#bcs my teeth are itching and I need to BITE HIM

[raksh-writes]

I've had MCU fatigue for years at this point, can’t remember when was the last time I was actually excited for something (DS:MoM probably) but I've watched the trailer for the new Captain America a couple weeks ago and now the Thuderbolts teaser that Just came out like an hour ago and jendkrmjdnrkfnfurjr

OH MY FUCKING GOD ARE WE BACK????????

This feels like having The Winter Soldier glory days back and Im here for it. Gimme gimme gimme *insert grabby hands x100*

[teddybeartoji]

mickeyyyyy *smiles too wide* i would love to hear ur thoughts about snow leopard hybrid!gojo if ur up for it,,,the words themselves just itched something in my brain

MOSS<333333333 i love ur smile btw I AM KINDA NEW TO HYBRIDS OKAY BUT THIS ONE IS JUST SOOOOOOO MMMMMMM also wait here is the twt art that made me lose it (everybody say thank u logan we love u logan for showing it to me) AAAAAAAAAAA IT'S SOOO FUCKING GOOOOOD HE LOOKS SOSO PERFCECT it suits him so well my brain is all mushy already

geto locking him out bc he purred too loudly fuuuuuuuuckkkkkkk he's so cute i want him. like he'd be sooooo clingy right?????? always trying to settle down in your lap always trying to get you to pet him to scratch his ears and he ALWAYSSS PURRS SOOOO LOUDLYY although i would never lock him out sugu is weak for that smh... i think he'd kind of like it when you played with his tail too?? usually felines don't like that too much but since it's you - he loves that shit. he likes to twirl it around your arm and his eyes go so big whenever that makes you laugh GOOD GODDDDDDDD look this is a full on ramble i hope something makes sense too i'm sorry for that i just🥴🥴🥴

oh my god he probably waits for you by the door when you come home, biting down on his tail just like in the picture?????? i'm kinda torn between whether he'd be good while you're gone or would he act up bc i mean it's satoru. the ultimate brat. so maybe he does scratch the couch a little or something? to show how upset he is over you leaving him at home:(((( you can't stay mad either bc c'mon look at him:((((((((((((((((((((((( god i wanna pet him sm

he probably likes to take care of you in his own way too right? like groom you? is that the word? he'd want to lick you, clean you, make sure you're all relaxed and feeling good after a long day. he's such a good boy:(((( he loves you:((((((((

oh and obviously he's super fucking clingy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i mean that's canon for him anyway but now even more. he always wants to drape himself in your lap, his tail curling around you like i said before too. please scratch his ears please please please:((( when you're trying to cook he's glued to your side, nuzzling into your skin - whether it's into your neck or just your back, he just wants to be close to you:(((

he also likes to nip at your skin!!!! there have been a few times where he bites down just a tad bit too hard and it drew blood but it was an accident!!!! he never wants to hurt you he felt so bad after that:(( went at sat in the corner with his tail between his legs:(((((( but you of course forgive him and coax him back to you with some belly rubs

after that he learned how to be more gentle, though. so now he often just fakes biting you just to hear you laugh or playfully scold him. when he does sink his teeth in - maybe your arm or your thigh; he always keeps eye-contact.

when you're just lazing around - reading a book, playing a video game - he's always next to you. always. maybe every once in a while he decides to take a nap, belly up, paws kind of folded and oh, he looks adorable like that. he's just a big kitty okay. btw he's always touching you. clingyclingyclingy. even when he's sleeping, he has to be touching you in some way.

SUGGESTIVE! gets upset when you come home and you have other smells on you. especially other mens' smells. maybe your co-worker hugged you goodbye or something and now his cologne sticks to your skin and satoru can't have that. he's just immediately pawing at you - begging for your attention and when you grant him that, he's jumping on you, pushing you down and licking over whereever the stench is. after he deems you clean, he just rubs himself against you - his way of marking you. you don't know that though... you just think he really missed you...... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

can hybrids go into heat............................? LOOK I'M NEW HERE OKAY I NEED TO LEARN. if they do.............. if he does............ oh boy... you need to get something to surpress those bc he will lose it. he's humping your bed, he's humping your pillow, he's sniffing your clothes. your underwear. sometimes he's pawing at your dresser, looking for more clothes but mostly his target is the dirty laundry basket....................................... everything goes when you're out....... he's gonna make a big big mess..............................................🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 ok i think i need to stop myself here otherwise i'll really lose it........................

moss i need to hear your thoughts on this. NEEEED TO HEAR THEM. DESPERATELY NEED TO. if u know about hybrids u can teach me. i'm..... in it now......................... heheheheheh this was so fun i'm sorry it took a min love but yeah i can't wait to hear your ideas aaaaaaaaaa I LOVE YOIUUUU I HOPE YOU HAD A GOOD DAY MY BELOVED<3333

[philistiniphagottini]

Heard you were in a WuWa mood 👀 what about a one shot for Jiyan or Geshu, the scenario being that they are so stressed and tired that they're taking it out on the soldiers. Chubby/curvy reader decides that she will have no more of that, then she rides them to blow off some steam (totally not me projecting bc of how stressed I am with college) Obv creampie is a must, u know me bestie.

(Havent been able to chat tnx to college and workload 😔)

Hi Bestie!!! I hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself and not letting yourself get too stressed. I always enjoy seeing you and knowing that you are well. Thank you for indulging in my brain rot as always! And I know what you mean, I need to blow off steam as well. So I chose Geshu Lin as the victim. Thanks for letting me borrow your man so I could write this depraved sin. Hope you enjoy <3

cw. smut, penetrative sex, cowgirl, choking, creampie, female reader, chubby reader, minors DO NOT interact

“Fuck, you are so tight.”

A sharp hiss whistled through Geshu Lin’s clenched teeth as your slick pussy fluttered around him, getting tighter as his filthy words rang in your ears. A salacious moan bubbled up your throat as a pleasant tingle raced along your back, pooling in the pit of your stomach as you continued to leisurely bounce in the general’s lap. The wet seam of your cunt drooled around him, greedily trying to swallow more of his dizzyingly thick girth as beads of your arousal dripped down the sides of his swollen length in thick rivulets. You sucked down a deep breath, throat bobbing and tongue feeling like lead in your mouth as you peeled it off the roof of your mouth long enough to force out a response. 

“Shut up General” you bit back.

Your voice hardly held any weight with how breathless it was. A coy smile tilted his lips, strong hands curling around your plump hips as he pulled you along to the cant of his hips. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin made your ears burn red hot, the sinful noises permeating the stuffy air of your bedroom as your voice echoed off the walls. Your thick thighs clamped tighter around Geshu Lin’s waist as he bucked up into you, your creamy folds splitting apart around him as the soft petals opened up like a delicate flower in bloom. He watched the sway of your sumptuous body with a lidded gaze, the hypnotic sway of your fat tits captivating as his teeth itched to bite down on the pillowy, flushed tips of your pert nipples. You raked your nails along his chest, feeling him moving intimately beneath your skin as his cock carved a deeper path inside of you, until you could feel a soft bump forming in your round belly. A warm chuckle breezed past his lips as your body trembled along with the violent shake of the bed frame. 

“And I thought I was the one that needed to blow off steam” he commented. 

His words dug under your skin and it made your blood simmer hotly in your veins. The hot knot in your stomach twisted tighter as his large, calloused hands slipped around to your backside, grabbing at the scruff of your arse as generous amounts of skin spilled between the splayed digits of his fingers. Your long lashes fluttered over your warm cheeks, bare skin prickling with beads of sweat as your pulse wavered in your ears. Your head felt dizzy as stars wavered in your vision, every white hot nerve in your body tingling like a live wire as your body was pushed higher and higher with ecstasy. Geshu Lin’s words rang in your ears like a chime from a shimmering bell. Fuck, you really didn’t realise how much you needed this too. You had originally dragged the General away because of his snappy behaviour recently, his mounting stress so high he was starting to bare his teeth at his own soldiers. You thought you were doing him a favour to help him blow off some steam but actually…it was helping you both to blow off steam. 

You choked on a hiccup of pleasure as you felt the fat, weeping head of Geshu Lin’s cock resting against your cervix, the slit drooling with sticky threads that webbed between your plush walls as he throbbed with an eagerness to fill your plump body until you were completely stuffed. Your nails dug crescent shaped marks into his searing flesh as you swallowed the budding saliva on your tongue, drool clinging to the corners of your kiss swollen lips at the mouth watering sight of your general sprawled beneath you. Geshu Lin couldn’t tear his eyes off the place where your bodies were joined in ferevent rapture, the muscles in his arms flexing as he bounced you harder on his dick, rutting up into you like a wild, untamed beast as he revelled in the confusion of your bodies pressed and tangled in bliss. His eyes sparkled with mirth as you felt your silky walls start to clench, your face flushed with unadulterated bliss as you danced on that familiar, crumbling precipice. You bumped your hips against him, toes curling into the soles of your feet as you were taken for the ride of your life. It felt like your bones were going to turn to dust from the sparking flares of friction created between you, the aching nub of your clit swollen and throbbing with want as you tasted the desire lingering in the back of your throat. The warm hug of your pussy clenched around him and Gehsu Lin had to fight to keep his eyes uncrossed. 

“Fuck” he groaned, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. “Move just like that pretty girl.”

Your fingers crept along his chest, the tips tingling with numbness as you rested your hands along the hollow of his throat. He shuddered beneath you as he buried his boiling cock in your depths, his tacet mark glowing faintly when you cupped your hands around his neck. His eyes flickered up to your face, seeing the silent question lingering on the tip of your tongue as you gave his throat an experimental squeeze. He gave you a firm nod before his head tipped back, exposing more of his throat to your hungry gaze. He gave your plush rump a firm squeeze coaxing you further forward until you firmly wrapped your hands around his neck and squeezed. A strangled noise stirred in Geshu Lin’s throat as your fingers tightened around his throat and wrung the air from his lungs. He could feel your nails biting into his flesh, scratching welts into his boiling flesh as his heart filled his ears. His pulse throbbed under the curve of your hand, stinging against your palms as a blood vessel in his head threatened to burst. The unrelenting pace of his hips did not waver, your soused walls clenching tighter as a constellation of tears clung to your heavy lashes. He could feel the tip of his cock rubbing against the soft, gummy patch deep inside of you that had you soaking the sweat soaked sheets beneath your bodies with a rush of slick from your core. A giddy smile pulled at his lips as you took his breath from him, his eyes sluggishly rolling to the back of his head as black dots painted his vision and he struggled to stay conscious. Just when he was on the verge of passing out, you let go of the harsh grip on his throat and his encroaching orgasm finally caught up to him.

He grunted and panted like a starving animal, holding your plump body in a bruising grip as he rutted up into your fat cunt until his hot, viscous seed coated your walls. His cock kicked with every heavy spurt as you were filled, the heat occupying your hazy mind as the boiling coil inside of you suddenly snapped from the pressure. Gehsu Lin swore something foul under his breath as your pussy squeezed him impossibly tight, strangling him in the exact same rapturous way you did a moment prior as thin threads of translucent fluid splattered across his abdomen and dripped down his thighs. You screamed until your voice stung in your throat, your soft stomach swelling as thick pearls of his cum overflowed and dripped down the quaking insides of your plush thighs. Your entire body trembled as Geshu Lin lazily bumped his hips into you, pubic bone clapping against the flushed nub of your clit as he smothered the head of his cock into the opening of your womb once more. You mewled as he filled you with another thick, creamy load, emptying your head of every single coherent thought as the dregs of your pleasure still flowed through your veins. 

Heavy pants filled the silence, your body burning with a pleasant ache as your heart felt like it was ready to jump out of your throat. Geshu Lin’s hands were a soothing balm against your scorching flesh as he rubbed soothing circles into your curves, squeezing your love handles affectionately as your eyes struggled to stay open. You squirmed in his lap as his fingers dipped between your legs, scooping up thick beads of his cum as his tongue clicked behind his teeth.

“This shouldn’t go to waste” he tutted. 

You whined as he shoved his thick fingers into your messy cunt, pushing his thick seed back into your already stuffed pussy. You scratched your nails along his collarbone, body dancing on the fine line of too much as you struggled to figure out if you wanted his stifling heat closer or to shy away from it. 

“Geshu” you rasped. 

“You didn’t think one round would be enough to satisfy me, did you?” Geshu Lin mused, the edges of his voice cracking. 

No, you didn’t. But you had been well prepared for it.  

[pitchcom]

soz if u guys arent here for this but these are MY personal grid A/B/O assignments + reasoning:

Max: alpha and i feel like i dont need to explain this one LOL

Checo: omega but i could be persuaded to see beta checo !! like take one long look into his beautiful big brown eyes n little freckles and motherly aura and tell me you dont see it ….

Charles: controversial but …. alpha. omega charles truthers i see you. i love you and hold you dearly. but to me charles is just a softer alpha u know ?? but he still has the bite too him … like hes all sharp teeth grin n you KNOW its all casual with him but you cant help but fall in love w him anyways ….

Carlos: DOUBLY controversial but I AM AN OMEGA CARLOS TRUTHER !!!! like again. look into his big brown eyes n plush lips … look at his quotes about how he was “too soft” when he was younger n just wanted to be friends w everyone … i will die on this hill

Lando: TRIPLY CONTROVERSIAL but alpha lando scratches an itch in my brain actually !! like chest puffed bravado rookie lando wanting to prove himself bc people always assumed he wasnt an alpha … now mellowed cheeky alpha lando whose gone through 2 older omega teammates (spoilers for daniel LOL) and learned a lot from them …

Oscar: alpha but i could be persuaded to see beta !! idk hes just so chill. so unbothered. people assume hes a beta bc of his attitude but hes just been raised so that he literally does not care abt designations at all

Alex: beta but i could be persuaded to others … like this one is not solid solid to me ?? but hes genuinely just so chill with everyone on the grid that hes like a stabilizing force … a calming presence u know … even though he absolutely has the capacity to be teasing n silly

Logan: omega end of sentence. look into those sad eyes and miserable aura and tell me you do not want to bundle him up. hide him away whisper sweet things to him. he would love it too the frat boy logan-ers are lying to you …

Daniel: omega LOL i mean i can see alpha danny n would not necessarily be opposed to it but his kind of mentoring of max n lando … his wide eyed curly hair braces when he came into f1 … also honey badger nickname speaks omega to me. it whispered in my ear and i saw the vision of danny stuck with angry baby alpha max n the two slowly learning how to coexist abd slowly becoming one ot the closest people ever to each other

Yuki: i actually dont have a preference LOL i mean i think the whole “shorter/smaller person is an omega” thing is a tired trope so i feel i have a little predisposed bias against omega yuki BUT i am generally open to all designations for him

Fernando: I AM ALSO AN OMEGA NANDO TRUTHER i am too hung up on his twink days w the old grid to ever really see him as anything more then a conniving little omega who absolutely kicks ass and proves the haters wrong LOL. you love to see an omega whose a little feral out there. like go forth and cause mischief or something

Lance: i wanna say omega but i could be persuaded …. like look at him. plush hair big brown eyes with fluttery lashes pouty lips. hes a little spoiled thing like hes so cat coded to me. lanky ol omega who knows what he wants

Pierre: omega !!! i dont rlly have an explanation for this one it came to me in a vision BUT i love omega pierre … pretty little bratty omega …

Esteban: beta but generally open to all interpretations !! he seems so like neutral to me … like big lanky guy whose trying his best to stand out n get his moment in the sun but gets a little overshadowed by other stronger personalities …

Lewis: alpha 100%. again hes calmed hes mellowed but this man has the calm quiet “i know im the shit. what are you going to do about it?” alpha demeanor to me. like he absolutely tore it UP when he was younger n was brash n confident (and was not the best alpha) but after the nico situation and teaming w valterri he rlly had his eyes opened and now he’s just chilling

George: alpha but i could be persuaded to other points of view … like this man was crazy n dedicated enough to powerpoint present why he should be in mercedes 😭 i think that he is deffo like hyperaware of designations/tries to do his best by everyone in the paddock tho

Kevin: omega BUT i could be persuaded for beta kevin. no real explanation again but i am once again influenced by rookie kev and also his fatherhood

Nico: alpha or beta. again no real explanation for this he just gives off cocky would-be-an-asshole-if-you-didnt-know-him-well alpha vibes but in an uncle way. like the guy who likes to tease you but goes too far sometimes and doesnt rlly apologize for it

Valterri: beta through n through 🫡 again influenced by his stint at merc where he was the perfect second driver and was also brought in to help smooth over turbulent emotions that were left from the brocedes divorce and nicos subsequent retirement. definitely grew into himself a little more post merc tho and now gives no fucks about what people think abt him or his designation. viva la vida

Zhou: i wanna say alpha OR omega. my narrative is that he was a shy rookie who’s not super comfortable in his designation yet when he first debuts but as he spends more time with “no fucks given” valterri he slowly becomes more confident and comfortable in himself. thats it sorry zhou fans im not well versed in the zhou lore 😭

[sluggybunny]

contents: short, nsfw, oc x canon. reposting bc i felt bad and i still do but i also want my stuff together on my blog. oh well. related to this one

It feels like he’s not in control.

He’s not.

Abnormal. He feels his heartbeat in his ears, his head swims and there’s a pressure building in his groin.

She’s soft.

How is she so soft?

Softness to him meant tender meat to bite into. Weak. A reminder of what they are and what he is not.

But right now his fingers dig into her hips and pull her closer. She grins, eyes lidded and knowing, and rolls her hips against that aching pressure. It makes it worse and better all at the same time.

He can feel himself breathing hard, lips parted as he stares her down. He must look ridiculous, he thinks, yet she looks at him with only hunger.

Saturn wraps her arms around him, fingers playing with the ends of his long hair. She keeps grinding on him, pressing her body against his. He can see a faint flush to her cheeks and the way she breathes, it must be affecting her just the same. That idea keeps him anchored, he wants to make her feel just as messed up as he does.

Lofwyr growls lowly before closing the distance and kissing her. He doesn’t want to look at her expression, the smug smile, or the desire in her eyes. He wants this to be physical.

She reciprocates it. She kisses him back just as hard, tongue and teeth. Her breathing quickly becomes labored and heavy, soft moans interspersed with panting as it escalates. The slow grind becomes frantic and desperate, and her hands start pushing clothes out of the way.

Lofwyr pries her off him and spins her around, hand on the back of her head in an instant and bending her over the desk. He needs to get this over with, his head feels like it’ll explode. Yet he still finds himself admiring her curves and her ass, thrusting his hips against her.

Saturn grips the desk, grinning. “Get on with it.” She says, her voice husky and low in a way that makes Lofwyr growl.

He’s out of control. He knows he is. What is it about her that makes him act like this?

Engaging in these acts of passion with metahumans to fulfill a need, an itch, is not something he’s unfamiliar with. But this transcends lust, it’s an obsession. He needs and craves it in ways he can’t understand. Her. Her body, her voice, her skin, her everything.

Even when he pushes inside, it’s not enough. He’s bent over her, kissing and biting her neck as his hips thrust into her, hard and fast. It’s not enough, he needs to be closer. A strange thought forms in his lust-clouded mind. A thought that says he wants her on her back, that he wants to watch her beautiful face. That he wants to hold her.

He has to banish these thoughts. He bites down hard onto her shoulder and he slams a hand down on the desk. If he just moves faster and harder, he can rid himself of this craving. It’s a fleeting thought brought on by hormones and lust. He just has to fuck her hard enough.

It gets through to her, she arches her back and lets out a cry of pleasure that reverberates through the room, right through Lofwyr’s core. She sounds so good, everything about her sounds so good. All consuming and he feels like he’s breaking apart, that he’s flying high and out of control and about to fall apart.

He opens his eyes to look at her, she’s got her back against his, her head rolled on his shoulder and she’s watching him. Half-lidded eyes, her perfect lips partially open as soft moans spill out. She doesn’t look conflicted, she never does. She’s confident in what she feels, the pleasure she gives and takes. Does she know how she torments him? Lofwyr finds himself envious of her.

Saturn leans in and they’re kissing, her tongue licks into his mouth. His hand rests on her stomach, holding her as he pumps into her. He thinks about how much he loves this. He wants to be like this all the time with her, her skin against his. Those moans, these lips.

It’s torture. It’s ecstasy. He won’t admit what it really is. He won't admit he can feel her come and that he holds her tighter when she does, burying his face in her hair and listening to her sweet cries. All of this is a mistake but it’s one he can’t tear away from. He comes inside her with a growl, fingers digging into her skin in hopes of leaving a mark.

When it’s done, she’s leaning over the table and panting heavily. Fluid drips down her legs and the sight stirs a more ugly instinct inside Lofwyr that he has to steer away by turning around. He’s fixing his clothes when he hears her.

“You okay? You’re like a million miles away.” Saturn asks, her voice still breathless and hoarse.

“Was it not to your satisfaction?” Lofwyr’s is steel and barbed and sharp. But it doesn’t even seem to graze Saturn.

“Oh it was great,” she chuckles. He can feel her come up behind him. “But I can tell something’s off with you.”

Lofwyr growls. He doesn’t want to turn around and face her. And see that cocky face that looks right through him. He feels unbelievably fragile right now. And she would see it. Only she would see it and he can’t stomach the reaction she’d have.

“Just get dressed. I’ll see you tonight.” Is all he says as he fixes his pants and heads towards the door. He doesn’t look back, he knows she isn’t watching him leave and it simply adds to his torment.

He’s out of control and he isn’t sure how to regain it.

[vlovebug]

Valentine headcannons because I can.

turning and after (I can't find why he was turned so I'm making my own way) and general

(I'll be honest some of these don't make sense but neither do I)

(I'm taking things from other vampire movies and applying them to monster-high vampires, mainly The Little Vampire ( 2007), all Hotel Transylvania movies, and some things from redacted audios ( yes I pulled this card so what)

he was turned only because of that old vampire dude (I forgot his name but he was the bad guy that was in charge of the vampire heart thing) needed a soldier and he had a magic core, so he was chosen with his mom

he had his magic core (power core or something) before his turning.

old vampire dude taught him that stealing love was the only right way to get it.

he was forced to train in many ways. ( fighting, torture, self-defense, etc)

at first, he refused to drink any type of blood because he was disgusted with himself, so he only went off love but that soon changed as he wasn't getting enough.

he was told if he didn't do something right, he would be starved ( cruel)

he struggled with his strengths for a long while, breaking things and bending them without warning. because of this, he has to keep a very good hold on his emotions ( news flash, he can't do that very well)

his fangs would cut his lips and tongue constantly so they had to put stuff on his fangs to protect his mouth ( modern stuff includes foram and just hiding his fangs in his gums)

he has to make himself look more human when going out ( fangs back into gums, sunglasses, something longsleeved or something that covers his skin from the sun rays, he will also just make glamors( magic covers) over himself if he's feeling lazy)

he can heal himself and others if needed (I've seen vampires be able to do that so all vampires that learn it can do it)

all vampires' eyes do that thing where the pupils shrink ( predator stare), some do it on purpose and some only do it when threatened.

his eye color can go from red to pink depending on if he drank blood or went off love. his eyes are pink 80% of the time

he can make illusions but depending on the size it can only last so long.

he can fly ( more like float but it is kinda of the same thing)

all vampires have bat forms ( we know this where am I going with this?)but they can also have a pair of small bat wings and tails on their forms at all times ( kinda like a hybrid of sorts, this is only the case if they get their bat form and go through a transformation ( vampire puberty )

he makes bat sounds (I love bat sounds, they itch my brain)

he likes putting his hair in styles his mom used to wear in BC ( or was it AD?)

he has daggers hidden on his person at all times because of monster/ vampire hunters

he likes to make fun of and torture hunters

he artistic

15 languages ( both verbal and nonverbal)

he can't sing but boy can he hum

has had his core touched and he punched the shit out of the person that did the touching out of shock.

he doesn't use his arms or hands in fights often because he likes kicking people

cries blood instead of water

has a pet reptile ( haven't decided which one)

has a HUGE soft spot for animals ( less for flying monkeys but he still loves the nice ones)

absolutly hates tomaotes, apples, bellpepers, anything with a bad texture, smell, or colour ( same)

we know he has a sweet tooth but I think he wouldn't like dark chocolate (I'm just giving him more of my traits at this point)

he bites ice cream and then whines when it hurts his teeth from the cold

he accidentally locks himself in places you wouldn't expect ( expert in finding spots that get you stuck 🤝)

in the comic thing, he's not seen till he's ready. based on that I would think that He is really hard to find when he doesn't want to be seen and can hide his presence ( how does that work? We will never know)

He can't spell nor remember easy words but can somehow be completely fine with large words ( ah yes another of my problems given to my comfort character)

he has a heart on his chest ( did I say this already?)

hes flexible as fuck ( military training ?)

he teaches spelldon and others he knows stuff that they wanna learn ( if he knows how ofc)

he never lies ( after the movie ofc) because he knows the truth will only hurt more with lies.

can be protective when with people

Mom friend ( mom friend)

( if they become friends) Draculaura tottled his car once and he's banned her from driving his car ( I would too)

can braid hair like no other, you need to fix your hair? he's there with a hair tie ( only if you tell him the can ofc)

I'm done, my brain is fried and I'm losing my ability to spell.

[sunflowersteves]

I AM THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THE TICS HCS AND I LOVED OMG! It was so cute and accurate baby, it's honestly the best 🥹❤️‍🔥 thank you so so much for that, really, it made my day. people often get annoyed with me, so that hc was so so good to read, i was smiling at my phone ngl. would you mind doing one for steve too?

IM SO GLAD YOU LOVE IT BABY!!!!! well, I’m gonna beat them up for u bc they shouldn’t be annoyed by your stims!!! you should be able to have stims and be you!! thank you my sweet angel! also found out from a reply that it’s called stimming! I hope you enjoy Stevie :)

join my sleepover <3

i feel like Steve would notice immediately

like before you ever started dating

he’s very attentive and observant even if he is a himbo

he’d always had an idea that you were stimming but he didn’t want to push any boundaries with you

so when you started dating, he would rlly pay attention to them

and holy fuck, he loved you so much and you were so cute

you’d just start clapping, dead silence in the room, and everyone turned to you

to be fair, you were in a library and so the librarians had shushed you aggressively

but you couldn’t help it!

you had no control over what your stims were

before you could feel embarrassed, Steve started to do the same thing

eventually, the librarians had to ask you to leave

he grumbled, “they can’t kick us out like that!”

“Steve, it’s a library—”

“Yeah, well, it was too quiet anyway” he’d huff and puff

he would literally always come to your defense though

it doesn’t matter when or where

that boy is fighting anyone who dares to get annoyed at his baby

would he win? to be honest, it’s a 50/50 chance but we all know Steve would jump into a fight

he’d bring you a bunch of things to fidget with

just in case you needed to fiddle with something

this man, the certified babysitter, is always prepared

he even tried to make kinetic sand but he absolutely ruined it

he doesn’t even know how

but still, the thought is there!! he wants to give his baby absolutely anything you want

he secretly enjoys it when you start to bite him

call him crazy, but he finds it hot when you’re just casually out to dinner talking and then you bite his shoulder

woah, he got red

he could fell the teeth marks on your shoulder and your shy expression

well, fuck!!! you’re just so cute!!!!

he couldn’t even tell the waiter his order because he was just stuttering away

he doesn’t know why but it’s the cutest thing in the world

you would always apologize

“I’m sorry, stevie.” and you’d wipe your sleeve on the bite mark

He’d press a kiss to your cheek, “never apologize, baby. okay?”

no, yeah, he wanted you to do it again

and then you did!! you bit his hand

and he thinks he died. his heart actually stopped.

rip steve harrington 1986

his favorite stim though was when you twirled his hair

normally, he hated when people touched his perfect hair

he spent a damn good time on his hair in the mornings so no one could ruin it

well, except you

you got that itch in your head and his hair that was on your lap was just drawing you in

so you twirled away, sometimes pulling

he swore your hands were magic because in two minutes he was sound asleep

he was knocked tf out by your hair twirling

he’d always snuggle closer and mumble little “I love you’s” to you

now it was time for your funeral bc this man was doing that in his sleep!!!

you press a kiss to his forehead, “I love you too, stevie.”

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

~*~

1. Hi, first wanted to say thanks for all your hard work, y’all are godsends when it comes to scratching that fanfic itch lol! I’m looking for a very specific fic, where it’s mainly about WWX’s relationship with food after being in the burial mounds and coming back to life and such, and there was a specific scene where he became sick after eating ribs bc it gave him PTSD from the burial mounds? I’ve been looking for so long, so even if y’all can’t find it, thanks for trying!

FOUND! 💖 the absence of hunger by parsnipit (M, 27k, wangxian, angst w/ happy ending, eating disorder, PTSD, food as a metaphor for love) this fic specifically has a scene where ribs clacking against his teeth sends wwx into a panic attack

not FOUND Wish Me Luck by Starlight1395 (Not rated, 164kt, wangxian, time travel, fix it, PTSD) For Wish Me Luck, the scene has him accidentally grabbing JC's bowl instead of his own meatless one and having to run out after biting into the meat.

not FOUND A Corruption of Comfort by BegrudginglyTumbling (SarcasticSmiler) (M, 1k, wangxian, JYL & WWX, eating disorders, vomiting, PTSD, cannibalism, angst, hurt/comfort)

Nothings left by BaiTutu (Not rated, 1k, wangxian, eating disorders, anorexia)

Lakes of wine and forests of meat by androktasia (M, 1k, wangxian, aftermath of cannibalism, WWX’s burial mounds trauma, post-canon, post-sunshot, non-linear)

~*~

2. Hi! Im looking for a fic about WY getting a new sword? I think it’s the old sword of Xue someone. I remember LZ following WY out of a banquet when he finished a duel. I think the sword might he called Genxin? Thank you!

FOUND! 💖 Did I Not Explain Why the Sunset Turns Red? by 3988Akasha (E, 100k, wangxian)

~*~

3. Haaay, thanks for all your hard work! I'm looking for a fic but I don't recall much except that WWX is way OP and when he sees the scars on LWJ'S back he gets furious and just takes them away completely. I hope this is enough! It's been a long time so I can't remember anything else. @moku-youbi​

Not FOUND It could be Silver & Gold by beeswaxing  (E, 162k, wangxian, Mojo’s post) 

or Imperfect Memory by xantissa (E, 62k, wangxian, Mojo’s post)

Thanks for the answers on #3. I know it's not Imperfect Memory. I'm almost 100% sure I haven't read Silver and Gold, but I'm going to start now to make sure this isn't the one, but I really don't think so. I do *think* I remember them being at Cloud Recesses when it happens? And Wei Ying is definitely aware of who he is.

Okay, having looked through Silver & Gold, that's definitely not it (though thanks for the rec, this is going on the TOP of my To Read list). A few more thoughts. I think they were in Lan Zhan's bed in the Jingshi and Wei Ying just kind of...pulls them off his skin or something? And it doesn't hurt Lan Zhan or disturb him.

~*~

4. Hi hi! For fic finder I’ve been going a little crazy looking for this one, -Wei Ying is married into Gusu lan (or engaged into it) and he is given a hairpiece to wear with black jewels, he goes back to lotus pier with lan qiren (and I believe lan Zhan and lan xichen) and is bullied into not wearing it by yu ziyuan etc. The Lans are not happy to see how he is treated by the Jiangs. Thanks in advance! @vulpestars​

FOUND!💖The Wild Geese’s Tomb by  The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 66k, wangxian, time travel, temp character death) ch 6, specifically

~*~

5. Hello! I’ve been searching for hours for this one fic and I was wondering if you guys could help me find it? It’s the one where everyone gathers at Jinlintai for Jin Ling’s birthday. Jin Ling is upset that Sizhui gets more attention from Wei WuXian than him and thats when Wei WuXian reveals that Sizhui is his son. I’d really appreciate your help! Thank you! Also, could you please tag @lustinyiling if you find it?

FOUND? 💖 Not Yet (There As Needed) by sunrise_and_death (T, 13k, wangxian, WWX & LSZ, LSZ & JL, post-canon, family bonding, dramatic revelations)

~*~

6. Hi! Hope you can help me. I'm looking for a fic in which WWX is an immortal, and not just that, but he has luved the same life several times. On one of them, he decides he is not good enough to meet LWJ, but then still goes see him when he (WWX) is old, and see how LWJ is cold and even rude, so decides to meet him in all his lives. There are also things like JGY, XY, WJL and other being WWX spies, and ppl in Yiling go to pray to him and leave offerings.

FOUND! ❤️ Restoration by ritualist (M, 85k, wangxian)

~*~

7. hello hello! I read this fic so long ago and I really can't remember it. I didn't even have an ao3 account to look through my history, so any help would be appreciated. I don't remember much, but it was a fic where wwx survived the siege. The most glaring memory I have is that when wwx was trying to destroy the seal it broke and pieces embedded itself in his hand. And I think it refused to heal over and he had to do an array to keep it in check.

FOUND! The storm comes and goes (and I keep walking) by Naamah_Beherit (my post here)

~*~

8. Hello, everyone! I'm looking for a fic where the setting is the Cloud Recesses study arc and it was A/B/O dynamics. In this fic, LWJ had already presented as an alpha; however, WWX hadn't presented yet, but everyone (including him) thought he was going to present as an alpha. Then, LWJ looks for a way to change WWX's “path”. He starts to scent WWX a lot (for months I think), and WWX ends up presenting as an omega. When WWX realizes why this happened, he doesn't get mad. Thank you for your time!

FOUND! This Twitter fic by sweetlolixo (ABO, wangxian, dark lwj)

~*~

9. Hi, I’m looking for a fic where LWJ starts acting like WWX to make him be remembered. I particularly remember a scene where LWJ goes to report results of his nighthunt/travel and he gives it with extreme detail while also writing rules.

FOUND! Unconcerned With Worldly Pursuits by Thisisnotthenerdyouarelookingfor (T, 9k, wangxian, fluff & crack, family, grief/mourning, canon divergence, OOC on purpose)

~*~

10. hey i'm so sorry to bother but do y'all happen to know of a fic where lwj is cursed (or prophesied) to be killed (or hurt?) by a person who is older than him and who kisses him (i think the summary has them suspecting it'll be lxc for the longest time) and wwx is the one who kisses him and there's a plot twist somewhere but i don't remb what it was. from what i remember lxc and lwj's mother is the one who realized the curse / prophecy because she read his fortune or sth like that. thank you!! @bi-bi-bitteraf​

FOUND! inevitably, indubitably by friedkiki (T, 24k, wangxian, royalty au, misunderstanding, curses, fluff, angst w/ happy ending, fairy tale elements)

~*~

11. Hello, hello. Hope you have a wonderful day/afternoon/night! For fic finder, I was wondering if you know a wangxian fic about Wei Ying being a trophy wife/husband? I forgot the name, but I do remember certain scenes in it - WY nighthunts with kids, they want to go home but WY wants to wait for LZ; WY asks LSZ for money and the juniors call him out for it; and the last part has WY peeling potatoes with the other Lan wives. I hope you and your followers can help me find it! Thank you again~

FOUND? The one about the fishies by Luminos07 (T, 3k, wangxian, domestic fluff, humor, jealous wwx, sugar daddy lwj)

FOUND? Life before you was tragic by covalentbonds (Not rated, 4k, wangxian, fluff & humor, 5+1)

~*~

12. Hi! I was wondering if you could help find a fic I seem to have misplaced--it's about Sizhui's perspective on a series of people (maybe a 5+1?) hitting on LWJ over the course of his life. I think maybe there's a sequel in which Jingyi develops a crush on one of the people who'd formerly tried to get with LWJ? Thanks!

FOUND! Criteria, Cotton Wool, Wisdom Tooth, and Astral Inclination by incendir (T, 10k, wangxian, LSZ & LWJ, 3rd, 5th, 12th, and 13th in Resolutions series)

~*~

13. Hello wangxianficfinder! Is there really a fic where Wei Wuxian fights/slays Xue Yang (or a demonic cultivator) and adopts the children meant to be human sacrifices? Could you and the collective help me find it? Thanks! @kaitou-cure-prism12​

FOUND? a micro utopia born as the overture plays by tardigradeschool (T, 18k, wangxian, JGY/LXC, fix-it) Spanish translation by finisterre12

FOUND? The waters and the wild by  SecretStorm (T, 62k, wangxian, WIP) 

~*~

14. Hey! I was looking for a fic where wwx like leaves mxy's body for some reason idk and mxy comes back in it. I think it was inspired by some fanart or that art is fic art. Anyway, i think i had bookmarked it and i cannot find it anymore. Please help!!! 

FOUND? or at least similar under stars by blackfeather (oogenesis) (T, 3k, wangxian, MXY & LWJ, MXY & WWX, post-canon, fix-it, WIP)

FOUND? or at least similar And to My Surprise, Neither One of Us Has Died by muckkles (T, 5k, wangxian, post-canon, body swap au, self-harm, suicidal ideation, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, WIP)

FOUND? Cannot Brave This Life Without You by Princess_of_Jugdral (T, 4k, wangxian, post-canon, major character death, hurt no comfort, dark, angst, blood & injury, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat)

FOUND? Thank you, Sorry and last Wish by FleurFannie (T, 2k, wangxian, post-canon, established relationship, WWXin MXY's body)

Switcheroo by nirejseki (G, 2k, time travel, body swap)

REC: Mo Xuanyu centric comic by zeldacw

~*~

15. hi there! i'm pretty sure i saved this but i cant find it anymore? wwx got age regressed. pretty sure this was cql compliant. juniors found him in yiling. jiang cheng was told about it, and reached them before lwj did. they all take care of wwx, who reveals all his trauma because "he was too small to keep his mouth shut";; but the whole thing about it was that wwx was able to rekindle his golden core by age regressing. the fic ends up with a yunmeng bros reconciliation and a wx thank you 

not FOUND little a-ying by byeollie (Not rated, 16k, wangxian, JC & WWX, LJY & JL & LSZ, LQR & WWX, curses, de-aging, fluff, family feels, reconciliation)

FOUND! found your writing on the wall by howodd5ever (T, 25k, wangxian, JC & LWJ, JC & WWX, de-aging, accidental baby acquisation, post-canon, case fic, getting together)

~*~

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

ok but in all fairness if anthrorry did 🥛in his pants during a make out session with lit student y/n it would be justified bc who wouldn’t if they had a bad bitch wearing fishnets and a low cut shirt on their lap. it would be a compliment me thinks

TRUE NO ONE WOULD COME OUT OF THAT ALIVE

Also imagine her wearing a fitted cardigan tucked along the rim of her skirt and halfway through kissing, she pulls back a bit and begins unbuttoning it slowly, pouting up at him as she murmurs against his lips. “I’m getting really hot in this thing. Is it okay if I take it off?”

And he can tell she doesn’t have anything underneath because after unclasping the first few buttons, he can see the lace-lined edge of her bra peaking out, so obviously his first instinct is to say no to save his sanity. But his hormones outweigh his logic, and all he can do is tongue over his swollen lips as his eyes flicker back up to her sultry hooded own, shifting against the sheets to relieve some of the teasing weight she’s placed against his crotch. He swallows thickly, biting back a wince as she pops another button temptingly, and now he has a decent view of the balconette bra she’s sporting, which is a piece meant to accentuate volume and test his restraint. He would know, considering it happens to be his favorite type of lingerie. He also knows that she knows that.

Before he can gather the strength to steel his resolve, his body is acting of its own accord, causing him to nod numbly as a response to her request.

“Y’sure? Don’t wanna make you,” Y/N pauses for a moment as she grinds down harder against his lap, his labored breathing audibly throttling in his parched throat as he feels heat burst inside his stomach. She flutters her lashes at him innocently, adding more honey into her tone as she finishes the sentence. “Uncomfortable or anything.”

Harry can barely choke out a reply, his accent strained and raspy as his fingers dig into the supple fleshy bits of her waist. “God, you’re making this so fucking hard.”

“I would hope so.” She quips arrogantly, glancing down symbolically to where their bodies are currently rutting against each other at a gradual, rhythmic pace. “Or else you’d probably have to get tested for erectile dysfunction, all things considered.”

Harry ignores her dumb joke, his gaze tracing the curves of her chest as she drags the fabric of the cardigan lower down her shoulders, exposing more of her skin in a seductive display meant to rile him up further. There’s a desperate, whimpering undercurrent behind his next breathy confession. “Can barely keep my shit together around you, y’know that? You drive me fucking insane.”

“How cute.” She murmurs in a mocking fashion, leaning forward to place wet kisses along the slope of his sharp, clenched jaw. Her voice comes out as a hushed whisper full of self-assured smugness, her warm breath cascading down his neck and making every crevice of his being itch with longing. It takes every last ounce of self-control not to pin her down to the bed and fuck her until she can barely form his name. “Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

Harry feels like his lungs are bound to collapse any second now.

Y/N coasts her damp mouth up to his flushed ear and takes the lobe between her teeth, biting down until he begins to squirm and whine. She pools a cocky giggle along the shell, which tapers into a conceited hum when she feels him twitch between her thighs. One of her hands perches along the dip of his jugular, and his entire nervous system lapses when he feels her fingers suddenly begin to tighten around his bobbing throat. The shock from her brazen move leaves him speechless, and what she utters next makes his eyes roll to the back of his skull in a moment of raw helplessness and sheer need.

“Do you, baby? Do you moan my name when you play with yourself?”

The only motion Harry can muster is a choppy nod, which results in his fogged glasses riding down the bridge of his nose. He’s much too distracted right now to fix them, and even if he wanted to, he doubts he still possesses the ability to lift his hands to do so. Every single one of his limbs feel like their bones have been replaced with lead, and trying to use one would be as logical as trying to lift a bus. Especially when Y/N’s grip closes tighter, her nails staining his already bruised neck.

Her words echo in his head, the degrading air behind them instilling a boiling deep in the pit of his abdomen. “I bet you fuck yourself and pretend it’s me. Bet you cum all over your stomach and wish it was my face, don’t you, H?”

Fucking hell, when did she get so fucking bold? Harry knows Y/N has no problem being assertive— she’s probably one of the most unapologetic people he’s ever met— but he didn’t think her to be so…dominant, given her generally quiet nature and mellow aura. She’s always been crude and blunt and blasé— a perfect mirror of his own habits— but even when she’s spewing atrocities and outwitting him in banter, she’s always held an underlying vein of compliance towards him. He’s always held the upper hand in their sexual tension, or so he thought. Or so she let him think, because now here she is, muttering utter filth into his ear with her palm around his airway, toying with him like a doll. She’s left his head throbbing (amongst other things), and he hates how much he loves it.

Harry exhales shakily, meeting her authoritative gaze, her irises bright with satisfaction and arousal. He can tell she adores leaving him so defenseless, and it would startle him if it wasn’t so fucking hot. Harry clears his throat roughly, and the croak that escapes him is just as pitiful as his fidgeting, if not more. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Is that right?” She hisses against his temple, nudging along his pulse with the tip of her warm nose as she rocks her hips against his faster. “So you stroke your cock and picture my lips around the tip instead?”

Harry’s answer puffs past his lips in a tight huff, his lashes fluttering shut in bliss. “Yes.”

“And you grind against your pillow and fantasize about being between my thighs?”

The pads of his digits grasp her waist harder, his joints aching from the exertion as his jaw falls open in a silent moan. “Every fucking night.”

“Do you daydream about it, too?”

His head falls back against the wooden headboard, veins chiseling their way down his throat as a pathetic groan hinges along the cracks of his teeth. “All the time.”

“All the time?”

“What can I say?” He remarks snarkily, his eyes flickering open to look down at her over the crests of his defined cheekbones, all in an attempt to maintain a shred of his usual confidence, though he can feel his composure beginning to slip. He urges a coy smirk across his face, but he knows for a fact there’s a red tint splattered across his dimples. “You look good in a skirt and your moans are pretty. S’what dreams are made of.”

Y/N’s hand juts up to grab Harry’s jaw instead, her nails printing crescents along the little pits in his cheeks. She slams her lips to his, her breathing stuttering as she feels his sly grin spread wider over her mouth. What she croaks out next makes he wish she had bitten her tongue, because she knows for a fact it’ll fuel his ego. “I want to make you cum.”

Harry scoffs against her tongue, his palms guiding her rocking hips in a teasing manner. “I’m sure you do.”

She corrects her comment, her energy decisive and frank as she yanks at the curls along the back of his head. “I’m going to make you cum.”

“I sure hope so. In due time, that is.”

“Now.”

Harry kinks his brows at her in challenge, his hands ducking beneath her skirt and giving her ass a rough grope, leaving his nails printed into the plush skin. He’s never been one to turn down a power struggle, and she knows that, which is why the words he spills past her lips burn the roof of her mouth in the most fulfilling dare yet. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Watch me.”

[spenciegoob]

A Special Kind of Man

this fic swap is for @safertokiss​​ ... I really hope you like it, emma bc this was so fun to write lol

A/N: OMG! this is a part of my first fic swap and the first time I’ve done something like this with so many people, it’s been so cool.

Summary: Spencer Reid was a virgin, you knew that. What you didn’t expect however was how much he was really holding back.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: loss of virginity (spencer), mommy kink, penetrate sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

___

I always knew Spencer Reid was special, and sure, everyone he’s ever had a conversation with would look at this 24 year old kid spewing facts that no human would think to ever learn about, stockpiling knowledge about, well, everything. I’m sure he amazes people with his mind, I too am amazed when he opens his mouth and the exact number of a certain model Ford truck that is bought every year falls out.

But what else I knew about Spencer that made him more special, more worshipable was beyond anything anyone outside our closed doors would know, and my god would I ever be a fool if I didn’t do just that; worship him.

I would have continued to believe that somewhere down the line, someone would have been smart enough to give that man every piece of love and attention he deserves, because let me be perfectly candid, Spencer was beautiful. His jawline that never lacked the tension of holding back every nugget of knowledge he had stored in that beautiful brain of his, and the eyes like honey that stare up at me with an innocence and desperation alike every time I straddle his lap.

Spencer Reid was not only worth worshipping, but he believed that I deserve that kind of dedication and preach as well.

I never did quite ask if he was a virgin, but in the back of my mind I always knew he had been surrounded by blind fools his whole life in the way he grasped onto my body and whimpered in my mouth every time I perched myself onto him. He would never go further than heavy petting, which meant neither did I. Spencer may be worth worshipping, but I would never push him to receive such.

So, when we found ourselves entangled once again, my legs spread to wrap around his hips as he sat perched against the back of the couch, and I felt the coolness of his hesitant fingers snake their way under my shirt, I was surprised into pulling away from the heavy kiss we were sharing. Immediately his hands, that initially sent a chill hurtling up my spine only to fill me with warmth, returned back to my waist over the shirt, scared that he had done something wrong.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, looking down and rushing through the words with so much embarrassment and fear of my reaction as if I could ever imagine tantalizing or walking away from him.

“Do you want to?” I asked, and personally thanked whoever was listening that Spencer Reid was a profiler, because even if I wanted to, I couldn’t hide the lust in my eyes, or the breathiness to my voice. He had, unbeknownst to my partner here, left me having to take deep breaths and positively buzzing. Like I said, I always knew he was special.

“Put my hands under your shirt?” Came his reply, and I may have never been a profiler, but I could hear, behind the confusion, fear of my rejection plaguing his mind.

“Yes,” I whispered, my lips grazing his cheek where I placed a soft kiss. Spencer’s grip on me tightened as I moved towards his ear, subconsciously pulling my hips down onto him. “Whatever you want, pretty boy.”

“You!” The exclamation was a shout mixed with a gasp once I sunk my teeth into his ear lobe. At first, I had not thought to take Spencer’s words so seriously. We were in the heat of the moment, hands grasping onto one another and lips finding skin, but then my sweet boy pushed me far back only so he could look in my eyes with the confidence of a man who just won the lottery to state. “I want you.”

There were multiple things I took note of when looking down at Spencer. The first being that he had only taken his eyes off of my own in favor of glancing down at my lips, then back at me before raising his eyebrows in silent question. The second was that he had not stopped squirming underneath me, the hard on trapped in his work slacks having to be uncomfortable by now, and the every few seconds he found friction against my own clothed center could not have been helping as much as he needed.

The third, and final thing I noticed buried deep into blown pupils and wide, boyish eyes was the lust, desperation, the need for me the same I held for him. Spencer Reid wanted nothing more in this moment than to show me he was a good boy, a special boy.

“Are you sure?” I barely got through the last word before Spencer started nodding. “I need words, pretty boy.”

“Yes,” his tone was already breathy, and we haven’t even started. “Yes, please. I’m ready.”

I didn’t wait, grabbing a hold of my sweet boy’s cheeks and bringing his face down to meet our lips. The kiss was slow, passionate of course, but I wanted to take my time with him. The way I see this going is spending carefully calculated time on every part of his body, worshipping him and giving him all of my love in the form of soft bites and deliberate touches. Spencer Reid was handing me all of him, and I would be foolish not to return the favor.

Spencer and I were not going into this blind, because no matter how embarrassed he got, we somehow ended up having a very enlightening conversation in the past, even if at first it had started as a joke.

“Not everything Freud has said in his life was completely untrue,” was what started the argument. Spencer, in his oh so need to discredit the behaviorists and psychoanalysts of the past, jumped at the opportunity to prove me wrong, but I wasn’t going to let him this time. “While he may have gone about it the… wrong way, Freud was onto something.”

I had unbeknownst to Spencer got up from my seat, and was quietly tiptoeing over to him. “You don’t agree that you wouldn enjoy calling me Mommy in bed, pretty boy?”

“I-I um…” Is what ended the argument.

I pulled back, admiring his swollen lips and eyes fluttering open before pulling my shirt over my head, giving Spencer a full view of my now bare chest. The only way I could describe his face was similar to what I would imagine someone’s expression would be if they had made a groundbreaking discovery. His eyes grew wide and his jaw went slack in surprise, plus he didn’t hesitate to shift his gaze to my breasts. I could feel his hands loosen their grip on my waist, fingertips itching to move up my body to feel more of me.

“Can- can I touch them?” He whispered, not taking his eyes off the body part in question. Spencer was still looking at my chest in awestruck, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel the same way I thought of him.; beautiful, worshipable, special.

I nodded my head, grabbing onto Spencer’s wrists where his hands still remained at my sides and slowly dragged them up to chest. There was no more hesitation, he pressed his palms onto my breasts and grabbed them, pushing them together before kneading them.

“Oh my god, they’re s-so soft” he gasped, eyes blowing wide.“I w-want you. Please, M-”

Spencer stopped himself, and I could feel the muscles in his body tensing at the accidental slip of the name I so desperately wanted to pull from him now that I knew he felt the same about it.

“What was that?” I hummed against him, starting to softly grind our aching centers against each other, eliciting the sweetest moans from the sweetest boy while he continued to palm my breasts.

“Please. Mommy, please.” And there it was, my title for the evening and the reason for the growing wetness at my core.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” The buttons on his shirt were harder to undo than I would like to admit, his fingers that have moved on to tweak my nipples pulling my concentration and causing me to moan quietly as I worked. Eventually I accomplished getting his shirt open, and he helped me to push it off his shoulders and off of him.

I ran my hand down his chest, relishing the whimpers falling from his lips and my featherlight touch traveling further to the waistband of his pants.

“Bedroom,” I whispered, attempting to remove myself from his lap in favor of moving this party to a more comfortable place than the couch. Spencer had other plans.

“Wait,” he shouted, grabbing my hand and pulling me back down on top of him. “I-I like it here.”

“On the couch, pretty boy?” It wasn’t that the position we were in wasn’t feasible, but this was Spencer’s first time. I wanted to make it as special as I could, starting with an actual bed.

“I want to be close to you.” If his words didn’t pull at my heartstrings, the way he looked down instead of in my eyes again did.

“Okay,” I agreed, and it was the truth, because the warmth spreading through me at the feeling of our bodies pressed so closely together was intoxicating. Spencer went to go unbutton my jeans, but I stopped him. Not because I didn’t want them off, but because he hadn’t realized that my plans for him included him sitting there and looking pretty like he always does. “Let me take care of you, sweet boy.”

I finished the job Spencer had started, getting up to unbutton my jeans and pull them down my legs. I heard him gasp at the sight of me now in only a pink thong before reaching out and making grabby hands at me. Instead of sitting back on his lap, I sunk to my knees on the floor, repeating the process on his work slacks and stripping him down to his boxers.

“Is this okay?” I asked, running my hands up and down his thighs in the most soothing manner. He responded with a hard nod and an ‘Yes, Mommy,’ shifting his hips closer to my hands in hopes that I would touch him where he craved the most. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t give him what he wanted. I didn’t use my hands, however, lowering my face to where there was an evident wet spot of precum on his boxers and placed a gentle kiss through the fabric on the tip of his dick.

Immediately his hands shot out to grab onto the sides of my face, forcing me away from his member to look up at him insead.

“I- I’m not going to last long like that,” he whispered. “Please, I need you, Mommy, please.”

I stood up, returning to my position perched onto his lap and smashing my lips to his. This kiss was much different than the ones we’ve shared previously, it was rushed, uncalculated and heavy. Tongues fought against each other and I caught his little whimpers in my mouth every time our cores rubbed against each other.

I grabbed onto the waistband of his boxers, asking one last time if he was sure. When I got his permission, I pulled them down to reveal himself to me, and my god was he beautiful. The tip was red and leaking precum, and I used my thumb to gather some and bring it to my mouth. Spencer’s jaw went slack again, watching me suck his cum off my digit and not taking my eyes off his own. I shifted once again to hover over him, pulling my panties to the side.

“Are you ready?” I asked, grabbing his hard cock and readying the tip to my entrance. He attempted to buck his hips up and enter me, but I continued to tease him by rubbing my wetness over him without entering just yet.

“Yes. Please, Mommy.” I sunk down, reveling in the way his eyes grew wide and his hands shot up to grab onto any part of me. Slowly, I inched down, feeling the stretch he provided and we both were moaning at the feeling.

“Is this okay?” I asked once more, getting a nod and a gasp at the feeling of me around him in return. His hips were trying to buck up into me, but I wouldn’t let him, lifting up slowly and slamming back down to the hilt.

“Oh my god,” he praised once again, screwing his eyes shut and panting. I picked up a rhythm bouncing on his cock with feaverish intent, neither of us were going to last long, both of us hypersensitive to each other.

Spencer opened his eyes, and couldn’t find where to look. He started with my breasts bouncing in his face with my increased speed, and moved on to where our bodies met, watching himself disappear into me. Lastly, he stopped at my face, finding me already staring down at him with my mouth agape and mewls escaping me.

From there we gazed into each other’s eyes, Spencer not holding back any of his sweet moans and gasps that sounded like garbled versions of my name. The knot in my stomach tightened further when I shifted slightly and felt his tip graze my sweet spot. He must have been close to, his hips thrusting up softly to meet my own in an attempt to chase his high. I reached down to rub my clit, wanting to fall off the edge together.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” he panted out, and I clenched around him at the sound of him whimpering. “Ah- ah ah, Mommy please!”

I increased the pressure on my clit, the coil in my stomach reaching its end when I shouted “Cum with me, pretty boy.”

Spencer’s hands gripped onto my waist with bruising pressure as we reached our highs together, crashing down with a shout of each other’s name as I felt his cum cover my pulsing walls. The feeling was indescribable, extending my orgasm and milking him for everything he has.

I slumped forward, resting my head against his sweaty shoulder as we attempted to catch our breaths. Spencer’s arms wrapped around me fully, pulling me closer to him and nuzzling his face into my neck, the sentiment making me smile.

“Are you okay?” I asked once our breathing returned to normal and the cloudiness of my post organsm brain melted. He just pulled me impossibly closer, laying kisses on the expanse of my neck he could reach.

“I’m more than okay. That was- that was-”

“Yeah, I know.” I giggled at his awestruck tone, mimicking his movements and nuzzling deep in his neck, breathing in his sweet scent.

Like I said, Spencer Reid was a special kind of man.

___

Join a taglist here Tell me your thoughts on this fic here Have a request? Send it in here

Taglist: @the-girl-who-writes-fanfiction​ @haylaansmi​ @masumiyetimziyanoldu​ @cielo1984​ @rexorangecouny​ @username2002​ @calm-and-doctor​ @pieceofried​ @mermaidshmari​ @missyoumaybank​ @seasonfivereid​ @no-honey-no​ @muffin-cup​ @90spumkin​ @spenxerslut​

[moonctzeny]

Promotion

This is technically a part 2 of my fic Work for it but it can be enjoyed on its own!

pairing: supervisor !johnny x intern ! female reader x assistant !haechan

genre: smutty goodness (this will send me to hell vip)

word count: almost 14k

summary: “After you fuck the Sales’ department supervisor, Johnny Suh in your office during an overtime, you’re left to deal with the unavoidable lingering emotions that come with getting his dick on the regular. At the same time, his assistant and your best work buddy, Donghyuck, who initially helped you with getting with his boss, realises his growing crush on you that is too big to be ignored at this point. With their masterful skills in seduction, you’ve ended up tangled in a sexual game with the both of them, all the while trying to move up from an intern to a permanent worker in the company”

warnings: threesome w/ two doms, alcohol consumption, mention of food (meat, lettuce, eggs), oral, overstimulation, thigh job, at some point- reader borrows a shirt from haechan and it’s mentioned that it’s ‘too big on the shoulders’, thigh riding, office sex, pussy slapping, choking, fingering, sir kink thrown in there at some point, a little degradation bc this is my fic we’re talking about

a/n: omg it’s finally done! I really love this so I hope you guys like it as well :)

taglist:  @rainodanna​, @markresonates​, @unknown5tar​, @yoongsicles​

For every other worker in the office, virtually nothing had changed. 

They relive the same mundane routine, Monday after Monday, the same excruciating 8 hours and short cigarette breaks. The same trees, stuck in their ceramic imprisonment would greet them in the company’s entrance. Rigid and dusty and reeking of cheap plastic. It’s not like they’d come alive, open their little mouths on their thylakoid membranes and tell everyone you fucked mr. Suh, the Sales Department’s supervisor, in your office during your overtime. No, that’s not possible, you reminded yourself when you pass by them every morning, giving them a side eye for good measure, as if that would scare them off their zombie state.

And you were the same too, completing your tasks and meeting your deadlines. Blending in with the rest of the company’s human resource, with the exception of the occasional double take of some tactless male worker here and there.

Donghyuck, however, said supervisor’s assistant and your best friend, wasn’t your typical office worker. He noticed the extra layer of cherry lip gloss coating your lips. He noticed your new perfume, sweeter than the one you used to wear. He noticed the knowing smiles between you and his boss, the heat of your body when you were around him. And it wasn’t just because he was sharp overall.

He was the one who practically got you together, planted the seed in Johnny’s head about the cute new intern of the Financial Department. He was the one who convinced him to finally make a move on you, tired of seeing you trying over and over again to seduce the supervisor to your bed. 

And when that seed finally sprouted, in the form of Johnny spitting in your mouth and taking you on your office chair like you were his last fuck on earth (according to the hair-raising description you gave Donghyuck the morning after), he should’ve been happy, right? 

It didn’t really affect his life in the slightest.

You were just y/n. His friend, his work buddy. The person whom he was close enough to let you know you had a piece of lettuce stuck on your teeth from that sandwich you had on your break. The person who texted him funny gifs of pandas falling asleep during the most boring of meetings. With your nerdy glasses and that ugly brown suit you loved wearing so much. The person he dreamt of fucking every time he fell asleep.

When you told Donghyuck you had a crush on his boss he wasn’t shocked, but the stinging buzz in his guts surprised him. He would see you waltz right past his office all perked up and pretty, to see the person you really came for, nervous as you hung from every word that left Johnny’s mouth. He’d put up with the sound of you giggling over every stupid joke that left the older man’s mouth patiently, just to wait until he’d smell your sweet perfume as you’d walk past him again. To tease you over something that would make you mad enough to notice him, glare at him, maybe even hit him.

And Donghyuck wanted to hate Johnny, he really did. His stupid boss who asked for his coffee specifically made, who was rude and cranky on Monday mornings and got the credit for all his hard work, yet Johnny was nothing of the sort. He was helpful, and kind and let him off early. He was funny and good looking and taller than him and had a six pack, damn it. If Donghyuck was being honest, he didn’t just like his boss, he admired him. It was pathetic, he thought. Most days he’d live vicariously through him. 

Sometimes he would lay on his bed at night, picturing himself to be the second lead of a romance drama that would sweep you off your feet. Everyone gets second lead fever, right? In his rem cycles, he’s handsome and hilarious and much more interesting than the main actor. He would imagine himself stretching out his rays, like the full, rising sun that he was, until they overcame the big mountain that was Johnny and reached your skin. So hot against it that you’d have to undress, remove the clothes sticking on your sweaty skin to embrace him. 

He thought about your body a hundred times too many for it to be considered healthy. The curve of your ass in your pencil skirts, the little hairs on the nape of your neck that stuck out from your tight ponytails. The runs on your tights that he wished were caused by the sharpness of his fingernails. He listened to your voice carefully, all 90 Hz of it, and played it inside his head as if it was an instrument. Putting together chords and harmonies, composing a music piece of all the ways his name would sound like coming out of your lips.

Donghyuck, Donghyuck, Donghyuck

“Earth to Donghyuck? Are you listening to me?”

It was unlike him to be out of it, especially when he was around you. He blames it on skipping coffee this morning or the shade of red of your blouse that fits you so well. Either way, he had to respond, and keep the pink from flooding his cheeks further. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going on inside his head.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. So, let me get this straight. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want a relationship?”

You were upset, he could tell. After the night of the overtime, you and Johnny had indulged in a few more nights of each other’s presence, but had kept it at that. Sex. Delicious, mind blowing, porno worthy sex, but nothing more than that. And you were starting to itch for a little bit more.

Donghyuck was right, of course. You were the one who told Johnny that this wasn’t the right time in your life for any sort of commitment, especially with someone in the workplace. This was your internship, and you were determined to get a permanent position soon, that should be your first priority. Get the bag and go. There were men everywhere. But why was your heart aching for that particular one with the long hair and the caramel eyes and the flower tattoos? 

“I just don’t want people at work to gossip about us, you know how they get. But seeing him so nonchalant about it gets on my nerves.”

Leaving his apartment at 2 am when he was sprawled out on his bed, in just pyjama pants and the light layer of sweat from the athletic sex you just had, hurt enough. It was a sight so beautifully hidden under his work attire that it soon became addictive, the withdrawal symptoms too intense for you to have your dose only once a week. 

Donghyuck scowled when you first let out a frustrated sigh, your eyes pitifully following his boss’s silhouette around. He knew you’d never really complain about it, you were set on that promotion and you deserved it too, but it was hard not to get angry. Everything he ever wanted stood willing and ready for taking in front of Johnny’s lap, how could he not claim you?

He hated seeing you sad.

“Let’s go for a drink. I think you need it.”

Even he surprised himself with the sudden proposition, blinking back at you to gauge your reaction. You were best work buddies, sure, but you never hung out after office hours alone. It would make sense for you to refuse, Donghyuck told himself, trying to soften the blow of a potential rejection. You’re probably tired from working, or maybe you’d feel awkward to be alone with him for so long. Maybe you hated to drink, or maybe you hated him. Oh God, what if you hated him? What if you only spent time with him out of social obligat-

“Sure, sounds good. Pick me up after you’re done? Since you’re on the top floor.”

Donghyuck nodded back at you, too eagerly for his liking, the gears in his brain already trying to figure out where he should take you. You excused yourself back to your office, the small pat you gave his shoulder making him grin like an idiot.

This is not a date, he reminded himself. 

He had dreamt of this moment for months now. He thought about you every time he walked past that korean bbq place, promising himself that one day he’d muster the courage to finally ask you out. This wasn’t exactly the case today, but it was as close to his imagination as possible. This is not a date.

He repeated that phrase over and over again, let it resonate inside his head. This is not a date because he is a coward and you like someone else. Was he a bad person for taking you out today? Was he taking advantage of your slight disappointment? Was that why you ever said yes in the first place? The self deprecating thoughts lit a fire in his belly and he tried to extinguish it with every shot of clear liquid that disappeared from between his full lips. Like he expected, you weren’t far behind on the drinking either, enjoying the grilled pieces of meat blissfully, moaning in satisfaction with every delicious bite.

You looked pretty before, but now, through the pink coloured glasses of intoxication, you were stunning. There was a halo of bright light surrounding you, making you look so celestial chomping on that piece of lettuce. If it was anyone else, he would pull a face of repugnance at the sight, yet Dongyuck thought that you just looked so cute, so content in that little moment and he wished he could just lean in and leave a kiss over your filled cheeks.

No, that was a dangerous thought. This is not a date, pull it together.

Donghyuck desperately tried to focus his attention somewhere else, anywhere but you would suffice. His eyes finally landed on a bowl of marinated eggs on the table, and it reminded him of the three boiled eggs he makes for breakfast every morning. He was a man of habit, following the same routine until he’d see you and you’d colour between the lines of his life, making it interesting finally. Donghyuck would fill the pot with more water than needed, just enough so that it doesn’t overflow. He liked to be closer to you than he could handle, close enough but never touching you.

Lost in his daydream, he doesn’t realise that he hasn’t talked in minutes. And when you touch his hand lightly with yours to bring him out of it, he almost feels the boiling water burning his skin.

“You’re so quiet”, you say with a chuckle, and Donghyuck makes a mental note to add this harmony to his composition, “you got drunk before I did? Are you really Lee Donghyuck?”

“Well see, I drank all this soju, so I wish I was someone else for the night.”

The statement saddened you, and you withered a little in your seat. Why did Donghyuck drink so much tonight? You came here for you to cheer up, didn’t you? Or were you so caught up in your little personal drama - that you caused yourself - that you missed hearing about his cat dying? You must offer your condolences. Did he even have a cat?

You don’t want to bring up his dead cat in case he did so you just lift your hand next to his head, and weave your fingers through his locks. He has been growing out his hair for months now, and the look might not be the most corporate-professional but it sure fit him. The ash blonde shade that he decided to colour it, brought out the tan of his skin nicely, and the hair itself though bleached was still soft to the touch. 

You see him react to the work of your fingers instantly, his expression shocking you. His mouth is hanging open in a loose ‘O’ shape, small wrinkles forming on the space between his eyebrows. You pick out small pieces of hair, one by one, letting gravity do the rest by allowing the individual hairs to return to their previous state. 

“What are you thinking about?”, you ask so softly it’s almost a whisper, and Donghyuck can only sigh.

YOU, he wants to scream, you’re in my mind all day long and I think I’m going crazy! He is full on staring at you now and there’s nothing in the world that can take his eyes off of you, off your worried eyes that seem to hold all the stars in the sky, or the soft skin of your neck that he wants to kiss and suck and break so badly. But he doesn’t, and the soju calls him a coward for it, so he settles for the next best thing.

“You are pretty”

It was just three words but they sent your mind in a frenzy. Why did it matter so much to you that Donghyuck found you pleasing to look at? He has complimented you before, even flirted with you a lot of times, yet it was always said half-jokingly, followed by a diss. But this time he was serious, no signs of alcohol clouding his eyes. He was so solemn in fact, that those three words made the heat burn on the skin of your cheeks, rising up your throat and hindering you from responding with a human sound. 

He takes one more shot, washing away the embarrassment of his sudden confession and offers to order one more fatty dish to sober up, then take a walk in the city.

The walk was relatively quiet, less awkward than it was 30 minutes ago but Donghyuck was still being uncharacteristically silent.

“I thought you said that alcohol doesn’t make you red”, you say teasingly, trying to spark conversation. 

It doesn’t actually. You were the culprit of the wash of burgundy all over his skin, accumulating even more pigmented around his ears and the freckles of his nose. You were walking side by side now, and Donghyuck thought that for the passersby you two must look like lovers. He let his brain entertain that fantasy, his hand itching to hold yours. He’d intertwine your fingers together, give your palm a little rub with his thumb. Then he’d lift the bundle of fingers on his lips, kiss the thin skin of your wrist and make the aunties that are looking at you now coo in adoration.

“Says you. You look so fucked right now.”, he jokes and you’re relieved to see him go back to his teasing self. You don’t know if it’s the chilly night, but you’re overly aware of the heat his body emits, and the smell of his cologne makes your head spin just a bit more. You’ve been sitting so close to him this entire time that you can list off most, if not all, the ingredients in his perfume. Rose, chilly pepper, orange blossom, lavender. 

“Donghyuck, I will step on you.”

“Mmm, tempting”

You shove his arm playfully and he reciprocates, but his strength is not as controlled as he thinks. The heels of your boots, slippery against the wet floor that the drizzle caused earlier, make you trip on your steps, and Hyuck is luckily there. With his quick reflexes he catches your elbows first, pulling you up against his chest and you grab his left bicep to support your weight. 

You take a deep breath, to register that you did not fall head first on the floor, and that’s when you realise how close Donghyuck is to you. His bangs are tickling your forehead, your deep pants fanning them apart. You admire his glowing skin, the wrinkles of his lips, the two moles lined parallelly with the bridge of his nose. You’re not sure what comes to you, but you raise your free hand and place it over his hot cheek, your thumb connecting those two moles with an invisible line. A raindrop, fresh out of the sky and signifying the start of a new drizzle, falls on his face and follows the trail that a tear would, his voice weak and breaking when he speaks again.

“I’m sorry”

He dips down his head then, connecting your lips and letting the plumpness of his mouth reel you in. You’re over the initial shock almost immediately and kiss him back in vigor, surprised with the heat his kiss has spread to your chest and belly. It was an ember at first, glowing in the very depth of your insides but it was soon starting to spark up uncontrollably, and you were scared of how rapidly it was fueling up. This was your friend you were kissing. So where did all this hunger for him come from?

You pull back when you realise you’re in a road full of people, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eyes. Donghyuck looks disheveled and anxious, and he apologizes again before he urges you to keep walking with him.

“It’s starting to rain. We should get home.”

You walk next to him in complete silence now, stealing quick glances of his reflexion at every surface that made it possible -  the windows of the parked cars, the puddles of water on the sidewalk, a passersby’s glasses. The look on his face is unreadable, pensive if anything else, and it’s rare for the expressive Donghyuck you’re used to dealing with. Your homes are towards the same direction, his a little closer than yours, and it doesn’t take too long for you to reach the entrance of his building, your clothes not even half wet from walking without umbrellas.

Donghyuck fumbles to find his keys, his hands shaking from the adrenaline his body released from the kiss earlier, the feeling still too fresh against his lips. He stresses thinking of what to do next. Should he hug you goodnight? Apologize again for kissing you? Unlock the entrance without a word and never speak to you again? 

“I’m here”, he states dumbly, as if you’d sit at the porch of a strange house and he avoids your eyes as if you were Medusa, “Goodnight.”

You smile back awkwardly at him, waving with a hand made of clay as you wish him the same. He has turned around to unlock the door, key already at the keyhole and you turn to leave too when his voice stills you in place.

“He’s an idiot.” His back is still facing you, and when he turns to look at you his eyes finally lock with yours, as honest and earnest as ever. “Johnny. If it were me, hell, if you wanted me like that I would grab that opportunity- grab you in an instant, convince you to be mine any way I could.”

You’re stuck looking at him like a fool, trying to comprehend what he’s saying and the complications of it. He puffs out through his nose, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter. Goodnight y/n.”

Donghyuck is half inside the entrance now and your body suddenly exits its frozen state, blocking the door from closing with your boot. He’s shocked with the sudden movement and he opens up the door further for you. You get inside the little hall without thinking, sitting firmly in front of him, a puzzled look on his face. 

“What if I told you he hasn’t even crossed my mind this whole time we were out? What if I told you I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you kissed me? Would it matter then?”

He opens his mouth momentarily, as if to speak but decides to stay silent. He already said everything he needed. It’s up to you now.

And you aren’t ready to leave yet.

You take a step forward to close the distance between you, your chests touching and you pick up the distinct smell of soju in his breath. You’re not sure if it’s that smell or the proximity but you feel drunk all over again, the yellow light of the hall shining disturbingly bright down at you and urging you to do something.

You plant a kiss over his neck, leaving a trace of the remnants of the pink lipstick you applied at the start of the workday. It was tentative, but you could still feel his raging pulse from under your lips. You could feel it get faster too, the rhythm going higher along with his body temperature and you decide on a path. A path of kisses starting from the same spot you’ve turned glittery pink, up his jawline and all the way to his earlobe.

Donghyuck clenches his jawline, you feel that too, and something snaps inside him. He just can’t take it anymore, having you so close to him, your lips on his neck and doing nothing about it. The boiling water finally spilled over the pot, hot and overflowing, and he doesn’t care if he gets burned.

You feel the cool wood against your back before you taste his tongue a second after. He has pushed you up against the entrance door, you realize, but it’s hard to comprehend anything around you when he kisses you like that. It’s the steamy, purposeful continuation of the kiss you shared earlier, and with the lack of prying eyes Donghyuck has a good idea of where he wants it to lead.

He shows you too, pushing his knee between your thighs and he feels your heat almost melt the rough fabric of his jeans. There are so many things he wants to do, so many lines he wants to cross but there is one thing he must ensure.

“Tell me you want this.”

You glide your hands upwards from his pecks to the slope of his neck and wrap them around his neck. Your body seems to act up on its own, and you feel yourself grinding down his leg that is still positioned against the wall. It feels dirty, the desperation of it all, and you connect your chest with his again before answering him.

“Lee Donghyuck. I want you to make me cum” 

You grab his hand before he gets to respond, the cool silver of his watch digging against your fingers, and you drag him to the elevator door. As if the universe had sensed your urgency, you find it waiting for you at the bottom floor, and you pull him inside with a tug of his tie.

In no time you find yourself pushed up against the wall again, and you can’t see much beyond Donghyuck’s lips, but you do catch him clumsily pressing the button to his floor with your peripheral vision. Once the elevator is in motion you feel like you can finally submerge yourself in his lips and the way his kisses take your breath away, not sure if the funny feeling in your stomach is from the sudden change in altitude or the arousal. You’re already taking his clothes off, removing the jacket of his suit off his shoulders and working the top buttons of his shirt open.

It’s him that drags you to his apartment this time, urging you out of the elevator as soon as the robotic declaim of his floor number rips through the wet sounds of you kissing. His keys are already easily accessible in his front pocket from your conversation earlier, and when he manages to unlock the entrance with trembling hands you walk inside as if you own the place.

It’s small and cozy, decorated minimally. The first thing you notice is that it smells like Donghyuck, something that should be obvious but it still overwhelms you. It’s maybe a bit stuffy from the hours he was gone yet this is the smell still lingering in your nose from his skin you were sucking just moments ago, trying to distract him from the easy task of opening the door. It’s addictive and you want it stuck on yours.

And Donghyuck does stick on your skin, discarding his tie on the floor with a strong pull and finishing the task of unbuttoning his shirt that you started in the elevator. His movements are impatient and soon he’s half naked, and you barely have time to admire his caramel skin before his hands are all over you. They start safely at the dimples of your waist, then sliding upwards to your ribcage and copping a feel of the underside of your boobs by sneaking his thumbs under the wire of your bra. You want to feel more, encourage his probing fingers so you reach to the clasp on your back, unfastening the garment and removing it through the hem of your blouse. 

Donghyuck can’t take his eyes off your chest, nipples hardened from your arousal and poking through the thin fabric. He takes his thumbs, the same thumbs that lit a fire in your belly earlier and flips the bud, toying it around and rubbing circles around it. The response from you is immediate, moans that start off soft and build up to a crescendo bouncing off the walls of his apartment.

It drives you crazy, a little bit, that smirk he has on his face now. It’s so familiar in between his features, you’ve seen it countless of times, especially during his typical teasings of you, yet is carries so much newfound weight now, so much sex appeal. He’s already giving you what you need but the climaxing is too slow for your liking, you want more and you want it now. You want what you asked him for in the lobby of this building.

Donghyuck can either read your mind or read through the increased frequency of your moans because he undresses down to his boxers, forming a trail of clothes from his living room to his bedroom, where he has led you. He doesn’t even bother to open the lights, relying on the moonlight from his window for lighting and pushing you down on his bedsheets. 

He climbs up with you, hovering over you and you move back a bit so that your head rests comfortably over his pillows. If the smile he gave you earlier had affected you, then the hungry look on his face right now almost makes you come untouched, his eyes raking up and down your body as if he doesn’t know where to start.

He decides on your calves, kissing them and moving upwards slowly and sensually, not missing the sensitive skin on the side of your knees and paying extra attention to your inner thighs. He’s still at it a minute and a half later, and you can’t tell in the dark but you’re sure they must be decorated by bite marks by now, his close proximity to the source of your pleasure making you squirm in his hold.  

It feels like ages since you last felt his fingers when he grips the soft meat of your thighs and spreads them apart. They soon move up to the hem of your skirt, rolling the fabric upwards and over your ass. You feel his breath against your pussy, making it tingle and twitch even more than it already has, and the wait feels like a new level of hell in Dante’s Inferno. 

A single finger pets you over your underwear, drawing lines over the damp fabric from your clit down to your entrance and then up again. You whimper and whine at the sensation that is half a step from what you consider satisfactory and he hooks a finger on the black lace, moving it to the side and letting you experience the cool air of the room all over again. The full exposure brings heat to your face and you breathe through the embarrassment that arouses you even more.

“Hey, Donghyuck?”

“Yes?”

“Is your cat still alive?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He licks one long stripe over your entrance, and you feel the goosebumps spreading all over your arms and legs. Nimble fingers spread your folds apart, and you hold your breath as he lets his cool spit drip from his lips and land onto your lower ones, then starts sucking over your clit. His tongue is wet and his breath is hot, the combination driving you insane. You grip the comforter, digging into it with your nails to keep yourself grounded.

“Oh my god, yes, right there”

The praise motivates him to keep trying hard, not that it will take a lot of effort to make you come undone. Donghyuck’s unprecedented touches and the newfound sexual tension they have ignited had already worked you up, his skill in oral accelerating the build up to your climax even more. And just when you thought it couldn’t get better than this he starts a series of kitten licks right over your clit, each one sending a wave of pleasure stronger than the one before.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”

You’re grinding on his face, trying to find the right pace when you finally come undone, thighs shaking and desperately trying to push his hands away to cover up your sensitivity again. His hold is steady and he continues to lick you keenly, the lewd sound of him slurping your wetness filling the room. Your eyes open wide and you can only stare at his white ceiling during your overstimulation, the cracks and crumbling plaster caused from humidity looking like constellations in your orgasm-drunk mind. The second climax hits you suddenly but forcefully, unable to control the volume of your voice, not that you can hear yourself clearly in your daze. It’s an array of moans and screams and tiny whimpers of Donghyuck’s name, his beautiful symphony coming to life.

His appetite for you is finally satiated, and he decides to take mercy on you and remove his lips from your pulsating heat. You look so beautiful right now, he thinks, skin illuminated by the pale moonlight that is reflected on the wetness dripping from your pussy. He hovers over you again, pulling you into another kiss and you lazily reciprocate. His member is painfully hard, sliding over your slickness. You squirm and yelp everytime the fabric of his underwear grazes against your clit, your nerve endings screaming in sensitivity.

“I don’t have a condom on me”, you whisper against his lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue engaging you in the kiss again.

“I’m too tired to fuck you like you deserve anyways”

It would be criminal from you to leave him untouched like that. He looks so hot over you, messy hair and chin glistening in your juices. You absentmindedly place your nails on his collarbones, then scratch your way down over his navel. Donghyuck hisses at the numb stinging of pain, hips buckling against your pussy in the pursuit of some sort of friction. 

You move your hand even lower, slipping your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. You move past the bristles you find and grasp his member, that is not too long but an impressive girth. You manage to free it from his underwear, and you can’t really tell in the dim lighting but you bet it must have turned a purple-ish red colour. It’s leaking.

“But we don’t have a condom”

You take one of his hands in yours, giving it a kiss to calm him down, then place it over your left boob. He toys with the mound of your chest, squeezing the softness. You had other plans for him.

Connecting your knees together, you let the softness of your thighs connect, with only maybe a slither of space between them. Your hands are still on Donghyuck’s cock and you reach to hold his balls, massaging them slightly and pulling him towards you.

He takes your cue and leans forward, sliding himself between your thighs. The moan he lets out is guttural and elongated, laced with the beautiful metallic tone of his voice. He lets go of your breasts and wraps his arms around your knees, putting your calves on each of his shoulders and continues to rut his hips against you. 

“Fuck. This feels so good”

You look up to see Donghyuck’s face, contorted in a frown that can only be described as desperate, his lips puffy and red from all the licking and kissing and sucking. 

He looks painfully sexy, and you momentarily imagine all the things you would do to him if the serotonin of your double orgasm and the alcohol in your belly weren’t weighing you down. You’d gladly stay up all night for him, tugging on his long hair as you’d let him bend you in any position he wanted. You bet that thickness would feel amazing stretching you out and you moan at the thought, your thighs flexing involuntarily and making him moan even more. 

Soon he has picked up his pace, the tip of his cock reappearing between your thighs more frequently and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

“Fuck fuck, I’m coming”

He suddenly pushes forward, almost collapsing on top of you as a string of satisfactory groans leave his lips. His hips still with a stagger and you entrancingly watch the ropes of white dripping from his cock and landing on your blouse. It was a mess, but you can worry about it in the morning.

Donghyuck fucks your thighs slowly for a little longer, elongating his pleasure for as long as he can and soothing the crescent moons his nails formed on your skin with his fingertips. He reaches one hand to his bedroom floor where he finds a -what you hope is- clean t-shirt, and pats his cum off your blouse as best as he could.

It has gotten late and you’re both exhausted, Donghyuck’s comfortable weight on top of you lulling you to sleep. He’s hugging your hips now, head resting on your stomach and occasionally kissing your hip bones tenderly. You’re not sure when you slip out of consciousness but you do hear Donghyuck mumble something against your skin, something the kiss of Morpheus doesn’t allow you to make out.

You wake up to a white ceiling. Not just any white ceiling- a cracked, full of moisture pockets ceiling and you wonder when you let the humidity mess up your apartment this much. The culprit of your awakening, the morning sun rays that shine right on your eyes; way too bright than what you’re used to, force your eyelids to open, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the abundant light. This isn’t your apartment.

The sight of a man that greets your barely recovered rentinas shocks you, and you rub your eyes just in case you’re stuck in a lucid dream or something. You see the mess of ash blonde hair and the pile of work clothes discarded on the floor and your mind soon is flooded with last night’s events, buzzed out in your foggy memory. You sense another buzz as well, a physical one this time and you wiggle in place when you feel something hard and metallic digging in your butt. You prod a little with your fingers, trying not to wake up Donghyuck too abruptly and you realise that yes, you’ve been sitting on a phone all night.

Shouldn’t it be a Tuesday today? It’s very bright for it to be that early but surely Donghyuck must have set an alarm for the both of you last night. You yawn involuntarily, deciding to play with your phone until he wakes up as well when the bright white display pulls all the blood from your face.

8:40. You have to be at work in 20 minutes.

“Donghyuck! Hyuck!”

You didn’t care to make your touches light. They were shoves, really, pushing at his shoulders frantically to get him off of you and pull him out of his slumber. He wakes up with a gasp, trying desperately to keep his balance and failing, to then fall unceremoniously on the floor.

“What the hell?”, he groans out with a hoarse, groggy version of his voice, “My head is pounding”

“It will hurt even more once I’m done with you! You didn’t set an alarm last night? Today’s a work day!’

With his eyes bulging, he launches himself forward, grabbing the phone from your hands. 

“Shit, shit, shit”. He’s fully awake now, hands rubbing his face to come up with the next logical steps to take, in order to have you both at work on time and looking presentable. “I have a mouthwash and hairbrush in my bathroom, I’ll get ready here”

“And what the fuck am I supposed to wear?”

“Yesterday’s clothes? Are you really that concerned about recycling an outfit right now?”

You roll your eyes, pushing your blouse down and dragging his comforter off your body. 

“Did you forget about this?”

You straighten out the fabric for him to see, and the big, grossly dried out cum stains aren’t hard to notice. His face looks worried, but not necessarily apologetic, and you can almost see the scenes from the sex you shared last night play through his eyes like a porn film. 

“Your skirt is fine, right? I’ll find a shirt that fits you”

You’re spitting out the fluorescent blue liquid when he timorously walks in the bathroom to leave the piece of clothing he promised. It smells heavily of those moth-repellent sachets and looks slightly wrinkled, like something he pulled out from the depths of his closet but you don’t really have the privilege of playing Suzy Menkes right now. You pull and tuck the fabric in creative ways, in order to style the garment into something you might walk into work wearing one day, yet it’s painfully obvious to you how misfitted it is; too big around the shoulders as one would expect from a man’s shirt.

You exit the bathroom after giving up, pressed by the limited time and the sound of Donghyuck’s uneasy steps through the door. You let him freshen up as well and use the time to collect your things that are scattered all over his place - he was kind enough to bring you your bra that was discarded in his living room floor along with his shirt - and soon you were rushing out of his house and into separate cabs so as not to raise suspicion.

The rest of the day was normal, well- according to this new definition of normalcy for you. Where everything and everyone seems to follow this movie script of what a typical company must look like, while you worry that someone will probe uninvitedly into your thoughts. God knows what they would fish out. A broken record player of Donghyuck’s moans when he cums, the burn of his thick sex rubbing against your thighs, the paths of his neck veins you memorized by heart. 

You shake your head to clear it from the intrusive thoughts, and click the refresh button of your emails. The sound of keys being tapped and printers being put to use lands you back to reality, and you calmly click on the new incoming message from the Sales Department.

It was Johnny.

You’d think that after having his dick down your throat for about half a minute, getting butterflies in your stomach from the mere sight of his email address would stop being a recurring event for you. But alas, here they were, tapping their little wings in a flutter that turns into a hurricane of anxiety, and you sarcastically thank the universe for having to deal with Johnny while looking like an 80’s librarian.

You walk up the stairs like your ankle’s dragging a ball and a chain, the piece of paper in your hands getting slightly ripped from the abuse of your nervous fingers. It was a stupid document, barely half filled with any valuable information and you think it can’t be worth the calories you burned with that trip. It certainly wasn’t worth entering hell, aka mr. Suh’s office, and just the thought of him waiting for you in his fitted suit and gelled back hair is making you light headed. If Johnny was Hades then Donghyuck definitely was Cerberus, guarding his boss with his three heads and his big dick.

You leave a breath out when you realise he isn’t there, making your way onto Johnny’s office with lighter feet. He smiles brightly when he sees you, handsome as ever, and you carefully leave the document on his messy desk.

“Well, isn’t it my favourite intern”

You laugh at his sing-song tone, enjoying how warm he was being today.

“You used to avoid me like the plague and now I’m your favourite?”

“You always were my favourite”, he winks, and pushes back his hair like he knows the effect it has on you, “If someone is avoiding anyone like the plague that’s Donghyuck. I would have sent him to you but I can’t find him anywhere.”

You gulp dryly at his words, an invisible awl pinching your chest. You could feel Donghyuck slipping away from every place that you might share, in a very subtle way, but still noticeable from you. He left the kitchen hastily when you walked in to make your coffee, excused himself out of the lunch break through which you always kept him company, and now he was gone as well. Was last night such a big mistake in his point of view?

“I’m kidding, I just wanted to see you.”

He motions you to come closer and you timidly oblige, serenaded by the sound of his voice but not missing the hunger his eyes hold. He’s still seated in his big leather office chair, thighs spread out in a way that turned you on embarrassingly much, and you fit yourself in the space between his long legs. 

“He is very jumpy though, Donghyuck. Do you know what happened to him?”

Your whole body tenses up, muscles hardening defensively. “Why would I know?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that you guys are so close.”

Close. Close as in having his knee between your thighs, close as in being pushed up against his chest and the elevator mirror. Close as in knowing how his tongue feels massaging your clit. 

“Have I seen you in that before?”

You’re confused with the sudden question and when you search for the context you realise he’s talking about your- Donghyuck’s shirt. Did he smell the sex on you? The overwhelming scent of pheromones and Donghyuck’s cologne that your nose just couldn’t ignore?

“I don’t think so”, you try to answer as nonchalantly as possible, “it’s new.”

“No”, Johnny insists, and pinches the fabric with his fingers. He’s very knowledgeable about fashion, always complimenting you on your outfit choices and you know he wouldn’t let this one go so easily. “I’m sure I’ve seen this before.”

You follow his line of sight towards the ivory fabric too, as if you expected there to be written “YOUR ASSISTANT GAVE ME THE BEST HEAD OF MY LIFE LAST NIGHT”, in a bright red marker. It was a prison, in the form of 99% cotton and 1% pure anxiety, and you know you had to distract Johnny out of this subject one way or the other.

“You like it?”, you ask seductively, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“I’d like you better without it.”

With just one strong, yet calculated pull he has you sat over the length of his thigh. Your hands land on his chest for stability, right over his pecks that fill your palms easily. There’s nothing you want more than to suck on those perfectly sculpted lips of his, but you’re not too faithful on Donghyuck’s mouthwash so you settle for the earlobe that isn’t pierced instead.

He loves the feeling, the activation of his erogenous area and the suction of your lips that resembles one of your favourite activities together.

“I like this shirt”, he starts, unbuttoning your chest into plain view, “and I love this skirt”

He runs his big hands over the plumpless of your ass, squeezing it then retracting his fingers back on your thighs. They’re cold against your burning skin and the contrast causes goosebumps to erupt in the shape of his handprint.

“You love all my skirts Johnny”

“I do. Because I can do this”

His fingers roll the hem of your skirt up your thigh, the only thing separating your heat with the smooth fabric of his slacks being your skimpy underwear. You’re pretty sure the wetness must be transferring to it already, your thoughts of Donghyuck and all the things he could do with you having you desperate for a release. Johnny pets your clit over your panties then, just a light graze of his finger that elicits a moan from you.

Your hips move on their own, slowly humping his thigh that flexes from under you. You grab his tie to help your movement when your pace picks up, enjoying his body heat that coated you. 

“Someone might see us.”

His desk chair was large, sure, but so was Johnny, and even though his back was facing the door of his office, no one could mistake the sight of you riding him as anything else. 

“I told you, Donghyuck keeps disappearing. And it seems like it won’t take you too long to cum with the way you moan like that, right babe?”

“Johnny…”

You were a whiny mess at this point, humping his leg to reach your high. He was nice enough to help you, his hands guiding you as you mess up all over him, lips stuck on the patch of skin right under your ear.

“You know, I kind of miss you calling me Mr. Suh.” he whispers as he’s sucking on your neck, and you shiver at the tone of his voice, “What do I have to do next time you come over to have you call me like that?”

You can’t contain your whimpers anymore, the stinging tears of arousal threatening to roll down your face, so you close your eyes to keep the moisture in. Everything is just too much, the pleasure of your clit rubbing on him, his nails that dig in the flesh of your hips, the heavy suggestions in his words; your orgasm was hanging by a thread and it was a matter of seconds for it to snap. And it did snap, with a bite on your neck, and along with it your eyes snapped open as well.

Donghyuck was staring right back at you.

Your eyes crossed in pleasure, blurry vision making it hard to focus on him. You were falling apart over Johnny’s body, legs shaking and insides melting with his praise. Donghyuck took the sight in from the opened door, eyes studying your face of pleasure and bare chest decorated with Johnny’s kisses peeking from his own shirt. You’d be lying had you dismissed the fact that his presence intensified your orgasm times a hundred. The exposure of your act, the naughtiness of getting caught and by him of all people. You watched as he retreated outside from the office with silent steps, to give you privacy or recover from the embarrassment or both.

And Donghyuck would be lying too, had he said he didn’t like the sight. The mere memory of your face all fucked out flushed his own in crimson red. He remembered it all clearly, from your plush lips to Johnny’s mess of a hair, to the tremble of your body. It refused to leave his mind, the scene of you getting satisfaction from another man, but not because he wanted to erase it. He thought he fit right in, right in that scene between you and his boss.  

You texted him later that day, apologizing for what he had to witness and promising him you would return the shirt as soon as you washed it. He politely allowed you to keep it, not at all acknowledging the incident from earlier, nor the night you spent together. You didn’t have the guts to ask, for you didn’t know that Donghyuck didn’t regard last night as a mistake, like you thought. He was tired of boiling in the guilt of his feelings, selfishly admitting to himself that he did not regret a single thing. He was into you, he meant every word that came out of his mouth, so why was he avoiding you all day yesterday? He was still the fucking coward.

The next day came rolling along, and with it came a long list of things you wanted to avoid. The first one was arguably dealing with your best friend, the lengthy paperwork you had to fill out being a close second.  

Your mind was occupied with a plethora of thoughts, with Johnny holding the main spot. You’d seen him in your sleep last night, starring in the extremely detailed wet dream your brain fabricated for you, hot breaths and deep thrusts forcing you into the disappointing consciousness of today’s morning.

And the pictures he had sent you right after you decided to get up weren’t helping either. His tall, half naked build occupied most of the shot, skin glistening in the after-shower steam. His toothbrush was hanging from his foamy mouth, in an attempt to make the picture look nonchalant, yet you knew his motives. You let your eyes drink up the sight of his defined abdomen, then moved downwards along the dark happy trail that peeked from the towel, loosely hanging from his waist. Hip bones teasing you and all. Just drop the fucking towel Johnny.

Needless to say, you were a mess when you arrived at the office. The cats in heat outside of your window, the phallic shaped baguette your baker generously treated you with this morning; everything seemed to remind you of the heat between your legs that you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore. You tried rubbing your thighs, drowning in the paperwork, even locking your phone in one of your drawers so as not to be tempted to look at Johnny’s thirst trap again. But he had won.

You grab a bunch of documents that seemed important enough, shove them in your favourite binder, and make your way to Johnny’s office upstairs. 

You knew you had to deal with Donghyuck. It was the unavoidable repercussion of messing up your life like that, getting men that were too good looking for this boring ass company tangled up in what seemed to be a simple internship. Taking a deep breath, then two more for good measure, you start to strut confidently in a straight line that led to Johnny’s office door.

“He’s on call, come back later.”

Your head instinctively turns to the source of the sound, to find Donghyuck staring at the display of his laptop that seemed to be much more interesting than you. The matter-of-fact way he formed his sentences was not unlike him, yet something in you begged for a little bit of attention. Blame it on how horny you’ve been all morning, or the fact that now that you’ve seen him naked, the strict tone affects you much more than it should.

Bothered by your thoughts and thinking about having to sit back at your office for the rest of the work day, you let the binder slip from your hands and drop on the wooden floor. You lean down to collect the scattered pieces of paper, your heels making it hard for you to keep your balance easily, and soon enough you sense a movement from behind you.

“No panties huh?”

It was supposed to be a surprise. Payback for the dirty thoughts Johnny planted in your head this morning. You’d walk in all innocently, sit right across his desk and give him a little Basic Instinct Sharon Stone moment. Then leave him high and dry again, while mentally keeping a note to clear out all your plans for the weekend. But see, he couldn’t give you what you wanted after all, and your resolve started to break. Whatever it was you wanted, you wanted it now.

You get up, unfolding your body slowly and refusing to look at Donghyuck, much like he did when you walked inside. The smirk playing on your lips couldn’t be concealed through your voice.

“Like what you see?”

You gasp as he presses up against you, the only contact you have with one another being his hard-on that nudges your ass. Following your body’s orders, you push back against him too, and you can tell the breath he lets out is ragged and full of tension.

He reaches for your binder with an arm around you, flipping through the pages as he sucks his teeth in disapproval.

“These are last week’s reports. Are you really here for these or are you looking for another quickie with Johnny?” A moan escapes you then, and the little thrust that Donghyuck allows himself drives you both crazy. “Thought so. How insatiable are you? I made you cum two nights ago, Johnny helped you out yesterday. If you really are that desperate you could’ve just come to me for help, doll”

His soft palm rests on the front of your thigh, slowly sliding his way under your skirt. You squirm in his hold in anticipation, and you have to bite your tongue to hold in the noises that threaten to leave you. 

“Donghyuck, Johnny is sitting right through that door. He could come out any minute now and see us”

“And?”

“Your boss is sitting right through that door. You could get fired”

“I could die after this”

His thumb ficks your clit swiftly, and Donghyuck takes this opportunity to slip his other one inside your gaping mouth.

“But-“

“Shh. Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby”

You’re melting in his hold at this point, your back still resting against his chest, lips sucking his digit. The scent of his cologne that you’ve grown so familiar with overwhelms you, painting all your surroundings in a red tint of lust.

“Spread your legs for me”. You oblige with his orders immediately, your arousal not allowing you to keep him waiting. “Wider”.

You take a quick look behind your shoulder to check that the door is still, indeed, closed, only to be met face to face with Donghyuck. His breath is hot against your face, eyes locked on his thumb toying with your lower lip and you completely forget what you initially turned around for. The kiss was natural, your lips melding easily with his ones. The need for him washes over you like a heatwave and you lift your skirt to urge him to continue before you go insane. 

He gets the hint and moves his hand lower, middle finger tracing your opening ever so slightly. It makes you shiver and you realise how quiet the room has fallen, the only source of sound coming muffled through the closed door to Johnny’s office. It excites you and it must show through the wetness between your lower lips, and Donghyuck patiently collects it all. He transfers the moisture over the bud of your clit, his finger smoothly massaging the sensitive skin. It feels divine and there’s no way you’d ask him to stop yet you know there’s something else Donghyuck is after, the sweet tightness that he didn’t get to experience that night at his apartment.

It was a bit much to fuck you out there like that, even for his exhibitionistic tendencies, but nothing could stop him from feeling the next best thing. 

His first finger enters you unhurriedly, careful of your reactions. You moan out his name and he moans at how tight you are, soft pussy practically sucking his finger in. He soon enters his ring finger as well, slowly moving them inside you until you feel every stretch and curl. Your wetness starts to drip at this point, coating his fingers with your juices.

“Such a dirty girl, making all this mess at my office”

The leisure pace ruins you, your eyes shut close in search of patience. You feel his other palm move from under your skirt as well, resting flat against your lower abdomen. He wants to feel himself inside you.

“Donghyuck, please. More”

A chuckle is heard from your left ear, and you can vividly imagine how his face must look like now. The cocky smirk, the tongue poking the inside of his cheek. The next pump has you muffling your whimpers with the back of your fist, his fingers curling just right and fucking straight into your g-spot. 

“More? Look at you. Pretty slut.” 

He’s full on finger fucking you now, and swallowing your moans is gradually becoming more and more difficult. The world crumbles from under your feet and you let yourself get carried away in the intense pleasure, the fast pumping making your legs shake.

“You’re gonna cum?”, he whispers again, and you can only respond with a nod, “That’s my fucking girl”

The orgasm’s intense, shaking you as you bite your hand and hold onto Donghyuck for extra support. He continues to move his fingers afterwards, drawing out your euphoria for as long as he can, then finally leaves you empty once your moans have died down. You immediately cover yourself up again once you sober up from your high, suddenly embarrassed by Donghyuck’s intense stare. He’s moving his eyes through all the features of your face, only for them to fall frozen on your lips, and lifts his hand up to rest his two fingers over them. You get his initiative and put them in your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue.

“Unless you want us both to get fired I think you should go back to your office. I don’t think I can contain myself around you”

You release his digits with a pop, your eyes full of seduction.  

“What would you do to me?”

Donghyuck growls at your question, turning you around so that you’re fully face to face and chest to chest. 

“You’d look so pretty on your knees, mouth full of cock”. He grabs a handful of your ass, bringing you flush against him and proceeds to grind his painfully hard dick between your thighs. Your noses touch and you feel dizzy at the proximity; the words he mutters against your cum coated lips. “I’d peel those clothes off of you, find the nearest mirror. Stretch you out against the glass so that you see how good you take it.”

You shiver as a response, then force yourself to put some distance between you before you do something stupid. He kindly helps you collect your things in silence, those useless documents that were laying scattered on the floor, and in a moment of weakness you let him pin you against the wall right before you go.There was something so addictive about him and your chemistry, and your lips burn at the memory of his kisses. You’re not sure how much longer you can contain that hunger anymore.

The end of a shift and the beginning of another overtime. It felt like deja vu at this point, after all the countless extra hours you’ve put into the internship, seeing people grab their briefcases and their car keys as they empty the space around you. You take a moment to appreciate the view of the setting sun from the small window of your office, inhaling deeply as you wrap the hair that’s been bothering you in a ponytail. Your neck hurts and the tension of your body is translating into a dull pain, so you stretch it a little, bobbing your head from side to side.

You jump a little in your seat when you feel a set of hands on your shoulder blades. They massage the sore spots, treating the muscle knots and helping your blood flow freely. It was obvious Donghyuck didn’t have enough of you earlier, and you pout at having to turn down another visit to his apartment because of your overtime duties. 

You were ready to scold him off, tell him you’re busy and that you promise to make it up for him another time, when you feel his soft lips kissing the most sensitive spot on the slope of your neck. You let out a long sigh, subconsciously exposing your neck more for him, and a high pitched whine rumbles in your chest. It’s released as a moan of Donghyuck’s name.

“Donghyuck?!”

You freeze in the uncomfortable arch, your ears confused by the deepness of the voice belonging to the man behind you. Not even the confusion laced in it can cover up the lack of airiness and clarity you’re used to when it comes to Donghyuck’s tone. It’s Johnny.

“I… We-“

You’re left speechless, clueless as to what to say next. You know you don’t have to explain yourself, it’s not like you and Johnny are exclusive. Yet his shocked face at the sound of his assistant’s name coming so lewdly off your lips has your brain scrambling to find some sort of explanation. Thankfully, he’d interrupt your panic in a second.

“The big boss wants you upstairs. I offered to come get you.”

He doesn’t sound angry or upset, nor disappointed. It’s a fresh air of relief before you realize that this is not what you should worry about right now. What the hell does the CEO of the company want to talk to you about? Are you getting the boot? It must be it, but why? Your numbers have been great, you’re always on time - except that one morning, but technically it was Donghyuck’s fault - and you’ve been praised by your supervisor numerous times during your internship.

Unless- What if there’s cameras in the office? 

You start to panic at the thought of an involuntary sex tape become the cause of your dismissal, so caught up in your thoughts that you’re completely unaware you’ve spent the entire trip up the stairs with Johnny in silence. When you enter the CEO’s office, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears, you notice that all of the department’s supervisors are present in the impromptu meeting as well. You sit next to Johnny, in an attempt to calm yourself down, and you see the head of your department send you an encouraging smile.

“Shall we start?”

A briefing of your work in the company ensued, numbers and graphs that wouldn’t make sense to anyone other than the people in the room. Thirty minutes have passed and no surveillance tape has been whipped out, turning you more confused than ever. The numbers were good, the words from your supervisor are complimentary, so why would they fire you? 

“That is all for the briefing. After seeing your progress and the contribution you’ve made to the company, we’ve decided to offer you a permanent position, if you’d be interested of course”

Oh my god. You can’t believe this day finally came. Your face was glowing, and you tried to convince yourself to stay calm while you talked about your new position and the raise in salary that came with it. With shaky hands you sign the documents, and your boss congratulates you once again, dismissing you off your overtime. 

You waited for everyone to leave the hallway before jumping in Johnny’s arms. He caught you easily, strong build supporting you and lifting your feet off the ground before landing you safely again.

“Good job intern, I’m so proud of you”

“Hey, I’m not an intern anymore!”, you complain by bumping his chest with your fist and he pats your head lovingly in return.

“Why did you have to be in the room as well? Did you know about my promotion?”

“No, actually, they just told me an hour ago. It was hard to keep myself from telling you everything right away.”

The excitement coursed through you, and a sudden urge to kiss him until your lips were numb overwhelmed you. You were ready to turn your thoughts into reality, when you saw Donghyuck from the corner of your eye, instinctively smiling at your obvious happiness.

“What’s the occasion?”

“I got promoted!”

Donghyuck gasped, a huge smile spreading across his face. Your excitement’s contentious so he tackles you without a second thought, his embrace so tight that you can barely breathe. You can see that he’s trying his best to contain a kiss, his glance moving back and forth between you and Johnny. He still kept a possessive hand around your waist once he let you down however, a gesture that could seem innocent yet you knew better.

Johnny smirks at the sight of you two, confidence dripping off his body and making you shiver. You get dizzy at the thought of Donghyuck not knowing that Johnny knows about you, yet Donghyuck knowing about Johnny but not giving a fuck.

“So how do we celebrate?”, the older man asks, with a playful tone that might as well be your active imagination.

“Wanna go for a drink?”, Donghyuck suggests, boldly keeping his eyes at you only while he does so.

You pout in thought, humming pensively when an idea pops into your head. 

“How about you come over my place for one?”

You should have thought this through more thoroughly, is all you can think about as you’re trapped between Johnny and Hyuck on your couch. Well, not really- there is a sizable distance between you three, yet the atmosphere in the room is so dense it’s nearly palpable. Three glasses, half-full of the alcohol of their choice are sitting on the coffee table in front of you, and you awkwardly stare at the sweat that falls from your glass and forms rings on the wooden surface. 

Your body has loosened up from your drink yet your heart can’t stop racing, not when Donghyuck is looking at you like that. He looks like a man starved for days while you’re the meal presented deliciously in his arm’s reach, and he can’t wait to have you alone and curve his growing appetite. And you ignore Johnny’s cheeky smiles and flirtatious winks as well, carrying on a conversation that doesn’t belong in the inescapable tone of the room but flows easily, until it ends and you’re met with heavy silence and the ticking analog clock on your wall again.

You ask them if they would like some water, getting up before you receive an answer, and you yelp a little when you feel a strong arm halting your trip to the kitchen before it even started. You lose your balance and wobble a little in your spot before unceremoniously landing on Johnny’s lap.

He doesn’t help you up, but loops and arm around your waist instead, holding you in place. In circumstances other than the ones that have already made their mark on your sexual history, staying in this position with his assistant still in the room would be highly inappropriate.

“You’re all we need”, he reassures you with a voice made of silk, then repositions you with a jerk of his knee, your heat grinding right against his half hard member.

“When were you gonna tell me?”

You open and close your mouth sequentially like a fish out of water, choking out a reply after the insistent tick-tock that resonates through the room and gives a tempo to your anxiety.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know what I’m talking about. A little birdy told me I’m not the only one enjoying this perfect little body. Is that right Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck’s eyes bulged out of his skull, almost choking in the sip of the drink he was enjoying when the unexpected question hit him. Sizzling heat floods your face as he stares at you sternly, and you shake your head defensively.

“I didn’t tell him-“

“Well no, not exactly”, Johnny interrupts and places his big hands over your thighs, “I was just kissing her neck, trying to get her to relax, and lo and behold, she starts moaning your name like its a fucking reflex. You’ve really gotten into her head, apparently”

Donghyuck swells up in pride, that much is evident, yet he’s way too distracted to say anything in response, too busy staring at Johnny’s fingers spreading your thighs apart to expose your damp underwear. Johnny’s lips are planted on your neck, teeth nibbling on your earlobe and you wince when you feel the sharp sting of a slap on your inner thigh.

“You aren’t being a good hostess, baby. Open up your legs more, let Hyuck see your pretty pussy. You remember what word to say when you want me to stop, right?” You whimper the designated safe word while opening your thighs further, digging the heels of your feet in the couch’s pillows. “Good girl”

He dips a hand through the band of your underwear, busying his fingers under the fabric. You moan as they slide through the wetness and he smiles a cocky smile when he sees Donghyuck palming himself through his slacks. He removes the skimpy thong with the help of your hips moving to assist him, to then push the fabric inside your mouth with little to no resistance from you.

“Isn’t this pussy divine? I swear when I bottomed out inside of her the first time I thought I lost my damn mind”

He toys with your opening, only dipping half a finger in to challenge Donghyuck to pay attention.

“We haven’t actually…”

“She only let you play with her?”, Johnny teases him, then pushes his point and middle finger all the way inside you, making his assistant’s imagination run wild at what your pussy must feel like sucking him in. “You’re missing out man”

“I’ve made her cum probably twice as many times as you’ve ever have”

You chuckle at his smart remark and Johnny glares at you, softly slapping your pussy to keep you at bay.

“No one addressed you. You’ll get to make all the noise you want in a sec, baby”

You squirm in place, letting out a muffled apology through your gag and Donghyuck looks seriously affected by the sight.

“Isn’t she obedient?”, Johnny asks while grazing your g-spot, and you moan from both the praise and the stimulation.

Hyuck unbuttons his pants at the lewd sound, pulling his dick from the slit of his boxers and you admire his impressive girth. He lets his body decline comfortably on the pillows behind him, spreading his own legs at shoulder-length. The mouth-watering sight of him jerking himself slowly with the aid of his precum clouds your vision; you’re just as needy for him as he is for you.

“She’s a little brat”

“I guess I know how to make her listen”. Johnny lifts your dress over your hips, then helps you off of it through the hem. With a rehearsed flick of his fingers he discards your bra as well, leaving you completely naked for Donghyuck’s eyes to feast on. His hands immediately grope your breasts, playing with the mounds and putting on a show. “I could undress you over and over and over again”

You feel his fingers retract from inside your pussy to form a ‘V’ over your lower lips, making your hole even more visible along with the wetness that’s dripping out of it.

“Will you let Donghyuck use your pussy baby? I feel a little greedy using it all on my own”

You groan in the anticipation and let your head fall back on Johnny’s shoulder, nodding pathetically and mumbling through your thong.

“Oh god, yes, yes, yes”

Donghyuck has heard enough, and with Johnny urging him on he’s standing half naked in front of you in seconds. His boxers are discarded next to his trousers on the floor, tie hanging loosely from the collar. He still has a hand wrapped around his angry sex, red tip and veiny details making you swoon.

“Go on”, Johnny encourages him, “she’s more than wet enough”

Donghyuck rests his left knee on the cushion of the couch, right between your foot and Johnny’s thigh. A little foiled square is getting ripped by his nimble fingers and you bewitchedly watch him wrap up his cock. He slaps it over your entrance a couple times, coming in contact with the other man’s fingers that are still keeping you fully exposed, then finally thrusts himself inside you. A conglomerate of what seems like three different curses leave his lips, eyebrows furrowed in a pleasureful expression.

“Fuck”

“Tight, isn’t she?”

“So fucking tight baby, damn”

Johnny may have a cock so lengthy that most men are envious of, yet Donghyuck’s girth is really something else. It stretches you out more than you've had in months, dull pain getting numb with every release of serotonin from your brain. You almost cry when he removes the entire thing out of you.

“I have to feel that again”

And indeed he does, submerging himself in the tightness of your walls only his fingers had the privilege of experiencing thus far. You feel amazing wrapped up around him, pussy hot and burning in desire as he dips himself further inside you, pushing you up against Johnny’s chest. You hiss in the sting and whimper softly, prompting the man behind you to ungag you finally.

“What is it baby? Hyuckie’s dick is too big for your tight little hole?”

You nod affirmatively while keeping eye contact with the man mentioned, big glossy eyes awakening something dark inside him. He wants to ruin you.

“Maybe you don’t fuck her hard enough”

You can’t see Johnny from the way you’re seated but you know he must have a smile on his face, well aware of the confidence he possesses for his own abilities in the bedroom. His big hands leave your labia and make their way over to your calves, bending you in a way that is almost painful.

“How about you show me how it’s done, then?”

Donghyuck is always up for a challenge, so he wraps a hand loosely around your throat so as to gain leverage. He pulls his hips backwards, gaining momentum, then slaps them forcefully against your own. You moan loudly at the depth, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to as he’s nailing you against the couch. Johnny’s there to catch your sounds with his lips, eating them up eagerly as he slips his tongue inside you and continues to play with your nipples. 

“Is that hard enough for you?”

Continuing his brutal pace restlessly, Donghyuck tightens his grasp around your neck, enough to hamper your blood flow and drool around the other man’s mouth. You’re so out of it at this point, dirty sound after another leaving your lips and you gasp at Johnny’s fingers that are suddenly circling around your clit.

“I’m close, please”, you manage to whimper from between them, Hyuck’s pace only fastening in the sound of your plea. The tip of his cock, thick like the rest of him, grazes against your sensitive spot again and again, not missing a single thrust. He digs a thumb in the softness of your cheek, pulling you away from Johnny and connecting his forehead with yours. By the sounds of his grunts it won’t take long until he comes as well.

“Made just for me”, he whispers against your lips, and you gasp when you feel the heat overflowing in your sex area, vision blurry as you let go and scream in complete pleasure. Donghyuck basks in the confirmation of how good he’s made you feel, hips stuttering as he empties his cum in you and inside the condom. His thigh muscles may be contracting in tiredness yet he doesn’t halt his movements, milking your orgasm for all its worth. You’re basically putty in Johnny’s lap at this point, sex drunk and high from your release.  

“Not bad”, he admits, even though he had some credit to claim with the fast fingerwork he showed earlier. He holds your thighs again, closing them up to help you relax and you wince at the pain in your haunch, the result of staying in a flexibility-demanding position for so long.

You wait until your heartbeat slows down, turning around to face Johnny as Donghyuck ties up and discards the used condom. He sends you a warm smile, petting the messy hair out of your line of sight and you relax in the feeling of safety, batting your eyes up at him cutely.

“What about you?”, you practically meow, moaning softly as you feel his boner twitching from beneath his trousers.

“What about me? Didn’t you have enough?” 

He knows your appetite, knows there’s no way you’d be satisfied by one round only. And how could you, when he sits so deliciously from under you, his big body reeling you in. You know what he wants to hear.

“Please, Johnny”, you plead, playing with the thin tie still neatly keeping his shirt in place. “I need you”

“You need what?”, he growls against your lips, trying to coax as much desperation out of you as possible.

“I need your big cock inside me, please”

“Ass up”

You get up from your seat, complying with his commands and getting on your knees before your tired legs betray you and leave you a mess on the floor.  His hands cup your ass in admiration, giving it a little spank before he slides them over your dorsals. A careful push forces you to arch your back even more, and your cheeks burn at the eager position he has bent you in. You shiver when his cock enters you halfway.

“You’re still not used to me babe?”

“It’s not my fault that you’re so fucking big, Johnny”

“Then maybe I should stay still? Since you can’t take it?”

“No!”, you oppose, tears of frustration threatening to spill out of their ducts, “I can take it, just move!”

You howl as he bottoms out, his long length making you lose your mind. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything more than his fingers and you’ve missed the way he fits inside of you. You hear shuffling from behind you and soon he’s bending over you, wrapping his tie around your neck. With a pull you’re flush against his chest again, and the buttons of his shirt are already leaving little indentations on your skin. You wish it bruises.

“Do you remember what I wanted you to call me the other day?”, he whispers next to the shell of your ear, dark tone sending shivers down your spine.

“Mr. Suh”

“Exactly. Now will you let me fuck you the way I want?”

“Yes sir”

“What a good girl”

Johnny slams into you fully, every pull of his hips resulting in the restriction of your airflow. A game of wanting more of him and sacrificing your oxygen for it begins, and it doesn’t take long for you to turn completely into a submissive mess for him. He’s whispering filth in your ears, hips keeping their inhuman tempo until you’re all out of energy and fall nonvocal. Donghyuck gets hard again at the sight.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Johnny, who is more than willing to share your body for the pleasure he’s after- at least part of it. He waits until the younger man’s dick is fully solid in his grasp, standing tall and red right in front of you and he lets go of the constraint of your neck without notice.

You fall face first on Donghyuck’s thick thighs, his quick reflexes catching you from a harder impact. His member is twitching right next to your face, tip grazing against your left temple and he helps your head up by wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail that his fingers hold together. You wrap your lips around his tip obediently, twirling your tongue around his member until you reach his hairy base. He tastes a bit rubbery from the condom earlier but you choose to ignore it, focusing on hollowing your cheeks around him instead.

Every hard thrust of Johnny’s propels you forward onto Donghyuck’s cock, the bobbing motion natural yet you struggle to take them both inside you. Donghyuck enjoys the vibrations of the moans you make when the other man hits a deep spot in your pussy, Johnny groans when you clench around him as Donghyuck abuses your throat. It’s a give and take of intense pleasure and you know you can’t take much more, the men’s moans growing louder with every thrust. 

“Do you like Hyuck’s cock needy baby? Have you finally had enough?”

He punctuates each word with a slam, one harder than the other, and the rope inside your belly snaps with the arrival of your second orgasm. You try your hardest to stay in place, beg your thighs not to let you collapse as you let Johnny drive you into overstimuation.

“Yes, sir. I love it”

Johnny grunts at the sound of his title, so dirty coming muffled by another man’s dick that it’s enough to send him over the edge. You feel the hot cum filling up the condom inside you, and his spurts take so long that the little tweaks coax another orgasm from you.

Donghyuck drinks up the scene unveiling in front of him, a steady hand forcing your jaw open as he starts to jerk off quickly over your face.

“I want to see your tongue covered in my cum”

You lick your lips seductively in response, opening your mouth up to welcome his ropes of white liquid that leave his slit a second after. They fill your mouth little by little, painting the inside of it and you hold your tongue out to show him his creation, a couple of drops dripping from the corners before you swallow as much as you can. He collects whatever’s left on your jaw, pushing it in and letting you suckle on his thumb dumbly before letting go.

You collapse on the couch, exhausted after giving all that your body could handle after a work day, and you sit in silence as Johnny massages your feet and Donghyuck kisses your neck to calm you down. Your head hurts from the sex and the possibilities that this new combination can bring to your love life, belly tingling in excitement at the same time. You don’t know where this will lead, or when will be the next time you’ll indulge in the company of the both of them stuck on your body. All that you know is that this promotion, at least the celebration of it, tastes really, really sweet. 

thank you for reading ❤ feedback is much appreciated! If you liked Promotion you can check out Work for it to see where it all started! :) 

[yoditorian]

reverb - painkiller

pls enjoy this experimental something and do not look me in the eye. i don’t know if it’ll happen again, thank you. no one tell my mum.

main masterlist // series masterlist

word count: 3.5k // warnings: SMUT, vaginal sex, fingering, biting, injury, a lil gore, needle, vaguest hint of a blood kink (you know he has one), space condoms, consent is sexy, din is ooc but he always is in things like this, reader is gn!afab bc work with what you got, swears, overuse of italics, this was meant to just be filthy but some feelings snuck in there idk how, 18+ pls no babies

Smoke clings to the inside of your nose, itching all the way up to your eyes and back down your throat. You’re sure your voice will be hoarse for days after this.

Guild havens never stay that way for very long, there’s always someone who owes somebody else credits and before anyone knows it there’s blaster bolts and punches flying every way you turn. You’ve made it this far unscathed at least, crouched behind a crate in the street, as hunters you’d been laughing alongside less than an hour ago fire off shots at each other in the marketplace. 

You catch a glimpse of sunlight glinting off a helmet a little ways down from you, someone without the good sense to keep their fucking head down. Or someone who doesn’t need to. 

Mando’s been on your radar for a little while, from a team job about a year ago. No one had been particularly happy to be working together, bounty hunters aren’t exactly team players, but it was a good payout. Nobody in their right mind would even think about turning their nose up at a number with that many zeroes. 

You’ve run into him a handful of times since then, and he’s always been polite. Not the stoic, almost robotic politeness he seems to extend to anyone else you’ve seen him interact with. But genuine - you’d hesitate to call it warmth - certainly something along those lines. 

His ship is a few bays down from yours at the docks, the looming shadow of the Razor Crest would be hard to miss even if this planet wasn’t barely inhabited, visible even now just over the tiled roofs of the little town. Your stomach had jumped a little when you touched down, if only because you knew you’d get to at least catch sight of him. There’s always been something that intrigued you about the man under all that honour and firepower. Maybe it’s the armour. 

It’s unspoken, but Mando picks his way further down the line of abandoned stalls turned shields until he’s just barely concealed by the one closest to you. The dusty gap between his shelter and yours is maybe just about your height across, but it may as well stretch for miles. There’s no way either of you is making it over without getting hit. 

“There’s hardly anyone on the North side, it’s all concentrated down this end! If we head up the street we should be able to get to the dockyard without a problem!” He calls across the gap to you, tone as devastatingly authoritative as it always is.

Except, North is back the way he came, which means he wants you to brave the gap. He wants you to cross fucking No Man’s Land, like a walking target, when he’s the one wearing beskar. You desperately want him to be joking. 

You know he isn’t.

Teeth clenched, you look right into the blank visor and pray you’re not staring at his forehead when you exhale sharply and dart out of your hiding spot when the firing lulls. Big mistake. 

You’re almost clear, so very very close to being in the shelter of the marquee stall, when a blaster bolt catches your shoulder. 

Mando pulls you right into him, so close your heart might flutter if your entire upper arm didn’t feel like it was burning from the inside out. You try your best to breathe through the pain, but it’s not quite enough. He produces a scrap of fabric apparently right out of thin air and ties it tightly around the sizzling wound in your shoulder. You’re dizzy and he knows it, head starting to lull forward with the shock. A sharp slap to your cheek has you wide awake.

“You with me?” He has to shout, the sound of bolts hitting plaster and rock suddenly far too loud in your ears. You make the mistake of glancing back across the gap of open space and spot a little chunk of your arm laying in the dust. Swallowing the nausea, you nod with a grimace, and you think he might be smiling at you. 

He’s right though, the big metal bastard. The further you follow him up the street, ducked down behind the stalls, the quieter the firefight seems to be. Which is just as well, because your arm is screaming.

“Mando!” You have to shout to get him to actually stop, to let you breathe for a second. He glances back at you, taking stock of the way your eyelids flutter and your breathing labours. The bit of cape he’d ripped off without a second thought is already soaked through and dripping down to your elbow. Fuck. 

“Just a little further, okay?” If you didn’t know better, you’d call that tremble in his voice something dangerous. Desperation or worry or fear. But that might be the blood loss talking. It’s far from the first time you’ve caught a bolt, accidentally or on purpose, but it never seems to hurt any less. 

“Okay, okay.” You breathe, and he allows you that. You can’t quite find the energy to thank him before he’s hauling ass up the last few stalls to the end of the street.

Mando takes the lead, and ends up watching your backs too as you concentrate on staying on your feet. You’ve lost more blood than this before, but you’ve also never seen a solid chunk of your own flesh start to congeal on the dusty cobblestones of a marketplace until today. It’s a lot to process as the adrenaline starts to fade. 

You’re not really paying attention to where exactly you’re following him to, only that if you stop moving you won’t likely be able to keep upright, but the clank of corrugated metal under your feet is reassuring as he ushers you up a ramp. To his ship, presumably. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re a little annoyed he didn’t pick yours. It’s a little comfier, a little more homely, a lot less utilitarian. At least if you passed out in your own hull you’d probably be able to stumble and land somewhere soft.

You’re vaguely aware of the rumble of engines beneath you as you find a crate to collapse on, knees shaky, but your brain is a little too fuzzy to really make the connection. Medkit, you need a medkit. Only you have no fucking idea where to start looking for it, Mando probably wouldn’t appreciate you ransacking his shit.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, your shiny saviour descends the ladder the moment you think of him. 

“We’ll drop out over Nevarro and jump back so you can get your ship. They should be done shooting each other by the time we get there.”

Maybe it’s been longer since you sat down than you thought. Hard to tell the difference between solid ground and hyperspace when your vision is tilting sideways anyway.

He’s pulling a box out of a panel in the wall and crossing the hold in two steps to get to you. Medkit, there it is. 

“I’ve been looking for that.” You mumble, watching as he sorts through the contents for whatever it is he’s looking for.

“You haven’t moved.”

“I was getting there.”

“Hold still.” Mando sets the box off to one side and helps you sit up just enough to undo the makeshift bandage and wiggle your jacket off of your arm. He pulls the box closer and you watch him move the cauteriser out of the way in favour of grabbing a bacta shot instead. Your hand shoots out, grabs his wrist, and he drops the packet in shock.

“Don’t waste it on me.” 

You can feel the eyeroll you get in response.

“Shut up.” He growls and that catches you off guard.

Well, it has the desired effect at least. You’re too jolted by the fact he actually has the balls to tell you, point blank, to stop that you don’t notice he’s ripped the packet open and plunged the whole thing right in your wound until he’s done it. 

“Bitch.”

“It’ll heal quicker and that way,” He tears open a different packet and slaps a patch over the hole, slowly knitting itself back together, “You won’t scar.”

The petulant part of you wants to argue that maybe you wanted to scar. Maybe scars are badass and sexy and every time you’d look at it you’d get to remember the time a giant shiny idiot got you shot. The argument seems to fade as the bacta spreads through your system and your brain comes back to you. 

And maybe it isn’t the time to make a joke because he’s just stabbed you in the shoulder with the biggest needle you’ve ever seen, but it slips out anyhow.

“I’m sure I read somewhere that orgasms are a great painkiller.”

Oh. Yeah, no, that was definitely the wrong thing to say.

Because now you’re wide a-fucking-wake and he’s looking right at you. Not just looking, but looking. Even with his fucking helmet in the way, you know he’s having a little trouble swallowing your words. A mistake on his part, honestly, because now you’re pretty sure you’re not joking. 

“I mean, they might not be. But if you wanna test the theory.” You try your best to pass it off as a bad joke, forcing a laugh that tenses your shoulder a little too much, and you grimace. Mando still hasn’t moved. Very, very bad call. So bad, in fact, that you have to ask him to repeat himself as you try to scramble for the words to fix it.

“I said, okay. If,” He inhales sharply, “If you’re sure you want to.”

Silly suggestion, really. You’ve wanted to since you first set eyes on his broad, shiny shoulders. 

The energy in the hold feels charged, suddenly, like one of you will go flying over to the other side of the ship if you touch. To your surprise, Mando’s the first to reach out.

There’s still a splash of blood on your cheekbone, not quite dried, that smears when he cups your cheek in his hand and brushes his thumb over it. Din tries to ignore the way it makes his cock jump. 

“Helmet stays on. Try to change that and you’ll die for your efforts, on my cock or not.”

There’s something deliciously sinful about the threat, the way he growls it out when you grab at him, and suddenly you wonder if every fear your parents ever had for you has come to fruition. Whatever it is, it goes straight to your clit.

“Kinky.”

Mando won’t bare anything to you, you realise after a beat of silence, but you breathe a sigh of relief as he moves to unlatch his armour. So it’s at least a little more dignified than the sloppy fuck you imagine you might have had with him behind a cantina or up against the wall of your ship in an abandoned dockyard. To his credit, if he’s as desperate as you are he doesn’t show it. Maybe he’s stripping his armour a little faster, a bit more carelessly than he might if this were a regular occurrence. Although, you can’t really blame him, your own hands are fumbling at your gun belt and the buttons on your pants.

You’re trying not to jolt your shoulder too much, the ache has settled deep in your bones now, but you’re not quite at the right angle to strip and you’re certainly in no shape to do it quickly. You can’t help but giggle when the thick material gets caught around your knees, dropping your head back to the storage box behind you with a breathless smile. A sharp gasp of static knocks you off guard, head whipping up to find the source, and you watch as Mando abandons his own undressing to untangle you gently. He laughed. That was a laugh. 

Oh, god. You’re in way too deep, already. And he hasn’t even fucked you yet. 

Only, as you peel off just enough layers to let him touch you, the more you start to hesitate. Maybe it’s silly, Mando will definitely think so, but still you wonder. How are you even supposed to start this whole thing if you can’t kiss him? He catches your jaw in a warm hand. A warm, gloveless, hand. Attached to a warm body wearing just a compression shirt, flight suit pushed down to hang off his hips.

“We can stop.”

Just that, the gentleness that juxtaposes everything you’ve seen of him so far, is enough to cement your decision.

“No thanks.” And you dig right into the crook of his neck with your teeth. 

And suddenly, all bets are off, because the groan he chokes out is going to live in your head for the rest of your life.

The advantage of the helmet, you soon discover, is that he has no choice but to let you hear every little sound he makes. Every stuttered breath and groan of your name as you grab impatiently at him. You could drown in the sound. 

But he doesn’t let you, hands hot on your throat and sliding down, down, down, until they’re pawing at the waistband of your underwear and you find yourself wishing you’d worn something at least a little bit cuter. The sound he makes when you shift your thighs apart and make room for him to sit between them, as his fingers dip underneath the elastic to find you wetter than Trask, has you forgetting your comfort over aesthetic underwear worries as soon as they surface. 

“Oh, fuck.” His whisper is so low that his helmet doesn’t catch it, and the curse wafts up to your ears raw and unfiltered. It’s hard not to cum right there. 

Even harder when he just fucking dives in. 

You barely have a second to breathe before he’s playing you like a fucking fiddle. One arm braces across your middle in a vain attempt to keep you still as his other hand works miracles that threaten to blind you. His thumb circles your clit at the same time two fingers curl deliciously inside of you and as much as you want to watch him at work, your head throws back of its own accord and hits the wall with a solid thunk. 

Mando doesn’t even slow down when he asks if you’re alright, like he expects you to be able to form a whole sentence while he’s pulling you apart stitch by stitch with just his fingers. You manage a nod, a vaguely affirmative noise through the sinful symphony he pulls from you with every little movement. A particularly decisive curl of his fingers inside you has a streak of jealousy wondering who taught him to do this. Not that it matters, whoever they are, they’re not here. It’s just you, Mando, and your rapidly approaching orgasm. And he can feel it.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He pushes his arm down a little firmer across you, rubs your clit just a little bit harder. 

Embarrassingly, that’s all it takes. 

For all the moans and squeaks that filled the hold before, you’re completely silent now. You can’t even get a breath in as you squeeze so tight around his fingers that somewhere, in a far corner of your brain, you worry you’ll cut off his circulation.

It takes you a full minute for you to come back to your body, a full minute where Din just watches you in awe. Back arched, nails scratching at the crate beneath you, chest heaving, that smear of blood on your cheek. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He’s so caught up in you, he almost jumps when you say his name gently. No, Mando, not his name. Still, he can imagine how it would sound falling off your lips in the same soft tone. That he’ll store away in his mind for lonely nights in hyperspace.

The way you’re looking at him, all sweaty and breathless, like you could love him. He stores that memory away too. 

You sigh as Mando pulls his fingers out of you, trailing the edges of your underwear. You couldn’t stop the soft smile that breaks on your lips if you tried. 

“You okay?”

Oh, stars, could he be sweeter? It’s so at odds with the way you normally see him, so different to how the rest of the galaxy knows him. You tuck his soft little question away in the back of your mind, safe and sound. 

“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s honestly all you can manage, and the two of you sit in the silence of it a little while longer.

Mando’s still tracing the outline of your underwear with his fingers, now dried, when one of them catches in a little hole at the hem. To be fair, you hadn’t really expected this to happen when you put them on this morning. You watch him pull at it, think for a moment, and then slowly raise his head to find your eyes through his visor. He doesn’t break contact as he takes the old fabric between his fingers and rips.

It’s like you catch fire in that split second. 

You grab fistfuls of his shirt at the shoulders and tug him up off the ground.

“Fuck me.”

“Yes?” He has the decency to sound surprised, after something like that. And, fuck, you could kiss him. 

“Yes.”

He’s pulling you to the edge of the crate and shoving his flight suit down in the same breath. Grabbing a condom from the abandoned medkit, Mando leans over you until he’s all you can see, all you ever want to see, you don’t even get a good look before he’s slid it over his length and is pushing into you torturously slowly. Inch by inch as you claw at every part of him you can reach until he’s fully seated inside you. Only then do you allow yourself to breathe, it’s all him.

Mando grinds into you, slow and deep and deliberate, and you feel him everywhere. 

Din’s going to lose it, much much sooner than he’d like to, if you keep looking at him like that. But he’s determined to make you cum again before he does, he has to make you shine for him like that again. So he anchors himself, a hand on your hip, the other anchored on the crate behind you, and he doesn’t hold back. 

You feel like you’re falling and flying all at the same time, every push and pull and deep moan of his drags you further into the abyss. Into Mando. Every one of your muscles clenches as he moves, electricity shooting through your veins, and you wonder if he can feel it too. God, you’re fucking close. And he seems to know exactly what you need. 

He moves the hand on the crate between you, thumb locking onto your clit immediately, and the shudder that ripples through you is like no other. In half a second, you’re hurtling towards your orgasm with no sign of slowing down. And then you’re gone.

“There we go.”

The words rumble through his chest and you tense up so suddenly that you jerk forward, narrowly avoiding colliding with his helmet as he moves just in time for you to bury your face in his shoulder instead. Whimpering so pathetically, you know you’ll be embarrassed about it later, but right now you can’t bring yourself to care. Right now, you need him to cum. You need to feel him let go inside you.

“Please, please, please.” You’re babbling as he starts losing his rhythm, and you need him like oxygen. Your teeth find his collarbone under the shirt, you bite, and he follows you off the deep end. 

It’s unholy, how he throbs inside of you and his body curls around you, but you’d pray at this altar every day if it meant you got to see him like this. Every fucking day. You don’t want him to pull away, to pull back and realise what he’s done, realise there’s no going back for you. So you pack it up and store it away, that quiet voice that whispers you’ll never have him the way you want. You’re happy hanging in the quiet balance, you don’t want to hear it. 

Din pulls out, reluctantly as his spine starts to protest the awkward position, but doesn’t stray far. He settles back on the ground between your thighs, helmeted head leaning against your knee and just watches you. Oh, he could stay here. He could stay here for the rest of forever if you asked. He knows you won’t. 

“How’s that for pain relief?” 

You find his eyes through his visor, unexpectedly, and it catches him off guard. The way you have since he first met you.

“A good scientist always tests a theory multiple times.” You’re out of breath, but grinning like a loth-cat. You hardly notice your shoulder anymore.

“Gotta give me a few minutes, sweetheart.”

Your laugh bounces off the walls of the Razor Crest, and Din can’t help but think how much he likes the sound. 

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @darnitdraco @greeneyedblondie44 @captain-jebi @sarahjkl82-blog​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @thisshipwillsail316​ @amneris21​

[palbabor-writes]

Lá Bealtaine

Pairing: Choso x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, cunnilingus, SMUT, NSFW/18+only, loss of virginity - if you squint, using sex to mask feelings & trauma, mild JJK manga spoilers; but if you’ve seen the anime you’re pretty caught up on this stuff

Word Count: 4732

“Why do you let them––us, stay?”

You lift your head, blinking at his obsidian surveyance. “What am I supposed to do? Say no? Not like I put an advertisement on the door: seeking dangerous men and nefarious spirits, inquire within. I’m not wanting to die, you know? Besides, it’s not all bad.”

“Name one thing that’s not bad about this,” Choso demands, his tone clipped.

Why? Why does he care? You’re not someone he can save. There’s no room for you. You aren’t family.

“Only one thing? Well, that’s easy,” you continue, the steady lull of your voice jerking him out of his musings. “You.”

Notes: hehe, when i said i had Choso brain rot i was not joking. this dude has been on my mind for weeks, ya’ll. WEEKS. special thanks to @libiraki​ & @kugutsuu​ for beta editing! if you haven’t checked out their works please stop what you are doing & scuttle yourself over there bc you are missing out.

Lá Bealtaine [l̪ˠaː ˈbʲal̪ˠt̪ˠən��ə] 'the bright or yellow day of Beltane' - a time of fire and fertility.

It started with a touch. A simple interaction; but it sticks to the back of his mind and the heat of your hand lingers, a remembrance that he can’t shake.

He’d returned to the dingy bowels of the hideout, boots echoing over the well-worn floor as he made his way to his customary seat; unaware of the blood that oozed from the strip above his nose. Legs and arms are heavy as he slots himself into the chair, his eyes drooping closed as he leans his dark head against the cushions. 

Two weeks.

Choso’s younger brothers were killed two weeks ago. Leaving him alone; adrift in his loss, his failure as an elder brother. The remembrance of them stung in the morning and was an ache by afternoon, but in the night’s darkness it burned.

He will have his chance, he reminds himself, furrowing his brow; seeking the faint traces of the other six who need him to press on, and the hollow twinge of the two who need vengeance. The 31st is only fourteen days away; he can wait. He can–

The pressure of the sudden touch makes him jerk; coal-dark eyes snapping open, searching for the source. You’re standing above him, hand outstretched, the pad of your thumb delicately catching the long forgotten drip of blood against his cheek. 

“You shouldn’t touch that,” he says, voice gruff in the vacant emptiness of the space; but he doesn’t shift, meeting your frank gaze unblinkingly. 

“Oh?” you question, swiping the sullied digit across your pants, tacking the deep crimson into the material of your jeans.

“It’s poison,” Choso clarifies. The spot you’d stroked your thumb down is tingling. Exhaustion, he muses, itching his nails into the thick fabric of his loose pants. He’s imagining it; there’s no other explanation.

“You’re not going with the others?”

What? How can he? They’re dead. Ah, no. He’s not thinking clearly. You don’t mean his brothers; you mean Getō.

“No,” he quips, lifting the back of his hand to his cheek, wanting to quell that spreading warmth that you’ve left him with. 

“Then you don’t need this, right?” You gesture to the mess of game pieces and the forgotten board that is scattered across the low table in front of him. He shakes his head and you begin the steady process of tidying up, collecting the mismatched jumble into your arms, folding the rest into the tattered box before you step away. 

Choso closes his eyes again, steadying his breaths, finding the pulse of the blood that thrums within him. Nothing is out of place. So why does his cheek feel like it’s on fire? There’s no reason for it. Is he this starved for a connection that he’s latching onto the first interaction he receives? 

His onyx eyes follow you as you walk across the matted flooring. You own this space; have struck some kind of deal with Getō and the others, permitting them to come and go, quietly cleaning up their messes, and ducking out of sight when they gather within the confines of the darkness; talking through the plans, the ins and outs of the sealing and the massacre that they hope to spread throughout the underground station of the pre-ordained prefecture. 

In the grand scheme of things you’re nothing. Why waste energy focusing on you? It won’t matter in fourteen days.

The clink of the cup on the table rattles him out of his thoughts and Choso peers into the depths of your clear gaze once more. “What is it?” he queries, running a broad hand down his face, hoping the pull will make him forget the persistent warmth that’s radiating from the spot you’d touched. 

“You look tired. Drink that and get some rest.”

“Giving orders now?”

“Sure,” you grin, cocking your head at Choso’s curled lips and wrinkled nose. “That’s a good one. Like any of you would ever listen to me.”

What’s this called? Self deprecating humor? Well, whatever it is, Choso doesn’t enjoy the brittle tone your voice has drifted into. It doesn’t suit you and that low annoyance that’s been brewing under his skin is coming closer and closer to the surface. His fingers are on the cup before he can properly sort through his mismatched emotions, but he doesn’t miss the lift of your lips when he gulps the scalding tea down his throat. 

Why does he care? You don’t matter. You’re no one to him.

“Easy,” you tut, shaking your head at his sharp gaze. “You’ll burn yourself.”

So? He’d rather feel something burn than linger into the uneasy pull of an ache. 

Choso looks for you when he enters, shifting past the others. You’re tucked toward the back, brows creased and head down. It’s a smart move, but the frightened hunch you’ve adopted bothers him more than it used to.

“We have a few minutes,” Getō announces to the gathering, dark eyes bright as they fall on his impassive face. “And Mahito is always late.”

There’s an implication behind it, but Choso opts to ignore that uneasy instinct, already turning. He’s just going to ask you for tea; that’s all. When you spy him, you smile and that spot on his cheek flares, remembering the sweep of your thumb.

“Lucky you caught me,” you tell him, hands busy with the rattling cups. “I was about to go.”

He narrows his eyes, watching the curve of your neck, the stretch of your fingers, and the uneasy twitch of your shoulders. This sort of existence doesn’t suit you. You’re the antithesis of this; normal, kind, unabashedly human. So why do you… 

“Why do you let them––us, stay?”

You lift your head, blinking at his obsidian surveyance. “What am I supposed to do? Say no? Not like I put an advertisement on the door: seeking dangerous men and nefarious spirits, inquire within. I’m not wanting to die, you know? Besides, it’s not all bad.”

“Name one thing that’s not bad about this,” Choso demands, his tone clipped. 

Why? Why does he care? You’re not someone he can save. There’s no room for you. You aren’t family.

“Only one thing? Well, that’s easy,” you continue, the steady lull of your voice jerking him out of his musings. “You.”

Choso shakes his head, openly scowling at your answer. “Me?” he sputters, sucking his teeth and pressing his clenched fists into the long table that you stand behind. 

“Yeah,” you confirm, pouring the steaming water over the leaves, wafting the fragrant essence of the tea between his clenched jaw and your ducked head. 

“I don’t… that is...I...” Choso begins, but fumbles into silence when he catches sight of your eyes, half hidden behind the sweep of your lashes. It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. “You’re strange,” he finishes, huffing a belabored sigh between his pursed lips, but when you laugh he can’t help a faint smile. 

It will feel disloyal later, that burst of momentary happiness, but right now he doesn’t mind the distraction; cupping the yunomi between his palms, catching your fingers before they can pull away, enjoying the warmth you transude into his chilled hands. 

Nothing holds. Choso knows this better than most. All things, given time, change. It is an inevitability. Something he’s known intrinsically, and clung to, all those years; when the only constant was the beating of his brother’s hearts beside him. But change rarely announces itself, content in its own emergence; the omnipotence of its bite.

Something has shifted. 

“You didn’t go again?” You ask one night, sitting beside him, a cooling mug between your fingertips. 

“Didn’t see the need,” he tells you, an outstretched legs brushing against yours. 

“You’re different… you know that?” A smile hidden within your words. 

“So are you.” He likes that, he thinks. He likes it more than he should.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

You bite your lip and he watches the press of your teeth, hoping you’ll split the skin. 

“Come closer and I’ll tell you.” You bargain, coyly shaking your head.

“I’m close enough and I don’t like games,” he grumbles, hoping you won’t leave it at that, because while it’s true that he doesn’t like games, he’s enjoying this give and take. 

“Please?”

There’s something intoxicating about that gentle sound and he turns, wordlessly following your crooked finger. He towers over your seated form, but you don’t let that imbalance hang, hands tugging against the white of his shirt, urging him to kneel between your spread legs. When he settles, you curl your fingers against his jaw, smoothing that blistering heat over his icy skin until he’s pressing forward, resting his heavy forehead against yours. 

You’re so warm, he inwardly gasps, his breaths coming in pants. So warm he fears he might grow addicted to this heady intimacy. “What do you want?” Choso asks, the deep timbre of his voice quaking. 

“You.” It’s such a simple answer; how like you.

“I am here,” he replies, half drunk on the feel of your skin.

“Yes, but what if I told you I want more?”

That question casts him into the darkness. He’s unused to this; doesn’t know what to do, what to say; he’s been sealed for so long, too long, and he feels wobbly, lightheaded, but he tries to reach, his fingers grasping at the base of your neck, pulling you toward... toward…

The clatter of the front door startles you both, and he’s on his feet, eyes wild as they look down on your parted lips, and the furrowed confusion of your brow. Your hands are still upturned, waiting for his.

The others step into the space and when he blinks again you’re already gone; your chair vacant, the warmth you’d shared evaporating into the unfeeling cruelty of the chilled air. Shit, Choso curses, grinding his teeth.  

Something has shifted; it will be impossible to tear himself away from you now.

It’s only been a day, but he can’t stop staring at you. He doesn’t hide his blatant gaze, obsidian eyes tracking each step, hungrily snapping to yours each time you come near. You do nothing to lessen this itching want that’s raging within him, leaning close, pressing your hand against his shoulder as you gather the discarded cups that are scattered between them, asking him if there’s anything else he needs, your breath hot against his ear. 

He’s unsure if he likes this. 

But each time you shift away he wants to drag you back. 

When they leave, used to his excuses, and his protestations that as long as the mission doesn’t involve Itadori Yuji or Kugisaki Nobara he’s uninterested, he stands; head turning, searching for you. 

Ah. There you are. 

He’s against you in an instant, stiff hands cupping you, greedy to touch, to hold. You squirm, a laugh bubbling from your lips, swatting his wide palms from the tempting swell of your hips. “What’s gotten into you?” As if you don’t know.

“Tch,” he scolds, “you’ve been toying with me all evening. You said you wanted more yesterday, so show me.”

You breathe out a chuckle, bemused by his enthusiasm and take his hand in yours, leading him down a hallway. He’s never been back here, but he follows, trying to steady the thudding of his heart. Controlling his life’s blood is second nature to him, so why does this feel like it’s a losing battle? 

The room you open is dark, but he can make out the shape of a futon, stark against the mats, and his eyelids flutter, too overwhelmed by the realness of this befuddling situation to look. To distract himself, he pulls you against the slope of his chest, splaying his fingers against the sweep of your collarbone. You twist in his loose hold, folding your arms around his powerful neck.

“Do you still want this?”

Choso unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth, gulping down a wavering breath. “I already told you,” he begins, his voice gravel, “show me more. Show me what else you want to do with me.”

“Can I kiss you?” you inquire, dipping your head enticingly, catching his wandering attention, urging him nearer. He doesn’t answer, electing to tap his lips against yours, clumsily pressing until the tip of his nose digs into your cheek. It’s easy to feel your heartbeat like this, and he wraps his arms around your lower back, eliminating the meager distance that was trapped between your heaving chests. 

You let him steady himself, careful to keep your movements slow, but the squish of his face and the jerk of his hands tugs a bated humph of discomfort from you and he breaks away, elegant brows crumpled as he searches for the source of your discontent. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you amend, smiling at his obvious pout. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Hmm?” Choso questions, stroking a palm up your spine, a smirk quirking the corner of his mouth when you draw in a gasp. 

You cup your hands beside his ears, fingers sinking into the dark tangles of his hair as you lure him back to your parted lips. “Open your mouth.”

He does as he’s told and you mold him against you, lapping your tongue over his, earning a shuddering moan and a sharp caress as he coils his hand around your throat. It’s easier this way and Choso steadily follows your lead, mimicking your sucks and teasing bites. Teeth clash when he reaches for more but he eases the sting with a flick of his tongue, and you nibble his lower lip in retaliation, pleased he’s so malleable. 

Your fingers fall to the sash that rests above his stomach and he grunts when you pull at it, easing it away with a stable unwinding. His breaths are heavy against your kiss shined lips, but he keeps perfecting his new found techniques, sweeping chapped skin until it’s worn smooth by the wetness of your tongue. His own hands are preoccupied with your neck and the gentle underside of your jaw, fingertips pressing until you can sense the pound of your heart within his grasp. 

“What are you trying to do?” you ask between his frantic presses. “It’s like you wanna match my pulse, or something.” 

“Worry about yourself,” he grouses, ill-pleased with your answering laugh. “It’s going to take forever if you go that slow.”

You shove your palms against his chest and he stumbles backwards, his booted feet loud against the heavy mats, dark eyes flashing up at yours as his face falls into a deep-seated glower. “What?! What was... why did you…”

His angry retorts melt into nothingness when you fling your shirt over your head, sending the thin fabric fluttering to the ground. The sudden exposure leaves him gaping, unsure of himself once more, but you ease the shock, grasping his limp hand in yours, guiding it over the dip of your stomach, and up the flow of your side. 

“Let’s play fair, huh?” you tease, tapping a kiss to his cheek, careful to land it in the same spot your thumb had touched weeks ago. Choso nods, obsidian eyes wide as his fingers trace over your goose-prickled skin. “Alright, well, it’s your turn.” 

His gaze snaps back to yours, whisking over your face; as if he’s searching for some kind of answer in the lift of your nose, or the plushness of your lips. Whatever it is, he seems to have found it because he ducks his head to yours, resting his brow against the crown of your temple, hands lifting to his own clothing, making quick work of the intricate knots and folds of the fabric.

The gleam of his skin in the moonlight takes your breath away, and you reach for him as he eases the black off of the white, sliding your warmth over the coldness of his bared pectorals. He’s smooth; skin as soft as freshly cleaved talc, or a scattering of downy feathers, and you keep stroking until he’s shaking under your touch, his exhales unsteady against your face. 

“I think I have more blemishes on my fingers and arms than you do on your entire body. You’re so soft,” you tell him, tracing an outspread hand against his muscled abdomen. 

“I’m... this is a new manifestation,” he answers, hoping the strangeness of him, of his half human, half cursed being, won’t drive you away. 

“Hmm,” you nod, pulling him down for another kiss. “It feels nice.”

He’s slow to undress. Not because he doesn’t want to see more of you, he’s simply distracted, too focused on touching what bits of you are revealed; the arc of your hips, the tipped buds of your breasts, and the line of your legs. But you’re like water; slipping through the gaps of his fingers, leaving him wanting, unsatisfied with his fragile hold.

When the last scrap of clothing is off, he waits, his cheeks flushed and mouth dry. “Now what?”

“Do you want me to touch you first?” you ask, that tantalizing smile lifting your lips. 

“No,” he asserts, shaking his dark head. “I want to learn you before that...so show me.”

“You’re very unusual.” Tilting your head as you take his hand, leading him to your futon. “You know that?” you continue, tumbling him over you as you splay across the crisp sheets. 

“Says the woman who is letting me between her legs,” Choso smarts, finding your lips in the gathering darkness. “Stop stalling; show me.”

With a pleased sigh, you reach for his hand again, looping your fingers around his as you guide him to the juncture of your thighs. You work one away from the others, gliding it along the ridges of your folds, showing him how you like to be touched. After his initial gawping and mystified rumblings of, ‘so wet,’ and half croaked, ‘fucks,’ he shifts closer, easing onto his haunches as he curiously follows your lessons.

“There,” he hisses, onyx gaze catching your twitching stomach and jerking hips. “Teach me how to do that.”

You work him to that apex, using your other hand to lift the slippery hood of your clit, showing him how to press and tap against the spongy nub. He’s a quick learner, his eyes falling from yours to watch the flutter and quaver of your cunt. 

“Move your hand,” he tells you, resting his lips against the hollow of your neck, his tongue lapping over your pulse. When you untwine your fingers from his he waits, lips too busy sucking a bruise into your skin; reaching for that unsteady thump of your heart. 

Bump-bump-ba-bump.

Yes. This will do. He’s caught the rhythm; can almost sense the flow of your blood, and see the surge of your clit under his touch.   

The next frig of his digit has you gasping out his name, legs unfurling, knees shaking beside his ribs, your head flopping back onto the futon with a dull thump as you arch into his hold. Choso reapplies the pressure, adding the pad of his thumb, leaving it opposite his seeking forefinger, squeezing until you’re clawing your blunt nails down the sheets. 

“You look good like this,” he smirks, looming over your heaving figure, licking his wet tongue along the valley of your breasts. “What else can you show me?”

Your fingers’ grip into his hair and you yank him from you, one brow delicately arched as you take in his irascible scowl. “You could put your mouth to better use…”

There’s no need to elaborate, and he’s wedged between your thighs before you can fully blink, ravenous lips slurping kisses and bites into the tender skin; he’s asking another question, but you can’t hear when he’s touching you like that, his fingers doggedly pressing at your clit, jerking more moans from your throat. 

“Wh-what?” you ask, breath stolen before it’s past your quivering mouth.

“I said,” Choso pants, lifting his inky head and fixing you with a dazed stare. “I can feel your heartbeat.” 

“Does that matter?” you laugh, popping onto your elbows to regard him inquisitively. 

“It helps,” he answers cryptically and you jab your toes against his arm.

“Helps with what?”

“You’ll see. Do you care if I experiment?” He lifts his fingers from you, sucking the dripping pads into his mouth as he waits for your answer.

“Knock yourself out,” you gape, biting your lip between your teeth.

His dark eyes glaze before he averts them, an appreciative smile gentling his sharp features. “Good,” he replies, easing one bent leg over his broad shoulder, sparing you a last glance before sealing his lips to your throbbing folds.

It starts slowly; a deep shudder that seems to radiate from your core before pooling against your extremities, making your fingers twitch and your muscles spasm incrementally. But Choso is mindful of the power that he’s found, and he eases you onto his tongue, helping you to relax with steady sucks, avoiding that all important button that is distending above his nose. He can almost hear the rush of your blood, can sense where to press with each swell of your slick folds, and he follows unquestionably; pleased he can lose himself in this, in you.

He taps his thumb against your entrance, eyes opening, searching over the curve of your breasts to see you, to watch what kind of expression you’ll make when he finally breaches this boundary. The sheer heat of you takes him aback, and he groans, his low voice vibrating over your twitching cunt, and you reward his elation with another moan, his name falling from your lips. 

What is this? 

He’s drowning and all he’s done is taste you. Will he die if this goes further? Or will it burn? Lapping away the remnants of his regret until there’s nothing left of him but splintered bone. 

“Choso,” you breathe, fingers latching into his wayward hair. “More, please… it’s not enough.”

He rotates his thumb before easing it out, making room for the wide push of his index finger, tongue lifting to swirl around the pulsing nub of your clit, and teeth grazing until you’re squirming.

“There!” you cry out, bucking into his open mouth. “Oh, god… I... I can’t––”

Something inside you shudders. He can feel it in the comforting thump of your heart and it makes him clutch you to him, his own hips rutting against the edge of the futon as he finds himself awash in the sheer intoxication of you. 

Fuck. Is it supposed to feel like this? Like he’s half himself and half you? Or is he simply drunk on the rush of your blood?

Your cunt sucks his finger deeper, gummy walls pulsing in time with your heart as he gulps down your essence, tongue greedily catching it before it has time to drip onto his upturned wrist. It’s good. It tastes so fucking good. 

He’s so winded by the sensations that he barely notices you pulling from him, his dark head lolling over the crinkled sheets, an inaudible moan slipping between his clenched teeth. Choso doesn’t resist when you ease him upward, warm fingers tracing up his heaving body as you press him onto his back. Only when you press a kiss to his fevered temple does he find himself, eyes bleary in the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, straddling his hips, your hand reaching for his straining cock, palming some of the leaking pre-cum over your fingers as you stroke him. “I can’t wait… I want you… can I? Choso?” 

This part will burn, he thinks, helping you to hold yourself steady, eyes slipping closed when he feels the slick heat of you gliding teasingly over his tip. When you sink down, his back arches, and he hopes that the whispering shadows, the lingering remnants of his guilt, will be tossed onto this fire you’re stoking. Your hips still when they reach his base, legs twitching around him, your nails catching against his smooth skin, working nicks into the clean slate. 

You’re clutching onto him like he’s the only thing tethering you down, and he opens his shuttered eyes to watch, hoping he can glimpse you past the smoldering of his want. You’re beautiful, he thinks, hand lifting from your hips to fiddle with the necklace that sits around your neck, admiring the glint of metal in the gloom. 

He wishes he could see more, that he could wait a little longer, but he wants to put an end to this ache; he wants to burn.

The lift of your knees leaves both of you gasping, and Choso stifles a moan, legs tensing restlessly under the steady push and pull you’re establishing over him. It’s so warm inside you, and he can feel the thrum of your blood again, so he tries to match his to yours, controlling his pulse, right down to the multiplicity of his cells, eager to feel that potent tug of release once more. 

“Does it feel good?” you ask, leaning back so he can admire his engorged cock as it plunges in and out of your sodden pussy. 

“Do you have to ask?” he grunts, lifting a hand to your breast, tweaking the tender bud of your peaked nipple between the knuckles of his fingers. 

When you call out his name again, he snatches you to him, dragging you to his parted lips as he digs his heels into the futon, rutting into you until you’re squelching lewdly around his pistoning cock. The world feels like it’s narrowing; the shadows lessening as he engulfs himself in you, his teeth working bruises into your neck, your shoulder, the tops of your breasts, anywhere he can reach; but it’s not enough. 

With a huffed groan he’s gathering you into his arms, robust thighs helping him to flip you onto your back, hands splitting your legs as he drives himself back into your welcoming heat. It’s deeper in this position. He can feel more of your twitches and pulsations as he steadies his arms beside your ears, bracing himself over your prostrate form. 

“You want me to touch you again, don’t you?” he asks, voice broken. “Do you want me to touch your clit? Will that make you cum for me? Will it?”

“I-I can do it,” you gasp, easing your fingers between your grinding bodies, knees spreading so he can watch. “Tell me when,” you murmur, head dropping as you arch, slipping him further.

“Now,” he moans, grabbing your jaw, forcing your lips to his as he slams his cock into you, setting himself alight; easing the incessant tug of his guilt until it’s a blunted thrum resting close to his heart. 

When you shatter around him, he follows, wholly caught in the ebb and flow of his release; lost in the depths of this unsteady solution.

He stays with you through the night, eyes following the line of your body as you sleep. His hands are cold, he thinks, easing them beside you, but not for much longer. 

The 31st is only four days away.

“Did he question you? Ask you for anything?” Getō’s words are lanced with care, his voice honey sweet as he steeples his fingers, peering at you with an avariciousness that makes you shake.

“He didn’t. I doubt it will happen again. I didn’t...I don’t want to...to… hurt––”

“What? Hurt him? He’s a half-breed monster. His feelings don’t come into this. Nor should yours; you have a family to think of, a mother who’s an invalid, a younger brother who can’t be depended upon, a father who’s a drunkard; too far gone to notice, or care, his eldest is missing; hasn’t attended her college classes in weeks... and your sister. Well, she’s still a child... much too young to suffer from your mistakes, don’t you think?”

“You’re the monster,” you grit, hands folded into your lap, nails pressing until blood wells under your fingertips. 

“Perhaps,” he smiles. “We’ll be out of your way soon enough. Let me know if you show any signs of impregnation, would you? Any spawn you whelp will be useful; very useful indeed.”

notes: i was gonna name this something else, and i know the dates i am describing don’t match with the sabbat, but Beltane felt like a smoother fit. 

[sinner-as-saint]

Hi! So I saw that you write for Geralt, and I had this in mind: he gets called to a village where they say that there is something sinister lurking in the forest bc sometimes men and women who venture out come back deranged, like they want to go back into the forest no matter what, and they believe it's a monster, so Geralt goes to investigate and he stumbles across a cottage and when he enters he is surprised by how cozy it looks, but more specifically the reader who is (1/2)

(2/2) who is small and so innocent looking. So the reader is like, “I wondered why it took you so long to get here witcher’ and Geralt is like ”???“ bc how’s it possible that this innocent looking reader be the one who has caused all this mess right, so long story short the reader is like a succubus or some thing similar and like she seduced people and is dominant and shit, so she ties up Geralt and fucks his brains out, or maybe she teases him and doesn’t let him cum? Like there is many options

OKAY i love this 

Bottom!Geralt is so UGH!!! 

alright, so he is immediately mesmerized by you. Honestly, it only took a few seconds, or maybe less. But he surely was under your spell the moment he first saw you

this wasn’t what he expected, to be honest. When he received the message that a certain village needs his help, Geralt thought it might have been some horrible looking, Kikimora type of monster. 

he certainly didn’t expect a beautiful, beautiful young lady. Living all by herself in her cozy cottage in the middle of the woods; alone. How is she a threat? She doesn’t even look like a monster, Geralt thought, blinded by your beauty and charming smile. 

“I see you’re finally here, Witcher. What took you so long?” you asked, softly, innocently. For a moment there, Geralt felt like he could just melt upon hearing your smooth voice. So soft, and angelic. Yet it fueled the fire in his loins, he couldn’t help it.

“Who are you?” he asked, trying his hardest to get a grip on himself and focus on his job. But that was so hard to do, it was near impossible because there you were, standing just a couple feet away from him; wearing a gown with a dangerously low cleavage. And you weren’t even bothered with hiding your modesty; because he distracted him, you could easily see that. 

“I’m Y/N, and i assume the villagers sang my praises?” you teased, stepping closer to him. He wanted to take a step back, he so wanted to. But he couldn’t. Your scent, your hair, that look in your eyes, your smooth skin… it all pulled him in like a trance. 

Geralt scoffed quietly. “What you’re doing to these people, you need to stop it. Now. Or i will make you.” You got closer to him as he spoke, and touched his face gently. The fire inside him burned brighter. Hotter. He felt something grow inside him, a need. A desire perhaps. He tried to sound intimidating, but he failed. 

you chuckled. “Giving into your strongest, deepest desires is not a sin, Witcher. You know that, don’t you? Besides, what exactly it is that i’m doing?” You faked a pout and looked up at him, leaning closer to the tall man. 

“i don’t know.” he replied through gritted teeth, trying his best to control himself and trying his hardest not to lean into your touch. Your touch was warm, and cool at the same time. It calmed him down, but it also drove him crazy. 

“Well, you would like to find out, wouldn’t you?” the fire in him burnt brighter, and he could no longer hold back, he almost nodded at your question. You leaned in to kiss him, gently stroking his lips with yours and from then on, he was in a haze. As though drugged. 

next thing he knew was that he was following your orders like a lost puppy. Removing his heavy clothing upon your command, getting into your bed when your ordered, and surrendering. Completely. 

you had him bound and restrained. Hands tied to your bed post, above his head. And he lied there, without a single complain leaving his lips, his heartbeats racing, and his desire growing. 

“You know, when i heard the villagers were planning on calling for you to get rid of me, i thought you’d be a tough one to deal with.” you whispered in his ear, straddling him and kissing the side of his face gently. “But here you are, like a perfect little pet.” 

Geralt knew he should’ve tackled you to the ground and put an end to this, and save the village from your charms, because rumor was that once people met you; they were spell-bound. And they’d be ready to lay down their lives if you simply asked. Slowly, but surely, you could take over an entire village, and make people become your own personal little slaves in a matter of days. 

but Geralt was being treated like a toy in your hands, and he didn’t want it to stop. 

“Fuck…” he cussed in a quiet whimper as you slowly kissed your way down his body; down his neck, across his bare chest and all the way to his thick, erected cock. Without any warning, you took him into your mouth, all of him. And he moaned out loud, mindlessly. 

You took his cock deep into your mouth, then took it out and stroked it; watching him grunt and struggle against the ropes you tied him with. He would have easily freed himself if it wasn’t for your seductive magic. “Not so strong now, are we, Witcher?” you taunted and took him into your mouth again. 

Geralt nearly whined when you did so, he was getting desperate and your ability of bringing him right to the edge and mercilessly keeping him there for as long as you wished to was driving him insane. He knew this was wrong, and that he was falling right into your trap, but it felt so good. 

maybe he loses all self control the moment you sink down on him, your wet warmth wrapping all around him; making him cuss and groan. You lean in and caress his face, looking him deep in his golden eyes while you rocked your hips against his. “That feel good, hmm?” 

he’d nod, way too quickly. He was quite a sight; all big, and strong, and handsome but tied to your bed at your mercy. You chuckled and leaned in to bite his lip, tugging on it as you pulled away - surely making him lose his mind. 

you’d move against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and making him get louder and louder each time. Maybe just when you’d feel him twitch inside you, you’d pull him out of you and watch him whine and smirk at his helplessness. 

“Getting greedy, are we?” you’d tease and smirk at how frustrated he was getting; grunting and moaning for you. 

at some point, he’d be nothing but a sweaty, moaning mess under you; messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock. But you wanted more, you wanted to hear him whine some more, you wanted to hear how desperate he could get. You needed to know that you had complete and utter control over the big, bad Witcher. 

maybe you’d tug on his hair, or maybe pull him closer by gripping his locket. “You’re gonna have to work for this, come on. Beg.” you’d whisper softly, lips hovering above his parted ones. Maybe you’d even kiss his open mouth carelessly. But he was ready to do anything for you. Absolutely anything. 

he couldn’t believe that someone so innocent looking, having such a spotless and angelic aura could make him beg in bed. But here you were, dominating him; making him whine and whimper for a brief touch from you. And oh did he beg. And whimpered, and whined. 

“Y/n… please.” perhaps his voice was low, barely even a whisper. But you heard it. His desperation was quite clear. 

and he was so sensitive, from all that teasing, that once you started riding him again; he would thrust his hips up trying to match your movements. But you’d mess with him even then, you’d slow down your pace whenever he got too excited, and you’d speed up when he least expected it. 

he’d get loud, very loud; growling each time you messed with him, and whining your name whenever you teased him for too long. You’d alternate between having him in your mouth and riding his cock, and there was nothing else he could focus on in that moment. 

at some point, you’d eventually give in; seeing he was physically worn out. And you’d fuck his brains out, making him cum in no time. Your walls clenching around him, gripping him and milking him perfectly. He was completely at your mercy, begging you to slow down when you kept riding his sensitive, throbbing cock even after he came. 

he’s breathing hard and fast after you’re done with him, trying his hardest to calm his racing heart while you still have him securely under your spell. You kiss his chest, murmuring how good he was and how much of perfect “play thing” he was. 

“Now, you’re gonna go out there, and tell them that i’m no threat. Because i’m not, am i?” you’d grip his jaw gently, and look deep into his eyes while you spoke. His hands were still tied, and sore and they were itching to just reach out and touch you. 

you’d kiss his parted lips while he nodded frantically. “No, you’re not.” And just like that, you had the Witcher under your charm as well. 

And he did go out there, and managed to make up some lie about you being nothing but an innocent girl living on her own. He convinced them that it was some other source of magic which was taking control over their people. And they were stupid enough to believe him. 

And so, you became his little secret. And kept working your magic on people doing what you did best. 

—

Geralt Of Rivia Tag List:

@wickedrum

@xo-dragonette-xo

@coldbreadbouquetworld

@xheartpainx

@kelly-fasel

@i-ve-become-fictional

@voidstiles3

@reebgirl13

@alyxkbrl

@crowleyhasanicebutt

@ackeviddlestan

@whatcouldgowrong-ohthat

@soulslaststand

@prettymuch-love121

@fafulous

@aar-journey

@jessevans

@godsaverosemary

@fcgrizi

@secretlyactivated

@nightstar27

@offensivness

@mightyhemsworthy

@teagarages

@deadscarlight

@bitcheswithbrokenhearts

@amofbebbanburg

@marymegger

@amofbebbanburg

@swagfancroissantpizza

@viper-queen

@angelsleague-67

@wolfiepirate

@yelenas-lova

@ladylizzieofdarbyshire

@god-of-dramatic-death-scenes

@anncutamarica

@ayamenimthiriel

@honeyydippaa

@lonewolf471

@queenie-b-

@kingniazx

@callmemythicalminx

@headinthe-fridge

@anncutamarica

@ayamenimthiriel

@lonewolf471

@blackravena

@fangirl199812

@itsbqueenthings

@harrysthiccthighss

@tenebrousimagines

@s-u-t

@pandabearisaunicorn

@kakashi-koi

@misshley

@sweetness47

@queenmj10

@frizzyizzy12

@kenobibensolo

@atlanticowe

@kaetastic

@bruxinhadepessego

@lilgrinchbitch

@siriusjohnpotter

@punxgal

@this-is-whump-dammit

@jade10077

@shadesofarrogance

@jade10077

@unicornsxfandoms

@sciapod 

@valkyriepuff

@rhyrhy462 @moonlightreetops @omgkatinka @childishhoe @alwayshave-faith @belalugosisdead @voraciousslut @zombiepandajfish @duchess-of-lara @kemurai6-dominion-of-dust @agniavateira @inmycavill

[blueluneacy]

Tears of the Abandoned

I made a kars/reader. Bc I could. Fucking enjoy

Warnings: kars wins Au, yandere, major character death, literal genocide, just general nastiness, blood, biting

You had been in the mountains for days. You were starting to wonder if all of this talk or a temple out here was a myth. Maybe it was all just supposed to be a legend for people like you to get lost in the mountains, unable to find any piece of hope. But you had to try, you had to. There was nothing else you could do.

You knew that there would be no one left there, Straizo had made sure of that, the sick bastard. But you hoped, prayed even, that there was some texts remaining there, anything to try and get information on how to defeat the menace that had come over your world. Joseph never returned after Kars became the Ultimate Being. You could only assume the worst for him, for your friends. When you thought about it, you tried to hold back your tears, holding onto what your teacher, Lisa Lisa had told you, how for generations Hamon was taught out here, that there might be some sort of hope to kill what was essentially unkillable, and now taking over the earth. It was hard to run from someone so powerful, but your head start was certainly helpful. You silently thanked Joseph for keeping Kars busy for so long that you were able to get out of there, to start your journey across the world. You had no doubt that Kars was after you, hoping to snuff you out like he had done to the rest of your friends. The last Hamon user, and it was someone as pitiful as you. That had to be the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard.

But still, you had something on your side, and that was your own stubbornness. If you gave up, the world didn’t have any more hope. You loathed to think about what was happening to humanity now that it was in the care of that monster, about what this world would become if you didn’t figure out a way to stop him, and quick. So, you kept walking, kept following the river in hopes of finding it. Trying to keep your mind off the guilt you felt, the responsibility in your mind you knew you didn’t bear but your heart sang was yours. You tried not to think about Kars, about how his eyes always pierced into his soul, how when he first saw you with Caesar and JoJo, he merely licked his lips as if looking at the most delightful snack. How when the two of you fought, his words were confident, teasing as he always easily defeated you. Even with whatever you could scrap together from the temple, would it be enough? You couldn’t even go toe to toe with the Pillarman before. Now look at you. Alone in the wilderness, hungry and tired. It was hard not to think about it all. About the hopelessness that threatened to creep into your heart, to give up and let yourself give into whatever this new world order was going to be.

But all those thoughts were set aside as you saw a building in the distance, your voice catching in your thought. Finally, finally after all this time, days of being on edge, wondering if even sleeping was safe for fear that you would wake up with teeth ripping out your throat, you were here. You practically bolted over to the temple, uncaring of the footprints you had been so careful to hide before. You smiled as you saw the stone, the wonderful sight leaving unwarranted joy to sprout up in your chest. It had to be here, it had to be! As you got to the doorway, seeing how plants had weaved their way into the stone, a pang in realizing the signs of disuse. You kept moving, setting your things down as you took a moment to take a deep breath. On one hand, it sounded wonderful to rest for a moment, to look for food and get to recovering from your journey. On the other, you were running on stolen time as it is. No doubt was Kars looking for you, and finding this place would just be the cherry on top to him. You needed to find what you needed and get out of here, for the sake of the world. It dimly occurred to you that since you were the only one left, technically it would be your responsibility to train the next generation of Hamon users. Man, either way, the world really was fucked.

You treaded lightly, as to not disturb the dust too much, looking through the building. Your hope started to drain as you barely found anything, just the remnants of people who used to live here. Plates, old clothes, but not one scrap of paper. It was like someone had specifically tried to get rid of… Oh no. The realization dawned on you as you began to tear through the temple, hoping to find something, anything, that when Straizo destroyed most of the Hamon users, he didn’t destroy their knowledge with them. You found a doorway that seemed to be locked, leaving you to almost cry out in frustration, banging on the door until finally you gave in and gave it a sharp Hamon kick to knock the damn thing down. When you saw what was inside though, you wanted to wail.

Ash. The room was covered in ash, scraps of paper that were once part of books now nothing but tinder. Everything, it was all gone. The knowledge of generations, destroyed and lost forever. Ancient techniques with any hope of you finding a way to defeat the Ultimate Being now destroyed, you couldn’t help but fall to your knees…. And just sob. All this, all the sacrifices made. The way Caesar gave his life on his battle with Whamuu, the way Joseph and Lisa Lisa distracted Kars for you to get away in hopes that you would find something, anything, to save everyone… It was all gone. It was all for nothing. You cried, cried for everything that was gone, all because of him. All because of everyone, this toppling domino effect that you had the misfortune of being at the end of. The world really was cruel.

“I see that it’s gone. What a shame.” You tensed up as you heard the voice behind you, low and obviously satisfied as his piercing eyes tore through you, eating up your despair. You just swallowed, trying to pull yourself together. You knew that you were going to die, but you at least wanted there to be some sort of dignity in it. You would die like a warrior, not sniveling over what was lost.

“You’re faster than I thought. But would it kill you to knock before just barging in? I could’ve gotten ready and made us some tea.” You turned to face your enemy, this monster that threatened to ruin everything, who already had, in a way. You tried to ignore the puffiness of your eyes, already getting yourself ready for a fight. You knew you would lose, but it didn’t matter. At least, you might be able to see your friends soon.

“You’re already itching to fight? You should already know that it’s useless.” Kars told you, stepping forward into range of you. You growled, easily swinging your leg to hit him in the side with a sharp Hamon kick. Kars paused for a moment, simply grabbing your leg and gripping it tight, pulling your forward. You gasped and lost your balance, falling to the ground. You let out a yelp as your head hit the ground, your vision going just a little hazy as Kars took advantage of the moment, descending upon you and easily taking your wrists into one hand, pinning them above your head. It was like Kars just absorbed the blow, not even flinching at what you did. You tried to swallow back your fear, putting on a brave face.

“You’re stubborn, just like the rest. How poetic, the last Hamon user in the temple I once attempted to destroy thousands of years ago. There’s nothing left, nowhere left for you to run…” Kars purred into your ear, leaving you to gulp as his satisfaction from the ordeal didn’t feel simply like the satisfaction of defeating an enemy. Still, you let yourself grit your teeth, squirming and growling back at the terrible thing.

“I won’t be the last Hamon user. I know someone out there, somehow, will know how to defeat you. They will avenge me. They’ll avenge all of us, and most importantly, destroy you.” You replied, vitriol spilling out into your words. Kars just stopped, thinking about your words, before laughing heartily at your declaration.

“Oh, you poor poor thing. You’ve been in the mountains so long that you haven’t seen the state of the world out there. How pathetic.” Kars chuckled, leaving you to swallow as your eyes went wide, trying to convince yourself that it was a lie, that he wanted you to wonder what he meant, wanted to snuff out the hope in your heart before he finally ended your life. He was toying with his prey, and yet you couldn’t help but still ask.

“What the hell are you talking about? What did you do?!” You tried to sound fierce, angry, but in the end all you sounded was desperate.

“Well, I didn’t do anything. It just became terribly difficult to control my army once victory was secured. You know how they are, wanting to bask in their victory. There are a few small pockets of humans left, of course, but… Well, they’ve fallen in line quite nicely.” Kars’ voice was sickeningly pleased, leaving you just to swallow. God, did they really… Oh god, in just that short of a time? You weren’t sure you could take on Kars, much less an army. God, oh god, oh god, there really was no hope left. Not for you, or for anyone else.

“I… I hate you. You sicken me. I’ll see you in hell one day, Kars, mark my words.” You growled, before resigning yourself to death, awaiting Kars’ witty comeback before he slit your throat. You tried not to tense up when his sharp teeth got close to your neck, but… His teeth never tore open your neck like you thought they would.

“Oh, my dear, I think there might be a misunderstanding. You aren’t going to die, not today.” He growled, before giving into temptation and letting his teeth sink into your neck, easily drinking from you as you cried out and squirmed, trying to break free from his grasp. Oh god, was he planning to turn you into a zombie? What irony would it be if you became a mindless puppet, unable to resist his commands for all eternity? You growled, looking for some way out of this mess, before realizing where exactly your leg was situated. Kars had slotted your legs between his own to try and hold you still, but as he lost himself in the taste of your blood, his hold on them loosened, giving you a severe edge. If this didn’t work, well, that was gonna suck, but if it did… Well, no one can say you never went down without a fight. It was now or never, Kars was relaxed as his tongue began to run over the wound on your neck, lapping up the excess blood he had missed. You swallowed, reared your leg back as best you could, and straight up kicked Kars in the dick.

He hissed out in pain, his grip loosening as he curled over, and it was enough for you to quickly wriggle free, quickly running out of the room. You heard Kars roar your name, and you knew that he wasn’t that far behind you. But, you had the advantage of being smaller, more nimble, and in a facility built by and for Hamon users. You had no doubt there would be some sort of hidden door in here, or something only unlocked by Hamon, something you knew that Kars wouldn’t be able to get through. Kars would be lumbering after you, much larger than you and having trouble getting through doorways. You kept on moving, gasping as you heard Kars’ heavy footsteps behind you, running down a flight of stairs. I mean, you couldn’t just go out into the wilderness, Kars would oh so easily be able to just fly over and pluck you up. But you knew that he would stay here until he found you, unless he thought you had somehow escaped. But for now, you just had to figure out a way to beat him, to at least be free of him for a moment, so you could collect all the information you had obtained in your brain and try to come up with a game plan. You just gulped, panicking as you heard Kars coming closer, far too close to be comfortable, before just… Going behind a cabinet. Was it the best hiding place? No. Was it the only option right now? Yeah.

You heard Kars pause when he reached the bottom of the staircase, looking around and actually… Humming, as if amused by all this.

“It was impressive that you were able to get past me like this, but this hiding place is just poor. Did you really never train here? No wonder your Hamon is so lacking. You were never meant to be a master, dear.” Kars’ voice was so matter of fact, leaving you to just grit your teeth. He was weaseling his way into one of your biggest insecurities, about how you were the weakest of your group, and you hated him for it.

“Always so determined and stubborn, but not even your teacher could defeat me. You have never been able to even land a solid blow on me before, though your attempts were always cute. But that’s over now. I’m willing to make you a deal, to give up a lot more in comparison than what you have to give.” He spoke smoothly, carefully. You could tell he was trying to keep his ears perked up, to listen closely in case you gasped or moved. But you kept still, kept listening, hoping that something, anything would happen for you to gain some sort of advantage.

“There’s a reason why you aren’t already dead where you stand, sweetling. You’re meant to be mine, to be by my side. I know deep down, you know that too. Everything that has happened has led up to this point. To when you finally give in to me.” You felt Kars lean against the cabinet you were behind, beginning to slowly crush you, and you just tried to keep your cool, to stop yourself from gasping out in pain. When it finally seemed like too much, that maybe you were finally going to die or at least cry out from it all, Kars cursed to himself.

“A window? How could I have not spotted that? Damn brat…” You heard him grumble and pull off the cabinet, walking over to the other side of the room. There was some rustling, before you heard him just grumble again and pull himself up, before the sound of feet in the snow seemed to make you calm down. You let out a small sigh, waiting just a few more minutes before you stepped out from behind the cabinet, looking around to make sure this wasn’t a trap. You began to walk up the stairs carefully, becoming more and more confident as you moved through the temple. When you finally walked past the library the two of you started at, you felt just a little confident as you began to walk to the entrance to grab your things and get out of here. You grinned as you got to your bag, pulling it over your shoulder and beginning to step out the door, only for a hand to grab the back of your neck and pull you back inside. If this were a cartoon, you’d probably make a squeaky toy sound.

“Did you really think your little game of hide and seek was going to keep you away from me?” Kars growled, his claws digging into you as he pulled your body against his, your back against his chest, his mouth against your ear as he tried to hold back his anger. “I have you in my grasp now, so I suggest you stop struggling.”

“No! Never, I’m never going to stop fighting you! You can’t just take me for some sick victory fantasy you have, I’d rather die!” You yelled, leaving Kars just to scoff as he held onto you tighter, lifting you up as you kicked and squirmed.

“Oh, you will. You don’t have any other choice unless you don’t care about those humans you love so much.” He practically spat into your ear, leaving you to freeze up in Kars’ arm, giving him ample time to adjust and pull you into a princess carry.

“Oh, I have your attention now, do I? How infuriating.” Kars dug his nails, more like claws with how sharp they were, into your side. “But still. You will do as I say, or else I will slaughter every single one of the remaining people on this earth, do you understand?” When he spoke, you couldn’t help but squirm again. This was probably selfish of you at this point, but he couldn’t be serious. Could he?

“L-Let me go, please! Don’t do this!” You cried, at the point of begging. You weren’t begging for your life, you would much rather die than be in the hands of Kars. But perhaps he knew that, and used the fact to torture you.

“Oh darling, I wish I didn’t have to work in ultimatums like this, but you’ve given me no choice. If you try to run away, I promise you. I will destroy every last one of them, and I will find you again and let you know exactly what you caused.” He told you, leaving you just to swallow. You knew that the look in his eyes was serious, deathly so. You began to relax, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked away. You bit them back, not wanting to give Kars the pleasure of seeing them, of how hopeless this world has become. Kars just smiled, pulling you closer as he began to walk off to who knows where, taking you to some corner of the Earth you would never be able to escape from, both from your own guilt and the looming threat over your head.

“Oh pet. You’ll learn to adore me the same way I adore you.” Kars told you, his voice softer, more gentle as he pet your hair. Without any other choice, you simply wrapped your arms around the man, watching as the temple slowly disappeared out of existence. “I’ll have them destroy that tomorrow evening. Now then…” Kars leaned in, letting his nose just graze against yours.

“Kiss me.” He was demanding, and you knew that there was no way you could resist. So you leaned in, letting your lips press against his, gasping as he nipped at your lip, only for him to take advantage and shove his tongue into your mouth. You whimpered and just let Kars do what he pleased, gasping when he finally pulled away. You could see the smug smirk on his face, so pleased in seeing you falling so far. You just buried your face into Kars’ chest, doing something, anything to hide from his prying eyes.

You wondered if he felt the tears that were falling from your eyes.

[s11e17]

wehhh so i'm working on this big spn wip and as some of you may know i abandoned a big one a few years ago (i am working on it again hopefully to finish it finally bc of everyone's nice comments but i don't want to give anybody false hope!!) so these days i only post once i've got the whole thing down. BUT i have no motivation to finish this other one so i'm just going to post this excerpt here for Validation™ lol read on if you want to see sam angst

Sam decides to take a desert route back, hopes for the bitter and blistering heat to burn out the persevering cold in his bones. On a sharp right just before Twin Falls, Sam veers southward towards the Nevada border. He keeps driving down, crosses 80 and waits for a good place to turn eastward.

From up where the eagles can see, Nevada is pockmarked with greenish fissures made of brown-green mountains and wet farmland, like mold biting through a loaf of bread. Sam’s nearly fifty year old Torino rattles down along wire-thin highways with presidential names underwritten by numbers. He wonders if the concession to American tradition came before or after the numerical classification, if Eisenhower’s real name is Route 80 or if it’s the other way around.

At the intersection of 80 and 93, where Eisenhower meets Lincoln, the Nevada State Department of Transportation makes itself known with a building and a tree the size of an anthill compared to the vastness of the desert. To the north, a farm’s sweeping green circles like radar scanners interrupt the sandy white ridges overlooking Nevada’s moldy fissures. Military outposts, all of it, strategic camps set up to surveil the unclaimable desert.

The DIY Enochian anti-possession sigil he inked in just above his hip itches. Sam shifts in his seat.

The sky darkens — or it’s been darkening, already, and Sam’s only just noticing — and Sam glances at his rearview. Dark storm clouds gather behind him, covering up the sun. The thing about flat land like this, open country, is that you can see the storm coming miles away. A column of clouds hails down twenty miles behind him. The lightning makes him flinch, and he looks back to the road, clear ahead of him.

And then, too soon, the storm comes over him. He shouldn’t be out here in this weather — good God, he shouldn’t be in anything metal in this weather, that’s for damn sure. Lightning comes down half a mile ahead of him and Sam pulls over, gets a tarp out of the trunk and huddles down ten yards away, waiting for the sky to strike him.

Rain clatters over him, loud, ungenerous. The thunder’s so goddamn loud he feels it in his bones. He peeks out of his plastic home to look at the sky.

It’s pink behind the clouds, the hidden sun, maybe. The stormclouds tower like gods, greater statues than Sam’s ever seen, than any place he’s ever been. Everything is red. That’s the trick of it, of the desert — there’s nowhere to hide on the bare and raw earth.

Rainwater rushes past his feet. The stream picks up, turns into a brook — and then into a river, barreling under that Torino, cutting a new road. Sam hides from it all, hunched under his tarp.

It's warm, but Sam's cold. That's the worst of it: that the water is warm, or rather that the water is cold on a hot day which is supposed to even out, but he's still freezing. Sam has been cold for so long he isn't even human anymore, a cold-blooded creature so low-down even the dogs won't fight him, 'cause there's nothing left to fight. Not much for anyone to chew off these bones. The water makes him ice. The water cracks down sharp on the plastic, an inch away from his eardrums, the water pours heaven down and makes him shiver, and the water doesn't make him clean.

Sam closes his eyes. It's so loud. Thunder roars and he flinches at the sound of it, the feel of it, opens his eyes and looks at his feet and sees red mudwater sluicing by and thinks, that's my blood. My blood is running across my body which is the sand. Sam's blood pools around his car's tires. His car is waiting to be struck by lightning.

He shivers under his plastic and the rain keeps coming, endlessly. An inevitable brute. The rain is his father. Lightning, and then one-two-three seconds later, thunder. "Fuck off," Sam whispers, teeth chattering together, and his face is wet even though he hasn't moved out from under his cover. What he can see of the sky is more purple than pink. "Fuck you," he says, louder, trying to speak the warmth back into himself, the heat, the fire. Dean's fire. The fire Dean has in him that makes him throw furniture when he's mad, that makes him punch walls and break bottles. The fire Dad stoked in Sam's older brother without an exit sign, the fire Sam used to have. Sam wants that fire back. Can't he have it? Dean doesn't need it, Dean doesn't want it— it's Sam, Sam's the one who needs something, anything in him that's his and his alone, see, he'll even take a hand-me-down.

The clouds die off and the rain stops. The sun comes back. Sam's blood shudders next to his car. Sam carries the tarp on the crown of his head like a businessman holding a newspaper over his head in Manhattan rain. He shakes it off and puts it in the trunk. The car wasn't even struck by lightning. He didn't need to wait outside.

Once he's inside the car, looking out of the windshield at the endless, inevitable, unclaimable desert, it hits him.

Sam is, suddenly, for the first time in many, many years, very angry.

He looks at his hands which are shaking with the residual cold despite the car's heat and he— he storms out of the car and leaves the driver side door open and he kneels down and he grabs handfuls of mud, presses the mud between his fingertips. His whole body is shaking. He's so angry. He's so angry. He didn't deserve that thunderstorm. He didn't deserve— it itches, the Enochian on him, the brand he took as the lesser curse— the sand is gritty in his palm, he's never felt the earth like this— there's no mud in the cage— he's nothing, he's nothing, he's a dog, he's less than a dog, but he's human, isn't he? Isn't he?

"Fuck!" Sam yells at his hands, his voice cracking with disuse. He hasn't yelled in years. He can't even remember it. What does Sam Winchester have to yell about? "Fuck!"

He looks up, straight ahead at the length of mud that stretches in front of him like an ocean. He looks at that horizon.

Sam opens his mouth, and he screams.