#a man can only add so many tags before feeling desperate

[5-htagonist]

assorted in progress and sketched fellers with whom i have a freakstyle psychological obsession with

[wholoveseggs]

girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻

Forever

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡

Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.

Well, that's what you wanted to believe.

There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.

He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.

You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.

He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.

He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.

Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.

You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.

Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.

You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.

He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.

"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"

"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.

"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.

"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.

Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"

"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."

Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."

You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.

While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.

"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."

He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.

You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.

"Let's light her up!" you announced.

The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.

"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.

You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.

You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.

The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.

You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."

"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.

"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.

You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.

Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.

Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"

"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.

"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."

Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.

"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"

"Okay!"

The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.

You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.

"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."

"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.

"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."

"Oh?"

"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."

You flushed,  biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.

Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.

He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.

His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.

He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.

His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.

You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.

"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"

Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.

He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."

"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.

You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.

"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.

You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.

As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.

You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?

No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.

Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.

It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.

He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse. 

Just too good to be true.

Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.

"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.

"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.

Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."

"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.

"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.

"No," Elijah stated simply.

"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.

"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"

"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.

"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.

"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."

"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."

"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."

"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.

"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"

Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"

"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."

Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.

"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."

"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."

Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.

"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"

Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.

"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."

"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.

She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.

Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?

He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.

"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.

"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."

"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."

"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."

"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."

You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.

He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.

But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.

Because if you were gone, so was he.

You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.

He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.

"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.

"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.

"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.

"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."

"That's putting it lightly."

You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.

"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.

"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."

"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.

"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.

"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.

"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.

"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.

"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.

"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."

Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."

"And Elijah?" you asked.

Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."

"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."

You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.

Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.

We need to talk.

You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.

Tomorrow.

You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.

Elijah had texted you back.

Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.

You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.

Why are you sending a car?

A response came instantly.

It's a surprise.

You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.

Fine, give me 10 minutes.

Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.

You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.

Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning," you replied.

He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.

"What?" you asked.

"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."

You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."

"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.

You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"

"The airport," he replied.

"What? Why?" You were completely confused.

"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."

"Where are we going?"

"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.

"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.

"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."

"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."

He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.

You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.

As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.

"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.

"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."

You looked up at him and kissed him softly.

"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."

"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.

The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.

Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.

"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you yawned.

You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.

"Welcome to Positano," he said.

"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's magical," you gushed.

"Yes, it is."

The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.

You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.

The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.

The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.

"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.

"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.

Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.

You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.

You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.

"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.

"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.

"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."

"Eli-"

"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."

You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.

The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.

"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.

"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.

"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.

"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.

"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."

You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.

"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.

"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"

"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.

He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.

"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."

He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.

You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.

"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."

"I like the sound of that," you moaned.

"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.

His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.

You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.

"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.

He set you on your feet and turned the water on.

"We are covered in sand," he grinned.

The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.

The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.

He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.

"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.

You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.

"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.

Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.

But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.

"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.

He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.

You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.

He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.

"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.

His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.

"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.

"All of it," you said.

"Right here, up against the shower wall?"

"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.

He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.

He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.

He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.

"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.

"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.

He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.

His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.

Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.

"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.

He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.

Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.

He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.

"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.

"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.

"Not long enough," he smirked.

He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.

He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.

"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.

"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.

He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.

"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.

His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.

"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.

He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.

You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.

You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.

You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.

"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.

"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.

"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.

"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.

"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.

"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."

"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."

The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.

The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.

There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.

When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.

"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.

"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.

"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"

"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.

"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.

"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.

Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.

"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.

"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.

Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.

"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."

The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.

"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.

You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."

"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.

"Will you be my flower girl?"

She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"

You laughed and hugged her back.

Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.

You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.

"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.

"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.

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[ginkgo-phyta]

heyy do you write for hotch? If yes can I request a fic with hotch falling asleep on reader's shoulder on the jet. like there are so many fics with reader sleeping on his shoulder and he's all soft about it and lets her. how would the bau react to see their tough boss just cuddle up with his girlfriend after a long case (it can be established relationship or before that too). thanku!

A/N: im screaming HAHA i LOVE THIS! i made this an established relationship hehe i hope you enjoy, my love! 

tagged spencer reid x reader because i want more people to see this teehee pls dont hate me i have spencer fics yall should read if you havent already but also you should still read this too

fluff, BAU!reader, gender-neutral reader, mention of cannon type violence/hostage situation/nothing explicit or detailed, 1.8k words

“Hey, you okay?” Your tired eyes peered up at Aaron as he neared your seat on the jet, tie loosened and top button of his shirt undone. He had just gotten off the phone with the section chief, who, undoubtedly, scolded him as if he were a wayward adolescent. Although the smile he offered you in response was tight lipped and less-than-giving, his eyes told a different tale. They softened as they met yours, shedding their cold and hard façade to reveal a weary truth, littered with hints of desperation. 

This case had been long and grueling, tensions insurmountably higher than usual with Erin Strauss breathing down Hotch’s neck, scrutinizing every decision he and the rest of the team made. You barely got a chance to talk to Aaron about how he was doing, always being waved off by the older man with “We can talk later,” or “It doesn’t matter right now, let’s focus on the case,”. Begrudgingly, you obliged, understanding there was no point in pushing him. It would only add to his stress. Although the case was solved, the end was arduous. The unsub had taken a hostage and, with the rest of the BAU’s input, the negotiation tactics went a different way than what Erin deemed appropriate. 

A heavy sigh parted Aaron’s lips as he slumped into his seat, you could practically see steam of stress billowing off of him. “It’s fine, everything’s fine.” He spoke quietly, eyes closed, but you could tell he didn’t believe it to be true. 

“Strauss tear you a new one?” Rossi piqued from across the table. 

The unit chief huffed out a short laugh. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” Rossi just nodded at this, turning his attention back to his notepad. Hotch looked to the rest of his team as they settled into their desired spots, “Let’s all get some rest, alright?” 

Everyone wordlessly nodded, not having to be told twice. 

Aaron lazily turned his head to you with a book in your lap, “You, too, Agent.” He gave you a playfully pointed look.

You breathed out a quiet chuckle, “I will, don’t worry.” You shut the book and turned to give your beloved undivided attention, gazing into his suddenly undecipherable, deep hickory eyes. “You wanna talk about it?” 

He gently shook his head, eyelids feeling heavy as his blinks became slower and slower, “At home,” he whispered, your stomach doing a somersault at the notion. Aaron tried to fight sleep for just a few seconds longer, wanting to just stare at you for a bit.

You faced him, head leaned against the headrest, smile so warm and endearing. The way you chuckled at him was like getting a glimpse of heaven. He couldn’t wait to go home and have you all to yourself. The feeling of your arms wrapped around him was his life raft in the tumultuous storm of his emotions. It was hard for him to express what he was feeling all the time, but with you around his walls of reinforced concrete tumbled. Aaron gave you a small, sleepy smile.

Before he could say anything else, you spoke up. “Sleep,” it was a simple command, and the usually stubborn man melted into his seat at your word. 

You took a couple minutes longer to watch him immediately fall into a deep slumber, his breaths becoming deeper and longer, lips parted ever-so-slightly, eyebrows twitching here and there. With a breathy laugh, you fought the urge to reach up and caress his face and move the little stray strands of hair off of his forehead, still aware that your coworkers could witness such an intimate moment. The two of you had begun dating five months ago, but it wasn’t until three months later that you broke the news to the team. 

It had been a long time coming; for quite a while everyone knew about the feelings you harbored for your boss- even Hotch himself knew. You didn’t do a very good job of hiding it, taking every opportunity you could to blithely flirt with him. Some might just assume you did so in a similar way to how Penelope and Derek toy with each other, but the profilers knew in the back of their minds it wasn’t the case. Aaron fought you at first, pleading with you to stop calling him “handsome”, “big man”, or even “honey” in one case. You never gave in, though, buckling down on your efforts upon seeing the way he would chuckle caught off guard and almost blush in many instances. Slowly yet surely, he gave in to your teases. You burrowed your way into the stoic man’s heart, creating a place you would die before giving up. Aaron didn’t even realize it was happening until his world came crashing down on him one fateful evening. 

A routine questioning of a suspect had led to you getting held hostage, the man whose house you went to turning out to be the unsub. This had happened many times before in the history of the BAU, but for some reason Aaron was more on edge. There was no covert entrance into the home and the unsub refused to open up a line of communication with the agents, leaving everyone in the dark wondering what the state of your wellbeing was. Aaron had begun pacing back and forth in the tent they had set up outside the house you were being held in, hands held to his head. 

“Hotch, it’s going to be okay.” Derek stepped forward, trying to calm his superior’s nerves. 

“He’s right, Aaron.” Rossi piped in. “We’ve dealt with this before, we can fix this.”   

“No,” Hotch murmured back, “This isn’t the same. It’s not the same.” His pacing didn’t let up. “This is my fault, I should have told someone to go, too. I could have prevented this.”

The others held unspoken conversations within the glances they shared. 

“Hotch-” Emily tried to speak up, to convince him that wasn’t the case.

“NO!” He yelled suddenly, stopping in his tracks. “You don’t understand, I can’t lose them!” His voice was heavy with despair, eyes wide in anguish.

All eyes were trained on him, his coworkers at loss for words at the confession. 

“I can’t lose them…” Aaron mumbled this himself before roughly pushing out of the tent.

You smiled to yourself as you took a last glance towards the sleeping man next to you before turning back to your book. Safe to say, you were incredibly shocked when Aaron showed up on your doorstep in the dark of the night all those months ago, soaked in the rain, kissing you with a sense of urgency before you could even ask him what he was doing there. You bit your lip at the memory, but shook it out of your head to try and focus in on the jumbled words swimming in your lap. From the get-go, the two of you decided you would remain extremely professional around your coworkers, and you did just that. You stopped your teasing, for the most part at least, and made sure to never initiate physical contact on the job. Anyone that didn’t already know you were in a relationship would never have guessed. The most you allowed yourselves was sitting next to one another on the jet, just like you were doing now. 

An unintelligible murmur and huff sounding from your side drew your short-lived attention away from the delicate pages in front of you. Just as you were about to look over to Aaron and make sure he was okay, a heavy weight thumped onto your shoulder. His head. You were taken aback, a giggle slipping through your lips before you could help it. Your fingers flew up to your mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet as you noticed him shift a bit, making himself more comfortable. Sure, you’d accidentally fallen against Hotch’s shoulder in your sleep a couple times before the two of you entered a relationship, but never in a million years did you expect him to do the same to you. On the jet. In front of everyone. Of course, he couldn’t control his actions in his sleep, you reasoned. And maybe you should gently shrug him off to help retain his authority around the teasing profilers. But, this time, you fought off that thinking and gave in to your instinct. He had been so tense and strung out this entire case, you knew he needed this.

To hell with professionalism. You thought with a devilish grin, happy in your resolution. And so, you gently closed your book and slid it onto the table in front of you, trying your best to move as little as possible before leaning your head against his own and closing your eyes. With the gentle hum of the jet engines and the comforting sounds of Aaron’s breathing, you were lulled into a wonderful slumber in no time.

“Oh my God,” Emily breathed out, garnering the attention of Spencer who rested in the same group of seats as her. He looked up at her with one eye from where he was slumped over in his window seat, trying to get some shut-eye. 

“Huh?” the sleepy doctor grumbled, pushing himself a bit more upright when he noticed Emily looking at something on the other side of the jet, her face a mixture of shock and glee. 

The raven-haired agent began slapping Derek’s shoulder, who sat peacefully next to her with his eyes closed and headphones over his ears. His eyes flew open, looking over to Emily with annoyance as he took off his headphones, “What! What!”    

Immediately Emily shushed him, “Look!” she whispered, hand flying wildly in the air, eyes still unmoving. 

Derek followed her line of sight the scene before him pulling a laugh of disbelief from his lungs. “Well, well, well…” 

Emily’s hands covered her mouth in astonishment. “JJ!” she whispered over to the blonde who lay curled up on the sofa next to them. “Ugh,” she groaned quietly, unable to wake her coworker. 

“I can’t believe this,” she whispered mostly to herself, settling back in her seat, garnering a shake of Morgan’s head.

The view of their hard-headed unit chief sleeping peacefully on the shoulder of his subordinate, the latter’s head resting sweetly back on his was suddenly blacked by the side of Rossi’s body as he stuck his arm out, trying to get the best angle to immortalize this moment on camera.

“Good for them,” Morgan grinned, his voice proudly announcing his amusement as he put his headphones back over his head.

“Rossi, you better send me that!” Emily spoke up just a little bit louder, the old man looking back and motioning his phone towards her in acknowledgement.

“What? What!?” Spencer whisper-yelled, unsuccessfully craning his head above and between the seats to get a glimpse of what all the hubbub was about, “What are you guys looking at!?”    

“Penelope’s gonna flip,” Emily mumbled to herself, a teasing smile playing on her face as she looked down at the picture Rossi sent her. Without a second thought, she saved the photo onto her phone. They’re never gonna live this down.     

A/N: i hope you liked this!! i had a fun time writing it ehehe hotch is such a dilf, like an ACTUAL dilf im not even attracted to fathers but hotch?? all day, every day, baby!

[ruiniel]

Please ignore the previous ask! Forgot to add the details, sorry about that!

Menstruation kink with Jealous! Possessive!Alucard and a female reader, with a healthy dose of blood drinking if you know what I mean 👀

Welcome and I mentioned on another day that I was feeling emotional, so this turned out a hurt/comfort piece rather... wanted to explore something here. And even with all the Alucard-centered smut written so far, sometimes I find that self-restraint is hotter. 🖤

Scent

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x fem!reader

Rating: M

Count: 2k

Tags & Warnings: Alucard POV, Pining, Anxious possessive Alucard, blood kink, period kink, period pain, cramps, hurt/comfort, fluff, light smut, grinding/non-penetrative stimulation, implied period sex

A single drop splashes the window, followed by another, and another. 

He raises his gaze from the manuscript in his lap, lip curling involuntarily as rain pelts the castle walls. Head falling back against the old cushioned armchair, he stares emptily ahead.

A gray, rainy, cold day rusty November brought. The fireplace has gone out. He has no need for warmth—usually tends it only for you, and you are not here.

Where you should be, the darker thought riles; he forces it down. The tendency to own, to curl around his own, is instinctual, but he refuses to give it power. 

Still, this feels wrong. As much as Adrian tried, he failed to quench the desperation and fearful thoughts taking hold: thoughts of returning to before, when no other steps, no other heart thrummed within these walls. The connection between you still confuses him, yet frantic with the freshness of a new bond. And the delicate nature of its novelty often creates an impression of fragility, as if it needs to be handled with utmost care. He tries.

But, the fact is, you’d been avoiding him for the past few days. Adrian sensed a change, and could not pinpoint why, but you’d been more reclusive, skipped sharing the meals you usually cooked and ate together, and the night prior you had an actual argument. Now that hadn’t happened since the early days of your struggle to know one another. Such a trifle, over a meaningless, petty thing, and still he feels like a lowly cur, wishing he could undo it all.

You’d retreated, and he’s not seen a wisp of you since. He’d beg you on his knees to forgive him if only you would see and speak to him. The more base part of him misses you like a man does sweet water on an open ocean. So many questions, and they all lead to the same wretched fears: what if you realized you actually don’t care for him as you thought? What if you wanted to leave? What if you’d met someone else in the nearby town, someone whose spirit is less scarred, less of a struggle, less… work? 

Adrian snaps the manuscript shut in his lap, leaning forward, sighing into his palms. 

He’s better than this. Grinding his teeth here thinking of the worst probable outcome, when he should… If you truly want your solitude, he will respect that—but he needs to hear it from your own mouth.

Attempting to keep a clear mind when wading through the corridors is a chore, and dejection weighing on his steps the closer he is to the door of your chambers. As he reaches to knock, Adrian takes a deep breath. If only to know for certain. That is all.

One, two, three. 

There’s no reaction from within, though he knows you’re there. He can hear the blood surging through your veins, ordained by your pumping heart. Not asleep, either, as far as he can tell. 

Adrian presses his forehead against the wood, a palm gliding down the carved surface. Such sweet music, luxury to the senses. For moments, he merely listens, then gathers his courage. “It’s me. May we speak?” Time warps achingly slow with the silence. “... please?”

“I’m not well today.” Your voice, beyond the door, slow and drowsy. 

The worry that grips him drowns the relief of an answer. Adrian swallows. “How so? Can I help?”

“No.”

“... can I see you?” He tries, waiting and hoping.

Silence again. He frowns, righting himself, preparing for a reluctant retreat. 

“Come in.”

He need not be told twice, slowly pushing the heavy door open and closing it behind him.

He’s been here before, or rather you’ve been here together. Near a large window is a bed and on it you lie, your back turned to the door. He notices you’re huddled in heavy blankets, and looking to the opposite corner, sees the fireplace here is out as well, ashy and dark. 

He calls your name, which yields no movement from your end. Adrian nears, and whatever words he had die in his throat when he perceives the familiar, sweet scent of blood. Yours. “Are you hurt?” In two leaps he’s rounded the bed, wanting to see your face.

“No.”

You’re staring blankly ahead, and Adrian cannot determine much, but you appear unwell, like someone exhausted after a sleepless night. “Please, tell me, I can… I can sense it,” he kneels by the bed, one hand reaching to feel your temperature—higher than usual, but not concerning. And the scent…

You finally look at him with reddened eyes before closing them and sighing. “Adrian… I’ll be fine. I merely need a few days.”

“A few?...” he finds your hand—cold as ice. 

Unwell, apparently weak, the scent of blood and—

Ah.

“Oh, my poor dear,” he murmurs, understanding, remembering.

You groan softly. Adrian says nothing else but rises and heads over to the fireplace. He sets to light a flame, then feeds it, and repeats until heat and a healthy glow emit from that corner of the room, dancing along the green sheets of your bed. No matter he doesn’t feel the chill—with the way you were wrapped and curled, you most likely do. It also provides him with an engaging activity, diverting his attention from the intoxicating aroma of your moon days, a sensation he never anticipated, let alone found thrilling and… enticing?

Why now? You’d been living here for a while, and this never happened. Was it because you’ve shared yourself with him? He doesn’t know nearly enough about his own kind, apparently. 

Adrian leaves the room, wracking his memory on the way. He returns holding a tray with hot peppermint tea, a jug of water, and a bowl of harvested forest nuts. When he looks over to your bed, he sees you’d discarded the heavy blankets and are now sprawled there in your dark nightgown, your feet bare. It seems the chamber’s warmed now. 

He places the tray on the nightstand by your side as you follow his movements. 

“Adrian, you didn’t have to…”

“Shush,” he smiles, “Now, come, this’ll help,” he kneels by the bed, reaches for the teapot and fills a cup even as you drag yourself into a seated position facing him.

You take the warm drink from his hand, sip of the tea, sigh in relief. 

“Forgive me? For the other night,” he says, watching the face he loves, glad he’s doing something for you.

You reach and stroke his hair and Adrian watches you, eyes heavy lidded as your scent fills him again, emanating through your hand like a spell. His lips part in a soundless sigh. 

“I’m sorry too, I was… not at my best.”

“I understand, I do.” His eyes close as your fingers drift along his temple, his cheek, his jaw. “Do you wish me to leave?” 

“Of course not.” You look away. “I’m just... not very good company at the moment, as you can see.”

At that, he nuzzles into your hand, placing his own on your thighs as he rests with his head in your lap. He feels the caress of your fingers, and a deep yearning. He’s always been drawn to you, but now… “Believe me when I say I don’t care, as long as you’re here.” His heart is quickening, and he tries to control his breathing, palms rubbing your sides. Lust languorously weaves into emotions and devotion; thoughts of grasping those naked thighs while ramming into you intrude with vicious clarity, but he stays there, focusing on his breath, on you.

A whimper. “A-Adrian… your claws…”

His eyes snap open, and with conscious effort he retracts the talons he didn’t notice had grown. Adrian raises his head, slowly rises to his feet as you lie back down on the bed.

“Will you hold me?” you ask.

He could die here and now, gutted by the question and the look you’re giving him. He rounds the bed, removes his boots, and crawls over to your side, bringing you close enough that your back is pressed to his chest, his arm secured around your waist. “Are you in pain?”

“Ugh…” you nod, then take his larger hand and bring it to your lower abdomen. 

Without thinking, he presses into the softness of your flesh, while curling around your body until you’re flush against him.

“That feels good, you’re warm…” 

He runs slow, circular motions around your belly, trying to soothe the cramping ache of your body. “There, there,” a kiss to your ear, “It will pass,” a kiss to your neck. 

His hand glides to your thigh, legs tangling with yours. If only he could melt into you—yes, that’s what it feels like. There’s nothing closer to describe it. And what a selfish fool he’d been, thinking of his own fear and misery, while here you were. More kisses, short, more like soft pecks on the skin of your neck, your shoulder.

Your hand glides over his own as he runs it over your abdomen again, your lower body arching into his.

A soft groan escapes him. His chest is heaving when you turn, offering your mouth—soft lips, tasting of peppermint. He kisses them. Eyes fluttering closed, Adrian sucks on your flesh with quiet abandon, wanting you and wanting you and wanting you.

“Mmh—” you sever the kiss, staring at him with half a smile on your face. Your hips are slotted against his, and you surely feel the hardness of him against your softness. “You… enjoy this?” you ask.

For a moment, he feels shamed: he’d failed to control his own body, let himself be swept by need, and you’re hurting, so this is the last you might want. “I… yes,” he admits. “It does things to me. You, like this… but what about you?”

You stare at him, smile, and kiss him again, to his surprise. “I need you close.”

The warmth of the fire blazes in the room, hot enough that he can bare your shoulder and more, not breaking your gaze as he cups a tender breast in his hand. You partly turn towards him when Adrian leans to take the hard nub between his lips, sucking with relish, hand moving down to tenderly massage warmth into your abdomen, hips grinding slowly against yours through the thin night shift. Your soft moans spur him on, and soon your skin glistens from the heat and the added attention he gives your body.

He imagines it’s your hot cunt he’s feeling when he thrusts against your clothed form, become harder and tenser by the moment, until something gradually coils in him and the steady movement, the sweetness of your taste as he licks into your mouth and the scent, god the scent…

It’s not enough, it’s too much, it’s—he moans hotly into your skin, lips pressed to your shoulder when the flare of pleasure bursts within, swaying his vision; holds on to your hip, hugs you closer as he deliriously cums in his trousers.

“... fuck.”

All he’s able to say. He would eat into you and hide into you and this is not the outcome he expected, but then he’s weak and needy, and doesn’t deserve you. 

But you’re smiling, lips plush from his kisses. “That much, really?”

A nod, his face buried into your neck. “Everything about you is… divine.”

You fall into silence as Adrian kisses your cheek, then reluctantly disentangles himself from you to leave the chamber. He returns after a short while to feed the fireplace before he joins you again, taking you in his arms. The flames crack and layer a golden sheet over you both.

“You know…”

“Yes?” He’s still drunk on you, high on the primordial state of afterglow and the intimacy of your nearness, the visceral need to keep you safe and protected, especially now.

“I’ve heard of another way to help ease some of the discomfort,” you say and sit up in bed, gazing down at him. 

“Oh?” 

In your eyes dwells a spark, and suddenly Adrian feels your want, feels it beating in your womb. Slowly you straddle him as he lies prone on the bed, gathering the nightgown around your bare legs, his hands already on your hips. 

“I have need of you also, Adrian… if you want to!” you add swiftly.

A long, heavy breath escapes him. “God… yes,” Adrian leads you down to him, kisses you deeply, licking at the softness of your tongue. He’s slow to turn until you’re the one on your back with your legs crossed around his hips. He grins, already hard again from the mere thought of it, resting his forehead against yours. “Let’s… help you… feel better.”

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Boss

You’re a menace

ceo!jisung x overworked admin!minho

Trigger warnings: none that i know of!

Content warnings: oral, light nipple play, praise, begging, dirty talk, a little hair pulling, finger fucking, names (babe, baby, angel), jisung's a bit of a tease (what else is new), minho gets desperate

Summary: the morning after proves to be just as eventful

Word count: 7599

A/N: omg hi babies ❤️💙 it’s been so long!! shoutout to rae for keeping me online for more than two days this time, you’re a real one. thank you all for your patience while i continue to sort myself and become a functioning member of society again. i’ve got some stuff planned and i’m continuing to work hard to put together more stories for your enjoyment. i'm also redoing my tag list so please don't hesitate to reach out and i'll happily add you!! anyways, follow me here and check out my main!! hard thoughts are always welcome, as are dms. i’d love to make friends with you all!! much love ❤️💙

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

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Smut below the cut

Jisung stretched his arms over his head and let out a groan of appreciation before allowing himself to relax back into the sheets, the early morning light filtering into the dim room. Like every morning, visions of Minho danced in his mind as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Unlike every morning, they were memories instead of fantasies.

“That’s right, take it all. Just like that…”

His body ached deliciously, he realized, and he found himself wanting to milk the situation. He was sure he could get Minho to baby him if he pouted enough.

So he finally opened his eyes and rolled onto his side, only to find himself alone in the bed. He sat up immediately, starting to panic. Then he heard the kitchen sink cut on and let out a sigh. He sank back down onto the pillows and stared at the wall, still groggy. He was debating getting up when he heard the sink cut off and Minho walking towards the bedroom.

The door opened to reveal the older man in a simple pair of sweats, carrying a tray filled with food. “Oh, you’re up.” He smiled and Jisung’s heart jumped into his throat.

“Yeah.” He nodded, sitting up again and rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“A little after six.” Minho hummed as he placed the tray on the nightstand and circled the bed to sit on the opposite side. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a rock.” Jisung smiled to himself and picked up the glass of orange juice that sat on the tray, taking a gulp before glancing at the man beside him. “You?”

“It was the best sleep I’ve had in months.” He hummed and leaned back against the headboard, crossing his legs at the ankle. “I don't recall the last time I did anything so physically draining.” He chuckled, turning his head to look at Jisung, who was now happily munching on a slice of toast. “How do you feel?”

There was his opening to get taken care of.

“Sore.” He pouted adorably, a tiny piece of bread still sticking halfway out of his mouth. “I don’t think I can even move.”

Minho’s heart skipped a beat at the sight but he recovered quickly and rolled his eyes playfully. “Well you’re gonna have to because we have work in a couple hours.”

Jisung frowned at the lack of doting and finished chewing the food in his mouth before speaking again. “So you’re not gonna baby me or anything?”

“Are you a baby?” Jisung’s frown deepened and Minho laughed quietly. “Well you did call me daddy last night…”

“That was an accident, I slipped up! Stop teasing me!” Minho only laughed harder at Jisung’s indignance and leaned towards him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t want to. It’s fun messing with you like this.” Jisung immediately clammed up at the proximity and Minho continued, leaning in further until they were almost nose to nose. “Besides, it was hot. I wanna hear you say it again.”

“No way!” The younger protested despite the way his heart rate spiked in excitement.

“You’d dare to deny me anything I ask for after how many times I made you cum last night?” The corners of his eyes crinkled as his grin betrayed his tone, proving he was far from bothered by this interaction. Once more, Jisung was struck by Minho’s beauty. The proximity made his heart beat so fast he worried he might pass out. His mind raced just as quickly and his cheeks heated up as more memories of the previous night flooded his head. Minho took Jisung’s silence as embarrassment and pulled back, nudging the hand that held the unfinished toast. “Eat. We have to leave soon if you still wanna stop for coffee on the way back to yours.”

Jisung quickly pulled himself from his thoughts and nodded despite his disappointment at things not escalating. When the last bite of bread was halfway to his mouth, he paused. “You know…” he started as Minho made to get off the bed. “You never let me blow you last night.”

Minho paused with one leg hanging off the bed, trying to ignore the blood rushing to his dick. “You’re right.” He hummed, trying to sound casual. If he got his hands on Jisung before they made it out of bed, they wouldn’t be going to work at all. One glance over his shoulder told him that was exactly what was gonna happen.

“I want to.” It wasn’t a request or a demand, it was simply a fact. He wanted to inhale Minho’s cock and he had from the moment he met him.

“And I want you to eat your breakfast.” He fired back. He’d wanted those pretty lips wrapped around his dick for even longer than Jisung had but he was worried what people might say if both of them were late to or even missed work. It was no secret that Jisung wanted Minho. The older man had already gotten plenty of side-eye just for being the object of their boss’s obsession. Any inkling that their suspicions had come true would make him a pariah.

“What if I’d rather have you for breakfast?” Jisung challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Jisung…” He warned, cock already twitching to life despite his best efforts to ignore it. He needed to get out of this bed and get in the shower. Now.

“Minho...” He sighed, dropping the last of the toast back on the plate and turning to face him. “Listen, I already know what you’re thinking. I know you’re worried about what will happen if people find out. To tell you the truth, I don’t really care if people know. You are my favorite in the office, everyone already knows that. They have eyes.” Minho opened his mouth to protest but Jisung didn’t stop so he settled back into his previous position. “But I know it’s bothering you and I’m not gonna let anything bad happen. I can’t just go around firing people for mistreating you for something I quite literally begged for so obviously I’m not gonna let anyone know. If we’re late, you can drop me off across the street and take a lap around the block so we aren’t walking in together. I will figure something out but can we please fool around just a little while longer?”

Minho’s cheeks were flushed a soft pink by the time Jisung was finished speaking. Who was this man in front of him? The Jisung he knew was desperate and cocky, not careful and considerate. His cockiness was one of the things that turned Minho on. But something about the way Jisung was trying to do right by him made his insides feel funny.

His response was simple. He didn’t speak and opted instead to pull the younger man onto his lap. Jisung’s breath hitched at the small display of strength as if he hadn’t been manhandled by this man multiple times within the last twelve hours. His hands rested comfortably on Minho’s shoulders as he settled down, taking notice of the bulge pressing against his ass.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You didn’t ask last night.” Minho offered a wry smile as he pulled Jisung into him.

The younger man rolled his eyes but pressed his lips to Minho’s instead of arguing back that Minho hadn’t exactly asked about a few things he did last night either. It felt nice kissing Minho. His lips were soft and inviting and Jisung decided at that moment that he could die happy if he got to kiss Minho for the rest of his life. He was being presumptuous, of course. You couldn't decide you’d spend your life with someone after spending a single night with them. But he could indulge in his delusions for a little while. Who could it really hurt?

Minho’s tongue slipped into his mouth and he let out a soft whine, grinding down against him. The squeeze on his hips was a subtle warning to slow down lest he lose the opportunity to blow Minho in favor of getting fucked again. To Minho’s surprise, Jisung took the warning for what it was and stilled his hips, sucking on the older man’s tongue instead.

Minho let out a surprised moan and squeezed Jisung’s bare ass, arching into him when his fingers ghosted over his chest. Jisung was delighted by how responsive Minho was and fought back a grin when the older man moaned pathetically at a light pinch to his nipples. He didn’t say anything as his lips trailed to Minho’s jaw, just continued to manipulate his body until the bulge pressing against his ass was entirely unignorable. His own dick was rock hard as he licked and sucked on Minho’s neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of spit behind.

He was careful not to leave any marks above the collar for Minho’s sake but he certainly didn’t shy away from trying to fluster him. “Beautiful…” He whispered as he pulled back to admire the red mark on Minho’s shoulder. Immediately, the man beneath him flushed red, giving him another surge of courage. “I like when you blush for me.”

“I thought you were a bottom.” Minho retorted, afraid to lose the upper hand.

“Are bottoms not allowed to appreciate the effect they have on tops?” He rolled his eyes, pinching Minho’s nipples again and earning another weak moan.

“Whatever…” He mumbled, watching as Jisung leaned down to lick his chest. It was then that he noticed just how hard the younger man was. His cock was an angry red as it strained between them and Minho saw that as his opportunity to take control again. He’d planned on caving and telling Jisung to just blow him already, but seeing his stiff cock made him rethink that plan. Instead, he wrapped one hand around Jisung’s dick while the other gave his ass a rough squeeze. Jisung’s hips canted forwards in response and he made a small noise as he lapped at one of Minho’s nipples while pinching the other.

Both of them were getting pathetic after a few minutes of this back and forth, Jisung lightly biting Minho’s nipples and Minho tugging Jisung’s dick in response. Jisung refused to give in. He couldn’t let Minho fuck him without first getting a taste of his beautiful cock.

Finally, Minho surrendered. “Just fucking blow me already, Jisung, oh my god.” He groaned, both frustrated and unbelievably turned on. How had he gotten so worked up from a twink toying with his nipples?

Because it’s not just any twink, it’s Jisung.

“Thank fuck. I was going crazy.” Jisung laughed breathlessly and quickly moved down the bed, lapping up the smear of precum he’d left on Minho’s belly. He quickly removed Minho’s sweats and bit his lip when his dick sprung free and slapped against the very same area he’d just licked. “Now that I’m getting a closer look, every inch of you is beautiful…” he mused, wrapping a hand around the base and looking up at Minho through his lashes.

“Shut up…” Minho grumbled, flustered at how quickly Jisung had turned the tables. No, Jisung didn’t plan to top, but the fact that he had Minho in shambles was borderline terrifying to Minho. It wasn’t rare for him to be at the mercy of another but it was extremely rare for him to be this much of a mess, especially just from foreplay.

“I don’t wanna.” Jisung hummed, giving a gentle squeeze as he licked the tip. He took note of the way Minho’s lips parted further in a silent gasp. “I like playing with you.” He grinned and Minho felt something jump inside him. “Maybe it’s the brat in me but I wanna be a tease. I think it’s cute seeing you like this after how rough you were last night.”

“You’re gonna regret this next time, Ji- oh fuck-” he couldn’t finish his sentence as the younger man swallowed him whole. Jisung’s mouth felt perfect, like it was made for sucking cock - his cock. Warm, wet, and able to take his full length without gagging. It was dizzying.

Jisung felt pride swell in his chest as he looked up through his lashes and saw Minho’s jaw already hanging slack. His hand moved from Minho’s dick to knead at the soft flesh of his thigh, nose pressing against his pelvis, and he heard a low groan above him. God he’d wanted this for so long…

He felt a hand in his hair and swallowed as Minho held him in place. “Fuck, Ji…” he all but hissed at the way Jisung’s throat constricted around him. To make things more difficult for Minho, Jisung shook his head and the older man’s body went rigid. He hollowed his cheeks as he pulled off for air, sucking hard until he finally released him with a pop. “Where the fuck did you learn that?” Minho asked breathlessly.

Jisung was practically glowing at that point, about to lose his own mind over the way Minho was reacting to him. It was such a simple motion and he’d never known anyone to go insane over it so the fact that Minho, the hard-to-get man he’d wanted to bang since the moment they met, was already about to go feral was more than a little gratifying.

“Probably the internet.” He shrugged and licked a fat stripe from the base to the tip before pausing. “And I thought I told you not to call me Ji last night.”

“I’m sorry I blanked when you put my whole dick in your mouth?” Minho sounded incredulous and Jisung just laughed as his tongue swirled around the tip. “How is that the thing on your mind when you’ve got me balls deep in your fucking face?”

“Well maybe I want you to use my full name. I already told you I like it.” He huffed adorably before suckling on the side. He grinned at the soft gasp he earned and briefly sucked on his balls before peppering kisses all the way back to the tip.

Minho allowed his eyes to slip shut as Jisung flicked his tongue back and forth over the underside of the head. Despite having gone six rounds last night and being utterly exhausted, Minho was still unbelievably horny. He wanted to stay in bed with Jisung all day, fucking like rabbits and only stopping for water, but he couldn’t and it was frustrating him. How was he supposed to get this out of his system in time for work?

Jisung took advantage of Minho’s lack of attention and took him all the way once more, internally cheering at the choked gasp that came from above him. This time, though, he didn’t stay in place very long. He pulled back to the tip, only to swallow him whole once more. He repeated his actions, bobbing his head rhythmically to earn a symphony of surprisingly pitiful moans. What happened to the demanding man who took control of Jisung’s body and damn near forced compliance the night before?

Jisung’s thoughts wandered further and his fingers moved of their own accord. At first, they teased Minho’s balls, enhancing the heavenly sensation that he was experiencing. Then, when he was entirely relaxed despite being so high strung, they traveled further and ghosted over his hole. Immediately, Minho grabbed Jisung’s wrist to stop him as a strange tingle of anxiety slithered up his spine. “Don’t.” He croaked weakly, eyes opening just enough to find Jisung’s gaze.

He wasn’t afraid of bottoming, he’d bottomed plenty of times in the past and loved every second of it. But he couldn’t bottom for Jisung. Not when he wanted to maintain control. Something inside of him needed to be in control when it came to the man currently kitten-licking the tip of his dick. He needed to be the one in charge so Jisung could take a break from the pressure of having to be the boss and just relax. He had to take care of him, not the other way around.

“One day.” Jisung hummed as soon as he pulled off to breathe. He was entirely unbothered by Minho’s protest, not seeing the nervousness in the older man’s expression. He wasn’t all that serious about getting Minho to bottom for him but if he decided he wanted to, he knew he could. He always got his way in the end.

Minho responded only with a scoff as he released Jisung’s wrist, melting back into the pillows when the younger relented. The hand on his dick forced away every thought that wasn’t about Jisung or what he was doing and his eyes closed once more. Again, Jisung used the opportunity to catch him by surprise and reached up to pinch his nipple as he suckled on the head of his cock.

Minho’s pathetic sound made his dick twitch and he groaned around the cock in his mouth, eyes rolling back. Part of him hated how hot this was because he feared he may never be this attracted to anyone else ever again.

His thoughts were disrupted by Minho’s hand tangling in his hair and shoving him down on his dick. They both moaned weakly as Minho guided Jisung’s head, body jerking each time his nipples were so much as grazed. He was somewhat disappointed when Jisung’s fingers left his chest but he was quickly pacified by the way his balls were fondled.

Minho felt the heat pooling in his belly begin to spread through his entire body as he got closer to the edge. His face and chest were flushed a pretty rose color as his pulse thrummed in his ears. He was so fucking close. He just needed…

“Jisung-” Minho groaned as he grabbed the younger man’s hand and pulled it back up his body. Jisung immediately understood and would’ve smirked if not for the dick in his mouth. Minho was cute when he was desperate.

However, he decided to be a tease. He pretended not to know what was being asked of him and raked his nails down Minho’s chest, watching with glee as the older man shuddered. “Don’t- ah- don’t do this…” Minho practically whined and Jisung felt his dick throb. “You know what I meant.”

“Do I?” He asked as soon as he pulled off. Okay, maybe he did want a little control. Who could blame him though? Minho was quiet, lethal. And currently, he was a fucking mess over a blow job.

“Jisung…” He frowned, annoyed at the way he was being toyed with.

“What?” He feigned innocence, fingertips tracing random shapes on Minho’s side.

“You know what I want.”

“Mm I do.” He hummed with a smug grin. “But I wanna hear you say it.”

“Don’t make me beg you, Jisung, I already have to suck up to you at work.”

He seemed close to throwing a tantrum and Jisung huffed in amusement. He finally knew how to get under Minho’s skin. Minho, the only man who could tame Jisung’s brattiness, wanted instant gratification and hated begging. Jisung wasn’t the only selfish one.

“You know, I didn't intend to make you beg, I was just having fun messing with you. But now that you’ve given me the idea, I think I wanna hear you beg for me.” Who knows if I’ll be in any position of power like this again? Gotta milk this while I can. He added mentally.

Everything was silent for a moment and when Minho didn’t immediately give in, Jisung swallowed his disappointment and hurriedly wrapped his lips back around the gorgeous cock before him. At least he’d still gotten to blow him and would finally know what he tasted like. But his hands still didn’t move and Minho’s resolve crumbled quickly.

Okay, just this once…

“Jisung, please…” his voice was almost undetectable but Jisung managed to pick up on it and worked a little faster. “I’m so fucking close, I just need-” he cut himself off and tugged at Jisung’s hands again, disappointment painted on his face when he still didn’t get what he wanted. “I need you to do it again, Jisung. Please. It’s not the same if I do it myself. It feels fucking amazing when you do it and I’m gonna cum if you do it again.” He hated begging but he needed the stimulation.

Jisung was frozen in place, pupils blown wide with lust as he looked up at Minho’s humiliated expression. He’d spent months trying to get Minho to say a nice word to him and now he was begging for mercy. “Was that so hard?” He teased as he reached up and twisted both of Minho's nipples, earning a glare despite the obvious pleasure showing on his face.

“Shut up…” he mumbled before another yelp was pulled from him when Jisung pinched him again, lips ghosting over the tip of his dick. “Oh fuck- keep doing that, oh my god, I’m so fucking close.” The begging was effortless and shameless this time, though he knew he’d regret it later.

Finally satisfied with Minho’s response, Jisung pressed his tongue into the slit before looking up at him. “Cum for me. I just know you’re gonna look so pretty…”

Humiliated by Jisung’s words but too close to ecstasy to argue, Minho complied. He let go, arching into Jisung’s touch as he came undone. White hot pleasure flooded his body, like lava in his veins as his entire body jerked with the force of his orgasm.

Jisung was quick to catch everything in his mouth, moaning loudly at the taste. He continued to toy with Minho’s nipples and give his full attention to the pulsing cock in his mouth until the older man had to push him away as he quickly became overstimulated. Jisung reluctantly released the man beneath him and got up on his knees, opening his mouth to show that he’d swallowed everything.

Minho lay panting as Jisung forced his way into his arms and they both spoke at the same time.

“That was so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot.”

“If you play with me like that again, I’m ruining you.”

Minho could take neither the teasing nor the praise Jisung seemed so eager to dole out. Jisung was thrilled to have gotten under his skin. Neither of them wanted to let this go, but for very different reasons.

Jisung was surprised at the hostility he sensed and froze just as Minho wrapped his arms around him. “I’m so sorry. I got carried away. You were clearly flustered the entire time and then I lost all common sense and kept pushing until you begged.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I want to apologize. I was doing too much. I mean, you never so much as hinted at wanting me to finger fuck you and I was about to. I was entirely dazed and let myself lose control.”

“Oh my god, Jisung, stop talking. Just give me a minute to think.” Minho squeezed his arms around Jisung to emphasize his point as he regained clarity.

Jisung went quiet and watched Minho’s face as he processed what had just happened. He was starting to feel guilty. He was used to being coaxed into begging, being forced to submit in every way imaginable. He doubted Minho had ever submitted once in his life. His personality was just so dominant and he was clearly well-versed in taming brats like Jisung.

“I have never experienced anything like that.” Jisung felt his fears being confirmed and averted his gaze but listened, bracing himself for the chastisement. “It was humiliating to be put in that role by you of all people.” His heart sank further and he prepared to back away, hands already pressing on Minho's chest. “I’ve bottomed plenty of times, though never for someone I’ve previously topped, and I’ve never had such a mind-blowing orgasm.” Wait. Pause. He wasn’t mad? “Consider this your warning: if you try to make that a regular thing, I will make you pay.” Oh. Maybe he was… “But right now I’m gonna fuck you because holy shit, babe.” He finished, groaning as he buried his face in Jisung’s neck and took a deep breath of his scent.

“You’re…not mad?” He asked quietly, already tipping his head back to bare his throat to the older.

“I’m too fucking horny to be mad right now.” The way his voice dipped made Jisung’s dick twitch back to life. The fear of having fucked up had killed his boner but all it took was one soft bite below his earlobe and his raging hard-on was back. “I’m still gonna make a mess of you but don’t think too hard about it. It’s not a punishment. I’m just fucked up right now, baby.”

He simply nodded in response and let Minho flip them over, sighing when his back hit the sheets. He was still naked from the night before so their dicks rubbed deliciously against each other while Minho attacked his neck and he couldn’t stifle a moan. Seeing his reaction to the simple touch, Minho reached between them and took both of their cocks in one hand, slowly stroking them together as he sucked a mark into Jisung’s shoulder. He was dumbfounded by how hard he still was after how hard he came but he certainly wasn’t mad about it.

Another soft moan tumbled from Jisung’s lips and Minho pulled back to look down at him, rolling his hips for more friction. Jisung’s eyes were already closed, his lips parted as his breathing grew ragged. Minho hadn’t taken the time to fully appreciate him last night, having only wanted to force him into submission and fuck the attitude right out of him. Now that he was looking at him… “You’re so pretty, baby…” he whispered, watching as Jisung’s cheeks flushed pink.

The younger man opened his eyes and pouted adorably at the compliment. “Shut up.” He whined and Minho laughed.

“Oh come on, we both know you thrive on praise just like you lose your damn mind over being degraded.” He rolled his eyes and Jisung froze. He wasn’t sure how to act now. Last night, Minho had absolutely wrecked him, broken him down in a matter of minutes, but now he was seeing an entirely different side of him and was confused. “Take the compliment so we can move on.”

Jisung nodded slowly, cautiously, and frowned as Minho released their cocks. He was on the verge of protest when Minho pressed their lips together in a surprisingly gentle kiss and allowed his hands to ghost up Jisung’s sides. He gasped against Minho's lips, hands flying to his shoulders.

He eagerly parted his lips when he felt Minho's tongue seeking entrance, one hand sliding to tangle in the older man’s silky tresses. Minho’s hands wandered as his tongue explored Jisung’s mouth, catching a taste of himself just before he retreated. He wanted to make out but there was a more pressing issue to attend to.

Jisung frowned when Minho pulled away but his disappointment was quickly replaced with a dizzying wave of desire as kisses were trailed down his body. His dick was already leaking at the thought of what could happen next and he shuddered when he felt soft kisses pressed to his hips. Minho’s next statement made his whole body threaten to shut down.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw your picture. Wanted to suck your dick, eat you out if you’d let me. God, I could do that for hours…”

Jisung shuddered at Minho’s words and the way his warm breath fanned across his dick. He desperately wanted that. But he knew they were running out of time. “Next time.” He moaned breathily. “When we don’t have anywhere to be, you can take as long as you want with me.” He assured him, nodding enthusiastically. He wished they could afford to do it right then but he knew better.

“Already planning to spend the night with me again?” Minho teased, half expecting Jisung to clam up at the realization that he’d been caught making plans.

“Is that an invitation? Cause I’ll show up if you’re serious.” Jisung lifted his head, looking down just in time to see Minho licking his lips. Their gazes met and Jisung stifled a gasp at the intensity he saw in Minho's eyes.

“You better take your ass home and pack a bag after work because you won’t be leaving until Monday morning if you intend to show up at my door tonight.” He only broke eye contact to duck his head, lips pressing briefly to the tip of Jisung’s cock. “I’ll take my time going down on you and eating your sweet ass. Make you cum so many times you black out. You won’t be able to leave the bed even if you want to because your legs won’t work.”

Holy shit… His whole body lit up as he let out a weak moan, the tantalizing burn of arousal tingling through every inch of him. The thought alone made his eyes roll back and his toes curl. I’ll eat your ass too, if you let me.

“What’s that, baby?”

“Hmm?” Jisung was entirely dazed, imagining how their weekend would go, and hadn’t realized he’d spoken his thoughts.

“You said something.”

“Oh.” His cheeks flushed red as he came back to reality, no longer entirely dazed due to his own mortification. Had he really said that out loud? “It’s not important.”

“Tell me.” Minho’s voice was sultry as he coaxed the younger man, lips ghosting over Jisung’s hips while one hand slowly worked his cock.

“But-”

“Please?” Jisung whimpered at Minho’s pleading expression, suddenly hating that he’d managed to get Minho to beg earlier because now he was weaponizing it.

“I-I said I’d do the same if you’d let me…” He mumbled, cheeks blazing. He looked anywhere but at the man between his legs, worried he’d be upset after warning Jisung against toying with him.

Minho could only laugh, pressing his lips to Jisung’s thigh after a moment. “You’re persistent. Do you really wanna top me that bad?”

“Yes- I mean no…I dunno, maybe?” He whined, wiggling under Minho's touch. “It's hard to think when you’re playing with my dick.” He huffed.

“Should I stop?”

“No!” He hated how panicked he sounded.

“That’s what I thought.” Minho chuckled and nipped at his thigh, earning a whimper. “We can finish that conversation tonight. Right now, I need to…” his voice trailed off and he licked up the vein that ran along the underside of Jisung’s dick.

“Yes. Yes, you do- oh my god.” Jisung let his head fall back into the pillows and tangled a hand in Minho's hair as he wrapped his lips around the head. He tugged gently at the silky locks, trying to guide Minho to take more of him, but didn’t force it when he felt resistance.

Minho’s approach was to focus on the tip while his hands worked the rest. He couldn’t throat dick as well as Jisung. He knew he actually had a gag reflex, even if only a mild one, so he opted to take a more teasing approach.

He sucked hard and Jisung made a pathetic noise, back arching slightly. Satisfied with the reaction, he pulled off to kiss and suck along the side instead. The barely-audible whine of protest had him digging his thumb into the slit in an attempt to quell Jisung’s neediness.

Jisung’s hips jerked back in response in a feeble attempt to keep his composure. A small yelp tumbled from his lips, morphing into a moan when Minho sucked on his balls. A knot settled in the pit of his belly and he knew he wouldn’t last long, especially if Minho was about to do what he thought.

He allowed his legs to be pushed up, quickly hooking them over the older man’s shoulders when prompted, and felt as if he was sinking further into the bed upon feeling Minho’s tongue flatten against his hole. “Please…” He let out a reedy moan, tugging at Minho's hair as he tried his damndest to hold still. He felt nails biting into his skin as his ass was squeezed with one hand and his dick throbbed in Minho's grasp.

Each pass of Minho’s tongue made his body more tense as he fought to remain composed. It was damn near impossible with the onslaught of pleasure. After what felt like eternity but could only have been a couple minutes, he felt Minho pull back a bit. He whined but was quickly pacified when he felt a long finger pressing into him.

The older man seemed frenzied as he worked Jisung open, the lewd sounds of Minho sucking one of the prettiest dicks he’d ever seen filling the room and making them both hotter. He wanted to slow down but he was entranced, hellbent on making the younger cum before he actually fucked him.

Jisung’s breathing was labored as Minho sucked harshly on the tip while pumping two fingers inside him, occasionally curling them to brush against his prostate. He was embarrassingly close to letting go despite Minho barely doing anything. It had been less than five minutes and his legs were already shaking. So he declared that.

“Oh fuck- ‘m so close-” he cried, pulling at Minho’s hair while his free hand bunched up the sheets.

Minho pulled off for a moment, curling his fingers to make up for the absence of his mouth, and took in Jisung’s expression. His eyes were squeezed shut, his brows drawn down, and his pillowy lips hung open in a small “o” shape. “Then cum for me, baby.” He urged, his voice strained.

Jisung needed no further convincing and the second Minho's lips were back around the head of his cock, his back arched off the bed before his entire body jerked as the band in his belly finally snapped. The sounds he let out were worthy of being recorded and shared with the world. His dick throbbed as ropes of hot cum filled Minho’s mouth and he made a pathetic noise at the thought of Minho swallowing everything.

Minho did just that, groaning at the taste as he drained every last drop from Jisung. As Jisung came down from his high, Minho peppered kisses along his hips, earning soft gasps every few seconds. There was that urge not to leave the bed again…

Finally, he pulled back. Jisung whimpered in dismay at the loss of contact, his bleary eyes opening slowly. He wanted more. He watched as the older man started to get up and frowned. “Minho-”

“Wait.” His voice was soft as he delivered the simple command and Jisung’s mouth instantly snapped shut. His eyes followed Minho as he crawled to the edge of the bed and plucked the bottle of lube from where it had been dropped on the floor the previous night.

Jisung felt a rush of arousal at the sight of the bottle and his teeth began to weather his bottom lip in anticipation as memories flooded his mind. He wanted nothing more than to be filled. He could feel the ghost of Minho's touch as he recalled the events of the night before and he found himself fighting the urge to drag Minho back on top of him.

Minho was quick to settle on his knees between Jisung’s legs, uncapping the bottle and squeezing a ridiculous amount into his palm. “You’re a menace, Han Jisung.” He groaned as he spread the lube all over his dick. Jisung pouted at that but didn’t get a chance to ask why Minho was being mean again. “I came six times last night, I shouldn’t be so worked up.”

Jisung’s disappointment quickly shifted to pride and he couldn’t stifle the soft laugh that slipped out. “I’m a menace? Maybe you’re just desperate.” He quipped, expecting a retort full of fake venom. That’s not what he got though.

“Oh I definitely am. I’ve wanted a piece of you since before we actually met.” He admitted as he squeezed a little more lube onto his fingers and pressed them against Jisung’s entrance, massaging. Jisung’s eyes widened briefly before they rolled back and he let out a withering moan. Minho smirked, satisfied with the reaction. As soon as the words left his mouth, he’d been worried that Jisung would hold it over him. Instead, the younger man simply keened.

While Jisung was distracted, Minho took the opportunity to press the head of his thick cock to his hole. Eyes that had slipped shut were suddenly wide open and full of want. Seeing just how desperate Jisung was becoming, Minho refrained from pushing in and leaned down instead. His messy hand wrapped around Jisung’s dick as their lips met, eating up the frustrated noise the younger let out.

“Minho…” he moaned into the kiss, hands naturally coming to rest on Minho’s shoulders. The slide of their lips lit a fire under his skin and his toes curled. He tried to wiggle his way onto Minho's cock and made a distressed noise when he couldn’t. “Put it in. Please?” He whined, pulling back to make eye contact.

What he saw made his heart race. Minho looked at him with wonder and admiration, so many unspoken praises behind his eyes. He looked at Jisung as if he’d hung the stars in the sky. At least, that’s what Jisung interpreted it as.

“You’re cute when you’re desperate.” He teased, no malice present in his tone. His voice sounded sweet, like honey.

“Please…” Jisung whispered, something catching in his throat and rendering him incapable of uttering anything more. Maybe he was delusional, maybe it was just the sex, but he swore he saw affection somewhere in that gaze.

“Adorable.” A lazy smile spread across Minho’s lips as he brought them to meet Jisung’s once more and guided his length into the younger man. They ate up each other’s sounds, their kisses already drunk and sloppy.

Minho was big and filled Jisung perfectly. Jisung decided on the spot that this was a sign from the universe that they were meant for each other. Who else could make him feel like this? He’d certainly never encountered anyone as perfect as Minho.

Minho began to trail his lips along Jisung’s jaw, burying his face in his neck and taking a deep breath. He felt Jisung clench involuntarily and smirked at the gasp he let out. His tongue darted out, flattening over Jisung’s pulse point, and he groaned at the taste of his sweat. “Every inch of you tastes like heaven, baby…” he whispered in his ear, lips ghosting over his earlobe.

Jisung shuddered at that, Minho’s words and the way he teased his ear sending a fresh wave of arousal crashing down over his body. He couldn’t form a coherent thought, let alone string together a sentence. Minho had hit the nail on the head when he said Jisung thrived on praise.

The younger man rocked his hips, desperate for friction. Minho hadn’t moved an inch since he bottomed out and it was driving him insane. “Plea- ah..!” His begging morphed into a pathetic moan as Minho drove him up the bed with a single thrust.

He set a rhythmic pace, going slow so that Jisung could feel every inch of him. It was torture but he loved it. He wanted this to last a while before they had to leave the bed and pretend none of this ever happened in front of his associates.

Jisung’s nails dug into his back and he let out a low groan before attacking his neck with bites and kisses. “You’re driving me fucking insane.” He all but growled, grunting as their hips met with each thrust. “You take me so well, baby. How the fuck am I supposed to act normal at work when I know how good you feel?”

Jisung could only let out a strangled moan as his cock twitched at the dirty talk. His mouth hung open, letting out tiny sounds right beside Minho’s ear each time the headboard met the wall. The neighbors were gonna be sick of him by Monday if they weren’t already…

After a particularly hard thrust, Jisung pressed a palm against the headboard to brace himself while the other continued to claw at Minho’s back. He could feel the knot in his belly getting tighter but he forced it away, wanting to hold on as long as possible. Hands guided his legs around Minho’s waist and he instantly locked his ankles as he attempted to pull him in deeper. “Fuck- it’s so good-” he slurred, head tipping further back when he felt lips on his throat.

“Yeah? You like it, baby?” Jisung’s weak moan was answer enough and Minho fought the urge to leave a mark on his golden skin, not wanting to have to watch him try to explain it later. Instead, he licked over each kiss and let out a guttural noise each time.

His own orgasm was drawing closer but he didn’t want to finish early and have to get Jisung off another way so he paused and pulled back just enough to see the younger man’s flushed face. His expression was that of pure bliss and it made Minho’s cock twitch as need burned through his body. “Stunning…” he whispered before catching Jisung’s lips in a sweet kiss, a strong arm wrapping around him and pulling him impossibly closer.

The praise was intoxicating. He’d been called pretty plenty of times, had men falling at his feet to tell him how beautiful he was, but it was different coming from Minho. More gratifying. Add that to the way their tongues danced, exploring and taking every opportunity to taste as much of each other as possible, and he was on cloud nine. He’d have the worst time trying to focus later…

When they finally parted for air, Jisung rocked his hips. “Please keep going…” he whispered, finally peeking out with half-lidded eyes to see Minho staring intensely at him once more. “I need it.” He added and watched as the older man caved.

Minho captured Jisung’s lips once more as he resumed his previous actions and greedily drank up the series of moans and whimpers that followed. He worked a bit faster now, almost frenzied as he tried to finish them both off. His head was spinning and his pulse was racing as his orgasm drew closer. He was so fucking close…

“O-oh! There! Just like that! Oh my god ‘m gonna cum-” Jisung’s cries only pushed him closer to the edge and he nodded as he buried his face in his neck.

“That’s right, baby, let go. Cum for me, angel.” Minho’s coaching was the last straw for Jisung and he let out a wail as a blistering orgasm wracked his body. His body shuddered with each shockwave of pleasure, nails biting into Minho’s back. He let out a symphony of sounds, each one prettier than the last, and Minho knew immediately that he would become addicted to this.

Even in the midst of his orgasm, Jisung thought of Minho. He knew the older man was right on the edge and he wanted to get him there faster. He wanted to help him finish. Mostly, though, he wanted to be filled with cum.

He was subtle with his motions and Minho thought he was simply clinging to him but his intentions became obvious when he felt both hands on his chest. “Ji…” he whispered, lips already parting in a silent moan despite his best efforts.

His hips stuttered and his thrusts grew sloppy when Jisung began toying with his nipples like before. He muttered something about Jisung being a tease and finally sank his teeth into his shoulder as the knot in his belly unraveled. He bit and sucked on the sweat-slick skin there, dead set on leaving another mark.

A particularly rough twist made him cry out against Jisung’s skin as he emptied himself. His whole body was on fire as he came and began to slow down. Jisung let out a soft whine at the sensation of Minho’s cum inside him and immediately slipped his arms around his neck while his legs pulled him in deeper, holding onto him for dear life.

Minho's hot breath on his skin made him even more reluctant to let go of him, so he didn’t. He held him in place as they gasped for air, stars dancing behind their eyes. Finally, Jisung broke the silence.

“I don’t wanna go to work.” He groaned in annoyance as he reluctantly loosened his grip on Minho.

Minho didn’t answer right away, too preoccupied with littering lazy kisses along Jisung’s collarbone and jaw as he whispered more praises. When he did respond, however, it was exactly what Jisung anticipated. “Unfortunately, we have to.” He glanced at the clock and sighed. “We have less than an hour to get ready. We should shower so we aren’t late.” He groaned, reflecting Jisung’s annoyance.

“I guess.” He sighed but made no move to push Minho off him. “I’m gonna be thinking about this all day.”

“Me too.” Minho grinned and kissed him briefly, rocking his hips teasingly and swallowing the moan he earned. “Come on. We’ve got all weekend to do this.” He whispered finally, lips never parting from Jisung’s until he began to force himself out of bed.

The weekend couldn’t get here fast enough…

[gx-gameon]

When it's time to go to the Dark World to rescue Jesse, do any of the DM crew join the GX kids or no?

This is my Great War. Every day I think about this idea.

Because there are three options here.

1) They stay behind

The portal closes before they can get there. And they are forced to wait.

Now as I wrote here Seto does still have the dimension pod that he used to go to the afterlife and duel Atem. However they were using them to try and track down Jesse. If they get left behind they won’t stay there for long. But I don’t know if they would try and lock on to Jaden or Jesse.

If they decide to go after Jesse they are going to run into possessed Jesse. Leading to a duel with Yubel. I don’t think Yubel would win but I also don’t think they’d lose. I think they’d find a way to end the duel in a draw through outside forces. And then send anything they could to keep the DM crew occupied.

Or

They track Jaden which has the same outcome as option two

2) They get there just as the portal opens and get sucked in

Now much like Zane, Aster, and Crowler they end up some place different then the Gx kids.

They don’t catch up to Jaden until he’s already the Supreme King. And oh we have so many options from here

This is Jaden at arguably his most powerful. He has super poly and is not holding back. He doesn’t care about anyone or anything right now and that makes him dangerous.

Add into this that the DM crew as are looking at their son/nephew who they raised as a little family unit. He’s lost to them right now and they are trying everything to snap him out of it.

How many DM characters do you think the Supreme King can beat?

Note they might be ‘going all out’ but they would never risk killing Jaden. Joey is definitely dueling the same way he did against Mai in the Oricalcos arc. Focused more on snapping Jaden out of it than wining. But as we know from Axel winning is the only way to defeat the Supreme King.

Yugi is absolutely trying to make the appeal to his son. “This isn’t you. I love you. Come back to me.” We could make this so heart wrenching.

Note they would probably met up with Axel right after Jim was lost. Axel tells them the horrible truth. This is because I still want to give the final duel against the Supreme King to Axel as it is a great moment for his character.

Plus after it’s all over Jaden has to live with not only ‘killing’ his friends (again not your fault) but also hurting and maybe killing some of his family.

3) They join the Gx crew for the whole journey.

Jaden still tries to rush ahead but the DM crew are not only experienced Jaden wranglers but also experience desperate protagonist wranglers. It’s your time to shine Aunt Téa and Dad Yugi.

They are able to keep a better eye on the kids so they don’t get captured. Meaning there has to be another way to sacrifice people.

We have some options

A) the Gx crew still gets put under the spell

they start talking crap about Jaden which greatly disturbs the DM crew for a lot of reasons.

Then they reach Brron the man traps separates the two groups all the Gx crew into duels (like a five on 1 tag duel?) but they all lose except Jaden because of their sadness/rage.

Leaving Jaden friendless and feeling like he couldn’t protect them. 

Jaden feels like a failure and maybe he gets tricked into thinking his family is dead and that’s what makes him fall.

B) it’s the DM crew Brron targets for his spell. They don’t have the negative feelings towards Jaden but each other.

Hear me out.

The whole situation has been stressful and a lot of them (Joey and Tristian) are upset with Seto’s school that keeps putting Jaden and friends in danger.

Téa and Yugi as super sad about Jaden’s lose of normalcy and also the way some of his friends behave.

Seto’s pride is as large as ever.

It’s not that they don’t love each other, they do but it’s stress and the situation and complex feelings. They’re not blaming each other but the situation and the spell brings out those negative emotions.

This ends with them getting sacrificed

Jaden has to watch as he loses his family and he loses it.

This also allows the Gx crew to be more active in the plot and maybe have some bonding with the remaining DM crew as only four are sacrificed.

Again this is my Great War. I have no idea which idea to go with.

[vera-king-hrfl]

Here's the first bit of the promised Zevlor/Rolan little one-shot spicy story. It's more gentle than I expected, after the first bit, but I don't really plan things, and that's what came out. 🏳️‍🌈

Edit to tag @manicpixie-tieflingboyfriend in case they didn't see it. I gotchu fam.

 

“So I hear that you are planning to leave us.”

The gruff rumble of Zevlor’s voice cuts through your reverie and you look up, frowning. “I’m surprised you aren’t. They don’t want us here. We’re going to be forced out anyway. I’m just cutting to the chase.”

“And that is what it will be, Rolan. As soon as you step out that gate, the three of you will be vulnerable. And that’s not all. By abandoning the rest of us, you will be putting everyone at greater risk. We are stronger together.”

You bark a laugh, “are we? Dragging around a load of children, elderly, non-combatants. Almost all of them. I saw Guex yesterday. The kids. They will fall like wheat to the scythe. Can you and a handful of soldiers save them from gods know how many goblins and worgs and whatever else they send? At least, if it’s just Cal and Lia, we can hide, and I might be able to…”

He cuts you off with a chopping motion. “If I cannot hope to stand against this, then what chance do you have? You should wait. The party that just arrived, they are on our side. They have offered…”

“Bullshit. We don’t know those people. They took the Blade of Frontiers with them and fucked off. He was the only one left here that was on our side and the Arch Druid is probably dead. Even the mercenaries left after they knocked out their leader. For being rude to you, I might add. Can’t even fight your own battles. I think you’re going soft.”

“And I think you’re being very selfish. We have elderly, and actual children to care for. You should think of that instead of acting like one yourself.”

You growl, feeling the heat in your face. You know you’re getting too angry, given his calm demeanor, but you don’t care. “Yeah. Children and elderly, like you. Broken down old asshole. Half of our people are already dead because you can’t cut it anymore.”

You see him wince a little, and almost wish you could take the words back, but it’s too late. He bares his teeth, finally raising his voice, “Fine! Have it your own way. Petulant, stupid little brat. Go and get yourself and your family killed. I have better things to do than argue with you.” He whirls and starts to stalk toward the door of the cave he’s been using as an office, but his words burn you. Partly because you know he’s right, but you are seeing red, and almost before you realize what you’re doing, you raise your hand and shoot a single magic missile at his retreating back. It hits him, and he staggers, stopping dead. He’s wearing armor, but it still probably stung him pretty good.  

Zevlor turns, “you really want to do this, you little shit? It would take more than…”

Desperate to shut him up, you snarl and send two more missiles his way, but incredibly, he manages to dodge one. Fuck, the old man is fast. The other hits him in the shoulder, and he shakes it off and starts toward you, fangs gleaming.

Dodge this, you think. “Detono!” He leans into the Thunderwave, and it pushes him back, his boots sliding over the stony floor, but he doesn’t go down. Shit, he’s still coming, and you’re getting tired.

You try to blow him back with a gust of wind, all you have left, but the spell is too weak, he seems hardly to notice, gripping your wrist and twisting, whipping you around, wrenching your shoulder and pressing himself to your back. His other hand flashes up to cover your mouth. “Stop this now,” he snarls, “save it for our real enemies.”

You struggle, squirming in his grasp, attempting to pry the hand from your face, curling your tail around his leg and yanking at it, but he is far too strong, and your shoulder is screaming, and you’re thinking of enemies. Enemies everywhere, threats on every side, goblins on the road, gnolls in the hills, druids trying to force you out. You hear the insults, the filthy names, flashing back to your life as an unwanted orphan, the sting of stones thrown by human children when you were cold, hungry, and desperate for someone, anyone, to care about you. And now Zevlor will hate you as well, the person you secretly trusted to be strong enough to save you and your siblings.

Perhaps he feels your chest hitch with the stifled sob, or the tears trickling onto his fingers, or perhaps not, but either way he releases your wrist then, letting you drop your arm, and wraps his arm around you, still holding you tight and covering your mouth. “Are you finished?” But his voice is much more gentle now, and you nod, gasping for breath when he releases you, stumbling forward to lean against the table. You are reluctant to turn, to let him see you crying, but he is silent, merely standing there behind you, perhaps waiting for something. An apology, most likely. You know you should apologize for picking a fight, for attacking him even when he was resisting what had to be a powerful urge to knock some sense into you. He hadn’t hit you even then, merely restraining you so you would stop trying to hurt him. Your shoulder aches, and your lips sting where they were cut against your own teeth, but the tough old Hellrider could have destroyed you if he’d wanted to.

“That was really stupid,” you rasp, finally turning to look at him, “I am sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

He looks a bit stunned, taking in your tear-stained face and bruised, bloody mouth, but shakes his head, “we’re all under a great deal of stress. I should not have let it go that far. I engaged where I shouldn’t have. The fault is mine.”

He's blaming himself, as usual, looking so contrite that another little sob forces its way past your lip. You had hurt him, just not physically. You know how little Zevlor thinks of himself, and this is just another stone piled onto the great burden of guilt he carries. That, more than anything, causes your face to heat with shame and the tears to flow faster, and you cover your face with your hands. “No no no,” you whine, “it was me. It’s all just… too much. I am afraid… makes me so angry…”

He's here now, closing on you, his hands gentle, soothing, and you feel the soft wave of his power flow over you, healing the cuts, the bruises, the pain in your arm, and he pulls you to him, hushing you and tucking your face into his shoulder. You wrap your arms around him, uncaring of the armor, holding him tightly as he rubs your back, letting you cry on him and whispering words of praise and encouragement. He is so kind, you think, so steady, a solid wall to prop yourself against when the shadows gather too near. You finally run down and sniffle, chuckling a bit, “I’m going to rust your armor.”

“Fuck the armor.” He eases you back to look at you, and you wipe your face on your sleeve. “Better now?” He’s still speaking quietly, smiling a little but still looking anxious, and his solicitous nature moves something in you. Your hair has come undone and he reaches up to brush a lock from your eyes and tuck it behind your horn. So gentle, so generous, eyes so bright, just like yours, lips so soft… without thinking you lean forward and press your mouth to his.

Zevlor freezes for a moment, but then pulls back, holding you away from him. “You are overwrought, Rolan. I think you should rest now. Come, you can wash your face and when you are more yourself again you can go back…”

“No,” you interrupt him, clearing your throat and lowering your eyes, mumbling, “I mean, I am, yes, but that’s not why. I know you don’t feel the same but… I kind of… I have a little crush on you. Have for a while. I don’t know if you would ever… never mind. It’s fine, I’ll deal with it.”

He looks more surprised than he had before, but he’s still holding one of your hands, and he doesn’t release it. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve never thought about you like that. Never allowed myself to…” Of course he hadn’t. You had known men who had, who had made their desires very clear, sometimes even forceful, and you’d had to fight off quite a few unwanted advances in your youth. It was one reason you strove so desperately to make yourself more powerful. But Zevlor isn’t like that. You’d never seen him so much as look at anyone in a way that might suggest interest. If he has desires, he hides them very well.

You swallow, his proximity and the warmth of his hand in yours making you brave. “Well, think about it now. If… I mean, if you want to. If you don’t like men…”

He shakes his head, his burning eyes wide. “It’s not that. And you are very… but I still think you are a little off balance. Not thinking clearly. You couldn’t possibly be interested a battered old soldier like me.” But you see the barest flicker of hope cross his face. Hope that he would quickly crush himself if you don’t act decisively.

You touch his face, the ridges on his cheek, and he doesn’t pull away. “I should not have done that without permission. I’m sorry. I will ask this time. Zevlor, may I kiss you?”

He is silent for so long that you become nervous again, thinking that perhaps you’ve offended him. He’s going to refuse, you’d misread him. You are gathering yourself to apologize again, to pull away, to take back your words, but it seems you have just rendered him speechless, because after another moment, he merely nods. You blow out a breath, feeling relief flood through you. You have to reset yourself. You want this to be good. Steeling yourself you slowly lean forward, slide your fingers up into his hair, and touch your lips gently to his.

He doesn’t respond at first, but you shift closer, increasing the pressure incrementally, and after a few more seconds he begins to return your kiss. His lips are even softer and sweeter than you had imagined in your guilty late night fantasies, and he moves them slowly, hesitant, not applying much pressure of his own. He is being very careful, you think, probably he still doesn’t really believe that you want this, thinks you might change your mind and pull away with every second that passes. But you have no intention of stopping. It feels too good. You tilt your head a bit, fitting your mouth to his, sliding your fingers to the back of his head, and you feel his own large, warm hand lay lightly on your waist. He likes it. He’s responding, getting a little more confident, and you hear his sharp intake of breath when you flick your tongue briefly over his mouth. He parts his lips, slightly, allowing you to taste the moist inner surface, to touch the points of his teeth. The hand on your waist slips further, settling against your lower back above your tail. That appendage is trembling, and you can’t see, but you think his might be as well. You decide to check, passing the length between your legs and his, seeking his own tail. A soft brush of the spade on the end, and you coil it around his, squeezing a little. That seems to crack some of his reserve and he wraps his arms around you fully, opening his mouth and letting you push your tongue against his. You moan, feeling the delicate tapered points taste you carefully. It’s incredible. He feels amazing, his heat, his strong hands, his tail around yours, and you feel safe in his arms, protected.

But you want more. You want all of him, and you lose yourself in the intensity of the moment, sealing your mouth with his, and reach your hand around to grip his ass and pull him hard against you. You are as hard as granite, but the armor is in the way, you want it off,  want him bare against you, on top of you, taking you. You are considering the fastest way to get into his pants when he suddenly breaks the kiss with a gasp. “Stop.” You shake your head, needy, and try to recapture his lips but he holds you away from him. “Not here. Not now. Someone else might walk in at any moment. And I… Rolan, that was… no one has touched me, kissed me in years. I need time to think, and we need to talk about this. Tonight. Down by the river. I will be there, and if you still feel… but I will not press you. If you change your mind I will understand. I won’t be upset. We can forget the whole thing, alright?”

You nod, breathing deeply, trying to calm yourself, but you know you will remember that beautiful kiss for the rest of your life. “I will be there.”

[raina-at]

Fic writer 20 Questions

Thanks for the tag, @khorazir!

How many works do you have on AO3?

29 fics, three J2 RPS, 1 Supernatural, the rest is Sherlock.

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

490,267 (though I have to add that a lot of my old fics aren’t on AO3, my overall word count must be well over a million.)

What fandoms do you write for?

In the past, Star Wars, Supernatural, Harry Potter, RPS. Right now it’s Sherlock, and has been for a while. And I don’t see that changing any time soon.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Bakers with Benefits

Don’t Read the Last Page

Running Obliquely

Take Two

All I Want for Christmas (is Proof)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always respond to comments, or at least I try my best to. It’s only polite, people took time to give me feedback, the least I can do is to thank them for their time. 

 What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don’t do angsty endings, my fics all end happily ;-)

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hm. Well. All my fics end on a happy note, but for me, it’s probably Spare Parts because that happy ending was the one I felt was the hardest won. But I do have a soft spot for the last chapter of Bakers with Benefits, because that was also a long road, both for Sherlock and for me.

Do you get hate on fics?

Hasn’t happened so far. Granted, I only posted one of my many, many Wincest stories, so maybe if I had more of them on AO3, but as it stands, I never got hate on one of my fics, and I hope it stays this way. The odd rude comment, but no hate.

Do you write smut?

Yup. But not a lot of it. I find the older I get the less smut I write, probably because it’s starting to feel repetitive. Which is funny, because I’ve written hundreds of love confessions and I never get tired of those. 

Do you write crossovers?

Not yet. If the inspiration strikes, I might yet write one, but so far I haven’t.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of. I’m not on Wattpad and the likes, so there might be some stolen copies of my works out there, but who knows. Someone once told me about this person who plagiarized one of my J2 fics and re-wrote it as a Degrassi het fic, but the person had already deleted their account, so I couldn’t verify it. That was… bizarre. 

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several. Speak Now was translated into Spanish, Bakers with Benefits into French and Without Complexities or Pride into Russian.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

My darling wife @nuttersinc and I co-wrote thousands of words of fic. We hosted fests and LJ communities, ran an online RPG together and co-wrote a huge fic series that we abandoned when we both fell out of that fandom at the same time. We haven’t been in the same fandom since back in our Supernatural days, but we did just about everything fandom spouses can do together except host a podcast ;-)

14 .  What’s your all time favourite ship?

I mean… Johnlock just has The Dynamic down to a science. You can do so much with them. You can do anything. They’re so wonderfully perfect for each other in all their fucked-up, flawed, deeply human glory. But having said that, I have a weak spot deep in my heart for Mulder and Scully, because they were so important to me as a teenager, and they led me to fandom and fanfic. They’re the first ship that truly owned my soul. So a part of my heart will always belong to them.

(They also led me to my second favourite het ship of all time, Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, because Mulder compared himself and Scully to Peter and Harriet in one of my favourite fics, so of course I had to go read the books, and man, that’s a Dynamic, right there. Two whip-smart, emotionally extremely vulnerable people both desperately wanting and being deadly scared of true intimacy. I eat that up with a spoon. Also love the ‘man totally besotted with the smart, independent woman cutting his ego down to size’ dynamic.)

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh, so MANY. I never post WIPS because I want to feel free to abandon stories whenever, so I’m the only one haunted by my WIP folder, but there’s a few in there I would really like to come back to one of these days. But never say never, the first three pages of Nothing Gold Can Stay sat in there for MONTHS, gestating. You never know.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I can only say what I enjoy writing, I hope that joy translates itself to the page. I love writing dialogue and I think I’m pretty good at it. I think I’m good at pacing, and I think I’m good at making people Feel Things.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I sometimes lose patience with plot. Because I mostly use plot as a means for character development, I sometimes lose patience with my own plots. That mostly happens in the fics I don’t finish, and it’s mostly the reason I don’t finish the fic. I’m also not especially good at handling large casts of characters, many of my fics have very few characters.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic? 

Honestly, it hasn’t come up yet. I would only do it in German, because that’s my native language, otherwise I’d be too worried to get it wrong. I don’t generally like it when conversations aren’t translated. Othewise I have no strong feelings about it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Wrote? X-Files. Posted? Roswell.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Oh, that’s hard. The ones I loved writing the most are probably Take Two and my J2 highschool AU. I wrote both very quickly in a sort of fugue state, and it just feels amazing when that happens. The one I enjoy re-visiting the most? Bakers with Benefits.

Tagging @keirgreeneyes @jrow @discordantwords @thetimemoves and anyone else who wants to do this.

[moldybonessmell]

Okay, but can we talk about this one Christmas scene in BBC Sherlock S2E2?

Let's take a look at this one dialog that occured when John needs to stay with Sherlock to comfort him after Irene's death and his girlfriend is upset:

"You're a great boyfriend!" "Okay, that's good. I mean, I always thought I was great-" "And Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man." "Oh, Jeanette please"

John has his priorities and it's very obvious to everyone involved (even tho I do think that staying with your best friend after the death of a person who was important to him is a valid reason to miss a celebration) I suppose it just was the last straw for her

"No, I mean it. It's heartwarming. You'll do anything for him. And he can't even tell your girlfriends apart!"

The fact that John's love is so unconditional he doesn't even care if Sherlock returns it reminds me so much of this one episode of Doctor Who where River Song compared loving Doctor to loving sun: "You don't expect the sun to love you back!" or something like this, I don't remember the quote and it breaks my heart so much.

(Yes I did a wholock reference, what are you gonna do about it?)

And I also see here how much he tries to move on knowing that sun will not love him back but he just can't.

"No, I'll do anything for you, just tell me what it is, I'm not doing, tell me!" "Don't make me compete with Sherlock Holmes!"

This quote is so important because even Jeanette knows and understands the entirety of the situation John's in.

Compete with Sherlock Holmes is something nobody can do (all his enemies get defeated as we know) but not only villians are a threat, even loved ones will always be on a second place for John. The first place is forever taken by this one nerd not knowing the Earth is moving around the Sun (even tho he's the sun himself).

"I'll walk your dog for you. There, I've said it now, I'll even walk your dog." "I don't have a dog!" "No, because that was the last one- Okay."

Even John himself admits his defeat and realises what he got himself into.

(He did marry Mary eventually, and even tho I love her character, I can't help but see her being another one of "escapes" for John.)

Please don't witchhunt me for "hating on straight ships" or whatever, complain at the directors and writers who made John so unbearably closeted any other of his ships just doesn't sail (pun fully intended).

All I see here is a man desperately stuck in his one-sided feelings and fear of being out, he goes through the struggle a lot of queer people experienced in their life.

Yes, it's been done many times before, but I can't help but say that the production crew are cowards for not making John canonically queer when his writing is so authentic it makes me experience almost physical pain.

Coming back to the topic of Mary btw, I think it was fucking lame in the way her destiny turned out to be. She deserved to have a good life with loving husband and a child, but writers put her in the story just to make John not so openly queer coded (bi and pan people exist btw but it's a topic for another conversation unfortunately) and they just killed her off to "sail" the johnlock ship in the end because they are cowards to actually follow through with queerbaiting (that's what the quotes for, because they haven't actually sailed it). I hate, and I mean HATE when a woman is added to a story just for a man's character development and gets killed off and BBC's Sherlock situation is exactly like this. Why even add her to the story if you don't plan on making her stay with John? The last season makes no sense and makes me so angry I often pretend it doesn't exist "BOO TOMATOES TOMATOES-" (it's the reason I don't want any new Sherlock seasons tbh)

Okay, this post is all over the place, at this point I'm more just ranting instead of doing a proper topic analysis but I hope you liked it anyway. Share your opinion if you have any, ig the Sherlock tag is too full at this point I don't really see people taking about stuff while checking the tag (saying this as if the first season didn't come out like 13 years ago)

Have a good day :)

[librarynova-lette]

The Creative Act: A Way of Being / Rick Rubin

"Some ideas may resonate, others may not. A few may awaken an inner knowing you forgot you had. Use what's helpful, let go of the rest."

The Creative Act really opens up with a startlingly earnest admission that the book is an emotional take on art, that these are observations, and that the book is designed to be taken piecemeal into ones view, rather than wholeheartedly be agreed with.

There is something deeply comforting about the notion. The expectation set that, artist to artist, this is merely one man's musings - it actually ended up being what i loved most about this read. There's something so touching about ones relationship with art.

"Just as trees grow flowers and fruit, humanity creates works of art." "The universe functions like a clock; to everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven. A time to be born, A time to die. A time to plant, A time to reap. A time to kill, A time to heal. A time to laugh, A time to weep. A time to build up, A time to break down. A time to dance, a time to mourn. A time to cast away stones, A time to gather stones together. these rhythms are not set by us - we are all participating in a larger creative act we are not conducting, we are being conducted. The artist is on a cosmic timetable just like all of nature."

I found so much of this book's sentiment to be touching, and deeply important to me as an artist and creative. The natural ebb and flow of work and rest, pain and joy. It was so touching to think of the idea that humanity, on its face, creates. It is what humanity does. We find creative solutions to problems, just as we drew pigment across stone in our early existence, so too do I tap my keyboard to string words together, or draw a pen across a page, all a chorus of creativity I couldn't help but lend my voice.

And what a lovely chorus to be a part of - what a lovely song to sing.

"Art is a reverberation of an impermanent life. As human beings we come and go quickly, and we get to make works that stand as monuments to our time here. Enduring affirmations of existence. Michelangelo's David, the first cave paintings, a child's finger paint landscapes. They all echo the same human cry, like graffiti scrawled in a bathroom stall - 'I was here'"

Hearing this paragraph read drew so much together for me, this inherent understanding that there was no difference between the graffiti tags I see in my city and the words on this blog. No different from a cave painting. Even if no one but me reads them, nobody sees them but me, they are adding to the song every creative sings. A desperate cry to add permanence to our wholly impermanent existence, to reach across the boundaries of lifetimes and say "I was here" To reach across time with an intentional hand, a legacy in pigment, a legacy in song.

"Do you know how much I loved being here? I'm showing you, I am still so alive. I died before we had words you would understand. We can dance together, still."

I feel more connected to being human than I have in a long time.

"Art has an ability to connect us beyond the limitations of language. Through this we get to face our inner world outward, remove the boundaries of separation and participate in the great remembering of what we came into this life knowing: There is no separation, we are one. The reason we're alive is to express ourselves in the world, and creating art may be the most effective and beautiful method of doing so. Art goes beyond language beyond lives, it's a universal way to send messages between each other, and through time"

Never forget the power of connection your creativity has, it is a language only you speak, that everyone else can understand, in their own ways.

"How many pages will be left empty, because your process was dampened by doubt and deliberation?"

Art can seem so careful and intentional, that it seems counterintuitive to offer the advice to simply do it, but the simple fact of the matter is if you spend time on the fence of decisions, you will never create. You will kill your creativity with indecision.

One must simply take a leap of faith, a brushstroke can change minds, touch hearts, and speak the untranslatable.

If only you choose to leap, to allow the risk for the sting of failure.

"There's always a next scene, and that next scene may be one of great beauty and fulfillment. the hard times were the required setup to allow these new possibilities to come into being"

And what of that sting? Should you feel it? What will you do?

You get up. You try again. The sting of artistic failure, the pain of loss and grief. Things that shatter your world, all the things we as human beings feel so very terribly deeply, the things we cannot help but carry with us forever.

What will you do with it? Will you burn it bright, a red hot fuel behind every step? Grind it to pigment for your inks? Distill the feeling to words?

Your hard times forge you, forge your work. Carry them with pride, and take the stage for your next scene.

"The person who makes something today isn't the same person who returns to the work tomorrow"

As life shapes you, through failure, loss, success, or beginnings - so too will it shape your work. This is never a bad thing, a fresh pair of eyes, separated by even 24 hours are a gift to the work. You may find the meaning of a work changing before your very eyes, your intent no longer what you see.

The artist grows, but the work does not grow with them. A finished work is a ring in a tree stump, an earnest recording of the time of its creation.

A letter to the future self, a hand reached out.

"Nice to meet you. Did you like being me? I will never know."

"The magic lives in the wonder of what we do not know. However you frame yourself as an artist, the frame is too small."

And how wonderful that is. The uncertainty, the way we will never know what our future selves think until we meet them, the way we will never know what our ancestors felt while rendering cave paintings, the way so much of the world is beyond our knowing.

Why then, would we insist on defining ourselves so rigidly? Why chain yourself to any one thought process when the universe is your backyard, and loves you so? Loves you so that it whispers in your ear to create, to make your mark here, to change matter's shape, to reach across time and space.

I was here.

It was beautiful, and I loved, I lost, I succeeded, and I failed.

I lived, and to live is to create.

[fruityuncleskeletor]

I posted 984 times in 2022

That's 984 more posts than 2021!

226 posts created (23%)

758 posts reblogged (77%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@vegasandhishedgehog

@therealblessedaffliction

@urheartsamess

@la-fourmi

@asliceofoceanmist

I tagged 291 of my posts in 2022

#vegas theerapanyakul - 125 posts

#pete saengtham - 93 posts

#vegas - 89 posts

#vegaspete - 89 posts

#pete - 66 posts

#kinnporsche the series - 58 posts

#kpts - 53 posts

#kinnporsche - 50 posts

#build jakapan puttha - 38 posts

#fic - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 110 characters

#or the minor family home guards having to unsee vegas' dick out as he returned home with his wet pants in hand

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

When you finally find that epic drip that feels custom made for you.

129 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

#4

More late night thoughts about Vegas and Pete

I was thinking about Vegas and about the way Gun raised and beat him into becoming a weapon; I was thinking about his office, which is a front decorated with shiny shit by someone who secretly and desperately wants to be discovered and found interesting enough to dwell on. I was thinking of how the Bond villain attire is strictly mafia and stricly work gear, Vegas himself being a snuggly PJs kind of man. I was thinking of how his family did to Vegas what many people do to pitbulls - take a very mellow and protective nature and twist it into something hideous and then BLAME the animal for how it was trained and for being too good at carrying out his master's orders. And then in walked Pete.

I saw your witchy shit. I saw your BDSM gear. Cool decor, bro. You need love. You're doing your best. You're a good son. You don't have to compare yourself with others. Like on those shows where they rescue abused dogs, they cower or try to bite when they see a hand approach because they are used to the beatings, but when the hand pats the head, the dogs wag their entire person. It takes one instance of being seen to be reset. And sure, it could be argued that this take makes Vegas too needy and pathetic, and painting him as a victim is boring and not as fun as making him be an unrepenting monster-

but I propose to you this: he is still a monster, and he's worthy of forgiveness, healing and love nonetheless.

A pitbull can still rip someone to shreds even once it becomes a beloved family pet. It just chooses not to. And Pete is like that one person who stops in front of the cage at the shelter where the most scarred and gnarly dog sits, ignored by families and young couples, Pete looks and says "I'm the only thing between you and the gas chamber, but I can deal with you, I can take your anger because you and me, we're the same." And the scarred and mean looking dog gets to go home with a human, and sleep on a soft bed. Not even God can save whoever is reckless enough to threaten his human.

Then, what does it say about Pete, a man hardened by a life of poverty, abuse, and intense violence, who still, even when pushed to his limits, can look at a man and say "yep, needs love" ?

172 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

#3

I made this because it's mixing two of my favourite things: the Black cat bring good luck video and VegasPete. This one needs the sound on.

182 notes - Posted August 27, 2022

#2

Not these stale takes on Vegas again

I was reading a thread on reddit and someone was saying that Vegas is a chronic loser, that he always loses out to Kinn, that even Porsche with his one braincell knows all Vegas deserves is a hard pass. And then they had the gall to add "and he ended up with a fucking bodyguard". I've seen the post yesterday and I am still fuming. It bothered me so much that there's people who see Vegas as a loser and it made me think. While I was watching the series, I felt that for Vegas to be a credible villain, he should have gotten with Porsche FIRST, before Kinn, a la Dangerous Liaisons, but then I realised that if he had done that, sure it would have one-upped Kinn, but it would have made Vegas petty and short-sighted in his pursuits. And I like to tell myself that Porsche does find Vegas attractive, but the little self-preservation he has is begging him not to fuck around and find out because sure, Vegas is appealing and he promises a lot, but danger follows him wherever he goes and Porsche would like to live to see Chay graduate ( *cough* if Chay sees fit to get his shit together at some point *cough*). Calling Vegas a loser is looking at him through his father's eyes and choosing to ignore the fact that he is hands-on, competent, brings the skills needed to lead and is respected (and feared) by his henchmen. Kinn sits on his ass and does what daddy tells him, and when shit doesn't go his way he flashes his ring like he's in a Green Lantern movie. He wins just by showing up. On a level, I also think Vegas was sabotaging his attempts to get with Porsche just to stick it to Kinn because I can't imagine he approved of the plan since it came from his bitch-ass dad and it was in poor taste. I cannot, for the life of me, imagine that Vegas, perceptive and good at reading people Vegas, failed to see that his sad meow-meow cursed prince act would not work on Porsche, who loves to be the princess in every scenario and who is looking for a hero with big firm tiddies he can dramatically faint on. I also don't think Vegas is a loser AT ALL. Sure, he didn't beat Kinn at... *checks notes* being trapped in the mafia and under Korn's foot? And he "ended up" with the best, most interesting and hottest character on the show, who also happens to be compatible with him and loves him back... wow, such tragedy (that I would also like to experience)!

Look how in love he is. Pete is the best thing that happened to him, at the right time too. That's not losing and going home with scraps to me.

268 notes - Posted August 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I like to imagine this is Vegas' dating app profile pic and that those sacks are full of cocaine.🥳

429 notes - Posted August 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[petertingle-yipyip]

MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK

six - not friendly

tags: @windblownwinston​ @linkpk88​ @emmamarshmellow // five // seven // masterlist

Pairing: None officially (Ft. M. Murdock x reader / DD x Vigilante!Reader)

Word Count: 8,982

Summary: Things are revealed, but not exactly in the way Y/N expected... Now she has some serious explaining to do. //warnings: very brief SA reference. blink and you’ll miss it//

That day was heavy and there was no way to make it better, other than to shut everything off.

You felt the weight of Elena’s passing once you saw her in the morgue. It felt like a hot poker in your chest but you had to shut off those feelings. You had to keep composure, because you didn’t know where that emotional spike could lead.

You opted out of drinks with the guys and Karen. You knew it upset Matt to leave you alone but you needed the time. You needed to breathe, to let go of that lurking paranoia that Wilson Fisk knew your truth.

You couldn’t remember if he saw enough of your face when you beat Anatoly in front of him. You thought your movement was enough to hide you, that the poor lighting was enough to protect you. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he recognized you at the gallery.

You were so caught up in those worries that you didn’t realize your burner phone was ringing. You missed the call completely so you waited until the voicemail notification popped up.

“Exodus… It’s me.” The Devil said carefully and your heart seemed to stop in your chest. “I uh- I know you probably have something else you’re doing tonight but if you can… I could use your help. I have a lead on Fisk and I can’t do it on my own. Well, I guess I can but I don’t want to. I need you… Please… It’s the warehouse by the docks. If you don't come by, I’ll call you afterwards and let you know what happened.”

“Shit.” You hissed and jumped to your feet.

You rushed to the case under your bed and clumsily got changed, falling onto your bed twice in the process. You tied your hair back in a sloppy ponytail and you pulled on your mask before climbing your fire escape. You sprinted across rooftops, jumping across alleys and tumbling through too many messy landings until you finally reached the docks. 

You took a few deep breaths and let in the emotions of the warehouse. You wanted to know exactly what you were walking into. You felt desperation, a near hopeless feeling. Then you felt annoyance, the kind that partners with disrespect. There was pride there as well, pride in what would happen next.

With a determined stride, you entered the warehouse and followed those emotions like a beacon. You quickly broke into a sprint as that hopelessness began to thump steadily. You saw the faint silhouette of a man about to deliver a final blow to the Devil and you acted on nothing but instinct.

You quickly pulled a knife from your belt and sent it flying to shatter the light bulb above. The sparks ignited the gas puddle he was standing in and engulfed the man in a blazing fire. The bulb was only intended as a distraction, but the blaze worked as well.

He came at your partner again but he dropped to a knee and let you roll over his back. You brought your feet down with malicious intent so hard that it sent the other man to his back. When he didn’t get back up, you threw the Devil’s arm over your shoulders and worked to get him to his feet.

“Maybe next time, call me earlier than when you’re outside.” You scolded as you got him up.

“Wasn’t sure you’d show.” He panted and reached for his heavily bleeding side.

“That’s fair.” You answered with a quick tilt of your head, but before you could add anything else, Fisk’s voice cut in.

“Thank you.” He announced as he entered the room. You reached behind you and pulled the gun from your belt. “Nobu was becoming an issue. I appreciate you-”

“You tricked us into doing your dirty work.” You scoffed. “Pathetic… Can’t even handle your own problems.”

“You wanted us to do this?” The Devil managed.

“I bet you killed Elena Cardenas too.” You pressed. You made a gesture to move forward but your partner’s groans drew you hesitantly back to your original position. “You didn’t even care about her!”

“In a perfect world, those two would’ve taken each other out and you, Exodus. You would be standing with me, but it’s not perfect.. Not yet, anyways.”

“You think I would ever stand beside you?” You scoffed, gripping your gun tighter while your palm was growing hotter and your anger steadily climbed. “You killed an innocent woman! A woman who just wanted to keep her home!”

“You know, this took longer than expected. But Nobu didn’t mind, he just meditated for hours… I find it difficult to meditate. My mind won’t quiet.”

“I have a solution for that.” You shook your gun with a scoff. “Shuts everything down, nice and easy, though it’s a bit messy sometimes.”

“It’s a character flaw, I suppose… We all have them. Like you two, for example. You both have a weakness for women and children.”

“Weakness?” Your partner asked quietly, drawing his arm away and standing on his own. You kept your eyes on him for a few moments to ensure he wouldn’t collapse, but he managed to balance himself.

“I assumed it extended to the elderly so I baited the hook.” Fisk continues plainly.

“Baited the hook.” You repeated as you turned back to Fisk. “You say that like her life meant nothing.”

“You took her life just to get our attention?” The Devil managed.

“My options were limited by necessity.” Fisk said lowly. Your rage was burning through you so you opted to put your  gun away. Fisk had made the fight personal, and he was going to feel every burning hit from your fists. “I take no joy in her passing.”

“I’m… gonna kill you.” He said through his own burning anger.

“No, he’s not.” You said firmly, taking a step forward. “But I sure as hell can.”

“Take your shot.” 

As soon as you were ready to make a move, the Devil reached out and shoved you to the side. You fell to the ground and that allowed your partner to make his move on Fisk. You groaned in annoyance and slammed a hot fist into the ground before turning to see what was going on.

The two traded blows until Fisk got the upper hand, beating on the Devil while he was on his back. You set your shoulders in determination before you threw yourself into the fight.

You used a nearby beam as leverage and jumped, slamming both knees into Fisk’s chest. He teetered slightly but not enough, so you began an alternating series of punches. Once you saw his arm reaching for you, you stepped off his shoulder and flipped through the air.

You had to remain light on your feet, flipping and tumbling and sliding to avoid his lethal blows. On one swing, you put both hands on his arm and flipped, allowing your feet to connect with his jaw. Throughout the fight, you were charging your Bite. You saw the slices against his suit from where the Devil tried to use your blade against him, so you knew he wouldn’t feel it through his clothes.

You needed a clear shot at his neck, or even his face.

Your grunts and groans and small sounds of exertion mixed with the soft landings of your feet against the ground filled in the silences, as did the groans from Fisk when your attacks landed. You saw the perfect shot as he moved to crack his neck so you knelt, lifted your arm, and sent the biggest, non-lethal charge your Bite could muster.

The voltage was enough to bring the man to his knees so you hurried across the room and began hauling the Devil to his feet again.

“You gotta get up.” You practically begged. “Please, get up. Get up.”

“You gotta.. Gotta go before he.. Before he-” He tried, though there wasn’t much in him to fight you on it.

“I don’t give a shit. You need to go. Get somewhere safe, alright? Call someone to help you.” You insisted.

“Ex-”

“You can’t help me like this.” You cut in, shoving him slightly away from you. “You’ll bleed out before you can land a punch. Please… I need you to get through this.”

“It’s disappointing…” Fisk said as you shoved him away again. “Wesley.”

Your friend hesitated, only for a second. He had to have known there was a gun pointed at him and he knew you were staring at him, but his hesitation was for you. You realized he didn’t want to leave you. There was a desperate plea in your eyes and you gently pushed that concern towards him, hoping it would help push him out the warehouse. And you were half a second away from just pushing him through the window yourself.

Before he could voice any sort of opposition, you choose a smarter path. You decided to take on Wesley and keep him from getting a clear shot. You lifted your foot and dropped a sharp axe kick to kick the gun from his hand. Wesley threw a punch that you leaned away from, which only put you in Fisk’s grip. He slammed your head against the same beam you had jumped from earlier, splitting a gash from your hairline to your eyebrow.

Despite the pounding in your ear and spinning of your vision, you heard the glass shatter and you knew the Devil got away. While the blood slowly leaked down and into your eye, you tried to formulate a way out for yourself. 

“You can’t stand against us forever, Exodus. What will it take to earn your loyalty?” Fisk asked, a hand grabbing the back of your neck.

“I’m surprised you think I have any.” You answered angrily. “My loyalty is to myself… But my alliance is something different.”

“We’re listening.” Wesley said, holding a hand out towards Fisk as a silent request to let you go. Hesitantly he did, but not without throwing you flat on your face.

“This is probably the gaping head wound talking - thanks for that, by the way - but for the right price…” You said carefully as you got to your hands and knees. You had come up with it instantly, the idea to attempt a double agent role. “I may be willing to serve as… muscle through your endeavors. An intimidation factor, I guess.”

At that point, you were desperate to take him down. You needed something that you could use against him and an investigation from the outside was getting you nothing. You needed a way in, and there it was.

“And what price is that?” Fisk asked in interest.

You turned to sit and face the men before speaking. “Other than my usual fees, the Devil.”

Fisk scoffed but Wesley motioned for you to continue. He seemed to be the only one who wanted to make an actual deal, versus assuming you would do whatever you’re told.

“I won't be involved in anything that goes after him. I won’t tell you anything I know about him and you’re not allowed to ask… The Devil lives under my protection.”

“And the limits to what you will do for us?” Wesley asked intently, brows raised in accusation.

“If I’m against it, I’ll let you know… Until then, you can consider Exodus at your service.”

They agreed and let you go after you gave them a phone number. You gave them the number to your burner and clumsily made your way home. You were dizzy, muscles achy and head pounding. Your own emotions swirled in your head like a fog, muddling every thought you tried to conceive. The blood had been steadily blurring the vision in your right eye and you were worried you’d pass out before you got home. But somehow, via autopilot and muscle memory, you managed.

The next day in the office, only you and Karen had showed up. You covered the wound with gauze and hid out in Matt’s office for most of the day with the hopes of avoiding any and all questions. Of course, Karen asked if you were okay and you said that you had done it to yourself by accident because you weren’t paying a lot of attention the night before and she offered you a soft smile and a cup of coffee. It was rather sweet that she cared, given the fact that you two didn’t always get along the best.

“Hey.” Karen said after a long while of separate tasks.

“Hmm?” You asked, picking up your head from your doodles. There wasn’t much direction to go in for the tenement case that you knew of so you just found something to fill your time. You realized you had been sketching the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

Oh shit.

“I’m gonna take Ben to go look at this place I found. You gonna be okay by yourself?”

“Yeah, uh. I’ll try to call Matt again and then I’ll text you with what’s up with him… It’s weird that him and Foggy didn’t come in today, right?”

“I was more worried about this.” She tapped her own forehead in the spot where your gash was. “But yeah, it is a little weird.”

“Oh.” You chuckled and gingerly touched the tender area. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve hit my head harder than this, so it’s nothing.”

“Y/N…” She tried.

“I’m fine, Karen. Scouts honor.”

She smiled and so did you. Maybe Karen wasn’t so bad when she wasn’t flirting with Matt or putting herself in unnecessary danger.

“Okay, tough guy… Let me know if you hear from the guys?”

You gave her a thumbs up before pulling out your phone. You dialed Matt first and spun in the chair while you waited. 

“Text someone when you’re back in town, please!” You called out while the phone rang in your ear.

She laughed and you assumed she nodded before the door closed. You blew out a sigh while the line rang and rang until eventually, voicemail.

“Okay, first of all, rude.” You began. “You can’t just ignore me all day, Murdock. You know better… Second of all, you can’t just not come to work either. Call me back, please. This is getting weird… Don’t make me kick your ass.”

When you finished with the message, you tried Foggy. After a few rings, he answered with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi.” You beamed, glad one of them had answered. “I tried calling Matt but he didn’t answer. Are you with him?”

“Yeah, we’re at his place.” He said flatly.

“Okay… What happened? You sound pissed.”

“Yeah, Matt was-” Foggy hesitated before finishing. “Matt was in an accident.”

“Goddammit.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What happened?”

“He was in a car accident.”

“Please tell me he wasn’t driving.”

“No, he just- He got hit.”

“Well is he okay?” You pressed when you realized Foggy was being very vague and leaving things out. You didn’t have to be in the room to get that. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing, I’m just tired. Okay?”

“Y’know what. I’m just gonna come over.”

“No, just stay at the office.” Foggy said firmly, to which you scoffed. “We need you there.”

“No.” You said slowly. “I’m going to go to Matt’s place because Matty is just as much my friend as he is yours, Foggy.”

“There’s nothing you can do here.”

“I don’t care.”

“Y/N. I got this.”

You could vaguely hear Matt say something in the background.

“I don’t know how you always manage to get your way.” Foggy sighed into the phone. “He said it’s fine.”

“Good. Because I was coming over either way and I bet he knew that.” You said smugly before glancing around. There was no reason for you to stay at the office, but there seemed to be a reason at Matt’s for you not to show up just yet. “I’ll stay at the office till close and I’ll be sure to bring my favorite remedies. See you later..”

You shot a quick text to Karen before pulling out your burner phone. You spun it in your hands as you thought, the device now stained with the likelihood of contact from Wilson Fisk. You wanted to break it, to throw it against the wall or slam your foot down on it. But it was the only way you could talk to the Devil. You couldn’t lose that.

“What have I done?” You mumbled and sat back in your chair, tossing the phone onto the desk.

You blew out a sigh and ran a hand down your face. You decided you couldn’t hover over the burner, anticipating a call. Fisk couldn’t stop your life as Y/N. You were going to keep going and do what you needed to do when the time came. But until then, life would go on.

And for the moment, life was as simple as drawing your favorite local vigilante.

You packed up and locked up the office a little early before you headed home. You quickly changed out of your work clothes in favor of joggers and a sweatshirt before cooking a quick meal and starting fresh coffee. Granted, it was a bit late for coffee, but you made it decaf.

You fixed a quick meal of spaghetti and garlic bread. You filled two cups with lids, packed your first aid kit, and threw a couple water bottles into a bag. You packed it all up in another bag with some take-out silverware before making the quick walk to Matt’s.

You gave a quick knock before letting yourself in and announcing your arrival.

“Okay, I have food. I have coffee. I have some first aid stuff. And I have- Holy shit.” You said before putting the bags on the table. You hurried around the couch and knelt in front of Matt. “What the hell, Matthew?” You breathed.

“I’m sorry, I just- I wasn’t paying attention.” Matt said quietly, defeated. 

“This is why I don’t like you walking alone.” You sighed gently as you stood, placing a soft hand on his cheek. He leaned into your touch slightly, though Foggy scoffed behind you. The sound caused a quirk of your brow but you said nothing about it. “And you, Fogster. I brought stuff for you too because you sounded exhausted on the phone.”

“Yeah, it’s been one hell of a night.” Foggy agreed. “Hey, what happened to your head?”

“Hmm?” You hummed, having forgotten all about the large wound. “Oh, I busted my forehead on my cabinet door. I was putting dishes away last night and just wasn’t paying attention.”

“You’re both idiots.” Foggy sighed as he accepted your gifts with a nod.

“At least mine wasn’t a car.” You mumbled as you leaned over and handed Matt the tupperware. “Eat a little.. Please.”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“What’s with the tension, boys?” You asked finally when you could feel the heat of Foggy’s glare.

“He wants to say something.” Matt said plainly.

“Kinda don’t.” Foggy shook his head.

“Do you guys need a minute?” You asked carefully. “I feel like there’s something unfinished here and I’m not gonna deal with awkward tension around the office cause of this.”

“There is.” Foggy nodded. “But it can wa-”

“No, I can step outside.” You nodded. “I needed to make a call today anyways so I will be in the hall doing that while you two settle this.”

“Y/N, it’s fine. Just-” Foggy tried before sighing. “And she's gone.”

You were tempted to eavesdrop and find out what they were fighting about, but you weren’t lying about the call. You had meaning to talk to her all day, but the idea of hearing something you were dreading… It terrified you. You pulled out your burner and dialed the other number you had saved. Claire.

“Hello?” She said quickly.

“Claire? Hi, it’s uh- It’s Exodus.” You said quietly before glancing over your shoulder to see if the boys had some sort of reaction to it, but nothing happened so you figured you were in the clear. “I just wanted to see if you heard from our mutual friend. I left him in pretty bad shape last night…”

“Exodus, hmm? Sounds kinda like Y/N.” She teased.

“Aw, damn.” You sighed and leaned against the wall. “That obvious, huh?”

“If someone actually sat there and thought about it, yeah.” She chuckled. “And I did. He’s alive, last I knew.”

“Thank god.” You sighed in relief as you slid down to sit on the floor. “How bad was he?”

“First time I met him, he was half dead in my dumpster. This time, it was so much worse… What happened?”

“Dumbass went after Fisk on his own…”

She sighed in annoyance and you chuckled slightly.

“Yeah, you and me both. I got there after all the cuts cause he was fighting some guy named Nobu. But watching Fisk beat on him, I- I thought I was gonna lose him, Claire…”

“You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Surprisingly, yeah.” You chuckled, a small smile staying on your face. “I didn’t think him and I would be anything other than rivals but I see him as my partner and my friend. When I got there and he was covered in blood and in pain and just-“

“What matters is that you got there.” She cut in gently. “I know he’s grateful for that. You did good, Y/N.”

“Thanks… If you hear from him before I do, let him know I checked in?”

“You can’t call him yourself?”

“I gotta deal with a different friend… This life has to take priority.”

“Okay… Should I expect to hear from you more often?” She teased in an effort to lighten your mood.

“It’s always good to have a nurse on call, isn’t it?” You joked back and she laughed.

“I’m taking some time off to get away from… all of this so don’t die until I get back. And don’t let me find you half dead either, alright?”

“I’ll try… Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

You ended the call and stared at the other contact on your phone. Your fingers hovered over the call button as you considered calling your vigilante friend. Surely he would answer and tell you that everything was okay. But before you could, Foggy stormed out and slammed the door behind him.

“Good luck.” Foggy muttered. “And thanks for the food.”

You jumped up and shoved the phone away, forgetting almost immediately about your concern for the Devil. You hurried inside and placed yourself on the couch beside Matt. You angled your body towards him and crossed one leg under the other. You were quiet for a minute, giving Matt a chance to talk first. You let yourself get a deeper read on him and all you felt was a suffocating loneliness, a feeling of abandonment and failure.

“Matty…You okay?” You asked gently, now knowing where to really start. “And I don’t mean physically.”

“No.” He cried. “I’m not.”

“Come here.” You sighed sadly and leaned forward, gently grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into your chest.

His arms came around you as you leaned back. One hand rubbed the back of his neck while the other was in his hair. You felt his chest shake with silent sobs and all you could really do was mumbled soft words of consolation.

You had no idea what was going on between Matt and Foggy. You’d never seen them in a fight like that, but for all you knew, they’d been through that before in that long time you were gone. All you knew for sure was that you had to be neutral. You had to comfort Matt and support him, but you had to be open to Foggy’s perspective. They were both your friends, and no matter what you felt for Matt, you couldn’t automatically assume he was right.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked when he finally woke up the next morning. You were busying yourself in the kitchen and putting together plates for breakfast.

“It was uh- it was my fault.” He nodded as he tried to get up, wincing as he did so. You placed the plates on the table before turning to grab drinks.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You shook your head.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” He sighed as he sat at the table.

“The truth, maybe.” You sat at the table with him and slid his drink towards him. You didn’t want to fight with Matt, especially given everything he had on his plate with Foggy and his injuries. But you could tell he was hiding something. “What’s up with you and Foggy? What kind of car hit you? How did it happen? Why are you lying?”

“It was Japanese.” He answered. “And I should’ve been more careful.”

“I know you think you have to do this whole too-tough-for-the-world, nothing hurts me bullshit to compensate for whatever and so no one feels sorry for you. But you know I don’t buy into that so go ahead and try again.”

“It’s not-“ He sighed, leaning his forehead to his hand. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it? Because you’re ‘falling’ and ‘running into things’ a lot more than I’ve ever known you to. You’re getting hit by cars… Something else is going on and you don’t wanna tell me.”

“I could say the same about you.” He countered quickly.

You leaned back in your chair and lifted your head with a small challenge. You squinted in suspicion as you sat in silence, crossing your arms over your chest. You shifted in your seat and cleared your throat while you watched his expression. There was a quick flash of regret, like he wished he hadn’t said anything.

“No, go ahead. Finish that thought.” You nodded.

“Vostokoff.” He said simply. “Why did you need a fake name with Fisk? Why that name?”

“Same reason I pretended we were together. It was a cover.”

“Yeah, but you say that like it’s what you were supposed to do.”

“I felt that I needed to lie as a fail safe. I didn’t want to put a target on my forehead and put my name out there.”

“What do you really expect is gonna happen?” He leaned forward on his elbows. “What are you hiding, Y/N?”

Before you could offer a response, a light knock sounded at the door. You waited a moment and heard Karen calling for Matt.

“Eat your food before it gets cold.” You said quickly before standing and making your way to the door. You opened it to Karen with wide, worried eyes and a balloon.

“Cute balloon.” You nodded and she smiled bashfully. You welcomed her in and headed back to the table.

“You didn’t text me last night when you got back.” You called as you sat.

“Yeah, sorry. I just fell asleep when I got home.”

“Mhmm..”

“How’s your head?” She asked as she shrugged off her coat.

“It’s really sensitive.” You answered honestly. You glanced over at Matt and saw he had put his glasses back on. “I need to clean it and rebandage it but I need to make sure someone isn’t gonna trip over his damn coffee table.”

“I can keep an eye on him.” Karen offered as she surveyed the mess around the living room. “What the hell happened here?”

“Nothing, it’s fine.” Matt answered quickly.

“He’s cranky, don’t mind him.” You waved him off.

“Are we gonna sue?” Karen asked Matt as you sat back in your chair and picked at your plate. “Where were you when you got hit?”

“Does it matter?” Matt replied.

“It does, actually.”

“Especially if there were cameras.” You nodded.

“Especially if there really wasn’t a car.” Karen added.

“Would you look at that?” You mumbled into your glass. “No one believes your story.”

“Does this have anything to do with you seeing that Vanessa woman?” She asked before turning to you. “And you too.”

“Me?” You nearly choked on your drink.

“Yes. Both of you end up hurt after you two went together to see that woman. I’m sorry but I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“It was my fault, alright?” Matt insisted, slamming his fork down. “Can we leave it at that?”

“No.” Karen urged. And for once, you weren’t annoyed at her persistence. “Definitely not. Look at you two! You’re gonna tell me no one beat the crap out of you?”

“You’re right.” You sighed and turned in your chair to face her. “The other night, after we left the morgue… I didn’t go home. I went to a different bar, somewhere down in Brooklyn. I drank too much and a guy tried hitting on me. When I ignored him, he grabbed the back of my head and threw me down. My face hit the curb and busted open.”

Your story was a twisted version of the truth. You were grabbed and thrown around to the point when you had a massive gash on your forehead, but not due to unwanted sexual advances. Matt furrowed his brows and tilted his head as he listened to your story. You knew you were lying and you had a feeling he knew too, considering you weren’t hiding any of your emotions. A story like that should’ve brought something forward, whether it was fear or anger. But there was nothing.

“Shit, Y/N…” Karen sighed. “Are you alright? Did he-“

“No, I would’ve cut his dick off before he got a chance.” You shrugged before clearing your throat and hoping to move past the topic. “Was that all?”

“Uh, actually I found something… A piece of paper buried at the county clerk’s office, misfiled.”

“You got a new lead?” You asked hopefully. If you could get out of your arrangement with Fisk without having to do any of his dirty work, you were ready to jump at the chance. “Is that where you went yesterday?”

“Yeah, so I found Fisk’s mom’s marriage certificate for when she remarried. And it’s dated two years after she supposedly died.”

“She’s alive?” Matt asked.

“In a care facility upstate. Now, Ben and I took a drive and-“

“Karen.” Matt groaned. “Fisk probably has people watching.”

“I know but I- I didn’t leave my real name and-“

“Smart move.” You stared pointedly at Matt.

“You should’ve talked to one of us before you just ran off like that!” Matt continued.

“When? When you didn’t answer my calls?” Karen cut in quickly.

There was a beat of silence while Matt let her words sink in. You saw the direction of the conversation and pressed.

“Were you able to talk to her?” You asked.

“Yeah. She’s not all there but… She says Fisk killed his father when he was twelve… Bashed his head in with a hammer and she helped cover it up.”

“Shit.” You breathed. “It won’t be enough though… He was a minor.”

“It won’t put him in jail but it doesn’t line up with what he’s been saying, with everything that he’s altered. It might be enough to get people to look at him more closely.”

“From an old woman who’s not all there.” Matt scoffed.

“You got anything better?” You asked in annoyance. “At least she’s finding something. You’re just getting hit by imaginary cars.”

Matt sighed and leaned back in his chair. You wiped a hand down your face while the regret settled heavy in your stomach. You turned to Karen and decided you’d talk to Matt when you two had privacy.

“Have you talked to Foggy today?” You asked quietly.

“No… He wasn’t answering either.”

“Okay.. Can you wait for him at the office? Let him know what you found.”

“And tell him I said…” Matt began before shaking his head with a defeated sigh. “No, nevermind. Just be careful, please.”

“Y’know…” She said kindly as she came to the table. She took your hand in hers and grabbed Matt’s with the other. “You two should take that same advice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You nodded with a small smile.

“And I got you a..” She said before disappearing around the corner and coming back with the balloon. “There’s a monkey on it.” She put the string in Matt’s hand and you chuckled.

“It’s cute.” You smiled a bit wider.

“I’ll talk to you later?” She turned to you.

“Yeah, we’ll talk after lunch.” You nodded before she left.

You sighed and stood, collecting the empty dishes. Matt’s attention followed your movements but you made a point to keep your eyes on your task. You dropped the dishes off in the sink before wiping your hands down your sweater.

“You mind if I take a shower? Can I trust you not to run into a door?” You tried to joke, though you knew your voice came out rough.

“Y/N.” He sighed.

He held a hand out for you as he stood and met you halfway. You opened your mouth to argue but were silenced when you nearly ran into him. His hands found your arms and he held you in place. You had to tilt your head up slightly to look at his lens-covered eyes. Part of you wanted to take those off and see him but given your current tension, it probably wouldn’t be the smartest idea.

“I want to tell you everything but I.. I can’t risk losing you, not again.”

“Using my own words against me, hmm?” You cracked a small smile. “You won’t lose me, Matty. After everything I’ve been through, I don’t think there’s anything that would push me away. But I guess it’s fair… Just tell me more convincing lies if you insist on lying, alright?”

Matt chuckled and moved his hands to your cheeks. He gave your face a small squeeze and you felt the blush creep up your neck. Your eyes went wide as you rested your hands on his wrists.

You never knew love could be so soft, so light. But that’s exactly what it felt like with Matt. As annoyed as you were, everything fell away when his hands were on your face and he smiled softly at you.

“Deal.” He said softly.

“Okay.” You nodded before clearing your throat and taking a few steps back so his hands fell away. “I’m gonna clean up, twenty minutes maybe. Don’t do anything stupid.”

You grabbed your bag from the armchair and locked yourself in the bathroom. You took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror and were so glad Matt couldn’t see you. Your cheeks were the fiercest shade of red and you could’ve sworn you saw pink swirls dancing in your pupils. You blinked hard and shook your head so when you looked again, the soft color was gone.

You had to get that new power under control.

You took a quick shower and took an extra few minutes to examine the extent of the slice on your forehead. It was red around the edges, slightly swollen and bright red with small droplets of fresh blood forming. You fanned the wound with your hand in hopes of helping it dry out. The very edges were beginning to scab so you left it uncovered. Instead, you just braided your hair out of the way.

When you left the bathroom, you found Matt laying on his bed and his hand on his side. You squinted in suspicion as you padded forward slowly, noticing the red stain growing on his jacket. You cursed silently and fished your kit from your bag.

“So what part of ‘nothing stupid’ did you not understand?” You scolded as you came to his side. You smacked his hands away and carefully unzipped his jacket.

He groaned as he wiggled it off his arms and used it to wipe the extra blood off his hands. You took it from him so you could toss it to the floor. You threaded your needle before sitting on the bed beside him.

“I just wanted to see how much I could move.” He reasoned.

“You shouldn’t be moving at all.” You continued, tilting your head side to side to silently mock him. “You need to just relax and let yourself heal.”

“Sorry.” He said quietly as you knotted the thread.

You sighed and taped the gauze over the wound. You pushed your kit to the nightstand and dropped your hands in your lap. Your eyes glanced over Matt’s torso, taking in all the cuts and scars and bruises.

What was he up to?

“How’s your head?” He asked as he scooted down the bed.

“It’s healing… Slowly.” You nodded. “Doesn’t really hurt though.”

“Can I?” He asked as he pulled a new jacket on before coming closer with a hand out for you.

“Be gentle.” You said as you guided his hand to the injury.

His thumb grazed the length of it while his fingers slid into your hair. You watched as he frowned slightly as he felt the other side. His hand lingered there a moment and you had to gently move it away.

“It’s not that bad.” You reasoned as you stood.

Matt shook his head and pulled you toward him for a warm embrace. You hesitated in putting your arms around him but when he held you tighter, you gave in and hugged him tightly. He winced slightly but refused to let you go.

“Matt?” You mumbled against his chest.

“Hmm?” He answered.

“Whatever you’re doing. Whatever the reason you’re getting your ass kicked… I get it.” You said, taking a step away to look up at him. You thought about all your own injuries you’ve accrued since Exodus was created, how you let yourself take those beatings and bruises and bloodied fists so those kids didn’t have to. “Just don’t let it take you from us, okay?”

“You don’t gotta worry about me.” He said lowly.

You tapped his side, just above the gauze. “This tells me otherwise… And that name you asked me about earlier… Melina Vostokoff was a woman who was there in the place I was raised. She taught me a lot… Put me through a lot, but one thing really stuck.”

“What was that?”

“Pain only makes you stronger… Don’t overdo whatever this is. Please.”

“I won’t.”

Before you could say anything else, your burner vibrated in your pocket. You took a few steps away from his embrace and checked the screen. An unknown number shown back at you and your heart dropped.

“I uh… I gotta go take care of this.” You said sadly. You glanced around and realized you had your stuff all over. “I’ll come back for all my stuff before the night’s over, okay?”

“Be careful, Y/N/N.” He came over and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Through that gentle gesture, you felt his concern and hesitance. He didn’t want you to go but you knew he wasn’t going to try to stop you.

“Yeah… You too.”

You hurried out the door and down the stairs, calling back about halfway down.

“What?” You said sharply.

“I have a job for you.” Wesley said flatly, as if it should’ve been obvious. “Meet me in the warehouse.”

“Cryptic.” You rolled your eyes as you headed home. “What is it?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not your little boyfriend.” The irritation was clear in his voice. “Are you backing out of our deal already?”

You ground your teeth together and pulled your phone from your ear, leaning back to let out a string of curses before returning to the call.

“Fine. How soon?”

“Do you really think I’d call you if it wasn’t urgent?” He spat.

“I’m not a mind reader, dumbass.” You rolled your eyes. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

You hurried the rest of the way home and got changed. You hesitated as you reached your window, wondering if you really could just not go. But you knew that Wesley knew too much about you. He knew you worked at Nelson and Murdock. He knew you cared about the boys.

Your hands were tied.

As you got to the warehouse, you were instantly hit with the bitter taste of fear. It settled on your tongue and it nearly made you gag. You tried to push it away and focus on something else, any other emotion, and all you found was the buzzing feeling of arrogance.

You walked in slowly, hand hovering over your belt while you tapped on your goggles. You saw two heat signatures, though one was noticeably fainter than the other. Before you entered the room completely, you hid out of sight and listened to what Wesley was saying.

“…already done whatever damage you could do, it wasn’t necessary. You were nobody.”

That line made your anger peak as it ricocheted in your head, changing voices until you pushed the sound away.

“…supposed to go away, Ms. Page.” Wesley finished.

You stepped into the room at that point, folding your hands behind your back so your gun was in easy reach. Wesley nearly didn’t notice your presence as he continued until you were beside Karen.

“And there she is.” He smiled and gestured to you.

“Is she supposed to scare me?” Karen asked weakly without looking at you. She didn’t need to look to know who was there.

“No.” You answered while you stared down Wesley. “Why am I here, exactly?”

“This.” He said simply, pulling his gun and placing it on the table. “Though I assume you bring your own.”

“Do we have your attention?” He asked pointedly, though Karen said nothing. “Hello!? Could you nod or something?”

“Hey.” You said firmly as your fingers brushed your weapon. “Back off, alright?”

“Do you love this city?” He ignored you.

“I haven’t been here long enough.” She said quietly.

“I find that a week or so is ample time to-“

“Cut the shit, Wesley.” You sighed and took a challenging step forward. “You’re stalling, biding time till some dramatic moment. I don’t have time to deal with this, alright? I have a life outside of whatever stupid shit you and Fisk try to use me for. I’m leaving.”

“You leave and I put a bullet in her head.” He sighed as he leaned forward. “Then Mr. Nelson’s. Then, when I know you’re around to see it, Mr. Murdock’s.”

“You touch any of them and I will put you in the ground myself.” You threatened lowly as you closed the space between you and the table. “Do I have your attention?”

You felt Karen’s confused eyes on you but you didn’t falter from your position. You stared down Wesley until he was first to break eye contact, the first to back down. He could cover up a lot of reactions but you knew. You knew you intimidated him, maybe even scared him.

“You know, there’s a layer of grime this city leaves on your skin. The kind that doesn’t wash away… Like the stain of blood on someone’s hands.”

“Maybe you should move.” Karen tried and you chuckled, backing away a few steps. Every word from Wesley sent your fingers scooting closer and closer to your gun. It sent shockwaves of a sharp desire for violence through your muscles and it tingled down to your fingertips.

“I’m here because I’m needed.”

“By Fisk…” You scoffed.

“He loves this city, same as her.” He pointed to you. “And your pal in a mask… Though, he loves it in ways I never understood, almost as much as he loves his mother.”

“Oh shit.” You said quietly and glanced at Karen.

“You see, I’m surprised she remembered you, but you must’ve made quite the impression. And Mr. Fisk would be deeply disturbed if he knew you found her, and even more so that you had gone to see her.”

“You haven’t told him?” Karen asked shakily.

“He’s preoccupied with more important matters so I decided to have our new friend help me address the situation. She’s truly a wonder. Have you seen her work? She’s immensely skilled. It’s easy to see why she was a favorite in the Red Room.”

“If you’re gonna kill me-” She turned to face you and her eyes shot to the long slice on your forehead before back to your eyes. “-just do it.”

“No, I’m not-“ You tried before Wesley’s laugh cut you off.

“I’m here to offer you a job, Ms. Page.” He explained. “You’ve proven yourself resourceful with a commendable ability to convince people that your way is the right way.”

“What exactly do you want from her?” You asked carefully.

“She’s going to convince Mr. Urich that Wilson Fisk is a good man, a man this city needs. Then she’ll spread that gospel to everyone she’s infected with her lies.”

“I’d rather die.”

“But you won’t be the first. Mr. Urich will get that honor, then Mr. Nelson, Mr. Murdock, Ms. Y/L/N. After that, friends, family. Anyone you’ve ever cared about.”

“Wilson Fisk killed his father.” You spoke simply, drawing quick head turns from both parties. “How is that a good man? How is that the man this city needs? Now, I know I’ve killed but at least I never killed my own blood.”

“Maybe that’s because you have no blood of your own.” He tilted his head in annoyance.

“Yeah, maybe.” You nodded. “But I’m not afraid for people to see who I really am. I don’t hide my crimes. That piece you guys got in the paper made sure of that.”

“You hide everything.” He insisted, nearly threatened.

“I don’t hide at all.” You shook your head with condescension. “I keep people at arm’s length to keep them safe. I value the people around me as more than pawns in a game… But I assume you wouldn’t know what that feels like.”

You pulled your gun from your belt finally after Karen had grabbed the gun from the table. You held it out with one hand while the other held up your charging Widow’s Bite. You saw the blink red as the bright glow was growing from your peripherals. All the while you felt Wesley’s fear spike.

“Looks like you’re outgunned, Wesley.” You said smugly.

“Did you really think I’d put a loaded gun on the table where you could reach it?” He tried, but you could feel the uncertainty. He was bluffing.

“Hmm.” You shrugged and pulled your trigger, sending a bullet into his shoulder. “Mine’s loaded so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

Karen gasped loudly as the shot went off and Wesley groaned once the bullet hit him. You tried to bite back the proud smirk but it slipped through. Wesley glared at you while you chuckled darkly.

“I really didn’t wanna make this messy.” You spoke confidently. “I really really didn’t but you went too far.”

“You think she’ll keep your secret?” He spoke tightly, groaning in pain while he held his shoulder. “She’ll tell them, even write a whole news story about your truth. You’ll lose everything.”

“In the Red Room, I was taught to bury anyone who ever crossed me. And now, you’ve really crossed me. Given that’s the only thing anyone wants me for, I should follow those teachings, no? … Consider my deal with your boss over. I don’t usually like to do this, but I’ll be glad when you’re dead.” You said simply. 

“You think he’ll let you walk away after this?” He chuckled. “Once he finds out what you’ve done here…”

“I think he doesn’t have a choice.” You smiled.

When he made a move to stand, he forced your hand. You fired your Widow’s Bite first, the red burst of electricity landing in the center of his chest. It burned through his clothes and skin, searing into his body and the burnt smell of flesh and muscle seeped into the air. You had to take a step back to give yourself air to breathe.

Karen fired her gun soon after, emptying the clip into Wesley’s already dead frame. You were quick to shove your gun away and help her up once you felt the depth of her panic.

“C’mon, we gotta go.” You said quickly.

She sat there in a quiet daze, likely in shock of what she’d done. She didn’t realize he was always dead before she fired so she didn’t kill him. You did.

“Karen. Listen to me.” You put your hands on either side of her head and turned her head to face you. Her eyes darted between yours, panic reflecting back at you. Though you hated to use it on a friend, you used your powers and pushed down her panic to a reasonable level. You helped her find a sense of calm, a sense of reason and rationale. “I know that this is a lot, but I need you to come with me, okay? Right now… You didn’t do this. I did. Let me get you out of here.”

She nodded quickly and you stepped aside so she could stand while you were shoving the gun from Wesley into your belt. You wiped your sleeve against the table to clear any fingerprints while she grabbed her purse. You grabbed her arm and hurried her out, leading her down alleys and empty streets until you reached the alley for your building. You pushed her up the fire escape until you reached your apartment and you ushered her in.

You shut the window slowly, trying to stall and figure out the right words. But there were none. There was nothing you could say that would make this confession easier on her or you. You gently pulled your mask off and turned to face her.

It was never supposed to be an accident if someone close to you found out. You wanted to tell them of your own accord. But you knew the sentence “I am Exodus” wouldn’t be easy to say in front of Matt and Foggy.

Maybe you’d be able to just not tell them…

“I’m sorry.” You said softly when she finally looked back at you. You had begun removing your belt while you spoke. “I know this is a lot but-“

“I killed him…” She muttered, falling against your wall and sliding down until she hit the floor. “I- I killed him…”

“No.” You hurried over and knelt in front of her, dropping your belt to the floor with a loud clatter. “You didn’t do that, okay? I did. This-“ You held up your wrist. “This is what killed him. I promise, it wasn’t you.”

“You… You’re…” She swallowed hard and took a moment to actually see you in your suit. “You’re Exodus?”

“Yeah…”

“And you- You killed those cops?”

“That was Fisk.” You countered quietly. “Karen, I know this is a lot to try and process but I-“ You sighed. “I have to ask… Are you gonna tell the guys?”

“They don’t know?”

“No… Foggy thinks I’m a terrorist and Matt’s too Catholic to understand.”

“I…” She shook her head. “I won’t- won’t say anything.”

“Thank you.” You said softly but your relief was short lived.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“The Red Room took me in before I was-“

“How long have you been working for Fisk?” She corrected.

“I made the deal last night… Karen, I swear to you, on my life. I just- I needed a way in to find new leads. I was desperate and I wasn’t thinking and…”

“Did you know he was gonna like Elena?” She asked weakly.

“I had no idea. He told me and the Devil last night that he used her to test our ‘weakness’ for women and kids. She’s dead because of me, but I promise you, I didn’t do it.”

“Okay…”

“Listen, I understand this is a lot to handle. Everything tonight has been… overwhelming to take on at once. But you’re more than welcome to stay here. The couch pulls out and I can get you some comfy clothes and blankets.”

“I didn’t think you liked me that much.” She chuckled weakly.

You realized she had been crying and you nearly broke. You were long past tired of people getting hurt when you were around.

“Trusting people is hard for me… I’ve only really had the guys so I wasn’t sure how to be friends with a girl. All the ones I’ve known just wanted to be better than me.” You scratched awkwardly at your neck. “But I do wanna try and be friends… Matt and Foggy trust you. That’s enough for me.”

“Yeah.” She smiled softly. “I’d like that…”

“The boys will be happy to see us getting along.” You teased lightly as you helped her to her feet. “And now you have a friend that can kick anyone’s ass.”

“You should’ve seen Foggy with that softball bat that night in the alley.”

You had to laugh at that as you went to your dresser for comfy clothes. You handed them to Karen before moving to a cabinet for blankets. You directed Karen to the bathroom before you opened up the couch.

“Y/N?” She asked as you were headed back to your room.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know him? The Man in the Mask?”

“I don’t… When we first started, I made a point that we wouldn’t tell the other who we were. I didn’t want there to be leverage that people could use against us. I thought it’d be safer for us both but now… Now I wonder if he made it through the night.”

“You guys make a good team.” She nodded. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night, Karen.”

[astrohnova]

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ransom hugh drysdale thrombey x latina!camgirl!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 2.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 Ransom and you have a complicated relationship. But his fucking makes it simple.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 +18 ONLY. IF YOU’RE A MINOR, i’ll kick your ass and also block u. insults, explicit language, smut (sex toy use, filmed sex, filmed masturbation, dumbification, breeding kink, squirting mention, spit play, blowjob, rough sex (all consented tho) creampie, daddy kink, "bitch", "whore", "cumslut", "slut"), use of spanish phrases without translation. WHEN IN DOUBT, DON’T READ. THAT’S IT.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

I’m new at writing so if I should add more tags let me know. Also, english is not my first language so it might be a little weirdly worded so just let me know and i’ll change whatever’s wrong. I’m sorry

If you reblog and leave me some feedback I’ll kiss your mouth. With tongue.

The new lingerie set you’d bought made you feel savage. You knew it was something that your followers would enjoy. You decided to appear soft and delicate today, a good girl. So you turned your camera on, and while you were waiting for your payers to come in, you were sucking a lollipop endearingly, to gradually rile up the people watching you.

The candles you had lit along with the perfume you had spread in the room, with the soft music sounding in the background set the ambient, and your hand was gloved sending goosebumps through every part of skin you caressed. You were just fueling every sense, aislating yourself from the real world. You put the lollipop down and laided your back onto the headboard of your bed, with the computer at your feet, your clothed pussy in the first plane for your followers to admire and the clothed hand making it’s way there.

You’ve bought this glove recently, it was a sex toy. Made of black latex and a different head on each of your fingers, along with different textures that would let you see the stars. You even put a vibrator inside the middle one, just touching the point of your middle finger. Every head was different and enticing. And the vibrations between your thighs, so close to you sensible cunt left you gasping. Your lips and eyes stand out from the mask that you had on your face, sensual and with the same color as your underwear.

You looked straight to the camera when you grazed the vibrator contained by the latex over your pussy, while you gasped and then moaned, laying your head back. You could hear the sound of subscriptions coming in, and you suggestively moaned before pulling your panties to the side with your uncovered hand and brushing the vibrator on your clit, whining lightly. Then you put one of your fingers inside of you, and moaned directly to the camera, while you rubbed soft circles on your clit with your thumb, your belly contracting gently, your nipples hardening.

You took your finger off and brought it to your lips. And before you kept the show going, you said “Thank you for the gift, I’m enjoying myself so much. I hope you get off too”. You inserted two fingers in your pussy and moaned out loud.

📷

He was watching you going down the street, completely mesmerized. Just like the other men and women seeing you. He was smoking, but the smoke got into his eyes, for not being careful; his whole attention was on you. He threw the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it.

“Que hermosa, mamita.” A cute man complimented you, and you smiled and winked.

“Gracias mi amor. So pretty yourself.” You complemented and left him with his mouth open. But compliments were responded to, and he was a beautiful man.

You were walking with so much confidence and all eyes were naturally attracted to your presence, in that dress that hugged you perfectly, in those heels that took you some time to accustom to but now you walked like on a runway. And those striking stockings that you were wearing. You really were feeling yourself, that’s what a good night of orgasms and money gets you, really. You had earned so much, just had a few video requests that you had to fulfill and this month's cuota would be filled. And with this new job you had landed, things were starting to get off for you and your family

He was about to kill all the tigers that were stomping in your way, looking at you the way he did. Thinking the same things that he did, incited by that fucking dress, that gracefullness of your soul, and the barm coat that flew with the wind as you ate the wole street up. He was meeting you on this old cozy bar, after seeing that video of you yesterday he was riled up and just needed to be inside your warm pussy this cold afternoon, maybe with the coffee that you were gonna drink while you argued still stained on your mouth, that he was going to pry from your willing mouth as you gasped against him, with your mixed spit going down your chin from the sloppy kisses that he loves, and your breathy whines that had him rubbing his crotch against your stomach. And he couldn’t wait to see if you were wearing the lingerie that he had bought you, with that color that highlighted your skin undertone and got his dick leaking precum. Last night you were glorious, and today you were a walking goddess.

“Hola, imbécil.”

“Now that’s not very nice, especially after all the money I gave you last night.”

“Mhhm. Others gave me more, papito.”

“That so?”

“It is.”

“I got something more that they can’t give you. And you’re driving me feral, walking like that towards me, flirting with other guys. I thought I made it clear that you were mine.”

“And I thought I made it clear that I was my own. Especially after last night, did you see me get myself off that hard? And after the video endend I got so fucking happy, so fucking horny with all the comments, the views, the pictures that I got that I went to sleep humping my pillow.”

“Pictures?”

“Oh yes, I got so many pictures of so many pretty cocks daddy”

“You were thinking of other cocks, slut?” He questioned, grabbing you by your arm and putting you against a wall as you laughed.

“Not only thinking, papi, I found this hot guy that was just drooling for me, and he made me drool for him so much. The sheets were so messy that I had to change them after he left.” He gripped your throat harder, just growling furiously.

“Fucking bitch, I’m gonna stuff my cock so deep than your throat to make you regret everything you just said.”

“But daddy, I haven’t told you the best part yet!” You bite your lip, seeing his predatory eyes that wanted to devour you entirely. And you kept going without remorse. “The mattress was so wet too. You never reached that, did you? You want me to think that I’m yours but I got others treating me better.” You pouted, all that you were saying was true and seeing this look in his eyes was such a sight. You almost whined from his look alone.

He grabbed you by the arm and took you to his car, getting on it just right before you on the driver’s side. Wildly driving back to his place to get you fucking stuffed

“You’re driving me insane, bitch. Did you fucking curse me?”

“I did, every dick that enters this sweet pussy, plastic or meat, gets obsessed.”

“Don’t talk like that, making me more horny.”

“I’m sure your hand can help you, guapo.”

“My hand? Are you kidding me? You put that dress on, that looks more like a fucking t-shirt, to come see me and then you leave me with my hand? No, fucking whore You’re giving me your mouth. I have to wipe that smug smile and that boy’s taste off your lips. So suck, vicious little bitch.” So you did, with the loudest and a porn-like moan you quickly undid his briefs pulling his cock out, sucking the tip first.

“Daddy, the lollipop yesterday got me thinking so much about your cock. I couldn’t wait to taste you like this again.” He grabbed you by the hair at the red light, roughly pulling you up to met his face, yours pleasure filled, with drool over your chin, the same that had dirtied his pants.

“You fucking slut, were you just drilling me up to make me get rough on you?”

“No daddy, I did fuck the boy. That was yesterday morning, and then yesterday night I found a little time to think about you.”

“Yeah? Now all you're gonna have in your head and your mouth is me.” He shoved his cock deep into you, and when you gagged he pushed himself further and kept you there. “”Breathe, make this nice for me. I know you can do it.” You could, you enjoyed this so much, your paties were drenched. And what would he do when he notices you weren't wearing the pair he bought for you. Hopefully, break you. You started moving your hips, moving some friction in your pussy, and tastefully wiggling your ass for Ransom to admire.

“That’s right, cumslut. I'll make your ass fire up later too.”

📷

You screamed sensually when he hit your ass. You were on all fours, head down ass up, exposed to Ransom. He was filming your glistening pussy and your delicious ass that bounced on his torso asking for more pain. Delicious pain.

“I’m gonna break you with my cock baby. But after you ask nicely. Your followers want to know what a whore you are.”

“Such a whore! I want your dick papi, you fuck me so good. I want you to leave me braindead, drooling, filled. Please, please, please papi. Cogeme, fuck me. Te tengo muchas ganas.” You whined so hard, so annoyingly empty and desperate.

“What a good girl, making daddy so happy. Here you go, cunt.” He put one hand on your ass and thrusted into you aggressively. He positioned the camera to capture your joy filled face and his hips slamming in you. He didn’t stop nor slowed down, and started rubbing your clit to make you man loader, and you started to move back against him.

“You’re such a greedy little girl, you want all of me. ‘Cmon, give it to me now.”

“Ah!” You opened your mouth in a silent scream when you came, wetting him with your fluids.

And he quickly turned you around, on your back with your legs spread to search for his own high. But you were so sensible you started to close your legs and tried to squirm away from him. But he grabbed your face and spit on your cheek.

“Don’t you fucking dare pushe me away. You take it. Open your fucking legs. Open them wide.” You did, and he used you like a doll, with your mind swimming in pleasure, in his gorans in your ears and his hair caressing your face. He came, pushing himself against you and spilling into the condom. He moved away from you and grabbed the camera, turning it off. Then you were gonna edit the video a little bit, cropping some parts to upload to twitter and the full part you were gonna send it to your special subscribers. You gathered yourself, going to the bathroom to wash yourself a little bit, and coming with a cigarette in your mouth, already lit. You threw yourself on the bed.

“We… We have to stop doing this.” Ransom turned himself to you, taking the cigarette out of your hand and smoking it.

“Baby, you say that everytime. And then you do shit like today.”

“I know. But it’s different now, Hugh.”

“What the fuck you calling me that for?”

“‘Cause I got a new job. Lisa’s personal assistant. And I don’t intend to be higher than all the employees you ask to call you that and then go ahead and disrespect them.”

“You don’t have to work for shit, baby. I’ll pay everything for you. You just keep making those videos and the rest is on me”

“What? Like a sugar daddy? No jodás.” You grabbed another cigarette for yourself, so this dipshit wouldn’t take it away from you

“I mean it baby, I can give you the world, just let me”

“I already have the world papito, and I got it all on my own.” He hummed, and his eyes lit up when you called him ‘daddy’ in spanish, in this intimacy. With your body still displayed for him, through which he roamed his eyes in.

“Papito?” He repeated with an accent. “Maybe I can make a mama out of you....” He burned the cigarette out and took yours off too.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You complained in a moan when he turned you around, on your belly with your hands by your head and his entire muscular, heavy and warm body sprayed out on you. He then pushed deep into you.

“Get off me, Ransom.” You complained in a gasp.

“But I’m so deep ‘side you... I just have to get this shit off me to fill you up.“ He still had his condom on, but he hurriedly got it off and dived inside you again.

“What?! Don’t you dare. Get. The hell. Off.”

“Don’t lie to me princess, you want me to fill this pussy. You’ll be a fucking queen, in my arms, being spoiled with my money. I’ll take care of you and all the kids you’re gonna give me.”

“Ransom…” Your accent was spilling, and your resistance was getting away from you, his words and promises stained in your brain. “Fucking dick.”

“Nobody takes me like you, gripping me like that. You’re just a whore for me, ain’t you? Want all of me.”

“Ah, Ransom, you’re so deep.” You whined, your belly contracting.

“What do you want, honey? I wanna hear you beg for it”

“I-- Please Ransom. Please, please, please llename. Por favor, papi!” You moaned when he started pushing into you again. Last round had been intense and you had little break, so naturally you didn’t last long. You came screaming Ransom’s name, free to do so without a camera in front of you. And he was so close too, his mind winded up with getting you pregnant, with images of your belly full, your tasty breasts with all the milk he was gonna drink. He was goraning so much, your pussy grabbing him so hard, pushing him farther inside of you.

“Are you gonna be a good mama for me?”

“The best, daddy! Just please, please fill me.” And he did, with the loudest groan. To then turn you around and start admiring your tits, your body, getting inside your head with compliments of the mommy you were gonna be. And all the videos you were gonna make with your horniness, with your huge titis and that round belly. How he wanted to cover you in cum and get it on camera to show that you were his, cause getting you pregnant just wasn’t enough. And after that, he went down to eat his leaking cum out of you and prepared you for the next round.

[shig-a-shig-ah]

Hey mootie I was wondering if your requests are still open, and you were comfortable if you could do Shiggy with a Trans man s/o who has a ridiculously high sex drive. Just nothing takes the edge off. Just the s/o can go several rounds and it concerns Shiggy. I don’t have anything else to add other than I just wanna get raw dogged by my husband 😔👊🏻 feel free to ignore if you don’t wanna do this. I just am thirsting hardcore for my fav villain boss again.

Moot I could never ignore this, I fucking love it too much and I am very flattered and touched you thought to ask me for this. I focused a little more on the ‘high sex drive’ and ‘raw dogged’ parts of this, but I think I got the concern in there too. I seriously had so much fun writing this one <333333333

» pairing: shigaraki tomura x transmasc!reader 

» cw: insatiable horniness, thigh riding, penetrative sex, some AFAB terminology, teeny-tiny mention of HRT. 18+, minors DNI. 

» a/n: I am not transmasc, exactly, just tried to draw on what I’ve heard from several transmasc people about being on T and being super horny all the time. So, please feel free to let me know if there’s any language I should adjust, or additional tags I should add that I didn’t think about! 

» wc: 1.3k 

The dream you were having is already slipping away when your eyes flutter open, but you make no effort to cling to it. The way you feel makes clear it was another one of those dreams, the ones you keep having that are yet another symptom of the hormones you're flooding your body with on a weekly basis. They leave your skin flushed and sweaty in the aftermath, that familiar ache pulsing at your center. Throbbing.

It's an arousal so overbearing that it borders on painful, has you curling into the pale-haired man sleeping next to you, fisting at his shirt as you slot yourself against the firm muscle of his thigh, your hips already grinding and tiny whimpers clawing their way up from your parched throat. Any self-consciousness you might feel about this—humping your swollen sex against his leg in the dead of night—is far outweighed by your desperate need for relief.

He starts to slowly stir as you increase the pace, chasing a release that will bring no more than a temporary reprieve at best, and that often offers no real reprieve at all. Somewhere beyond the heat roiling under your skin, you feel gloved fingers tracing over your back.  

"Again?" Tomura murmurs, his raspy voice thick with sleep and tinged with concern. You can only nod and mewl pathetically in response, not slowing even the slightest when he shifts, your chest pressing flat against his as he tugs you atop him. It's followed by his lips pressing soothingly against the crown of your head.

You use that change in position to your advantage, working yourself harder against him, burying your face in his torso to muffle your whines as you ride his thigh all the way to your peak, your own legs trembling as your core clenches around nothing.

Tomura doesn't wait for you to come down—knows you won't, not when you get like this. He's already using one hand to peel away your slick-soaked boxer briefs and shoving his own pants below the jut of his hips, just enough to guide you on to his waiting erection.

You're fluttering at the invasion the moment he's inside, rocking yourself back against his movements, and fuck, Tomura has mixed feelings about what the testosterone has done to you—can't help the pangs of concern and sympathy that plague him as you suffer through a seemingly unending haze of arousal—but he also loves this. Loves how desperate and needy it makes you for him, and how responsive you are to the simplest of touches.

You whimper when he slides a hand beneath your shirt to pinch lightly at one sensitive nipple, watching your face screw up into that expression he finds so becoming—your brows knitted and your lips twisted with frustration, choked sobs spilling out every time your stiff, puffy nub catches on his pelvis. It's as though you can barely handle the sensations, as though it's too much to take, but he knows it's what you need.

"Shh," he whispers, even as he thrusts up into you a little harder, angling his hips to stroke against that sweet spot inside in just the right way, obviously working to send you over the edge again. "You're okay, I've got you."

"Tomu—" your hands tangle into the white fluff his hair, your voice a pitiable pule "—Tomu, please. Need it so bad."

"I know, sweet boy. Don't worry, I'll take care of you." The softness in his voice has your heart squeezing, warmth spreading through your chest, because you know it's true. He's been so patient, even though you've been so shamefully demanding.

Even now he wastes no time making good on that promise, dipping his hand to roll your clit between deft fingers, that added pressure enough to send you hurtling over the edge again. You keen as he strokes you through it, rutting into you faster until his own hips are stuttering and he joins you in that ecstasy.

His cracked lips catch your own when he cums, his tongue licking into your mouth for a kiss that's long and deep, the two of you not separating until he's slumping beneath you, crimson eyes half-lidded. He lifts a calloused thumb to trace over your quivering lower lip.

"Does my handsome boy need more?" he asks, and it's only then you realize you're still fidgeting atop him, that briefly sated ache already returning.

Your face heats up as you nod, embarrassed, but Tomura only grins lasciviously and rolls you off him, arranging you on all fours, grinding his already-swelling length against the curve of your ass and then gliding it over your soaked slit as you whine.

Some days Tomura likes to tease, likes to make you beg for it, but not when you're like this. No, he means it when he swears he'll take care of you, would never even dream of prolonging your misery, no matter how much he might enjoy seeing you writhing and libidinous.

If he's being honest, he enjoys this urgency, too, relishes sinking his length into your soaked, greedy cunt, and the way you yelp in response, bucking feebly to meet his thrusts before you're quickly overwhelmed, collapsing under his efforts. His hands gripping your hips are the only thing keeping you in any way upright as your face presses into the bed, the mattress dampening your cries as you drool against the sheets, lost in the sensation of him stretching you wide.

The head of his cock strokes just right against that sensitive place inside as he pumps himself in and out, enough to have that knot in your belly tightening yet again, and when his thumb moves to brush at your clit it only spurs you even closer to your next release. He keeps his touch gentle, that sensitive nub already tender and overstimulated from the constant attention it demands.

Tomura can feel your slick walls pulsing around his cock as he works you over, that physiological reaction quickly joined by your high-keyed cries. He runs one hand along your back again, trying to comfort you even as he encourages you come apart for him.

"That's my—a-ah—good boy. Cum for me as many—fuck—" he swears as your walls clench again, harder this time "—as many times as you need."

That permission is all it takes and then you're crumbling, quaking as another orgasm tears through you, white spots swimming behind your eyes as you tremble and squirm. He fucks you straight through your release again, so rough and unrelenting that you can't quite tell where that climax ends and the next one begins, can't do anything more than clutch at the sheets and sob with gratitude, practically writhing with overstimulation until he's burying himself to the hilt and filling your insides with yet another rush of his hot seed.  

You can feel those combined juices dribbling down your thighs when he finally withdraws, collapsing next to you and tugging you once again to his chest, softly petting your hair as he places a kiss to your sweaty forehead, and you cling to him gratefully.

Tomura doesn't speak, only enjoys this brief respite knowing that you'll soon be restless again. That's okay; he'll fuck you again if he's had enough time to recover, and if he hasn't he'll bury his face into your sloppy heat and enjoy the strange thrill of tasting your juices mixing together.

No matter what, he'll always make sure you're taken care of.

[its-me-im-coraline]

Little Puppet // Ethan Torchio, Damiano David

words // 4261, i have never written this much in one go my whole life, holy shit

warnings // smut, degradation, sub!reader, name calling (ya know, slut and stuff like that), threesome, oral, no explicit mention of protection, but obvi that's not how it should go in real life, anyways.... thats all i can think right now. has not been proofread

pairing // Ethan Torchio x F!Reader x Damiano David (leaning more to Ethan)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. im going with female reader cause that's how it was requested. here's the smut playlist, def listen to it when you get to the smut part, or the whole time, whatever you want. thanks to anyone who adds songs to the playlist 💘

i feel like i cpupve made it kinkier but at 1 am and with over 4000 words i was a little tired to do that.

request // yes, here

summary // Ethan can not stop thinking of sharing his fwb with his bandmate, Damiano. A thought sparked from a random drunk conversation he had with his best friend will end up with them both pleasing Reader to tears

Experimenting in the bedroom was nothing unusual for Ethan and Y/N. The two had known each other for quite a while, overtaken by attraction but neither was ready for a relationship. Instead the pair opted for a slightly different compromise, one that had no name, no label, for now. While neither had the intention of an actual romantic partnership, it never stopped them from being loving and affectionate towards each other. Neither would ever have to leave before the morning comes.

Thus, as the light shone through his bedroom window, Ethan opened up his eyes, looking at the person laying by his side. Such a beauty, the shy rays of sun laying over the features Ethan so many times observed. It was common to do this in the morning, it would calm him down, especially on the very busy days.

“Anything particular you are thinking of while staring at me, Ethan?” There was no hesitation, no grogginess coming from Y/N’s voice, Ethan realised how he was not the only one awake previously.

“Well, I am, but I am not sure you could handle it,” he responded, smirking down at the laying figure, leaving a few kisses before finishing his reply, “plus, it is too early in the morning for such sinful thoughts.”

“Mhm, as if our endeavours last night were holy,” Y/N laughed, kissing Ethan back, as his lips crushed into hers.

“Well, you were certainly calling god if I recall correctly, cucciola, no?”

Maybe what made this situation not be awkward was exactly the fact that the two were friends. They thrived from the friendly banter, never missed an opportunity to mess with each other. It was just how they were and it worked perfectly to their benefit.

“I can tell it is troubling you, Edgar. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

"It's nothing amore let's just get ready. I'm quite hungry if you must know," he mumbled on her neck, trailing kisses all the way to her lips before abandoning the bed.

“Come on,” he called, ushering the girl to follow him.

Their feet were bare, no clothing no nothing -at least until Y/N pulled a few pieces of clothing for them both to wear- as they walked into the bathroom to start their day. They stood right next to each other as they washed their teeth, washed their faces, fixed their hair and so on and so forth.

“Isn’t that shirt too small for you, dolcezza,” commented Ethan, laughing at his own joke and poking Y/N’s side.

“Eh, well, I can take it off,” she suggested, pulling at the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. That only resulted in a laugh from the tall man, him shuffling her hair and walking out of the bathroom, putting distance between him and Y/N’s complaining about messing up her hair.

After that everything moved quite quickly. Y/N left the cosy home and went to her own house, leaving Ethan with his bandmates to work on their upcoming stuff. She knew how much it meant to him, but she also knew how stressful this career was to him. She always had something small to do to make his days even a little bit more relaxing, of course one of them being their nocturnal activities.

By the time night got around the drummer was sitting at the side of the pool, next to a small table, a beer in his hand as music played in the background. Everyone was doing their own thing: Victoria was swimming, Thomas was preoccupied with a cigarette and his phone and Damiano was sitting on the other side of the previously mentioned table having a conversation with Ethan. It started with speaking about small things before the subject turned more serious.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Damiano had, very early on, caught on his friend’s emotion, he was not very sure that Ethan was aware of his own feelings. It had become a little stupid in the frontman’s mind.

“I am not sure, Dami. She’s great, she is, and we are really close friends but… I don’t know…” Clueless as ever, thought the older man.

“Well, if anything at least you guys have a fucking amazing sex life, everyone can hear,” he laughed out, semi teasing his friend but kind of revaling a piece of information no one had had the heart to tell the tall man.

It caught him by surprise. He was never shy about his sex life, and truth be told he and Y/N never hid their predicament… He simply never thought they were being that loud; maybe that’s exactly the reason he had not understood the others could hear, the reason as to why they were so loud. “Mhm, didn't think you could,” he responded and took a drag of his cigarette.

Damiano copied his action, inhaling his own smoke and releasing it before he decided to say exactly what he was thinking. “Don’t worry about it. I personally don’t mind it, it’s kind of… entertaining.”

If Ethan was surprised before then now he was shocked and blushing. Of course, it was not in his nature to show it, and make this feeling obvious, but he surely had thoughts running through his head now. “So, what? You jack off to us having sex, though about a threesome? What is it?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” said Damiano, looking down at his beer. He was a bit ashamed but at the same time he could not keep his mouth shut, the alcohol overtaking his proper ability to keep some thoughts to himself. “I have to be honest, the noises she makes, they kill me, man.”

Everyone could see the gears in Ethan’s mind turn. On the one hand contemplating his friend’s confession and on the other thinking of all the ways he could punish Y/N for being as loud as she was.“So, if I asked you to join, you’d be in?”

Now it was the frontman’s turn to get shocked and blush, but he certainly could not lie. He would be more than into it, considering the many times he has thought of that, each and every one of them leading to him either taking a cold shower or taking care of himself hoping that it’d be Y/N instead. “Yes, I suppose I would…”

The conversation stayed at that, neither of the two men knowing exactly what to say or do at the time being. Instead they opted to wait it out, see when the proper time comes to bring it up again before deciding on what to do. And that day came soon, sooner than either anticipated.

Y/N had been especially bratty -just maybe two days after the conversation occurred- pushing Ethan to his limit with the teasing, the innuendos and the clothes she was wearing. It was the perfect occasion. A little punishment was in store and the tall man knew exactly how to execute it.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan’s voice was stern, not nearly close to a yell but authoritative nonetheless, the stoic expression on his face never failing to let Y/N know exactly what he was thinking of: she was going to be fucked, both literally and figuratively, but she was surely into that.

“Such a little slut,” he voiced, pulling the girl to his body, their faces almost touching and their breaths mixing together. A whine left her lips but Ethan was quick to shut it with his words, “you were not complaining when you acted like one, cucciola. In front of everybody as well. Did you see how Dami was looking at you? I’m sure you flashed him at least once all night.”

The girl shivered at what her friend was suggesting, a tingling feeling was taking over her pussy, legs already ready to fail her.

“Maybe he could help me punish you.” These words almost send Y/N in a frenzy. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, an obvious gasp escaping her lips, causing a deep laugh from Ethan.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” She simply nodded her head, mind racing to all the possible outcomes of tonight.

“I need your words, dolcezza. I need your explicit consent to this,” he whispered, holding Y/N’s face in his hands, leaving a kiss just next to her lips.

She softly responded with a yes, voice trembling and low, unable to come out properly. She had gotten probably a little too excited.

“Be a doll and just sit there, yeah. I’m going to go call Damiano. I’m sure he is dying to see how desperate you are to have both of us.” With that the man left the room, presumably going to call his friend over.

When Damiano walked into the room Y/N was violently taken out of her thoughts, the man’s energy overtaking the whole room, his temperament easing any possible worry the girl could have for this situation.

“I’m here dolcezza,” called Damiano, sitting next to her on the bed with the biggest shit eating grin he could possibly have.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami. She’ll be cocky within minutes, we don’t want that.” Always the stern dom he is, Ethan asserted himself over both people in the people. He did not need many words or strong actions to show them who is in charge, a look and his tone were enough to let that be known.

Damiano looked down, in a similar fashion from a few days prior, only this time he was not really shy, more like a puppy that just got yelled at.

“Why don’t you get undressed Damiano, our little puppet over here can not wait to see what you have to offer.” The man mentioned smirked, his confidence reappearing in a second before obliging to his friend’s request.

He decided to play it dirty, going slow, surely attempting to give the little puppet a show. His hands moved slowly, pulling his shirt up and over his head before traveling from his chest to his waist in a seductive way, stopping for just a moment, making sure Y/N’s eyes were right on his own before removing his belt and opening up his pants. In the meanwhile, Ethan had moved Y/N to be sitting on her knees on the floor, in front of the undressing man, eye level with his pants’ zipper.

“Help Damiano, amore. It seems he’s struggling with his pants and you are right where you need to.” She shivered at his words but followed the orders, slowly unbuttoning his pants, her face having moved a little too close -not that it was not welcome- pulling them down and simply gawking at the view in front of her.

She went to move, to please, but her dominating best friend seemed to have other plans.”Not yet, puppet. Come on. This is supposed to be a punishment for you, but we all know how much a cock shucking slut you are. You’ll get his dick but you have more work to do.”

Damiano opposed his friend, already feeling desperate to get whatever he could from the girl below him, dying to feel her lips around his cock, oh and her tongue, oh that tongue he had seen plenty of times devouring ice cream cones in the most pornographic way possible. Sometimes he wished she was in one.

“I think it’s a good start to a punishment, Ethan. She can suck my cocka and then just simply not get it fucking her, yet.” His plan had some practicality to it, knowing very well how much she’d be dying to have a dick buried deep inside her after getting a feel in her mouth.

“I’ll allow it,” said Ethan, starting the process of undressing himself, and looking around the room for anything that could bring more pleasure to everyone involved.

“Well, what are you waiting for, cucciola. Go on, show him how well you blow whistles.” With that the girl wasted no time, pulling Damiano’s boxers down, taking them off him with his help and getting to work. It started off simple, a few pumps at first to get him even harder than he already was (he’d really bet that any man could get hard in seconds seeing her on her knees in front of him, it was a divine view). Her hand was going slowly, her focus on the man’s face, looking up at him all innocently, making sure that his own eyes were on her.

“I am looking at you, dolcezza, don’t worry,” confirmed the man, as if reading her mind.

So, she continued, entirely encouraged to show her best self, to be a good girl for the two men in front of her. Moving on, her hand stayed pumping the man’s cock for a second before her tongue came onto the mix, licking all the way up the curve, a very thick vein getting special attention and then the head. It was already leaking pre-cum, the girl’s antiques driving Damiano insane by the second -and she had not even started blowing him yet. With a push to her head by the singer Y/N really took his cock into her mouth, starting with the head, sucking and bobbing her head a bit, still moving her skilled fingers up and down, with every bob taking more and more of the length reaching a point where she had taken it all. She paused in that place for a second, relaxing her throat, Damiano’s cock resting deep inside her mouth, before she moved in need of breath. The same pattern repeated itself a few more times before the pace got quicker, following the music that was now playing from Ethan’s speaker.

It did not take long for the older man to cum, unexpectedly, in Y/N’s mouth, some delicious sounds leaving her lips and sending vibrations all through his cock, intensifying his orgasm.

“I could have never thought she’s that good, Ethan. Why have you been hoarding her this whole time?” He laughed, all in one breath and blown completely out of his mind.

“Exactly because I know how good she is. But tonight she has been plenty bad, although she’s trying to act all innocent now.”

“I’m a good girl daddy, see?” She questioned, tongue out, showing evidence of her swallowing predicaments, “I took all of it.”

Ethan smiled, looking down to his friend, his big hand holding her jaw and spitting in her mouth as it stayed open. Swallowing that down as well Y/N showed it to the two men, waiting impatiently for the next orders.

No orders came for the time being, Ethan sitting himself on the bed, back resting on the bed frame, opening his legs and motioning for her to sit between them. She clearly obliged, knowing very well that her punishment was already going to be overwhelming but oh so pleasurable and she wanted nothing more.

In all honesty the drummer was played to her needs every time, the punishments being always the outcome she hoped for (except few occasions when she had gotten Ethan so much she ended up edged on for over a week as a punishment, and although the orgasm was spectacular, the wait was torture). Ethan knew it and he was not opposed to it, instead working with the girl’s deviousness.

As she sat between his thighs, back on his chest and palms resting right on his thighs, Ethan used his calves and feet to keep Y/N’s legs spread open, thankful she was wearing a dress and panties that he could easily replace any time he wanted. He prompted Damiano to move between both their legs, face aligned with her pussy, the frontman practically salivating at the sight in front of him.

She had anticipated this night, having bought a cheap but utterly sexy lingerie set online, wearing said lingerie in an attempt to drive Ethan crazy. It was black, with little orange flowers here and there, some lace with mesh material surrounding her pussy, back piece doing little to cover her ass cheeks. Damiano was currently dying at the, almost, disappearance of the fabric due to the wetness leaving absolutely nothing hidden -not that the material could hide much anyway. He moved up, face just a hair’s distance from the wetness, just about to leave a kiss but the other man had different plans.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami, you’ll get what you want in a bit,” he said, palms massaging the girl’s boobs, kisses being left on her neck. “I think she’s overdressed.”

Damiano agreed to the statement, sharing just one simple look with Ethan, reaping the panties apart, her pussy now fully exposed. The singer looked up to his friend once again, a nod of approval being more than enough to shoot the man into action.

His lips swiftly found her clit, not much effort for the skilled man, sucking and kissing the sensitive bud, tongue lapping the juices of her pussy taking advantage of the wetness to stimulate her clit. Y/N’s head fell back, on the drummer’s shoulder, the man taking advantage of the angle and leaving kisses and marks on her neck, one hand always on her chest, the other currently choking her. She moaned so beautifully in his ear, making him harder than he thought he could get, surprised at how well he held himself together.

Damiano kept eating the girl out, fingers starting to dive into her pussy one at a time. He got up to four, said pussy taking them in wonderfully, practically swallowing them within the velvety confines. “I’ve experienced nothing hotter in my life, dolcezza. This pussy is scrumptious, could eat it for days,” he, himself thrusting on the bed, already having gotten hard again, craving some friction. His mouth was leaving wet kisses to her thigh and his fingers were deep inside her, going in and out, Ethan adding his own fingers, playing with her clit edging her closer and closer to the edge.

All the telltales were there: the shaking, the loudness, the closed eyes… She was ready to cum, but it was not something Ethan could allow yet. He stopped his actions, placing a hand on his band mate’s head, said man getting the memo and pausing as well. “You really thought you’d come this easy, amore? Oh no! You have been acting like a desperate slut all day, flashing Damiano and now letting him taste you, knowing it drives me crazy. You have been very naughty,” he explained before shuffling her off his body, moving to stand up.

Y/N could not help but whine, the sound only enabling the two men. “I think she’s been naughty again. Didn’t you say you’d be a good girl, puppet?” She simply nodded head looking down, but not before seeing the look on Damiano’s face. “I think some spanking would put our puppet in place.”

Ethan nodded in agreement, already moving Y/N to bend over the bed, her legs wobbly from her previously denied orgasm. “Count for Damiano, dolcezza,” said the man, leaving a kiss on her back and then starting his actions.

“One.”

Although her words were what was asked of her Damiano was not satisfied, giving her one of his own and speaking up. “Say thank you, puppy, don’t be rude.”

Another spank, “three, thank you,” she followed the orders, jumping forward with every slap on her skin.

As she reached ten it got harder to count. Damiano had started fingering her again, opting to pause his actions after every few thrusts, slamming his palms on her ass cheeks or pussy. It’d be a lie if Y/N said this wasn’t enjoyable-after all she could not stop moaning loudly, but the redness of her ass would disagree.

“Why don’t you keep quiet, puppy? These noises of yours are what got you here. You can’t hide how much you like this, can you, slut?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was on the verge of cumming all over Damiano’s fingers, unable to speak yet again.

“Use,” spank, “your,” spank, “words,” spank.

“I can’t hide, daddy,” she responded, this time leaving an almost screaming moan, eyes rolling all the way to the back of her head, once again almost falling apart.

Before she had the chance Damiano stopped, hands retracting from the girl and into his mouth, tasting her on his lips.

“I think you can take at least one more, puppet. Can you?” Ethan, had been quite distanced this whole time, deciding to let his friend get a taste of his sex partner, but deciding this was the best moment to do his thing.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, letting out a simple “green,” to let Ethan know she was not stopping just yet.

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

“You are doing so well, dolcezza,” praised Damiano, thinking of what to do next.

“Why don’t you get up, puppet. I think it’s time you get what you want.”

At that, her head perked up, already jumping from Ethan’s lap (almost falling while doing so) eager to be fucked and to finally orgasm. “I want you on all fours. You suck me off, Dami can fuck your pussy. I’m sure you’d love that.” She nodded, moving to be in all fours as Ethan stood on his knees on top of the bed, Damiano following suit and placing himself behind Y/N.

“Agh,” he groaned, “sei così bagnata, bambina,” he commented, collecting all the wetness on his cock before pushing inside her.

The action and the moans it emitted caused vibrations to Ethan, making him groan in pleasure, Y/N’s talent to shuck not wavering now. “You like this a lot, puppet, don’t you? Being fucked by my best friend while sucking my cock, huh? You like that?”

She could only hum in response, holes being filled to the brim so pleasurably. It was all better than she expected, more overwhelming, so she could not keep it anymore. She released Ethan’s cock, screaming loudly as her release finally overtook her, Damiano groaning in contentment. He pulled out of her afterwards, jacking himself off a bit before coating her back in his own cum.

Now the only one left unsatisfied was Ethan. His pleasure was cut short for the girl’s release, and although he was not mad, he certainly wanted to feel her.

“Can you handle one more for me, cucciola? You did such a good job so far but I need to feel you.” Y/N nodded and changed her position, this time her legs were in the air, soon to be wrapped around the drummer, eyes half closed in bliss.

“Such a good girl for me,” Ethan praised one more time before he started his rhythm slamming into her. This time it did not take long for both of them to reach their highs, the man riding out both of them and after taking a second to breathe he pulled out, falling right next to her.

“Are you ok?” This time the concerned man was Damiano, a bottle of water already in his hands and ready to give it to the girl.

“Mhm… Thank you,” she mumbled, voice almost a whisper but the smile was hard to miss.

“I think I should leave,” said the front man and he went to get dressed, abandoning the room, leaving only Ethan and Y/N in it.

Ethan got up quickly, looking around for a cloth as he got to the bathroom and wet it with some warm water. Coming back, he used it to clean Y/N up; her back from Damiano’s cum, her face from the cum and her dried up juices and her pussy from the left over wetness, a pair of underwear and a t-shirt in his other hand.

“Come one, dolcezza, you did so good. You’ll go to sleep in just a second. Come one, help me get you dressed,” he voiced and started leaving kisses on her face.

“You took both of us wonderfully, thank you.” Another hum as a response.

Ethan realized how at this point she had fallen asleep, fucked out and exhausted, he did not expect her to stay awake.

“I only wish I could tell you this when you’re awake… I think I’m in love with you."

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

[galacticgraffiti]

Okay, but what if Boba's daughter walked into the palace with pre-sequels, spice-runner Poe? And she's just like "BTW, I love him." Only for Boba to activate Overprotective Dad Mode™️ and just:

Because she thinks it's fine. She's been raised in the criminal underworld by freaking Boba. But he's just blown away that she even considers someone even remotely like him an option. Let alone a viable one.

LMAOOOOO oh my god that concept is hilarious. also, excellent gif use. ngl the concept of Boba being reader's actual father freaks me out a little but alas. Here we go.

No Warnings just tags: actual dad Boba, daughter!reader, Poe being a little shite but actually so loveable, family disputes

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"You are not to see him again. There will be no discussion." Your father's voice is deadly quiet and you shrink in your seat.

"Hey hey hey now." Poe raises his hands and you bury your face in your arms. That di'kut is going to get himself killed.

"All due respect, Sir, but I don't think that is your decision to make. I love your daughter and she loves me." His voice goes all soft and you lift your face to see him look at you with the most tender eyes. "You cannot part us."

You nearly climb over the table to hug him then, Poe, your Poe-

"He is a spice runner, for Kriff's sake. Chakaaryc ge'hutuun. How did you ever think I would allow this?" Boba exclaims, the usual calm in his voice replaced by disbelief.

You rise to your feet, anger heating your face.

"Oh no, father, you do not get to call him a dirty criminal. You fucking hypocrite! You run the biggest syndicate in all the galaxy and then you forbid me from loving a good man, a man who is true to me, just because he runs spice? Which is, I should add, on many planets a legal substance, unlike the shit you sometimes sell. Gar or'dinii, buir."

Boba looks at you like you have slapped him.

"You call me a fool, ad'ika? I am trying to keep you safe, just like I always have, just like I always will. This man is not an option for you, you can do better- you must do better. Don't make the same mistakes I did. Rise above your station before you fall in with the wrong crowd, daughter. I will not allow this."

Poe rises from his seat as well, the chair dragging obnoxiously. He reaches for your hand and you take his.

"Employ me, then," he says calmly and your breath hitches. The nerve- your father would never agree- but Poe goes on. "Employ me, give me a chance to be an honest man. I want nothing to do with your criminal empire, give me work as a pilot or a mechanic. Let me fly in your races, I don't care. Let me prove to you how much I love your daughter. Just- don't take her away from me."

Your heart stumbles when Poe grits out the words you have taught him in the mothertongue.

"Ni kar'tayli kaysh gar darasuum. Gedet'ye, alor."

You see Boba's eyes widen, the surprise in his gaze. Never teach anyone the mothertongue who is an aruetii unless they aspire to become part of the family. That is the rule.

Time passes like syrup and you are frozen, Poe's hand desperately squeezing yours, hanging on to that last glimmer of hope. When your father opens his mouth again, you feel like you might faint at any given moment.

"Fine," Boba says and the world starts spinning. "Fine. One chance. If you mess up at all, at any point, mir'sheb... There is no place in all the galaxy you will be able to hide from me."

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Mando'a: di'kut - Idiot Chakaaryc ge'hutuun - rotten criminal Gar or'dinii, buir - You are a fool, father. ad'ika - little one (here used for 'daughter') Ni kar'tayli kaysh gar darasuum. Gedet'ye, alor. - I love her. Please, Sir. mir'sheb - smartass

------------ I am loving all these concepts so much!! Absolutely living for writing Overprotective Dad Boba.