she’s taken up all of the room in my brain, and I couldn’t be happier.” She giggled, putting her arm around your waist.

In the middle of them both, with an arm over your shoulder and one around your waist—you simply sighed, sparing the giddy interviewer an exaggerated suffering expression.

Again, the clip switched—it was now another blooper of you in the Iron Man movie, the scene where you handed Tony’s arse to him in the boxing ring. Instead of acting as scripted, Gwen Paltrow got up from her seat and strode over to the boxing ring, stepping inside gracefully and planting one right on your lips.

Presently, you giggled as you thought back to this moment. Gwen was your impulsive queen. Your idol.

From the floor, RDJ squawked in shock, exclaiming about being cheated and betrayed and Gwen flung her stiletto off her foot at him without moving from your lips.

When she finally did, she simply smiled at you kindly, “you just looked so good that I couldn’t not kiss you, sweets.” She shrugged and you, on screen, laughed at her as you leaned back in to kiss her cheek.

(Unfortunately the scene was not included in the movie—but Gwen never wasted an opportunity to talk about it, and you, if the chance arose).

The clip moved onto another one—back to the Thor : Ragnarok movie, you and Heimdall were fighting together, however you missed a step in your stunt and ended up stumbling. Idris immediately caught you with a steady arm around your waist, full you to him so you could stabilise yourself.

You smiled up at him thankfully, squeezing his arm in gratitude (totally not because you’d just wanted to feel his bicep).

You watched as your on screen self get distracted again and Idris murmured to Tom who’d now appeared next to him, “I feel like it’s dishonourable how much I want her to fall so I can catch her again now.”

“Mate, trust me,” Tom laughed, “I completely understand. But she doesn’t need the rescuing.”

“That she does not.” Both men smiled fondly as they watched you.

Presently, you were actively refusing to blush.

A different clip started up—Florence Pugh was being interviewed, looking breathtaking in her green dress. “—did you take anything from set?” The interviewer was asking, smiling at Florence.

“Um—not much, just Y/n’s heart.” Florence immediately cracked up at her own joke, smiling widely. “And her underwear too.” She added.

The interviewer opened her mouth to say something more, giggling at Florence as she continued speaking: “and before you ask, no. I wouldn’t be selling, for any price. Finders keepers and all that shite—plus, she’s my girl, so. That rule applies even more so. No one else can take her heart. Or her pants.”

Watching your friend, you giggled at her cheesy smile at her words before getting distracted by your group chat, where multiple of your friends and co-starts had seen your message and were now responding. Your laughter increased tenfold as you opened the thread.

[skzdarlings]

the ride ; skz ; chan x reader

original ask: requested by @rosequartsz : chan with the prompt ❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜ like the reader is the same age as jeongin so chan kinda feels bad but at the same time he wants to corrupt the reader so bad cushsisjsis

+

original ask: requested by anonymous : Chan and ❛ please. make me feel good. no one else can like you. ❜ ❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: friends to lovers, chan is a little older than reader, reader is not actually that innocent but pretends to be and they both get off on it lol. some not very safe driving lol keep ur eyes on the road. car sex, dirty talk, teasing, corruption play, puuuuure smut. word count: 2400 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

-

“That’s not fair,” Jeongin says.  “I called dibs.”

“Too bad.”  You stick your tongue out at him.  “Learn to run faster, loser.”

Jeongin scowls, once more relegated to the backseat of Chan’s car.   You are sitting pretty in the passenger seat for the fourth day in a row and Jeongin is playfully annoyed about it. 

You and your twin brother have been racing into Chan’s car since high school.  You are both at university now, but Chan still offers the occasional lift.  With storm season making public transit a bigger hassle than it’s worth, Chan has been offering more rides. 

Just because of the weather.  Not any other reason.  Of course.      

You smirk, casting a side-glance into the driver’s seat.  Chan is smiling at Jeongin through the rearview mirror, looking less like Channie, the boy of your teenage fantasies, and more like Bang Chan, the man of your adult dreams.  He is wearing a baseball cap and leather jacket, his whole demeanour oozing an effortless masculinity, the bearing of a competent man who knows he can do anything. 

And still, despite his well-earned cockiness, he has an undoubtedly shy side.  When he looks at you, the tips of his ears flame an embarrassed, fiery red, and his dimpled smile is almost boyish in its sweetness. 

“Right then,” he says.  Then, like the endearingly cheesy goofball he is, he adds, “All aboard, ready for takeoff!” 

“Jeongin,” you say, blinking innocently at your twin through the mirror.  “You have your presentation notes, right?  You don’t want to forget them.”

Jeongin double-checks his bag but you already know he won’t find them.  You deliberately took them out and placed them on the kitchen counter.

“Damn,” he says, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt.  “I thought I put them in here.  Sorry, I’ll be right back.” 

Jeongin practically flies out of the car and up the driveway, leaving you and Chan.  It happens quickly, before Chan can even compute it.  You can see the gears turning in his head, but you are faster, sighing melodramatically while gathering the hem of your skirt. 

“Silly boy,” you say.  “What should we do while he’s gone?”  You draw your skirt up your thighs just enough to tease the skin of your upper thighs. 

Chan is staring there with his mouth open, his words evaporating on his tongue.  He clears his throat after a second, ripping his gaze away.  He looks across the dashboard and laughs, a shy, awkward laugh. 

“Your brother will be back in a second,” Chan says.  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah?”

He is white-knuckling the steering wheel, like all his restraint is being poured into that physical grip.  Even so, it is not hard to pry his hand off the wheel.  You know a stronger, more belligerent shove could not bend a determined Bang Chan, but the softest touch from your gentle hands will have him breaking in seconds.   

You are slow, casual despite your racing heart, guiding his hand onto your knee.  He makes a little noise that turns your whole body to pure, liquid heat.  You make a similar sound, a faint whimper in the back of your throat, as you slide his hand up your thigh. 

“Channie,” you say, your too-sweet, too-innocent voice part of your acting, but your breathlessness undoubtedly real. 

“Don’t—”  His voice breaks and he clears his throat.  “Don’t say my name like that.  You know—”  

“What do I know, Channie?” you ask, blinking at him with wide eyes while you curl his fingers around your thigh.  You bring your legs together, holding his hand between them.

He visibly swallows, throat bobbing.  The redness has spread from his ears down his neck. 

“We’ve talked about this, baby girl,” he says, his tone stricter, taking on that darker edge that makes your heart – and everything else – gush.   “We’ve been good so far, okay?”   If stolen kisses, open zippers, and groping touches count as good.  “You’re my – you’re my friend.  You should be like a little sister or something to me… yeah?  Yeah… Yeah!”  He shakes his head, pulling himself out of the distraction caused by you unzipping your jacket.  He squeezes your thigh, a firm, warning grip.  “Don’t make this so hard,” he says. 

“What’s hard for you, Channie?” you ask, reaching into his lap and touching his thigh, then higher, finding the evidence of his words.  A shiver moves across his shoulders, his breath catching as you cup your palm around the bulge in his jeans.  “Is it something I can help you with?”  You lick your bottom lip then smile. 

“Oh,” he says.  His eyes crinkle with amusement but there is a score of different emotions on his face, all of them smoldering.  “You really wanna play that game, huh?” 

There is no chance for an answer because Jeongin returns, hopping into the car with his notes.  You and Chan separate, looking out the dashboard window.  You pat your hot skin and try to slow your racing heart. 

Sensing the oddly silent tension, Jeongin narrows his eyes and looks between you.  Eventually, his expression sours like he smells something bad. 

“Oh my god,” he says, then punches Chan in the shoulder.  “Are you fucking my sister!”

“What!” Chan says, getting redder by the second.  “Jeongin, how could— I wouldn’t— I don’t—”

“What, you don’t fuck?” Jeongin asks, then laughs until he is wheezing.  “You can do better, man.”

“Jeongin, shut up!”  You reach back to smack at him, rubbing your hand all over his stupid face and messing up his hair while he wails in protest.   

“All right, all right!”  Chan says, breaking you up.  “Let’s just… let’s just go, okay?  Okay.” 

“Yes, daddy,” you say, mostly out of spite. 

Chan squeaks. 

Jeongin pretends to gag then slumps against his window.  

“I’m gonna need to start taking the bus,” he says, morose.

-

Fortunately, thanks to the impromptu revelation of your shenanigans, it does not take much convincing for Jeongin to find another ride home.  When Chan pulls into the campus parking lot to pick you up, you approach his vehicle with a grin and a wink.    

You slide into the passenger seat, smoothing down your skirt while he sighs.  It sounds more amused than frustrated.    

“Where’s your brother?” he asks. 

You shrug with theatrical exaggeration. 

“Right,” Chan says, starting the car.  “Got it.”

He puts a hand on your headrest to leverage himself, looking out the rear window as he reverses the car.  That proximity alone gets you hot, the temptation to grab him already strong.  You play a patient game, as always, stealing glances and suggestive smiles while he drives. 

Halfway home, you put a hand on his knee.  At first your touch is innocent, tracing slow circles on the denim, then you get a little more brazen, fingertips brushing up his thigh. 

“Baby,” he says in that warning voice, eyes on the road.  Holding the wheel with one hand, he uses the other to stop your wandering ascent. 

“Yes?” you ask with all that faux-innocence.  Rather than fight his touch, you guide his hand to your lap, placing it on your knee. 

Unlike this morning, he does not play nice.  You make a startled, high-pitched sound when he immediately dives under your skirt, his rough palm pressing down where you are already aching.   Your thighs slam shut out of instinct but his hand is where it wants to be, his fingers curled around your pussy in a proprietary touch. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice playfully mean.  He grinds the heel of his palm against your throbbing clit.  He never takes his eyes off the road.  “Isn’t this what you wanted?”  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, though you cannot help but rock yourself against his hand. 

“Mmm,” he says, patting your pussy then stroking your thigh, guiding your legs open again.  “We’ll see about that.” 

You keep your eyes ahead too, pretending not to notice when he glances at you.  Then you gasp because he reaches out and tugs the zipper on your hoodie.  You instinctively clutch it, wearing nothing but a bra underneath, having taken off your other layers to surprise him.  He is the one surprising you, a secret sexy menace under all that shy sweetness.  He unzips the hoodie halfway then reaches past the material to squeeze a handful.  Your body practically sings under his touch. 

“Channie,” you say, breathless again. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says.  “Channie’s gonna take care of you, yeah?  Always.” 

“Take care of me how?”  Your question toys with that false innocence, the little game that gets you both hot, but there is genuine curiosity there too.   This game has been escalating slowly over time.  You want more and you are starting to get desperate. 

Chan looks at you.  His gaze moves over your mouth then your body, your skirt rucked up and breasts practically spilling out of your hoodie.  He swears, looking back at the road with that red blush on his ears again. 

“Fuck,” he says.  “I want to fuck you so badly.  You have no idea.” 

His words have a raw, honest edge.  He swallows, hard.  You feel like one tightly coiled ball of tension, ready to snap apart. 

“Please,” you say in that breathy voice.  “Make me feel good.  No one else can like you.” 

You do not make it all the way home.  There is a nearby lookout point at the park, a shrouded parking area that has undoubtedly seen its fair share of hook-ups.  Chan parks there and you dive at each other like randy teenagers.  You climb into his lap, bumping everything on the console on your way, the honking the horn with your backside for good measure.  It makes you both giggle.

Then your laughter is swallowed by hot, desperate, open-mouthed kisses.

“Mmm,” you hum against his lips.  You push his hat off his head and sink your fingers in his curly hair.  “Channie, please,” you say. 

He cups the back of your neck, holding your head where he wants it so he can kiss you thoroughly.  His ravishing touch leaves you shaking with need, rocking against him to no relief. 

“Poor baby,” he says with a little laugh, squeezing your neck then drawing his hand down the curve of your chest.  He unzips the rest of your hoodie.  His mouth follows the same path as his hands, down your chest and back up again. 

He is working you up, deftly and swiftly, using just a few well-placed throat kisses, a few flicks of his fingertips across the sensitive peaks of your breasts.  He seems so composed under you, other than the flush to his complexion, the heat to his skin that has him shedding his leather jacket.   You feel completely undone, half-naked and writhing in his lap.  Your hands tangle together, fumbling around his belt. 

“Let me,” he says.  He gets his belt open and his fly undone, then his hands are on you.  He doesn’t just tug your panties to the side but rips them apart, snapping the seams like they’re nothing.  Then those strong fingers are inside you, finding just how wet and ready you are for him.  He makes a low, guttural sound, thumping his head against the headrest.  “Fuck, baby girl,” he says.  “You know what you do to me?” he asks. 

“I dunno, Channie.”  You pout and bat your eyelashes.  “You better show me.” 

He laughs.  He holds your hips and moves you, positions you where he wants you.  You are pressed so close together, chest-to-chest, so you cannot see when he finally enters you.  But you feel it, hot and hard and filling you, stretching you, almost painful but burning so good.  You slap a hand to the roof of the car, eyes closing as you moan. 

“S-so much,” you say, because it feels like you have been sinking forever and he is still not all the way inside. 

“Yeah, I know, baby,” he says.  His thumb is expertly circling your clit while your whole body seems to soften, changing to fit him, like you were made for this moment.  “That’s it,” he says.  “Have a little trust in yourself.  I know you can take it.”

His thrusts are small, his hands guiding your hips over him, grinding him deep inside you.   Then you are clutching his shoulders, moaning into his neck as he fucks you slowly and steadily.  It is everything you needed and not enough, only spurring more desire.  You know you will need him again, the way he needs you.  Just the way he says your name as he holds you, as he fucks you, as he takes you apart and puts you together again.   It feels like that when you come, when he fucks you through it, saying your name and praising you. 

“Good girl,” he says, barely above a breath.  “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

When he gets close, he pushes the seat back.   You get on your knees between his legs and take him in your mouth.  He comes with a low groan and another breathless slur of your name.  Then you are back in his lap and his hands are everywhere, clutching you possessively to his chest.  You are both breathing hard, riding the slow come-down of your frantic desperation. 

“Fuck,” he eventually says.  He seems shy again, giggling as he looks at you with a blush on his face.  “We, uh, we just did that, in the car, uh wow, yeah, I, uh—”

“Channie,” you say with a laugh of your own, grabbing his face and kissing him.  He smiles into the kiss, returning it with the same tender softness. 

You kiss for a long time, ignoring the world around you.  Eventually you have to crawl back into your seat and mostly redress yourselves, still smiling and giggling at each other the whole time.  Your phone was buzzing in your bag so you finally check it, rolling your eyes at the message there.   

You show it to Chan who laughs, blushing again, but nods. 

“Right,” he says, “We should probably go get him.”

You laugh too, sending an emoji with its tongue sticking out in response to Jeongin’s message that reads:  My ride fell through.  When you are done not-fucking each other, can you come back and get me?  Thanks.  Sluts.   

[feyascorner]

Okay perhaps this sounds odd but imagine Astarion starts to disassociate while intimate with Tav and so he uses their established safe word, only to be bewildered when Tav actually listens to him and stops and asks if he’s okay and tries to comfort him because nobody has cared that much before 😢

OH GODS WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (i love it) warning for suggestive content :)

For as long as Astarion's been genuinely intimate with you, for no other reasons but simply because of the affection the two of you hold for one another, he has always been in control.

It soothes him, in a way, to be on top. And as much as he enjoys watching you come undone beneath him, there's a more frustrating reason behind why he always feels the need to be the one to push you down onto whatever surface he deems decent enough at the time. From above you, he can see every little twitch in your body, every shift in your expression, and most of all, he can control what's happening, unlike his centuries spent as a seductive tool for Cazador's own needs.

He knows you're not like those fools. He knows you're different, and you're special to him. But the gnawing voice in the back of his head always forces him to pull you in, to hold you closer, to make love to you.

It's fucked up in so many ways.

"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."

But when you look up at him with those imploring, loving eyes, the voice seems to go quiet. He swallows the dryness of his throat, unable to think of anything but how wonderful your touch feels on his skin, and he thinks he could drown in this forever. He's putty in your hands, whether he wants to admit it or not.

"Well? Don't be a tease just standing there, darling."

In what feels like minutes, he's a mess. He's making sounds he shouldn't be making, fingertips digging into your hips as if they're the anchors keeping him from finishing too early. He breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, groaning when you caress the sharp tip of his ear between your fingers.

The only thing keeping him from spilling is the impending embarrassment he'd feel for doing so this early on in the night.

Then, everything stops.

"You're so beautiful," you whisper.

They're only words. They're not ones he's heard little of---in fact, he's heard it too much in the past two hundred years. In an instant, memories of the nights he spent under strangers, forced to shove his mind into its darkest corners just to get through their own pleasures, flood his consciousness. The sickening taste in his mouth afterward, and the need to rub his skin till it goes raw were not uncommon. It was routine. A sick part of his life that he'd rather forget.

You don't mean it the same way they did. They only said things like that because that's all they could say. They didn't know him as anything but the husk of a body he resided in. He knows you are saying the words to him. Not to his body but to the very person he is.

But the word comes spilling out his mouth, and immediately, you freeze.

You actually stopped.

Of course, you would. You're you.

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" you reach to cup either of his cheeks, and he stares at you as if you're a star that's fallen from the sky. He blinks, slowly.

"I don't know, I just---" he searches for words. "--you haven't done anything wrong, darling."

You wait for him to finish patiently. Gods, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.

"I only remembered something I'd rather not," he plasters a crooked grin on his face. "It's quite alright. We can continue now if I haven't ruined the mood."

You pull away from him, and he fears you'll leave.

Moments later, you return with a glass of water. Wordlessly, you hand it to him, and he only stares at it, confused beyond belief. Only once he notices the way you gesture to the glass does he drink it, and you finally climb back into bed, lying down beside him.

"Come here," you open your arm, motioning him to come closer.

"Darling, as much as I'm all for experimenting, that's a strange position to have sex in."

You smile, shaking your head. You don't explain any further, only continuing to hold out your arm.

Hesitant though curious, he slowly lies down beside you, his head just above your chest and slotted between the space below your chin. With gentle hands, you pull him closer and toss the blanket over both of your bodies.

It's warm. Strange, but warm.

"You don't have to wear a mask with me," you whisper.

His eyes grow wide, and his chest stills. He doesn't have many tears left after 239 years, but there's an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest that tells him if he were still 39 and alive, he might have. Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into where he can hear the steady beating of your heart.

Later, when your eyes begin to droop, he mumbles.

"Tell me I'm beautiful again."

"You're beautiful," you say softly. "With or without your pretty face."

You might be imagining it, but you feel him smile against your skin.

[fastandcarlos]

Padel Queen : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: when max suggests couples padel with george and carmen, he worries about how good you'll be, little does he know though what a master of padel you are

“Are you sure that this is a good idea?” Max asked you one final time as you took the racket that he offered out of his hands. “It’s not too late for us to say no,” he reminded you, anxious eyes watching as you stood yourself up.

You looked the part, but playing the part? You weren’t too sure. When Carmen and George invited you for a game of padel you were keen to find out more about the game that Max seemed to love so much, but now that you were there, your confidence had diminished.

The noise of rackets hitting the ball continually made you jump as you put your trainers on, the speed that some of the balls were struck made you flinch in fear, and the groans of effort that echoed left you questioning how athletic you really were.

“I’ve got this!” You cheered, nudging against Max’s side, refusing to let him see just how nervous you were.

The two of you walked onto the court, picking the side you’d serve from whilst George and Carmen finished getting themselves ready. Max walked across and picked up one of the balls, taking you to the baseline at the back of the court.

“I’m going to teach you how to serve so you’re an expert in the game,” he informed you, turning you so that you were facing the right way.

You allowed Max to guide you, listening closely to his instructions, copying his movements whenever he demonstrated, constantly reminding you that he was an expert of padel.

The first time you served, you just managed to get the ball over the net, watching it bounce dejectedly on the other side of the court.

“How was that?” You grinned, spinning to face Max, his expression not matching your own. “What? What did I do wrong?”

Max scratched nervously over the top of his head, feeling his heart break as he saw how excited you were before him. “Well…you got it over the net, that’s a start.”

You could tell Max was trying to be kind as he went to fetch the ball, handing it back to you again. You stood sideways, like he said, body facing where you wanted to aim, like he said, arm holding the ball out, like he said. But Max wasn’t happy yet. The feeling of a figure right behind you made your body tense up as Max held his hands over both of yours.

“Let’s do it together,” he whispered, getting you to throw the ball up, swinging the racket back. You let Max guide you as the racket hit the ball, watching it go over the net with plenty more power the second time around. “And make sure you follow through with your swing too.”

The two of you practised a few more times before George and Carmen stepped onto the court. Max jogged over to you as you got yourself ready, draping his arm across your shoulders.

“We can beat these two easily,” he joked, trying his best to lighten your mood and fill you with confidence, “serve like I taught you and we’ll be just fine.”

You nodded in reply as George shouted for you to hurry up, taking your positions on the court. Whilst you and Carmen both stood relaxed, George and Max both looked up for the battle, determined to beat each other and earn themselves bragging rights.

George passed the ball to Carmen to start your game off, with Max easily reaching the serve and returning the ball. You found yourself a little lost on the court as Max raced around, almost forgetting as if you were there most of the time. After a bit of back and forth, mostly between the boys, Max lobbed the ball just over Carmen’s head giving you the point.

“That was perfect,” Max cheered as he turned around to approach you, offering his fist for you to fist bump.

You couldn’t help but admire the sudden competitiveness that appeared in Max, it didn’t matter if he was in a car, on the court, or just getting into the car with you, he wanted to be first no matter what.

“It’s your turn to serve now,” Max told you, placing the ball on your racket, “just remember what I told you and you’ll be just fine.”

You took the ball as Max offered you a reassuring smile, turning your body so that you were facing George. You could be forgiven for thinking he was a professional with how he stood, leaving you intimidated opposite him.

You remembered Max’s words as you swung the racket back, throwing the ball up into the air. You took a deep breath before swinging the racket forwards, watching on as the ball flew across the net, leaving a dumfounded George swinging and missing to return your serve.

“What the-“

“Babe! Where did that come from?”

George was frozen to the spot, feeling Carmen’s eyes on him. Meanwhile, Max ran over to you, wrapping his arms around your frame and twirling you around in the air.

“Have you secretly been practising or something?” Max chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “that was one of the best serves that I’ve ever seen in a game of padel.”

You weren’t quite sure where it came from, and truthfully, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hit a ball like that again, but feeling the excitement that radiated from Max made it all worth it. He couldn’t quite believe what he had seen, laughing away to himself in disbelief.

“Turns out I might be better at this than you,” you teased once Max put you down, “I guess you can just call me the padel queen.”

“You told me that she’d never played before,” George called out, letting the reality of what just happened sink in.

Max shrugged in reply, unable to help George. “I swear, I’ve never seen her play like that before. If you want to quit now, just say. I think we know who’s going to win this game now.”

George brushed his hand through his hair as Max took a hold of your hand, leading you back to your positions on court again. There was still a wave of surprise across the net from you as Max took the ball to serve this time.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do it?” You joked, feeling Max’s eyes land on you, the corners of his smile turning up.

“Hey, you might be good, but you’ve got nothing on me yet.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Burgeon

Logan Howlett x Reader Sex Pollen

Summary: Reader works in the science lab at the mutant academy. Trying to grow a new plant from a mutated seed they had found. When the bloom puffs a cloud into her and Logan’s face they both begin feeling strange.

CW: oral m!receiving, oral f!receiving, biting, p in v, creampie

a/n: sorry this took so long to write I was depressed :D also surprise its today

~~~

You rested your head on your hands as you watched the plant in front of you slowly yet rapidly bloom a gorgeous, wine red bud. The way the flower held itself closed mesmerized you. How small bumps decorated the stem and the leaves along it were a dark purple color.

Logan, a.k.a. The Wolverine stood next to you. Piddling with one of the enclosed flora that was under surveillance. Not all that interested in the details of your work, but enjoying spending time with you. Especially when the big blue fur ball was not around to distract you. Dusk was approaching as it shined through the greenhouse windows. A beautiful color painted the sky as the darkness of the night approached.

“Oh, Logan! Look the bud is about to bloom!” You wrapped your arm around his pulling him over to you. He groaned as you pulled him over to you. You watched closely as the petals fought each other to release. Taking their sweet time to reveal the beauty within.

“Sure is taking its time,” Logan huffed, eyes fixated on you now. Loving how happy you looked awaiting the new flowers arrival.

The petals dispersed. Revealing the most beautiful black center of the flower. A large cloud of purple dust coming out with it. Before you could say anything, you and Logan both inhaled the fumes. Covering your mouth and coughing aggressively as the pollen stuck to the inside of your mouth. You wide eyed the plant, shocked at what came out of it.

“What the hell— that thing isn’t poisonous is it?!”

“I… I don’t really know,” you meekly whispered.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean we found this thing, noticed it was displaying some irregular behavior for a seedling of its type. And we decided to monitor it. I didn’t know it was going to cough up smoke at us!”

Logan stamped his foot. Frustrated by the lack of caring on your part. Pacing in a small circle next to you with the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Okay! We just have to stay here for the next 48 hours. Keep us under supervision just in case we feel any side effects. We go about our days like normal, just can’t leave the Academy,” you rubbed your hand up and down your arm. Logan irritably took a seat, head down with his hands folded over his lap. You grabbed the pod and placed it in a holding chamber all of its own. Walking over and kneeling down in front of Logan.

“I’m sorry. If I had known—“ you reached your hand out to rest it on Logan’s leg.

“You don’t have to be sorry. We can forget all about it at the party tonight. Celebrating whatever the hell Charles was on about,” Logan grinned at you.

You smiled, “I’ll celebrate anything if it means free drinks.”

Logan left the greenhouse while you finished up cleaning and double checking everything. A sudden hot flash washed over your body. Pulling a sweat from every inch of you. You fanned your hand in front of your face, your clothes feeling oddly tight suddenly. Maybe someone turned the heat up in the greenhouse. You walked over to check the thermostat. Nothing about the number had changed. As long as it was reading right you were comfortable leaving it be.

Walking up to your room. Heat engulfed you, a minor ache on your body now approaching. Choosing to ignore the problem entirely. Changing into something more comfortable for the evening ahead. Looking at yourself in the mirror when a sudden, promiscuous image flashed in your mind.

Logan.

Behind you. Both of you completely nude as he pounded into you. Watching yourself take him in the mirror. His hands splayed out on your chest, lips on your neck.

Your face flushed with your arousal. Unable to fight the feeling forming deep down inside you. Aching at your core. Leaning over your bed as you writhed.

The feeling of his hands grabbing your hips. Buried completely inside you. Your back arching to meet his thrusts. Head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

You gasped at the thought. Unsure of what was happening to you. Uncontrollably desire was taking over your body. Your hand found your aching core in an attempt to cool yourself down. Scrunching up your face at the feeling. It felt good, but not right. It was not what you needed. You needed him.

Your face was completely flushed with thoughts of Logan. Trying your hardest to make it less noticeable before going downstairs.

“Just stop,” you told yourself.

Heading down to the common area where all your fellow teachers had gathered. An adults only party, all the students were off away. You smiled as you greeted your fellow mutants. Getting stopped by Hank. His warm smile and soft eyes pulling your attention to him.

“Hi, Hank,” you smiled as you walked over to him.

“Hello, beautiful,” Hank grinned, fangs decorating his bright white smile. You thought about how his teeth would feel against your neck. Blushing at the idea of the large monster on top of you. Your thoughts suddenly morphing to fit Logan into your fantasy. Fangs nipping at your skin as strong hands held yours above your head. Panting as he thrusted into you. Sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Everything going good with that mysterious plant of yours?” Hank questioned, breaking your fantasy.

“Uh— Yeah, kinda. It bloomed today but some purple pollen came out it. Not sure if that’ll have any effect on me,” you droned off as you saw Logan enter the room. Completely fixated on him now. Seeing his bulging muscles revealed by his tank top. His broad shoulders and strong brow bone indicating he was some form of frustrated. His eyes finally caught yours. Awkwardly you turned back to focus on Hank as you continued on about the beauty of the mysterious flower. Unable to keep Logan in your peripheral. Excusing yourself from the conversation. Walking into a corner so you could scan the entire room. Unable to spot Logan anywhere.

Muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Almost calming the burn trickling down your nervous system. Nose finding its place in the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale. Your hands meeting those around you, feeling the veins popping out. Smell of musk and cologne overwhelming your senses.

A silent feeling that he understood exactly what you were going through.

“Smells so good,” his gruff, low voice rang in your ear. Your head leaning back against his shoulder, eyes straining to look at him. Black eyes stared at you. Pulling you flush against him, his semi-hard cock pressed into you. Chills ran up you. Rolling your hips to grind against him. A low groan, almost a growl, vibrated against your ear.

Hands inched down closer to the place you ached most. Fingers grazing the sweet spot causing you to arch backwards slightly. Circling your mound as his eyes scanned the room.

“Everyone is in here,” you whispered, a soft moan on your tone.

“I know,” he grumbled, kissing below your ear.

Both of you silently enjoyed the feeling of your bodies pressed together for a moment. How perfectly your body melted to his front. How the smell of him sent goosebumps down your body. The sound of his breathing in your ear pooling inside you.

“Saw you over there with furrball. He not tickling your fancy tonight?” Logan’s fingers dug into your skin, a hint of jealousy on his tone.

“No,” you simply said.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Logan groaned into your ear, “I could smell you from my fucking room. Need to rip these clothes off and get inside you right now.”

You choked on air. Realizing Logan was having the same feelings you were. Unsatisfiable desire.

“Didn’t matter how fucking good my hand felt, wasn’t right. It wasn’t you,” he purred. His fingers danced along the line of your pants, daring to dip under your clothes. Feeling your pantyline against his fingers, the softness of the lace continuing his desire. Your hand met his, intertwining fingers with him. Looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Lust blown eyes stared into yours. He plotted an escape route to make sure none of your coworkers watched you slip away together. Grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him.

His touch tingled against your skin. Your sensitive body being thrown into overdrive as you headed down the hallway together. Pulling you into a stairwell and turning to face you. His entire face was red, sweat beaming down his brow. You blushed. Eyes locked together, blown pupils matching each other.

“Dunno if I can wait much longer,” Logan growled as he palmed at himself through his jeans. You fell to your knees instinctively. Tugging at his belt, pulling a deep sigh from him. Releasing his fully erect cock from its confides. It sprung up, tip swollen and leaking. A thick vein wrapped around the underside. You felt your pussy clench around nothing, your mouth salivating at the sight of him. Doed eyes stared up at him, your hand grasping around his member. Lips pressing against the tip in a kiss. Logan moaned at your touch. His fingers tangled in your hair as he guided you down on him. Choking around his girth.

“That’s it,” Logan praised as he lead you up and down on his cock. Hollowing out your cheeks to take him all the way. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, fighting off your urge to gag. Feeling him twitch in your mouth, knowing it would not take long for you to get him there.

Logan’s eyes squinted shut as he finished in your mouth. A grunt as he held you in place. “It’s not enough,” he moaned. Eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at you. Reaching a hand down to help you up, “I need to be inside you.”

His words melted into your core. Igniting a primal feeling in you. You wrapped your hand around Logan’s leading him up the stairs.

“My room’s closer,” you answered the question you knew he was silently asking himself. A grin painted his face as he watched your ass bounce going up the stairs.

Hurriedly typing your code to access your room. Logan’s fingers rubbed circles on your core through your clothes. You arched your back into him, feeling his still completely erect dick. “‘M gonna fuck you so good, doll,” Logan purred in your ear pulling at the button on your pants. You bit your lip finally getting the door open. Logan practically shoved you inside.

Attaching his lips to yours immediately, hands cupping both sides of your face. His tongue penetrating your mouth as your teeth clinked together. You hooked your fingers under his tank top, pulling it over his head. His hairy, muscular chest was completely drenched in sweat. His lips attached onto your neck, tongue coming out to lick a stripe up your sensitive skin. “What’s going on with us?” Logan asked against your skin.

“I’dunno,” you moaned when his teeth grazed a spot you liked, “I just want you.” He smiled at your response.

Logan pushed you onto your back on the bed. Ripping your pants and panties off you. A gasp fell from you. “You’ve got plenty more,” he growled as he kneeled at the side of your bed. Pulling you so that he was directly in front of your core. Soaking the blanket underneath you as arousal took over every sense you had. Logan chuckled as he lapped at your core, “Tastes so good.” You arched your back off the bed at the sudden contact. Pushing yourself closer into his mouth. Furrowing your brows because — GOD — he felt good, but it just was not enough to cool the fire inside you. Grinding yourself against his face trying your damndest to reach your high. Logan latched onto you like an animal devouring his last meal. Fingers digging into your thighs, bruising the soft skin there. Hooded eyes stared up at your face admiring how you scrunched up your nose and hung your mouth open. The soft moans and squeaks pouring from your mouth like music to his ears. He rolled his hips into the side of the mattress, desperate to fuck you. But more desperate to get you off first.

Your nails dug into the soft blanket below you. Riding his tongue through your orgasm. Body jolting and legs shaking. His name a scream on your lips. Logan pulled away, his face soaked in your juices. Dropping his pants to the floor. He stroked himself as he stared at your entrance. Your body still basking in the afterglow of orgasm. Logan pounced on top of you. Gently removing your top, lips finding their place on your exposed breasts. Biting through the fabric of your bra to play with your nipples. Licking and sucking the thin material. His hand pinched at the opposite one. Lips dancing up your neck, biting at your jaw.

Rolling his exposed cock into your soaked entrance. The first bit of relief you had felt all day. A shaky moan escaping you. Logan smirked above you, leaning his head back feeling how your body begged for him. Sliding his member through your slit, collecting all your wetness on him. “My pretty girl,” he praised, “I’m gonna fill you up to the goddamn hilt.”

Easing his way into you. Your walls practically pulling him in. Both of you moaned in harmony, throwing your heads back. “That’s more like it,” he cooed. Easy himself back before slamming back in. Setting himself at a brutal pace. The sound of skin smacking together filled the room. He panted above you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

You leaned forward to catch him in a kiss, Logan’s body slouching so that your front were pressed firmly together. Curving his arms under you, holding you tight as he fucked into you. A huff of breath falling from him with each snap of hips. He held you close, lips pressed against your neck. An occasional kiss being planted there. “You take cock so well. I’m gonna fuck you stupid,” he growled against your skin.

You clawed at his back. Desperate to hold him closer. Scratching down his body, pulling a moan from him. His pace was growing sloppy as he approached his own high. Your pussy still sensitive from your own. Walls clenching when he’d hit deep inside you. “Gonna be so full of me aren’t you? Little cum slut,” Logan grunted with each of his thrusts.

Logan attached his lips back to yours desperately panting and moaning as he felt himself about to finish. Sheathing himself fully inside you as he shot his seed. The feeling of him soothed the burn you had been feeling. Relieved by how perfectly he filled you up. You felt him grin against your skin, slumping all his body weight into you momentarily.

“Could stay like this all night,” he whispered in your ear. You petted his back, kissing him on the cheek.

“Yeah?”

“That way I can already be inside you when I feel like I gotta soothe the feeling again,” Logan playfully bit at your cheek.

~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I know this fic has been a long time coming so I hope it was a great read! I plan on writing quite a lot for the month of October, so if you have any requests send them my way! My next Logan fic is gonna be a Werewolf!AU //

{tags}

@toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @goodness-gracious13 ~ @figsnpassionfruits ~ @gretavankleep37 ~ @shinysam29 ~ @sunnyfranc ~ @savy-luvs-dilfs ~ @ayamenimthiriel ~ @megangovier ~ @its-in-the-woods ~ @father-of-2cats ~ @atthediscowithoutpanic ~

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Love and Brat Taming"

How I imagine the LADS Men brat tame and the type of dom that they are. Artwork @/osk_purinnumee on twitter

‼️ MDNI ‼️ This for the freak nasty mfs in my inbox … I love y’all hope you can lucid dream about this 😘

Zayne

Type: Edging | Voyeurism | Restraints | Temperature play??

Sweet stoic Zayne....Mr. "watch your hands" in public but completely different behind closed doors. Now let's say you decided to spend all afternoon being very handsy. He would warn you multiple times and of course you'd keep going even when he glared at you.

I feel like Zayne is definitely the type to .... watch. He would one thow-wow percent sit you on his lap with your hands tied in front of you and make you play with yourself while he watched.

What did he use to tie your hands? The tie that you kept yanking on all day in public to whisper in his ear.

"Since you can't control your hands I'll control them for you" He would watch you play and squirm on his lap and the minute he sees you're on the brink of climax he'd whisper a stern "Stop." snatching your wrists away, holding them above your head in one hand, making you whine. "Deep breaths ... there you go ... now start again"

He would do this again ... and again ... and again until you're spouting apologies and begging him to let you cum. He's not rough as a matter of fact he's so gentle it almost makes this punishment that much hotter, I mean worse.

Don't forget he's touch starved so while you're playing he's busy having his fun exploring your body stimulating every part of you. He'd go back and forth from just watching you to devouring your neck and pinching your nipples using his evol make them pebble faster and then taking them into his warm mouth.

By the time he lets you cum you're a sweaty puddle of pure bliss. He'd definitely talk you through it and end it with "next time heed when you've been warned"

Now next time he tells you to watch your hands you're torn between wanting this punishment again or wanting the sweet Zayne that gives you what you want without making you beg.

Sir?! Wtf you mean heed when I've been warned I'm acting up on your next day off fym

Rafayel

Type: Sense Deprivation | Overstimulation | Manhandling | Breeding Kink

Raf is the type of tamer who makes sure you can't walk and you're sore as hell the next day. He's merciless. He takes you how he wants you.

For example...

"Will you like me no matter what I become?" You promised. Such an innocent question. No.

You should have read the fine print because you had no idea it included the dominant powerhouse he'd become when you decided to ignore him after you went to bed mad at him and proceeded to ignore him for a full day.

"Don't play with me we don't do that we don't go to bed upset with each other because shit like this happens" He doesn't give more than half of a warning. He gives just one and that's it and its hardly a warning.

Raf doesn't get upset with you often but he's a whole different person when he does. He is definitely the type to blindfold you and tells you to be a good girl and no touching. "Keep your hands above your head"

He'd flip you back and forth between being sprawled out on your back and being flat on your stomach with a pillow tucked under your hips and much more. You're getting fucking rag dolled so hold on tight.

To start he would touch you everywhere except where you wanted most however he still would have you dripping wet and I mean dripping. I imagine once he gets you to that point he's the type to eat you out while making you explain why you decided to ignore him when you know he hates it. He'd edge you a little every time your hands strayed too close.

You would have absolutely no good reason for ignoring him for a whole day on purpose so he'd keep going snatching orgasm after orgasm from you until you're pushing his head away. Big mistake because he said no touching and keep your hands above your head. Be ready to get pounded into the mattress until dawn. For sure the type to fill you up over and over again just to watch it drip out so he can push it back in with his fingers.

"Raf I can't- " he'd cut you off "You can take it ... gimme one more I know you can do it" he would make sure you can't walk the next day so you have to spend the entire day with him to make up for lost time.

I need this man to take a sip of wine and let it flow into my mouth through a kiss and bite my lip after.

Xavier

Type: Edging | Bondage | Spanking | Dacryphilia | Sadism

Alright I know you just read sadism and you wanna jump me now let me explain hold on HOLD ON! Relax! Put the bricks and tomatoes down let me explain. I can feel it in my BONE MARROW that Xavier knows how to perfectly mix pleasure and pain. He's literally likes it rough talking about some "You'll have to do it harder" bro imagine him being able to do it harder to his girl? HES ON THAT ! Man I kinda just wanna yap about him.

He would give you a safe word he would immediately stop if you use it don't worry. He's a calm cool collected Prince that fucks you like you're a slut. He doesn't give you a warning because he knows that you know better.

If you decided to test his patience and be a brat ALL DAY he's throwing you over his lap and spanking your ass until it's red while he's two knuckles deep inside of you and that's not even the main course.

He would tie your hands together (Just like he's threatened multiple times). He would definitely tie them to the headboard and he'd eat you until you're crying from pleasure, but no you're not allowed to cum yet. "You're so pretty like this" as he wipes your tears before going back to nip and bite at your thighs.

He would rag doll you as well untying you and flipping you over into doggy style and just teases you by rubbing his tip against your folds and just slightly pushing in before backing out and continuing his teasing giving your ass solid slaps when you push your hips back at him.

He would edge your soul out of you for hours and he's gonna wake you up a few hours later with his tongue after you fall asleep.

I need Xavier to rag doll me expeditiously.

Sylus

Type: Bondage | Spanking | Dacryphilia | Overstimulation | Breath Play

I know y'all have seen that one picture pose called "Dancing with you" and Sylus has his hand around your throat?????? What are we dancing to???? Are we naked????

Anyway....

Now maybe this is self indulgent but he's definitely using his evol to hold you in whatever position he wants you in. Since you couldn't listen to him we won't listen to you. He's two knuckles deep in you and is making you do all the work. He would have you ride his hand and make you work for it while he has the other wrapped around your throat cutting off your air and right when you cum he'd let go making you see stars.

Did he just make you experience euphoria?? You bet your ass he did.

He's not done with you though don't forget you were a brat throwing a fit in the middle of his meeting and couldn't keep your hands to yourself. He would eat you out till you're in tears "Keep your eyes on me" the second your head fell back in bliss he would stop causing you to snap your head up. "I gave you simple instructions sweetie" When you hit that point where you start trying to run from him he would stand up and tell you to "Keep it wet you know what to do" (Shout out Professor Cal) releasing only one of your hands and leaving to go finish his meeting.

YES! He would definitely tell his business call or whatever to give him a minute and he'd handle you then head back. Once he's done he's coming back and teasing you with his tip with his hand around your throat again. He doesn't mind spending the whole night taming you.

Side note: Sylus hates to see you cry .... unless you're crying from pleasure. "Fuck you're beautiful like this" he'd say and he'd kiss your tears as they run down your cheeks. Something about that dazed-euphoric look in your watery eyes and your wet cheeks gets his Ca-Cawk jumpin'!

I need Sylus to wrap those big ol hands around my throat and tell me "Relax you can take it princess"