#and let each other down and get very intense

[bird-inacage]

Firstkhao's Appeal: Soulmates (Love in it's Purest Form)

I saw the videos that fans posted from The Heart Killers Fan Meeting in New York where First had been unwell. It broke my heart to see him apologise and feel so guilty for something as human as being sick 😢.

Khaotung was visibly very worried. He kept casting concerned and lingering glances in First's direction. I imagine they were both trying to be lowkey about it (likely due to First's wishes). But watching First attempting to push on with a smile, which Khaotung could see right through, had them both a bit teary. Khaotung clearly couldn't bear seeing him like that and First couldn't bear seeing Khaotung upset because of him.

To have someone by your side who hurts when you're in pain, who will cry for you when you're trying to be strong, whose very presence is your safe space when you're suffering, must be a huge comfort. They looked ready to ball their eyes out during the performance of 'My Fuel'. The meaning of that song would have hit very close to home right there and then.

I also found it so respectful that Khaotung asked for First's consent before divulging this with the audience. Because he knew how hard First was trying to appear normal, and didn't want to undermine that effort. Still, out of fierce love and devotion for his best friend - he wanted everyone to know that First did his absolute best. Eager to affirm First's commitment and dedication, who felt like he still didn't do enough. And in turn, First gets why his friend would like to speak up on his behalf, and lets him. There's so much unspoken trust there.

This is why Firstkhao attract so much admiration. The level of care and support is so sincere. Even through a screen, I feel it's intensity. FK's definition of their relationship as soulmates, couldn't be more fitting. First recently conveyed a similar sentiment, but I have always believed it's reductive to consider the term 'soulmates' in just a romantic context. If you needed any proof of that - this is it. Their partnership surpasses that of lovers, best friends, companions, allies or family. They are each other's person.

I'm just grateful the THK boys are such a supportive quartet. I hope First is taking some well deserved rest to recuperate, considering what a rigorous tour schedule they're currently on. It's very reassuring to know that Khaotung is with him, so there's no doubt he's in very safe hands. Please take it easy you precious sweethearts, our hearts ache for you when you're run down. I feel for all the fans who were in the audience, it would have been very hard not to cry along with them. I can't believe I'll be seeing them in the flesh in just over a month.

[heartfike]

light switch // d.f

summary: y/n and dom have been on and off for as long as they've been together. they've been ride or die for each other for almost 2 years now, but their flame seems to be dying. is it time to turn the lights off for good?

pairing: fem!latina!reader x cheating!dominic fike

a/n: first fic lol. i'm a girl wit an intense personality, this how i would react if dominic ever try me like this lmfaooo. y/n and dom be so toxic in this fic, i hope yall enjoy >_<

it was a friday night, y/n had just gotten off her shift at this shitty clothing store at the mall. she was grossly underpaid, but secretly she liked it. she always had an eye for fashion and designing, so she enjoyed helping others with their fits.

dom, he was usually between jobs, but he had been working at this smoke shop, the one known to not id minors. he works near the beach, so a lot of high schoolers that were ditching were his usual customers.

they were at his small studio in naples, he was busy playing video games with his brother, alex, and his best friend, reed. he was sat at the edge of the bed, y/n was scrolling on her phone, laying comfortably under his covers. she heard a buzz coming from his phone, y/n was curious!

she sits up and finds his phone right next to his body, she reaches over and asks "who's texting you?" it was like his body went into fight or flight, before she could even check, he was already standing up with his phone in hand.

you see, y/n was understanding but boy was she a jealous one. not like he wasn't either, but she could handle the jealousy. in fact, she actually liked the jealousy. she liked that he cared enough to be jealous, she felt wanted.

dom was the opposite, he hated when y/n was jealous. he also hated getting his privacy invaded, it was one of the main reasons they're so on and off. y/n checks phones, she doesn't like feeling like he's hiding something. i mean she allowed him to check her phone, so what's the problem?

"nobody, it was my mom." he responds instantly, pocketing his phone and sitting down to get back on his game.

"then let me see, why are you acting like that?" she reaches for his pocket, his hand catching hers. he hangs up on the boys, he kisses her, she's on her back before she could even blink. it's a distraction, he always used sex as a distraction.

she pushes him off slightly, out of breath, she's not one to forget easily.

"let me see your phone, why are you hiding what your mom is saying?" she asks again, reaching for it again.

at this point they're playing tug of war for the phone.

"yo, chill out. give me my phone bruh." he's losing patience and he's usually very patient.

"let me see! why are you being like this?" she finally grabs it and has time to see the notification he got. ashley texted him a 'hi dom :)'

"who the fuck is ashley?" she scrolls, feeling a pit in her stomach. it's a feeling a girl never wants to feel.

"she's a coworker from work." he says, straight faced, with a bit of irritation. he was over this, he should have just kicked this bitch to the curb when i had the chance, he thought. though, he was the one always begging for her to come back and that he misses her. he couldn't ever let go, she's his comfort.

y/n wasn't an idiot, the fact that he thought he could lie in her face made her think dominic thought she was a fool.

"a coworker? really dominic? just like desiree was a classmate. you must think i'm stupid." she gets off the bed and she's putting on her sandals.

desiree was a past mistake, one he deeply regretted. it had put a huge strain on their relationship, but that's only because she found out. she was sure there were many more. i mean he is a guy from florida.

she's grabbing her bag, one that dominic got her on their anniversary. it was a coach shoulder bag, she had a polaroid of them in it. even when they go on their breaks, she never takes out that polaroid. she carries a piece of him everywhere she goes, that's how much she loves him.

he's already pleading with her to calm down and not to make a scene. wrong move.

"calm down, don't make a scene. let me explain, baby. i promise it's not what you think it is." he pleads, still having a composed demeanor. inside, he's shitting bricks.

"no dominic, i'm not going to calm down. we can't keep living like this, we break up and make up and go through the same cycle almost every week." she's walking out of his small studio, walking down the stairs to go to her car.

he's following her, still talking.

"here, here's my phone. go through it. i promise i'm not talking to other girls. just listen to me." he's trying to get her to at least hold his phone, but she's not having any of it. it's embarrassing for her.

he's blocking the drivers door and pleading with you, he bets he looks as pathetic as he feels. he doesn't like having to beg someone to hear them out.

truth is, ashley is a friend from high school. he doesn't find her attractive, nor wants her in the way y/n thinks he does. he was catching up with her because she's was dating his now deceased high school friend.

it was innocent, but the way he acted made it seem like it was the opposite. y/n was not hearing it, it was like he was a little boy being scolded by his mother, it was embarrassing for him as well.

he was sure his nosy neighbors were looking through their windows, he wasn't even paying attention to what she was saying, he's caught up on other things right now. fuck this, he thought.

"fine, don't hear me out, i'm done. fuck you." he's walking off back to his studio.

"no, fuck you!" she yells out after him and she's going into her car and slams the door. she speeds off, her tires screeching off the hot pavement. she was done.

later as they thought with their thoughts at night, they thought about each other. is it time to let go?

[banjomelodies]

I feel like people don't fully get The Phantom Thieves relationship to Akechi. It's either you get people who think they're all besties with no bad blood between them, or that they'd yell at each other to kill themselves the moment they lock eyes.

[Spoilers for P5R up to 1/19]

Canonically, all of the Thieves did sympathize with him in Shidos palace. They understand what he was going through and why he was doing this, they wanted to bring him back, none of them WANTED this to happen. Even the two people you'd expect to truly and thoroughly hate him didn't want him to die or continue going down the path he was on. But they're still hesitant about him, too. They don't outright hate on him or yell or insult, but you can tell just in mementos conversations that they're unsure, they're slightly put-off, because they know Akechi is capable of pretty rancid things.

You can technically call them friends, but they're friends who are uncomfortable around each other. None of them really hate him, but they aren't sure if they like him, either. Nobody in the Thieves would openly wish for harm to come upon him, but they wouldn't hesitate if he tried to pull anything over their faces again.

Akechi's relationship to everyone is even harder to comprehend, honestly. Because, yeah, in a way, I think you can definitely say there's a few he does seem to enjoy. Morgana even teased him about this in a Thieves Den conversation. He does like them, but he's also so emotionally messed up that he's unable to think of any of them as friends, as like he's said himself, he's made it this far in life without having to rely on anyone. To him, this is a transactional relationship. Even if he could want to skirt around the transactional aspect. Even if he may want a true connection.

They're people who don't truly hate nor trust each other. They're people with a distinct wall between them, with a window that lets small pieces of the other into their spaces. Neither of them can relax fully around one another, but they wouldn't really sit around and let others take advantage of the other party either (Akechi might - but that's mostly because he's the type of guy who expects people to be able to handle themselves, as that's what he did. He doesn't feel a need to jump in for someone as he wants them to figure it out for themselves first. But I truly and thoroughly doubt he'd let any of them get killed, if not for actual care, than for their deal). Obviously, you have moments where they butt heads, I recently got a Mementos conversation between Akechi and Futaba where Futaba immediately went "Yeah, and you better thank Mona!" (Or something along those lines. It was about them sitting inside of Mona) When he was making conversation. Which had that type of, not really harsh tone of voice, but not really a gentle tone either. But honestly that might just be a Futaba thing, since she takes on a similar tone when talking to her actual friends too. I'm pretty sure he has one with Ann, too, where she reiterates that their thing with Shido wasn't really fully for him, but for their own grievances too. Which, of course, these are all fair. But it's still not half as intense as interpretations I've actually seen go around before. Obviously they'll butt heads. Akechi is very anti-personal relationships, everyone else has reasons to be uncomfortable by his presence (Futaba and Haru especially), they'll absolutely have moments where they aren't going to be kind to each other. But it's still not to the "kill yourself" level.

Of course, I could be wrong! I'm only on 1/19. I'm only now doing the required checking of Mementos to keep doing the Palace (I'm focusing on Sumires confidant and awakening some companions third persona. I also need to level Futaba and Harus confidant more). I'm running strictly off of their slightly strained alliance, Thieves Den conversations, and the few Mementos conversations that I have actually had Akechi chime in on or initiate (Damn you RNG). So hey, maybe don't fully look at me for good dynamic reading at my point in the game. I just feel like there's this weird assumption regarding the nuances of their relationships.

[vaguely-concerned]

I've been picking mostly only the essential flirt options with lucanis in the romance so far (I've personally found the dynamic much more natural and mutual when you do that, more like forming a solid friendship slowly and inevitably becoming something else and less like you keep pushing on him and getting little back b/c he seemingly just gets overwhelmed and goes into freeze instead), and I think rye is a pretty hard person to read at the best of times even though he's been Down Real Bad from pretty early on and their chemistry as people is naturally really good. so the way the almost-kiss plays out in this playthrough feels a lot like it has the added layer of lucanis realizing that no but for sure rook is flirting and not just being kind or a good friend* it IS actually happening it's not just wishful/fearful thinking!!! and then uh. maybe going a bit too hard a bit too fast in all the excitement at that revelation haha

*in lucanis' defense he has seemingly literally never had a friend who wasn't his cousin-brother before, under those circumstances I suppose some confusion is extremely natural if not outright expected lmao

[monstersflashlight]

Lusty for love

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!

Cupid (monster) x fem!witch reader || sex pollen, (light) dub con, breeding, oral sex, dirty talk, praise kink

You were stupid. A bit more stupid than normal at least.

You were trying to get some new potions to work when you accidentally spilled the pink powder he gifted you specially for lust potions. The pink powder was obtained from the cupid species, they produced it on their wings and any human or monster would instantly fall into a lustful frenzy once they touched it. And that’s why it was so hard to get, they had to give it to you specifically with a very clear intent of lust...

Your cupid friend gave it to you as a birthday present, and you were supposed to drop an itty bitty quantity in each potion because every time someone used the powder, he would feel it. You promised not to use much, always controlling how many potions you’d make… But you weren’t expecting for it to slip your fingers and pretty much cover your whole body. Your skin was tingling and your brain was barely coherent when you dialed his number.

“I need your help,” you whispered against the speaker, not letting him even say hello.

His response was instantaneous: “What happened?” You could hear him batting his wings in the background, and you were sure he was already mid air coming to get you. He must have felt the powder activating.

“I- I dropped the pink powder on me,” you confessed, your breathing labored and your skin tingly.

Fuck, you were about to burst and you didn’t even move. You’d never felt such intensity before, it was like every inch of your body was electrified and caressed at the same time, even the touch of the clothes over your body felt erotic.

“Fuck,” he cursed. The air against the phone was enough to know he was rushing to your house, his wings almost deafening in the background.

“Please, please…” You barely made sense, your brain was fuzzy in a way that made your clit tingle and your panties were so wet you could already feel your juices ruining your pants.

“Fuck,” he cursed again. In other circumstances you would have blushed, your unrequited crush on your cupid best friend making you feel all kinds of emotions. But you weren’t thinking straight, and he was talking again: “I’ll be there in a few minutes, take your clothes off, rub your pretty little clit until you are dripping wet because as soon as I cross your window I’m going to be inside of you, and I won’t stop until you are dripping with my come for every single hole.”

His words drove your brain into a frenzy, the effect of the pink powder getting even stronger as you did as you were told, pulling at your clothes so fast and hard you broke something. You didn’t care, you’d deal with whatever tore later on. You laid on your potions table, not caring about everything falling down or the million little pieces of glass that were probably on the ground, you had only one focus: obey. Your fingers found your clit and you started rubbing rapidly, moaning against the phone.

“You sound so sweet, good damn it. I knew you’d be perfect,” his words meant nothing and all at the same time, your inside twisting and turning as your pussy contracted over nothing, making you whine and beg. “I know, love, I know.” You could hear him breathing hard, the powder probably affecting him too, and with each movement of his wings you could feel him getting closer.

The second your window opened with a big crash, you were begging for him and he was falling to his knees next to the table, not caring about the glass, grabbing your ankles and pulling your legs as far apart as possible. He set his big body between them, his wings so wide and soft you felt the tickle against your knees when he pushed your legs over his shoulders.

The first contact of his tongue against your tender flesh feels like lightning hitting your body. And it only turned better when his dexterous tongue found your clit. He ate you out like a starving monster, fucking in and out of your pussy with his forked tongue until you were screaming his name and asking for more. More. More.

You came in less than two minutes, with his fingers pressing against your G-spot and your brain turning into jelly inside your head. It was so much and so little at the same time. You needed more. You needed him inside of you in any way you could. You pushed your torso up, pulling your legs off his shoulders and shoved his chest back until he was a few feet back. You jumped off the table, not even feeling the tiny glasses on the ground as you walked over them.

It was like your orgasm only made you hornier, more desperate, you needed him more than you needed your next breath. “Let me suck you off, please, please…” You begged, your eyes fixated on his dick straining against his pants.

You fumbled with the zipper, and he helped you, looking at you with such tenderness that your heart was about to explore out of your chest. But first: dick.

“Okay, love. Okay. Whatever you want. You can do whatever you want to me.” His words sounded like a promise, and your brain was so fuzzy you could only nod as you fell to your knees. “Open up,” he ordered, taking himself on his hand and caressing your cheek with the other. He fed you his cock and you swallowed it down greedily. “That’s it, such a good witch for me, such a pretty mouth wrapped around my shaft. Fuck, do that again.”

You rolled your tongue over his head, pressing against the underside where you knew he was most sensitive. That cupid anatomy book coming in handy when you were wrapping your hand at his base and squeezing until you felt the ridges inside move. He cursed over you, his hand grabbing your hair so harshly you felt the tiny spikes of pain, but that only made you moan louder around him.

He cursed again, telling you nonsense as he moved his dick in and out of your mouth slightly. “Fuck, your mouth, love. You are perfect. You are so good to me. I’ve been wanting to have you like this forever. Good goddess, your mouth.” You grabbed his ass, trying to get him closer, further down your throat, but he stopped you. “None of that, I… I need you. I need to be inside of you. After that you can play with me all you want.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” your voice was airy and low, and without a doubt you knew your whole body was pink all over.

He helped you to your feet, claiming your mouth in a brain melting kiss before grabbing your ass and helping you back onto the table. His fingers found your pussy at the same time he positioned himself on your opening. “You are so wet, fuck.” He pushed the tip inside, and you were indeed so wet he slipped right in.

He cursed in so many languages you weren’t sure how many words he said, but you were in heaven. You reached Valhalla or whatever other heaven there existed out there. All at once. None at all… You touched the stars and came back to your body when he moved his hips back, pushing right back in and drawing a scream out of your lungs.

And then there was no more playing, only frantic fucking and dirty words.

“Do you like me, love? Do you like the feel of my cock inside of you? Do you like when I say dirty things to you?” You shivered, nodding frantically as you rolled your hips, chasing some of the pleasure he was promising you with his thrusts. “Of course you do, you love to be fucked this hard, this fast… You never had it so good, did you? None of your stupid boyfriends was as good as me. Say it.”

“None were… None as good as you…” Your voice was trembling, his thrusts too fast and harsh, but you couldn’t complain. You wouldn’t. It was that good.

“I know darling, I know nobody was as good as me. But you didn’t let me tell you that, did you? You were always with one or another, never enough time for me to fuck you as you deserved. To treat you as you deserve. To make you fucking mine,” he punctuated each word with a hard thrust that hit right over your G-spot, sending sparks of desire and pleasure to your brain until you were drooling over the table. “Tell me I’m wrong, tell me you don’t like me like that and I’ve been pining over you for nothing,” his anger was palpable in each thrust of his hips inside your pussy, his ridges undulating and massaging you from the inside.

“I CAN’T. I CAN’T. YOU ARE RIGHT!” You screamed as another wave of pleasure washes over your body.

But he wasn’t listening to you, he was too focused on his actions, on driving you insane. “You can’t because you like me. You’ve liked me as long as I’ve liked you and you’ve been denying us both. For what? For some flimsy human dick? No more, love. You don’t go back to anyone else anymore. You. Are. Mine. To. Please.”

“Yours. Yours. Yours…”

And then there’s fireworks behind your eyelids and your brain is short circuiting. You could barely hold your body up as he expanded his dick inside of you, the cupid trick of locking inside your tight pussy was multiplied by a thousand because of the pink dust, and you could only scream silently as he bred you to the brim and your vision turned white behind your eyelids.

You came back to your body resting over his chest, the soft feathers tickling your cheek as you looked down at his wet dick, still half hard. Your body still craved him, and you were about to act on it when he said: “For what’s worth… I really like you like that, too, love,” he whispered against your sweaty forehead, his breathing labored as his dick twitched in your line of sight.

You threw a leg over his middle, rubbing your still dripping pussy over his dick. “Prove it.”

And he did.

(He was also true to his promise to leave you leaking and bred from every single hole, but that’s a story for another day...)

[jinusajas]

02/03/25; 10:55pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

anonymous said: hii. Can i get awkward moments during sex with the boys? 🙈

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

warnings: slight voyeurism with rafayel’s.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the way sylus kept hitting that special part deep inside of you made you see stars, increasing your pleasure by a tenfold. the sounds of his cock steadily sliding in and out of your heat echoes throughout the room, and you felt so full of him-

a strange, tightening sensation travels throughout your abdomen, making you cry out when you felt an intense climax washing over you, your release wetting his cock profusely as sylus’s hips stutters in response.

his eyes go wide when he sees the copious amounts of your fluid traveling down the length of his cock, managing to drip down onto the bed as you felt the pinpricks of embarrassment coursing through your veins.

it takes sylus a few moments to gather his thoughts, realization dawning on him just mere seconds later when he asks with a low drawl, “did you just squirt on my cock?”

your stutters of mortification echoes through the room, earning a rich chuckle from sylus when he picks you up, gripping at your backside as he slots his cock even deeper into your now soaked heat, “by all means, there’s no need to be embarrassed, kitten. in fact, i’d very much like it if you did it over and over again throughout the night.”

zayne had you pinned against the hotel wall, fucking himself into your heat after finishing a lecture at his conference. the way you had constantly teased him with your skin tight dress while clinging to his arms was enough to make the doctor lose the last bit of his self control.

the moment you both return to your room, zayne pounced on you, not even waiting to take off his glasses as he pulled down his dress pants and boxers, shoving your panties to the side before sheathing himself within your slick folds.

as he thrusts himself against you, his glasses kept getting in the way each time you tried to kiss him. feeling frustrated, you quickly grab at his glasses, tossing them aside in the midst of your lovemaking.

momentarily confused as his eyes tried to adjust to the view without the clarity of his glasses. while he moves forward without breaking his connection with you, you felt your eyes go wide when you heard the sound of a loud crack! beneath zayne’s feet.

you met with zayne’s gaze, an apology on the tip of your tongue when you felt your lover suddenly pin you to the bed, pumping his cock in and out of you at a rapid pace that takes your very breath away.

“that was quite the expensive prescription glasses you made me break, honey. perhaps i should punish you by not holding back anymore?”

you cling to xavier, basking in the way he held you tightly within his embrace. feeling so desperate for each other, xavier carries you to your shared bedroom, tossing aside your clothes before setting your form on the bed.

with his gaze darkened fully with desire for you, xavier quickly sheds off his clothes until he was just as bare as you, spreading your legs before completely sheathing himself inside of your slick folds-

however, the intensity of his thrust forces the top of your head to meet with your headboard, making you cry out as you let out a groan of pain. filled with panic now, xavier quickly slides out of you, his cock already softening due to the guilt of potentially hurting you.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to hurt you…” his hands immediately try to soothe the ache felt on top of your head, earning a soft hiss from you. it takes you a few moments to reorient yourself, but once your head slowly began to stop pounding did you push xavier on his back.

“that really hurt.” you pout at him, yet instead of allowing xavier to tell you how sorry he was, you interrupt him by grabbing a hold of his limp cock, slowly stroking him back to full hardness while basking in his groans of your name, “as punishment, i’ll be the one in charge for the night.”

you tried to convince rafayel to behave during your museum date-

yet he seemed to have had other plans when he traps you behind one of the walls, hands already sliding up the skirt of your dress, “it’s your fault for getting me all riled up, princess.”

he smiles sweetly down at you, already knowing that you could never resist him when he pulls down your panties, allowing it to hang on your ankle as he lifts up one of your legs. he had merely unbuttoned his slacks, allowing his erection to peek through his boxers before impaling your cunt with his cock.

you toss your head back at the sudden intrusion, trying to keep your voice even as rafayel swiftly pumps himself in and out of you. as you became caught up in the moment, you heard a series of loud voices echoing throughout the exhibit. people had came directly into the area where you and your spoiled boyfriend were fucking, your eyes going wide as rafayel stops his rapid thrusting.

“oh the art is so lovely here, dear.” an older woman’s voice echoes throughout the exhibit, making rafayel smirk as he leans in to whisper within your ear, “relax princess, no one is gonna even notice us.”

as the older couple began to talk about the various art pieces on display, rafayel continues his rapid thrusts in and out of you. he covers your mouth with his large hand, and you could hear footsteps coming closer to where you and rafayel were hidden.

“dear, what’s that strange… wet sound? is there a potential leak somewhere?”

“ah, indeed, we should alert the curator of this. it would be a shame to see such wonderful works be ruined by the moisture.”

by now, rafayel was practically grinning at you, continuing his steady pace as the sounds of footsteps slowly walking away eased your anxieties, making you cum directly on rafayel’s cock, the sensation of your walls clamping down on him causes him to shoot his seed deep inside of you.

“heh, what a naughty princess you are, getting off by the thought of getting caught.” the lemurian had a smug grin on his handsome features, still very much connected to you as you could feel his seed running down the length of your thighs.

even when you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks-

you found yourself unable to deny his claims.

caleb had managed to trap you in his bed, pounding himself in and out of your heat, his mouth clamping down on his dog tag necklace to keep it from moving too much. as your moans and gasps echo throughout the room caleb’s phone was heard going off in the middle of his passionate lovemaking.

he clicks his tongue, and before you could even stop him, caleb removes his necklace from his teeth and answers the call, using his free hand to keep the phone pressed against his ear while continuing to fuck you with his cock. “yes?”

“colonel?”

“speaking.”

you let out a whimper when he listens to his colleague on the other line, forcing caleb to place his hand over your mouth before moving against you once more. your breasts continue to bounce in tune to his rapid movements, unsure of why he could be so calm while you remained an utter mess for him.

you were dimly aware of all the military jargon caleb said throughout the phone call while his cock was still nestled so deeply inside of you, making you whimper each time his hips met with yours in an almost bruising thrust as he made quick work of finishing his call.

“just place the reports on my desk. i’ll see you at 0600 sharp tomorrow.” with that final phrase, caleb tosses aside his phone before returning his attention back to you, “sorry about that, baby… that won’t happen again. now, let your man take care of you.” he had barely began pumping his dick in and out of you when you felt your release quickly approaching-

something about witnessing caleb doing mundane tasks while he fucks your brain out causes a new rush of pleasure to course through your very veins, making you cry out as you spilled yourself on his cock, earning a grunt of approval from the colonel settled above you.

“that’s my good girl… so pretty and perfect for me.”

end notes: i’m back home bc i miss this blog so much 🙂‍↕️ also, this request was so hot and so much fun to write ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[thalwri]

STICKY N' WET

synopsis: your agitating ex tries to disrupt your peace again, but he doesn't realise sylus is around. and neither of you realise that your working together to finally get rid of your ex would bring you much closer.

warnings: heavy smut, dry humping, strip tease, riding, creampies, shower sex, couch sex, petnames (kitten, sweetie, sweetheart), squirting, messy and very wet

wc: 5,6k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“where are you off to, kitten?”

you turned on your heel, seconds away from fuming. “i told you to stop calling me that.” 

there had been incessant knocking torturing your door to your apartment. somehow you’ve been letting sylus stay in your place for weeks on end while he occasionally disappeared to the n109 zone for his usual business.

between your tether to him being more intense than usual, and the recent events you’d been going through, you couldn’t tell whether you were grateful for his presence or felt more at peace when he wasn’t around for a brief time.

it had been five minutes. you wouldn’t really think that the knocking was bad but realistically if someone knocked at your door without a break and did it very loudly even without a response, then that would be concerning.

sylus found it irritating in the least, but had the tolerance to ignore it until the relentless fool disappeared on their own. he watched you walk to the door and look into the peep hole. your breath hitched as you stumbled back, covering your mouth with both hands before quickly dropping them to your sides.

“what is it?”

“my ex.” your voice dropped to a monotone line, your body still on the door in front of you. sylus groaned, pinching his brows but he had to admit he wasn’t surprised.

your break up wasn’t revolutionary and chaotic so to speak, but it wasn’t peaceful either. he had been there for you through the process, he didn’t even have to calm you down so he had thought you’d breeze through it and give him more of your attention.

until you started crying.

apparently, the fool had gotten with another woman just weeks after your split and that broke you. so two months following that, sylus had spent his hours of quality time with you helping you recover and move on all while plotting all the crude and illegal things he could do to that insect to avenge you. 

he had thought to impale the guy with a fork, or peel off his skin with a carrot peeler, and make a stew out of him so that if anyone investigated, they’d eat the evidence. hannibal style. if he ever told you that, you would most likely be disgusted.

sylus rose to his feet in solemn silence and gently moved you away from the door. “i’ll handle it, kitten.”

“sylus–“

“i’ll handle it.” the depth his voice had lowered to was an instant indication that you could no longer try to interfere. whatever he was about to do, you could only pray it wasn’t going to get him arrested.

you turned away, pinching the corners of your eyes as the door opened for sylus to be greeted by yelling.

“what took you so long to answer– who are you?”

“the owner of this apartment. who in this bereft city are you?” well, being the owner, so to speak, was a lie. technically you owned it– but sylus began to actually live and function there more than you had in the last few months.

just looking at the bastard in person began to irk him. sylus wholeheartedly believed you could do far better than you had but he knew better than to lose his chances of being especially close to you by questioning your judgement. he was not interested in fighting you for your attention for he knew that you truly were drawn to him.

how could you not be attracted to each other especially after all you’ve gone through together?

sylus looked your ex up and down in disgust and scoffed out a laugh. “what are you doing here? this is the last time i’ll ask.”

“where is my girlfriend?” your ex grumbled, attempting to look over sylus’ body by standing on the tips of his toes. you intuitively stepped back before you stopped. would you really let this happen over and over again? being tormented like this?

not again.

“she’s not–“ sylus began to ball his hands into fists as he spoke before you held him to calm him down.

“it’s okay,” you gave him a grateful smile, patting his chest for him to step back. “i told you to stop calling and coming to my apartment.”

“i just wanted to talk–“ 

“you lost your chance, so do me a favour and screw yourself to another planet before i feed you to the fucking wanderers. we’re over. for a reason. and here’s no turning back from that. so leave.”

“but–“

“out.”

“no, i–“

the sound of a gun– your gun– cocked, you felt a tall figure looming over you oozing murderous energy. sylus aimed the gun directly at your ex’s head.

“you heard my woman,” he snarled, trying his best to hide his prideful smirk. you felt your ears warm. look at you, standing on your own feet against vermin-like that ex of yours. “get out.”

“who do you think you are?” your ex scoffed, sorely attempting to push out his chest to seem confident. 

“he is my boyfriend,” you stepped forward, pushing your ex back by pointing your finger at him with each statement you make until he’s out of the doorway. “he is my man, he is what matters to me now, and you are nothing to me. so get out and stay out of my life before i kill you with my bare hands.”

and with that, you slam the door shut, locking the door quickly. you leaned against the door, catching empty air while your heart rate slowed down from the nerves. you heard sylus chuckle and put your gun down.

“that was impressive, sweetie.” you groaned in your hands, intentionally avoiding his gaze. you called him your boyfriend. your man. and he called you his woman. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find that nice to say, but still!

“look at me,” his voice, both soothing and arousing compelled you to listen to him. you removed your hands from your eyes and looked sylus in the eye.

“i suppose you’re satisfied.” you sighed in exhaustion, you felt so drained from talking to that ex of yours. a snack would be doing wonders at this time.

“i’m proud of you,” he smiled– a rarity from sylus but fully appreciated nonetheless. “standing your ground, defending your privacy, referring to me as your man–“

“you’re terrible,” you choked out a laugh, slapping his abdomen. 

“i’m divine, kitten, and you know it.”

you weren’t going to deny that. especially after being trapped in his homestead, after getting to know him, along with seeing a great many parts of him. he was an attractive man, that was undeniable. 

his wit, intelligence, and sense of control during missions and operations within onychinus and how he spends time with you are all things you’d grown to admire about him. you adored him and felt rather enamoured by the things he does. the things he does to you.

within the last month, you’d seen him in ways that you should have deemed inappropriate. watching exit the shower, water dripping down the lines of his abdomen and disappearing within the towel wrapped around his waist. with his grey lashes holding small droplets above his deliciously terrifying crimson eyes of his.

how his chest always looked larger every time you saw him, or how you’d intentionally bend down with your ass in the air when he was within your proximity. something at the time you thought as harmless. but now you’re standing before him and you felt a new wave of need.

whether it was from what he said or the fact that he was ready to kill for you, you didn’t know. but now you were feeling restless.

“sylus,”

he breathed out your name in response, almost as though he was holding in some pent in energy. you could feel energy swirling in your heart as you watched his eye twitch. the same eye that held his part of the aether core. were you resonating without touching each other?

“thank you,” you began, struggling to find your words. “for earlier.”

“anything for you, sweetie.” he stepped closer to you, making you tilt your neck slightly to meet his gaze. “including covering for your pretty ass whenever your missions went sideways because of that creature of an ex.”

you stifled a laugh through the noise of your aether tethered heart rapidly beating. watching his lips curve, purse, and move as he spoke, watching his eyes kind of lighten just from speaking with you… you just couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“you just can’t seem to take your eyes off me or stop thinking about me, can you kitten?” he smirked, placing his hand beneath your chin. “it would only be fair for me to admit i have had the same sentiment, but for much longer than i’d like to admit.”

“then do something about it,” you brashly whispered, feeling your patience wear thin. this was the closest chance you had at doing something with him without fear. “you’ve got your chance, so use it.”

“oh?” that irritating yet attractive chuckle filled the room other than whatever was playing on the tv. you could just feel your clit tingle from it. “is kitten baring her claws again?”

you gripped the collar of his dress shirt, harshly pulling him close to you– his lips less than a breath away from yours. “this kitten is baring her teeth, and telling sylus she wants him.”

that seemed to be the perfect buzzword. before you knew it, his lips had crashed into yours, his arms wrapped around your torso, and if you weren’t mistaken a short moan had escaped his lips. there was barely a moment for you to absorb the kiss, as you had already begun to peel each other’s clothing off from the jackets to the shirts and eventually the pants. 

you pushed sylus onto the couch and straddled him, his hands held the back of your thighs pushing you up more towards him as your lips danced and tugged away in both passion and desire. he dropped you onto his lap, subtly introducing you to the growing bulge beneath you. it felt so big. you gasped as he began to grind against your clothed pussy, his hands reaching for your ass and tits to fondle and squeeze.

“i want you,” sylus whispered, momentarily stopping to lock his crimson eyes on yours in seriousness. “and i have you. do you want us to continue. we’ll stop if you aren’t ready.”

you smiled in gratitude for his concern for you. “i’m ready, sylus. i’m ready for you–” before you could finish your sentence, your lips are locked in a chaste kiss, your groins meeting each other through relentless grinds and your heavy sighs and soft whines competing with the television’s noise.

you wanted to truly show sylus how much you appreciated all that he has done for you in the past month so you slowly pulled yourself away, gently pushing him back when his lips followed and rose to your feet. 

“stand up,” sylus rose without question, hiding his curiosity with a ‘hmph’. “take off your underwear.”

he raised an eyebrow, his ruby eyes glistened with excitement. “and what about you, kitten? don’t you think this is a little bit unfair?”

“i want to give you a show,” you tug at the hem of his black briefs, which had a wet spot marked around his erection. the more you looked at the shape of his cock, the more you realised just how big he was. you could feel both your mouth and pussy water at that sight alone.

“i think i’m the one entertaining you right now,” in a swift move, he pulled down his briefs and kicked them aside. his cock bounced free and stood so tall and proud, his tip was reddened and shining with leaky precum leaving a mess on his lower abdomen. 

“don’t be shy,” he smirked, taking your hand in his and placing it on his cock. it was so warm and so hard, you couldn’t help yourself from stroking it. sylus closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh as you pumped his cock from the base to the tip stopping to circle your finger lightly over his slit.

“h-ha, kitten, that’s- oh,” you dragged your precum glistened finger down a large vein that travelled to the base then removed your hand. still in a slight daze from your touch, sylus didn’t hear what you said.

“i’m gonna give you a little show,” you boldly repeated, grabbing his face with a hand to give him a chaste kiss, swiping your tongue briefly across his lips before he could react. you stepped back to create some distance between the two of you to give him a bit of a sight to see. 

sylus laughed and plopped himself back onto the couch, spreading his legs to give you constant access to his throbbing, twitching, leaky cock. his hand was wrapped around the shaft, slowly stroking it as translucent drops leaked from his tip. seeing him in his nude, blatant glory brought a flood of heat rush over your body and settle in your clit– which was rudely rubbing against the fabric of your underwear.

“don’t get cold feet now, sweetie,” sylus breathed, his chest beginning to heave and sweat. you’d barely gotten to do what you wanted. 

“best you be patient.” you scoffed, unclasping your bra, slowly peeling the straps down each shoulder. you turned making your back face him and peeled off your bra and tossed it towards him. 

sylus’ hands were long gone from his hard, throbbing cock to catch your bra. he set it on his thigh, resting on the couch arms spread wide intrigued to see what else you had in store for him. “continue, kitten. my patience is wearing thin.”

you slowly turned to face him again, saving your final reveal for much later. you swayed your way back to him and sat on his lap, carefully pressing his cock against his abdomen with your body. his breath hitched at the friction from your underwear rubbing against his sensitive flesh. his warm precum began to soak your panties, but not as much as your pussy was.

you held his cock against you and adjusted your positioning so that you could ride the length of him. going back and forth against him, the raw friction of fabric against sensitive skin sent sylus into a frenzy, gripping the sides of the couch as he watched you basically dry hump him when he should be deep inside you.

“kitten,” he gritted, holding back a guttural groan. you responded with a lascivious moan, almost vibrating from the stimulation from just dry riding his cock. sylus’ hands flew to your hips and lifted you up with just a fraction of his strength. his cock flew back and hit his abs with a soft plap! 

“i’m growing impatient,” he lowly whispered, his eyes slowly darkening with desire and arousal. he was in no position to play along with you anymore. he was ready to fuck you good. “so i’m going to ask you again. are you ready for us to continue?”

you ferociously nodded, holding his face in your hands engulfing him in another kiss. you invited his tongue into your mouth to explore and savour you, occasionally greeting it with your own. as you felt yourself sinking into the kiss, you felt your pantie get moved aside before a long finger slid into you. you gasped momentarily before sylus caught your lips again, swallowing your eventual moan as his finger curled inside you.

“answer the question.”

“yes, sylus, i’m ready for you,” you panted. “i’m ready.”

and with that, sylus did not hold back further. his finger pumped into your wet pussy in slow rhythm before pushing a second in. your body trembled at the feeling, tensing as his fingers pumped deeper into you whilst curling to find that special area of yours.

“so wet,” he commented, pecking kisses along your neck. “soaking through your pretty underwear just for me. imagine how much harder i’m getting just from watching you.”

you didn’t even think it was possible for that to happen. a third finger slid in right as you were about to respond, pulling a deep moan out of you. being stretched out like this was not new, but with sylus it gave a more delicious sting.

“don’t squirm, sweetie,” he purred, curving all three digits in you again. “this is necessary if you want my cock to fit in well without hurting you.”

you couldn’t say much other than nod. getting so mindless over his fingers was worrying. what would his cock feel like? 

sylus slowly removed his fingers, watching how your slick nectar connected to each one before slowly licking it off one of his fingers whilst locking his eyes on you. such an erotic tease. he rubbed his other– still slick– fingers on your lips, painting them in your wetness. you slowly opened your mouth and leaned your head forward to take his fingers in.

“fuck,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch at the sight. he pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth, watching your tongue clean him up slipping and swirling around him. he just imagined what it would be like to fuck your pretty mouth until you were drooling with his cum.

“me,”

“what?”

“fuck me, sylus.” you gave him a look of determination and need. that was all he had to hear. a loud rriiiiiip snapped you out of your daze, and a light draft fanned at your ass. 

“sylus!”

“hmm?” he smiled, pulling off your now shredded underwear from your body.

“that was my favourite set!” you pouted, even though you were heavily attracted to that move from him.

“you know i’ll get you new ones,” sylus scoffed, moving your hips to align your pussy with the tip of his cock. he knew you were on the pill. how? he accompanied you to get them and pestered you whenever you forgot. he adored you but he also cared immensely for your wellbeing.

“i love that you wore that set today,” he grinned looking up at you and pecked your nipples before gently suckling them for a few seconds. “love the red.” he paused, wanting to ask you once more for confirmation.

you nodded before he could ask. “i’m good and ready when you are– o-oh,”

his tip prodded at your entrance and was welcomed with slick warmth sucking him into you. he stopped half way in, slowly breathing to be accustomed to the feeling of your pussy clamping on his cockhead so tightly he almost came on the spot. you had let out a gasp at the feeling, clutching his shoulders with your nails.

“are you alright?” he asked. beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. you nodded. “let’s continue.”

slowly, you sank down onto him swallowing his cock, intentionally squeezing him to watch him squirm and moan from your tightness. you gently laughed, giving away your teasing which sylus quickly caught onto. he scoffed out a laugh and bucked his hips up to yours, ramming the rest of his cock into you with just a bit still outside. 

you moaned from the instantaneous move, barely recovering from it when that evil grey haired man began to thrust into you, pulling his cock in and out gradually increasing his pace. your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you tried to follow his pace, riding him to meet his hips whenever he thrusted up into you.

“oh fuck, kitten your pussy is so tight,” he moaned, pushing deeper and harder into you. your eyes crossed feeling like he reached a spot you didn’t realise existed. “must have hit your g-spot, hm? oh, baby you feel so good around me”

you could barely respond, overwhelmed by the new wave of pleasure you were receiving. hearing his sexy noises while fucking his cock into you was bringing you faster to your climax than your vibrator ever had. and all so quickly too. but it seemed he was also drawing near to cumming too.

“just– ah, fuck– so tight!” he could barely swallow his whines as your hips meet faster and harder. “that tight pussy’s about to make me cum, kitten. g-gosh fuck me– you see what you do to me?”

rendered speechless, you could only nod. and it only took a few more thorough thrusts before you spasmed all over his cock, throwing your head back as you climaxed. just seconds after, a gush of hot, cum flowed into your pussy, making you so weak in the knees you couldn’t move. sylus fuck his cum into you, moaning your name. 

despite that brief finish, you both knew you wanted more.

“again,” his voice rumbled in demand. you rasped your agreement, about to move when an idea came to your mind. 

“sylus,”

“mm.”

“let’s go to the shower.”

he looked up at you with a raised brow. “you feel dirty already? kitten, we’ve barely started.”

“no, you crow,” you smacked his large chest in irritation. “i mean, let’s continue in the shower.”

sylus momentarily paused, blankly staring at you. you always wondered what went through his mind when he did that. in that instance, he rose to his feet carrying you while his cock was still lodged in your pussy. not only that, he was still alarmingly hard despite cumming already, 

“you didn’t think i’d be done after such a small round, did you?” he grinned. “we’re just getting started.” you didn’t know whether to be afraid or dangerously aroused more than before.

you went through your bedroom to your bathroom, where sylus eventually set you to your feet. his cum began to slowly ooze out of you, travelling down your legs and painting them in the evidence of the mess that would have been made on your couch.

the bathroom began to steam slightly as the water ran. a large hand was held out for you– sylus offering it for you to join him. as you entered, your lips were immediately occupied with his, tied in a dance of need and insatiable greed that only the two of you could soothe for each other.

“you’re so perfect, sylus,” you sighed on his lips. “you’ve always been so great, such an amazing person in my life.” you kissed him again. “just want to show you how grateful i am for you.”

“you already have,” he pecked your cheeks. “just by being in my life.”

your kisses, gradually intensified as you touched each other, stimulating your needs before sylus gently moved you against the glass wall of the shower and picked you up hooking your legs over his shoulders and pressing your weight on the glass to keep you in place.

he gently lowered you back into him, instantly filling you up with his cock again. each time felt like it had gotten thicker. sylus regained proper footing on the wet tiles, slowly thrusting up into you before his pace quickened, going faster and harder until your pretty tits bounced from the sheer force of being fucked against the glass shower wall. 

and that wasn’t near how fast he planned to plough your sweet pussy. he had so much more in store for you. so much he’d been waiting to do. control was no longer a word in his vocabulary.

“ooh, just– fuck– just– just like that sy– so good!” you hiccuped, gripping onto his hair with one hand and scratching his nape with the other. 

through the fog, you could see your reflection, his back muscles flexing and shining in sweat along with the heat, his light grey hair flattened and drenched sticking to his flushed skin, his lips so tantalisingly close to your ear, huffing out praises and moans all while nibbling at your flesh.

“how are you still so tight, kitten?” he purred, pounding into you like his life depended on it. his hands tightly gripped your thighs indenting marks onto them, another sign of him marking his territory. “gonna fuck you so deep ‘n paint you with my cum.”

thrust after thrust his cock travelled deeper and deeper into you than it had earlier, pounding your weeping cunt so much that the squelches from a mixture your slick wetness and his cum became louder than the sound of your shower. sylus slowly pulled his cock back until his cockhead peeked out then slammed himself back up into you, finding that carnal spot of yours again. your eyes instantly crossed upon the impact, ripping a raw cry from deep within your throat.

“you sound like music,” he groaned, you could feel him smiling against your neck as he licked and suckled multiple rude, disrespectful bruises onto your skin. marking you as his and his alone for all of linkon and the n109 to see. “beautiful melody for just me to hear, sweetie.” he drew back and pulled out of you slowly and thrust clean into you once more before setting you down to the floor. 

you wasted no time grabbing his shoulders and pulled him into a lustful, needy kiss, engulfing him in your adoration and enticement. he occasionally nipped your lower lip, groaning at the feeling of your hand creeping down his abdomen to stroke his neglected, twitching cock. it was drenched and leaking with precum again, as if there would never be an end to how much he could stuff you and cover you with it. the warm water pelted your skin, making you hotter and more breathless as the seconds went by. 

“i’m going to give you everything you could ever want in this life,” he struggled to say whilst attempting to hold back the noises boiling deep in his chest. “my life, my heart, and my soul is yours, sweetheart.”

within an instant, you found your front pressed against the glass with your hands held behind your back. his lips grazed you ear, whispering his need for you as his warm cock circled your entrance, sliding up and down from the curve of your ass to his tip poking your aching clit.

“sylus,” you shivered, leaning back to rest on him before you lost balance– or even consciousness. you couldn’t tell how long you had been going on for anymore, and frankly you couldn’t care less. the tether between the two of you had wrapped so strongly that you couldn’t spend a second not being on each other.

“yes?” his hand gently tapped your chin so you could turn your face to him. he pecked the corner of your lip and rammed himself back into you without warning, forcing out a loud moan through your lips. those rough, and crude thrusts pounded through your tight, needy cunt, which was squeezing around his girth as much as possible. body pressed against the glass, the reflection of your fucked out face with sylus dazed and so drunk in your pussy made you clench harder.

“fuck, my– fuck,” his hips began to stutter and his cock throbbed in warning. the shower wall began to shake from the continuous impact of your bodies slamming together, clapping and squelching as if you just couldn’t be any closer. “if you squeeze again– oh, kitten, i’m going to fill you to the brim.”

he sunk his teeth deep into your flesh sending jolts of new pleasure down your spine, making you both moaning messes. his hands travelled around your body until his dominant hand settled on your abandoned clit to rub and swirl, and the other attacking your nipples– fondling and pinching them with greed to force out your most animalistic nature. your back arched helping you buck yourself into his hips, wanting to feel so much more of him, even though he had already abused your g-spot so much.

you sobbed and whined, singing praises to sylus for what he was doing to get you so horny for him. “keep fucking me like that, sy- fuck, please!” your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to hold onto him to stop yourself from collapsing. if it wasn’t his cock poking your cervix at this point, it was a sign that you were reaching your limit. “give me– can’t think– give it to me!”

neither of you could think that much, really. with you being so hypnotised and enamoured by his huge cock while he drowned and was drunk in your pussy, there wasn’t much to question. you both had a synonymous goal.

“gonna give it to you, kitten,” sylus seethed while licking your skin in ferocious lust, all he wanted and needed was to feel and taste you so he would do just that.

he felt so good inside your delectable pussy, loved how you tightened around him. he wanted to just cum on the spot, over and over and fuck you in every nook and cranny of your apartment then in each and every one of the properties he owned. he didn’t want to stop until every room you two entered was left smelling of cum and sex. who would he be to not desire such pleasure with someone as beautiful, powerful, and sexy as you?

“look at us, sweetie,” he huffed, momentarily stopping to push his cock as deeply into you as possible, completely bottoming out inside of you until all that would be seen was his balls flush against your pussy. he took long, deep, malicious strokes into you, the glass wall threatening to topple over. “look at yourself while i fuck you good, while i stuff my cock right into you.”

your eyes landed on your reflection but you couldn’t help yourself from watching him reduce you to slutty putty. making you feel like such a needy slut for his cock and his hot, thick cum.

“so pretty,” he moaned, throwing his head back. he could feel his orgasm nearing, his body was beginning to falter. “so definitely mine.” 

the perverted reflection of you fucking yourself on his cock while he simultaneously bucked into you had taken you over the edge. your eyes rolled back and your jaws loosened as your body stilled. you let out a hoarse cry as you unfolded, tightly gripping onto him as you became undone, cumming around his cock, your walls squeezing and fluttering around him causing a wave of cum to fill you alongside his thrusts. 

you were so full already that his cum leaked out your pussy in spurts, dripping down your legs and hitting the walls. another wave washed over you, and you could feel so much spurting out of you, spraying the wall and dripping down your bodies. you paused, still feeling sylus rutting his cum into you from behind. 

you squirted. and he had quickly realised it too, from how his pace quickened again. you had felt his cock grow much harder even though he already came.

“fuck, you made such a mess kitten, wanna make you do it again,” he panted, pinching his eyes shut. “gonna fuck you so good, you squirt over and over.”

you still couldn’t understand how he got so hard so quickly but your pussy wasn’t done being fucked just yet. he quickly pulled himself out, his cock slapping against his abdomen still spurting out thick globs of cum. he raised one of your legs over his shoulder and bottomed out deep into you again, with a whole new angle. you both groaned at the feeling, your pussy being stretched by the curve of his depth, creaming and fluttering on it before he could thoroughly fuck you again.

he didn’t waste another second viciously stimulating your clit with his fingers while his cock aggressively drove into you, slapping your skin against his in a quickened rhythm. it didn’t take much before your poor, soaked cunt squeezed you into another orgasm, creaming a white ring around his base. you screamed, feeling a rush of pleasure force out an intense round of your nectar going everywhere onto your abdomen and his, ultimately making you squirt for the second time tonight. 

you felt another gush of cum stuff your pussy as a whimper left sylus’ lips. you couldn’t help but love the fact that he got off just from you squirting. and that got you so much hornier, so needy to do more. but you doubted if your body was capable of handling that. you felt his cock slowly soften as you came down from your highs. he muttered something about wanting to stay inside you a bit longer, and you allowed it, also not wanting to be separated from him being in you just yet. maybe it was the aether cores keeping you attached.

moments passed as you both recovered from your orgasms, resting on each other, whispering praises, and kissed each other in dazed exhaustion. the running water rinsed away most of the cum and slick from your bodies, leaving the rest to be cleaned off once you were both ready.

“that was beautiful,” you murmured as you pulled away from his lips. sylus rested his forehead on yours, still trying to regain his breath. he reached to make the water slightly colder.

“you did so well,” he smiled. “i’m glad i was patient.”

as you began to clean each other up, as exhausted as you were, you felt satisfied. and at peace. sylus was a good ally and companion of yours but from the way things are looking now, you’re more than happy to take things much further.

a/n: I literally started playing lads a few days ago and OMG LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ITS SOO GOOD

[bejeweledinterludes]

touch starved.

OR dean winchester needs a damn hug! specifically from me, so of course i wrote about it! pretty much based off of my own headcanon that i wrote because this dean is canon— TO ME!

my masterlist

read part 2 here!

「 pairing 」 : touch starved ! dean x fem ! reader

「 word count 」 : 6.1 k (would y’all believe me when i say this started out as a drabble… faith be normal over dean winchester challenge level: IMPOSSIBLE!)

「 content / warnings 」 : late seasons soft!dean, vulnerability to da max, emotions, emotions, EMOTIONS. no smut (for once!), starts off kinda sad BUT HAS A HAPPY(ISH) ENDING I SWEAR! PLEASE PLEASE DON’T KILL ME

you have one ( 1 ) new message from the author ! ↓

AFTER CENTURIES IT’S FINALLY DONE! just saying once again thank you all so very much for 400 (+87 ?!?!?) followers! this fic is my gift to you! can’t believe over 400 of you want to see my bullshit (and unabashed horniness) on the daily but i love and appreciate every single one of ya! shoutout to my lovely mooties as well!

𖤐 ─────────────────────────

dean winchester knew he had something called a touch problem.

and he didn’t know exactly when it started, but after years and years of the only touch he received being hits, punches, the cold feel of steel from a knife or the heat from the barrel of a gun—he craved something gentle.

he needed it.

and goddamn, he was getting desperate.

at first, he usually just sought it out with one-night stands. whether it be holding their hand during it, or sticking around for longer just to lay in bed with whoever the fuck he’d met that night— that kept him at bay. that’s how he got the touch he needed.

but then he got greedy.

it had been a particularly rough hunt. you, dean, and sam were lucky to get out alive. you’d pulled into a town that had a vamp nest terrorizing its inhabitants, and when you saw the familiar hot faces of the winchester brothers at the only decent bar in a 30-mile radius, you’d decided to work together— as you’d all done a million times before.

but still, it was rough. you three each took a floor of the abandoned farmhouse— you on the highest, dean in the middle, and sam on the ground floor. you clambered down the stairs after you had finished clearing your floor, only to be met with two snarling vampires— which you quickly ganked with a schwing of your machete.

after verifying that no threats were coming your way, you started looking for dean— and the panic that flooded through your chest when you saw him crumpled over on the floor in one of the rooms almost made you freeze.

almost.

years of experience and split-second decisions snapped you out of it, immediately falling to your knees by dean’s side, turning him over on his back.

your hands were gentle but swift as you quickly flipped out the sides of his jacket, making sure there were no large gashes or wounds— and the sigh with the feeling of pure relief you let out when you realized he was just knocked out was a little more intense than you had expected it to be.

and you told yourself that was definitely normal.

right?

right.

“dean,” your hand had gone to the side of dean’s face, the other remaining on his shoulder as you shook it gently, trying not to startle him completely as you masked your worry. “come on ya lug, rise ‘n shine.”

despite your efforts, dean still woke with a start— but you caught his arm with the hand not on his face before he could do anything.

“hey— hey,” your voice was quieter, softer. because despite being one bad mother when you were hunting, your soft side came out frequently when it was needed, without fear of judgment and with absolutely no shame. it was one of the things dean wished he could do as seamlessly as you. “it’s jus’ me, alright? come on—”

you then proceeded to stand all six feet and some change of dean up with you, keeping a hand on his back and shoulders and giving him another once over when he stood over you again.

“you all good?” you murmur quietly, your hands resting on the sides of dean’s arms as you stood back, your eyes continuing to rake over him for a moment before looking up at his face— and the expression you were met with wasn’t anger, or even frustration from being knocked out.

no.

dean looked almost… sad.

you’d never been exactly ‘close’ with dean. of course you considered him a friend— for years now, but in all honesty, even that was a stretch sometimes, too. because he was a very closed off and mistrusting person.

but hell, you respected that. especially in this line of work. he did talk to you once in a while, though— on those lulls during a hunt or a case, or when he dropped some crazy lore about himself or his childhood, then going right back to his usual behaviors afterwards.

that being said, you knew dean better than he thought you did— because he didn’t have to say much for you to know what he was going through. despite what he thought, his emotions were always kinda just… written on his face.

but now, back to the farmhouse. back to the look dean had on his face right now. it was a look you saw only after he had consumed enough alcohol to kill a baby elephant, which is why it threw you off and made your usual easygoing attitude with him falter.

“dean,” you voice had gotten quieter, even softer, “w—” but before you could say or even do anything else, sam called from the floor below that it was all clear, snapping dean out of it, his expression hardening again.

in the days coming after, you didn’t ask dean to explain himself, or push about what had happened that night. you knew if he wanted to, he’d come to you about it— maybe not right away, but when he was ready.

little did you know how soon that would be.

you’d been living in the bunker for probably only a couple months at this point after the apocalypse world had opened up, and a bunch of hunters were living in the bunker too— but less than a week later after the vamp nest, both sam and dean embarked on solo hunts, sam in maine, dean in nevada. both brothers had warned you not to ‘burn the joint down’.

come on. like you would ever do that— on accident. besides, you had the bunker all to yourself.

which was fun—

for all of five minutes.

now, almost six days after sam and dean had left, you’re sitting in the library, surrounded by a scattered array of books, papers, and weapons alike on the tables in front of you— another late night of research and catching up on lore.

because there was always lore to catch up on.

you’d been lost in the words in front of you when you heard the unmistakable noise of the bunker’s door creaking open. you stiffened slightly, instincts on alert, lifting your gaze from where you were standing— but relaxed and went back to scanning the page when you realized it was just dean.

because here’s the thing: over the years, you’ve realized that it’s not a good idea to talk to dean after he’s fresh off a hunt— and especially knowing that he’s probably just drove almost or even over 24 hours straight to come home?

yeah. no way were you about to be running up to dean as he trudged down the stairs, doting on him. to your knowledge, he hated touching people, especially other people touching him.

besides, usually after a hunt, dean would just go to his room, the infirmary, or immediately hit the showers— and not look once in your direction while he did it, much less talk to you.

it hurt, but you understood that the reason he does it wasn’t exactly anything you were doing wrong— it was just what dean did.

but tonight was different.

dean was on his way to his bedroom (or actually, maybe the infirmary might be better so he could patch himself up)—

but then he saw you.

you were still stood at one of the tables, eyes scanning through books of lore you dug up from the bookshelves, illuminated by the golden lamps lining the wooden tables. god, you were pretty. even though you weren’t looking at him, he didn’t blame you. he wasn’t exactly the most cheerful after a hunt.

especially this one.

and because of that, dean’s feet were moving before he could even think twice about what he was doing.

you’d glanced up from the book you’d been completely engulfed in— and was a little surprised to find dean looking right back at you as he walked up the few steps to the library.

you opened your mouth to say something, but before you could even register what was happening, dean had already made it to you— and without warning, wrapped you in a tight embrace, slamming against you and holding you like you were the only thing that would keep him upright.

your eyes widen slightly at the feeling of dean’s arms around you before you could register the fact that he’d even crossed the threshold of the bunker— a little ‘oof’ sound escapes you completely involuntarily.

“hey,” dean let out a shaky breath against some strands of your hair and shoulder, his voice slightly raspy with…was that relief?

despite how caught off-guard you were, you don’t reject dean’s unexpected hug, though. you let your body adjust to him and your arms wrap around him too, returning the gesture right back. the faint smell of baby’s exhaust, something earthy along with the familiar scent of dean fills your lungs as your fingers ever so slightly grasp onto the back of his jacket, keeping him against you.

the muscles in dean’s shoulders relax the second your arms gently wrap around him. and oh god, he just really missed you—

“hi,” your voice is just as quiet when you greet dean in return, chin resting on his own shoulder. “how did it—”

you’re trying to ask how his hunt went, but before you finish, dean’s pulling you closer to him and squeezing the words from you. his hands slip more around your waist to hold you against him tighter, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. he just wants to feel you. you’re so warm, so soft— and goddamn, you smelled good, too. you always did. it was a little infuriating, actually.

dean knows he should probably let go, or at least respond, but he can’t find it in himself to let go yet— so instead he just holds onto you tighter. he still doesn’t respond to your unsaid question, simply standing there, holding onto you like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline.

you assumed something had happened on his hunt for dean to be acting this way— but you don’t press or force him to tell you what. you just wanted to be there for him right now.

“oh,” is what you end up softly replying with a little nod of your head against dean when he simply doesn’t answer your unfinished question. but you don’t let him go. hell no. you just pat your hand on the back of one of his shoulders, tightening your own grip on him in return. “sorry, de.”

and dean lets out a slow breath of… was that relief at your voice, at the nickname you’d had for him since the second (or was it third) hunt you’d ever worked on together? who the hell knows. he’s just so thankful you’re here, you’re hugging him, not pushing him away, you’re holding him— that you’re so close.

“no, it’s okay,” dean’s unusually soft voice, barely above a whisper, cuts through the silence.

“it— it was rough, that’s all," he mutters after a even longer while, his words tinged with a mixture of fatigue and… something else that you can't quite place.

you and dean were so close and pressed together with your combined tight grips— so much so that you swore you could almost feel his heartbeat. but it wasn’t uncomfortable. and it didn’t feel awkward. it never seemed to be with him. besides, by his (few) words, you could tell he needed this a lot more than he was letting on.

in all honesty, you were just glad dean was finally letting himself seek comfort for once in his goddamn life—

in you.

“yeah, i get it,” is what you reply with, just nodding against dean’s shoulder while tightening your own grip on him. without really thinking about it, you start to gently run one of your hands up and down his back while still wrapped up in him, palm and fingers trailing on the material of his jacket. “just glad you’re back.”

you can feel dean’s breath hitch at your touch— and for a moment, you hesitate your motions of your hand tracing along his jacket, but his grip on you unconsciously tightened, like he was clinging to you. so you continue doing it after that.

“yeah,” he murmurs, a faint huff of something like a laugh escaping him. “me too.”

and for a long while, dean just stands there wrapped up in you, his face still buried in your hair and part of your shoulder as he lets himself lean into that touch, absorbing its comfort. he grips onto the back of your shirt— and he could feel the tension start to melt away, the warmth mixed with the scent of you filling his senses and working magic on him.

dean stays quiet for several more moments, his face still buried deep in your shoulder, as if he was trying to hide himself from the outside world. his grip on you doesn’t loosen as he stands there, his body against yours. every breath he takes is deep, steady— like he’s grounding himself in this moment with you.

his words break the silence as a whisper against you after a while, the vulnerability clear in his low voice, his words almost like a confession.

“i… missed you.”

a small exhale you didn’t know you were holding releases when dean says that— and your hand falters. dean winchester, king of bottling up feelings and keeping them to himself just said he missed you. this was completely different than how he usually acted around you, but you didn’t mind.

“i missed you, too,” your own voice also quiet when you respond. it was only a few words, but you had understood what dean meant— in more ways than most would. which is why you don’t even attempt to tease him about it, replying with something between a sigh and a laugh at the realization. “like, a lot.”

dean’s grip tightens even further at your response, as if your words had a more profound impact on him than you could've ever imagined. he pulls you closer against him, the hardness of his body against yours should’ve been more uncomfortable, but it wasn’t.

there’s a moment of silence as dean just holds you, face still hidden, his chest rising and falling right against yours. each breath he takes is deeper, almost shaky, and for a moment, you can feel the slightest tremble in his grip.

his voice are soft, vulnerable in a way you’ve rarely seen from him. like he almost didn’t believe you.

“really?”

and you don’t falter your own grip for one second, despite the fact that this was completely out of character for him. you return the action, tightening your arms around dean before resuming running your hand up and down his back.

“yeah, really,” you nod against dean to confirm, letting out a soft exhale into his jacket. “i dunno, it was just… quiet here without you guys. always is.”

your words seem to soothe him— almost as much as your touch, your hug does. despite being strong both physically and mentally, dean seems to need this— and he doesn’t even really know why. he relaxes even more at your words, his body slumping against yours. it’s almost like he’s seeking every bit of comfort and warmth he can get from this— from you.

dean lets out a small, soft scoff, tinged with weary amusement. “yeah, i bet it was,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your . “must’a been like a vacation for you, huh?” there's a note of sarcasm there, like he’s trying to mask the intensity of the moment with something familiar— like he always did.

and you could have played along with dean’s attempt at lightheartedness— but honestly, you were too tired to make that effort right now. so you just shake your head a little against dean, voice much quieter than before.

“first day was nice,” you admit to dean, hands grasping the back of his jacket to keep him close to you before you close your eyes. “the rest were just…”

there’s a beat of silence as you trail off, and dean’s grip on you— if possible, tightens even further at your unfinished sentence, as if he was hanging on your every word, waiting for what you were going to say.

he lets out a small, soft breath, warm against your hair. “just... what?” he asks, his voice just as low as yours. there’s a hint of subtle unease at what you were going to say.

your arms don’t loosen when you feel dean’s grip grow just that much tighter— but you weren’t about to complain. you don’t answer right away, because the rest of your sentence was almost too embarrassing to admit.

but then again, you remind yourself: this was dean who you were talking to. he didn’t judge you for a lot of things you had once assumed he would judge you for. so you just huff out a quiet laugh into his shoulder that wasn’t really one at all— containing no humor and mostly self-deprecation.

“lonely.”

your admission hangs there between you both. it’s a simple word, but it hits dean harder than any blow he’s ever taken in a fight. because you get it. there’s a hitch in his breathing— the kind that gives away more than mere words ever could. he goes still for a moment, just letting your confession sink in, the quiet of the bunker feeling even more pronounced in that moment.

“yeah,” dean finally breaks the silence with a soft exhale against you, pulling you even tighter against him. “me, too.”

you relax a little after dean says that. it meant more than he knew. you weren’t sure how to explain it, but it felt like you and him… kind of supported each other, in a way. like the burdens you both carried separately, your own issues that you had, they seemed to be less overwhelming whenever you were even near each other. even if you and him didn’t actually know each other’s burdens.

there’s always been an understanding between you, a silent knowledge that sometimes words didn’t need to be said for the other to know what that person is thinking.

the atmosphere in the room feels different now, the silence less heavy than it was before, but the intensity and weight of the moment still weighs heavily in the air between you. it must be an interesting sight from the outside looking in— a six-foot hunter clinging onto you like you were the last thing on earth. but you didn’t mind. hell, it was comfortable.

dean’s grip on you remains just as tight— almost like he’s afraid to let go, afraid that you’ll slip away like some dream he only has once in a great while. he takes a deep breath, chest rising against you as he inhales, then exhales slowly. before he’d realized it, his fingers absentmindedly fiddle with a strand of your hair.

this level of closeness between you two was unfamiliar. of course, you’d hugged each other before and spent numerous times in close proximity—whether it be in the backseat of the impala when sam had to drive that one time or when you had to hide in a not-so-big broom closet from a wraith.

but this... this was different.

and you knew the uncomfortableness of seeking comfort better than most— but somehow, you never had an issue when you were the one who was comforting others. but still, this was new territory. you certainly hadn’t expected dean to hug you for this long tonight. truth was, you didn’t really didn’t want to let go. but you couldn’t say that to him. that would be too weird.

the library is silent, only the soft tick-tock of the old clock on the wall filling the air. there’s a vulnerability, an understanding greater than words in this moment that neither of you are used to— but strangely enough, it's also the most comfortable you’ve both felt in a long time.

and then, dean breaks the silence again— his voice so low, so quiet, that you almost miss it.

“don’t wanna let go.”

your gaze softens when dean says that— but you don’t loosen your grip on him. you weren’t sure exactly why he was so adamant on not letting go, or why he’d been hugging you like you’d almost died. but you don’t ask questions.

besides, dean’s been more vulnerable with you tonight than i’d ever seen or heard in all the years you’d known him. and when he admitted that? you knew you had to be there for him, in whatever way he wanted. so when you reply back, your words are just as quiet as his.

“well, you don’t have to.”

the words feel like a weight being lifted off dean’s shoulders. he clings to you even tighter, burying his face even deeper into your shoulder, like he was ashamed. he doesn’t say anything for a moment— instead, just taking deep breaths. because he’s struggling to keep his emotions intact.

finally, he mumbles into you again, his words muffled by your shirt.

“you promise?”

“yeah,” you echo back quietly, nodding your head against dean’s buried into you. “promise. we can stay like this as long as you want to.”

there’s no malice hidden in your words, or any hint of teasing— because it was nothing but the truth. you’d stay with dean for as long as he wanted you to. and you bury your face a little more into him when he does the same to your shoulder.

there’s another long moment of silence as dean holds onto you, his face still buried in your shoulder. normally, he’d be making some smartass comment by now, acting like his usual self— but he can't seem to find the words. or the energy.

dean huffs softly against your shoulder after a moment— the closest thing to one of his usual snarky remarks. but there’s a hint of hesitation in his voice when he speaks.

“what if i wanted to… all night?”

you’d half been expecting dean to brush off your words with a joke or at least something, but the tone of hesitation told you that he was being anything but that. you hesitate, but ultimately lift your head off of his shoulder— you don’t pull away fully, though.

and dean’s body visibly tenses when you pause and pull away slightly to look at him, and he’s almost immediately on the defensive— but relaxes a little when you don’t go far.

your gaze silently searches dean’s as you scrunch your eyebrows slightly. you knew that what he’d just asked you for was… different. and you didn’t have to ask him for clarification. you knew what he meant, why he was so hesitant. because this wasn’t going to be just hugging him anymore.

this would be all night.

and there’s a vulnerable look in his eyes when he lets his guard down just enough as you let your gaze linger on him. dean almost looks like a wounded dog right now, the exhaustion, the weariness making him drop his typical persona in favor of honesty— maybe even desperation, just this once.

from that look on dean’s face, he was not kidding about what he asked. the expression he had was one you hadn’t seen this intensely in a long time. you knew he wasn’t one to just ask something like this, either. not unless he needed it.

the thought of being so close to dean all night makes you a little nervous, but not as much to outright say no. so keeping his gaze, your voice is just as quiet as his was when you nod, breaking the silence of the library once again.

“then i’d say ‘get your pj’s on’.”

the way dean’s body relaxes in relief at your words is almost overwhelming. he’s still staring right into your eyes, the vulnerability almost raw. he manages to nod, searching your gaze. he’d been expecting a boatload of teasing with a side of humiliation— but he’d been proved wrong.

“yeah?” he almost whispers as he holds your gaze, eyes searching yours like he’s trying to read your mind. like he’s unable to determine if this is real. if you’re real.

“yeah,” you nod in return, a pang of warmth hitting you again as you look at dean right back. you’re both still standing so close together— and the air felt different, thicker when you take another breath. “s’long as you don’t kick me.”

dean appreciated the break in seriousness, more than you would ever know. something resembling a smile tugs on the corner of his mouth, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“no promises,” he murmurs back, something softer in his gaze as his eyes continue to rake over your face. “but i’ll try.”

“good,” you nod a little again, your own smile tugging on your face as your hands almost absentmindedly trail on dean’s arms— and his eyes literally almost flutter shut at the contact. “and you’re comin’ to my room. and you’re showering.”

dean raises an eyebrow and tries to ignore the warmth that stirred in his chest when you said that all authoritative-like— he swallows before he talks again.

“yes, ma’am.”

. • . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . 𖤐

dean knocked on your door before he entered your room not twenty minutes later— don’t ask him, but he showered faster than he ever did in his entire life. he wasn’t too keen on the why.

your head perked up from your pillows when you heard the knock, already under your blankets and— well, let’s be honest here: waiting for him you’d even already moved to the left side of your bed, so dean would have a spot.

a stupid, small part of you had doubts that dean would actually ultimately show up, but it was a little embarrassing how much relief you felt when you call out a soft “yeah”, signaling him to come in.

dean stepped into your room, the only light being from your barley-lit desk lamp. it doubled as a night light, so you didn’t trip over yourself after a midnight snack break.

dean might as well have been in heaven. or something pretty damn close.

of course, he’s been in your room before— but this felt much different than all the other times. because he was going to be sleeping here tonight.

everything felt heightened, more intense— but as dean shut your door, he also had an almost overwhelming sense of comfort. of home. like this is where he was supposed to be this entire time. he pushed those recurring thoughts and feelings he always felt when he was around you, but without first reminding himself that you had agreed to do this. the thought alone was almost enough to make dean’s heart do that thing it always did whenever he was around you.

he’d been lost in his own thoughts, barely even registering the fact that he’d made it to the edge of your bed. your bed. not his, not some old, dingy motel’s. it almost made him chicken out. until—

“as much as i’d like to see you stand there all night, i think you should probably lay down.”

there it was. your incomparable capability to snap dean out of his head, back to reality. he didn’t know how you did it— and to be honest, you didn’t really know, either. but you always could, even giving sam a run for his money.

dean doesn’t hesitate again. you’d already peeled back your covers for him, so he just lifted them up and got under them. like he belonged. as if he’d done so a million times before. 

your bed, your sheets, your pillows— it was warm. and it smelled like you, tenfold. an equal blend of your fabric softener that only you used because dean said the teddy bear on the bottle looked at him weird and your shampoo that was way too expensive and you had to go to a separate store for. 

dean knew you smelled good, that was no debate— but this was like he was wrapped in it. like he’d been earlier when he hugged you. and so close to how he’d always wanted to be wrapped up in you. yet he knew that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

besides, when was the last time dean winchester got what he wanted?

the answer?

right now.

your eyes hadn’t left dean’s figure when he finally lays down next to you, both now facing each other— it was strange actually seeing him in your bed after years of restless nights wishing he was.

and you could smell him, too— the faint scent of the soap you’d gotten him for his birthday, along with the tea tree shampoo sam kept hidden in the back medicine cabinet (but not well enough, apparently). you decided right then and there that the pillow dean’s head was currently resting on was the one you were going to sleep on after tonight, just so you could smell him after he was gone.

“how you wanna do this?”

dean’s uncharacteristically soft voice broke your thoughts, and you met his eyes when he spoke. his expression looked softer, too— almost hesitant. like he was uncertain. it was a look you rarely ever saw on his face. to see it now, in this way, was bittersweet. then it clicked. 

he was nervous.

“however you want to,” is what you reply with, voice just as quiet as his. you reminded yourself that dean had asked for this. in your mind, it was only fair that he get a say. “whatever you need.”

whatever you need. well, dean needed to kiss you silly if it was the last thing he did, but not tonight. not here. he wouldn’t be able to take it if you rejected him in that way. 

but he had to take some sort of risk right now. he couldn’t deny himself of it— of you any longer.

so before dean can talk himself out of it, he wraps an arm around you, closing the remaining distance— and to your surprise, he buries his head right into your chest, nuzzling against your shirt.

your breath hitches, and you hope to god that he didn’t hear that. but you don’t reject him. you just wrap your own arms around him, accepting him and his touch just as you had done earlier in the library. 

dean would’ve made some joke about basically burrowing his face into your boobs. he didn’t really mean to— but his eyes had fluttered shut already, because you letting him, and you were warm, and you smelled good, and you were so soft.

he’d always loved that about you. from a distance, of course. it didn’t matter how many hardships you’d gone through; you were soft in every sense of the word, both physically and emotionally. and once when he’d taken a shower in your bathroom since sam was hogging the main one in the bunker, the whole damn place smelled like you. he found himself wanting to drown in it.

and hell. he wouldn’t even complain.

your free hand went into his hair at some point, and it took everything in him not to let out a noise. dean sighed a little into your shirt, his breath warm on your chest— he finally let himself relax. go slack.

and he was so grateful that you didn’t tease him, or point out the fact that all six feet and one inch of him was in your grasp and snuggling into you like some damn koala. like a little kid who had a bad dream. but then again, his life felt like a never-ending bad dream most of the time.

you were his one exception to that.

not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

you weren’t sure how long you both stayed like that, wrapped up in each other before dean breaks the warm blanket of silence— it could’ve been hours or seconds. but his voice is so low, so soft, you almost didn’t hear it.

“thanks.”

the word was spoken against you, dean still remaining unmoving. he didn’t necessarily think himself as weak at the moment, even though he thought he should— and he dared not to say it out loud, knowing that you’d immediately shoot his insecurities down. 

but dean was finally letting himself get comfort. warmth.

something he’d had for a fleeting moment, then lost. something he had deemed too precious for a man as ragged and as sinful as him a long time ago. he didn’t deserve this. you.

he’d never be one to just take something like this, to ask this of you, without any regard for how you felt. but you showed— all you ever showed to him was the love he thought he’d never receive. the love he’d given so much away, but it never got returned back to him.

because you made him feel like he actually meant something. like he was the hero people he’d saved described him as. like he wasn’t some piece on a chessboard, a punchline in someone’s story, a puppet on a string, or a cog in some eternal machine. 

truth was? the big secret?

you made him feel normal. human. 

it was almost overwhelming, how safe, comfortable he felt right now. the last time he felt this safe, he’d been a child. the last time he felt this comfortable in himself— damn. it was before hell.

when it was just monsters of the week, the only big goal being finding his dad. staying at bobby’s. you had visited that summer. he can still remember your laugh echoing off of the wallpaper and the piles of books. it was before demons.

and the only angel he saw daily was you.

it was in the way the light shone in through the stained glass of one of bobby’s kitchen windows and hit your face, you making him coffee without being asked. when you smiled at him just because.

you treated him like a real friend. like family. like an equal.

sometimes, when everything in his head was too loud, dean missed it. when the only thought of lucifer he had was when he saw the cartoon on the bottle of the devil’s hot sauce at that barbeque place in texas. when everyone he loved and cared about was still alive. when the world wasn’t ending. when you kissed his cheek after not seeing him for a while.

you still did that last one, though.

“anytime, de.”

dean had flinched a little, but didn’t open his eyes after you replied—he had been too lost in the comfort. in you. he could die right now instead of sleeping, and honestly? it’d be a good way to go out. he’d prefer it over going down swinging any day, he decided. 

dean got most of what he wanted tonight. maybe someday he’d get it all. but for now, he’d just dream of it, like he always did.

the only difference?

he was actually in your arms this time.

───────────────────────── 𖤐

you have one ( 1 ) more new message from the author ! ↓

i know i said it already, but i need to hold this man so so so BADDDDD 💔💔💔 he deserves everything and more like that’s my shayla ☹️ my baby my world my everything (he’s a murderer and monsters fear him)

my master taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @bittersweetfig @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine @starzify @velvetparkerx @eggggggggggggggggggggsblog @fuckedupfate @liiiilsss @angelblqde @vmiina @mahi-wayy @viarasvogue @tinas111 @0ccvltism + if i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know! <3

[spatialwave]

keys & knives

pairing: namgyu x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

ask: “I wanted to know if you could write a Nam-gyu x reader in the 4th game where the reader is on blue team and Nam-gyu is on the red”

tags: nsfw, minimal smut, mentions of drug use, blood/violence, predator/prey, namgyu is psychotic as hell but very down bad for you lol, dark themes, no use of y/n, triggering content below the cut.

notes: thanks for sending this ask! the 4th game was so intense i’ve actually been itching to write some of the cat/mouse scenarios that come with it! not very smutty but if ppl like it i could be convinced to write a part 2 lol

part two ->

How you made it this far was beyond you. You were running on pure adrenaline, every morning waking up with maybe three hours of sleep under your belt and a hungry, aching stomach. You’d ditched most of your food in the evenings, unable to eat from the anxiety that flooded your veins and contracted your stomach into horrible cramps.

Every waking minute left you terrified, looking around at the remaining survivors and afraid anytime you thought about the night the lights went out. The night when you watched many like-minded participants murdered in cold blood by those who voted to continue the games.

By now, you were weary of everyone. You’d found yourself once in Thanos’ gang in the earlier rounds, but that had gone to shit. There were only three of you left—Minsu, Namgyu and you. 

You’d avoided each other since that night. 

You watched from a careful distance as Namgyu babied Thanos’ necklace, dipping into the pills inside. You watched as Minsu hid away from both of you, both terrified and guilt-ridden of his lack of action that night. You decided to stay away. 

Nothing good could come from interacting with either of them. 

That was, until game four happened.

As you stood in the room before the games, a blue ball in your hand—you looked over and saw both Namgyu and Minsu on the opposite side of the room. Your heart stopped as the rules were announced. Watching in horror as you were given a measly rounded key, and each member of the red team was given a knife. Bullshit.

Your eyes landed on Namgyu, watching as he admired the knife. Seeing the bright red blood pool from his finger as he tested the sharpness of the blade. He tongued the blood, licking it clean as he looked over his shoulder, and those sharp, fox-like eyes landed right on you.

Your blood ran cold, muscles tensing as a wicked smile grew on his lips. Namgyu waved the blade, giggling like a crazed psycho.

You knew you weren’t his favourite—not after you voted to end the games. If Semi hadn’t died by his hands that night, it would’ve been you. You were sure of it.

To think, at one point, you’d had feelings for him. Well, ‘feelings’ was an egregious descriptor. The night after the pentathlon, you found yourself in his bunk when you couldn’t sleep, your mouth on his and quietly stifling whimpers as his hands pushed past your sweats. His words had been so sickeningly sweet, easing you into a night of pleasure that you hadn’t experienced in so long. He kissed you so tenderly, fingers plunging deep inside of you and curling to hit that perfect spot until you saw stars.

With red cheeks, you looked away from him and ahead at the guards. 

Game start.

The blue team filtered through the doors first, given a headstart to find their way to the exit. You hadn’t expected a maze, with various hallways, dead ends, and so much repetition that you’d begun to get dizzy. Your anxiety had started spiralling, especially when the red team was let in..

Only five minutes in, you heard the sounds of distant screaming as the red team preyed on the blue team.

“Shit,” you whimpered under your breath as you stumbled upon a closed door. You could hear distant footsteps, heavy as if chasing. With fidgety fingers, you managed to unlock the door and slip into the room that was painted brightly like a child’s daycare room. Quietly, you closed the door behind you and listened to the footsteps walk past, and your attention drifted around the room as you took it in. 

Then, you saw the other door.

You perked up, rushing towards it only for your key to not budge into its slot—a square?

Everyone had different keys.

After a couple of more minutes, you peeked your head out of the door. You looked both ways, knowing you’d need to be sneaky. Slipping out of the door, you quietly tiptoed down the hall, flinching anytime you heard a distant yelp or shout.

You were quiet, so quiet. You had managed to find the body of another blue player, their necklace hanging loose around their neck and bloodied—a square. With shaky handywork, you removed it and strung it around your neck and turned to face the opposite direction. All you needed was to retrace your steps and head back to the room you’d found. Surely a room with more doors was a good sign.

Carefully, you padded and made it to the end of the hall and turned right.

That’s when your eyes landed on him. Blood coating his face and vest. A wild, distant look in his eyes.

“You,” Namgyu spoke, a sickeningly sweet smile spreading on his lips as he pointed the knife in your direction. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he continued, stepping forward and scraping the sharp end of the knife against the wall as you backed up.

Your back hit the wall behind you, the scraping of the knife sending chills up your spine and making your head hurt.

“You’re such a rat. You hide so well!” He laughed, a sound you almost didn’t recognize. With how dark his eyes were, you couldn’t see—but you were certain his pupils were fully blown out. It was how Thanos’ were in those first few games he played.

His footsteps were light as he walked towards you, and it wasn’t until that moment that you understood the genuine fear of being preyed upon. You couldn’t recognize the crazed man he’d become, and your heart sank deep into the pit of your stomach. For a few moments, you accepted death, feeling the cold wall behind you. You wondered if maybe this was a good thing, that you could finally escape this hellscape.

It was the sound of a blood-curdling scream that brought you back to reality, and you ran.

Pushing yourself from the wall, you used it as leverage to sprint down the hallway to your left, and you could hear the sounds of him yelling out your name from a distance. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, not when he was as high as he was. He had more stamina, and you were far more clumsy and tripping anytime you turned a sharp corner.

It wasn’t until you felt your lungs beginning to burn that you found an open door to your right. It took everything to hold your breath and remain hidden as you slipped inside and closed the door just enough to cover you from the hallway. You felt like you were going to pass out, needing to heave and breathe, but you kept your hand tight over your mouth and nose.

Footsteps neared, slowing. You hid further to the wall, hoping that if he opened the door, you’d be hidden perfectly behind it.

You could fight him off if he found you. You could kick him between his legs or his stomach and make a run for it. As your mind ran rampant with ideas of how to protect yourself, you weren’t ready for what you saw. A stranger. A player you hadn’t recognized, likely within Player 100’s gang.

You froze, eyes wide and watching as he stepped into the room and turned to look behind the door, noticing you.

In a second, you attempted to sprint past, but he grabbed your jacket and threw you back into the room. You crashed against the floor, gasping as the wind was knocked from your chest.

“I thought I was going to fucking die,” the man breathed, thankful to have run into you. “You sneaky thing. Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.”

You looked up at him as he stepped towards you, his hand tightening around his knife. You kicked your legs a few times, a futile attempt as he kicked them aside, and you winced at the rough hit. 

You saw him bend forward and swing, and you covered your face with your arms to protect whatever you could, but the pain from the blade never came. All you heard was the sound of struggling and huffing, then the door slamming shut. The door banged a few times, and it felt too good to be true. 

You were saved.

You dropped your arms and looked to see you’re saviour, sitting up slightly—then you paled. 

Namgyu had his back pressed to the door, feet firm on the ground, as the man who had tried to kill you attempted to push into the room. You shook your head, scrambling back until your head hit the wall and you felt momentarily dizzy.

“Please, don’t—” you murmured, all you could say.

Namgyu crinkled his nose, turning his head to the door, “She’s mine!” He hissed. And just like that, his prayers were answered as the forceful shoves of his teammate ceased, and instead, you both heard a woman’s scream and retreating footsteps.

His eyes returned to you, and you shook your head.

Your mouth had gone dry; you wanted this to end, but not from him, not like this. You wanted to go back home, back to your dingy little apartment. Your safety net where you could gamble all your money away and smoke all the weed you could until everything was numb. Your old life was better than this. You could suffer more if it meant getting away from his hellscape.

“You…” Namgyu chuckled, stepping away from the door. The hand that held the knife fell to his side, and the other pushed back over his face, then his hair, smearing the fresh blood over his skin. “You scared me.”

Puzzled, you stared at him in silence. He was erratic, and you didn’t want to upset him.

Slowly, he bent his knees into a kneeling position, elbows on his knees and hands hanging loose. His head cocked to the side, “Stop running and hiding. I’m tired of chasing you.”

“Go away,” you mumbled, fingers pressing harder into the floor beside you. “Please, just let me go. Namgyu, please—”

“That’s what I like about you,” he grinned, using the knife to point at you again, “You always say it right. You never treated me like I was worse than you.”

And why would you? Out of these games, you were sure you and Namgyu were alike. Running through different paths of addiction and debt. All of you were. There was no sense in pretending like anyone was better.

You perked up slightly.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Namgyu’s eyes flickered down to the blade in his hands, corners of his lips curling. He looked at you and narrowed his eyes. 

“You don’t want me to? I’ve killed three people already… four would just mean there’s more money for us who want to keep playing.” He said, eyeing you up. His voice was unwavering and a bit giddy. He was enjoying this.

Slowly, you shifted until you rose to your feet, unsteady in your movements and swaying. He followed, standing back up. You both stared at each other, and you weren’t sure if he was going to kill you or not. You wondered if maybe—just maybe—you could talk your way out of this. Feed into what he wanted to hear.

At the same time, you weren’t sure if you could. Not with that crazy look in his eyes.

The timing of this game was your saviour, though. The sound of another scream caused Namgyu to look over his shoulder, noticing the door slightly ajar as the sound reverberated in. It was your only chance; you had a brief moment in time where this could work.

You took it.

With quick steps, you shot forward and used all the strength you could muster to shove Namgyu to the side. He stumbled over his feet, but he hadn’t fallen like you hoped. Still, you went for the door. It was your only escape.

Fingers curled into your hair, and you cursed yourself for not having it pinned away like others had. You had grabbed the door knob, opening the door, but it was no use when Namgyu kicked it shut and slammed you against it.

You gasped, wincing in pain as your front hit the door. He stood behind you, pressed against you, and held the knife to the skin of your jaw.

“You’re easy to rile up,” he whispered, his breath against your ear. Warm and ticklish. The knife pressed against your skin hard, almost breaking it and drawing blood until he pulled back. “You’re too pretty to cut up,” he murmured, inhaling your scent as his teeth grazed the shell of your ear.

“Namgyu,” you whined, hands pressing between your chest and the door. Your nails scratched at the wood, itching to escape.

“If I wanted you dead I would’ve let that asshole kill you,” he whispered, and it sent a chill down your spine. “I wanted to make sure no one else got you first.”

You didn’t answer.

The sound of clattering caught your attention, and you looked down at the knife on the floor, bloodied. You looked back up, over your shoulder and saw Namgyu. You saw that sweet smile on his face. You were so close that you finally saw the blown pupils under the harsh lighting of the room.

You wondered if it was the drugs. That tomorrow he’d wake up, and in the next game, you’d be running from him again because he wasn’t in his right mind now. As much you wanted to get away from the insanity of the games and forget it all happened… somehow—in some fucked up way—you believed him.

“Why me?” You asked quietly, your voice nothing higher than a soft squeak.

“Because I can’t close my eyes without seeing your face all fucked out,” he huffed, two bloody hands grabbing at your hips. “I need to see it again. I want to hear you say my name while I fuck you. I need it bad.”

Your entire brain scrambled as he spoke to you, like he was begging. He whimpered into your ear, rutting against your ass pathetically and you were almost sure it was the drugs making him feel this way, but the heat growing between your thighs was unbearable.

“Fuck,” you whimpered under your breath, a soft sound escaping your throat as one of his hands pushed up under your shirt and the other into your sweats. Your toes curled into your shoes, and you gave in.

You were sure that this was going to bite you in the ass—that trusting anyone else this far into the games was a bad idea. Yet, his hands were so missed on our body.

You were just as fucked up as he was, even without the drugs.

part two! ->

[elliotsgrl]

somebody's watching me ♡

pairing: jinu x f! reader

synopsis: the sexual tension between you and jinu finally snaps in the bathroom of a nightclub.

warnings: smut, possessive! jinu, tiny bit of toxic! jinu (sorry), degradation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, overstimulation, forced creampie; read responsibly!! (PLEASE stay safe. wrap it before you tap it!) will proofread later lol

a/n: i'm SOOO down bad for jinu it's insane... i would give up my soul so quick (and my virginity) i got carried away at the end cause i'm currently ovulating ok bye

thank you to @angelltheninth for originally writing the idea i had commented under their post! this is just my own spin on it :)

divider creds: @anitalenia

ever since you and the huntrix girls had seen the saja boys perform soda pop, things felt... weird. not only were these boys secretly demons in human form, but you had felt yourself being weirdly drawn to the group's leader, jinu. maybe it was their demon charm? this must have been the same way they got so many fangirls and fanboys gushing over them.

you were even more weirded out when you felt jinu's gaze focused on you after they finished performing their song. for your own good, you chose to ignore the chills that went down your spine and how hot your body was getting from his intense stare. you knew getting involved with a demon of all people would never end well. he could devour your soul at any moment, for fuck's sake!

nightfall had arrived, and the girls had come to a consensus that they would like to let loose at a nightclub. this nightclub was highly exclusive, which meant you would not have to worry about getting bombarded by crazed fans. you were all getting ready at rumi's place so you could leave together.

you had put on one of the hottest outfits that you had in your closet, pairing it with platform heels to give your outfit an even sexier vibe. you felt like you needed to change things up a bit and do something out of the ordinary for once. mira and zoey were usually the crazy ones, but you decided to join them in their craziness this time.

before leaving, you had taken some pictures of you and the girls as well as taking solo pictures to post on your story on your secret spam page on instagram. it was public, but only a certain amount of people knew about it. you liked it that way. you had posted a picture of yourself on your story, adding the song i wish you roses by kali uchis with the caption "goin to (clubname) <3", while trailing behind the girls who were already by the door to get to rumi's personal driver waiting outside.

you all got in the car, with rumi in the passenger's seat. you, zoey, and mira were in the back seat, talking amongst each other as the driver made his way to the nightclub. even though you ignored how you felt earlier because of the way jinu was looking at you, you still felt like you could talk to them about it, but you were going to make sure you would conveniently leave that part out.

zoey was right next to you, laughing at something silly that mira said. you lightly thwacked zoey's shoulder, snapping her out of it.

"hey, what the heck was that for?!" zoey whined, grabbing her shoulder. mira looked over at you, while rumi turned around to see what was going on.

"you'll be fine, zo. i had to get your attention somehow-" you shrugged, making mira stifle a laugh.

"anywho, was it just me or is there something really off about the saja boys, i mean, other than the fact that they're demons, of course..."

the girls were silent, staring at you like you were some kind of conspiracy theorist. "guys, hear me out. did you guys not see jinu staring at me very oddly after they were done performing soda pop?!" zoey pretended to think, while mira scratched her head, and rumi was looking around like she was being pranked.

"i was too busy staring at abby to even notice what jinu was doing, to be honest with you." zoey chimed. "those abs..." zoey began to drool, reminiscing what abby looked like when his shirt popped open. right then and there you gathered that zoey would be no help.

"i don't understand, what do you mean he was staring at you "very oddly"?" mira asked, with her eyebrow raised. she looked very confused with what you were saying.

"what i mean, is, he was staring at me like he wanted to devour my soul! how did you guys not notice this?!" you felt like you were going insane. rumi had broken her silence by letting out a quiet chuckle. "y/n, do you have a crush on this guy or something? because we're all so lost trying to understand you.."

you felt your cheeks heat up. there is NO way you have a crush on that demon!! although you have to admit he is very attractive. not to the girls, obviously. you did not want to give them another reason to tease you further.

"what?! no!!! why would i have a crush on the enemy??? you know what, forget it." you let out a long sigh. there was a short pause before the girls mumbled a quick "okay.." and resumed what they were doing.

you opened up instagram, switching to your secret account. you enjoyed the little community you had built. it felt authentic, interacting with your mutuals during your free time. your story had already been getting likes and comments. as you were mindlessly scrolling through the viewers, a username you were unfamiliar with was at the bottom.

who the heck is j63249? you thought.

you furrowed your brows, clicking on the username. the profile had zero followers, and was not following anyone. you assumed it was just a random instagram user who happened to stumble across your page. you brushed it off, closing out of the instagram app and leaned your head on the car window for the rest of the ride.

mira's driver had finally made it to the club. you all stepped out of the car, heading into the club's entrance. mira's driver honked as he drove off.

the loud bass of the music could be felt through your whole body as you held mira's hand to make your way through the crowd. you and the girls were headed to the bar to have a few drinks to get buzzed, and would be going to the dance floor afterwards.

as you were sipping on your drink at the bar and laughing with the girls, you felt something. you felt like someone had been staring at you. you slowly turned around to where the crowd was, and you saw nothing. everyone seemed to be engrossed in whatever they were doing. people dancing, couples making out, but no one was staring at you. so, what was that presence you felt?

you refused to let whatever that nagging stare was ruin your night. you had dragged the girls to the dance floor when your favorite song came on, singing the lyrics word for word and dancing on rumi. despite all the fun you were having, that uncomfortable feeling of being watched never went away. it was starting to drive you nuts. you needed to escape. and quickly.

you yelled into rumi's ear, "i'm going to the bathroom, i'll be right back!" rumi nodded, giving your hand a quick squeeze. you slithered past zoey and mira to leave the crowd. you laughed to yourself seeing their dance moves. after leaving the crowd, you had let out a breath you did not even realize you were holding.

you quickly scurried into the private bathroom, locking the door behind you. you stared at yourself in the mirror, grabbing onto the sink. "am i losing my fucking mind?" you muttered to yourself. a figure had appeared from a purple mist behind you, making you shriek loudly.

you could not believe what you were seeing right now. the figure was jinu, smirking at your reflection. you scowled back at him in the mirror and began to stomp towards the exit. as you reached for the doorknob, a sudden force pulled you back, leading you straight into jinu's arms and leaving zero space between the two of you.

"not so fast, little human." jinu's voice sounded like velvet. you wondered what he wanted with you. no matter, you had to find a way to get out of here, far away from him. this was not the time to be fraternizing with the enemy. you tried to slap him to get him to release you from his hold but he effortlessly grabbed your wrist, leading you to let out a gasp.

"what the hell do you want from me?" you questioned, struggling in his grip. jinu's eyes slowly traveled down to your outfit then back up at you. was he seriously checking you out right now? you felt so naked and exposed.

"cute outfit." jinu chuckled darkly, tilting his head.

"but i don't like anyone else seeing what's mine." jinu wore an angry expression on his face. his eyes flashed yellow, and you were starting to get more freaked out by the second.

you scoffed. "have you gone mad? i do not belong to you!” you paused, furrowing your brows in confusion. "wait... how did you even know we would be here?"

"you crazy demon stalker! let go of me! ugh!" you attempted to get out of his grip once more. your bodies pressing together was starting to make you feel things that you shouldn't be.

"i don't think so, darling." jinu smirked. "you weren't exactly discreet about your whereabouts on your instagram..." jinu said, in a condescending tone. you looked at him dumbfounded, connecting the dots. he was the one who had been watching you in the club like a hawk.

"so, it was you creeping on my page. i didn't realize there was a wi-fi connection in the depths of hell." you spat. jinu looked at you with amusement.

"and why the fuck were you watching me so hard? do you not realize how creepy and weird that is? i guess you wouldn't, since you're a demon." jinu's expression soured for a quick moment. you bit back a smirk, knowing you had successfully gotten under his skin.

"you think you're funny, hm?"

"i had to make sure no one touched what is rightfully mine." jinu released your wrist, trailing his long finger down your arm. this immediately gave you goosebumps, which did not go unnoticed by jinu.

"and what makes you so sure that i'm yours?" you stared at jinu with a skeptical look, as the gap between your faces was beginning to get smaller.

jinu leaned down into your ear, speaking softly. "i know you feel it too, y/n, you don't have to keep resisting me." jinu grabbed your waist so you couldn't run away again. he left a soft kiss on your ear, with his lips trailing down the side of your neck. he was leaving wet kisses on your neck. you were using all of your willpower to stop yourself from moaning.

of course you felt it too. but this was not supposed to be happening. what would the girls think if they knew what was going on right now? getting handsy with your sworn enemy? you couldn't. you had to end this.

"jinu- stop it." you gripped his hair in an unsuccessful attempt to pry him away from your neck. instead, he bit on your neck, leading you to let out a loud moan.

"are you sure you want me to stop?" jinu resumed his wet kisses on your neck, gripping your waist harder. he moved his kisses up to your jaw, then pulled away so that you were face to face now.

"i do, now let go of me. we shouldn't be doing this." you said, putting your hands on his shoulders to push him away from you. before you could push him away, he placed his lips on yours. you had kissed him back, but you quickly used all of your strength to pull him away from your lips, leaving the both of you breathing heavily.

you were conflicted, wondering how something so bad for you could also be good for you at the same time. fuck it, you thought.

you gave into your desires, grabbing his shirt to pull him back into a heated kiss. you were both moaning and jinu used the opportunity to put his tongue in your mouth, swirling his tongue with yours as you kissed each other roughly. jinu lifted you up into his arms, with you wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. he placed you on the bathroom counter, getting in between your legs as you continued making out.

jinu pulled away from you, a string of saliva connecting your lips while he pulled the straps of your dress down to reveal your breasts. your nipples were already hard and standing at attention. jinu flicked both nipples, making your body twitch. an erotic gasp came from your mouth when he leaned down to suck one of the hard buds, pinching the other nipple. you gripped onto his hair, biting your lip.

jinu's hand left your nipple and trailed down your thighs, spreading them open. he ran a finger over your clothed clit, groaning on your nipple after feeling your wetness. he let go of your nipple to face you, a cocky grin on his face. “i wonder who got you this wet.”

you were not going to give him the satisfaction. instead, you muttered “shut up,” as you pulled his face back to yours. you sucked on his bottom lip before going back to explore each other’s mouths. jinu raised the fabric of your dress up to get better access to your aching cunt. he pulled your underwear down your leg, and you assisted him in kicking them off.

jinu rubbed his index and middle fingers around your opening, gathering your slick on his fingers. he slowly put his middle finger inside you, making you break the kiss and dig your nails into his shoulders, moaning desperately.

he moved his finger in and out of you, slowly. he watched you to see your reaction to his one finger opening you up. "you're so fucking tight. i don't think you'll be able to take my dick, honey." jinu's finger in you moved faster. you threw your head back against the mirror, whimpering pathetically.

jinu grabbed your throat to get you to face him. "it'll fit," you choked out, barely able to utter a sentence. "more..." you chanted, wanting his fingers to stuff you full before the real thing.

jinu added his index finger to your sopping hole, your cunt was squelching from how wet you were. jinu curled his fingers inside you and used his thumb to rub on your clit, sending you into overdrive. you were grinding your hips into his fingers, chasing the release that would soon be around the corner.

"you like it when i fuck your slutty pussy with my fingers, baby?" jinu questioned. you nodded, breathing heavily. he was not happy with your response. he let go of your throat to give you a light tap on your cheek, scolding you.

"ah, ah, ah. use your words, sweetie." he demanded, his hand wrapping itself back around your throat. "yes, i love it, i love it so much. please don't stop," you begged, grabbing onto his arm that was choking you.

jinu smirked triumphantly at your compliance. "that's a good girl." he looked down at his soaked fingers sliding in and out of you. the thought of getting your wetness all over him made his dick twitch in his pants.

"jinu- i'm close-" you panted out, your breathing was getting heavier and heavier as you felt that familiar build up about to reach it's breaking point.

"you gonna cum on my fingers, love? cum for me."

your orgasm washed over you not long after jinu coaxed your release. you had your mouth wide open in an "o" shape as your legs started to shake uncontrollably, arching your back against the mirror as he helped you ride out your high. you had never come that hard before, even by yourself. you leaned back, letting out a sigh as jinu released his grip on your throat.

jinu slowly pulled his fingers out of you, putting his fingers in his mouth to taste your cum. he groaned, cleaning up the mess you made on his fingers while savoring your sweet taste. "you taste divine, love." he grabbed your chin, putting his mouth on yours to let you taste yourself on his tongue.

you reached in between you to rub on his bulge through his pants, making him growl in your mouth. the kiss got more desperate, as jinu grabbed your breasts and you hastily unbuckled his belt. he broke the kiss to unbutton his jeans, pulling his big dick out of his briefs. his dick was huge, veiny, and pre cum was leaking out of the tip. you let out a quiet gasp. your cunt throbbed at the sight. was that really going to go inside you?

he spread your thighs wider, slapping his fat tip against your clit, making you whine. he rubbed his girthy length all over your lips, mixing his pre cum with your slick. he hissed as he put the tip inside your tight hole. you let out a sharp moan and pushed him back out. jinu grabbed your wrist, pinning it up to the mirror.

"uhn uhn, you said it could fit, remember?"

"it's too big- mmph!" you squealed, feeling jinu push his thick length deeper into you. he was stretching your tight cunt out to the limit, and it hurt so good.

jinu pushed more and more of his thick dick into you, making you cry out with every inch that made it's way into your snug walls. when he finally got all of him inside you, he wore an evil grin on his face. you were his now. your pussy was his, whether you liked it or not.

"don't move yet-" you babbled, trying to get used to the feeling of being stuffed full by the biggest dick you've ever had. jinu didn't move. he leaned into your neck to kiss and bite it while you were adjusting. you unconsciously clenched around him as he kissed your neck. he groaned in your neck, rolling his hips into you.

you freed your wrist from his grip, pulling his face back up to yours. you whispered on his lips, "you can move now..." he immediately pulled his length out and slammed it back in. you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, resting your arms around his shoulder. you both were moaning onto each other's mouths as jinu rocked in and out of you at a steady pace.

"faster..." you commanded. you swore you saw his eyes flicker a shade of yellow right before he started to plow into you. you were already starting to cream all over jinu's dick, you couldn't think straight; it felt so damn good.

"can't you see that we were meant to be together? look how your body responds to me." jinu breathes, glancing down at where the two of you were connected.

"i bet no one else has fucked you this good, have they?" jinu questioned. you decided not to answer, too caught up in how good you were feeling. he slapped your breast harshly as he fucked you, making you scream.

"answer me, slut." jinu growled, his eyebrows furrowing. your pussy throbbed around him at the degradation.

"no, they haven't-- shit!" his dick hit a certain spot inside you, making you see stars. he let out a menacing laugh, realizing he has you right where he wants you.

"that's right, only i can fuck this pussy like this, and make you cum on this dick like this." jinu grabs your thighs, thrusting into you harder and faster.

you mindlessly agree, "mhm, no one else, jinu. keep fucking me just like that," you wailed. one of your arms resting on his shoulders finds its way to his hair, gripping onto it.

"kiss me," you pant against jinu's lips, wanting to feel him close to you. he wasted no time in claiming your mouth. the kiss was slow, wet, and passionate. jinu slowed his thrusts to match the pace of your kissing. each thrust was getting you closer to the edge. your walls clamped down on jinu's dick, letting him know you would cum soon. he reluctantly let go of your lips to ask,

"gonna cum again?"

with hazed eyes, you nodded slowly. he rubbed slow circles on your sensitive clit, adding extra stimulation. it didn't take long for you to start falling apart on his cock.

"cum on this dick, baby," jinu purred, speeding up his thrusts once more.

"mmf- coming!" you murmured, feeling the familiar buildup rising in your core, ready to explode.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your whole body convulsing as you came on jinu's thick cock, your grip on him getting even tighter. jinu grunted from being squeezed so tightly by you, fucking you through your orgasm.

you let out a blissful sigh as you came down from your second high of the night. you thought jinu would finally take it easy on you, but he was not. he continued to drill himself roughly into you.

"jinu, i'm still sensitive!" you yelped, holding onto his shoulders. he pinched your right nipple, leading you to sob from the overstimulation.

"you think you're the only one who gets to finish, whore? no. i'm gonna fill this pussy up, to ruin you for any other man but me." jinu roared, cupping your right breast in his hand.

in a panicked tone, you gasped, "wait, don't cum inside me!" you knew you would be forever bound to him if he were to cum inside you. it would be a point of no return, with you at his mercy.

"that's not up to you to decide, my love." jinu smiled sinfully, his canines on full display. you looked at him frightfully while your heart rate sped up. "the fear in your eyes only makes me want to fill you up even more." his voice had went down a few octaves, the demon side of him was itching to come out.

jinu bit onto your shoulder, growling, as he spilled his warm cum inside you. you whined out in pain and ecstasy, feeling his canines digging into your skin and his release filling you up. you hated that you enjoyed it. his thrusts came to a complete stop while his cock went limp inside you.

you both were catching your breath, the aftermath of everything was now starting to hit you. what had you done? you put your hands on your face, shaking your head. you have no idea how you were going to face the girls after what just went down.

you removed your hands from your face, glaring at jinu. the bastard had the audacity to cockwarm you, wearing a cocky grin on his face. looking at his pretty face just made you angrier. "pull out of me, now." you sneered, putting your hands on his chest to push him out. being the stubborn demon that he is, he would not move. you groaned in frustration.

"you got what you wanted, now pull out of me already!" jinu obliged your request, slowly removing his cock from your hole. his cum was now leaking out of you. you rolled your eyes in annoyance. "this is exactly why i told you not to cum inside me." you sighed, pulling the straps of your dress back up. you reached over to the paper towels to clean yourself up, but jinu reached it first, carefully wiping away the cum that was leaking out. he used his fingers to push the rest of the cum back in your hole.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing? unh!" you choked, gripping his wrist to remove his fingers. you were not going to fall into his trap again. jinu chuckled, using his demon force to remove himself from your hold, successfully trapping you in place to keep you from moving, so he could continue to finger you.

"it seems like you still don't understand that this pussy belongs to me. i guess i have to show you." jinu put his thumb on your clit again, rubbing on it as he continued fingering his cum back inside you.

you wailed out, "jinu! stop! it's too much!" your thighs were beginning to shake, letting out broken moans. jinu leaned in to your ear, whispering, "tell me this pussy is mine and i'll stop." you were done fighting. you would do anything to stop the torture.

"fine! this pussy is yours... now stop!" you surrendered, wanting the delicious but dangerous pleasure to end. jinu bit on your earlobe, grunting in a disapproving tone.

"say it like you mean it, baby." jinu demanded, increasing the pace of his fingers inside you. you were already getting so close.

"this pussy is all yours, i promise," you rasped, so close to having your third release. "i'm almost there, don't stop, please," you hissed, rolling your hips on his fingers.

"good girl, now come for me." jinu praised, stretching your cunt out on his fingers. you screamed out, your body vibrating as you had yet another orgasm from jinu. this demon was going to be the death of you. he released his grip on you, pulling your face to his for a wet kiss. you slowly pulled away from each other, breathing rapidly.

"you're all mine now, and don't you ever forget it."

a/n: i hope you all enjoyed it! 🥹 i'm still an amateur writer trying to improve my writing so i'm sorry in advance if it's not the best 😔 constructive criticism is very much appreciated!!! <3 also open to writing another part if anyone has any ideas!!!

[lvrclerc]

LET'S (NOT) TALK ABOUT IT

summary: max verstappen never gets too drunk, except the one time he does. and it's your turn, his best-friend, to take care of him! but vodka doesn't mix well with the unsaid and max ends up spilling more than just a drink on his shirt, including the tiny, insignificant little fact that he has been hopelessly in love with you for years.

F1 MASTERLIST | MV33 MASTERLIST

pairing: max verstappen x best friend!reader wordcount: 4.8K content: alcohol, drunk confession, best friends to lovers, angst if you squint, mention of vomiting. note: requested here! lei you sent this AGES ago and i forgot about it..... but here it is! hope you'll enjoy it because it was definitely a very fun bit to write, and you know i always love writing for max ‹𝟹 fun little one before the next bible i'll put out!

KNOWING MAX EMILIAN Verstappen for as long as you had, you were well-acquainted with his irritatingly specific alcohol preference, honed through your blossoming epoch of shared adolescence and reckless partying, when he had the time. You mostly blamed his upbringing: he didn’t like anything too sugary, outright refused crémant while holding an enduring love for champagne, and sporadically drank “casual” alcohol like vodka and tequila but looked down on it when it was pure. Not whiskey, though. Never whiskey.

So, given how ridiculously finicky he was with booze, you genuinely couldn’t figure out how Max had gotten this drunk at a club only serving badly mixed, downright diabetic cocktails.

His arm was slung clumsily around your shoulders, and the full weight of his body leaning into yours made it significantly harder to drag him along the road leading to his apartment. Monaco still breathed the leftover heat of the day; the tiled streets were warm under your bare feet, each step further tattooing the memory of the sun into your skin. Drunk stragglers littered the road, trading laughter for the beating of a heart.

The muffled thump of music spilled from nearby clubs, weaving in with the distant hush of ocean waves. Trees along the French Riviera swayed lazily with the tepid breeze and amid all that balmy, quiet mess, your hand stayed firm against the sweat-slicked fabric of your best friend’s back.

“You’re heavy as fuck, you know that, right?” you huffed, the damp heat of his shirt clinging to your side.

Max mumbled something, low and gravelly, just clear enough to make through his inebriated haze. “You didn’t complain when I carried you out of that party in Miami…”

“You were sober then,” you shot back with amusement. “Now, you’re a glorified sandbag.”

“This sandbag won four championships!” he announced proudly, albeit loudly, stumbling a little as you adjusted your grip to keep him steady— and to avoid the perfidiously placed lamp post in front of him.

You snorted at his antics and at the little stagger in his steps as he walked. No matter how long you’d known each other, or how close you were, it was rare to see Max Verstappen—the Dutch Lion, Mad Max himself—in such a state: vulnerable and unguarded, with his emotions laid bare in the crack of his tone and the gleam in his eyes. “This sandbag,” you said, “is about five seconds away from face-planting into the gutter. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘champion’ to me.”

Max turned his head toward you, and only then did you realize how close he actually was. His nose grazed yours as you looked up at him, his breath, warm and laced faintly of citrus and tequila, ghosted over the indents of your lips. His hair was a tousled, sweaty mess of dirty blonde clinging to his forehead, and his gaze half-lidded, but still intense enough in the way the blue of his irises traveled from your eyes to your lips, sparkling with mischief as his mouth parted in a lazy grin.

Your heart wavered. So did your steps. 

Max was a good-looking man; this was never up for debate. But still, he was your Max.

You whipped your gaze forward again as his laugh split through the night air. “And yet, you’re still carrying me.” His tone was dipped in the same bratty, I-told-you-so lilt he used whenever he beat you at trivia games, almost child-like.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re not in the capacity to actually make it home by yourself.”

He gasped. Gasped, with his hand on his chest and everything, and you really, really had to concentrate not to burst out laughing. “You could’ve left me,” he said with mock offense, “if I were too inconvenient. I am… plenty capable.”

Something scrunched up in your face at the notion. You gave him a look. “Max, you’re drunk, not stupid. You know damn well you’re not an inconvenience to me. If you were—” you hoisted him up straighter on your side, pausing at a crosswalk. The red light bathed the pair of you in a soft, hazy glow. “ —I’d have dropped you when we were 18 after you threw up in my kitchen sink, and made me tell my parents it was me.”

“That was an intense party,” he mumbled defensively. “And I didn’t wanna make a bad first impression on your dad.”

You hummed. “It’s true that blaming me for projectile vomiting into our plumbing system is just so much better.”

“Your mom said the sink could handle anything!” Max dared to actually look offended.

“It’s a sink, Max. She meant, like, vegetable scraps. Not whatever diabolic thing you decided to ingest that day.”

Another laugh escaped him, this time soft as silk sliding over bare skin, and you found yourself punctuating his fit with a chuckle of your own. The memory was grotesque, sure, but it was something entirely yours. One of many.

When the laughter faded, the silence left behind was mellow. Without thinking, as some kind of reflex, you murmured. “You know I’d never leave you.”

And even though you can’t see his face, you know the usual sharpness in it has softened by the way his fingers loosen their grip on your shoulder, or how his body leans a little further into yours as the red light finally flickers to green. You’d mapped him out years ago.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he mutters back, and it almost feels like a secret he’s sharing with you, if there was any left to share. Something that said, Hey, I trust you. I know you. I know you wouldn’t leave me behind. 

And with Max Verstappen, trust has always been the rarest thing of all.

He exhales, letting his head fall on top of yours— well, more like it bonks it. You hiss in pain, but a laugh bubbles out of your lips before you can stop it. 

“God, I love your laugh,” Max whispers, as if to himself. Then, quieter, “I love you.”

Your thoughts all reels to a halt, leaving the words to seep into every crevice of your mind until it reaches your heart. They echo with painful precision: love, love, love, hammering in your chest so hard you could double over with the pain of your ribs breaking, a mantra trying to root itself into the space it left.

I love you.

He stumbles again, like the words cost him balance, and you barely manage to catch him in time. The wind brushes your skin, colder now, hitting you with a reality check: Max was drunk out of his mind. Nothing he could say right now would hold up in a court of law, much less in the court of morning light. Why would it matter?

You try to swallow it down as his apartment finally comes into view. The words you’d longed for years had been said. But they’ve been slurred, not meant. 

Such sweet hypocrisy. 

“...Right,” you mutter. Your finger flexes on the small of his back, trying to grasp something so desperately out of reach. “Let’s get you home.”

If carrying Max from the club to his home was an arduous task, getting him into bed was something of a Herculean effort. 

First, he became physically incapable of taking off his own shoes, preferring to sit inert on the shoe rack, rendered useless by tequila. Obviously, you had to crouch down and untie the shoelaces of the sneakers he refused to let go of. His only contribution was to absentmindedly play with your hair, twirling strands between his fingers with all the grace of a tipsy toddler.

“You have such pretty hair,” he’d mumbled, brushing a piece off your forehead and tucking it behind your ear. The movement was clumsy, somewhat hesitant, but so tender that the heat in your cheeks flared in your entire body, and had nothing to do with the sun that filtered through the open blinds all day. 

“I love it,” he continued, with the confidence of someone discovering poetry for the first time. “They’re so soft. It— it… flies. When you walk.”

You blinked up at him. “That’s the wind, Max.”

“No,” he squinted back at you. “You’re the wind.”

Right. Good luck figuring out what the hell that meant.

Then, no matter how sticky he was, he categorically refused to even look at the bathroom. You reminded him multiple times that he was coated in a ridiculous amount of glitter and sweat, and that he reeked like the obscure depths of a frat party, but it fell on deaf ears.

“If I go,” he said solemnly, placing both hands on your shoulders, “Will you go with me?”

Your eyes had shot wide open. “Max. I am not showering with you. Jesus. How many grams of alcohol are you operating on?”

He sighed and collapsed against your shoulder, completely defeated. “Then I don’t want to. I love being with you. I don’t want to leave.”

Classic Max Verstappen. Relentlessly stubborn, whether drunk or sober, so you dropped the issue. Arguing with him in such a state wasn’t a hill you were willing to die on. 

Every attempt to get Max to cooperate came with a new confession. You opened the door of his bedroom, something you’d done more times than you can count, and he loved that you always knew your way around his place. You dropped him onto the mattress, and he grinned up at you, told you he loved that you didn’t even need to ask what side he slept on. Apparently, post-drinks Max had an unlimited supply of love to give, as well as no filter. He loved your eyes, he loved your laugh, he loved your presence.

Not the kind of love that truly mattered, though, but you weren’t quite ready to pull that thread apart. 

You turned to grab a clean shirt from his closet and, behind you, all sense of gravity seemed to escape Max as he flopped onto his back, limbs starfish-spread. The mattress groaned under him in protest. You had to keep yourself from sighing.

“Max,” you called, holding up the soft white tee, “take off your shirt.”

He pushed himself up onto his elbows with the last of his strength. He tilted his head, a slow smile appeared on his lips, warm and undeniably pleased with what he was about to say.

“You do it.”

It wasn’t crass, nor was it sexual: the smile wasn’t a smirk, and his eyes didn’t dart at the hem of your skirt that rode up higher than necessary due to your efforts. Instead, something almost tender pulled at Max’s tone. All of a sudden, his room felt too intimate for the space taken by the friendship you spent a lifetime not to ruin.

Still, you sat down next to him. He was all obstinate limbs, you thought to yourself. There was no need to argue with him longer than necessary. You wouldn’t win this fight.

The bed recognized you out of muscle memory, sighing under your weight and the covers pooling around you like it memorized your shape from the many times you’d spent your nights next to him. You were close enough so that your knees brushed with the hesitancy of teenagers. In the charged quiet that settled between you, your pulse beat loud enough for two.

You reached out, silent, fumbling slightly with the first button of his shirt. The fabric was warm with the heat emanating from his body, and the soft linen slipped between your trembling fingertips.

Max didn’t move. However, his breath hitched when your nails grazed the skin of his neck, as if you’d burned him. His gaze was locked on your face like you were a shooting star in the middle of his ceiling, reminiscent of the glowing stars on yours when you were a child. His lips parted at your every movement, his intakes of air slowing down to match the motion of your fingers. You were sure he could hear your heart. That he could feel the hesitation shaking in your knuckles every time you brushed over a parcel of skin.

The second button took longer.

Max cocked his head, brows drawn together like he was trying to decipher you. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered. This time, he took his time enunciating it: none of the syllables were slurred, and each of them echoed clear as day in the hollow between your ribs.

You shook your head. “And you’re so drunk.”

His brow furrowed further in sheer incomprehension. You made your way to the last button as he struggled with words, opening and closing his mouth around silent consonants. Frankly, you didn’t want him to speak. You wanted him dressed and gone to sleep, so you could put all this false hope to bed with him.

You slipped the blue button up from his broad shoulders, careful about keeping your eyes away from his bare chest, but a small pressure on your wrist stopped you in your movements.

“You don’t get it,” Max insists. You froze at the intensity of his voice, the unbuttoned shirt slack in your hands. You could feel his frustration mounting—not at you, but at the way the words tangled before leaving his mouth.

“You don’t get it,” he repeated, slower now. “You’re so, so pretty. Like— you’re the wind.”

This time, an audible groan slipped past your lips. “Not this again.”

“Can you just— listen? For once?” he said, waving a hand as if you were the one interrupting. “I’m trying to tell you something very important right now.”

Knowing him, you knew that restless mind of his wouldn’t shut off until the thought clawing at his throat was out in the open and landed somewhere, preferably with you. With a soft sigh, you tossed the bundled-up linen shirt to the side, folding your arms across your chest as you gave him a single, begrudging nod. “Okay. Go on.”

He sat a little straighter, seemingly preparing for verbal battle. His spine wobbled with the effort. “Okay. So. The wind,” he stated, very seriously, and you had a hard time believing this metaphor was about to change your life.

“You are the wind.” Encouraged by your stunned silence, Max continued. “Like, you move through people. And places. You always belong everywhere and… and you make everything feel lighter, easier.” He waved his hand in a vague circle, trying to manifest the image. “You made me lighter, I think.”

It made some level of sense, albeit stumbly. Still, Max wasn’t done.

“I’m— fuck,” he curses, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been carrying this around since I was seventeen, this feeling. It’s stupid. It’s heavy. You’re just— you’re there, all the time, and it’s a lot—”

“Thanks, Max.”

“No! No, not in a bad way. It’s— God. You’re so pretty,” he murmured, and his voice broke on the word. “And you’re kind, and smart, and you make me laugh, and you make me better, and— tonight, you carried me home and helped me take off my shoes and you’re literally changing my fucking shirt and I’m so in love with you it’s making me useless.”

Max leaned forward, forehead gently pressed to your collarbone. His breath was hot against your neck, his hand lax at his sides. He hadn’t noticed you had frozen still, or maybe he did but just didn’t care, too caught up in his own thoughts.

Slowly, almost sheepishly, his arms wound around your waist. His fingers, rough and calloused, found home brushing your sides and resting against your lower back, palm pressing delicately as if he was afraid you’d break. You couldn’t move: the thing you’ve been trying not to want for years was suddenly happening, it felt bittersweet, and you didn’t know how to breathe around it.

Max’s voice came muffled against your collarbone. “Can you stay?” Your heart gave a traitorous lurch. Faced with your silence, he continued, quieter. “Just like this.”

You exhaled a laugh, wet and shaking. The humor was barely present in it. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.”

“No I won’t.” There was the stubbornness you had grown to love, turned childish by the tangy aroma of mixed liqueurs. “Let me have this one.”

His earnest tone did something to your chest. A small stab blooming into a blood-colored rose.

You hesitated a second longer. You let your body move before your mind could catch up: softly, you maneuvered both of your bodies to fit into the middle of the bed. Reaching for the light covers bunched near the end of the bed, you tugged them over both of you with one hand while the other found its place on the slope of his shoulder. Max shifted so his arms swallowed your waist entirely, his face buried in the crook of your neck, and it felt like somewhere you should have been a long time ago.

“Five minutes,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

He was already half-asleep when he answered. “Five.”

But neither of you moved again. Not in five minutes, not in ten. Sleep came slowly, and you couldn’t recall which one gave in to the weight of the night first.

Max crossed the threshold of his bedroom door, looking like a man who had narrowly survived war. His hair stuck out at angles defying gravity, his under-eyes bore the haunting hollowness of the dehydrated, and the single second a shard of sunlight brushed his cheekbone, he physically recoiled.

Still, even in his pitiful state, he’d managed to throw on the clean t-shirt you had gotten out for him last night and a pair of sweatpants, presumably after successfully peeling off whatever clothes he’d passed out in. You noted, with quiet amusement, that his shirt was inside-out. Baby steps.

You, on the other hand, had been up for hours.

Waking up in Max’s arms had been… something. The blinds you forgot the shut had lit up the room bright orange too early, and the sudden feel of his arm still slung protectively around your waist had sent you into tachycardia. You’d disentangled yourself as gently as possible, pulled on some of his older clothes from the drawer he kept aside for you, and set about pretending the night before never happened. 

You made coffee and laid out the Ibuprofen, waiting for him to wake up like he was a ticking bomb.

Now, Max collapsed onto the couch with a groan, dropping his full weight into the cushions. You approached him quietly with a mug and a pill in hand, wordlessly handing them over, which he accepted without a hint of grace. He swallowed the tablet with a sip so long and grim you thought he might weep.

“I’m never drinking again,” Max muttered hoarsely. 

You snorted, easing yourself down next to him on the couch. “You sound like a broken record.”

He lifted the cup halfway to his mouth and, behind the rim, smiled.

You stared at the motion longer than you meant to. Your fingers twisted at the hem of his sleeve you were wearing. “Well,” you said, eyes fixed on the swirling steam of your untouched cup, “you’ll probably forget about that promise, like you forgot everything else about last night.” You offered it with a little shrug and a chuckle like it was nothing, while your heart thudded unevenly in your chest.

You were probing for answers, so you peeked at him.

Max was staring at the floor, his fingers tight around the coffee mug. His brows were pinched, like he was either trying to solve a complicated equation—or simply trying to wrestle down the lingering effects of alcohol amidst the fragments of last night. For a moment, you were sure he didn’t remember.

You braced yourself. It was fine. It was better like this, truly.

“Actually, uh,” he spoke up. “I do.”

Everything went quiet.

“I remember all of it.”

The cup between your fingers almost slipped from your grasp.

The words had the same effect on you as an earthquake would have had. It messed with your balance, breath catching with your throat as you catched Max’s eyes. You searched it, desperately, for a joke, or maybe something akin to regret. Yet, he simply looked back at you, with the same resolution he always seemed to carry.

You laughed, a tight, high-pitched sound that didn’t sound like you in the slightest. Carefully, you placed your coffee mug on the table. It clicked too loudly against the wood.

“Okay, don’t worry,” you began, waving a hand toward him to dismiss… whatever that was. “I know you were drunk and—”

“Y/N—”

“—you don’t have to feel bad or embarrassed, really, like, we all say dumb shit when we drink—”

“Y/N.”

“—I mean, God, remember that one time I told Willem Jansen I wanted to go on a date with him even though I only wanted to ask him the time and I panicked—”

Max’s fingers found your wrist, overly delicate, and all the memories of barely a few hours ago flashed before your eyes, snapping your mouth shut. The world stilled around his touch, anchoring you right in that little pocket of feelings you’d been avoiding. His thumb brushed over your pulse.

His eyes were clear of any haze this time around.

“I meant it,” Max said, voice low. “All of it. Drunk, sober, it makes no difference. I think the same thing.”

Your eyes searched his face, terrified of what you might find and even more terrified of what you wouldn’t. Max just held you like he was afraid you might be the one disappearing next.

And in the face of what you’ve been waiting to hear for years, all you could muster was a downright pathetic, “Oh.”

Max hummed, a small noise of acknowledgement. He probably expected more, or maybe he expected even less. You couldn’t know, but “oh” was all that could leave your lips at the moment. The silence that followed stretched long and tight, just a few seconds shy of turning awkward. Your fingers tapped once against the side of your cup. His did the same against the arm of the couch. 

Finally, Max broke the quiet.

“I think I drank more last night because it’s been a while since we went out together,” he recalled. “My schedule and all. And you looked…,” he paused, shaking his head. “Beautiful.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “And I’ve, you know. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while. Years, actually. The feeling had just doubled. I thought if I drank enough, I’d stop thinking about it,” he lets out a sheepish laugh. “And if I stopped thinking, I’d stop wanting to kiss you.”

While your body was as stiff as a rock, your mind was the tornado centered around it. A whiplash of years spun through your head: the late nights, the race weekends, your shoulder against his on hotel couches, the way he always found you first in the crowd, how you’d make fun of all the older drivers scared of a teenager. The times you spent trying not to fall into the delusion that it might not be as unrequited as you made it out to be.

All those emotions, swirling and fighting, slipped out in a fashion unique to you. “You’re a twenty-seven-year-old man,” you blurted, tone more incredulous than scolding. “You’re pushing thirty. Wasn’t there a more mature way to… I don’t know, process that?”

Max barked out a full-bodied laugh, the ones you didn’t see all that often on camera. It was unashamed, not even a tad surprised or bashful, twisting a warm sensation in your stomach just because he looked so at ease.

“Well,” he said, turning his head to face you properly now. His mouth was curving in a way that made him even more stupidly handsome, and soft, just for you. “We met when we were seventeen, and I’ve loved you ever since. So I guess I tend to revert back to that when it comes to you.”

There it was.

Love, love, love. This time, the words thrummed behind your skin, rushing in your bloodstream and mixing with oxygen feeding into the beating of your heart. It got you drunk in a way alcohol never could, and there was the irony of it: it was the clearest confession you had gotten, from the most sober version of him. I love you. The unadulterated truth. It rendered you speechless.

Max mistook it for hesitation. You couldn’t blame him, you’d try to backpedal to save your dignity too if he had pulled the same move on you.

“I’d understand if you don��t feel the same,” he rushed out. “Yesterday must have been a lot for you. It won’t impact our friendship, I just wanted to be upfront with you—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

You launched yourself toward him with a force that made him grunt as you collided, lips meeting with such strength it sent him sprawling back against the couch. His hands instinctively gripped your hips to steady both of you, but the momentum had already taken over. You were practically straddling him now, your hands cupping his jaw, threading into his hair, gripping the fabric of his shirt.

And Max. He kissed you back like a man starved, as if the last ten years had been a long inhale and you were the only thing that could let him breathe out. It wasn’t clean, or practiced. You were both messy and desperate, all tongues and teeth trying to scrape the part of the other that didn’t already reside in you. Max tasted like coffee, and you needed him like an addict.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were flushed and panting, foreheads pressed together because parting seemed inconceivable.

“Don’t even think about implying I don’t feel the same,” you breathed out.

Max grinned, both smug and dizzy. “Jumping on me like that erased every other possibility. Even though my headache got worse.”

You let out a short laugh with the little air you could gather. You smacked his chest. “Being that hungover was not the perfect setting for a first kiss. You’ve only got yourself to blame.”

“Okay, yeah,” he winced playfully, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. “Maybe not how I planned it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You had ten years.”

“Fine, I didn’t exactly plan it,” Max admitted. He had given up all subtlety, his eyes flicking down to your lips. You couldn’t be more grateful for it. “But it’s fine. We can retry.”

He kissed you again, slower, more carefully. You savored the sensation of his lips gliding against yours as if it would be the last time, and quietly cursed him out when he stopped.

But soon enough, his lips found your flushed cheeks. “And retry,” he murmured.

This time, he pressed a kiss to your neck, just beneath your jaw. “And retry.”

You exhaled a shaky breath. Everything felt so much— his lips lingering on your skin, the way you were practically draped across him, your heart pounding. “Damn Max,” you whispered, the corners of your mouth pulling up as your fingers brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “Take me out on a date first.”

“That’s a yes,” he states.

You huffed out a laugh, unable to help how your cheeks warmed. “It was a yes, just prefaced by human decency. You know, food, a table… clothes, even.”

He groaned in protest. “Max!” you snorted, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You were now fully lying on top of him, his arms wrapped around you. The smell of him grounded you. Warm skin, lingering traces of cologne… it was him, who was yours, now.

You felt his smile pressing against the top of your head. “I’ll take you out, you can name the time and place.”

“Tomorrow,” you said without hesitation. “The restaurant by the beach.”

There was a beat of quiet during which you both cradled the other’s presence like something breakable, as if the wind could break it. You figure you’d outgrow that phase, one day. Just not today.

The wind.

“Though,” you broke the silence. “One of the conditions is that I get some clarification about the wind metaphor.”

Max groaned, and hearing him just like that felt like you had physically wounded him, arms tightening around your shoulders in protest. You laughed, giddy, love stretching across your entire chest and further out, enveloping you both. You pressed a kiss to his neck.

Max could explain it to you later. Maybe over pasta, or wine, or whatever your mind will set upon as you hold his hand next to the menu and salt shakers. There’d be a plethora of other kisses and shared mornings, with no hangovers in sight, with plenty of other metaphors that made more sense waiting to be invented or unraveled.

Maybe he’d explain it to you tomorrow, or even the day after. You had a lifetime to figure it out, now. You were patient to wait for ten years, you could be a patient a little while longer.

©LVRCLERC 2025 ━ do not copy, steal, post somewhere else or translate my work without my permission.

[sparrows4bats]

Damian Wayne is actually pretty confident in romantic relationships in the comics. He flirts, he commits hard, and he adores his partners.

If he and Jon got together, it would be full throttle down the aisle. They are obsessed with each other. Damian is planning the wedding after the second date and calling his mom to get the traditional wedding rings out of storage.

The funny thing is that he forgot to tell Jon, and it's only after Damian refers to him as his intended or something (they get attacked by Talias men as a way to ascertain if Jon is good enough for her baby) that Jon realises they are even dating.

It hits him like a train. All the gifts, dinners, and physical affection mean Damian likes him back, Loves him back. Jon takes a breath, takes another, and goes with it.

He loves Damian, always has, in so many ways it is hard to imagine a world where they don't spend the rest of their lives together one way or another.

And God did Damian grow up to be pretty.

And as this all occurs to him as they stand over the bodies of unconscious Assassin's, in front of a satisfied Talia. He decides he is going to marry this ridiculous man.

And he has so much to catch up on.

He can't let Damian win at romance, he refuses. If they are going to do this Jon is going to shower Damian with all of the affection he has spent years holding back.

Thus commences Jon's mission of being the very best partner ever.

He learns Ma Kent's recipes, and then after he gets her number, Talias recipes from Damians childhood. He brings coffee when Damian is getting off shift at the hospital. He learns what makes Damian blush and stutter. He learns how to kiss him in a way that makes them both breathless. (He gets addicted to being able to incite reactions in Damian, making him melt under his hands or flush such pretty colours with names like darling, sweetheart, or pretty boy.)

He asks Talia, Bruce, and Dick for permission to marry Damian. They all have different reactions. (Talias smiles as she threatens him, Bruce quizzes him on his intentions, and Dick cries but still instils a fear so intense he now understands why Nightwing can handle the entire city of Bludhaven by himself)

He and Lois pick out the ring together. A pretty gold band with sapphire and emeralds.

He ties the ring onto Titus collar and waits for Damian outside the hospital with all of his co-workers filming. It has to be the most romantic proposal in history, and Damian cries happy tears. Even if he is upset, he couldn't officially ask Jon first. The real issue is this all happened within six weeks of dating. No one really noticed and thought they had been together for years at that point.

As a married couple, they are Gomez and Morticia levels of obsessed with each other but with more competitiveness.

[bunni-v1]

wellll since you are taking requests! Can I request Sylus, Caleb, and Zayne with a fem reader who's playful and loves to tease them in public but when their having sex, she's all shy and that?? <33 (I haven't requested something in such a long time, I forgot how this works 😭😭)

Don't Hide~

Pt. 2

🍓Baby, you fucking know you can. My little MC is exactly like this, so thank you soooo much for allowing me to write her vicariously through this ask. I have sooo much fun with brat taming, you have no idea, I should write it wayyyyy more. Anyway, I really tried not to let my favoritism for Caleb show here, but he still has more than the other two. Sue me, I love my man.

TW: Intense eye contact in Caleb's; Brat taming; cat ears mentioned but not relevant in Sylus' part; Sylus is crazy big; teasing; softcore otherwise; editing/grammar errors (i am one college student)

Info: Sylus, Zayne, Caleb x Reader (Separate); NSFW

Word Count(s): Zayne (1.2k); Sylus (1.2k); Caleb (1.5k)

MDNI

ZAYNE

You loved to just push, didn't you? It was an annoyingly charming part of you, one that Zayne just adored in most situations. Playful poking and prodding was part of your daily routine, something he expected and honestly needed from you. If you weren't causing some kind of problem for him, you weren't doing well. He would rather you annoy him than see you sad and quiet.

Still, you really could get under his skin when you tried. Bonuses of knowing each other so well, he guessed. Even framing it like a positive was hard when you were trying your very best to get him to react.

Having your arms wrapped around him was a more than welcome experience in most cases. He loved it when you were so openly affectionate in public; it made him feel better about how badly he wanted to hold you, too. What he was not a fan of was the way your sneaky little hands seemed to be creeping lower and lower down his back. It was cute, at first. Easily mistaken as a comforting gesture when your fingers drew themselves back up after dipping just a little lower.

Yet, they didn't stop dipping a little lower. Each stroke got longer, went further down his back, until your fingers were dancing along the hem of his pants. If that weren't bad enough, you were doing it in front of a colleague of yours. Tara, you'd excitedly introduced. Chirping along happily together like two birds of a feather, like you weren't pushing your luck with each passing second. You knew that, though, didn't you?

He shoots you the subtlest look when your hand hovers over his behind, a warning. One, you do not heed, clamping your hand down and pinching his cheek with a Cheshire grin. And he squeaks, despite expecting it, the feeling still takes him off guard. Your grin only widens, especially when Tara blinks in surprise.

"Are you okay, Mr. Li?" She asks, befuddled at how such a stoic man could make such a noise.

He clears his throat, glancing at you, less subtly, "Fine. We should be going, though."

"Aww," you and Tara pout at the same time, though yours is far less genuine than hers.

"Well, it was nice to see you. Have fun with the rest of your day!" She waves, skipping away, oblivious to the tension between you.

Zayne lets out a deep and heavy breath, annoyance leaving him all at once. His eyes zero in on your smirking face, expression even despite the intent clouding his green eyes. He tugs your hand away, wrapping it around his waist in a firm grip so you don't do the same thing again.

"You can't behave for a second, can you?" He sighs.

Another self-satisfied smirk, "It's not my fault you have such a cute butt! It's just begging me to grab it."

He hums, pulling you along with him without another word. He can feel the excitement rolling off you in waves, practically leaping and bounding at his side to get home. How obnoxiously adorable. Your ability to manipulate him into giving you what you want was admirable; he'll give you that. Besides, it's not as though he'd be the one feeling embarrassed by the end of the night, so he'd let you have your little victories.

--

He'd had you on your knees before the front door could even fully close. Shaky hands struggling with his belt, fumbling futilely a few times before finally wriggling it out enough to unzip his pants and slide his member out. It bobs uselessly in front of your mouth, begging for some semblance of friction. Naturally, as if magnetically attracted, you lean forward to take him into your mouth.

A firm hand stops you before you can, making your face scrunch up in confusion, fluttering up to his. The intensity in his eyes is enough to burn you up from the inside, heated and full of intent. You look away quickly, trying to ignore the heat searing beneath your skin. He doesn't allow you to run, gripping your chin and bringing your eyes back to him.

"Use your hands," He commands, "and look at me. Understood."

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. Not good enough.

"Words."

You swallow, "Yes, Zayne."

The grip on your chin softens, stroking the skin there as if apologizing for the roughness, "Good."

Your shaky hands come up, spitting on them for lubricant, then carefully wrap around his cock. Gentle, easy, practiced. You know what he likes, slow and easy. You watch the way your hands glide along his shaft, smiling when the sticky pre-cum coats your fingers. So pretty.

He clears his throat, and you correct your mistake like you've been Pavloved. Looking up at his flushed face, chest heaving, and body, eyes watching your every move. Nervousness tends to build up in your chest when he looks at you like that. No walls or hidden meaning, just sheer desire. You want to hide away from it, but you know he won't let you. All you can do is swallow the ever-growing lump in your throat and let your face burn hotter and hotter.

You watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate some of the need between your legs. It's useless, as expected, and only serves to make you feel more pathetic. You don't stop, though, obediently tugging his member at an even pace. His breath grows more shaky with each stroke, mouth slightly ajar and puffing the hot air out unevenly. Much prettier.

His fingers trace along your chin, down the sensitive column of your neck, and back up again. Mirroring your movements from earlier, giving you a taste of your own medicine. It makes you shy away a little, flinching back when they dip between your collarbones. He spreads them out as he comes back up, pausing in the center of your throat and giving the smallest press, prompting you to swallow against them. He shudders when you do, having to use the door to keep himself upright.

He was close, so close. It made you want to speed up, but you don't. Not unless he tells you to.

"Are you sorry?" He suddenly asks, low and gravely, like it was hard to get out in the first place.

You bite your lip, shrinking into yourself as you mumble, "'m sorry..."

"Clearly," he commands, "or else I'll make you stop right now."

You jolt, shaking your head adamantly, "I-I'm sorry. I am! I promise, please?"

He scoffs a laugh, "Brat... open your mouth, now."

You comply, sticking your tongue out, and within a few moments, he's spurting out onto it. You lap up his release obediently, never breaking eye contact, no matter how much it drives you insane. The hand on your chin comes up to pet your hair, a silent praise for your good work.

"Did you learn your lesson?" He asks lowly, scratching your scalp gently.

You nod, proud to please. It's cute. Really cute. But he's not quite satisfied. With a low hum, he helps you off your knees, nudging you through the house on a straight path to the bedroom.

"Why don't we test that theory, then?" He whispers, a promise that you were in for a long night of behavioral correction.

SYLUS

Sylus was a tease at heart, always pushing your buttons and getting on your nerves with little to no effort at all. He'd admitted to you on more than one occasion that he found your feisty reactions positively adorable. You were his little kitten, after all, what kind of man would he be if he didn't get you swatting your claws at him?

However, teasing him was a difficult endeavor. One that you'd become an expert in. See, you couldn't just whisper sweet nothings into his ear or draw your hands along him sensually. He didn't react to that; he found it more funny than alluring. Calling you needy, which you weren't. No, if you wanted to get something out of him you had to be smarter than just sheer sex appeal.

You had to be cute.

Not so cute that you came off as childish and stupid, he would catch on to things too fast and ruin your fun. Just cute enough that it would get his heart racing, make him pause, and take a second to admire you. When he did that, you knew you got what you wanted.

Which is why you were walking hand in hand with him now, swinging your arm just slightly between your bodies. You were in some expensive shopping district, looking around for something to wear for a mission you were assigned to. He'd insisted on buying you a dress when you'd mentioned it offhand. Who were you to deny him the privilege of seeing you spin around in glittering dresses like a teenager picking out a prom dress?

You'd gotten a bit... off track, though. Purposefully, of course, not that he needed to know that. Excitedly bounding from shop window to shop window, gazing in at the silly souvenirs and cute little stuffed animals like a kid on Christmas. Sylus allowed you to tug him around, a soft smile on his face as you rambled about how cute that little teddy bear is, then in the same breath refused to let him buy it for you.

You stopped short when you came across a little standee outside of a costume shop, laughing at its contents. Cat ears of various types hung on the little turnstile, the perfect killer. You bounded up to it, scanning across the different types before plucking two off the rack. You turn back to Sylus then, a giddy smile as you show him your little treasure, lifting it up with pride.

He leans down without another word, letting you set the white pair on his head. His eyes softening when you clap your hands. You know you've got him right where you want him. You just needed the finishing blow. You set the second pair on your head, pointing your chin to the sky like a proud lion.

He smirks at the sight, petting your head like he would a regular cat, "Aren't you cute?"

You bite your lip, going in for the throat, "Now I really am your kitten, huh?"

He pauses, visibly processing your words and realizing just what you were up to. A scoff tumbles out of his mouth, eyes rolling from the sheer idiocy. He'd fallen for your cutesy little antics, again, just like he always did. Steady fingers grip your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes settled on him.

"I wasn't aware she was so prone to misbehavior. Tell me, are you looking for punishment, kitten?" He purrs lowly.

Mission successful, "I'dunno what you mean, Sy..."

--

Riding Sylus always felt impossible thanks to his incredible size. You always managed to fit it, but it was more than just a little fight. This is what you asked for, though. Your little cry for attention earlier rewarded with a brand new pair of cat ears, and Sylus’ lazy smirk as you struggled to adjust to him.

Your hands weakly kneaded at his chest, trying to ground yourself from the intensity of the stretch. He merely watched you, red eyes drawing across your figure slow and steady, pleased to have you on display for him. His calloused hands rested at your waist, thumbing over the skin there in approval as you settled down.

It was impossible to hide from him like this, making the burning sensation across your body all the more apparent. You just couldn’t help but be embarrassed at the way he seemed to drink you in, savoring you with every sense at his disposal. You were sure he had a secret sixth one made just to relish in your humiliation. Yet, he does not say a word to shame you or make you feel less than. Just watches and appreciates you as you are.

Somehow, that was worse than degradation, melting your mind to a mushy pile of nervousness.

Still, you’d practically begged for this, and as always Sylus had given it to you as you wished. You wouldn’t want to disappoint both of you, so you took a deep breath and began rolling your hips. Slow little circles at first. Unsure, but gradually building as you grew more comfortable in your place on top of him.

Each movement set your nerves alight, sending shocks of pleasure across each inch of your skin. The heat building in your core, spanning across every nook and cranny of your body, wrapping you in a blanket of warm pleasure. Sylus seems to track it with his eyes, drawing up from the sensual roll of your hips, to the way your muscles tense, across your bouncing tits, and landing on your scrunched up little face.

You could practically hear him purring — no, he was purring. A low grumble shaking his chest, traveling through your trembling fingertips and sending the signals directly to the heat between your legs. To be admired so much was just too much for you to handle right now.

You lean over him, tucking your face into his shoulder. It’s a weak attempt to hide at best, not that you’d be able to hide no matter what you did, but you make it all too easy for him to pull you up with a gentleness that seemed too loving for the moment. All too Sylus as he eased your pouting visage back into his line of sight.

“Running away already?” He coos, fingers massaging your neck as if placating you.

You’re far too embarrassed to argue with him, so you just nod, “It’s too much.”

He hums, mocking thought as he takes in your weak excuses. You’re far too cute for him to know what to do with, but he would figure it out, “Do you need my help, kitten?”

In the second of clarity you have, you debate telling him no. Yet, he twitches inside of you when you open your eyes to take in his all consuming stare, and the thought evaporates from your mind. You do need his help, very badly. You’ll probably burn alive between the scorching pleasure and his fiery gaze without him there to placate the flames.

You give him a weak little teary eyed nod, and he eases your face back into his shoulder. He was always so accommodating with you, so gentle and loving that it made your stomach tie into knots. Only forgetting the feeling when he helped to work you along his length, humming sweet words of praise into your ears, letting you hide away from him all you wanted. That’s what you wanted after all, right?

CALEB

Teasing Caleb was an art form that only you had mastered. You would think that after knowing someone for so long, it would be easy to rile them up. Yet, Caleb was the most controlled man you had ever met when it came to handling your light-hearted jabs. Part of it was thanks to how well he knew you, but the other part was simply because he was good at ignoring his own feelings. He could push and push and push them down to the depths of his mind until they were practically non-existent, and your teasing was no different.

The most you'd get for your efforts was a smirk, maybe a ruffle of your hair as he scolds you, and if you were really annoying, he would chase you around the house and tickle you for your crimes. Rarely was it anything more intense than that.

Rarely. Not never.

There was one way to get Caleb hot and bothered enough to do something, and that was your favorite game of all time: Look, don't touch. It was fun to see just how far you could get, doing all his favorite things with an air of innocence, just to see how long it would take to get him to crack.

Your personal favorite method of torture was to find a shirt of his - dirty, preferably - slide it on and walk around the house with nothing but it and a lacy pair of red panties. (His favorite, judging from how often they go missing from the laundry.) It's a long game you have to play, because winning against Caleb's disciplined ability to pretend was always a long game. Luckily, you were just about the one weakness in his mental fortitude.

You start in the morning before he leaves for work, or else it won't work. If he's at home all day, he'll just take care of it without thought. You walk out of the room, and his eyes catch on your legs. They rake over the exposed skin like trying to burn it into his memory, as if he hadn't done that a million times before. Then, like clockwork, he realizes what he's doing and tries to look anywhere but you as you waltz around. Knowing he has a responsibility that he can't skimp on, even for you, keeps him stiff and robotic as you kiss him goodbye.

Then, step two kicks in: text him frequently. Keeping yourself at the forefront of his mind (which you always are, mind you) and letting him know you're thinking of him makes him squirm in a way that's unbefitting of a soldier. He can't stop himself from thinking about your legs, the way his shirt rested against your body, and what was beneath it. Waiting, begging him to get a peek as you stretched your arms over your head. His eye twitches when you send him yet another suspiciously worded text - never incriminating, but always implicative.

Then, when his shift is nearly over, when you spent your whole day playing coy, you reach the final phase of your plan. You send pictures. Nothing explicit. That would ruin the fun of it all. Just cute, mundane tasks. A downward angle of you cooking dinner, reading a book on his bed, or maybe just a picture of a movie you're watching with your bare legs in view. All visual reminders of what he left at home, all reminders of why he needs to get back now.

--

Normally, Caleb prefers you to tell him what you like in bed. He's soft, attentive, a little sloppy, but entirely obsessed with your pleasure. It's not as though he's neglecting that part of himself, quite the opposite, actually. You were the one who had made it abundantly clear that you wanted- needed him to put you in your place. He knows your little games, he knows you like no other person on the planet - in the galaxy, hell, the entire universe.

So, of course, he knew you wanted him to fold you in half and show you what happens to misbehaving, teasing little pipsqueaks like yourself for all your efforts. Who was he to deny you of what you'd been begging for all day? Wouldn't that make him a bad Caleb? It almost means that the way he makes you look at him, knowing full well that the eye contact sends you into a flurry of embarrassment. He's just so... intense, in every sense of the word, especially when he's having sex with you.

One leg bent up to your head, the other wrapped around his waist, and two strong arms boxing your head had you surrounded. Chest to chest, buried to the hilt, there was no escaping the little prison of pleasure Caleb had built for you. Your reward equaled your punishment, and you wished you could complain, but you knew your voice would catch in your throat and Caleb would tease you for it. You had no choice but to sit there and look up at him, hoping he'd be a little nicer than you were to him today.

His eyes are hot as they trace along the planes of your face, eating up the sight like his last meal on earth. The subtle shift in his expression as you squeeze around him, feeling the intensity of his gaze far more deeply than you'd ever admit out loud. His eyebrows twitch up in surprise, before a lazy smirk crawls over his face, leaning down to kiss along the apple of your cheek to the shell of your ear.

"Y'know," He starts in a low drawl, sending your head spinning, "If you want me to take care of you, you can just ask."

You shake your head, though there isn't a real purpose for it. You're just a little too flustered to think right when he's got you like this. His dominance really is something all-consuming, and it reminds you why you don't tease him like this often. You would be a dead man if you had to put up with his relentlessness every time you had sex.

"No?" He asks, as if he's confused, but the condescension in his voice gives him away.

He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing against your walls just enough to get you to tremble a little. Then, all at once, he pulls himself out to the tip and pushes his way back inside in a fluid motion, "You don't want me to do that? Then tell me what you need, won't you?"

You whimper, tossing your arms on your face like that might help you here. Nearly forgetting how easily he overpowers you in your hazy headspace until he seamlessly pulls your hands over your head, interlacing your fingers as if they belonged together.

"No, no, no. None of that, you gotta look at me, 'kay?" He hums so sickeningly sweet it makes you want to swing at him.

A whine tears through your throat, tossing your head to the side to bury into his arm. Defiant and bratty to the end, as always. He huffs out a laugh that's all too affectionate for how annoying he was being, then chases your face with his own. You feel the warm press of his sweat-slicked forehead against yours, heated breath fanning over your face. You don't budge, not even when he nudges your nose with his own as encouragement.

He's reaching the end of his limited patience; you can feel it in the way his fingers tremble around your wrists. He could hold back all day when you weren't physically near him, but he was inside you for god's sake. Any man - well trained soldier or not - would collapse under the extreme pressure of a nice warm pussy. Your nice warm pussy was simply one of the greatest weaknesses he had, second only to your oh so pretty eyes he was being deprived of right now.

"Pips," He whines, voice uncharacteristically squeaky, "Lemme see your pretty eyes, yeah?"

You curl your hands into tight fists, trying and failing to fight him off one last time. A little voice in your mind reminds you of how mean you were to him today. Listen to his voice, he needs you just as bad as you need him. It's okay to give in, Caleb will take care of everything, it whispers so sweetly. You can't refuse its logic, not when it seems so totally right as he twitches inside you again.

You slowly peel your eyes open, nearly jumping at the way he's staring so intently at you. Brows worried, lip caught between his teeth, and pretty purple eyes darting across your face. You expect some kind of comment from him, some words of praise or thanks, but all you get is his hips pulling back and slamming back into you. It gets your toes curling instantaneously, a moan ripping from your vocal cords in surprise.

You shouldn't be, though. This is what you wanted. Caleb was just giving it to you. He would always give it to you.

[neosvcr]

letting him fuck you without a condom for the first time.

it was a very welcome surprise to him, honestly. "raw? that's a hell of a lot of trust, huh, baby?" he murmured, his large hands pushing your thighs further apart. he wraps a hand around his cock, trailing the tip up and down your soaked slit. initially, he did it for the sole purpose of riling you up before he gave you what you want, but the feeling of your essence coating his sensitive tip ended up in his own undoing too.

as soon as he began to slowly push himself into you, he visibly lost all composure. his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes glued to where you both met. "fuck, baby." he groaned deeply, adjusting to the sensation of being bare inside you for the first time. your warmth and wetness completely enveloped him, coating his cock with a glistening layer of arousal as he began to rock his hips.

"you gonna freak if i knock you up?" he asked, the words naturally falling from his lips. clearly, both of you were too far gone to think straight. his words took a while to register due to how good of a job he was doing, but once they did he could feel the effect that question had on you. he pushed deeper inside of you with each slow thrust. "you're just so fuckin' pretty like this, i might end up putting a baby in you." he continued on, his voice dropping an octave. he lowered himself to ghost a light kiss to your lips. his smirk grew as a new wave of arousal coated him.

"pretty baby's making a mess on my sheets," he chuckled, his own restraint being tested by this position. "you like that idea? want me to fill you up, honey?" he muttered as he fluttered soft kisses around your face. he noticed how your body responded to the way he was talking. he always did. he smirked at the realisation that he'd stumbled across something new to drive you up the wall. he lowered himself to his elbows, his arms on either side of your head as he held you. he grinned as you nodded, his face now only inches from yours. "look at me, baby." he whispered, noticing how out of it you were. you were getting so whiny. he gently tapped your cheek. as soon as your eyes met his, he began thrusting deeper and a little harder. you were making a mess all over the both of you at this point. you were both getting louder, breathier, more desperate. his hand gripped your thigh possessively as his other one rested near your head. "i love you," i murmured, his eyes locked on yours. "i love you so much," he continued, the intensity of the connection and situation being almost overwhelming.

his thrusts became more deliberate, repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you. he watched the way you reacted to everything he was doing and saying, breathy groans spilling from his lips. "i'm gonna cum inside you, baby." he spoke, "gonna knock you up. wanna make me a daddy?" he began rambling as he watched you gaze down at the sight of him disappearing inside of you.

"cum with me?" he asked breathlessly. "please, cum for me baby," he continued, almost begging. "you can do it," he encouraged, his fingers finding that bud between your thighs. it wasn't long until you both came, riding out the intense waves of pleasure. he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, praising you for doing so well. that definitely would not be the last time you did this.

sungchan, eunseok, anton, hanbin, jiwoong, gyuvin, gunwook, jaehyun, johnny, yuta, jeno, jaemin, mark, jisung, haechan, kun, yangyang, soobin, taehyun, jake, sunghoon, jay, heeseung, mingyu, wonwoo, scoups, vernon, juyeon, sangyeon, sunwoo, hyunjae, eric and anyone else you wish to add in

[xfgpng]

— : [nsfw] rough sex, recreational drug use, they’re both high

— : kink :: aphrodisiacs

the lady had given the pair a glass of the very red and very rare wine. it had seemed innocent at first but y/n slowly started to feel the effects as they made their way back to the inn. it was far more intense than the first time it hit her. just one small sip had this much power? it made her shudder.

jinshi was no better himself, his cheeks flushed and his eyes already starting to glaze over. she would’ve been concerned if she wasn’t more worried about getting her robes off and sitting in a cold tub filled with ice.

“that sneaky old hag” jinshi grunts, “she said it wouldn’t be this bad”

“of course she said that!” she snaps, she’s not mad, not really but she hadn’t expected it to take effect so fast. she prided herself on being an expert at dealing with different poisons and drugs.

she can’t even remember all that the older lady had said. she had brewed the tea for 10 minutes and the smell was intoxicating on its own but the effects of drinking it was almost instant.

one minute they were fine, normal even and the next they were sweating, cheeks feeling flushed as their robes clung uncomfortably to their skin.

“relax darling, we’re here to take care of each other” he chuckles, despite the flush on his cheeks getting worse. she knows he’s having a harder time than she is but she’s not in the mood to call him out on it.

stepping into the cold tub is soothing to her hot skin but it doesn’t nothing to help her burning desire. she can’t help the small pants that leave her slightly breathless.

“jinshi” she gasps and he nods in understanding, stepping into the tub behind her.

“i’ve got you my love” he gently lifts her onto his lap. he’s rock hard and it’s almost painful now but the moment she sinks down, he can’t help the loud moan. their inn is private enough but he knows their hosts had seen their state when they arrived.

he can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed about it. he focuses on how good she feels around him, fluttering and clenching uncontrollably.

“fuck” he tosses his head back, his fingers digging into the meat of her thighs.

she moans, slowing lifting her hips and down. the cold water around them does wonders for both them in terms of cooling down but very little for their lust.

she’s never experienced anything so intense in her life, she feels almost desperate for him. she can’t help moving faster and she moans louder when he thrusts up to meet each of her movements.

it’s so good, so much more hotter than it usually is but she’s not too keen on trying to drug again after this. it was almost too overwhelming.

“so good” he pants against her ear, “you make me feel so good”

he kisses her neck, his grip around her body tightening as he thrusts up faster. neither of them seem to care about the water sloshing around onto the floor. that’s the least of their worries.

“more jinshi, please” she begs and he happily obliges. he bends her over the tub, holding onto her hips as he pistons his hips in and out. it’s hard and fast and so uncoordinated but he can’t help it, can’t control how desperately he needs this.

they collapse forward, the tub creaking dangerously as he cums inside her. it’s so much hotter now and it’s a lot, messing out and dripping down her thighs.

“jinshi” she whimpers.

they had another hour of this before the side effects of the drug would subside. he could feel himself twitching inside her, still hard even after cumming so much.

“shhh i know darling” he coos, kissing her shoulder, “i’ve got you, let me make you feel better”

[salmonlyster]

im feeling really normally about the 4k remaster and the release of gerards character name so here r my im not okay headcanons :ppp ive drawn frank and ray maybe once ever

more thoughts under the cut vv

okay i might make these fuckerrs into a little comic because theyre eating in my brain like a little worm.... similarly to the im not okay mv the primary inspiration is rushmore but id also want to draw from like heathers and blue monday and eltingville etc

here are some screenshots w notes on them and dynamics etc

illi: glue of the group, introduces them all to each other. for the sake of this, illi and louise are not related. name is from the 4k rendition of the mv. incredibly ambitious and always creates the main idea for the schemes that the group gets up to. kind of only nonbinary due to the fact that illi is an incredibly interesting name, and a very open opportunity for me to make revenge gerard even more nonbinary. their uniform is neat and tidy, not particularly out of respect for the school, but more out of awareness of their own appearance. into fashion but doesn't really know how to deal with their hair. just lets it grow out and fucks with it in the moment. croquet mallet is blue, so draws a lot of inspiration from veronica sawyer. they/she pronouns? maybe? but i lean towards they/them.

frances: placeholder name i guess? it's important for him to have the initials "FTW" to play on both ft willis/fuck the world but i think percy also works since it's a bit of a play on pencey prep. incredibly strained relationship with louise- very different personalities is a source of conflict between them. frances has the messiest uniform because he's the least put together, and has the most carefree attitude about things. hes really into being a problem but hes an unnaturally bright student when he actually gets into doing the work - taking a page from max fischers book here lmao. chipped nail polish. wears barrettes sometimes. very clever.

louise: i've always been enamored by that interview where gerard says that the band used "louise" as a nickname for mikey so i've associated it specifically with his glasses era. no last name for now but i think it has to have the same ou sound. primary inspiration for his character is max from rushmore. used to wear his hair slicked down until illi staged an intervention and forced him and frances to hang out one-on-one and style hair. neat uniform, but doesn't fit him properly for whatever reason. hand me down? transgenderism? he's just too tall? idk! connected with adults more than peers growing up and as a result is very under-socialized. involved with student leadership at the school.

ray: ughhhhh WHYYY did he have to write ray rules on the paper it would have been so fun to make a completely new name. okay anyways i just like graham and i think it suits whatever i have built for him. undiagnosed adhd and if anything a bit of a halfway point between illi and the rest of the group. illi is really intense and cannot be stopped sometimes so graham is kind of the "babygirl i was made to understand you vision" person. yeah im getting this from the hand on shoulder and sitting closer in that one scene but be nice to me im working with like. two minutes of footage as a launching point. uniform isn't buttoned, not because of carelessness, but forgetfulness. he's a little bit inconsistent about everything he does.

the school in general: rushmore style private school, kind of dying in recent years so funding and management is all over the place. mascot used to be the dogs or something but there were copyright issues with the logo and now they are the bears.

i thiiiink thats all i have for now?? im going to draw them more just you guys wait lmfao. ive always loved im not okay more than any other mv by a large margin so all things considered this is me being normal.