#anons i don't bite pls

[leechespitifulexistence]

I need anons to talk to me I only have three people I regularly talk to, AND TWO OF THEM ARE MY PARENTS.

[angeart]

How dare Link correctly predict my reaction to teases, how dare (<3) YES I wanna know what prompted the upset, what well meaning thing went so wrong D: And that bit about still hoping to be loved breaks my heart for them

-🎀

the bit about still hoping to be loved broke my heart too, and that's why i needed to include it <3

so, about hermits wanting to help them. one smaller example is them taking a look at scar's tattered wings and suggesting that maybe they could help fix them. which is good!

but this comes after scar having his wings like this for about a year, and it took a long time for him to learn to accept them as they are. he's no longer ashamed of them, seeing them simply as a part of himself now. (the same way his scars have always been)

and, sure, he will still take a chance at having them healed, but it still rubs him wrong, in a way. even though it's a kind, well-meaning offer. because it proposes that he needs to be fixed.

but a whole big issue stems from something else.

we know scar and grian have changed.

grian, in particular, flinches a lot and seems scared. scar, on the other hand, often shields grian, and calls on his vex traits to intimidate the danger away, showing he's not afraid to fight. (he is afraid. he's constantly afraid.) and they're both awfully codependent, clinging to each other and isolating from everyone else.

[1,7k rambles and ~3,2k rp snippets below the cut]

one of the things they leaned into in that other world was their hybrid traits. and they show in the way they interact with each other, you know? the way they express trust and love and know what the other one needs.

well, scar is a vex.

we know there's a mating bite, but that's not everything. him and grian indulge in a lot of biting and blood related stuff. all consensual! grian is a little freak so he likes it!

it's something the two of them do, privately and intimately. it's safe, it's fun, it's theirs. them being insanely in love and ready to give all of themselves over. lose all of control on both sides, at least for a moment, in a world that hardly allows such a thing.

but here's the issue: the others don't know anything about any of it. they don't know what scar and grian have been through. they don't know anything about vex instincts or mating rituals. they don't understand anything about this new thing.

so when they see grian timid, bruised and bitten? and they know that scar seems more violent now, sharp-fanged and clawed?

let's just say they get concerned. and stage a bit of an intervention.

they just want to make sure that grian is okay! it... should be a good thing. except they've separated them and are now cornering grian, asking all these questions and voicing all these assumptions. and it's a bit awful, actually.

grian is pressed into having to explain that yeah, actually, he wanted all of that. that it's love.

but him naming the so obvious damage love just rings more alarm bells. and maybe someone asks him if it's a form of self harm, to allow that to happen to him? like, if grian seeks it out, is it self destructive? is that why he craves it?

and sort of, him and scar spiral about this in different ways.

grian struggles with untangling his way out of it, because what if they're right? what if he subconsciously sought harm? but he liked it? is it wrong to enjoy it? he knows that he had his moments when he was actively trying to bring himself damage. mostly aimed at his wings—plucking out his feathers and such. but is this just another thing like that? a substitute damage of sorts? was he just oblivious this whole time?

grian never had a previous relationship experience, so he really can't tell what is love. where does it end and Something Bad begins? he associates the bites with love, but is that bad? is he wrong? would it feel different if someone else showed him that love is something else? did he just manipulate himself into feeling like this and now he's in too deep?

at least he knows scar would never hurt him if grian says no. if grian doesn't want it. but... if grian wants it... is it self destructive? is that what it means? or maybe he was just chasing the aftermath? the soft care (that scar'd offer regardless)?

his mind is a mess and he can't figure out what his real feelings in this all are. he doesn't know how to figure it out. he gets really confused and worried and scared. (he's terrified that they're right, not necessarily for himself, but because of what that'd do to scar.) (he's scared that scar will blame himself over this. that no matter the outcome, this is inevitably going to mess something up between the two of them.)

in the meanwhile, scar feels like a monster. like maybe he was doing something wrong this whole time. was he enabling something horrible? was he genuinely hurting grian this whole time, unaware?

because he's a vex, and it makes sense to want this on his end, but grian is an avian, and... maybe scar should've questioned it more? shouldn't have been so eager to indulge? did he do something irreparably cruel without meaning to?

through this all, he reassures grian it's okay to take a break from it, or even to completely stop. it's fine! it's always been fine! but despite that, their feelings continue to spiral, caught in a maze they can't escape.

it used to be so simple. back in the vex commune. scar never had to doubt himself and the way they express their love. not when it came to this.

and now suddenly it seems so different. so vile and wrong and horrible. people are genuinely concerned and scar and grian wonder, separately, if maybe they're right to be?

... eventually they both hurtle towards a breaking point. and scar decides he needs to talk to someone about it. and grian decides he needs to be alone for a moment, becoming overwhelmed, needing some space to think.

i really want to tell you about what happens in the talk scar has with the others, but i can't. not quite yet.

anyway, this is where the breakdowns come in. (yes. multiple.)

first is scar's during the conversation he has. he gets to hear a lot of good, wise, reassuring things, but ultimately, he still needs to hear from grian. he's been trying so hard not to influence grian's conclusion to all of this, but. he needs to know grian's thoughts, once grian is ready.

grian is not ready. he's been growing so emotionally worn out from all of this, so volatile and fragile. it's all a bit Too Much.

scar messages him, checking up on him.

are you okay?

and

i'm here waiting for you whenever you come back

and

but i'll come find you if you want me to

and

i love you

... but here's the thing, right? neither scar nor grian are used to comms anymore. so grian doesn't read any of that.

they regress back to what they know.

scar howls.

grian chirps.

and only then does scar's comm ping.

come.

zero hesitation, scar unfolds his wings and jumps off the balcony, rushing towards where that chirp came from. he's being called. he's being wanted.

he'd go anywhere for grian.

he finds grian perched atop a tree. struggles to climb up, but never falters. because grian's now starting to cry, and scar needs to be there.

tucked safely into scar's gentle, loving arms, grian breaks down.

--

with a hitched sob, grian falls forwards into scar's arms, burrowing easily into the warmth and familiarity and security.

he wants to say he's sorry. he's sorry this is so hard for him. he's sorry he can't untangle this; sorry he can no longer tell which are his feelings and which are just things people have suggested he might feel. he's sorry he's making this so difficult. he's sorry he's worrying everyone.

but words evade him as scar's arms provide just enough safety for his guards to crumble lower, making him just sob instead.

--

and believe it or not, somewhere in the midst of this (hey do have a proper talk, if a bit tear-drenched) is scar's second breakdown. (grian's time to hold him!!!) that's where the rp snippet in the previous ask is from. and you'll get more of that in a second.

first i just need to tease the aftermath, because i'm a menace.

after crying and comforting their hearts out, they fly(!!!) back. there's immense relief to wind in grian's feathers, and a dangerous edge of the feeling of freedom it brings, wanting to soothe all the cracks on his soul... but the truth is, his soul is still cracked. and he's still depleted. he knows he's still hovering over something so incomprehensibly fragile. that the smallest prod will set him off and break him again.

they arrive at their nest—scar first, to warn their company not to ask questions, grian second.

it doesn't stop it from happening. grian was right: the smallest thing can set him off.

so he has another breakdown, possibly a bigger one, drawing on far deeper hurt that screams and tears at his heart. and plunges all three other people in the room into breakdowns of their own <3333

(yes that's the part we can't talk about. yet.)

aNYWAY!!! how about some rp bits.

---------------

SCAR

Despite Grian’s crying being entirely contagious— or perhaps Scar is just simply too empathetic and emotional himself— Scar’s had practice with consoling his sweet bird. He knows what he ought to do here. 

He tightens his hold until it’s snug and secure, then pressed a few little kisses to whatever part of Grian’s head he can reach.

And then he talks.

“I knew you’d be up in a tree somewhere.” His voice wobbles a bit, but it’s alright. “I wanted to give you some time… I missed you though. Like immediately.”

He chuckles softly, knowing their bond borders on codependent, even if it’s something they’ve worked on since they’ve gotten home. Still, it’s okay to poke fun at it, he thinks. It’s okay to admit the truth.

--

GRIAN

grian's sobs quiet down a little as scar talks, energy redirected to hook into the familiar rumble of his slightly quivery voice, sniffling as he listens to what scar has to say. 

it's sometimes hard to decipher the meaning of sentences when he gets like this, but scar doesn't seem to expect an answer; he's not asking him anything, and grian's grateful for being given time, a grace period where he can just cling and cry and calm down while scar holds him. 

he laugh-sobs at the note that it was obvious he'd be in a tree. he's given scar a lot of hard time in the past until he figured out that lesson, but now he always knows unfailingly where to search when grian's heart needs him after cowardly isolation.

he comes every time. he comes and he finds him and he holds him. 

grian sniffles, despondent, burrowing tighter in. he chirps a little to encourage scar to go on, to keep talking; the sound of it is shaky, about to fall apart to pieces, but he thinks it still counts. it's still something. a participation, not leaving scar stranded and alone in this.

--

OK LOOK WE HAVE TO SKIP AHEAD HERE BECAUSE [REDACTED] REASONS

--

GRIAN

grian hums again, fond and soft, slumped against scar with utmost trust. and then he finally says it. "'m sorry."

--

SCAR

"Hey, none of that, mister," Scar says, shaking his head into Grian's hair in more of a no than a nuzzle now. "It was a lot, it's okay. You needed a moment."

He places another kiss.

"And you knew I'd be here in a heartbeat when you were ready, right?" Scar grins sheepishly.

--

GRIAN

grian's hands trace idle patterns on scar's back as he gets comforted by words and another kiss. he closes his eyes, taking it in, before replying with a soft little "yeah."

-- 

SCAR

Scar purrs at the affection, openly so. "Doin' a little better now?"

--

GRIAN

grian nods, still right against scar, clingily pressed into him. "yeah, i... yeah."

--

SCAR

Scar doesn't budge, not interested in releasing his darling bird just yet. "...what's on your mind?" he prompts softly, hoping to get a glimpse at Grian's inner turmoil.

--

GRIAN

with eyes still closed, grian lets the pause linger just a moment, before replying with a quiet but honest, "right now? how nice this feels."

--

SCAR

Scar chuckles again, a little anxiety getting settled by that fact, though certainly not all. "Oh, well that's good, yes. I agree with that sentiment entirely."

--

GRIAN

"good," grian purrs, squeezing at scar. "'coz i don't wanna lose it."

--

SCAR

Scar's ears twitch, something awfully depressing in those few words. "Hey, no, never," he assures. "This is never going away, okay?" 

Since he seriously doubts cuddling is about to give anyone the wrong ideas.

--

GRIAN

grian has to swallow several times for his feelings to not go off the rails again. he takes a shaky breath, still squeezing at scar, as if he was afraid he might disappear. "... okay."

--

SCAR

"And neither am I!" Scar tacks on, even if it should go without saying. Even if it may be a little dramatic. But he thinks maybe Grian needs to hear that fact stated with absolute certainty. "I love you too dang much."

--

GRIAN

that gets grian to loosen his grip a little, enough to shuffle and look up. hair messy and eyes glistening and red rimmed, he looks up at scar with so much aching adoration, it feels like he might drown. 

"i think it's okay if— if we love each other in our own way," he says sheepishly. he ducks down, laying his head on scar's shoulder, feeling shy as his hands go back to tracing patterns on scar's lower back. "even if the others don't understand or agree." there's a precipice of a pause, and then the most timid little "... right?"

--

SCAR

Scar's heart stutters, and his ears flick up again with carefully optimistic anticipation at Grian's words. His eyes threaten to flood over again, but the tears feel different, more cathartic, less miserable. 

He tucks his head over Grian's again, brushing his cheek over his locks affectionately, daring to release a few hopeful tears as Grian says what he desperately hoped he might. 

"I..." he starts, still trying not to influence this decision if he can help it, but... "I think so. ...I mean it's—" He thinks of [REDACTED], and chuckles wetly, morphing them in his own Scar-silly way. "It's not really anyone else's business what we do in the bedroom, is it?"

--

GRIAN

grian's hands still against scar's back, simply holding him for a moment as he soaks up scar's nuzzles. there's wetness to them, something that makes grian's heart ache as he worries about all the possible meanings, but hopes against all hope that it's just scar getting positively emotional—a relief of sorts above all else. 

a small strained chuckle makes it past his lips, and he muffles it into a kiss that he presses into scar's shoulder. "right. exactly."

--

SCAR

Scar weakly smiles, giving Grian a squeeze. "...but seriously, I— you know it's okay if we stop, right? If you ever change your mind— and I mean your mind, nobody else's— then it's fine! But... I... yeah." Another squeeze. "I just want to be sure you know that."

--

GRIAN

there's a barely stifled sigh, but no hint of tension pools across grian's back. his hold remains still and gentle, his head idly leaning on scar's shoulder. "i know," he murmurs.

--

SCAR

"Good," Scar states, ducking lower so his forehead presses into Grian for a moment before releasing just enough so he could escape the big bear hug if he wanted. “... you know, [REDACTED]”

--

WE ARE ACTUALLY TAKING ANOTHER LEAP, ANOTHER SKIP, ANOTHER SCRIBBLED OUT SECTION. bear with us <33

--

SCAR

[REDACTED VERY REDACTED] “I mean, I had to learn all this vex stuff, too. It’s not… I mean it’s certainly not the most family-friendly sort of culture but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong, does it?”

--

GRIAN

grian blinks at that, lifting his head in attention. this really surprises him, for some reason. that [WOO REDACTED AGAIN WOW] 

"oh." he takes a moment, leaning slightly back, inviting scar's touch a little bit further. "yeah... yeah, i think he's—" he bounces the words around in his head again, then settles on: "it's a learning curve every way, isn't it? whenever there's new instincts and..." he skirts around the words mating rituals, feeling a faint warmth rise up to his cheeks. he looks away briefly, teething at his bottom lip as he thinks of all the worries he himself used to have, all the mistakes kane made, all the effort and talking and correcting it took for things to finally have it all sink in the proper way. 

he clears his throat, shyly looking back at scar, but then his gaze anchors and softens. his hand travels up from scar's chin, brushing through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ears. "it's not wrong."

--

SCAR

“It’s not?” Scar asks meekly, even though he was the one to propose so first. To have Grian confirm it is so much more important. Because even if they can agree it’s not wrong for Scar to have sought out these things, ultimately he wants it to be right for Grian as well.

Scar chews at his lip nervously, but still tilts toward the offered affection, absolutely weak to it.

--

GRIAN

"mmm." grian lets his fingers brush through scar's hair again, gentle with him at every step. "it's not wrong," he repeats softly.

--

SCAR

Scar opens his eyes, both of them glistening with potential tears, but he offers up a weak, wobbly smile, appreciating every graze of Grian’s fingers. “…is it— it’s not wrong for you either?”

--

GRIAN

grian takes in scar's expression and he leans in for a short kiss. "it's not wrong for me," he murmurs, right over scar's lips. 

and maybe he still feels confused, and maybe he still has some exploring and figuring out to do, just to really settle things in his heart, but he knows scar will be there with him every step of the way. just like he knows that [REDACTED] is right—scar is good for him. 

and he wants all of him.

--

SCAR

The tears fall alongside a pitiful little chuckle, but Scar leans right back in for another kiss, not caring at all for the wetness that streaks down his cheeks. 

They can match now. It’s fine.

“I… I’m—?” Scar falters, and he laughs again, ducking his head down in slight embarrassment. He can’t even bring himself to say it. To even imply that he was worried that he was wrong for Grian. “…okay.”

--

GRIAN

the sight of tears breaks grian's heart. still keeping one arm around scar, hoping it'd make him feel close and secure, he lowers his other hand from scar's hair to his cheek, gently collecting the wetness even as scar leans in for a kiss. (one that grian gladly gives.) 

even though scar doesn't finish his question, grian can connect the dots. he remembers the time when he himself thought he's not good for scar, and he knows how awful and heavy that self doubt was.

with utmost tenderness, he kisses scar's cheek, right in the path of wetness, while his fingers gently brush the tears on the other side. "scar." it's quiet, reverent. irredeemably loving.

he pulls away, wanting scar to look at him as he says this. his wings twitch, brushing over scar's, curling inwards towards him. pressing against scar's sides under scar's wings as grian lets go of his back in favour of cupping his face, thumbs brushing over cheeks.

"scar, you're good for me."

he strings up the words, slow and deliberate and certain.

--

SCAR

It’s Scar’s turn to break again, clearly, as his eyes water over and big, wet tears fall down his cheeks and collect over Grian’s hands. He doesn’t even have words to respond with, just wide, grateful eyes and wobbly lips that can’t decide between a cry or a smile. 

His hands also find their way over Grian’s, though one escapes to run his own thumb over Grian’s cheek in turn, still feeling the dampness there. It’s oddly comforting.

“…sometimes I worry the hermits don’t think that,” he admits, gaze flicking away as he tries to keep a strong facade. (Hard to do while he’s actively crying, but it could certainly be worse.)

--

GRIAN

"oh, scar." grian sighs, heartbroken, brows pulling into a pained frown upon hearing that admission. he can hardly bear this, knowing scar's been made to feel like this.

he leans in to press a kiss to his forehead, wings slinking further along, wrapping around scar right underneath his vex wings. he wants to cocoon them into warmth and safety, away from these treacherous feelings.

the hermits managed to somehow break both of them down, with nothing more than good intentions.

grian hates the uncertain, askew feeling that pushes bitter bile up his throat, telling him maybe they're not quite right for this place anymore. that they forgot how to belong, but nobody has caught up yet and still expects them to be their selves that they can no longer reach.

“you know [REDACTED I AM SO SORRY]” he attempts a smile, though it's hard. he tugs at scar, wanting to pull him in for a hug, tuck him underneath his own chin, all safe and protected, but he leaves it up to scar whether he wants that or needs more breathing room right now. 

"maybe they need time. i... i've been hiding away a lot and. honestly i don't think they can tell what's good for me anymore. not right now." it's hard to admit. "even if they mean well." but well-meaning that hurts both him and scar is just meddlesome. 

maybe they needed this though, in a way. it would be better if it came from a different place, subtler, gentler, but still. maybe they needed to work through exactly these feelings.

"anyone who says you're not good for me will get smacked," he threatens, remembering scar's (and kane's) offers to bite people who look at grian wrong, in a way returning the favour. "'coz they're wrong and they have no business spewing nonsense."

--

SCAR

Scar gladly takes up the offer to be smothered in affection, and he boldly chooses to corporealize his wings fully and gently tug them around the base of Grian's, knowing well that wing-on-wing contact is almost always acceptable. And right now that sort of thing brings immense comfort to him, too. It's something they both share, after all. A pair of wings and a pair of patched up hearts.

"I know they mean well..." Scar whines into Grian's chest this time, and though there's no cozy shawl to bury himself in, it's just as comforting. "but they don't know everything, and... and I know that's mostly on us, but god it's just... it's so much sometimes, Grian." 

It's not exactly pleasant to recall those memories. To try to explain just how horrific it was to their old friends. To look them in the eyes and admit that they're different now because they had to be. (And how they still hope to be loved despite it all.)

--

GRIAN

grian wraps scar up in his arms, holding him close. one hand in scar's hair, the other sliding down between his shoulderblades, rubbing at that point between his wings, unaware he's copying exactly what [REDACTED] did earlier.

the pressure of scar's wings over his own helps him settle a little, gives him comfort and courage through this glass-shards of a conversation.

"they don't know everything," he echoes quietly, kissing the top of scar's head before he leans his cheek on it, cradling him. "i just wish..." he closes his eyes and tugs at scar, holds him a little bit tighter. he doesn't really know how to finish that sentence; all the words feel like they're crashing and splintering over sharp cliffs.

all that's left in the rubble is a weary sense of defeat. "it is so much," he agrees. "it's so tiring to... they expect us to be..." he doesn't finish any of his sentences, but he wonders if scar understands anyway.

--

SCAR

Scar understands perfectly. He nods softly as he listens, lulled in by those soft touches, tears drying as he lets Grian’s presence fully engulf him.

“…they expect us to be the same,” Scar finishes for him, certain that Grian’s had the same trouble he has, though perhaps to a different degree. “And… maybe we won’t ever be. But… I don’t think all the ways we changed are bad. Like— sure, we’re still messed up and jumpy and… and I mean, frankly traumatized, but…” There’s an effort to poke his head up, but Scar finds himself too reluctant to leave the comfort of Grian’s arms just yet. “We’re also in love. And… we have a new appreciation for life. And each other.” A half-sniffle, half-chuckle gets stuffed into Grian’s chest. “…is that too sappy?”

--

GRIAN

grian chuckles mirthlessly at the list of things they suck at, their reactions and trauma stitched close to them like their shadow, endless and monstrous, looming behind their every step. but scar is right: they have changed in so many messed up ways, and they might never be the same, but... it's not all bad. 

"we're in love," grian echoes, a notch lighter, just a little bit amused that the list of dark things ends with a complete shift, plunging them into sappiness. it's such a scar-like thing to do; he's aware of just how bad things have gotten, but that doesn't mean he won't fight to dredge up every little optimistic and hopeful thing out of it anyway.

grian loves it. it's gotten him through many dark times, this quality that scar has. his tenacious way of thinking and latching onto bright things, even if it's a barely flickering flame amidst complete, terrifying darkness.

he kisses his head again and then nuzzles against his hair, humming. "it's scar level sappy," he replies, mulling it, before landing on: "which means it's perfect." 

the only time scar's level of sappy is too much is when he's flustering grian, but he's not going to point that out, in case scar takes it as a challenge to compare the two right here and right now. (he'd be capable. grian knows.) 

he rubs at scar's back again, humming a soft melody, wanting to calm him further. but there's one thing even he can unearth from the ashes, something written into all their stitches and scars.

"we survived." 

nothing can beat that. no matter how they've changed, or what they can now see in a different light.

they made it.

"and we're good for each other."

--

SCAR

Scar giggles at the term. Scar-level sappy, indeed. His own brand of optimism, wrapped in layers of insecurity but boundless levels of adoration. 

And it got him this far, didn’t it?

“We survived,” Scar repeats, because that’s so damn important. They survived. And they did it because they were together.

Because they’re good together.

“…the power of love,” Scar adds, soft and sentimental and maybe just a bit goofy, hoping to turn the tides from tears to mirthful laughter.

--

GRIAN

once again he gets grian to giggle in a fragile moment—a talent scar has and grian values. in retaliation, he shifts his hands, brings them much closer, until he can tease at scar's ears. 

"we survived, so now i can do this!" his cheeks are still wet, and he feels depleted from all the heavy emotions, but he still manages a grin as he tries to make scar squirm.

--

SCAR

Scar barks out a fit of genuine laughter, somewhat startled by the shift, but he can’t complain when his lips are suddenly tipped into a bright smile and his ears are flicking wildly at the affectionate abuse. 

“Hey!! No fair! I’ve been so gentle!!” he cackles, already shedding that mercy and tickling at Grian’s ribs.

---------------

aaand i'm going to end on this note (because you know it devolves again. we're good at making things fall apart repeatedly <3 a great angst loop if you ask me.)

but, i'm going to leave you with a little bonus. which is what me and link talked about today. on this same topic, really.

which is how scar changed. hermits know him as the guy who dies a lot, right? also easily distracted, carefree, easily dissipating into giggles, easily brushing things off. all of that.

he could get startled by a fly. he'd yelp and stumble and fall over when he got scared.

but that other world forced other things on him. it forced him to be brave, or at least, to seem like it. forced him to fight to keep himself and grian safe. fight for them both to survive.

now when he gets scared? there are wings and claws and fangs.

he couldn't show weakness in that world, you know?

and it sticks. it sinks its talons into him and holds.

the only person he shows weakness around is grian. and... maybe if he'd been willing to show it more around the other hermits, they'd see that he's still scar.

that he's still scar and he's hurting and afraid.

(yes blame link for this heartbreak brb sobbing with u)

also. a potential conversation:

someone saying to grian (while scar is also possibly there): "scar came back... wrong."

grian angrily counters with "no, scar came back different but not wrong."

and then

quieter

"... i came back wrong."

because, think about it. scar changed, but it can be argued that some of it is better and he's just being misunderstood. but grian? grian can't imagine any good coming from how he's now.

he didn't grow braver or kinder or stronger or any of those things. he just caused [REDACTED]. he's a scared, hurting mess. there's nothing good about him now.

as link said in our discord dms: scar needs to scoop grian up and remind him that he's here for the whole ride. he'll be here while grian learns to heal.

because he will heal.

[iamtired10]

I'm afraid this is my type……(bro rambles, so cute) - 😶‍🌫️(i shall be this emoji)

im ur type???

[flashfictionfridayofficial]

I think you missed my fic. Should I rb it and tag you again?

hi! so far, only the entries that came in on friday have been read & reblogged. saturday's entires will soon follow. if you think that your entry has been missed, please just send us the post via dm, thanks!

[swampstew]

Honestly? Based on your writing and posts here, you seem like a person that is very sweet, but could absolutely beat the shit out of someone if needed

(definitely don't bite though)

This is so spot on but I hate to tell ya - I find joy in biting.

Live. Laugh. Bite.

Anonymously send me an assumption based on my writing!

[theinfinitedivides]

re my dearest i didn’t know ahn eun jin sang one of the osts and omg it’s beautiful 😭 so full of emotion she’s so talented

it really is, anon! very different from Kai and Park Sang Hoon (singing voice of Ryang Eum)'s versions but i find myself losing track of time whenever it comes up to play—i hope we get to hear her sing at least once in series as well <333

[kipskiptrip]

💖💜💪💬

ANON YOU CAN'T JUST SAY YOU HAVE A ROMANTIC CRUSH ON ME THEN LEAVE WHERE ARE YOU!!!!!!

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

60 Seconds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: heavy angst, rape (explicit), being bound and gagged and blindfolded, kidnapping, heavy trauma

Request by anon: Would you write something with Spencer x reader (s7 ish doesn't really matter) where you're taken or kidnapped and when they find you, you keep yelling like 'no, no, don't hurt me' and shit like that cuz you don't realize it's them, and Spencer rushes to you and holds you but you're like trashing and hitting his chest until you break down in sobs pls that would be the cutest help. Also love me some team reactions to it happening skskdks OKAY BYE

Summary: One minute can change everything. A lot can happen in sixty seconds, and your entire world is turned upside down when you’re taken off the street in broad daylight. Spencer and the team fight to save you while you’re fighting to stay alive.

Square Filled: laid on a stretcher for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Everything can change in one minute.

That’s sixty seconds.

You pass by the bank you and Spencer have a joint account with. Three seconds. You see a woman and her child playing with bubbles across the street at the park. One second. You wait for the crosswalk light to turn green. Twenty seconds. You cross the street with a group of people. Ten seconds. You stop at a flower stand and buy two roses, one for Spencer and one for you. Twenty seconds. You turn the corner onto a desolate part of the sidewalk. Two seconds.

A van pulls up next to you and two men reach out and grab you. Six seconds.

One minute.

You’ve heard of stories where people are taken in plain sight and in daylight, but you never think it’ll happen to you. You’ve heard stories of victims being tortured, raped, and abused, but you never think it’ll happen to you. You’ve heard stories about victims needing a lifetime of therapy knowing it won’t fix them, but you never think it’ll happen to you.

Until it does.

Spencer moves about the office with you on his mind, excited to go on a lunch date with you. You’re not part of the BAU but you try to visit as much as you can. You have your own art business that you sell out of your apartment. You like to paint, make vases, and occasionally sew. Business has been booming for the last year so you’re not worried about not finding a “real” job any time soon.

Lunch time comes but you don’t show up, and Spencer thinks you might have gotten lost in a project. That tends to happen a lot, so he calls you to see if you’re going to be free any time soon. You don’t answer.

“Reid, JJ got something for us.”

Spencer puts his phone away and will call you later when he has a minute. Just like that, you’re pushed to the back of his mind. He has victims to save and bad guys to put away.

He just doesn’t realize that the victim this time is you.

The two men who took you were only the delivery boys. The men who have you are much worse. Spencer must be on a case if he hasn’t tried to contact you. Maybe he has. You’re not sure. You’re also not sure how many hours have passed or if it’s the next day. Time stops when all you can think about is pain.

They put a blindfold on you as soon as they stole you from the street so you’re not sure where you are in the world or what the room even looks like. All you know is that it stinks in here like dirt, sweat, and blood.

You’re hanging from the middle of the room by your wrists, your toes barely touching the ground. You’ve been suspended like this for so long that you’ve lost all feeling in your hands due to the rope biting into your wrists and cutting off circulation. If you’re lucky, they’ll fall off.

You’re stripped bare to just your panties. Those men love easy access where they can get it. Cuts adorn your once smooth skin and dried blood cake down your body. If you don’t give them what they want, they get violent. You’re surprised you’re not dead right now. They’ve beaten, raped, and abused your body multiple times in a single day.

You just hope that wherever you are, Spencer comes soon. You’re not sure how much of this you can take.

Spencer comes home after a grueling seven days in the field. All he wants to do is take a hot shower and snuggle in bed with you.

“Y/N? You home?” Spencer turns on the light but you’re not there to greet him like you normally are. “Y/N?”

He walks to the bedroom thinking you’re sleeping but frowns when he sees the bed is perfectly made as if no one has used it in a while. He checks the guest room but you’re not in there either. He takes out his phone and calls you but it goes straight to voicemail. He checks the Life 360 app only to see your phone is located in some ditch on the side of the road.

Now he starts to panic.

“Can’t get enough of this team? You just saw us for a week straight,” JJ jokes when she answers his call.

“Is Y/N with you?”

“No.”

“Have you seen her or talked to her all week?”

“No. What’s going on?”

“I think she’s missing,” he panics.

“Who, calm down, Spencer. Why do you think she’s missing?”

“She’s not home, she hasn’t been answering all week, her phone goes straight to voicemail, and I can see her location is in a ditch somewhere off the side of the road. You don’t think…”

“I don’t think what?”

“Do you think she was taken by the Daylight Killer?”

The Daylight Killer has been on the BAU’s radar for quite some time now. They take innocent women off the street in broad daylight only to return them back to their families after weeks. During those weeks, these women endure harsh psychological and physical torture. The BAU hasn’t been able to capture this man because they don’t think he’s working alone. If anything, it’s an organization that keeps him hidden from the authorities.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Spence.”

“JJ, she always answers her phone. Her biggest fear is me not picking up mine because of our job.”

“I’ll get the team together.”

Spencer immediately heads back to work and meets the team in the briefing room. They already have the victims of the Daylight Killer posted on the bulletin boards despite not having concrete evidence that you’ve been taken by him.

“What do we know?”

“I have already looked at the security cameras around your apartment, this building, and everything in between.” Penelope puts pictures of you on the screen for all to see. “She was last seen walking down Main Street when she stopped at a flower vendor on the corner of Main Street and Dobson Road. She turns the corner and continues to walk toward the BAU.” Penelope puts up three more pictures, one of you walking, another with a car parked right next to you, and the other with you gone. “This car stops next to her and she isn’t seen on any other cameras.”

“Did you get a plate?” Derek asks.

“Only a partial, but the system hasn’t come up with anything yet. You’ll be the first to know.”

“What if it is him? Do you know what he does to his victims?” Spencer asks with tears in his eyes.

“We need to speak to the survivors and see if they can remember their time with him.”

“You want to put them through that pain again?” Emily asks.

“What other choice do we have?” Rossi asks.

It’s safe to say that the victims of the Daylight Killer were less than thrilled to have to relive their experiences. Some of them are still in the hospital recovering from their injuries while others are locked away in their houses too afraid to go outside. There are only two girls who are brave enough to come forward. Confident that if they help the BAU, the men will get caught.

“If you need to stop at any time, please let us know,” JJ says gently.

“Okay,” Stacy, one of the victims, whispers.

“Close your eyes and focus on the sound of my voice.” Stacy does, and she wrings her fingers together nervously. “When you were taken, do you remember what you could feel?”

“You mean besides their hands on me?”

“I can only imagine this is hard for you but don’t focus on them.” Stacy nods and tries to relax. “Focus on the car ride. Was it bumpy? Smooth?”

“Smooth but then it became bumpy like they were driving on rocks or a dirt road.”

“How long were you on that road for?”

“It seemed like hours but probably ten minutes.”

“Then what?”

“They parked and took me out of the car. I was still blindfolded.”

“What was underneath your feet? Rocks? Dirt? Concrete?”

“Sticks. Dirt.”

“So, you were in the woods. What did you smell?”

“Dirt. Nature. It was musty.”

“What did you hear?”

“Insects. However, they stopped once we started walking.”

Spencer leaves the room after hearing enough from Stacy. So, they are keeping their victims in the woods. What woods, is the question.

The best part about you is Spencer. He brings out the best in you and pushes you to do your best in everything you do, especially with your art business. He never goes a day without telling you he loves you, and he shows it with the little things he does. He leaves out little notes for you on the kitchen counter before work, he buys you cookies and other sweets before he comes home, and he gets you flowers every single week.

Even in bed, he’s super loving. Sure, he’s been rough with you a few times but your favorite is how gentle he can be. He can spend hours in bed just worshiping you before giving you his sock. He fits so well inside of you like he was made for you. Even now, you can picture him bending you over and sliding his cock into your pussy. He touches your skin as if he’s mapping every inch of your body. He rarely leaves behind any marks because it reminds him that he can hurt you. He’s seen too much in the field to leave marks on you.

You’re pulled from your dream with Spencer when one of the men slaps your ass hard. His dick feels nothing like Spencer’s. He doesn’t care if he stretches you too much or if he doesn’t fit. He’s still slamming into you from behind and chasing his release. Your entire body aches from the pain but you refuse to give him and the other men the one thing they crave.

You refuse to cry.

You slip back into your dream and replace the man raping you with Spencer who loves you.

“According to the camera’s timestamp, she’s been missing for a week. Do you know what these men do to these women? What are they doing to her right now?” Spencer panics.

“I know it’s hard but you can’t think like that. We’re doing everything we can to try and find her. Right now, we have two women who remember being in the woods which means this unsub or unsubs need privacy. They can’t risk anyone finding them so they have to be isolated. That narrows down a lot of places,” Hotch says.

“They can’t be far either because Virginia PD is always on the scene whenever they release these women. They have to have a place close enough to where they can grab someone and release another in the span of hours.”

“Garcia, anything?”

Penelope pulls up a map of the area and circles the places where it’s likely the unsubs are located. All are in densely forested areas with nothing around them for miles.

“Based on the survivors’ accounts of being in the woods and the fact that they both said they weren't in the car for long once they got onto the dirt road, I estimate that the unsubs are located in one of five places. Every single victim has been released at a gas station before walking into town where there is reception.”

“That’s too many to go to. They could see us coming and leave. How are we going to narrow down this list?”

JJ comes marching into the room with a look of determination and worry on her face.

“We got another woman missing. Melissa Summers was out jogging when she was taken. This time, there were witnesses. They witnessed a ‘dirty white van’ and ‘two men grabbing Melissa off the streets’. They saw a partial plate which matches the one who took Y/N.”

Spencer goes rigid at the news because there are two reasons why they took someone early. They normally keep their victims for two or three weeks before releasing them and grabbing someone new. You’ve been gone for just over a week. Either they changed their minds and let you go early or you’re dead.

Spencer doesn’t have to say anything for everyone to know what he’s thinking.

“Reid, don’t go there,” Derek warns.

“Too late.”

Spencer leaves the room just before he bursts into tears. He can handle being by your side while you heal from their abuse but he can’t handle the thought of you being dead.

You wish that was the case. You wish they had killed you. After a week and a half of abusing your body for their pleasure, they leave you to rot on a dirty mattress with your hands tied behind you, duct tape over your mouth, and a blindfold over your eyes. The door opens but you don’t have enough energy to react. You’ve been saving your energy for when it matters the most.

“What should we do with her?”

They must have another girl if they’re already talking about disposing of you.

“We should just kill her, boss,” another man says. “She doesn’t make it fun. She doesn’t cry or beg like the others.”

“We should just leave her here and move on. She hasn’t seen our faces. She doesn’t look like she’ll talk.”

“Enough. Both of you. I’ll decide what to do with her when I’m done with her.”

The door closes and you’re back to lying in the darkness.

“Okay, so according to her parents, Melissa goes on a run on the same route every night. It’s on Mason Trail located next to a gas station. It’s one of the ones Penelope circled,” JJ says.

“We should go check it out,” Spencer suggests. “What harm will it do? The best case is we find the men responsible. Worst case is she’s not there and we try again. We have to do something.”

“I’m with Reid on this one,” Derek says.

“If we’re wrong and she’s not there, it could ruin everything,” Rossi says.

“You’re both right,” Hotch says. “Let’s go.”

The team, as quietly as they can, make their way to the house deep in the woods located near Mason Trail. It’s not quite night but Hotch keeps the headlights off to prevent anyone from seeing the sleek black cars. Virginia PD is right behind them because, despite the concern about this not being the location, Spencer has a feeling it is.

They park several hundred yards away from the house and finish the rest of the way on foot. If this is the house and someone is home, they won’t take kindly to Derek announcing that the FBI is at their door. Instead, he kicks down the door and just barges in.

There are four men sitting around the table playing poker who all jump up from shock. They reach for their guns but the FBI is quicker. Derek, Rossi, Hotch, and Emily take down the four men while the police search the house to clear the other rooms.

“Where is she?” Spencer asks once they are all in handcuffs.

“Dead.”

“There’s a door to the basement,” one of the officers announces.

Spencer refuses to believe you’re dead. Hotch leaves the unsubs in the care of Virginia PD and follows Spencer down to the basement. Light floods the room and Spencer pauses when he sees Melissa strung up wearing nothing but her panties, and you lying on a dirty mattress in the corner.

Emily and JJ immediately go to Melissa to help her down, and she starts to cry when she realizes she is being saved.

“You’re okay now. They’re not going to hurt you anymore,” JJ soothes.

Spencer runs over to you and unties the rope that binds your wrists. The second you’re free, you find the burst of energy you’ve been saving. You swing at the person who is above you thinking it’s one of the men.

Spencer grabs your wrists and tries to stabilize you but you’re thrashing too much for him to control. Derek comes over and helps Spencer hold you down, and Spencer removes the duct tape from your mouth.

“Y/N--”

“No, let me go!” you beg.

“You got her?”

“Yeah, I got her.”

Spencer lets go of you and Derek has to use his whole body to hold you still even though you’re still trying to get away. Spencer removes your blindfold and you blink rapidly to counteract the brightness of the dim lights. For someone who has had a blindfold on the entire time you’ve been here, the dim lighting it very bright to you. You look around and lock eyes with Derek who is the one who is holding you. You notice JJ and Emily caring for Melissa, and Spencer comes into view in front of you.

Almost immediately, you begin sobbing. You’re free. You’re safe now. You’re not going to hurt anymore. Every single tear you have been holding back is now coming out and there is nothing anyone can do to stop it. Derek lets you go knowing you’re not going to start swinging which allows Spencer to pull you into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, darling. You’re safe now. You’re okay now.”

You bury your face in Spencer’s chest and sob and wail as loud as you can. Spencer can’t stop his tears from falling, and he looks at the rest of the team. JJ and Emily are in tears, Derek is clenching his jaw tightly, Hotch has a stoic look on his face but is breaking down inside, and Rossi has to look away before he cries.

“We need a medic,” Hotch says into his mic.

By the time the ambulance arrives, your sobs have died down to quiet cries. The men are all arrested and put into separate cop cars, and you’re laid onto a stretcher. Melissa is taken to the hospital in another ambulance, and you’re put into the back of the first one.

“Spencer,” you whimper.

“I’m right here.” He climbs into the back and sits next to you. He grabs your hand and runs his thumb across the back of your hand. “I’m right here. You’re safe now.”

“Please don’t leave me,” you cry.

“I’m not. I’m right here. You’re not alone. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

The entire ride to the hospital is you crying over your innocence being destroyed and Spencer trying not to cry.

x

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[eunxhan]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤE ( 💭🪶 . • ✧ ) 𝖺𝗋𝗍 & 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝟸𝟶𝟸4

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ─── © 🎞 film by EUN.X.HAN⠀

# ⋆ ⩉ ANON𝂅 📰 : Can u do Luka from alien stage x male reader? Nsfw pls, I need that man fucking me to nonsense and provoking me, calling me a good boy 💔

# ⋆ ⩉ EUNA 𝂅 🖋 : Hi dearest, Thank you for requesting! I do hope that I got Luka's character well in this. I'm still rough around the edges when it comes to these where there isn't much screen time on the character.

❛ 𒀭 : DISCLAIMER — NSFW

❛ 𒀭 : READER — Male , You/Yours

❛ 𒀭 : LINKS — Request rules

At Luka's, almost losing to some low-level opponent, he finds himself growing irritated. Normally, he never takes anything so seriously that it gets him this worked up, but today is not one of those days. He chuckles to himself, trying to release some of the pent-up frustration and anger.

That is, until he spots you. Without hesitation, Luka wastes no time and quickly grabs you away from the others, eager to relieve his aggravation. He pulls you close, his breath hot against your ear, "You're coming with me. Now." He says with a cold smile. Luka's grip is firm but not painful as he leads you away from the crowd, his long strides carrying you through the dimly lit corridors. You can feel the tension radiating off of Luka's body, the anger just beneath the surface.

Finally, you both reach a secluded room, and Luka pushes you up against the wall, pinning you with his body. His eyes are dark and intense as he stares down at you, his lips curled "You're going to help me forget about that pathetic loser," he whispered, his voice low. Without waiting for a response, Luka crashes his lips against yours, kissing you with a bruising force. His hands roam over your body, groping and caressing every inch of skin he can reach. You gasps against Luka's mouth, your own hands coming up to tangle in his hair.

Luka breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips down your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin. He grinds his hips against yours, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal. "I'm going to take you right here, right now," his voice thick with desire. "And you're going to let me, because you know how badly I need this. I'm not gonna be gentle." His voice soft but still sends a shiver down your spine.

Your heart races at Luka's words. You know you should be scared, but the thrill of Luka's rough treatment only make you want more. You looks up at Luka with wide, innocent eyes, your lips parted slightly in anticipation. Luka smirks, his hand sliding down to your body possessively. He grips your hip, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. "That's right, just take what I give you," he purrs, his other hand tangling in your hair and tugging your head back. "I'm not satisfied with myself earlier, make me feel special. Can you?"

You gasps again as Luka's lips crash against your own in a bruising kiss. Luka's tongue invades your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as he grinds his hips against yours. You whimper into the kiss, your body melting against Luka's.

Luka breaks the kiss, his chest heaving as he stares down at you with a possessive gaze. The one that he uses almsot to everyone. "Good boy," he praises, his voice gentle with desire. "For someone so weak, so pathetic trying to please me.." He leans in and nips at you bottom lip, soothing the sting with his tongue. "But don't think for a second that I'm done with you," Luka warns, his hand sliding down to grope your ass. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight, until you're screaming my name and begging for more."

Your breath hitches as Luka's words send a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. You arch into his touch, your body craving more of the delicious friction. "Please, Luka," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you." Luka chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Oh, I know exactly what you need," he said, his hand sliding around to cup your hardening length through his pants. "And I'm going to give it to you, over and over again until you're completely ruined for anyone else."

You couldn't help but moan as Luka strokes you through the fabric, your hips bucking involuntarily into Luka's cold touch. "Fuck, Luka," he gasps, your head falling back against the wall. "I can't take much more of this." "You can and you will," Luka said quickly, in a annoyed tone, his hand tightening around your length. "I'm going to push you to your limits and then push you even further. You're going to be begging me to stop, but I won't. I'll keep going until you're a quivering mess, completely at my mercy."

You whine, your body trembling with need. Luka's words are filthy, degrading even, but they only serve to turn you on even more. You have never been with someone who could match your own dark desires, someone who could dominate you so completely. Luka's hand moves away from your wood, leaving you aching and empty. But before you can protest, Luka is ripping open your shirt, the fabric falls away, revealing your pale skin and the smattering of freckles across his chest.

"Fuck, you look so pathetic," Luka laughs, his hands roaming over your body possessively. He pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers until you are writhing against the wall. "I'm going to mark you up, leave bruises all over this perfect skin. Everyone will know that you belong to me" he said, in his similar singing tone. He reaches down and fumbles with the button of your pants, his fingers shaking with impatience. Finally, he manages to undo them and shove them down along with your underwear, exposing your bare flesh to the cool air of the room.

Luka takes a moment to admire the sight before him, he whistled abit, his eyes roaming over your body. He leans down and captures one of your nipples between his teeth, biting and sucking at the sensitive bud until it's hard and aching. His other hand slides between your legs, fingers brushing against your area. He groans at the feeling, his cock twitching in anticipation. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my dick."

Luka pushes two fingers inside you tight heat, pumping them in and out as he continues to tease your nipple with his mouth. You gasps and moans, your hips bucking again against Luka's hand as you seek more friction "Please," you beg, your voice breathy and desperate. "I need you inside me, Luka. I need your cock stretching me open, filling me up."

Luka smirks against yout skin, his fingers still pumping in and out. "Beg for it," he demands, his voice harsh and commanding. "Beg for my cock like the desperate little slut you are."

Your pleas grow louder and more desperate, your body writhing against Luka's as you try to get more of his touch. "Please, Luka," you beg, your voice breaking with need. "I need your cock inside me. I need you to fill me up and fuck me hard. Please, I'm begging you."

Luka's smile grew larger at your words, his cock throbbing almost painfully in his pants. He withdraws his fingers from you, bringing them to his mouth to taste your essence. "So disgusting" he groans, despite his disgusted reaction, his tongue swirling around the digits. "I can't wait to bury my cock in your tight little ass and make you sing for me."

With a swift motion, Luka undoes his own pants, freeing his rigid shaft from its confines. He strokes himself a few times, smearing the precum that beads at the tip. Then, he lines himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock pressing it against your area.

"Careful now" Luka laugh. "Because I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk straight for days." With that, he thrusts forward, burying himself balls-deep in your tight heat in one swift motion. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your nails digging into Luka's shoulders as you adjust to the size of him.

Luka gives you a moment to catch your breath before he starts to move, his hips snapping forward in a brutal pace. You continue to cry out in pleasure, making him roll his eyes as he sets a relentless rhythm, pounding into your willing body with abandon. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with your moans and Luka's grunts of pleasure. "Fuck, you feel so good," Luka groans, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "Your ass is squeezing my cock so tight, like it's trying to milk me dry."

Luka has been growing rough for hours, his touch becoming more demanding and intense with each passing minute. On the other hand, you continue to release more of your essence, your body responding eagerly to Luka's ministrations. Luka's hands roam over your body, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he explores every inch of you. He pinches and tugs at your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through your nervous system. His mouth trails kisses and bites down your neck, marking you as his own.

Your moans and writhes beneath Luka's touch, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. You can feel your arousal building, the heat pooling in your core as Luka drives you closer and closer to the edge. Luka's thrusts become more erratic as he nears his climax, his body tensing with the impending release. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he grunts, his hips slamming against you with bruising force.

You cried out, your own orgasm building rapidly as Luka's cock hits your sweet spot with every thrust. "Yes, Luka," they moan, your voice high and breathy. "Cum inside me, fill me up. I want to feel your hot cum painting my walls." With a final, powerful thrust, Luka buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he releases his load. You scream in ecstasy, your own climax crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body shakes and convulses, milking Luka's cock for every last drop of his cum.

Both of you remain locked together for a long moment, both panting heavily as you come down from your high. Finally, Luka pulls out, a mix of his cum and yours dripping from yoyr well-fucked hole.

"Fuck, that was intense," Luka says, his voice rough and satisfied as he watch you tremble and fell onto him. Making him raise an eyebrow, as if he's questioning you on why you're the one tired. "Steady yourself, you have to take care of me first."

@𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑿𝑯𝑨𝑵. Do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and/or confirmation.

[titania-sleeps]

Woman nutting in man is the only way. We should be like the seahorses. Only then will we reach nirvana

First Rut (Sub!Omega!Yandere x Alpha!Reader)

truly wise words, anon. i would have to heavily agree with you and thus,,, presenting,,, your first rut w adonis where you fuck him crazy and he enjoys it

one Adonis fic down, one more to go!

more works featuring Adonis: Adonis Introduction, Adonis Rides You, Adonis First Heat

warning: nsfw, dom reader, omegaverse, horny af manwhore omega, blowjob, kinda public sex, reader has dick (GN), minors DNI pls

Fuck. The time has come, hasn't it.

You close your eyes and lean against the hallway as the bustling crowd of students passes you. Dragging yourself by the feet, you trudge your way to hide under the staircase. The dingy area is just enough to curb the strongest of your desires, but there is still a gnawing feeling in you that needs to bite, tear, and consume.

It's only two in the afternoon, but you fetch your phone and send a quick text. Turning your phone off, you slide down the wall, not caring as the rugged edges of the wall snag against your neat uniform.

No more than five minutes pass when you hear quickening steps come your way. A sharp turn around the corner and a form that you're very familiar with emerges from the shadows. With a pretty blush on his face and his eyes wide like a doe, Adonis stands there nervously.

"You, uh, called for me," he breathes, his hands clutching the fraying edges of his sweater.

The sweet scent of roses and lemons attacks your senses, and your nails dig into your palm until it's bleeding. Why did you call him over again?

He seems to notice your state of struggle, so he runs to you, his hand on your shoulder as he brings his forehead to touch yours. It's your responsibility to contain yourself, but it's his mistake to get so close to you. Your hand sneaks around and wraps itself around the nape of his neck, bringing him closer.

"I'm burning," you whisper into his pink-tipped ears. His face erupts into a bright red and he stammers that he'll help you, that you can use him to calm down.

You push him away roughly, locking your arms to your side. You're breathing heavily, your vision growing hazy. You look up and he looks hurt, a worried frown on his usually bright countenance.

"Sorry... I"—God, he looks so cute—"didn't mean to...." Your weak apology brings out an immediate sigh of relief from Adonis. He kneels next to you, his hand placed over yours.

You groan, sending him a particularly piercing gaze. Your gaze burns into him, and you're holding yourself back with everything that you have. He stiffens in response, but his hand remains on yours.

"Class ends in an hour," he begins, his eyes flitting about anxiously, "so if you, um, need help..."

His offer hangs in the air, his clammy hand still laying gently over your own.

You don't need to think. You don't hesitate, because if you do, you might end up regretting what you're about to do. Instead, you submit to your instincts and you drag him down with you, your partner in crime.

Your mouth is on his in an instant, your teeth biting into his bottom lip. His lips part from his gasp, and you slip your tongue in, your free hand trailing under his shirt. Your nail scratches his toned stomach, and he moans into your kiss. You drag your nail down at a lazy pace, and your hand meets the tip of his bulge, straining against his pants.

He detaches from you, panic floating in his eyes. "W-wait, we're still at school—" You grab him by the tie, shutting him up with another messy kiss. He's protesting but you flip him so that he's the one against the wall, your hand placed next to his head on the wall.

"Be a good boy," you mumble in between kisses to his jaw and neck. His protests sputter out, replaced by quiet moans and tiny gasps. He's clutching the collar of your shirt tightly, but he doesn't push you away.

You lick the side of his neck, pressing a kiss onto it. "Very good," you praise. You hear him whisper a shy thank you, and you reward him with a kiss to his collarbone.

Your continued kisses have him gasping for more, but you stop abruptly. He whines, begging for you to keep going, but you have a better idea.

Only a second passes when his face is suddenly met with your cock, hard and red. You grin as his eyes widen like saucers, the blatant lust blossoming on his countenance. He's immediately subdued by the scent of it, his mouth opening subconsciously.

"Suck."

A single word is all he needs.

Adonis starts at your tip, lips brushing gently against you. Inspired by you, perhaps, he stamps small kisses down your entire length. Then he drags his tongue from your base, trailing along the underside of your cock, stopping only when he reaches the tip again. Opening his mouth, he takes you in.

You're melting into the warmth of his mouth, his tongue swirling around your sensitive spots, in a manner that is so intimately familiar with you. His dick is still bulging in his pants, begging to be released.

When he opens his eyes to gaze upon your form, his glance is hazy. He pushes his head down your length, your cock hitting the back of his throat. Adonis grimaces and he flinches, but he remains there, letting his throat do the work. He's gagging on you, and you're so close, but you grab him by his hair and pull your dick out.

"Why?" he whines, mouth opening instinctively, ready to take you in again.

You don't respond, and instead, you lift him up. Surprised, he wraps his arms around you.

"What are you doing—" His lips are met with yours again, and you slip his pants off with a quick flick of your fingers. He gasps into your kiss, but his arms around your neck tighten as he brings you even closer to him.

Adonis's cock leaks precum, dripping onto your shirt. Ignoring it, you push him against the wall, holding him up with one arm and using the other to align your cock to his hole. He moans softly, your tip grazing against his opening. Without warning, you slip your whole length in. It goes in without much resistance, and he's grabbing onto you desperately, face buried in the crevice of your neck.

You thrust up into him roughly, both your arms bracing him against the wall. His legs and arms wrap around your torso tightly as he moans into your neck.

"Fuck, you're so tight around me," you mutter. You shove as much of your cock into him as you can, angling it so it hits his prostate. His insides tighten, embracing your length in waves of convulsions.

"Ah ♡... [Y/N] ♡...!" He calls out your name, body quivering as you fuck up into him with reckless abandon. Every thrust is met with a wet moan and a little bit more of his precum trickling out. He's clinging onto you for dear life, a shaky grin dancing on his lips as his tongue hangs loosely.

You breathe into his neck, dragging your tongue along his neck. Your teeth graze his skin, leaving a burning trail of need on its way. He shudders, choked moans escaping from his throat as his eyes roll up in pleasure. You groan, feeling him spasm around your dick as both you and Adonis approach your limits.

"Bite me ♡," he whimpers into your ear, his breath hot. Your hips stutter, thrown off-guard by his plea; a flame unquelled in you roaring into its full life as your guarded desire is aided by the gas he spills.

But you reel yourself back, deciding to fuck him to oblivion so that he forgets. You can't bite him now; he'll be chained to you forever. And more importantly, you can't imagine doing that to the one person who seems to trust you above all else.

So instead, you lick his neck and give to him small, reassuring kisses. If he wishes for you to bite him in the future, you don't think you'll be able to hold yourself back. For the time being, though, you calm the knot that is forming at the base of your cock and thrust wildly into Adonis. Tears stream down his face as he moans your name over and over again; he speaks only your name and you are all that he sees.

"Please," he begs, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck, "please, please, b-bite me, I can't handle it anymore! ♡"

You bite your tongue, stopping yourself. "Be quiet," you whisper to him, increasing the pace. He obeys surprisingly well, swallowing and muffling his noises.

However, he isn't able to hold it in for long.

"I-I'm close, I wanna cum with you, I want you to mark me! ♡" he exclaims, kissing the corner of your lips. His hands scratch against your back, leaving marks to remind you of this day. Adonis's insides clench, and you shove it deep inside of him, head spinning as you release your thick seed into him.

"Bite me now, please, bite me right now!" he cries, face bright red and dick equally as red.

You don't listen to him and he has no choice but to cum at that very moment, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure of being filled. He wiggles in your grasp, nails digging into your back as his dick shoots out white ropes of cum.

His breathing comes out in quivering gasps, but he finds the strength to send you a reassuring smile anyway. He clings onto you, allowing you to lower him onto his feet slowly. Very kind of him, indeed, yet you're still aching for a bit more.

"Uh, do you want to... come over tonight?" Adonis asks, a pretty flush on his face. "Of course, if you don't want to, that's okay too, I know you're busy and—"

You lean in, caging him with one arm. He blushes, closing his eyes. Chuckling, you give him a flick to his forehead.

"Yeah, I'll be there tonight."

He opens his eyes, palm on his forehead, his pants still on the floor. A lovestruck grin is plastered ever-so lovingly on his lips.

not my best work. it only goes up from here?

-> masterlist

[sceletaflores]

thinking about needy art...just so desperate for you :((( always so horny and riled up :((( he needs you so bad he can't help it :(((

we love you girl!!!!!! pls don't die!!!!!!!!

-🧶

anon i was literally just thinking about this omfg we're so connected it's crazy (this lowkey wandered into a bit of puppy!art territory, @fawnnpaws your influence is too great <333)

and you're SO right!!! in my mind this is so married art coded. that man literally worships the ground you walk on, there's nothing he wouldn't do for his WIFE. the woman with HIS last name. the woman that wears HIS ring on your finger. you're his whole world.

you're cooking dinner when the front door creaks open, the sound of art dropping his keys and bag clear from where you're stood at the stove.

he's always a keyed up, horny monster after practice, so you're not surprised when two strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. art clings to you like a second skin, pressing his chest to your back and hooking his chin over your shoulder, a sweet "hey baby," muttered into your hair.

you hum, not looking away from the pasta coming to a boil in front of you. "have a good practice?"

art nods, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling your familiar scent. "missed you," he says, voice going all light and airy. it makes you smile, stirring the pasta calmly as art starts grinding against your ass in small circles. you wonder if he even knows he's doing it or if he's more gone than you first thought.

"i did so good today, you'd be so proud of me," he rambles, brushing his lips over your neck as he speaks. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

"yeah? hope you worked up an appetite, it's almost ready." your tone is overly casual, like you're not soaking your panties at the feel of art's thick cock through the thin fabric of your sweats. but it's all part of the game, ignoring him only works him up more.

"i could eat," he pants against your skin, a pointed roll of his hips pushes you closer to the stove. "god, i couldn't stop thinking about you." he groans, finally done pretending that it's dinner he cares about. he trails wet kisses down your neck, his hands slipping up under your shirt to paw at the lacy cups of your bralette.

the pot's water snaps and pops in warning, threatening the bare expanse of your stomach. you push art's hands down but he's not deterred, dropping them to knead at the meat of your hips.

"let's go to bed," he suggests into the crook of your neck, his breathing starting to get a little faster as he grinds against you with a purpose.

it's tempting, but you're not done cooking yet, and you know this won't take long.

"no," you say dismissively, turning the heat down to let the sauce pan on another burner slow to a simmer.

art whines, nuzzling deeper into your neck. his hand slides around, slipping between your legs to rub your cunt through your bottoms. "please?"

you sigh contently at his touch, letting your head drop to his shoulder. you let yourself get lost in him for a few seconds before you push his hand away again and cast your gaze back to the food, "no."

"the couch?" he tries, "it's just right there, in the living room. i can eat you out, i'll make you feel so good."

you bite your lip, stifling a smile at his needy begging. you bob your head side to side lightly, a considering noise passing through your lips before you deny him for the third time, "no."

art swallows, his breath getting shallow. "right here, i could eat you out right here," he rambles, his hips speeding up. you can feel the wetness of his pre-come leaking through his own shorts to seep into yours. "i could fuck you right here, against the counter."

you hum noncommittally, adding more dried oregano. it's quiet, just the sound of art's ragged breathing and the hiss of the boiling water. art takes it upon himself to fill the silence.

"i could," he takes a shuddering breath, "we don't have to fuck, i could just eat you out. i could sit by your feet, you don't have to do anything. i can...i could, i could use your leg."

you almost give in, his sweet voice begging you to let him get his mouth on you too much. you don't have to see his face to know he's gone red and flush, embarrassed but too worked up to stop.

"you want me to abandon dinner because, why? you can't keep your dick down? i'm busy, art."

art’s breath hitches, his hands trembling as they grip your hips. "i’m sorry," he breathes out, though you know he’s anything but. the apology only makes him grind harder, chasing any scrap of attention you might throw his way. “please,” he whimpers, his voice cracking. “i just— i need it so bad. please, baby.”

you click your tongue in disapproval, shaking your head as you turn back to the stove, stirring the sauce with a slow, deliberate motion. “you’re such a mess, art. can’t even wait until dinner’s done before you start acting like a desperate slut, can you?”

art shudders behind you, his grip tightening on your waist as his hips jerk involuntarily. “i’m sorry,” he gasps out for the second time. “i just—fuck, i can’t help it. please, let me—”

"no, if you want to come in here and hump my leg like a desperate puppy, than that's how you're going to come."

art’s whimper is pitiful, his hips stuttering against you, driven by nothing but raw desire. he’s practically drooling, his breath hot and uneven against your neck as he desperately grinds himself against your thigh.

“please, please,” he chants, the word a broken prayer on his lips, but you don’t miss the way he shudders under your cruel tone, his body trembling with anticipation.

“god, you’re pathetic,” you say through a condescending laugh, “you can’t even control yourself for a second, can you? always so eager to make a mess. i should make you clean it up with your tongue.”

art comes in his boxers with a broken whine. the timer goes off a couple seconds later.

[flcwermimi]

❛ TAP INTO THE VOID STATE / SHIFT INTO YOUR DR THROUGH LUCID DREAMING ❜

Okay I believe this is one the easiest method if we stay consistent to the routine ( well the routine isn't that long y'all are just lazy to do it and later you will cry about saying ' I will never have my dream life , void is fake , vlogger are lying and blah blah ' I know u are all frustrated overwhelmed defeated by your failures but persist isn't living the life you've dream is worth?

— okay no more motivational speaking I guess you all know what is best for you

What is lucid dreaming?

‣ Lucid dreaming is when you’re conscious during a dream. This typically happens during rapid eye movement (REM) sleep, the dream-stage of sleep ( though my thoughts on this are you can do it anytime you don't need to be in REM STAGE )

‣ During a lucid dream, you’re aware of your consciousness. It’s a form of metacognition, or awareness of your awareness. Often, lucid dreaming also lets you control what happens in your dream.Some people report that lucid dreams feel very vivid and real, while others say they feel a bit hazier. Others say their lucid dreams feel different every time.

Why lucid dreaming?

‣ So I know most of y'all in this community find it too hard believe in the void/reality shifting and no matter how hard you try to believe the vlogger and anon you can't because of failures and other outer forces which has rooted in your subconscious conscious and unconscious mind since your childhood.But you all are very familiar with lucid dreaming you all have experienced it and even studied it thorough diffrent phase of your life so you know it's not fake

— remember every method you try is right you don't need perfect void concept , a perfect method, a perfect subliminals or perfect space to enter the void or shift it's all within you - believe that you're doing right trust yourself and everything is on your command

' let's start with the steps '

🤍 : first keep a dream journal and jot down your previous dream and if you don't remember your previous dream script a dream which is alike your everynight dream

🗒️ : Listen to this subliminal at least two hours a day ( you can do 1 hour in morning when you wake up and one hour in the night when are about to fall asleep & also when you're listening to subliminals you can just affirm that 'you all aware when you're dreaming/ you can lucid dream on your command/ you can lucid dream easily and effortlessly every night)

🌬️ : Do reality checks every 1-2 hours day ( counting your finger, pinching nose , bitting tounge)

What to do at night first?

→ Lay down in star fish position

→ Start counting & affirm [ I will be lucid dreaming tonight ] till you fall asleep

What to do when u are lucid dreaming ' actually '?

→ Many people when they are aware of dreaming get's excited and start creating a portal which cause the dream to collapse or slip away and the end either they wake up or fall asleep so if you want to not end up here follow the steps written below:

Now u are aware that you're finally lucid dreaming so don't excited or get scared every individual have different dream's so what u will doing first is the reality check ' count your fingers & remember u never have 10 fingers in your dream' - touch the grass or even bite your tongue

After doing reality check affirm 4-5 times ' stabilize dream & increase lucidity ' this will help you remain balanced

Now it's time to create Portal in your dream' there must be some kind door or windows ( it can also look like a cave or something werid) so u will enter the door/ window/ portal slowly and u will affrim either what u want [ if u want to enter the Void - I am in the void/ and if u want to shift - I am in my DR ] That's it congrats u did it

Okay so some people don't have doors/windows they also have people together them u will just gonna say to them take me to to void or to your DR and pls😭 don't try to control your dream too much your intrusive thought might win & u can create a portal itself like can make a door with anything!!

That's all you all got this luv y'all 🤍

[hyunjuenthusiast]

Pls pls write hyunju x f!reader strapping her for the first time and then reader making sure she's feeling good + praise kink

I know yall liked my last smutty thing I wrote but this one makes me nervous 😭 but I'll do my best for you anon🫶🏻

Hyun-ju x femreader! Smut. Not an adult? Don't read 🔞🔞🔞🔞

"That's it." Hyun-ju moans as you suckle her clit. She looks down to watch you, her eyes filled with lust. Her hand reaches into your hair to keep you there, never wating to separate you from her pussy ever again.

Her hand grabs a handful of your hair as you put two of your fingers inside her, suckling her clit. "Fuck baby! That feels so fucking good." Her head tilting back in pleasure.

You pull back just before she can cum, and she quickly looks back down at you, her grip on your hair tightening, making you giggle. "Shhhh, I'll get you there, but I don't want this to end just yet...you taste different."

Hyun-ju tenses. "D-Different?" Her hand eases the grip on your hair, making you realize she though it was a bad thing. "Different, Hyun-ju. Not bad. You taste...sweet. So sweet!"

You lean back down, moaning as you take her clit into your mouth. She relaxes, closing her eyes as she tries not to cum so quickly. "B-Baby if you keep d-doing that I'll cum!"

You only double your efforts, putting two of your fingers back inside her, curling them, hitting that new spot she hasn't discovered yet.

"Oh fuck! Yes yes yes yes yes just like that!"

Hyun-ju's hand tightens in your hair, her hips grinding against your mouth as she reaches her release.

"Fuck" She says as she clenches around your fingers. "T-That was...s-so much better then before." She says breathlessly, making you smile as you finally pull away from her. She surprises you when she immediately leans up and kisses you.

"Mmm you're right, I am sweet." She says, looking at you with a small smirk.

"I have something that can make you feel good, if you want to try it..." you say leaning down to kiss her neck, then pulling back to look at her. She gives you a soft but confused look, making you smirk.

You get up, walking to the dresser and opening the bottom drawer. You get out the strap. Her eyes widen slightly. "I got it when you first discharged after surgery... but we don't have to use it if you don't want to."

"I-I want to, Y/n." She says softly. "M-Maybe just...g-go slow..."

You walk back over to the bed, straddling her again, and sitting the strap down on the bed beside the both of you. You lean down, kissing her once more. Hyun-ju slides one hand to your hair, and the other to your hip.

You pull back slightly. "We'll go at your pace, Hyun-ju. I don't want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. If you don't like it, we'll stop, okay?" You tell her softly, making her nod in return. "Okay."

You grab the strap again, putting it on. "Have you ever... penetrated yourself?" Hyun-ju blushes at the question but nods. "I-I've been exploring... I wanted to make sure it felt good." She says timidly.

You lean down a bit, your mouth coming down next to her ear. "Does it feel good, beautiful? Hmm? Does it feel good when you rub your pretty pussy?" Hyun-ju whimpers in return.

"Can you show me?" You ask. She looks up at you, biting her lip. Her hand slowly slides down, she's already wet from when you ate her out, but your dirty talk to making her wanton and hot.

"That's it pretty girl, rub that pretty pussy." She moans, adding a bit more pressure. You watch as she gently puts only one of her fingers inside herself, making you tease. "Tsk tsk tsk, only one? How will we ever get this to fit if you only use one?"

Hyun-ju whines as she adds a second finger. She brings her other hand over and stimulates her clit. "That's it beautiful, make yourself feel good, let me see." You say softly.

Once she starts grinding her hips again, you know it's time. "Stop," you say firmly, getting her attention. She stops but whimpers at the loss. "You're not cumming unless I'm inside you. Put your hands up beside your head, yes that's it, and open your legs... good girl." You say making her head fuzzy.

You slowly start to rub the head of the cock against her, teasing her by adding pressure to her clit. "Y/n p-please." She begs. You smile. "Tell me what you want, pretty girl. I'll give it to you."

She hesitates, suddenly shy. "Come on beautiful, tell me how you want me to make you feel good, you deserve it." You say softly.

"I-I want you...I want you to fuck me, please." She asks with a blush. You smile, positioning the head at her entrance. "You have to tell me if it hurts, or if you want to stop, okay? Can you do that for me?" She nods.

You slowly start to sink into her, stopping a few times so she can adjust. "Is this okay?" You ask, concerned as her eyes squeeze shut. "Y-Yes, please don't stop, j-just keep going slow." You do exactly as she asks. Going slow, and stopping when it bottoms out, giving her time to get used to the new sensations.

"How are feeling beautiful, hmm?" You ask sweetly. "S-So full" She says, a little put of breath already. "You're such a good girl Hyun-ju, your doing so good." She whines in response.

You slowly slide out a little, pushing back in after a second and then repeating it. She quickly holds your hands. "You're already taking me so well, pretty girl. Look at yourself, look as I take you." Hyun-ju looks down her body to see the cock disappearing inside her each thrust. "She squeezes your hands and lets out a beautiful moan as you speed up just a little.

"Y-You're so deep fuck!" She moans. You chuckle softly, letting go of her hands. You reach over to play with her breasts. She starts to pant, meeting each of your thrusts. "J-Just like that baby! Just l-like that, don't stop!" She says loudly. You keep your pace, making sure she feels the pleasure she deserves.

She gasps. "Y/n right there! Right there yes! Don't you dare f-fucking stop!" You giggle, not stopping and the cock kisses her g-spot with each thrust.

"Y/n! Fuck! You're going to make me cum!" She moans. You reach one of your hands down, rubbing tight circles on her clit. "You're such a good girl for me, Hyun-ju, I know you can do it, I know you can cum for me. Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me!"

Hyun-ju throws her head back as she reaches her climax. You keep thrusting, wanting her orgasm to last as long as possible.

When she whines from the overstimulation, you gently pull out and take the strap off. She's panting. You lean down to kiss her sweaty forehead. "How was that, beautiful?" You ask her softly.

"S-So good, I-I...y-you made me feel so good," She whines. "I can't believe I've gone my whole life without that, w-we have to do this every day!" She says with a breathless giggle, making you respond with one of your own.

"That can definitely be arranged." You say, your eyes practically having hearts in them. She seems to remember something and quickly sits up, reaching for your panties, making you chuckle. "Where are those naughty hands going, hmm?" You ask. Hyun-ju looks at you "its your turn, I want to make you feel good too."

You give her a soft smile. "You did make me feel good, Hyun-ju. Seeing you enjoy yourself was the best pleasure I've had. This was about you." You gently get up. "I'll be right back, don't move."

You return with a washcloth and a glass of water, cleaning her up gently. "I love you, Hyun-ju, you did so good, I'm so proud of you, do you need anything?" You ask, caressing her cheek.

She scoots over, and you take the hint. Laying down next to her. "Just you." She says softly, you both fall asleep on each other's arms.

.....I hope this is good😭 but here's a little something while I'm working on a part 2 to my other story!

[always-just-red]

Hello! Y'know that one line of Sylus talking about his muscles saying "They're not real. But they move." The way he casually admits to not being entirely human

Could I request something angsty where Sylus has an uncanny valley aura about him where you just FELL something's not right and Sylus is all :( cause he can't make the MC feel comfortable around him but it's not like he can fix it either

Just a quick little fic for this whilst I work on a longer fic! Realised like two paragraphs in that I had the opportunity to do the most evil thing ever, so I did!! 😇 I'm really proud of this one guys pls show it some love! And thanks for the prompt, anon! You are my co-conspirator in all this evilness, mwa ha ha DISCLAIMER: This work does not reflect the feelings of the author, who would die for Sylus! Wants to hold Sylus's face in her hands and tell him he is everything good and pure in this dark, cynical chess game we call life! 😎✨

Monster

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: A Deepspace Hunter's instincts never lie...

Genre: angst oh my GOSH so much angst

Warnings/Additional tags: f!reader, AU I guess as this is a different spin on an existing scene, *passes you some tissues* here you might need these! 🥰

| Word count: 800 | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You know monsters.

Earth-shattering. Sky-shearing. Teeth, reckless: always striving for something soft to sink into. To make a home in and to eviscerate. You’ve been grazed by it— kissed by that violence more times than you can count— and you are not soft anymore; there isn’t space for it. There are scars and then there’s armour, the kind you carry with you, the kind you couldn’t shed if you tried, and you haven’t tried, because why would you?

Horror isn’t loud and cataclysmic, it’s quiet. It’s those few seconds before your Hunter’s watch signals a fluctuation of Metaflux. A premonition, trained, or maybe just human instinct, raw and vulnerable: something is wrong, here. That prickle on your skin— the tip of that claw, raked, snaked down your spine. You feel it whenever a Wanderer lurks in the shadows, or beneath a stretch of water that’s unfathomably deep and far, far too still.

Sometimes, you feel it when you look at Sylus.

I know monsters.

Before you, a fragment of a mural tells a very old story, and beside you, a red-eyed man is thinking of flowers. It’s late, and the museum is quiet. You look at the fragment’s centre, where a female warrior is plunging a blade through a dragon’s heart. “Look,” you say, nodding at the figure with a half-smile. “My predecessor.”

Sylus hums thoughtfully. “What makes you say that?”

“Because that looks like a standard Tuesday to me. Some things never change, huh?”

But other things do. With a chuckle, Sylus draws closer to you. The rumble of his laughter is warm and familiar, and his hand is near yours as he bends to examine the mural. He wants you to take it, to thread your fingers through his like you do when you resonate, when you need his power and he needs yours, except neither of you need it now. Why, then?

You know. Of course you know.

The man is all softness, voice and gaze like an afternoon sun in late summer that lulls you to sleep with thick, golden light. Always trying to evoke a dream. It’s weakness, it’s the dragon on the mural with a split heart, bleeding, and you’ll never understand why Sylus wears his on his sleeve.

It’ll be the death of him, one day. It’s set in stone. Right here.

When Sylus touches you— when the tip of his finger catches yours and makes an honest, desperate request— you don’t pull away. Something inside tugs at you, warns you, tells you a monster without a sword in its chest is one that can bite. What colour of blood would your hands prefer? His? Your own?

Your veins are cold and something is wrong, but no, you don’t pull away, because Sylus knows monsters too. Some declare themselves with twisted horns, razorlike wings and a long, barbed tail. Others declare themselves with something as subtle as a touch, withdrawn.

When Sylus steps away from you, that gash of dread closes up inside you. Heals like his wounds: no mess, no scar, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

He’s had a long time to look at the mural, and he smiles wistfully at the woman at its centre. “Some things never change,” he echoes, and it sounds as though there’s blood in his lungs, his throat, and that he has to swallow it down to say anything at all. It must sting.

“All in a day’s work for a Deepspace Hunter,” you joke flatly. You’re not even sure Sylus hears it.

Both of you stare at your fragment of history: an execution, a liberation. A matter of perspective. “Maybe…” Sylus begins, but then thinks better of it.

“Maybe what?”

He’s seeing something you don’t.

“Maybe what, Sylus?”

He spares you a glance. “The pose,” he says, indicating the warrior. “It’s ambiguous. Perhaps she isn’t slaying the beast, she could be—”

“Saving it?”

You’re considering a new perspective. Tapping a finger against your cheek as you lock eyes with your history— that elusive dream— ever oblivious to what’s behind you:

There’s a look of sheer, infinite longing— a gaze that’s been empty of you for too long, so sick of starvation, and determined to have its fill in the few, fleeting moments it can. It’s ravenous: dangerous, sharp, and irrevocably yours, if you would only turn around.

There are teeth and claws, but they’re all of them tame, and that makes them soft, doesn’t it? You could trust them on your skin. Turn around.

You do, and you are not the girl from the mural who tucked wildflowers into his hair and who sung him a song he still hears in his sleep. Sylus’s heart aches.

You are the girl from the mural who’s slaying a dragon, because it’s the oldest story, the only story.

Your eyes harden.

“Who would pull out a sword to save a monster?”

[zorrasucia]

❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜ carmy berzatto pls

Hi Anon! ✨

Of course! This is some established relationship naughtiness at The Bear. I hope you enjoy it! 💜

It was one of the first days of fall, and probably one of the last warm days of the year. And so, you were enjoying the weather: wearing your favorite dress and cleaning your apartment with the window open to let the soft breeze in. Your phone rang, the name on the screen read Sydney 🐻.

"Hi, Syd," you greeted her with a smile.

"Hey, uh," she hesitated, the sound of a hectic kitchen in the background. "Remember you told me I could call you when Carmy was being a pain in the ass? I know it was a joke and, you know, I'm not his babysitter and you're not either. Like, I know that. But, uh-" she had a nervous tone in her voice.

"Syd, it's okay," you reassured her. "It's Saturday, I bet things are insane in the kitchen."

"You have no idea," she let out a nervous chuckle. "I seriously wouldn't even be calling if I-"

Syd was right, that you weren't Carmy's babysitter but you could probably talk some sense into him. Besides, you didn't have work today - and they'd probably give you leftovers for your troubles.

"Hey. I'm on my way," you said. "Don't worry."

"Okay, okay," Syd sighed. "I'll, uh, I'll try to chill in the meantime."

You grabbed your keys and bag... You suddenly had a sinful idea and grinned.

~

You walked through the back door, avoiding servers and chefs, mumbling 'behind' every so often like you'd seen the rest of them do. You could make out Carmy's hoarse voice between all the noise.

"This steak is fucking dead! Refire. Chefs, wake the fuck up!"

"Hey, Carm," you called him.

He turned to look at you, eyes wide and fiery. "What are you doing here?" he rasped.

"Do you have a sec?" you said with a polite smile.

"Not really. I-" he looked disoriented and frantic.

Syd stepped in, looking determined. "I'll handle it. Go."

Carmy led you inside his office, exasperation radiating from him.

"Why are you-?" he started.

"Uh, Syd called," you replied, giving him a knowing look as he closed the door behind you.

"Fuck."

"Yeah. She said you were being a pain in the ass," you leaned on his desk.

"I- uh-" he hesitated, then covered his face, red from the heat of the kitchen but also from anger and shame. "She- she was being nice. I'm being an asshole."

You sat on his desk and sighed. "Thought so."

"Huh?" he tilted his head. You had caught him by surprise.

You gestured for him to come closer, so you could talk softer and look him in the eye.

"Listen, I know it gets super loud in your head, and you get overwhelmed and you lash out," you had seen it happen once or twice. "You need to step down when that happens."

"Syd-" he avoided your gaze. "Yeah, Syd has suggested it."

"So?" you cupped his face and tilted it towards you. "Can you do that? Can you let go for ten minutes and calm the fuck down?"

He blinked hard, stressed.

"I don't know," he confessed after a moment of consideration.

"I think you can, Carm," you encouraged him. Then, you put the second, more inappropriate part of your plan in motion. You grabbed his chef whites, and brought him closer, opening your legs to accommodate him. Then you whispered: "I'm not wearing any underwear. Thought you'd like to know."

Carmy stared at you, mouth agape.

"We're in the middle of service-"

"Listen," you gestured at the door. There were no loud bangs or screams, just the normal bustle of a kitchen; if anything it was quieter than when you first entered. "Syd is handling it. The rest of the kitchen is functioning. The sky isn't falling," you grabbed his face with both hands. "Now, will you just fuck me?"

"Shit."

He leaned down to kiss you hard, all tongue and teeth, biting a little. You ran your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer, crossing your ankles behind his waist.

"I need this to be fucking fast," he rasped against your lips.

"I know," you smiled while untying his apron and unbuckling his belt.

The mere indecency of showing up to Carmy's place of work planning to fuck him had made you wet enough to take him that very moment.

"Condoms?" he asked.

You took one out of your bag and handed it to him, palming his cock impatiently through his trousers.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to pull out his cock. He grabbed the back of your knees to pull you closer to the edge of his desk, something feral about him. You bunched up your dress all the way up to your hips, confirming that you were indeed bare under it. Carmy's eyes widened.

"Shit..." his fingers touched your drenched pussy. "You planned this, the whole thing."

You nodded proudly, biting on your lip when he entered you.

"Can't believe you showed up, in the middle of service-" he murmured. "Jesus... To fuck me."

"Desperate times," you touched your forehead to his, his gaze intense. He bottomed out and you covered his mouth to muffle a whine. "See? I think you need it."

That was the tiny push he craved.

He fucked you mercilessly, forceful thrusts while he grabbed your thighs hard, keeping you on the edge of the desk, right where he wanted you. His rhythm was frantic, half out of urgency and half out of anger. You kept your hand on his mouth, silencing the tirade of curses and primal groans he was blurting. Your eyes were on him, breathy pleas leaving your lips.

"Give it to me. It's okay. Please. I need you. Please," you weren't sure if he could actually hear it all but you couldn't stop, not when you were so close to your release. Your pussy tightened around his cock, pulsing.

His grip on you faltered, eyebrows raising as he looked at you for confirmation.

You nodded, eyes half lidded in ecstasy. "Let go, baby. Let go."

He gave you a few desperate thrusts, your palm vibrating with the sound of his moans as he came.

Suddenly, the room felt eerily quiet, the only sounds that mattered were Carmy's panting and your heart's beating. You lowered your hand from his mouth to his chest.

"Shit," he closed his eyes, collecting himself.

"Mhmm," you swayed in your seat, moving his softening cock as you did so. "Better?"

He nodded, a little sheepish. "Thank you."

"Hey. Can't do this every time," you said honestly. The likelihood of you coming to fuck some sense into him on weekdays was low to none. "But why don't you think about this next time you're about to lose it?" you suggested.

"You want me to get hard while running the expo?" he chuckled. His heartbeat was slowing down.

"I mean, if that's what it takes to get you to step down and chill, sure," you teased.

While the idea of Carmy fucking his hand while thinking of you was appealing, it seemed a little impractical to do at the restaurant.

"Might just take a smoke break," he offered. "Save the fucking for when I get home."

"Deal," you kissed him and tapped his cheek gently. "Now, come on, get out there."

He got dressed and ready at a dizzying speed, taking time to rearrange your dress and kiss you one last time before returning to the kitchen. He left the door ajar, and you peeked just in time to see him give an apologetic nod to Syd and ask her to continue running the expo. It was a start. You were satisfied.

[killerlookz]

hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!

Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)

Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein

description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.

content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference this fic contains rpf, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)

/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/

Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.

You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.

You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.

"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.

"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.

"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.

"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.

"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.

"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."

You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.

"It's just my roommate-"

Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.

He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.

It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.

There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.

You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.

Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.

"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.

"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."

A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.

There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.

Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.

"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."

"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.

"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."

"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.

"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.

"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"

You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.

It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.

You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.

"Does that mean you're coming back here?"

"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."

A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.

He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.

So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.

Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.

Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?

But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.

A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,

"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,

"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.

"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.

The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.

The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"

"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"

You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.

Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.

He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,

"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"

Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.

And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.

"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."

"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.

"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."

"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.

"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."

He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.

He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.

"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.

The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand

"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)

"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.

Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.

He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.

If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.

Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.

A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)

You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.

/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/