#and idk if there is smut in any of these

[kacchanot-fucking-deal-with-this]

So you know when you're writing a scene where the hero is carrying an injured person and you realize you've never been in this situation and have no idea how accurate the method of transportation actually is?

Oh boy, do I have a valuable resource for you!

Here is a PDF of the best ways to carry people depending on the situation and how conscious the injured person needs to be for the carrying position.

Literally a life saver.

(No pun intended.)

[woahjo]

APHRODISIAC! (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist 

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Katsuki gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk. You decide to check in on him. What could go wrong?

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, dubcon, smut, porn with little to no plot, aphrodisiac quirks, quirkless reader, prohero!katsuki, rough sex, borderline free use, biting, creampie, multiple orgasms (fem!receiving), masturbation, edging (kinda), manhandling, katsuki is dominant but also not idk he's desperate, possessiveness, overstimulation, size kink, scent kink, some light aftercare! woo hoo!, friends to lovers sort of

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: yeah ik this isn't what i typically write but idk where this came from. i had a thought and it spiraled bad and now i have this. there is no deeper message. there is no meaning. i wrote this to make him FUCK and be kinda weird and desperate and pathetic about it. i needed to see him physically overpower us while also so desperate that it makes him look stupid. i feel violent. this bad boy is not going on ao3 lol. anyway, enjoy, heed the warnings.

Katsuki paces around the one bedroom apartment he rents in downtown Musutafu. His skin is tingling. Every nerve he has burns like it's been set on fire, needing some sort of touch to soothe it. His cock aches between his legs, hard and leaking against the side of his thigh. Katsuki grits his teeth, running his hands over his hair and then letting his palms slide down the sides of his exposed biceps. 

Sweat collects on his skin, the kind that comes from desperation or maybe a fever, and he feels it on his palms when he lets them drop to his sides and clenches his fists. Fuck, he can't believe he got hit with a non-fatal quirk and had to be sent home. It's humiliating. What's worse is that it hasn't worn off yet, rendering him completely useless. 

He sits on his couch, his legs spread wide, and leans back against the couch cushions, wincing as he reaches to unbutton his pants. He's never been this sensitive in his life and it almost hurts to grab his cock and pull it from his pants. Katsuki watches it twitch for a moment, rigid between his legs and leaking pre-cum from its angry tip. He doesn't even have to think about anything in particular, he's just turned on. Unbearably so. 

Katsuki wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks upward once, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth at his own sensitivity. Then, the desperation sets in fully and he squeezes the head of his cock with a wince and a low groan before beginning to slide his hand up and down. He pauses to spit into his palm, desperate for some sort of relief from the tension weaving its way through his body, his hand moving faster and fast over this dick. Katsuki only pauses when he touches his overly sensitive head, swallowing down an audible moan as he moves his hips to desperately fuck his fist. 

He tries not to think of the humiliation in this, instead focusing on chasing a high that seems to get farther and farther. He stays like this for a while, desperately fucking his fist with low groans and whines. His face is completely flushed, sweat beading on his brow and forehead, covering every inch of his skin with a pathetic, glowing sheen. God, he's almost fucking angry. The frustration, the sheer desperation for release, is making it difficult to control his temper and he knots his free hand into the soft pillow beside him, raising it to his face and using it to cover his head so he can be a little louder. 

He's desperately humping his fist when his doorbell rings. At first, it's only once and Katsuki thinks he can ignore it, but then it comes again, five more times and consistently more aggressive. 

"Katsuki?" your voice calls through the wood paneling of his door. "I heard you got hit with a quirk and sent home. Let me in." 

He furrows his eyebrows at the irony of the last person in the world he wants to encounter at a time like this. Pretty, quirkless, you. His long time friend and recent dispatcher at his agency. Someone he secretly wants to fuck even without the aphrodisiac quirk floating through his bloodstream. You really get under his skin. You’re exactly his type, right down to that annoying little attitude of yours that drives Katsuki insane. Of course, he's always respected your friendship a little too much to do anything about it, but tonight, he doesn't think he'll be able to and he sits in silence with his lip caught between his teeth while he fucks his fists and hopes you'll go away. 

"I know you're in there," you call again. "I can see the light on." 

You bang three times on the door and then ring the doorbell again, pushy and insistent the way you always are. A match for his stubborn attitude. 

Katsuki swears and stands up, his hands shaking as he tucks his sensitive cock back into his sweatpants and flips the head up into his waistband with a hiss. 

The crazy thing is, he can literally smell you through the door. The scent of you, that sweet and rounded perfume you wear, wafts under the crack of his apartment door. He pauses outside of it, resisting the temptation to open it, to welcome that smell into his apartment and use you to relieve the aching in his cock and lower belly. 

"Katsuki?" You ask, a little quieter now. 

Jesus fucking christ, don't call his name like that. 

He swings the door open, letting his hand rest on the side of it so that it is positioned above his head. You look taken aback at his appearance, covered in sweat and flushed from the neck up, his chest exposed and heaving. 

"What?" he says, looking you up and down. 

Katsuki bites back the urge to yank you in. Why is it he can literally smell the sweat on your body and every prick of your emotions? It's like he can tell exactly what you're thinking, or maybe it's what he wants you to be thinking. 

"Don't get on my ass about me still technically needing to be at work," you start, stepping forward. "I heard something happened and I just came to check and you look like shi-" 

Katsuki blocks you from coming in with his body. You stumble backwards lightly and raise your eyebrow at him. There's a pause as you register that you've just run into a solid wall of muscle, sweat covered and glistening, while Katsuki eyes you like you're meat on a platter. He knows he's doing it, but he can literally smell every turn of your scent, soft and sweet. And he may be fooling himself... but are you... turned on? 

"Let me in?" you say with a small laugh, side stepping to go around him. He blocks you again, his fingers gripping the door frame so hard that his knuckles are white. 

"Go home," he says quietly, his voice tense. 

"What? No," you furrow your eyebrows at him. "What's the matter with you?" 

You duck under his arm and place your hand momentarily on his chest. Your touch makes him tingle all over and he sucks in a sharp breath. 

"I'm not fucking around," he says. 

"Okay, me neither," you respond with a bit of an attitude. "I expected you to be worse for wear but you look like crap. Like you're... I don't know." 

You trail off a little. 

"Let me help," you say, shaking off whatever thought had come over you. "I'll make you some food." 

"Look, no offense, but I don't think you want to help me with this," he says, a frustrated bite in his voice. Food isn't exactly what he's hungry for. 

"That's too bad," you say slowly, seemingly put off by the desperate air about him and settling into his kitchen. You move to open the fridge.

Katsuki walks up to you quickly, taking your wrist from the door and holding it between the two of you. Cool air hits his exposed chest and arm as the door falls shut again. 

"I'm dead serious. Get the fuck out of here or I'm gonna do something I regret," he hisses through a clenched jaw. Your skin is warm on the pads of his fingers, wrist held flush against his palm. He bites back a genuine shudder. 

Your eyes are wide as you look back at him, glancing between where he's caught your wrist by your head and his eyes. Katsuki's gaze roams over your face, pausing as he hits the top of your blouse where a few buttons remain open. When he returns his eyes to yours, your mouth moves to open before a heady understanding settles over your features. You're so pretty. Everything about you is pretty, so delightful and delicate. Your eyes look glassy and wide. Katsuki has always found them tempting, but today he can't stop himself. 

He leans forward and kisses you, holding your wrist to his chest as his mouth comes messily into contact with yours. You squeak and freeze and it takes all he has to pull away from you. 

"Go home," he says again, his lips tingling. Katsuki feels the color creep onto his cheeks, his hand still holding your wrist. 

You don't say anything, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He swallows thick and feels the saliva drag against his throat. Then, his mouth dries completely, his expression twisting into discomfort as his cock throbs between his legs as the scent of you takes on a sharper turn. He's never felt anything like this before, something animal. 

Katsuki tightens his jaw, staring at you for a moment. Then, he takes a step towards you. You take one back, though he doesn't feel like you're afraid. Rather, you tilt your head down to look at him through your lashes. He lets out a breath through his teeth and walks you back until your ass hits the counter, his free hand coming to gingerly touch your waist. You inhale when he leans in to kiss you again, screwing your eyes shut and reaching to grab at his shoulder to pull him closer. 

Every touch tingles. It burns and he drops your wrist to manhandle your hips. You suck on his bottom lip, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. He ruts his hips against yours, desperate for any sort of friction to relieve the ache, and you gasp a little and let your mouth fall open. Katsuki takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your lip with a low groan, slipping his tongue into your mouth as the pads of his fingers press harshly into you. You whine, eyebrows pulling up. 

Katsuki’s eyes are slightly open, just so that he can look at you. Every aspect of his senses feel heightened and the relief of your mouth far surpasses that of his hand over his throbbing cock only minutes earlier. 

He pants, taking your hips and lifting you onto the counter so that you’re seated, pulling away for just a moment to lift the hem of your shirt and expose your breasts. Katsuki puts his face on the pillowy tops of them, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as his hand teases its way up the skin of your back to unclasp it. He thinks you’re probably looking at him, but if you are, he doesn’t have the mind to care about what sort of behavior he’s exhibiting. He can practically smell how wet you are from just a little touching and if he weren’t so fucking desperate for a little relief, he’d tease you for a few hours just to watch your pussy drool over him. 

The cool air of his apartment hits your exposed nipples. Katsuki takes it upon himself, without even a second thought, to roll the hard bud under his tongue. He feels the way goosebumps rise on your skin, his hands coming to rest over the tops of your thighs. Katsuki bites lightly on your breast and you fucking whine at it, tipping your head back and rooting your hand into the tufts of his blonde hair. 

His cock jumps in his pants and he’s no doubt leaked enough to leave an evident wet spot against the gray of his sweatpants. He stands to his full height, pushing your skirt up and pressing the outline of his cock to your crotch. Heat bleeds through your panties, the kind that makes him feel like he’s going absolutely fucking insane. You gasp, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him close again. 

Katsuki’s mouth hits yours messily, breathing hard as he ruts his hips up against your crotch, pulling you forward on the counter so he can feel as much of the pillowy folds of your pussy through the thick fabric as possible. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth, sharp canines digging into the wet flesh of your mouth. He whines— high-pitched, desperate sound—as you position your hips to press your crotch against the head of his cock. His head falls onto your chest, forehead resting against the hollow of your throat. Katsuki humps at you, pulling you against him to match the rhythm of his hips, grinding your clothed cunt over the bulge of his cock. It’s a desperate motion, completely subconscious as he lets the quirk he’s been hit with take the lead.

His fingers dip into the crease of your thigh, fumbling as they reach for the waistband of the panties you’re wearing. Katsuki’s desperation is so palpable that he finds himself panting as he slips his fingers into the sides of your underwear, yanking them down. You gasp at the force of it and he swears he hears a small tear as he pulls them from your cunt, the crotch sticking to the lips of your pussy. 

He leans his hips forward again, sliding his cock between your folds with a deep grunt. His mouth finds your neck and he bites along the side of it, lathing his tongue over your pulse point. It’s like he can taste you. Salt and that stupid perfume, collecting on his tongue as you dig your fingers into his back, his dick rutting restlessly against your clit. At one point, he almost slips in, his eagerness and your wetness making him careless. Katsuki sucks in a breath through his teeth, his whole body on fire. 

The kitchen light shines down on his back and he can see the outline of part of his shadow on your thighs as he stares down at them, guiding the tip of himself to your entrance. He hears you wine when he presses against it and moves his hand down subconsciously to rub at your clit. An attempt to ease the stretch. 

You tip your head back in a moan and Katsuki takes the opportunity to kiss your neck before settling his teeth against your shoulder and biting down harshly on the muscle connecting your neck and arm. You yelp at the sensation and Katsuki shutters at the sound, willing out a choked I’m sorry as he slides into your wetness. His hands push into the delightfully soft flesh of your upper thighs, the fat spilling up around each individual digit as he uses your legs for leverage, sliding you forward even further to better seat you on him. 

Your legs are shaking and he can feel the way your nails dig into his exposed shoulder blades. Your bunch up skirt causes the fat of your tummy to fold over in a way that practically makes Katsuki drool. He urges himself to pause, attempting to come back to his senses as the quirk kicks into high gear. There’s relief in being inside of you, in feeling the flutter of your walls around his thick cock, but it also makes him desperate. Katsuki feels like he’s chasing something that he was desperately and it’s just out of his reach. 

You’re breathing heavily above him, he can see the rise and fall of your chest from where his head hangs down, his hands trembling on the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes, his vision foggy around the edges as if he were peering through a tube. You’re at the end of it, your eyes glassy and mouth open, returning the look. Your eyebrows are knitted up in pleasure, but you almost seem confused. 

“What are you waiting for?” You breathe out, the first thing you’ve said since he started touching you. 

The tone of your voice is needy, with a delightful whiny lilt that makes him groan out loud. He can barely manage the words that come out next, his brain half mush, and he feels the way his cock jumps inside of you. 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth, his breath coming heavy. 

There’s a pause and he feels the distinct sensation of you squeezing down around his cock, like the idea turns you on. 

“Use me,” you respond cautiously, your voice still containing that needy lilt. 

Katsuki’s hips fuck up into you voluntarily and he feels the way his breath catches in his throat at the near desperate sound of your voice.

“Say that again.” 

“Use me, Katsuki,” you respond, choking on your words as he fucks his hips up into you. 

You reach for his face, taking it in your hands and drawing it close until it’s just in front of yours. Then, your palms slide down his shoulders and he screws his eyes shut and fucks into you again, harder this time, causing your body to jolt upwards on the counter. 

He curses under his breath, pushing one leg further to the side and fucking his hips up into you roughly. You’re looking right at him, your expression drawn and pleasure-soaked, sweat collecting on your forehead as your mouth drops open into an o-shape. You punctuate his thrusts with high pitched yelps, squeaking out your pleasure and the deepness of where he’s hitting through choked moans. 

Katsuki’s hands move up your stomach to roughly cup your breasts, his mouth so close to yours that he’s practically breathing in the sounds you make in exchange for his own hurried groans. He kneads at the fat of your chest, rolling your breast under his fingers before taking your nipples and pulling lightly on them. 

He’s aware of just how rough he’s being, just how hard his hips are slapping yours, but he feels like he can’t stop. Katsuki chases a high so fucking desperate that his body is on autopilot, reaching and touching and moaning unabashedly as the room fills with the wet sound of his balls on the backs of your thick thighs. 

You push your chest forward towards him, legs spread wide to make room for the width of his hips between yours as he bullies that perfect sensitive spot inside of you. Katsuki feels the way he makes you flutter. Every shift of your body, every involuntary squeeze of your cunt as he drags his cock along your walls, registers as if he were a part of you. His skin tingles everywhere you touch and the drag of your nails over his shoulder blades makes him want to crawl into the deepest part of you. Even the sound of your voice, drawn and desperate and mildly overwhelmed, feels like a drug to him. Every sense he has seems to be acutely attuned to just how badly he needs to fuck your lights out. 

His hands slink down to your hips, resituating you and pulling you flush against him. Then, he drags his cock all the way out of you and quickly ruts back in, moaning as he does. His pace picks up, manhandling you forward on the counter until he is supporting most of your weight. You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as you let him use you like a toy. 

Katsuki chases his high, his stomach seeming to wind tighter and tighter but never finding that perfect snap and release. His movements grow faster, using all of his strength to fuck his hips up into you, barreling his cock against your gummy walls and bullying your sweet spot. He feels the way you tighten down around him, your body tensing and fingers digging crescent moons into the tops of his shoulders. 

“Ka-” you choke out desperately, your voice breaking. “Wait, Katsuki, wait! I’m gonna-” 

You shudder, your thighs squeezing around him as he continues to fuck you. 

“Do it,” he seethes, “just fuckin’ do it.” 

The end of his sentence comes out as more of a whimper as you cry out and squeeze down around him, squirming in his grasp as you begin to twitch with every additional thrust. Your body shakes, legs locking around him and struggling to hold him inside as he fucks you clear through your orgasm and then to the other side. 

Katsuki’s voice breaks, almost whimpering like an animal as he buries himself in your pussy over and over again. He wants to smother you, he wants to completely cover your body and get as close as he possibly can. He’s already so much bigger than you, so much broader, how hard could it be to swallow you completely? 

Katsuki’s hands come up under your ass as he wordlessly lifts you from the counter and moves to the couch on desperate, shaky steps. He lays you down, slipping out of you for a moment, before pressing a hand to the inside of your thigh, spreading your legs, and sinking his cock back into you as he crowds his body over yours. 

“You know what?” He says, not really sure what’s going to come next. His head is so clouded with the quirk that he can’t think straight. “I’ve wanted to do this forever. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so- long-” 

He screws his eyes shut, almost angry with the way he can’t seem to hit that high, teetering on a desperate and near painful edge. 

“Those fuckin’ pencil skirts,” he says, unable to control his words or sharp tone. “The way you wear your hair, that damn look in your eye that constantly makes you seem like you’re beggin’ for it.” 

Katsuki whines, a sharp sound from the back of his throat, as you tighten up around him. He meets your gaze, clouded and watery eyes accented by the delightful furrow in the center of your brow. 

“And then you show up here,” he groans, not even sure of what he’s really saying. “Blouse unbuttoned, looking for trouble. I’m gonna fuck your lights out. ‘Till you can’t even think about fuckin’ anyone else.” 

He leans in close, his mouth right up against yours. 

“This is g’nna make you mine, right?” 

You nod, your movements clumsy, and pull him close to you. 

Katsuki loses all of his sense, burying himself in the feel of your pussy and the way he sinks into you, giving into the desperation of the quirk. He can feel just how deep he’s hitting, the way you suck in sharp, whiny breaths with every inward thrust. Katsuki’s hands grip your waist, pulling your ass up off the couch so that his angle is better. 

His cock seems to drag endlessly against your overstimulated, pillowy, insides and you practically drool around. He feels like a dog slobbering over meat, any semblance of politeness completely gone from both his expression and his movements. This is going to fucking ruin your friendship, but he doesn’t even have half of a mind to think about it, so drawn into the delightful feel of your body and the aching in his cock that only seems to subside slightly with every thrust. 

You try to choke out the word “again” and he feels like he knows what’s coming. Your whole body tenses, legs locking around him as you cream over his cock for the second time. 

This seems to get Katsuki somewhere, the sensation of your pussy clamping down finally giving him some leeway to relief. He hits the edge of an orgasm, leading himself to the finish line. 

The tension in his belly grows, cock twitching inside of your fucked out cunt. His fingers dig into your hips and he collapses forward, rolling his body so that the head of his cock catches perfectly inside of you, massaging and churning you up. You’re moaning, though maybe it’s more adjacent to whining, and Katsuki can hear himself mimicking the sounds, his body leading the way. 

Then finally, on a pathetic and broken whimper, Katsuki cums. His whole body tenses, weight pressing down on you as he buries his face into your neck and lets his voice out beside the hollow of your throat. The relief and pleasure is so intense that Katsuki feels the way every muscle in his body tenses and lets go, filling you up with as much of him as he has to give. 

His hips continue to pathetically rut into you, little choked moans escaping his lips as he uses his own cum as lube for his weak little thrusts. Then, he completely relaxes. 

Katsuki feels the way his skin stops burning, the way the desperation at the back of his throat subsides, how his body rids itself of the quirk as quickly as the arousal came on. He shudders, coming back to himself and raising his head to peer at your expression. 

You look exhausted, hair a mess and face covered in a thick sheen of sweat. You still flutter around his cock, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try and ride through the overstimulation of just having him inside of you. Katsuki furrows his brows, exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He raises his hand and uses it to push stray strands of hair from your face with his palm on your forehead. Then, with a clear mind, he leans forward and kisses you. 

You blink at him for a second, before giving a weak smile, raising your eyebrows and letting your head fall to the side. Katsuki winces when he pulls out of you, sucking in a sharp breath and standing to his full height. He places a hand on his forehead like he’s assessing the situation, staring at your body, still fully clothed with your skirt pushed all the way up your stomach and your blouse missing a button at the top. 

He wordlessly walks to the bathroom and wets a washcloth with warm water, walking back over to you and wiping down the exposed parts of your body. You don’t really say anything to him, but you smile quietly while he gingerly wipes you down, your smeared makeup accenting just how much of a mess he’s made. 

“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how-” 

“How you wanted this to go?” You say softly, the corners of your lips turning up. 

Katsuki feels the way he flushes, all the way to the tops of his chest. 

“No, it’s not,” he admits, running a hand over his face as he crouches beside you. 

You laugh a little and he furrows his brows at you, frustrated and embarrassed. 

“You’ve got a bit of a possessive streak, huh?” You tease lightly.

“I got hit with some asshole’s fuckin’ quirk and-” he begins explaining himself, something he probably should have done when you showed up at the door. 

“It was good though,” you say, tilting your head at him from where you lay.

Katsuki blinks at you, his expression completely flat. You should really know just how fucking crazy you drive him. Then, he scowls a little, not because he’s upset, but because he’s currently feeling the opposite and that makes him awkward. 

“You’re into that shit?” He says, a bit incredulously. 

You shrug and give him a coy smile. 

[chapollynh]

I finished DS9 and here's my first offering to the fandom.

The show is just SO GOOD!! I wanna talk about it so bad, so I will spam the tags quite a bit... My bad. Also, the people who said Bashir would get better - you were right, he became a lot more fun! Plus he's got a teddy bear, that's peak character right there.

[simplyhale]

late night call t.b. (18+)

tim bradford x fem! reader

summary; after a long shift tim needs to show you just how much he missed you. the only way he knows how

notes; is this my first smut fic? yes. do i love but also hate this? also yes. but after finishing the book lights out by navessa allen and re-reading my favorite @sleepymissy fics (it's the start of my period lol) i had to write this out and get this out of my head. if yall like it please validate me or else i'll probably never write smut again. gatta love being your worst critic.

includes; dirty talk (it's smut lol), pet names, praise praise praise (the best kink), unprotected sex (obvi wrap it before tapping), swearing, mentions of owning a k-9, switch!reader, softdom!tim, you answering tim with smart ass remarks

words; 3151

— ｡⋆ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The clusters of red and blue flashing lights was the extra thing you needed to fully wake you up. Your hand moved from the center console, placing your car in park, up to the radio turning it down. Looking back to the small grate window that separated the front of the car with the back. Being met with a very excited panting German Shepherd. 

“I know Ash, it's go time.”

Turning your attention to the blinking digital clock reading sometime after three in the morning. Your shift had ended at eight and you had been asleep since ten. But of course, being an officer with a K-9 meant middle of the night calls were not completely unusual. 

Being met with Tim and Lucy at the truck. He was leaning against your car while Lucy was clearly trying to fight off the tiredness. “Boot tell me what the call is for K-9’s?”

“A Tim Test at three in the morning wouldn’t expect anything less.” You remark taking the bullet proof vest from Lucy. Quickly pulling it over your head leaning up to him. “She’s not your boot anymore, remember?” His eyes flickered down at your shirt collar, watching as his jaw tensed slightly. “But if she wants to answer I won’t stop her.” You stepped back, tightening the straps before velcroing them into place. 

Lucy smiled at you, always amazed with the way you were able to get right under his skin. “You stay out of the dog and their handlers' way. While making sure to cover them.”

Your tired eyes looked over at her, smiling, “Atta girl, wanna pet Ash before he gets to work?”

Her tired face brightened as she nodded. “Get the scent ready will ya,” you told Tim who handed you Ash’s leash. Having gotten it out of the truck for you while you put your vest on. He watched Lucy walk over to the cracked window baby talking to Ash through the tinted window. Looking down at you, “Sorry for having to call you in so late.”

You shrugged looking him up and down, “You’ll make it up in your own Tim way.” You reached up and plucked a white thread from his collar. Letting your fingers linger for a moment before turning and walking over to the side of the car. The way his hungry eyes never leaving your mind.

— ｡⋆ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Your arms wrapped around one of your pillows as the low screams of the horror movie filled the room. Ash laid at the foot of the bed watching the screen, waiting for the time to reach his breakfast. Your eyes hazed with tiredness. Currently stuck in the weird state between being too tired to sleep and too tired to stay awake.

Watching as Ash raised his head, his ears on alert. Writing it off as the current kill scene on the screen, the type of screen where you’d say the character had it coming because they didn’t run out the front door. No, instead he was looking past the tv screen. Towards the front door.

“Morning runners Ash,”

He got up and started towards the door. He wasn’t on defense anymore; the first wag of his tail gave that away. You groaned knowing he was going to either start to whine or start to bark. Both signs that he was wanting to go outside and meet every person that morning he could. But then there was a click. The sound of your front door unlocking causes you to prop yourself up onto your elbows. Three people had a key to your apartment. Your parents were a couple states away, neither one would be too keen on surprise visits. Then there was your downstairs neighbor who trained aggressive dogs and helped you out if Ash is ever left on his own for longer than you were planning for. Leaving only one person left.

“I knew giving you a key would only bring issues,” Your tone laced with heavy sarcasm.

Brows knitted up once again when there was no answer. Picking your head up and watching as he carried one of Ash’s dog toys with him to the kitchen. The toy was one someone could put treats and peanut butter into to keep a dog's attention. And that’s exactly what Tim did. Ash sat patiently, watching his every move. He reached down and gave the large dog a scratch behind the ear, “Me and your mother need to be alone for a bit, bud.” He spoke in the kind higher pitch tone that people did when speaking to something cute. He then tossed the toy to the farthest corner of the apartment, watching Ash take off after it with a smile. 

Watching his figure grew closer and closer. Shutting the door behind him caused you to smile knowing exactly what was going to happen next. 

“You know if you were dying to take a nap with me you could’ve just–” The yelp cut off your sarcastic tone. Caught completely off guard when Tim grabs your ankle pulling you down towards him. Then swiftly flipping you onto your back. Looking up at him to see that grin that made you want to grab his face and kiss him stupid after you punched the expression from his face. 

“Tough day?”

He shook his head, “Long day,” His hands cupped either side of your face after bending down. His lips were quick to devour you. Feeling the heat grow as your faces stayed close together caused you wanting more, so you wrapped your arms around his neck. Trying to pull him as close to you as possible. Moving in with each kiss. Wanting nothing more but to be wrapped around every inch of his body.

But with the angle that the two of you were at caused your two forces to push against the other.

As if he could read your mind he pulled back. Your heartbeat was thumping all the way up to your ears. Face flushed and lips swollen and slightly throbbing. His lust full eyes looking you up and down as he spoke, “And then you show up in my shirt–”

“In my defense I was half asleep when I grabbed it.”

“--without any thought.”  

He reached back behind his head, watching as his biceps flexed from the tight sleeves. Grabbing the back of his collar and pulling it up and over his head, tossing it to the side as his pants followed next. 

Propping yourself up onto your elbows as you watched with hungry lustful eyes. Your eyes shamelessly looking at every inch of his body. Your core throbbing in anticipation knowing what was behind those black boxers. Wanting what was behind those boxers.

You didn’t have to say anything before he was already climbing on top of you. Engulfing your lips into his own. Using one of his hands to keep himself from crushing you while the other roamed up and down your hip. The calluses on his palms caused goosebumps to appear along your waist. Wrapping your arms and legs around him. Groaning at the ability to pull him further into you.

Your fingers roaming through his hair. Pulling at the base of his neck. Gasping when you felt the shape of him in between your thighs. This always allowed him to claim you with his tongue. Even though his lips were always soft, sending shivers down when he would whisper in your ear. But the need and heavy pressure only caused your arousal to grow with every second under him.

As if that wasn’t enough, he rolls his hips. Rolls his fucking hips. His now rock-hard clothed dick was now rolling into your covered core. Swallowing your moans and using it to deepen the kiss. Trailing your nails down from his neck and to his back. Digging them in deeper every time he would roll into you. Clearly needing more by the frequency of the movements. The marks, that differently would be there for a few days, only allowed him to roll deeper.

But not deep enough.

Growing frustrated with his teasing you crossed your ankles, moving your arms back around his neck. The sound of heavy breathing and the occasional moan was covered up with the sound of guttural screams from the tv. Thankful for your bedroom walls being thick. Because the deep loud groan that came from his lips as you flipped the two of you around would give away what was currently happening to any of your neighbors. 

Looking down to see the blue of his eyes were now covered by his blown-out pupils. His hands roaming your things as you sat. Currently straddling him. 

Tilting your head as your fingers trailed from around his neck down. In a fluid motion your fingers traced every bump and grove of his chest. Moving from his collarbones to his perfectly shoulders. “I can only imagine how difficult of a shift you’ve had.” His brows frowned slightly but his face barely fell from the lust indulging him. “I mean the way you looked at me when I got there. You were just itching to touch me.” You teased your voice calm and slow hearing his small intakes of breath as you moved your fingers. Each of his muscles flexed as your nails dragged their way back over the curve of his shoulders. Resting on either one of his pecks. 

Reaching down and going for his lips before moving your head to the side of his neck at the last second. Causing him to let out a groan that deepened when you started to suck and bite at the skin. “Aren’t you a tease sweetheart?” His hands roamed from your hips to the curve of ass. Tucking two of his fingers under the waistband of your underwear pulling on them. Trying to get your attention in the only way he knew. Knowing anytime his fingers were near you pussy it would only send even more arousal through every vein and nerve in your system. 

Finally satisfied with what you deemed a masterpiece on his neck you replied, “Wonder who I got it from?” 

You matched his own sly grin looking directly into each other’s blown out eyes. 

It was like a silent bet had been silently agreed on between you two. Seeing who could take off the others underwear first. Which you obviously won, greedily dragging your thumb over the tip of his dick. Feeling his fingers gliding the black fabric down your body. But getting caught because you were still straddling him. The feeling of your touch and the need for being fully in you he quickly ripped either side of the fabric before tossing it to the side. The now ripped fabric joining his clothes on the floor. 

Your eyes widened, and you let out a gasp. Well, more of a moan. Because even though you should be mad that he ripped a perfectly good pair of panties off of you the act had only succeeded to turn you on even more.

“You are so buying me more.” You let out a small laugh watching as his eyes squeezed shut before opening once more, his teeth greeting. You had fully wrapped around him. Twisting your hand around his shift while using your thumb to collect any and every drop of the pre cum that leaked out from his tip. “I’ll buy you whatever you want sweetheart; I just need more of you.”

Your smug smirk only grew, the thought that if anyone could see them now, they would never let him live this down. You have such a hold on him to the point that Tim Bradford is begging you. Only putting up with all of your teasing because you cause him such intense pleasure. Needing you and only you. Knowing that no matter how much you two go back and forth at work moments like these is what truly mattered. The hunger, the wanted, the need for the other person and only the person is what kept you two stuck together. No matter how much you annoy each other.

“That sounds like prostitution to me, Tim.” 

You watched as the moment he opened the jaw to say something smart-ass back you pressed the red blunt head against your wet entrance. Slowly setting yourself on top of him. The remarked he had planned to say was replaced with low stretched out fuck. 

Matching his own curse feeling him stretch and fill you. Barely feeling the way his fingers tug into your sides, clearly fighting all the urges to cum right then and there. And for a moment it helped ground him. That was until you started to move. The focused and steady gaze was immediately changed to a darker one filled by need and lust. 

You could feel your heartbeat in your eardrums as you moved up and down his shaft. Soft whimpers mixed with breaths leaving your mouth as you did. Earning groans from the man under you as you slowly moved up and down. 

Craving more friction, more fullness, more of him, you started to roll your hips into him. It only happened two times for Tim to be able to match it. Pulling you forwards before helping you roll back, but not before thrusting upwards.

His eyes never leave you. Looking up at you with such love and lust that made you lightheaded.

The thrust upwards hits directly in the spot you need. Always baffling you how fast he could find your g-spot. Guessing it just meant he knew your body that well. The new motion is exactly what you both need to get you worked up and close. Stretching and filling every inch of your pussy. Feeling the warmth of this fullness spreading up your body. Keeping your eyes on him. The way his messy hair was messy but in the sexiest way. The beads of sweat started to form on his skin. The way every muscle flexed, and vein popped as he fucked into you. That stupid toothy grin that made you weak in the knees he had when catching you observing. “Always take me so well, baby.” The little nicknames that made you melt whenever he called you them.

It was all enough to get you close.

But not enough to get you over the edge.

“Helps when you feel so–fuck–so fucking good.” You cursed out right as the head of his cock hit the spot extra well.

Another round of these motions was all you needed to realize what you needed. And all Time needed to do was look at you to see what it was. Nodding his head, feeling his calloused hands move. One traveling down from your hip to your clit. While the other just tightened its grip. “I got you, just be a good girl and keep those pretty eyes on me.”

The extra stimulation to the bundle of nerves with those two words was exactly what you needed. Once he felt you tightened around him, he didn’t hold back. Hitting your spot with every single thrust. Taking two of his fingers drawing circles to chase after every thrust. Causing the two sensations to build to such intensity. Your hands moved from his chest, where they had kept you balanced, to now gripping his shoulders. Your nails digging into his skin which drove him insane.

Mouth a gap trying to say how amazing this feels, but because how amazing it feels you can’t. Tossing your head up towards the ceiling, mouth hung open and eyes rolling into the back of your head. Feeling the coil in the very bottom of your body start to tighten. 

Just before it snapped the feeling on your clit stopped. Letting out a whine you went to look down at him before it was always done for you. His hand held your chin forcing you to look back down at him. “Eyes on me baby,” You leaned down and gave him a slow and hungry kiss before opening your eyes before pulling back.

Tim’s thrust didn’t start off slow or tried to build back up. No, instead that ruthless slammed up into you. Followed with the same intense circles on your clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the sudden sensation. Quickly blinking your eyes back to focus on him and only him. Seeing the raised brow on his face from when your eyes rolled back changed to an amused lustful expression. His ego only growing at the sight of you. Not wanting to lighten up on you until he hears your crying his name. The thought has his balls tightening and the pressure on your clit. Wanting to feel your pussy drain him of everything he has.

When your movements grew faster matching his own need to chase his release was all tell he needed to send one last thrust up into you to cause the coil to snap. Your walls clenching around him was the last thing he needed. Hissing with a string of curses and hot ropes of cum spilled inside of you. While his name mixed curses followed as you slowly rolled your hips into him chasing and drawing out both your highs.

The soft humming sound of your apartment's air conditioning mixed with the sounds of the end of the movie was all you could hear. A soft blissfully smile broke onto your face. Blinking as you realized that your room wasn’t the light calm blue color of the morning sun barely peeking up. Instead, the bright yellow and orange color filled every small gap that your blinds didn’t block out. “I think I need to say I missed you too.”

He let out a small laugh before pressing his lips together, “Yeah I guess that was one hell of a way to show it, huh?” He remarked looking up at you with nothing but adorence. 

Helping you slowly climb off of him and tuck into his side. Pulling the blanket, the was shoved to the foot the bed up and over the two of you. Kissing the side of your head as he pulled you further into you. 

Looking up to him as he watched the tv start to play the squeal. Watching as his brows ever so slightly creased as he tried to remember if you had shown him this one before. Taking in a small breath. His cologne was still lingering even after his long shift. And the wave of content and comfort feeling his body next to you. His arms around you. The shifts were unpredictable, long, and sometimes scary. But here he was, by your side and safe. 

Feeling your eyes on him, that same toothy grin appeared looking at you. Scrunching your nose up at him before reaching up and peaking his lips. Nuzzling your head into his chest. 

[anto-pops]

Bloody Hell - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: One would think that after putting up with menstruation for so many years, you would be well accustomed to dealing with it by now. That couldn't be further from the truth, however: you hated it. So when yours arrives in the dead of night and forces you to the showers in the hopes of relieving your discomfort, the last thing you expected or wanted was for your boyfriend to barge in unannounced.

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian finds you covered in blood after waking up without you beside him and suggests a natural remedy for your pain.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, menstrual cycle, blood (kink?), explicit sexual content, explicit language, shower sex, period sex

It's also up on Ao3

To the anon who suggested this: you're an absolute icon. Never before have I been so captivated by a request. This haunted me all night.

You were no stranger to blood. Fighting Ashwinders and Poachers in the Forbidden Forest went hand in hand with bleeding wounds, scrapes, and bruises. But those things were a non-issue for you. A few vials of Wiggenweld or those poultice’s Nurse Blainey was so fond of handing out typically took care of external wounds with no problem. 

But once a month, you were met with blood of a different sort. 

The menstrual kind. 

Which is why when you awoke in the Room of Requirement with a familiar sensation afflicting your lower stomach, you knew right away what was happening. The weight of Sebastian’s arm slung over your waist couldn’t distract you from the cramping sensation in your gut. It felt like your organs were being twisted– contorted into shapes and squeezed so tightly that a pained groan bubbled in your throat. You stole a glance at the man next to you, paranoid that somehow he would telepathically know what was going on. He was still sleeping, though, and you sent a silent prayer up to the heavens that he would stay that way. 

Escaping his embrace was a task in and of itself. There was no such thing as personal space when you and Sebastian spent the night together. You had convinced yourself a long time ago that he would crawl inside your skin at night if he could, but you were immensely grateful that such a thing was impossible. The thought of him being made aware of your completely normal ‘time of the month’ made you shudder with revulsion. 

Yes, it was a completely normal part of female biology… but it wasn’t something that any woman just went and talked about. At least, not any self-respecting woman. A lady’s cycle was for her and her alone to deal with. 

In the process of crawling across the bed, you felt a telling slickness between your legs that had nothing to do with your previous nighttime activities with Sebastian. You knew the second you pulled your undergarments down, you would be met with the sight of your ruddy, ruined clothing, and that thought coupled with the discomfort threatening to bring you to your knees was enough to cause tears to well up in your eyes. 

Dammit! It wasn’t like you could control that either. You were a moody, gross mess. If there was a choice between going comatose for a week or living through this ungodly experience once a month, you would gladly choose the former. Death was preferable to bleeding all over yourself and dealing with sore breasts, cramps, and emotional outbursts. 

There was no way in hell you could handle all of this here. The menstrual pads and linen rags you kept handy for these times were at the bottom of your trunk in your dorm, and you’d foolishly left your wand on your nightstand as well. Sleeping in the Room of Requirement had been a last minute decision, and without your wand, there was no way to Charm over the things you needed. The inky night sky visible through the windows told you that it was the middle of the night, which meant that traversing the corridors to fetch your belongings was out of the question. The last thing you wanted was for a resident ghost or a Prefect to catch you and question you about what you were doing out past curfew. 

The Prefect’s bathroom was nearby, though. That would have to suffice. You would go there, clean up, and then figure out how the hell to deal with this… situation. 

As you shuffled out of the tiny bedroom and through the main chamber of the Room, another wave of pain stabbed at your gut and made you hiss through your teeth. If you didn’t collapse on your way down the staircase, it would be a Merlin-sent miracle. 

—

The warm stream of water cascading down your head had helped to clear away the pain-induced haze that clouded your mind. That was the extent of the reprieve you were granted, however. Everything else still hurt– had begun to hurt more the second you’d reached the bathroom. The cramps, your back, your breasts– even your fucking feet. Why did being a woman have to be such a punishing experience? 

Wiping at your face with your damp palms, you pointlessly wished that this could have happened at any other time. Late in the evening yesterday when you had been in your dorm, or earlier in the morning today so you could have made it back to your room in time to get your linens. Not now. Not in the dead of night– not the one time students were expressly forbidden from wandering the halls. 

The universe hated you. You hated yourself. Even standing beneath the shower head, you felt dirty. No amount of scrubbing would change the fact that your pajamas were soiled. You would have no choice but to put them back on and hope against all odds that no one was awake early to spot the giant stain blooming across the back of your trousers. 

Between the rush of water roaring past your ears and your own self-deprecating thoughts, you failed to hear the footsteps echoing throughout the bathroom until they halted right beyond the curtain. One singular, thin sheet mounted to a metal rod by tiny hooks was all that separated your naked, bleeding body from the unknown person, and your heart stumbled in your chest at the vulnerable realization. 

“I take it you have a good reason for up and vanishing in the dead of night to come shower?” 

Shit. Sebastian. Peeves rising through the floor to taunt you would have been preferable to this. “Don’t come in. I– I had to cool off. I couldn’t sleep– just go back to the Room, I’ll be there soon.” 

Liar. If you could somehow get away with spending the rest of the night in the Prefect’s bathroom, you would gladly do so. That was a much better idea. 

“Cool off?” Sebastian scoffed, and your throat tightened uncomfortably when you saw his fingers appear around the edge of the curtain as though to yank the barrier aside. “There’s enough steam in here to gag a Dugbog. What’s wrong, darling? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine! Just go back to bed, Sebastian. Please.” 

He was quiet for a moment– long enough that you were certain he had caught the shrill edge to your voice. You sounded anything but fine. But then his fingers fell away from the edge of the curtain, disappearing behind the makeshift blockade completely. Any second now and his footsteps would resonate throughout the room and give you confirmation that he was leaving– that you could continue to ride out the waves of pain and humiliation in solitude. 

But the sound of him leaving never came. 

Instead, you were deafened by metal scraping against metal as Sebastian yanked the curtain aside, his disheveled form staring back at your nude one as you screeched and tried to cover yourself with your hands. “Sebastian! What the hell?! I said leave!” 

His eyes raked down your body, starting from the top of your head, then along the plane of your torso, before finally settling on your red-stained thighs. “No, I don’t think so.” 

“I beg your pardon? Since when is it acceptable for a man to barge in on a woman in the shower? You’re unbelievable!” 

His dark, penetrating gaze returned to your panic-stricken face, his brows furrowing in response to your rightful anger. “It’s acceptable since I’m your boyfriend, for starters. This isn’t anything I haven’t already become intimately acquainted with, darling. Second, I was giving you a chance to be honest with me, but since that’s apparently not going to happen, I need to take matters into my own hands.” 

“What are you on about? I was being honest. I couldn’t sleep! Not everyone is blessed with the ability to pass out after laying down for two minutes.” 

“Ah, but you’re only being partially honest, sweetheart. Were you ever going to come clean about the blood on the bed? Or the blood on your trousers? Was I meant to overlook that little omitted detail?” 

Mortification stronger than anything you’d ever felt made you go rigid. Suddenly the blistering water coursing down your back felt decidedly cold, and your cramps were momentarily forgotten as your stomach churned with nausea. “I– well– that isn’t your business. It will never be your business. So just let me deal with it by myself and go. Back. To bed.” 

Sebastian’s jaw hardened as he clenched his molars together, his eyes narrowing challengingly in a way you were all too familiar with. You were well aware of his stubbornness– sometimes you even admired it. His tenacity and ability to get what he wanted was something of a super power to you, but right now it was a downright nuisance. This wasn’t the time nor the place for him to try to bully you into confiding in him. You were naked in a shower, for Merlin’s sake.

Was nothing sacred anymore? 

Instead of arguing with you further, Sebastian nodded once to himself before releasing the curtain. His hands fell to the hem of his sleep shirt, hauling it over his head in one swift motion that revealed all of his tanned, freckled skin at once. If you weren’t so bewildered and agitated, you would gladly take a moment to relish in the sight. But then he moved on to his own pajama pants, hastily kicking those away to leave him as nude as you were, and your brows disappeared into your hairline. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“I’m not going back to bed without you. If that can’t happen, then I’ll join you in here.”

He tried to step over the tile ledge, but the hand you’d kept over your breasts shot out at that moment to slap against his chest. Sebastian frowned, actually mustering up the audacity to glare at you for trying to protect your dignity. “Y-You can’t. It’s not clean in here.” 

“It’s a shower. Logic dictates that it’s as clean a space as they come. Now move over–” 

“Sebastian, I’m bleeding.” The word left you in a breathless rush, shame and insecurity softening your previously stern tone. He didn’t show any reaction to the confession, though. He just remained rooted to his spot by the curtain with his head tilted to the side. “I’m dirty. It’s on the tiles– you can’t come in here.” 

Sebastian reached up to clasp the hand you had planted to his chest tenderly, his thumb stroking over the back of your knuckles. His eyes glimmered with something curious as they roved down your body again, and then he asked, “Why on Godric’s green Earth do you think you’re dirty?” 

You swallowed, entirely too embarrassed for comfort. It was bad enough to have to go through this whole ordeal, but to describe it… 

“Because it’s blood. It’s gross,” you explained weakly. With any luck, that would be enough to quell the inappropriate conversation and get the man to scurry back to the Room of Requirement. 

But Sebastian only looked amused. He smirked in a way that conveyed both disbelief and reassurance before laughing quietly, gently prying your hand away from his chest so he could bring it to his lips. “Darling, we see blood all the time. Our extracurriculars are hardly the safest. Between Crossed Wands, the Highlands, and your Herbology plants sinking their teeth into my legs, do you really think a little blood would gross me out?” 

“Well, no… but that’s different.” 

“Why is it different?” His voice was like liquid velvet he implored you further, entrancing you enough that you failed to muster up the willpower to stop him as he took a step into the shower. “Because of where it comes from? Those prudes that call it taboo don’t know a damn thing. Not to say I know more than anyone, but I’ve read plenty of books on the subject… do you want to know what I think?” 

The entire time he spoke, he encroached into your space more and more until finally he was towering over you. Your shoulder blades pressed against the wall of the shower, Sebastian’s taller frame forcing you to crane your neck back to look up at him. His hair was soaked now– fully at the mercy of the water gushing from above– but he didn’t so much as blink as he waited for you to answer him. 

When you mustered up the ability to nod shakily, Sebastian grinned and began sensually trailing his fingertips over your shoulders. “I think it’s a profound thing. Spiritual, even. In other parts of the world, women are revered for being able to create life, and bleeding is a natural part of that. It’s normal, and you’re not dirty. On the contrary, I think you’re beautiful. I mean, you’re always stunning, but there is something about you covered in blood that I find rather ravishing.” 

The blush staining your cheeks had absolutely nothing to do with how hot the water temperature was. “Now I know you’re lying. That’s just insane to say–” 

“I’ll prove it to you,” Sebastian interjected, digging his nails into the skin of your upper arms. “You trust me, right?” 

Of course you did. If there was anyone you knew you could rely on implicitly, it was Sebastian Sallow. He was loyal, caring, and would go to the ends of the Earth for you if such a thing was ever necessary. But this was… well, a little intimidating. You’d spent the last eighteen years believing that the only way to deal with a menstrual cycle was to isolate yourself and hide the evidence. To open up to him this way– to blindly let him guide you towards whatever revelation he was leading you towards– it scared you. 

You pursed your lips together, trying to hide the grimace that threatened to take over when you nodded again. Sebastian, much to his credit, didn’t laugh or make a big deal about having your go-ahead. To some degree, he had to know this was a first for you, and you appreciated his candor in that regard.

When he leaned in to kiss you, you were too distracted by his lips and tongue and teeth to realize that he was sequestering you into the corner of the shower. Your mind was too muddled to realize much of anything until his hands trailed lower down your abdomen, gripping you around your waist and urging you to relax. The nauseating pain that came with your cramps returned then, and you groaned into his mouth before pulling away with a shudder. “I don’t know, Sebastian. I really don’t feel well. Everything hurts right now.”

“I can help,” he whispered before his mouth reclaimed yours. A predatory sound rumbled deep in his chest, and the way he overwhelmed all of your senses made your knees buckle. His lips brushed against yours when he pulled back to murmur, “I promise. I’ve heard of a foolproof way to make it hurt less. Just trust me.” 

You didn’t have to be a Leglimens to guess what he was implying would ‘help’. If there had been any doubt before now, you would have figured it out when his fingers appeared against your cunt– sliding through blood and water easily as he neared your entrance. “It might be messy,” you supplied lamely, your body betraying your words as your legs parted of their own accord to give him more room. “You really don’t need to do this.” 

Sebastian silenced you with a quick kiss before trailing his mouth along your jaw, bumping your head to the side so he could nip at your pulse teasingly. He stepped forward more to close the gap between the two of you, his startlingly hard length pressing against your hip and making your mouth dry up. “You’re always messy for me down here. A little blood makes no difference.” 

Merlin– your cheeks turned beet red at his quip. Your resolve was crumbling remarkably quickly, Sebastian’s lips and fingers making you melt despite your reservations. How could he be so unbothered by something like this? It wasn’t just blood he would be faced with. There were thick clots that accompanied your flow, your lower stomach bloated uncomfortably, and your breasts looked two sizes larger than normal. You didn’t feel like yourself– barely looked like yourself when it was your time of the month. Wasn’t he troubled by that? 

Sebastian pressed a finger into your core with measured caution, and gods, you were so wet. There was no way of knowing whether it was from the blood or the water, but you honestly didn’t care. As embarrassing as it was to have your boyfriend willingly covering himself in your fluids, it was also strangely arousing. If he didn’t mind the one major thing you deemed disgusting about your cycle, why should you? 

At least, that’s what you told yourself. It was harder to actually believe it.

A second finger curled into you then at the same time Sebastian’s other arm wrapped around the small of your back, pulling you flush to his chest as he licked, bit, and kissed at your neck. With every pump of his digits, your legs grew weaker, and before long your boyfriend was forced to pin you against the shower wall with his chest to keep you upright. “Is it good, darling?” 

You weren’t sure what to think. Everything you were feeling definitely seemed more sensitive than you were used to, which made sense considering how violent your menstrual cycle tended to be. When Sebastian pressed into you harder and curled his fingers deeper, you croaked weakly and dug your nails into the tops of his shoulders. “Don't– don’t know…” 

He repeated the motion a second time before withdrawing his hand from your cunt, holding it up at eye-level to reveal the stark redness that covered his otherwise sun-kissed skin. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to look away or not. It had to be the running water making it seem like so much blood– the mixing liquids transforming into a ripe, pink color that dripped down his forearm and off of his elbow. He smirked when he caught sight of your aghast expression before dropping his hands to your hips, lifting you up easily before motioning for you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

“S-Sebastian, wait– your hand is filthy–” 

He sucked his teeth loudly as he dropped an arm to position his cock against your folds, shooting you a dry look that quelled any further arguments. “Once again, we’re in the shower. And stop calling it filthy– your blood is anything but gross.” 

The words you opened your mouth to speak were replaced by an airy moan when the head of Sebastian’s length breached your walls slowly and tentatively. It felt tighter than normal, but incredibly slick, too. Your boyfriend evidently agreed, because he groaned out curses as he fed more of his cock inside of you. Once he had bottomed out completely, he lifted his limp neck to fix his eyes on you, and the way his pupils dilated reminded you of an animal lost to the throes of bloodlust. 

He spared a brief moment to readjust his grip on you, holding the undersides of your legs and using the wall to pin you in place. Then he was moving, his strength unwavering as he pulled his hips back before driving them forward again– only this time with more force. His leverage over you allowed him to aim every thrust perfectly, striking the deepest parts of you with alarming precision, and all you could do was hold on to his shoulders for dear life. 

“F-Fuck, Sebastian–” you stammered dimly, your voice nearly drowned out by the sound of the rushing water. He groaned eagerly– your only sign that he had heard you– and then leaned against you more so that when he freed his blood-soaked hand to fondle your tender breast, you didn’t fall. 

Red, finger-shaped stripes appeared along your skin as Sebastian massaged your swollen chest, timing every gentle squeeze with each plunge of his cock. You wanted to be disgusted by the sight of your body’s essence being smeared across your flesh, but that thought came secondary to the realization that everything he was doing felt good. Every thrust seemed to grant relief to your twisting insides, prompting your muscles to relax before shifting to clench around his length. The pleasure was rapidly overshadowing the pain, and once Sebastian took note of your pliant state, he abandoned your breast to tilt your chin up and kiss you. 

His tongue swept along the inside of your mouth, wringing tiny noises from you that he enthusiastically swallowed up. The way Sebastian held you fast to the wall with your legs clamped around his hips made it so that his pelvis rubbed deliciously against your clit as he moved, and you fully surrendered to the bliss that came to replace your apprehension. Your eyes squeezed shut as something far different from your cramps began to build in your lower stomach– a telling heat that grew in intensity and threatened to burn you from the inside out. 

“I can feel you,” Sebastian panted against your lips. “You feel so warm– so tight–” he punctuated the statement with a hurried snap of his hips, expelling a strangled gasp from your throat. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” 

“Yes. Yes, it’s good.” 

Sebastian returned both hands to supporting your rear as he speared his cock into you harder, gripping you with strength so intense that you knew it would bruise. The realization that you craved his marks on your body left you moaning fervently. You wanted the memory of this moment etched into your skin long after the blood had washed away, because you didn’t want to forget a second of it. 

The blasted man had been right, but you weren’t keen on telling him as much. 

As the pleasure mounting in your gut amplified, you tried to rut down onto Sebastian’s cock in a bid to chase the euphoria dangling in front of you. The water beating down on both of your bodies made it difficult, however, and Sebastian stilled your movements by pressing you into the wall so firmly that your shoulder blades scraped against the tiles. He held you there securely, rolling his hips into yours as he slammed into your cunt over and over and over again until finally you were crying out his name, your walls clamping down on his cock viciously. 

You felt lightheaded as your climax washed over you, your muscles tensing and limbs trembling as Sebastian held you through all of it. When your head fell back against the wall, you heard and felt the low rumble in your boyfriend’s chest as he found his way to his own precipice. The warmth of his release filling you somehow soothed the lingering soreness in your abdomen, and the minute rocking of his hips settled your nerves marvelously. 

When you finally found your voice again, all you managed to say was, “Bloody hell.” 

Sebastian huffed out a laugh, lifting his head to stare at you through his dark lashes. “Was that supposed to be a joke?” 

“No, you dunce. I’m just… surprised.” You looked down to stare at where the two of you were still connected, not at all shocked to discover that both of you looked like you had been maimed from the waist down. Blood was everywhere; on your stomach, your legs, and the base of Sebastian’s cock looked like someone had tried to saw it off. It was a ludicrous sight. 

But a new, budding part of you also found it to be equally arousing. 

Maybe exposure therapy wasn’t the worst way to handle your aversion to your own womanly… period of time.  

When Sebastian gingerly withdrew from your walls and set you down on your feet, you were pleased to discover that your cramps had miraculously calmed. There was a lingering ache between your legs that ebbed up to your inner-stomach, but it was nowhere near as harsh as it had been earlier. You weren’t even sure if you could blame your cycle for that. 

Something told you that the culprit of that bizarrely nice soreness radiating from your lower half was hanging between Sebastian’s legs. 

“I take my thanks in the form of kisses, by the way.” 

Your eyes skirted away from the blood running down your thighs to land on your very smug, very arrogant looking boyfriend. His brown eyes twinkled with amusement when you pouted at him, and his laughter shook the walls of the shower when you reached out to smack his chest. “You don’t have to be so boastful about it, you know. Can you blame me for being hesitant?”

He shrugged and stepped under the spray of the water, tipping his head back to shift his wet hair out of his face. “Not really, no. But you should know by now that you can talk to me about anything– even the embarrassing stuff.”

“Well, I know that now. I’m not a villain for assuming you would be grossed out by all of this, though.”

Sebastian smirked and tugged you under the showerhead alongside him. He situated you so that your back was to his chest, then reached around to run his hands over the red-stained parts of your stomach, gently washing away the streaked blood. You couldn’t help but relax into him– entirely too at peace to deny yourself his touch any longer. 

“That’s a fair assumption…” he mused thoughtfully, lowering his head so his lips were pressed directly against your ear. The feeling of his breath fanning across your damp skin sent a chill down your spine, and you swallowed thickly when he proclaimed, “But any wizard of true merit wouldn’t be opposed to getting a little blood on his wand every now and again.”

Gods. His madness truly knew no bounds.

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

there's just something about this sopping soggy specimen of an alien that makes me want to suck his dick-

[madeforgyu]

something to do with baths and dad gyu is so lovely

bath time. (18+ only, mdni)

summary. mingyu takes care of you after a long day.

pairing. mingyu x f!reader (reader notes. smaller than gyu. she also kinda neurodivergent but can be read as just introverted)

genre. fluff! but marked as +18 bc dadbf!gyu

word count. 675

author’s note. i wrote this at 2am when i was supposed to be asleep

you had a long day. both of you did. you had gone from one event to the next— late lunch with seungkwan and vernon followed by a movie, then gym with his trainer and woozi, and finally, dinner (also with woozi and his trainer).

you had loads of fun— you always do when you’re with mingyu. but while your hunk of a boyfriend is extroverted and easy-going and sociable, you’re a lot more reserved and social interactions drain you.

and mingyu knows this because of course he would.

so the minute you get home, he takes your bag, runs you a bath, and promises homemade hot chocolate and kisses before bed.

mingyu has his arms wrapped around your middle as you lay against him in the warmth of the bathtub. you sit between his legs, back pressed to his chest and head resting in the curve that connects his shoulder to his neck.

neither of you speak.

the bathroom is silent, but safe. comfortable. he knows you need a little quiet to decompress from an entire day’s worth of just being. bubbles float around you in clusters that look like fluffy clouds and you play with it gently, stuck in your own world.

the water is warm, maybe a little on the hotter side, but to the both of you, it’s just right.

“love you, daddy,” you say breaking the silence with a soft, contented sigh as you melt into mingyu.

he smiles as he hears your voice. he takes it as a cue that you’ve come down from your inner world and you’re ready to talk again.

“love you more,” he replies with a kiss to the side of your head. “how you feelin’, baby?”

“tired. but happy. you?”

“happy that you’re happy.” he kisses your shoulder. “think i overbooked us today. sorry, love.”

you smile at his words. he’s always been so attentive to your needs. you hands drop to caress his thighs affectionately. not to initiate anything, but just to touch him.

“s’okay, daddy. i probably needed today too. y’know— for enrichment.”

he chuckles and nods like he’s convinced. “for enrichment. like a cat.”

“well, you do call me kitty sometimes—”

“OKAY—! yup, she’s awake. baby is awake.”

“daddy, you got me a collar—”

“do you want me to get hard right now, baby? i thought you were tired?”

you laugh at him. he laughs too and the sound is music to your ears. he tightens his grip around your midsection and buries his face into into the side of your neck. he squishes you and nuzzles against your shoulder, trying to get rid of the cuteness aggression rushing through his body because god, you are a menace but you’re adorable all the same.

“i mean… i’m jus’ sayin,” you trail off once his laughter has died down.

“shush.”

he ushers you out of the bath when the water turns cold and he notices the skin on your fingers are starting to wrinkle. then he picks out matching pajamas, dries your hair for you, and when both of you are done with your night time routines, you make him the best homemade hot chocolate he swears he’s ever had in his entire fucking life. you giggle and kiss away the chocolate milk mustache over his top lip.

you sit on the couch, pressed up against mingyu’s side with your head on his shoulder, hot chocolate turning cold on the coffee table in front of you. you sit in silence again, the netflix in the background merely white noise to the both of you now.

it doesn’t take long before you doze off, too tired from the day to stay awake. he scoops you up in his arms, carries you back to your shared bedroom, and tucks you in under the covers. then he slips in next to you underneath the blanket and cradles you in his arms.

“g’night, baby. sleep well,” he tells you, even though he knows you’re already fast asleep. with one last kiss to your forehead, he closes his eyes.

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x plus size reader

warnings: angst, allusions to smut, major body insecurities, troubles orgasming due to said insecurities, eddie is so incredibly sweet, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: this started out as just a little angsty thing cause i was in my feelings, but it quickly spiraled into something more. while i feel a little nervous sharing it because it directly mirrors my own experience with intimacy issues and self esteem, i hope it can maybe help someone who has felt this same way <3

“— just stop, eds. it’s clearly not gonna happen.”

he can hear the disappointment in your voice as you tug his hand out of your panties. willing away the tears that threaten to spill past your lash line.

you swear something’s wrong with you.

he’s been at this for well over an hour, having to take multiple breaks from when his fingers started to cramp up. your clit feels almost raw, yet numb to the touch. the constant circles he was rubbing against it left you with nothing but discomfort.

“sweetheart—” he whispers, brushing your hair back from your face.

but you quickly bury your face into the pillow, the sheer humiliation makes you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. you already know what he’s going to say, he’s said it more times than you can count.

“save it, please. i don’t want your pity,” your words are slightly muffled, but he hears them loud and clear.

so he stays silent, keeping his chest pressed into your back. he rubs soothing circles over the curve of your hip while you soak his pillow with your tears. each silent shake of your shoulders twists the knife deeper into his gut.

why he hasn’t left is beyond you— anyone else would have.

not only is he stuck with a girlfriend who can’t take her clothes off in front of him, he’s stuck with one who can’t finish either. you can’t imagine how frustrating that must be.

“why are you even still here?” you sniffle, feeling his body stiffen behind you. “this can’t be fun for you.”

he doesn’t answer you, instead moving from his position behind you to roll you onto your back before he slots himself between your thick thighs. and even in the dark of his room you can see how your words have upset him.

“— i’m here because i love you.” he asserts, calloused fingers catching your chin to keep your gaze level with his. “i stay despite how much you continually try to push me away, because you’re everything to me.”

and he catches some more tears that trickle down your cheeks with his thumb. he unintentionally swipes them over your lips and they taste almost bitter on your tongue when you take a shuddering breath in.

“i just.. i feel like this is too good to be true— that you’re too good to be true.” you voice is barely above a whisper now, “that once you see everything… you’ll change your mind.”

his eyes slip shut and an almost painful look crosses over his features.

“baby,” he sighs, carefully taking your hand to guide it up his bare torso. you can feel the uneven flesh beneath your fingertips, a reminder that you almost lost him not so long ago. “you could grow a third head and sprout a tail and i would love you just the same.”

that image has you giggling softly, the sound causing his eyes to flutter back open. eddie grins down at you, bringing your hand up to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“there’s my girl,” he hums.

and despite the worry that still lingers in the back of your head, your body automatically reacts to his gentle words. you shift your hips beneath his own, now acutely aware of how uncomfortable the damp cotton feels against your skin.

eddie can see that spark of need return to your eyes, his head tilting down to nudge your nose with his own. he inhales your soft gasp when he carefully presses his hips down into yours.

“can i try something? if you don’t like it, i promise we can stop.”

he waits before making another move, lips hovering over yours until he hears your soft confirmation. then he starts to descend lower.

his lips press against the cotton of your sleep shirt, across the soft pudge of your belly. and you hold you breath when his fingers graze over the hem of it, slowly beginning to push it up your plush thighs.

“eddie i—”

he must hear the alarm in your voice as he stops, warm eyes gazing up at you from where he’s positioned between your legs.

“do you want me to stop?” he asks.

the small shake of your head encourages him to continue, pushing the shirt up only until he can see the outline of your panties.

“we’ll keep this on, okay?” he motions to your shirt.

“okay,” you breathe.

you feel your body is on fire, every nerve ending like a live wire. and you practically jolt when you feel his lips press against your damp underwear, his tongue licking a slow stripe between your clothed folds.

“oh,” you sigh and you can feel his deep chuckle rumble against your core.

so he does it again, enjoying the breathy whine that tumbles past your lips. eddie’s fingers slide up your thighs, sneaking underneath the elastic of your underwear as he continues his actions. going slow enough to get you used to the feeling, but firm enough so you feel each drag of his tongue.

after your first failed attempt from earlier you feel ravenous, now bucking your hips up against his mouth. and your boyfriend seems to get the hint.

“you want them off, sweetheart?”

and you nod almost frantically, any feelings of insecurity pushed to the wayside as your desire slams back into you at full force.

not needing to be told again, eddie carefully guides the fabric down your thighs. tossing them next to you on the bed before he coaxes your legs to rest on his shoulders. even in the dark he can see the curly hairs that cover your mound and the sticky strings of desire when he guides your folds apart with his fingers.

you hear a soft curse leave his mouth, his hair tickling your inner thighs when he leans down further to guide his tongue through your slick.

“so fuckin’ pretty, baby.” he coos.

you gasp aloud at the sensation when the muscle delves deeper, dipping inside your entrance before dragging more slick up to your sensitive nub.

everything feels more heightened like this— more intimate. and you swear you’re more in love with him now than you ever been.

so you let your body sink further into the mattress while he tastes you properly for the first time. his own hips rutting against the bed in tandem with each glide of his tongue. the noises he’s making are downright filthy, the vibrations only aiding in bringing you closer to that release.

it’s right within your grasp, all you have to do is reach out and take it.

the edges of your vision start to blur while your fingers card themselves through his curls to hold him in place. and that wave that’s been building up inside you finally crashes over the surface.

your shaky cry of his name has him moaning into you, his hips twitching as he spills into the fabric of his boxers. and he doesn’t mind when your trembling thighs tighten around his head, keeping him locked into place between your hips.

not that eddie would ever complain.

you finally release him when the feeling becomes too much, thighs settling onto the bed when you tug at his curls. he lifts his head then, eyes mirroring your half lidded gaze. his slick-smeared lips shine in the moonlight that streams through his bedroom window and you feel another rush of emotion flow through you.

“thank you,” you whisper, voice cracking.

he brings your knuckles back to his lips, pressing a wet kiss onto each one. satisfied with his work, eddie crawls back up your body, pressing tender kisses until he reaches your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer when your mouth do meet.

but that’s when you feel it. the warm, sticky mess that has soaked into his boxers and smeared across his hairy thighs.

“did you just— ?” you ask in almost disbelief, wide eyes meeting his own when he pulls back to give you a cheeky grin.

another gentle roll of his hips has you gasping aloud, the action pressing his mess further into your own as he chuckles deeply.

“damn right, i did.”

[ratatoastwrites]

The Tell-Tale Heart

Spencer Reid x afab!Reader

nsfw, 18+ MDNI !!

a/n: this was heavily inspired by MGG’s narration of The Tell-Tale Heart on spotify ✨ also this is the product of me desperately ignoring my irl problems lmao 🤓

cw: fingering, also this is heavily unedited and english is not my first language lol, oh yea and i didn’t write aftercare cuz i just couldn’t be bothered tbh

thinking about Spencer fingering you while reading a story out loud for you

he knows how much his reading voice turns you on, teasing you with fluttering touches, before finally sinking his long digits inside your heat

he will drag it out for as long as he can, not letting you come before he finishes the story

you’re sat either on his thigh, or pressed up right next to him, basically glued to his side on the sofa, with your eyes shut tightly, concentrating all your senses on his voice and his nimble fingers moving languidly inside of you

he sometimes increases the pace, to match with what is happening in the book, whispering a few words like innuendos into your ear hotly

he never stops his reading, barely paying any attention to you, his eyes glued to the book in his spare hand. you know that it’s only to rile you up, because he doesn’t even need to be looking at the text in the first place with his eidetic memory

you fall apart embarrassingly easily like this, and while he usually loves hearing your noises, at times like this you both relish in the way you try to silence yourself, not wanting to miss a single word escaping from his perfect, kissable lips

you know that he has pavloved you when you immediately tense up as soon as he snaps the book shut, coming around his fingers with a pathetic, high pitched whimper, grabbing onto his arm and hiding your face in his neck

he usually keeps moving his fingers inside of you as you ride out your orgasm, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head

[slowd1ving]

KILLER ・゜゜MOZE NSFW

"All you are to me is a bleak obsession I am the mark intent on burning the street How many times can I ask you? How many days can I go without you?" Hǎoshì chéng shuāng. 好事成双. Good things come in pairs, even if the pair in question is a homicidal crow and a brokenhearted cryptologist. art by @ ma_mori74 on x!!! moze can we honestly e date? you’re so beautiful. You always make me laugh, you always make me smile. You literally make me want to become a better person I really enjoy every moment we spend together. My time has no value unless its spent with you. I tell everyone of my irls how awesome you are. Thank you for being you. (joke) (not really) this was kinda rushed so :3 errr consider this like part 3 of tales of a disgruntled corvid pairing: moze + male reader warnings: nsfw, male reader, mentions of blood/death/violence, alcohol consumption, jealousy wc: 4.5k  

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Hǎoshì chéng shuāng. 好事成双. Good things come in pairs. 

Fortune. It is a humorous concept for Moze: tasting of a fleeting childhood dream and the dregs of hope. Fortune, as some know it, comes in all forms. From gilt wealth and corruption, to finding a strale dropped on the street and getting to bed on time—everyone, it seems, tastes good fortune somewhere along their paltry lives. 

Moze’s good luck surmounts to meagre things: not getting blood beneath his nails after a mission; evading the prying eyes of the Yaoqing as he slinks into the shadows; working by himself; and most of all, not running into you. Good luck equals a tidy house and leftovers in his fridge. Good luck equals not needing to stock up on the tools of his trade and knives that don’t need sharpening. Good luck equals a fresh steamed bun and a slow day perched on the roof of a building. 

The point must be made. Moze does not experience auspicious encounters often. 

Conversely, those afflicted by confirmation bias might say misfortune comes in threes. Misfortune, for Moze, is significantly easier to quantify—but to stratify it into threes grossly underestimates the cesspit of chance he’s been allotted. 

One: being outside currently at Jiaoqiu’s food stall while rain drizzles down on him. It could be argued it’s only by his own volition that he’s slurping on steaming chilli-infused noodles as petrichor stains the air, yet that stupid fox decided this was the way to go in terms of conveying intelligence from Feixiao. This was the hell crafted by Jiaoqiu’s hands seeped green with pungent herbs. 

Two: getting his apartment lease renewal rejected a week ago over a development project at his block. Though he had been planning on starting afresh—never one to stay in the same area for too long, just like the rest of the Shadow Guards—he quite liked the nondescript studio. It’s a tidy place: plain and unassuming. What a pity. He’s read the message from his landlord over and over: growing a tad bit more incensed each time. 

Three: the sudden absence of suitable apartments in the districts that he sticks to. None of the flats he browsed were innocuous enough, and the ones that were perfect for his schedule and profession were in dismal condition. 

Four: you purchasing a flat a month ago which perfectly fulfilled his conditions. Two-bedroom, in the lower districts of the Yaoqing, with reclusive neighbours and a walking distance of the Seat of Divine Foresight. Had he gotten the notice for his lease rejection earlier, it might’ve been him there. 

Five: upon asking about his dilemma, Feixiao’s eyes gleaming bright. This was the indicator for certain disaster—an omen as ill as he ever saw. And unfortunately, her gaze next fell on the scripts you were working on, before flickering back up to you. Shit. That was the only thought running through his mind, before she pitched her idea to have him simply move in with you. Say no, he pleaded mentally, but alas—

“Sure,” you mutter, red ink spilling from your pen onto the parchment. Bold characters sign the form off and the letter is folded neatly onto a cycrane absent-mindedly; before you finally look up at the assassin who flinches as your eyes land on his. “S’long as he pays rent.”

Six: you agreeing to this stupid deal. Why? Why? It can’t possibly be the deep veneration for the Arbiter General. Surely your adoration of her cannot be deep enough to let this guy room in your house—an assassin, at that. You aren’t a follower of Qlipoth, but where the hell is your sense of preservation?

Seven: him not actually finding any fault in the building. Not in the surroundings, nor the modest room across from yours, nor the lazy grin on your face as you showed him around the apartment—still expecting him to vehemently shake his head. 

He signed the damned contract, and that was that.

“What’s got you sighing?” Jiaoqiu eyes him from where he’s pulling noodles: sleeves rolled back to avoid dusting the salmon hues with flour. Fragrant red wafts from the pot on the stove, and he’s suddenly reminded of the crimson shirt you wore just this morning—rippling around the taut lines of sinew and muscle as you worked diligently on decrypting ancient alchemical texts. “I thought you found yourself a place to stay, so why the long face?”

Moze keeps his silence. Well, tries to—but it’s not like a singular word will make him any less laconic. Tapping his chopsticks against the rim of the blue-toned porcelain, he evades the question and focuses right on the middle of Jiaoqiu’s sentence. “Somehow.” 

“Right! Your dearest partner—” Jiaoqiu drags the word out, characters stretched tight until they wind right against Moze’s eardrums. He glares: visibly annoyed, yet this only makes the man in his peripherals close his own eyes in satisfaction. “—took pity on you, didn’t he?”

“Maybe.” The assassin slams down the rest of the piquant broth: lips dripping with sanguine. His response is a question in itself—because why the hell did you agree to Feixiao’s request?

“Curious?” Of course he’s curious. 

“It’s not much of a surprise, really,” the foxian sighs, twisting the strands into a neat circle and letting it drop into the boiling water. “Poor thing’s probably still in shock from his breakup. I think he would’ve agreed to pretty much anything coming out of Feixiao’s mouth at that point.”

The man can only stare incredulously. Every part of that sentence is laden with a bombshell. 

“Wow, I thought you would’ve known. Guess what’s said at Qiu’er’s stays there too.” Jiaoqiu’s golden eyes gleam slightly at the mention of the downtown bar. No, Moze didn’t know. No, Moze isn’t currently outright staring at the man no longer in his peripherals. No, Moze cannot hear his chopsticks creaking beneath his grasp. “Woah, don’t break those.”

The fox eyes the crow warily. “Seriously. Cool it.”

Eight: you’re still not over your boyfriend cheating on you. In the drizzle beneath the canopy, this is how your new roommate diligently listens to how his work partner and resident cryptologist really can’t catch a break from bad men. 

“That includes you, you know,” Jiaoqiu squints at an unusually contemplative Moze. Flickering amber lights and the buzz of cicadas makes the assassin seem even more shady than usual. “You don’t have a chance, so don’t even try.”

“The hell are you talking about?” For someone like Moze, his piece of good fortune is that his voice remains steady in almost any sort of situation. This means that anyone hearing this man speak right now would naturally presume he’s affronted at Jiaoqiu’s response out of its complete implausibility. But on the flip side, those who’ve known Moze longer have learnt to watch for other irritated tells of his rather than a wavering voice. The subconscious flex of long fingers. Minute shifts in the elbows propped up on the bar. Biting the inside of his lip, just enough that it’s unnoticeable. But these aren’t things the assassin really takes stock of. 

For a brief moment, Jiaoqiu’s friendly smile drops and he peers at the man askance. Is he brain dead? “...Okay.”

And that is how the tall man—hunched over in the downpour to not let his noodles get too cold—first learns of matters of a more personal note of yours. In the rare grey skies that cast over the Yaoqing, it’s a chance to digest this information he’s learnt. 

But he doesn’t care. 

He doesn’t. 

・゜゜

A painful month passes for Moze. 

There’s nothing else to describe it—psychological torment is the only fitting description of your behaviour. Outwardly, nothing changes. He still hates you, and you still hate him—two arguing peas in a pod with a mutual dislike being the only thing in common between the two of you. Outwardly, behaviour-wise, nothing changes. Outwardly, appearance-wise, something does. 

He first notices it about three weeks after that waterlogged conversation with Jiaoqiu. There’s a faint aroma of sweet-smelling smoke on you—a long cigarette holder between your fingers as you read a thick book on the couch. He’s never seen the thing before in all your months together. Sure, the Yaoqing tobacco scent fades quickly away to not linger  in the case of a borisin’s especially sharp senses—but he’s never seen that sort of heavy-lidded expression on you before. When you glance at him, it’s usually irritatedly—not like this, where your glance is hazy and your lips are parted to blow plumes from your mouth. 

Shit. He doesn’t quite know why his heart speeds up. 

The second thing he notices is that every week or so, there’s a clinging perfume to your body: never your usual clean scent, one that clearly belongs to a different person. This is the same time he starts noticing you slipping on shirts with longer necks on missions—a darker imprint just about peeking above the material. 

He’s not an idiot. He can put two and two together. 

The third instance of misfortune is your habit of wandering around after a shower with nothing but a towel wrapped around your waist conservatively. Sure, the area from your hips to your knees is covered—but what about the rest? He finds himself growing more irritable during work hours. Marks not caused by injuries still bruise your skin; as you turn your back in the kitchen to make yourself a mug of tea, his eyes rove the dips and valleys of your back. Categorising each wound. Systematically detailing each little infringement on your skin. 

He doesn’t particularly know why. Maybe his obsession with tidiness crosses over to people too. 

・゜゜

It happens like this. Occasionally, a man as ill-fortuned as Moze receives gets a break. 

There’s a tumbler of whiskey on the low coffee table in the living room. Polished chestnut—if you had to describe it—with the light shining through the amber liquid just so, until it reflects onto the varnished surface. A cube of ice sits dainty in the middle, clinking as you tip the glass this way and that. 

“Don’t spill it,” the assassin murmurs. From behind the couch, breath ghosting just past your ear. You don’t shriek (perhaps he hoped you would)—you don’t even glance his way. 

“I feel like that was a redundant warning,” you remark brusquely, taking a swill of the liquor. It’s sweeter than it would’ve been normally: courtesy of the saccharine pipe nestled betwixt your fingers and the smoke still lingering in your mouth. “Were you hoping I’d jump?”

“Yes.” Short. To the point. Laconic. That’s how those outside this home would describe the man currently leaning down, hands splayed on the backrest of the couch. “We’ve got a mission tomorrow, and you still haven’t done the dishes.”

“It’s your turn,” he adds, because he likes seeing how this man’s expression wrinkles in exasperation, likes that stupid cant of your head—for it means Moze has won this little encounter. It’s all because he strongly dislikes his roommate, no other reason. 

“You suck.” Syrupy plumes ghost his face as you exhale into his face above—he doesn’t move back, even as the traces of burnt caramel become far more prominent, even as it feels like you’re blowing him a kiss more than anything.

“And you need to clean and go to sleep before you’re late,” he grits out, more annoyed than he was a moment ago. He’d say it was due to your lack of responsibility, but this angle allows the loose robe to expose your bitten collarbone—like some stupid fucking trophy. “Like you always are.”

“I’m never late, A-ze,” you enunciate each word in such a way that makes it clear you’re not drunk—so clearly the nickname is just to piss him off. A last-ditch middle finger; a threat that hasn’t worked for some time, one that makes his stomach churn uncomfortably but not enough to admit defeat. “You’re just up stupid early.”

He goes silent, in the way he does when you’re right. Instead of saying anything, he instead plucks the glass from your hand: downing the smooth alcohol from where you drank it, enjoying how for once your mouth closes just like his. The pipe in your hand tilts this way and that as you take a drag thoughtfully—recovering far too quickly for his liking. 

“A-ze.” Like this, with wisps exiting your mouth and silk draped over you, you look good enough to eat. He freezes at the implication of his thoughts, freezes at the sound of the name blanketed in some gruesome replica of affection. He hates it; hates how his heart squeezes and a faint flush of red dusts his cheekbones. Aeons. 

It is common knowledge to not toss a starving dog a bone before it hungers for more. 

“What, you don’t hate it anymore? Here I was, hoping you’d turn tail and leave,” you sigh, theatrically despondent—much like you normally are. Too damn dramatic for your own good. 

So desperate, drinking your sorrows away as if that’ll possibly work. He scoffs, striding the short distance over so he can tower over from the front. 

“Maybe you just like calling me that,” he breathes. There’s a smile playing on his lips: the rare one he gets when he knows he’s got a point, knows when he’s right. It’s unconscious—he’s far too oblivious to notice it only occurs around you. 

“I do,” you murmur. “Bet it warms your heart though. No one likes you enough to call you that.”

“So you like me?” There’s an odd buzz in his veins tonight. As the orange lights from the street blink into existence, and the room is no longer illuminated by ‘day’, he’s glad for the darkness that conceals the heat in his face. Your clothing rustles as you stand—practically nose to nose with the man in front of you.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Xiaoze,” you mutter, and the heated breath from your lips fans over his sensitive skin—mingling with the tobacco wisps and alcohol vapour. He swallows. “It’s pity.”

“Pity?” he sneers. “Like how you sleep around to get over your boyfriend? That’s not pitiful?”

“Like I said—” your tone becomes frigid as you shift closer: until his chest brushes up against yours, until he can count every lash that glows amber in the incandescent street lamps, until he can practically taste the rolling fury off your tongue. Warm. Scalding heat ebbs from your body and flows right into his own. “—don’t get ahead of yourself, Xiaoze.”

His breath comes in ragged waves. So close. When he stands so near to a human, it typically means he’s feeling life flow from them. Not like this; but he cannot bring himself to get away. 

He’s never been more thankful for his unwavering voice. 

“Don’t give bones to starving dogs,” he murmurs, mellifluous rather than jarringly annoying. “They’ll bite.”

Smoke wafts into his face as you survey his expression: flushed, brows knitted taut, lips still slick with liquor. 

“So you’re a dog, now?” Your fingers graze his chin, canting his head this way and that as he makes no moves to evade your grasp: heart beating miserably in his chest. There’s a strange sort of hunger in your gaze. 

He’s never seen it before. 

“No, it was proverbial—” Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “—you know?”

“Just as desperate as one,” you mutter. Trailing your finger down until they graze his collarbones, it’s no wonder he flinches—and you stare at him, unimpressed. “If I tell people about this, your reputation would immediately disintegrate. How many years have you cultivated that stupid mysterious image?”

“Hah—who would believe you?” It’s true, not many people would—but alas, the important ones have already witnessed this man looking at you. 

“Jiaoqiu, but I guess he already knows what a loser you are.” And you miss how when he lowers his head, he looks like a completely different person—flushed visage mired in shadow, like the assassin he truly is. He’s staring right at you, unblinking as he watches the cruel movement of your lips. 

“Don’t talk about him right now.”

And so, you don’t. 

・゜゜

This is the prelude leading up to this particularly humiliating scene. 

Humiliating, because propping himself up on his elbows on your bed isn’t a position he thought he’d ever find himself in. Humiliating, because he never gets drunk, so why the hell is his head spinning? Humiliating, because for once the mellow deep of his voice is pitched a note higher—larynx taut with suppressed groans. Unsteady, in a way his voice has never been. 

You taste like the pipe still tipping in your fingers: candy-sweet and saccharic. But there’s also the heavy aroma of liquor on your breath, mingling bittersweet with the plumes of smoke wafting from your fingers. Beneath that, blood from a scrape on your lip—acrid and metallic. That is what he knows, so your lips moving gently against his feels so utterly foreign: and not just in the way they taste. 

When you pull back for air, his eyes are blown wide in surprise; his mouth has only ever been used to bite, after all. You seem to instinctively know this as you take a long drag from the stick, blowing the curls of vapour into his mouth when you pull back in: to induce a slight tingle into him presumably (but Lan knows he doesn’t need aid to feel that buzz). 

Languorous. That’s how he’d describe it—for it seems you only ever work lazily. There’s no hurry as you lick past the seam of his lips. There’s no hurry as both your scalding mouth and your arid fingertips trail downwards, past the vales of his tense abdomen. There’s no hurry—but Aeons he wishes there was, for your hand slipping under his shirt and against his stiffened nipples are much too damn slow. 

“Do you—do you even know what you’re doing?” he mocks, like he isn’t currently jolting as you roll the pink flesh between searing fingers. You raise a brow: lucid against the otherwise irritated thoughts. 

“Do I?” you copy his broken whine, gripping the fat of his tits coarsely while the rise and fall of his chest becomes ever so slightly more shallow. If only he could see himself right now: jarred at every turn, pupils blown out, and the residual sheen on his lips. Every damn hue of purple littering his neck and collarbone. And if only you could see better in this darkness—spot that obsessive fervour in his gaze, one neither of you are quite aware of. 

“Do you have any experiences to compare it to?” you counter, twisting your hand while he glares at you heatedly. Nothing. Quiet as a corpse when you make an irrefutable point. 

No, that’s right, you grin sardonically as you slip the long cigarette back into its place on your nightstand. Syrup drips from your mouth as you twine your free hand in his hair, tugging until he groans into your lips with his own in that mellifluous cadence. 

You’re harsh as winter. 

No, cruel.

Cruel, as you trail your hand from his chest to his waistband—palming him roughly through his pants. Cruel, as you pinion his hips against your bed to prevent them from bucking into your hand—fingers digging desperately against your sheets as you grind against him. Cruel, as you swallow each whine with your warm mouth: so sweet, so gentle even as you wrench your hand into sinew, flesh and everything beyond. He can taste the arid heartbeat through your mouth, and he’s sure you can feel his own—pulsing hotly as he yields his worries to you, just for a moment. 

Or two. 

He’s inexperienced, but even he knows what the tension in his abdomen signifies. The distinct tremors in his legs, the pain as he digs his nails into your thigh, the tightness coiling his body into rigidity. Puppet-like beneath your machinations: manipulated this way and that way with strings unseen. 

Fucking his hand has never felt like this. 

As he writhes, he greedily swallows you whole. Taking everything, including your bloodied lips, including the faint caramel tracing your tongue, including the strangled gasp as he grasps your nape with burning urgency. Aeons. He’s breathless; judged human lust far too soon. Against your brutal palm, the fabric of his trousers is slick with his release—wet patch a testament to his sin. 

Yet still you rock against him as he rides out the mind-numbing pleasure: limbs infinitely heavier from the tension suddenly all releasing. 

But he forgets how cruel you are. 

One final sweet kiss later—nails raking past his scalp and the other hand warmly pressed against his cheek—and you pull away with a lazy smile. 

“Go to sleep.” The directive jolts him awake, like a bucket of ice-cold water breaking apart a dream. Dissolved like candy, like the damn fluid in Penacony connecting the conscious and unconscious. “We’ve got a mission tomorrow, remember?”

Like the cat that got the cream, you smile Cheshire-bright. A fucking riddle on your lips. “And I still have to do the dishes, remember?”

He’s left stupefied: numb lips, a reeling head, and an impercipient body. Once more, the shower he douses himself in is frigid—but nothing could be as cold as what just occurred. 

What the hell? 

He presses his palm to the lower half of his face in shock. 

What the hell?

Seriously, there’s something wrong with you. And as he glances down, he realises with utmost horror that his problem has not yet died down yet. 

What the hell?

Important things must be said thrice. Duplicitous in nature, Moze’s fate both turns for the worse and better simultaneously. 

The bone has been tossed. What will the starving dog do?

・゜゜

All actions have consequences. 

That is a proverb universally recognised by all walks of life: trodden on by kings, revered by alchemists, and vowed by the weak. You reap what you sow. What goes around comes around. Equivalent exchange. 

The natural outcome from that night is mutual silence. You don’t speak of that evening, and neither does he—face flush with implication, yet unwilling to actually divulge his thoughts on the matter. Sure, he finds himself with his hand attempting to recreate your rough friction (teeth clenched around his shirt as he paws at his lean chest)—but it never quite works, and all of his colleagues are privy to his especially curt mood. 

Joint missions with you are now a thing painful. Tense. 

The strings that bind him to you are taut with the feeling. Constricting, tightening, until he can sense their imminent breakage. 

This leads this unusual pair to this scenario. You, fresh out a shower and post the nth mission of this month. It’s only been three weeks since that night, and watching you meander about the kitchen with only a towel slung low on your hips is giving him heart palpitations. Steam curls from your body; each time you shift, he’s excruciatingly aware of how it appears just like that smoke from that night. 

“A-ze. What do you want?” 

That’s the golden question—what snaps him out of the trance—and makes him realise he’s practically pressed up against you from the back. No, scratch practically. His arms are on either side of the counter, pinning you in position as you continue stirring the fragrant drink. Feeling that damned sear of your skin is driving him into the throes of madness. 

He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and not heeding the rivulets that seep into his clothes. So warm, he wants to murmur—but talking is for those who want to speak, and he does not want to. Not in this moment, where he’s appreciating the soap you used, the lotion spread onto damp skin, the inherent smell of you. 

His teeth graze the vulnerable juncture. You turn, and he can see your eyes waver, feel the rapid thrum of your pulse as you become aware of just how desperate he is. “A-ze.” And your hands roam his waist, tracing the taut muscles betraying his anticipation. 

His lips are heated as he leans into you: a snarling mess. Trembling fingers trace the expanse of your soft body, like you’ll ghost away just like the wisps you smoke. 

“Need you.” It’s not a plea—the rough deep of his voice makes him sound demanding, as arrogant as ever. “Haven’t I behaved?”

He’s so damn desperate as he grasps your body: bruising and fatal. He’s desperate as he kisses you heatedly, desperate while your hands brush past the feverish skin of his stomach, desperate as you push him against the couch—too hasty for the bedroom. Now, he chokes out. Now, now, now. Please. 

Pliant beneath your hands, it’s not exactly the longest time until he’s gasping beneath you. So tight, you may have commented: drunk on the sensation of him fluttering around your probing fingers. Aeons. 

He’s so malleable: arching into you as soon as you line yourself up. It almost makes you feel bad for him: feeling him flinch whenever you brushed past him, watching his face bloom scarlet as he saw the marks on his neck in the hallway mirror. Almost.

It’s because he’s so cute like this: drooling amidst all the broken noises as you slam into him. You’ve never quite seen him this dishevelled, not even during that night. Hungrily, he’s sucking you right in—paying no heed to suppressing the almost-pained moans dribbling past his open lips. 

What a mess. 

Physically, it can only be described as such. White globs decorate his flushed skin messily: pearlescent in the dim lights of the living room. He can’t even begin to count how many times his weeping tip has stiffened, not when you’re so damn insistent that he forgets how to speak properly. It’s not like you’re any better; each time you look down there’s that frothy ring that strings you two together. 

Emotionally, it’s also quite the mayhem. You don’t particularly know where to look when his eyes have that gleam in them—a sort of fervour that one rarely ever sees. Even now—pupils hazed with lust and eyelids lowered heavily—he’s staring right up at you, content as can be whilst you drill mercilessly into him. 

Fuck. 

“Come on, you—ah—can do better than that,” he taunts. As though he doesn’t look completely fucked-out, as though there aren’t tears leaking from his foggy eyes. You’re not sure where he gets his audaciousness from. 

He’s beautiful. 

“This is why no one likes you,” you hiss, sharply tugging his hair back to hear his surprised whines. Supplicantly, he does exactly what you expect. Loser. Aeons, he sucks. 

“Yeah?” he grins. “What does that say about you?”

“That I’m a no one from the Intelligenstia Guild,” you answer against his neck, feeling his throat constrict as he swallows. Though it’s only minutely, his nails dig somewhat deeper into the flesh of your back—marking you up just as much as you’ve marked him. An acknowledgement of your words. 

Well. 

You suppose you’ve always been drawn to the pathetic ones. 

・゜゜

[dilf-luvr-4evr]

Boom surprise Sadie Adler x F!Reader smut because I’m not allowed to kiss girls and I need to write my frustrations abt it </3 I’ve been working on this for a WEEK maybe? It just kept getting longer and longer woopsies also thank you for 207 followers WAAA <3 mdni!! (My first published smut!!! and first proper fic I think? Lol)

“S-shit- sorry..”

You had kissed Sadie Adler.

“I’m so sorry..”

Couldn’t even say her name.

“T’was- was an accident-“

“No,” came out of those soft lips of hers. It sounded more urgent than commanding, albeit hushed. Maybe it was your wishful thinking hoping she wasn’t mad at you.

Both of you stayed still, eyes darting everywhere but at each other. A hug to welcome her from her travels escalated into something much more.

If it was really an accident, then why was it such a big deal to you? Best friends would laugh it off, if that is what you are to each other. Sometimes, as strange as it sounds, it was really hard to tell.

You turned away first. Hearing, feeling her breath on your face making you uneasy.

But she didn’t let you. The fingers meant to catch onto your wrist caught on your hand before you so much as took another step. You stumbled back into her with a bump.

“I-”

“Did you-..” Sadie paused, voice lower than her usual volume. She didn’t usually think much of her words. But with you, it was as if she weighed every vowel. Always so careful. Even more at this very second.

“Did you hate it?” She braved herself to look at you. The same eyes used to stare daggers into one’s soul, so scared of you. Scared of this unknown thing that’s been festering between the two of you. Scared of accidentally pulling out what might have taken root.

“Hate what?”

“The kiss.”

Your mouth felt dry, eyes locked on your joint hands. Your chest tightened and it felt hard to breathe. What wasn’t real before was real now, the two words uttering everything unspoken.

It was a kiss as much as Uncle had lumbago. Merely a brush of your lips when both of you turned your heads yet it was a kiss to you nonetheless.

You just didn’t think she’d agree.

“No,” you admitted, praying she wouldn’t hear. Your stomach churned at the thought of searching her face. The quiet of the night seemed to stretch on forever and it made you wonder why, why did you wait for her return every night? A question filled with regret as well as genuine wonder.

It was probably the gnawing guilt you felt for somewhat ignoring her before she left. Only you knew why you did it and that it meant more than what it appeared. But why did it disturb you so much? Why does she haunt you so much?

As though sensing your will to leave again, she tightened her grip. Until then, you didn’t know that you could feel suffocated and comforted at the same time.

“Please talk to me..” Sadie rasped, her familiar boldness stripped off, leaving her bare in front of you. It wasn’t like you’re a stranger to this side of her. You’re one of the only person who gets to see it. It’s just that after all those times listening to her past, it’s about you now.

“Am I readin’ this wrong?” Her thumb slid across your palm and your heart skipped a beat. “Cause I feel like I’m goin’ crazy.. W-what is it? With us?”

The stutter in her speech convinced you that she was just as scared. It didn’t provide you any reassurance if not made it worse. You could fight your own doubts and fears. But it wasn’t so simple when it came to Sadie.

You could have your heart trampled on by horses and it would hurt much less than seeing her frown.

“Nothin’s wrong with us,” you shake your head before forcing yourself to face her. She looked almost desperate as opposed to the girl you knew so well and it broke your fucking heart. It strangely made you want to kiss her again.

“I- I just..” I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.

“I can’t lose you,” she blurted out, impossibly tightening her grip on you and adding another hand. “I don’t know what I did. But I know I pissed you off enough for you to act all strange around me before I left and I hate leavin’-”

“You didn’t piss me off..” you shake your head once more, giving her hands a squeeze. “Sadie, I-”

“Then can I kiss you again?”

You felt your heart jump up your throat, you could choke.

Yet you find yourself nodding.

She gently tugged on your hands and pulled you into a soft kiss. You closed your eyes upon the feel of her lips, losing yourself while your hearing loses itself in the beat of your own heart.

It took a while for you to realize that she kept on pulling your hands, leading you further from camp.

“Sadie..” you breathed out between kisses. You wanted to say that whatever’s happening between the two of you still wasn’t resolved. It was like she was in such a rush, it made you wonder if something had happened in her travels. But at the same time, this felt like everything you’ve ever wanted.

She tasted like everything you’ve ever wanted.

And if maybe she was using you for relief, you’d let her.

“Hm?” She sounded like she was too far gone to be listening. That is, if not for how good her name rolled off your tongue when you’re all breathless like this.

Sadie suddenly yelped, having tripped over something and falling on her back, pulling you down with her. Your eyes widened at how close you were. How beautiful she was with her flyaways now that her hat’s knocked off. She just chuckled, holding your face and kissing you again.

“I’m sorry,” she smiled against your lips. “For- for- mph- everything..” The rapid beating in your chest aside, you were relieved to hear the old Sadie again. You groaned and kissed her deeper as though to shut her up, your hands pulling on the collar of her shirt. She snickered even though she felt something else entirely bothering her.

Out of impulse, Sadie bucked her hips up against you, earning a whine from your lips.

Fuck.

She had to hear that again. She repeated the movement and there it was.

“Sadie,” you moaned, scrunching up the fabric of her shirt in your fists. Your mind malfunctioned from whatever she was doing. All you knew was that you wanted more.

She mirrored you with a plea of your name and continued to grind up against you. You could feel yourself getting wetter, so taken with how she feels that your mouth stopped kissing her, staying agape. Sadie gladly watched, in awe of how beautiful you’ve always been to her.

“You like that?” She asked between pants. You found yourself nodding again. “Can I touch you?” And again.

Her hands moved to your hips, grounding you down against her and you gasped. It still wasn’t enough.

Her fingers made their way under your nightdress. It wasn’t noticeable until they grazed your clothed crotch, sending shivers throughout your body. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never touched yourself to the thought of her before. But somehow this all seemed so new. Like it never crossed your mind how it would actually play out in real life.

As Sadie continued to slip her fingers past layers of fabric, your forehead found home in the dip of her shoulder like the many times it has before. Though the motion felt different from when you laughed or cried against her. It was clear now that every part of her was simply made to hold you.

In more ways than one. As more than a friend.

You made another noise that was music to Sadie’s ears when her fingers found your clit. Your hands instinctively grabbed her arms in a feeble attempt to calm whatever’s brewing inside you.

“This okay?” She asked quietly against your temple, hesitating to kiss it. She’s inhaled all the air out of your lungs, her fingers almost inside you this very second, and yet.

“Yes,” you answer like how you would to a god. So she continued to touch you like how she would touch herself.

“I’ve never..” rub. “It’s been a while.” Rub. she said it so sheepishly like your breaths aren’t growing more labored each time she moved. Rub.

“It’s alright.” I’ll take anything you give me.

“Can you look at me?” She nudged your brow with her nose. You obeyed, slowly lifting your head to level hers.

What a sight you were. Your parted lips, your half lidded eyes, how your eyebrows scrunched when she pressed on your bundle of nerves.

“Shit..” she just had to kiss you again. Might just have to keep at it until those glossy lips are swollen, a reminder of how she’s tasted you and that she doesn’t think she could get enough.

She’s been in love before and it felt an awful lot like this.

With Sadie sitting up and holding your waist, her fingers picked up pace and it all became too much for you that you quivered. Even so, you still needed more of her.

“You feel- ah! so-.. mmh..” the way a string of your saliva clung onto her lips when you gasp was too much for her to handle.

“Yeah?” Fuck, you were so turned on by everything she says or does. Like she knew what she was doing when in truth, she was still experimenting with you. Like a girl with a new toy on Christmas day. Careful yet curious. And with every new reaction she got, her eyes practically gleamed.

You nodded, unaware when you started moving against her fingers.

When Sadie pulled away to catch her breath, your eyes landed on the top of her shirt, a few buttons undone. There was something about her chest. How it fogged up your head whenever you talked to her and caught sight of it. You had to look away before you let out a whimper just thinking about what they could possibly look like.

She blushed when she saw what you were looking at. Hell, did she feel the same way about you. How she’s always wanted to see what you looked like under this goddamn nightdress. How torturous it is to share a cot with you and having to just.. Sleep.

When she realized she could taste you, her lips latched on to your neck. She spread your wet folds apart just to see if your pulse would quicken. Your throat deliciously bobbed before you exhaled a breathy moan.

“You want me to push it in?”

“Yes, yes please,” you begged, repeatedly dragging your sex on her fingers. She complied.

She helped you lift yourself up a bit as she slowly inserted her middle finger inside. Watched your scrunched up face the entire time, not willing to miss it for the world.

You let out a breath you’ve been holding once she pushed it all the way in. Almost immediately, she slid it back out, circling your clit before ramming it in again. Your wetness made it easy for her to repeat this a couple of times, making you whimper.

“Does it feel better than a dick, sweetheart?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper, a genuine question as much as a tease. It was true even with one finger. Sadie’s finger. You were too consumed to be embarrassed, the sloshing noises from your cunt speaking for itself.

“Mhm, It’s- ah!” You gasped as her finger stretched you in circles, her palm on your clit.

“Too much?” She looked up at you, concerned, searching your face as she slowed to a stop. Only to be met with your contorted face while you shake your head.

“N-no.. It’s not..” you trailed off, looking down to where you sat while you tried to catch your breath. It just dawned on you the wet patch on her pants. Surely that can’t be all your doing.

Cautiously, you reached for her belt. Your fingers were shaking.

“What’re you doin’?” She chuckled nervously, caught off guard and vulnerable with the state you found her in.

“Can I?” You asked softly, looking down at her. Still breathing heavily, you bit your lip, your eyes glazed as you felt her pull her finger out. As much as she wanted to taste you, she had this overwhelming need to watch you taste yourself. Needed to know what you’d look like after you touched yourself.

She lifted her fingers to touch your lips and without being told, you sucked on them. Your eyes trained on hers as you licked her fingers clean of yourself.

Lord..

Who is she to say no when you looked at her like that? As if she ever knew how.

“Y-yeah.. Yeah, okay..”

You released her finger with a pop and smiled before starting to unbutton her pants. If it was even possible for a heart to race faster, you swear yours did by looking at more of her skin. Meanwhile, Sadie looked at you the entire time. The strands of hair stuck to your face, the focused expression you had as you worked through her garment, your own fucking liquids laced on your lips..

“You’re my savin’ grace,” she suddenly said, quiet enough only for you to hear. You looked up at her, not quite understanding. Though it didn’t really matter when she kissed you. To hide how fragile she felt after that confession and to just.. God, she just wanted to keep kissing you. She hadn’t realized how much she missed kissing. How nice it was to be in love.

You giggled into the kiss, not one to complain. If only you were aware of how much you affected her. Sadie refused to break the kiss, tightly holding onto your face even when you adjusted to remove her pants completely. You straddled her again after, your legs folded on either side of her.

“Christ, the grass is sharp. Pokin’ at my ass,” she huffed, pausing the kiss to look down. You laughed and smacked her arm, not used to such comments in this sort of situation.

“Sadie!”

“What?” She smiled, looking up at you as she held you closer. Her fingers traced the sides of your arms, sending chills down your spine along with the night air. It didn’t help either that you were now sitting right on top of her wet crotch. Her hairs scratched your clit through the fabric in the most pleasant way.

“I shouldn’t have gotten you stark naked in here, sorry,” you said shyly. It suddenly occurred to you how much you wanted her that you were willing to do it in the open.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry about,” she chuckled, pulling your face into yet another kiss for God knows how many times tonight. “Now what were you gonna do to me?”

And just like that, the feeling in your stomach returned.

“Wanted to- mmh- to- try somethin’..” you murmured, right hand holding her waist while your left slowly lifted her right leg from under you, emitting a moan from her. Your lips retreated from hers, now having connected by your foreheads. Immediately, your eyes moved to take a proper look at her sex. You just had to touch her. Needed to. So you left her leg to rest on your shoulder and you touched her.

Your fingers reached her wet folds and oh, it was so wet. Wet in every sense of the word and full of slick. When you felt your way around, Sadie let out a throaty whine that felt warm on your face. Her hands landed on your shoulders. Like she isn’t quite sure what to do with them. Is it okay to wrap her arms around you?

“I got you,” you assured her in a whisper prior to kissing her cheek. It was such a sweet gesture that she was taken aback when you started slowly circling her clit with your thumb. She breathed out your name and you hummed in satisfaction as you started a trail of kisses down to her jaw.

Sadie bucked up against your fingers and you could tell she was getting impatient. It hit you that she wanted this as much as you did and you don’t think you’ll ever believe it.

“I told you I got you,” you say sweetly against her neck. All the while penetrating her with two fingers at once. Not like it was hard to do at this point.

“Shit- oh-” her rasps as you steadily moved in and out of her were intoxicating. Surely this was a dream. You’ve only seen her this way in your dreams and they aren’t even a quarter as wonderful as this.

Her leg twitched above your shoulder as your fingers kept the pace, your thumb flicking and pressing the nub above her entrance. Your other hand gently pushed her down, moved by the way her chest heaved as she panted. You were past being shy.

You opened the buttons on her shirt and she surprisingly helped. It was like your heart counted down with you to the moment she revealed herself.

She was prettier than you could have ever imagined.

You thought you wanted to touch her breasts. What you didn’t realize was that you already did. As though your hand had a mind of their own. You continued to do so, relishing every inch and scar with your fingers. Her face and the noises she made throughout will definitely create a place in your mind.

As you sucked on her bud, you could feel her clench around your fingers and hear her whine. This must be precisely what heaven is like.

You wondered what would happen if you quickened your fingers and you did, making her call out your name.

“K-keep that up and I- shit-.. I ain’t gonna last long.” And you planned on doing exactly that. You pulled out to rub her clit before pushing your fingers in again. She gasped, moving away at the motion until your hand returned to her waist, keeping her in place. You didn’t know what possessed you. You just had to know what she looked like completely undone.

You lifted her waist a bit like how you would yourself as your fingers searched for that place inside of her. You knew you reached it when she let out a strangled noise and grabbed your arm.

“Right there?” She could only nod, jaw slack. You felt yourself clench at the sight, your movements unfaltering to her pleasure. It didn’t take long for her to come.

You made sure to watch her face when it happened, memorizing how she trembled under you, kissed her and swallowed her cries.

Again, you didn’t know what got into you. But you pulled out of her and quickly rubbed her clit throughout her orgasm, making her scream into the kiss before she pushed you off her. You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you laid next to her, sucking her cum off your fingers. You made a mental note to drink it from the source next time.

“Lord, what’s gotten into you?” Sadie panted, a big smile on her face. Not that she’d have it any other way. You just giggled, covering your face. She saw this from the corner of her eye and scoffed, catching her breath before she got up to straddle you.

“Now, you don’t get to be all shy again after doin’ that to me,” she chuckled, removing your hands from your face and pinning them down.

“I’m sorry, I just..” no matter what you do, you couldn’t stop smiling. Despite the loud beating of your heart from what you’re about to say. “I’ve been wantin’ to do all kinds of things to you Sadie.. God, I’m crazy about you.”

Sadie felt like her heart was about to combust from how fast it was beating. Returning her feelings right after making her come? She couldn’t be more sure of how she felt about you at that very moment.

“I know I ain’t a man and I’m not supposed to-”

“Just shut up and let me kiss you again?” Of course you let her.

my masterlist

thank you for reading!! 🫶🏼

[meowrimo]

zoro + mutual masturbation has been on the brain . . WC : 500

zoro’s never done anything sexually past fisting his cock whenever the urge was too strong. he doesn’t know how to please another person in that way, hell, he barely knows how to please himself. its been his biggest worry when it comes to you — his pride riding on the fact that he has to be the best, needs to make you unravel around him as he drives you over the edge.

so you had the brilliant idea of showing him how. the only catch is that he had to show you too.

everything happened so quickly — clothes being shed, door securely locked, your back pressed against the padded arm of the couch while he all but towers over you, leaning into your space with his hand gripping his cock.

the closeness was palpable, zoro all but stealing your breaths as his face was mere inches away from yours, letting out raspy pants of your name as he flicks his wrist faster to the sight before him.

sweat beads along his hair line, one by one falling down the side of his face, tracing his sharp jawline before dripping off his chin. the room’s tension was immeasurably thick, creating a foggy heat that licked at his abdomen, almost coaxing him to prematurely spill into his hand.

doing everything he can to combat it, he swallows thickly, feeling his adam’s apple bob with a slight perspiration covering his skin in his own dew of desire.

zoro knew you were speaking, could hear your sweet voice trying to tell him something that could’ve been important to the task at hand — but all he could zero in on is the squelch of your cunt as you stuff another finger in. you were so wet, folds glistening under the soft light in the room you two explored each other in. zoro licks his lips in anticipation, mouth watering for a taste he’s never had but yearns for like no other.

pulsing with need, his fist tightly closed around his ever leaking tip and gives it a few squeezes in hopes of staving off his release, unintentially edging himself as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

mystified, zoro can’t look away. not when his name sounds like a prayer as it tumbles out from your lips. with a groan, his hips stutter as he loses control, feeling himself spurt up along his hot, heaving chest. sharp eyes trained between your legs as you all but ride your hand, juices steadily coating your fingers.

ignoring his own mess, he lunges toward you before he can even think, lightly gripping your wrist and enveloping your fingers in his mouth. the groan he lets out reverberates along your bones and deep in your soul, building up another fire within you as his tongue swirls between your digits until they’re perfectly clean.

“again.” is all he says with a breathy grunt, pulling you flush against the couch, situating between your legs with a starved yet determined lust blown look in his eye. “but this time, i want to do it.”

[satorusluver]

Virgin!Choso x fem!reader

Minors DNI

Word count: 650 ish

Tags/warnings: she/her pronouns, hand job, blow job for like two seconds, premature ejaculation lol

Choso, who is 150+ years old but has never been intimate with anyone, so he's shy and nervous and so so sensitive when you two first start doing things. He audibly gasps when you first palm him through his robes, and at first you think maybe you've done something wrong. But when you ask him if he's okay he gives an eager nod, his dark eyes already glazing over with pleasure and you've barely even touched him. And when you ask him if he'd like to go further, he chokes out a desperate "please, my love" in that deep voice of his.

Choso, who lets out a soft whimper when you finally free his cock from its confines and an even louder one when you wrap your hand around it. His dick is hot and heavy in your hand, already twitching and throbbing and aching to be touched. It's even prettier than you imagined it would be, too -perfectly straight, long and pale with a girth a little thicker than average, and a dark pink mushroom head that's already weeping precum from how excited he is.

Choso, who's never been touched by anyone else in that way, who's surprisingly vocal for someone who's usually so quiet as you slowly pump him up and down, taking your time trying to figure out how he likes it. Except he likes anything you do, every touch is heaven to him. It's unlike anything he could have imagined to feel your soft hand on him, and when your thumb rubs along his leaking slit, he involuntarily bucks his hips up into your hand with a low "oh, fuuuck." Your slow but firm touch feels so good that after only a few minutes he's already beginning to feel that pleasurable pressure building in the pit of his stomach, feeling his abs tense slightly each time you stroke your hand up his length.

Choso, whose pale face is so red and flustered at the sight of his pretty girlfriend lowering her face down to his achingly hard cock. He can't help but note the size of it compared to your face, but all coherent thoughts fly out the window the moment your hand curls around his base and your tongue comes out. His breath hitches in his throat when you slowly, teasingly lick your way up his length, never once breaking eye contact. It's the hottest thing Choso has ever seen, you're the hottest thing Choso has ever seen, and before he can stop himself, he's blowing his load then and there like the pathetic virgin he is. He opens his mouth to warn you, but all that comes out is a strangled moan before his cock twitches violently and a thick load of cum spurts out messily, covering your face in the thick, white substance.

Choso barely has time to enjoy the sweet sensation before he's panting out an apology, his whole body still tingling with the aftermath of his orgasm. "I'm sorry, shit, I'm so sorry. I couldn't help it, you were so good and you know I-" he babbles on, his face only turning redder with every word. Choso is petrified, terrified you'll be angry with him, disgusted with him, that you'll think he's as pathetic as he feels right now. So it's much to his surprise when you let out an amused giggle instead of a repulsed groan. And even more so when you wipe a streak of his cum off your face with two of your fingers before bringing those fingers to your lips and sucking them clean with an all too pleased smirk.

"It's okay, baby," you reassure him gently, "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." You lean down once more to place a brief kiss to his still half-hard cock with a little wink. "I'll clean myself up and then maybe we can try again in a little while, yeah?"

[jupiterpiss]

i keep seeing ex remmick which u eat up everytime but i’m wondering what the process of breaking up with him would be like

Thank youuuu 😝😝 I feel that a lot of this is kinda just me retelling some stuff.. maybe? Not really but it’s different ways he’ll be ruining your life that were mentioned before. This doesn’t have a ton of smut.. actually close to none lolz. This reads to be very.. aggressive on his end. It is supposed to be like that.. he’s a piece of shit sorry.

Honestly.. I think it would be a very complicated process.. because in my mind I think Remmick doesn’t necessarily ever think you two are ‘broken up’. Like yes.. you kicked him out and told him to fuck off and said this is over BUT LIKE you were just upset. People say means things all the time when they’re upset.

I truly don’t think he ever sees you as not satisfied.. cause he knowssss he’s satisfying you so like why are you acting mean and RUDE?? Not cool wtf. It’s kinda how he wouldn’t leave alone ANYONE IN THE JUKE JOINT even tho they told him to fuck off SEVERAL TIMES. He literally won’t take no for an answer, it’s not in his vocabulary so why should it be in yours.

So with that added pain of him not really seeing you as separated just ya know going through a mild disagreement.. which if he wants to call it that he shouldn’t be using the word mild. It’s farrr from it, like you two literally threaten each other, that’s not mild.

Threats of killing one another, threats of going to the police or family or vampire hunters. Everyone and anyone at this point. It’s bad. Wtv. Ahem.

Point is— it’s hard to leave someone who doesn’t see you as separated.

That’s also where the toxicity comes from, because at some point you become beyond annoyed with him. He won’t stop showing up, won’t stop threatening to eat your family, coming up with lies that he’ll change, that NO he isn’t mean.

You eventually meet your breaking point when you do try to move on, threaten to start sleeping with other people and he, I KIDD YOU NOT, yells about how you can’t be with anyone else cause uhhhh he’ll curse them to die from a terrible infection!

“Vampirism?”

“No.. worse. If you sleep around, every dick you touch will fall off.”

And he’s not kidding LMAOOO. Do I think he’ll have the ability to do that.. idk. I don’t actually know if vampires can actually possess people or anything.. but he does cause I said so. Not possess I guess but more so he makes them go crazy. Like actually crazy.

Remmick PLAGUES the minds of those you touch. Also.. he counts this as cheating on him. He’s not too fond of it, matter of fact it pisses him off really really bad but wtv. You’re just going through a weird phase.

Ya know those people who say ‘they know where home is’ when speaking about their cheating spouse? Yeah that’s fucking him. Except he also curses and scares off anyone you actually do. I don’t wanna go tooo in depth cause quite a few people asked for a second ex!Remmick post and one person asked for this exact scenario.. so more on that later. It’s gonna be part of the part 2 of that post.

Anyway.

Once your done with sleeping with other people cause CLEARLY that isn’t helping anyone (this proves his point right btw even tho it wasn’t on purpose on ur end.. he still sees you stopping as a means of you ‘leaving this phase’)

You decide that maybe packing up and moving would do good. Leaving your house, leaving your family, the town. Everything. Last day of packing tho he shows up and fucking flips his shit.

This is where I reallly wanna reel in the fact that toxic Remmick is extremely scary. Like really scary, you should probs not be trying to look for this man, type of scary. Cause he wrecks all your shit, tells you how are you going to leave when you have nothing??

“Fuck you! I’m done, we’re done— done! I’ve been done, I’m moving-“

He tuts, shaking his head slow, “and what exactly will you be leavin with? Got no furniture now, got no clothes, jewelry.. baby, you’re not prepared to go.”

And it’s like.. hello?? Yes I was but you literally lit all my shit on fire while happily jumping up and down. Hooting and hollering, happier than a fucking clam. He’s unwell. He saw all your stuff resting outside, heard you still shifting around stuff inside, packing the rest of what you got. You live far out.. so having shit stolen isn’t exactly on your mind but you thought ‘hey, just one more box and I’m done’ only to go outside to see a massive bonfire.

And who’s standing beside it with a box FILLED with matches? Remmick :))

He lights all your shit on fire, and if you have a car he slashes the tires. Lights it on fire too.. this is starting to sound actually really bad. Omg okay but HE DOES THIS OKAY. I’m not backing out, he destroys ur shit!!

Okay.. moving is a big no. And ya know what else is a big no.. ur friends. You see.. Remmick does some hunting and searching, he decides ya know what?! I’m gonna take this bitch’s friends. Yeahhh fuck you im making you a complete loner. So that’s what he does LMAOOOO he makes ur ass a bigger loser then him by quite literally taking out all of ur friends.

And he uses that hivemind like noooo one else. Forces them to try and convince you back together, that really he will change. That this is just a word phase ur going through, cold feet. Ya know.. but that’s okay! He’ll warm them up!! He completely takes away their personality, who they are. What they want, what made them.. them. Everything you loved, those imperfections, the characteristics.. mind you, these people are your home. A found family of some sort all built on the need to find connection outside of family. Outside of blood.

And that’s gone.

It freaks you out, rightfully so. Everyone is so.. bleak. A empty cast of what they use to be, pawns for his own destruction. Makes you wanna vomit and sob on the floor.

And you do. Really you do. You start to actually feel trapped, unable to really do anything.

Your friends keep saying, “just let us in! Let him in! I can see all his memories.. all his emotions. Everything. Honey, he really does love you.” And it would be a friend of urs that HATES men. Hello? Not the same person.

AND HE STILL WONT LEAVE GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE. Stillll thinks ur together and—

“ya know, this whole cat and mouse thing is really startin to get on my nerves, hun. Just- I don’t even know why you’re upset.”

He really doesn’t. Remmick doesn’t get why you won’t let him in, or why you keep claiming you broke up. You didn’t? He thinks he’s in the right, thinks all of this is for your own good cause.. you two are meant to be, mean to thrive together. Why would you give that up cause of one messy argument.

It wasn’t a messy argument and really he’s always been manipulative.

If he were to convince you to have make up sex he would try to baby trap you. I’m certain of it.. that or because I don’t think vampires can have babies, he would bite you. Just like in the fic. More on this later.. actually I’m thinking long and hard about this, you will be seeing it.

[powerfultenderness]

Clone Wars

This [post]: "saying I would fuck your identical clone but not you and refusing to explain"

You know who it would be fun to fuck with like that? Adrian Chase, Vigilante, the love of my life. And it would be soo easy to steer the conversation towards it too!

Just imagine:

Chilling with the gang, the TV's on but no one's really paying attention to it until you sigh at some random commercial. "Oof, that guy is so hot." You say as the narrator says "Freddie Stroma as-"

And everyone pauses, looks at the TV, looks at you, looks back at the TV, then looks at Adrian.

Adrian's confused forced laugh fades when he realizes everyone looking at him. "What?"

"Really?" Chris' voice and face incredulous as he looks at you, though Adrian is still confused and thinks he's talking to him, so repeats his question.

"That guy?!" Chris jerks his thumb towards the TV, even though the game is back on. "You think that guy is hot?"

"Yea." You nod, suppressing a smirk as Chris and Adebayo fall into your trap.

Adrian blinks, still confused, "I mean, I guess he is? He's not the big buff handsome type like you, P."

Chris rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "No, I'm not asking you. That would be weird."

"What? Why? You think because I'm a man I can't tell when another man is attractive? 'Cause let me tell you-"

"Dude! Shut up! You know I don't give a fuck about that! It'd be weird because you look just like him!"

Everyone else nods and a round of "yeas" echoes around the room.

"No, I don't!" Adrian denies quickly, mostly out of what he feels is social obligation.

"Yes, you do! Look!" Adebayo, sweet Adebayo, holds her phone out and zooms in on a picture of the actor. "He even has the same dimples as you!"

"Yea, just throw some glasses on the guy and dye his hair and he could be your twin!" Economos almost hits your mark.

"Yea, you would know, dye-beard."

"Hey look, here's a picture of him with glasses!" The actor is even wearing a baseball cap in the photo, obscuring his blonde hair and looking even more like Adrian.

"Psh! Twin? That guy could be your evil clone!" Chris scoffs as he looks between Leota's phone and Adrian.

"Why's the clone gotta be evil?"

"The clone's always evil." Economs sides with Chris, who tilts his head in thought.

"Actually, maybe Vij is this guy's evil clone."

"Hey! I'm not evil!"

'Come on! So close! Christopher Smith, you perverted motherfucker, don't fail me now.' Horses and water...

"Whatever!" Chris finally yells over the discussion of whether or not ones clone would be evil. (Really, it was going on a little longer than it should have!). "Look, the point is: I would fuck my clone, evil or not."

Yes! Finally! It takes everything in your power not to grin like a maniac.

Leota and John voice their disgust over the thought of fucking their clone while you wait for Adrian's response. You know he's going to agree with Peacemaker, just say it!

"Yea, I'd totally fuck my clone, it'd be awesome!"

More groans and exclamations that you ignore as you theatrically thoughtfully tilt your head and tap your chin. "Hmm, yea. I'd fuck your clone too."

"You mean you'd fuck your clone?" Adrian tries to correct you, a cute helpful smile on his pretty face.

"No." You smile sweetly at him, "I mean, I would fuck your identical clone, Adrian."

He smiles even more, leaning in towards you, eyebrows raised. "Really?"

"Yea," you hold a mollifying hand up, like you were telling him not to worry. "But not you."

"What?"

"Ha! Fucking thimble!" Chris and the others fade in the background as you and Adrian lock eyes.

"But why not?"

You lick your lips, his eyes flicker towards the movement, and just when you open your mouth to answer your phone lights up in your hand.

"Oh." You look down and quickly turn the screen off just as quickly as it lit up. "That's the boss. I gotta go. See you guys later!"

Chris is still laughing at Adrian's rejection even as everyone else bids you a goodbye. Well, everyone but Adrian.

Instead he follows you out the door, "wait! That doesn't make any sense! Why would you fuck my clone but not me?"

He's followed you all the way to your car at this point. You open your car door and look at him, "your identical clone."

He's so cute when he's confused. "What?"

"Yea, no offense to that actor guy, but I really like you with dark hair."

"Really?" Then his smiles falls as he gets confused again. "But then, why wouldn't you fuck me?"

All you do is smirk at him as you slip into the car.

Of course he's not letting it go though! He rushes around to the passenger side and climbs right in. "Ok, why would you fuck my clone, but not me?" He asks again, this time a little slower and moving his hands as if that'd get you to answer him.

~Fade to black~

Adrian rolls onto his back, his breathing a little hard as he grins up at the ceiling. "So, you would fuck me and not my clone!"

"After that?" You too are a little short winded. "I'm definitely fucking your clone."

"Seriously?"

You turn your head and wink at him, "threesome."

His face lights up even more than when you kissed him. "Oh! Ooh!"

[corisandevontruckle]

when y/n is being the cutest, petitest, tiniest, smolest, most adorable, totally-not-like-other-girls-because-she's-unalived-someone-and-has-caught-the-attention-of-gasp!-her-enemy, organic, grade-a, unfiltered, grass-fed, stupidest fucking idiot I've ever seen in literally any situation whatsoever ✨🥺🥺🤪✨: