#bj had such a journey

[captainhunnicutt]

[ofyorkshire]

BJ might continue to do sex work once he's free, but I'm making it canon that once he's more stable and has a little more footing, he starts taking dance lessons or joins a dance club. I don't think? he'd want to do that professionally by any stretch bc that would take some of the joy out of it, but I love thinking about how dancing with other people, maybe even chill "competitions" within that club or improving with a dance partner could very much be one of the big things that helps keep him focused and grounded.

He'd get to socialize more outside of work, do something active and fun, learn body confidence, etc. etc.

Painting would still be something he has to do as an outlet for emotions, but dancing would be something he'd really get into when he feels restless. I think he could find community there, and, like, Melanie is great, he loves her, but he needs more than one person.

[bitchlessdino]

scream : the death of a nympho (m)

Pairing: ghostface!seungcheol x ghostface!wonwoo x afab!reader

Genre: horror, scream au, smut

Word count: 6.8k

rating: rated R for ROUGH FUCKING SEX (probably the meanest i've ever written anyone)

tags: THIS IS COMICAL BUT VERY DARK FIC, PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. CONTENT MAY NOT SUIT MOST READERS. Morally black woncheol with no redemption arc, VIOLENCE IMAGERY (stabbing, physical fights), mentions of knives, Mentions of blood, Mentions of alcohol, humiliation, degradation kink, name calling sexually and none sexually (bitch, slut, cum bottle, ECT), manhandling, slapping kink, deep throating, face fucking, double bjs, cum swallowing, unprotected sex

Summary: This worn-out little town has seen its fair share of bloodshed, but now there are two new Ghostfaces in town—and their eyes are set on you. Someone who craves intimacy just as much as they enjoy sinking their daggers into something.

author note: thank you @highvern for being a great betaread, they got some giggles in so i hope you guys get to as well! This idea was initially requested and offered by @smileysuh and I hope you enjoy the journey babes!!!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys

The town has witnessed its fair share of bloodshed, with pages upon pages of stories about murders staining its history since its settlement. Transplants from the past couple of decades knew of the Ghostface murders, had experienced their horrors, and were relieved to finally learn the identities of what they believed to be the only culprits, known by the nicknames BL and SM. What they didn’t seem to grasp was that there was a lineage—a deep-rooted legacy that would take the eradication of many Ghostfaces to completely sever.

One that has yet to happen. But now there was another problem.

With nothing left but their dread, the townies embraced twisted ways of coping. They chased oblivion in reckless sex and drugs, feeding a festering culture of heightening promiscuity and sexual deviants to businesses catering to their darkest urges. But this decay only primed the ground for blood, making it easier to spill.

The Ghostfaces, known privately among themselves as the Spirituals, saw it as their duty to cleanse the town. In their eyes, there was no room for the filth that seemed to taint their almost perfect town, and so they took matters into their own hands, delivering judgment on their own terms.

Seungcheol took after his father, who was currently detained after being caught serving judgment to the town’s notorious transplant mayor, infamous for his monthly group-sex gatherings. Now, as the head of the Spirituals, Seungcheol was determined to continue following his father’s creed, not once forgetting the scripture carved into him as a child.

Whereas Wonwoo took after his mother, a caretaker of many children within their society's education system who had fallen in sacrifice for the greater good. Now the right-hand man to the leader of the Spirituals, once a soldier and now captain to many of its followers, he knew nothing but how to uphold and worship the Spirituals' beliefs.

They were a duo not to be reckoned with—the youngest in history to hold the highest possible ranks, and the most effective at slaying the vermin of the town. Unmatched to even their predecessors. If they wanted something to happen, they knew just how to do it.

Their targets had a history of overlooking them, their spry bodies and youthful faces seeming harmless to anyone they encountered—until their daggers found the light under a bright moon. They killed victim after victim, and were careful to not have a single clue that could be traced back to them or the society. It was the perfect ruse, ideal for victims like you.

Fresh-faced and eager to start your next chapter, you arrived in town for college and had stayed ever since. You’d dated here and there, with more than the occasional fling—so the thought of the murders never really intimidated you. As an aspiring journalist, you found the town’s dark history more fascinating than frightening. To you, it was just material for dark bedtime stories. Yet, while many who had survived the horrors saw them as more than history or folklore, those who had evaded them were a lot like you—they saw nothing to panic over, just a few rotten apples already put behind bars.

But you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been tempted to test some of the theories. Almost eager, you found yourself wanting to investigate the current-day Ghostface rumors, wondering if they might be linked to the recent disappearances.

You pondered even now, nursing your third glass of red wine, the deep red hue swirling in the glass, mesmerizing under the effects of a light buzz that calmed your body. You and the bartenders of the high end Diamond Club, Hansol and Chan, had gotten acquainted in your time here—perhaps more than necessary—so they had a good idea of your usuals, whether it was your drink of choice or preferred form of entertainment.

“Red wine tonight, I see,” Chan flirtatiously engaged, wiping down whiskey glasses.

“Tonight called for something sweet, a little treat for working so damn hard,” You replied, finishing the last bit in your glass. “Where’d Hansol go? He had just serviced me.”

“Just getting something from the back, probably more of your wine.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, setting the wine glass down politely in front of him. “You both do know me so well. I don’t suppose there’s room for me to check back there too.”

“No can do today, beautiful,” Hansol said, emerging from the backroom as he rolled up his sleeves. “We’ve got a big meeting tomorrow morning, so we need to be on our A-game.” He threw an arm around Chan, signaling caution to his coworker, then regretfully scanned your attire.

Hansol’s gaze traced over the perfect lines and curves of your dress as he tightened his grip on Chan’s shoulder, both of them watching as you patted your lips against your napkin, leaving a kiss stain in mauve-red lipstick. He knew soon enough he’d regret his responsible decision-making. “But we’ll be sure we’ll leave a slot available for you after.”

Hansol turned toward Chan, looking for reassurance as the other man held the middle seam of his pants. “Right, Chan?”

“R-right,” the other bartender responded with a tinge of disappointment.

You softly pouted. “Okay. Another time. I’ll let you guys get back to work.”

The prospects tonight were slim, but not impossible. There were group gatherings and couples, but no one alone like you—that made it more challenging, and you loved a good challenge. You turned away from the bar on your stool, twirling your freshly topped-off glass from a new bottle, and scanned the room for another late-night treat.

In the corner, you spotted a diamond in the rough—a pair of men who couldn’t seem to tear their eyes off you, each idly toying with the dark liquor in their glasses. You flashed them a sly grin before turning away just enough to keep them in your peripheral vision, watching as they drank you in. They smiled back, one darkly handsome man to the next, their gazes unmistakably intrigued.

“Isn’t that a beaut,” Seungcheol muttered under his breath, hiding it under his glass drenched in bourbon.

“They are,” Wonwoo agreed. “Their reputation precedes them. We complete our duty tonight.”

Before Wonwoo could stand to approach you, Seungcheol tugged him back down, something more than authority in his gaze. “Hold on, brother. What’s the rush? It’s not every day we come across a sacrifice as…delectable as this one. I say we take our time.”

“But, sir… Seungcheol,” Wonwoo corrected himself, remembering they were in a public setting. “We shouldn’t leave any evidence.”

“And we’ll make sure of that.” Seungcheol grinned at his capable, steadfast captain. “Besides, I saw the way you looked at them. Don’t pretend you didn’t, soldier.”

Wonwoo had looked at you—perhaps longer than he should have. Sinful deviant or not, he could understand why others found it impossible to resist you. You were a vision to behold, a captivating stain on the town he might have allowed to linger under different circumstances. But there were no exceptions in the scripture. You would meet the same fate as everyone else they’d killed.

“Nonetheless, we have demands to meet… Seungcheol.” Wonwoo’s tone was even, but his eyes held a flicker of impatience.

The elder man sighed, swirling his drink with a slow, deliberate motion. “Sure taking advantage of my given name, aren’t you…Wonwoo?” He raised a brow, an amused glint in his gaze, though his words held an edge.

“We must stay focused, even if the distraction is so… distracting,” Wonwoo replied, his voice steady but his gaze briefly drifting to you before snapping back.

Seungcheol smiled cunningly, leaning back in his chair as he let his eyes settle on you. “All I’m saying is, why not reward ourselves with a taste of their mercy? Give them a final moment of sin before they see the flames of the inferno where they belong.”

Wonwoo’s jaw tightened. “And would we not be sinning too, brother?”

Seungcheol’s smile faded, and he leaned forward his captain in arms, voice low and commanding. “You dare question my judgment?”

A silence hung heavy between them before Wonwoo let out a resigned sigh. “We need our affairs in order,” he murmured, his tone weary yet resolute.

Seungcheol scoffed, rolling his eyes as he straightened. “Fine. We’ll do it your way,” he conceded.

They adjusted their jackets, sharing a brief, knowing glance before rising from their seats and approaching you with a leisurely stride, intrigue glinting beneath their composed expressions. Seungcheol met your eyes first, flashing that boyish dimple—the one that had gotten them out of more than a few tight spots. 

“Mind if we join you?” he asked, his tone smooth, and inviting, but with an edge that hinted at something far less innocent.

Your teeth grazed your bottom lip as you gave a slight nod. “Both of you?”

“If that doesn’t intimidate you,” Wonwoo replied with a polite smile, the bar light catching his glasses and casting a faint glare that concealed the depths of his true intentions.

“Not at all. Sit.”

And they did, boxing either side of you, each exuding an intoxicating mix of decadence, spice, and something darkly earthy. The scent was almost hypnotic, stiffening the hairs on your neck. 

Every glance, every subtle movement, spoke of a carefully restrained danger, like a coiled snake waiting to wrap around its unknowing prey. Their intensity crackled in the air around you, unsettling yet somehow magnetic. Something about this pair was dangerous on belief and your gut was screaming it loud, but instead of listening, you were anchoring yourself in place, wanting to find out just what it is you should be afraid of.

“I’m Seungcheol, and my colleague here is Wonwoo. And you are?” The dimpled man asked.

As you introduced yourself, both men let your name roll off their tongues, savoring each syllable as if committing it to memory. Wonwoo angled his body toward you, his gaze intent. “That’s quite nice to say,” he murmured, repeating your name slowly, watching closely to see how you reacted to the sound of it on his lips.

“What brings you both here?” you asked, subtly crossing your legs with a teasing smile. “Date night?”

Both men chuckled, clearly amused by how effortlessly they’d caught your attention. “Something like that,” Seungcheol replied, leaning in just slightly. “We’re just looking for a nightcap before calling it a night. Came straight from the office.”

You raised a brow, laughing softly. “It’s 10 p.m. You both work this late? And turn in this early?”

“Well,” Wonwoo countered, a strategic smile on his face, “we never said how long we’d be here… or how brief our nightcap might be.”

You hummed, sipping your wine as you eyed them over the rim of your glass. “You two really do everything together.”

“Yes,” they answered in perfect unison.

“Everything together?” you pressed, a playful edge in your voice.

“Yes,” they replied again, this time with a hint of menace that made the word linger in the air just a moment too long.

The longer you stayed in their presence, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling that something about their composed demeanor didn’t sit right. Call it survivor’s intuition, but something was off. Still—“I suppose neither of you has time for anything else tonight?” you asked a slight challenge in your tone. “A way to truly acquaint ourselves before the night ends.”

“That does sound interesting,” Wonwoo mused, pretending to consider, his gaze never leaving you.

“And what better way to end the night than with a new…friend?” Seungcheol added, his smile sharp as he leaned in.

It was almost too easy. One moment, you were at the club, indulging in a reckless amount of wine courtesy of these fine gentlemen, the night unfolding in a haze of alcohol and sultry gazes. The next, you found yourself in their penthouse, entangled in a kiss with Seungcheol as Wonwoo was tearing off your clothes, the world outside suddenly distant and irrelevant.

You could feel the warmth of the man’s breath against the back of your neck. His spectacles brushed lightly against your skin as he leaned in, the metal sending a subtle shiver down your spine as you counted the beats of his pants. He explored your body with reckless abandon, uttering your name under every tender kiss.

Meanwhile, Seungcheol was evidently impatient, his lips quickly latching onto yours in a frenzy. He wasted no time tracing the surface area of your mouth, as if time were ticking and he knew that sooner or later, it would run out. “By gods, you are something else.”

He pressed up against your body, only the thin layer of your lingerie to protect you as you began to undress him, the concaves and curves of his body scorching under your fingertips. Your moans muffled under Seungcheol’s lips as Wonwoo's moans muffled under your skin, the tautness of their body sandwiching you into a sweltering trap.

“You both have no idea how much I needed this,” you panted, hands roaming in Seungcheol’s hair as his lips latched around your tits.

Wonwoo softly scoffed, loud enough to hear but soft enough to be dismissed. “On the contrary, you don’t know how badly we needed you.”

You mewled under the sounds of his false pretenses and squealed when they brought you naked over the sofa. Seungcheol took a moment to admire your vulnerability, caressing along your sides, spreading your legs so he may position himself between them, and just behind you stood Wonwoo. Impatient for something else entirely, procured a knife from under the couch, just where he had left it. 

Seconds before the spectacle man lifted it up, deciding to plunge it through your shoulder, chest, or even throat, Seungcheol stood up. “Just a moment, darling,” his eyes flickered over to the armed captain in caution, frozen with the hunter’s knife inches above you, “Me and my buddy got to do one last thing before we proceed. Wait for us patiently?”

“All right…don’t keep me waiting too long,” you purred, a slow smile curling on your lips, your heavy-lidded gaze smoldering with anticipation.

Seungcheol steered Wonwoo into a separate room, shutting the door behind them with a quiet finality. He fixed his subordinate with a piercing glare, the urge to drive him to his knees simmering just beneath the surface. “Tell me, soldier—what do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s not ‘soldier’ anymore, sir,” Wonwoo muttered, his voice tense. “I’m doing what we’re supposed to. We can’t indulge in this…” he hesitated, searching for the word, “…depravity. It only complicates the operation.”

Seungcheol stepped closer, his figure casting a shadow over Wonwoo as he instinctively leaned back, nearly cowering under the weight of his leader’s stare. “So you doubt our abilities, is that it?” he demanded, his voice low and venomous. “It’s been a minute since I took on my bitchbreaker on for a ride and you of all people are deciding to be a nuisance. If you’re so certain we can’t balance pleasure and duty, perhaps you should step aside—so I, your capable and trusted leader, can finish the job without you repeatedly defying me.”

He turned to leave, his movements sharp with frustration, but before he could take a full step, Wonwoo’s hand shot out, gripping his bicep tightly. The hold was firm, almost defiant, and Seungcheol could feel the strength behind it—a mix of resolve and the fear of regret that held Wonwoo back. Their eyes met, and in Wonwoo’s gaze was a fierce determination, teetering on the edge between loyalty and a barely restrained desire.

“I’ll follow orders,” Wonwoo said, his tone unwavering. “Your orders. I won’t question you again, sir.”

Seungcheol gave a smug smile, brushing off his right-hand man’s grip before leading him out of the room.

When they returned, they found you still lounging on the couch, but now holding something you hadn’t had before—something stark white and blinding, something that didn’t belong to you and should’ve gone unnoticed.

“Boo!” you laughed, lifting the Ghostface mask to your face with a playful grin as the rest of you was still nude, offering an enragingly tantalizing image.

Wonwoo’s voice nearly boomed as he tried to keep his rage in check, suppressing another sensation that fought him to break out. “What do you think you’re doing?” His eyes flashed a sign of panic, quickly narrowing at you. Had they been caught? Exposed? You were already a risky target, and now you were making things a lot more complicated.

You pulled the mask off with a casual smile, unfazed by the shift in Wonwoo’s demeanor, which was colder than it was moments before. “Sorry for snooping; I couldn’t resist.”

Seungcheol’s calm voice cut through the tension. “Where’d you find that?”

You held the mask in your hands, inspecting it from front to back, not fearing the consequences. “Under the coffee table,” you said, turning it over, admiring the attention to detail. “It looks really real.”

Seungcheol stepped forward, his presence looming as his eyes flickered over from the mask to you, its captor, with an intensity that bordered on possessive. “It is real. We believe it belonged to one of the original Ghostfaces...As historians, we collect these kinds of things.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Ooh,” you grinned, your lips curling in slight admiration.

Seungcheol studied you for a moment, his arms crossed in calculated intrigue. “You’re not scared?” His voice dropped slightly in defense. “Why?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know… I just find it more interesting than scary. And maybe kind of sexy… I don’t know.”

Wonwoo couldn’t hide his disbelief. His voice came out sharp, almost incredulous. “Sexy… you find centuries of bloodshed and thousands of lost lives sexy?”

You paused, your fingers tracing the edge of the mask. “Okay, well not that—the mask! I know it’s tied to awful, disgusting, horrific events, but…” You brought it up to your face, tilting it as you peered through the narrow slits, your voice trailing off in their signature tone of voice that the articles quote were ‘shrill and cunning.’. “There’s something about it that’s...captivating. Like, what kinds of things did they do, and why this mask? What makes it so...iconic?”

Seungcheol’s eyes darkened for a split second, a flicker of something realization passing through them, but he said nothing. Instead, he watched you with a calm amusement, his lips curling into a slight, almost imperceptible smile.

“Really?” Wonwoo’s voice cut through the silence, laced with disbelief. His eyes narrowed as he processed what you had just said, a quiet judgment simmering beneath his calm exterior. “You really think that is sexy?” His words hung in the air, thick with the implication that he couldn’t fathom how anyone could glorify such an image.

Wonwoo was quiet for a moment, his thoughts clearly racing. Yeah, I’m the one doing the killing, he thought, but they were sacrifices—an entirely different kind of thing. They were meant for the greater cause, something you could never understand. He had been the one to offer the death, to carry out the act, and yet you—you—were somehow making it seem like some kind of twisted, romanticized thrill.

He glanced at Seungcheol, whose only response was a raised eyebrow. The corners of his lips curved into that unsettlingly knowing smile, the kind that signaled anything but anger.

Seungcheol retrieved the mask from your fingertips, put it towards him, and shielded his facial features. “So if I wear it like this,” He stuck out a hand to grab you, tugging you by the waist and gliding his hand over your sides, “and touch you like this…”

His palms cupped the underside of your ass, digits digging into your flesh roughly, releasing a sharp breath from you. His body, gloriously exposed, was firm and warm, so inviting you couldn’t help but throw your arms over his shoulders to press against his waist. You stared into the eyes of the mask, stomach-churning at the increase of stimuli and you almost heard yourself growl under your breath. “I don’t think I could resist you.”

Seungcheol removed the mask, holding it in one hand and tightening his grip on you with the other. “You’re a weird little thing, are you,” he asked, narrowing his eyes, voice rich and dark.

“I’ve always wanted deep throat the cock of someone wearing one,” you blatantly confessed, your bottom lip caught in your teeth. 

Seungcheol quirked a brow, interest piquing before tossing the mask in Wonwoo’s direction, who caught it flawlessly, looking back at it in concerned confusion. “Wear it,” said the fellow conspirer, “Make our little guest dreams come true while I enjoy the show.”

Wonwoo didn’t argue, and against his better judgment followed his leader’s orders, securing the mask on his face as he bared his nether region, regrettably taut and aroused. As soon as Seungcheol released you, you fell to your knees, gazing up at the Ghostface mask before drawing your gaze down to Wonwoo’s cock that stood on its own, full of life.

Beneath that mask, Wonwoo held on to his uncertainty, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to the image of your lips wrapped around him. It was about all he could think about since being aware of you, other than killing you that is. Even as you beckoned him closer, with your knees on the ground of where the blood he’s shed–the bodies he’s slaughtered–he couldn’t help but think about how to dispose of you. How to get rid of your stain next. But the moment your lips reach the tip of his cock, his worries and schemes seemed to fade away, vanishing even faster as your pace quickened so eagerly.

Your hands palmed over his waist, and the lust in your eyes was insatiable, making a man—even Wonwoo—wonder how that pretty little mouth could take so much cock. He groaned, grabbing you by the crown of your head, and pushing you closer as he started to thrust, gradually adjusting to the tight, warm press of your mouth. “Oh fuck,” his voice gave out, muffled by the mask. 

He winced as he felt himself hit your throat, swallowing as he heard you gag on his cock—trying to fit all of him and he broke out in a hidden smile, and if he was being honest, he hasn't held a smile like it in a long time.

Why, Wonwoo hadn’t realized how long he’s had a good fucking like this. Ever since he took on as captain, sex was a thing of the past, something not even in the back of his mind, but you. Oh, you. You awoke something that should’ve stayed dormant. Years of training and discipline are suddenly out the window. And now he’s had a taste, he was going to ruin you until you didn’t even have the energy to breathe.

His hand locked between your tendrils, shoving your head impatiently. “Little toy that knows how to play. That’s rare.”

One hand found the underside of your chin, bringing your face up to gaze upon his, and watched as the mask on his face tilted in curiosity. Vice gripping that head of yours, he used your throat, letting his length slide down inside you. “Aren’t you a little slut? Just fucking wet having my cock down your throat, are you? Don’t try to deny it. I don't have to see or feel it. I can smell it.”

You confirmed with a strugged nod, salvia dribbling down your chin as tears began to burn your eyes.

Wonwoo let out a staggered breath, hitching another in his throat with a groan as felt your face touch the base of his cock, holding you in place and hearing you breathe with immense difficulty l. He pulled himself out of you, dragging you by your head, watching you cough on the ground, strings of your salvia ruining the floor and stretching from your cheeks. “You’re such a try-hard, taking my cock when I hear you practically gasping for air.” 

He bent down to level with you, the mask staring back at you menacingly, so realistically. “What? You’re not gonna beg for more?”

“I will, I will,” you assured, a blubbering mess, gasping while the tightness in your throat failed to bother you like it should’ve.

“Is that right?” Wonwoo chuckled, squeezing your cheeks in a rough grip. “You gonna beg for me to fuck your face? Huh?” He inhaled your gasps, body convulsing. His voice was gravelly and stinging with repulsion. “Cockbreath.”

You whined, pleading: “Please, I want to feel it deep, deep inside me, Mr. Ghostface. Give me your cock.”

“Then let me hear how much you want it.”

Your mouth parted, fumbling for the right words, struggling to release them from your strained throat, the sound coming out rough and raspy. “I want your cock shoved in my throat. I want to feel it from one end and out the other. I live for you cock. I’d die on your cock. Please just stick in my throat and don’t stop please.” 

Wonwoo looked down at you, surprised with the spew coming out of your mouth but went with it, shoving himself swiftly back in you, the sensation of your throat welcoming him like it never left. “I better see you swallow every inch,” he warned, his voice thick with malice. “If you so much as breathe, I’ll give you more than enough reason not to,” a smile laced with dark amusement edging his tone.

Meanwhile, Seungcheol watched as he promised, laying aloof back on the sofa with cock in hand and reveling in the sheer desperation from your voice as he stroked his cock to the pace of Wonwoo’s thrusts. 

As the reigning leader of the Spirituals, he was accustomed to having others do his bidding, just as his father had planned. But through his experience in leadership, he discovered he preferred being directly involved. Very involved. And it was moments like this that confirmed it.

“Good little cocksleeve, ain’t they?” Seungcheol commented, licking his lips.

“They certainly know how to make use of themselves,” Wonwoo drawled, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he observed your efforts, taking him with as much excitement as you initially came with.

Seungcheol started getting up, standing beside his partner in crime with a growing cock firmly in his grasp. He cast his gaze down at you, his presence domineering and intimidating, yet all the more mesmerizing. Seungcheol scoffed as soon as your eyes flickered in his direction, and his hands found themself in your hair. “I wonder how they’d take two cocks. How does that sound?”

Seungcheol helped release you from Wonwoo’s clutches and invited you into his as he met your eye level. “Can two cocks,” He produced another Ghostface mask, lifting it to his face, “fuck that pretty mouth full? There’s only one right answer.”

“Yes,” you managed to answer, your voice trembling, tears streaking down your face as you exhale, your flushed cheeks betraying the weight of your words. “Always.”

“Exactly what I was looking for.”

Kneeling between them, you held them both in either hand and traveled down both their lengths. Each Ghostface was more wicked than the other as you shoved a cock down your throat, Seungcheol’s groan following in response. Your tongue dragged along its underside, mouth stretching to adjust its size and familiarizing with your throat just as Wonwoo’s had, and the familiar sting of your tears had caused another stream of heat down your cheeks.

“You dirty little slut, so this is the kind of treatment my partner here has been getting,” Seungcheol took you by the hair, and slammed you against the base before pulling you back to only reach the head, another fit of coughing to ensue. “You better work five times as hard if you want to please me too.”

You nodded, each stroke to either of their cocks deliberate and purposeful, the masked individuals looming in front of you anticipating your next move. Taking Seungcheol back in your mouth, you sucked all around his circumstances, memorizing the veins of his shaft to then do the same with Wonwoo, batting your eyes back at him, your mouth parted wide letting both exit and enter on your own accord.

It was then either tip breached one another, both of your hands rubbing against each other at once that you heard something so delicious in their voices, so real and so pure. And before you could truly savor it, both of them pried your mouth part, either cock rubbing against either inside of your mouth, stretching your cheeks, as they unevenly thrust into your mouth.

It looked like it hurt, and either man was glad for it because, in its own sick way, it was another form of punishment, catering to them would only guarantee your ultimate demise and proving to them once and for all how necessary their roles really were.

Still, they enjoyed it—hell, they were euphoric seeing you put so much effort into such an ordeal, but not more impressed than about how it felt. Each twist of your wrist aimed to pump ego in their lengths, the dampness of your slobber stretching from your chin to their shafts creating a path of viscous filth, and the tension building in their manhoods that never seemed to fade as they attempted to bury themselves inside of your face.

It was momentous, and Wonwoo, who was initially concerned, was elated to reap more of the benefits just as much as his leader.

They shoved you off as soon as one of them was close, landing you on the sofa, flushed with a thin layer of sweat. Wonwoo, lifting the mask slightly above his face, let his lips run down your body, the hard, cold of plastic the mask chill on your body, while his teeth were nipping your torso and soft growls hummed against your skin. Startled, you yelped as he tugged your legs toward him, his cock position almost perfect at your warm entrance before he inserted himself, not wasting time by giving you a warning.

You mewled at the sensation, his rock-hard length plunging against your moist, plush walls. You instinctively gripped his arms for support, his ruts definable sharp, guttural, and primal. He loomed over you, mask still in place, but the shadow cast over his face in combination with just the barest hint of his mouth exposed showed a twisted smile of lunacy, dangerous beyond recognition.

Wonwoo was rough, hurting you in a way you’ve never been fucked before, but it made it all the more pleasure and Wonwoo knew it more than you thought. Seungcheol joined your side, squeezing himself between you and the couch as he propped his cock towards your mouth, slapping it against your cheek. “Open the fuck wide,” he said in a gnarly rasp through his mask.

As you opened, he seized you by your chin, slapping the cushion of your cheek where it already stung, before slapping the shaft of his cock on your tongue. You looked up at him, panting in excited gasps before he filled your mouth, then emptied it, and then filled your mouth again. His free hand claimed your breasts, ruthlessly squeezing them, pinching at your peaks, before ultimately slapping them, every action you could only swallow at. At almost every end, you were filled to the brim, hung in the balance of their mercy, and not once could you open your eyes without seeing stars.

“Can’t fucking stand it, what’s a fucking slut like you think you deserves our cocks for,” Wonwoo slapped the underside of your thigh, the sting of it ringing in your ears.

Seungcheol chuckled, fingers threading through your hair, pulling your head back to see the glisten in your eyes, how they beg without saying so, or how they water in delight. “One would be lucky to be so fortunate. You’ll thank us later and it won’t just be with gratitude, it’ll be a plea for more.”

Wonwoo, almost as blinded with lust as either you or Seungcheol, gave a deep heart laugh as he folded your legs back towards you, feeling him bottoming inside you and hitting a spot that shot you up in space. At this point you were immobile of making conscious decisions that didn’t have to do with sex, deducing you to only something they could use—something they could fuck until they were sick of you. 

You’d muffle something around Seungcheol’s cock, whether it be their names, or calling them Ghostface, it didn’t matter. It was as if the world outside this room didn’t exist and none of them cared for it to exist. Just them and you, and the sound of raw, unbridled sex. Succumbing to their primal urge to unleash pent-up tension and energy—and how effortlessly they did so.

Wonwoo felt his stomach seize, his abdomen tightening as the involuntary contractions slowed his pace, the warmth starting to overcome him, and his low groans took power over his voice as he doubled over. His cum up and out of him in thick ribbons up your path, the twitching of your orgasm quickening in response to his warmth. Simultaneously, Seungcheol filled your mouth, expanding your cheeks, and he gently stroked your throat, “Swallow every fucking bit of it, you fucking cumbottle.”

Your eyes fluttered, pushing the cum down your pipes as he still stood in your mouth, feeling it slide down with a heavy swallow, and you opened your mouth wide to show just how thorough you are.

Seungcheol finally peeled the mask from his face, revealing flushed pink on his cheeks and damp strands of hair clinging to his forehead, making him an undeniably captivating sight—nothing short of a perfect reward. 

Wonwoo followed, his presence marked by a familiar mirage, his smile shifting into a Duchenne grin—a smile that sparkled in a way most didn’t, reaching his eyes and revealing just how genuine it truly was. Underestimating the relief that consumed him. “Finally,” he gasped out.

He stood up, towering over your frame, his shadow falling over you. “Nothing short of our expectations,” he complimented before pressing a kiss to your lips, explosive and electric, foreshadowing how it’d be the last.

He started to retrieve the additional knife from under the couch, its steely presence finally making a comeback, and you managed to catch the glint of it peering at you at a lower glance. Jumping into action, your feet aimed for his gut, throwing Wonwoo off base as the knife scattered on the ground and crashing him hard into the glass coffee table behind him. 

“Fuck!” Wonwoo shouted, pain pricking him at all sides of his body, blood gushing from the holes from which the glass had penetrated. “You bitch!”

“Like I was going to let that happen,” you spat, recovering from your fatigue. 

Seungcheol pinned his arms behind you, an evil smile visible in your peripheral. “And you think I’d let you damage my property like that?” He hissed.

Before Seungcheol could avenge his comrade, you head-butted him from the back of your skull, momentarily blinding him as he clutched his face in agony. “Fuck! Holy fuck! My fucking face! You broke my fucking face!” He growled from the depths of his gut as you backed off of him. “I’m gonna enjoy fucking killing you.”

“God fuck, you knew! Didn’t you, you stupid bitch?” Wonwoo started inching closer to you, the knife a good distance away from him. “You knew who we were and came up here anyway. To what? Get one good fuck? Are you that stupid?”

“Of course, I didn’t fucking know! But I had a gut feeling,” you panted.

“Yeah?” Seungcheol taunted, eye swollen, cheeks and forehead red as he procured a knife from between the couch cushions. “Where that gut feeling take you? Besides getting them rearranged, that is?”

Wonwoo scoffed, finally finding the strength to get up. “Dumb slut like them didn’t get that far. Just good for a fuck.” He spat on the ground blood, gritting his teeth.

Your gaze flickered from one to the other, bare fisted, preparing for the worst. “Why don’t you test that theory then, boys?”

“Fucking gladly,” Seungcheol agreed, voice falling several octaves.

They bolted towards you in blind fury, grasping at you like straw and swinging a knife in your direction, barely nicking you. When Wonwoo ran at you from one end, Seungcheol came at you from the other, attempting to corner you. Determination oozing in their gazes, piercing through your very being, the mirage of the devil’s on both of their unsettlingly handsome faces. 

“Nowhere to run now, you little bitch.” Wonwoo screeched venomously.

Seungcheol twirled the knife between his fingers, a grin stretching from ear to ear. “This is where you start crying. Or begging for mercy? It doesn’t matter like it won’t matter where or what we stab you with next.”

You slid underneath their swinging arms, the knife briefly slicing, forearm and you gasped in response, stumbling backward. Feeling cornered. You slowly backed away, searching for an escape, but by luck, you find something in your purse instead, abandoned on the ground just out of your assailants’ sight. “You fuckers aren’t gonna get away with shit by the way. You should be careful where you leave your things around here.”

They both laugh at you condescendingly, not an ounce of doubt in their eyes. “No one is believing your bluffs, darling. Just come over nice and slowly. We’ll only stab you 20 times each,” Seungcheol feignedly reassured.

Thinking you were defenseless, they charged at you at full speed—until you lifted what you’d hidden behind your cowering figure. A burst of pepper spray erupted from the canister into their eyes, and the sound of grown men screaming from the tops of their lungs, like terrified final girls, seared itself into every wrinkle of your brain.

”You stupid slut! Pepper spray? Seriously?”

”First you swell up my face, then fucking blind me? You’re in for a real one, cum guzzling little shit.”

Seizing your chance, you delivered a final kick, shoving Wonwoo in Seungcheol’s direction, sending them into an unexpected embrace. In the haze of pain, Wonwoo's eyes shot open, the piercing ache in his chest telling him everything he needed to know about what had just happened. “S-Seungcheol…what the fuck…”

As he stared into his comrade's eyes, Seungcheol’s eyes grew wide in realization, and looked down at the knife he held in his hand, now plunged into their chest. The leader followed him as he collapsed, taking the longest moment to register the events leading up to this as Wonwoo’s eyes began to drift close. Gripping his brethren’s shoulders with the anger of a million suns, Seungcheol bared his teeth, voice singing in regret. “You…I’M GOING TO CHOP AND FEED THEM TO MY PET SHARKS, YOU TRAMP.”

He turned to face you swiftly—too swiftly—because as soon as he did, his neck met the blade, slicing from one side to the other until you plunged it deeper, twisting it down his throat before pulling it out. Fury lingered in his eyes, barely alive, as he began to spit up blood, several drops landing on your face and body. Moments later, he collapsed beside his partner, his eyes dulling as the life slowly drained from his face and body.

You collapsed to your side, shakily reaching for the phone in your bag and dialing the authorities. “H-hello…I just killed two men that attempted to kill me…I think I know the address.”

Once you hung up, you summoned the courage to flip your phone to camera mode to capture the evidence, gasping for breath, ensuring yourself of the life left in you. As soon as you did, a gravelly voice cut through the silence. Its owner raised the knife that had once been lodged in his chest, charging at you with bloodshot, deranged eyes. “DIE, FREAK, DIE!”

You managed a quick, well-aimed strike where the sun doesn’t shine, slowing him down just enough. As he stumbled, you seized the knife you’d stolen from Seungcheol’s throat and plunged it into his head, again, and again, and again, screaming at the top of your lungs until he finally collapsed to the floor.

With trembling hands, you struggled to hold the phone steady to capture the scene. Blood streaked down your forearms, and your sniffles provided the only soundtrack to the aftermath.

You’d done it—you’d finally done it. It only took a hundred tries and countless hours of risk, but it happened. You had become the one–if not the only–true survivor of the town’s Ghostface murders. If this didn’t launch your career, you weren’t sure what would.

You just had hoped they wouldn’t come with backup.

[grangerhater]

MINE, ALWAYS

pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

synopsis : they are rivals but once they are assigned roommates for a school trip they actually forget to argue about that, surprisingly accepting they have to share a bed.

warnings: rivals w sexual tension, eventual sexual content, (wanrning : plot before p0rn), piv, bj, f!ngering, one bed trope, everyone is above 18 obviously, possessiveness

smut, enemies to lovers, and some fluff if you squint

The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, and students excitedly disembarked, ready for their annual school trip. Among the bustling crowd, Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N found themselves eyeing each other warily. For years, they had been rivals, their rivalry filled with tension and sparks flying whenever they were in close proximity. This trip was no exception.

Fate had a funny way of working sometimes, and in this instance, it meant that Draco and Y/N found themselves assigned to share a room at the quaint inn where they would be staying. The room was cozy, with a single bed taking up most of the space. When they exchanged glances, they both felt a mixture of anticipation and unease at the thought of spending the trip in such close quarters.

After settling in, Draco decided to freshen up. He disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing through the room. Y/N took this opportunity to unpack their belongings, trying to focus on the task at hand and ignore the butterflies fluttering in their stomach.

Minutes later, Draco emerged from the bathroom, his wet hair tousled and a towel wrapped securely around his waist. His silver eyes met Y/N's gaze, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. There was an undeniable hunger in his eyes, a longing that neither of them could deny. Y/N felt their heart racing, their body trembling with anticipation.

But just as quickly as the moment had arrived, it vanished, replaced with the familiar tension and bickering that had defined their relationship for so long.

"You're taking up all the space," Draco snapped, eyeing the scattered belongings on the bed.

"Well, maybe if you weren't hogging the bathroom for so long, I wouldn't have had to unpack here," Y/N countered, their voice laced with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Draco rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Always finding something to complain about, aren't you?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk of their own forming. "Well, someone has to keep you in check, Malfoy."

As the trip continued, their bickering continued. Every interaction between them was laced with snarky comments and subtle jabs. But beneath the surface, there was an undeniable chemistry that neither of them could ignore. Every look or touch was charged with unspoken emotion, a tension between them that neither could deny. Even when they fought, there was a deep understanding of each other's feelings that kept them connected throughout the trip.

During a visit to a picturesque village, Draco and Y/N found themselves exploring together. The narrow streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of market vendors, but their focus was solely on each other. They wandered aimlessly, their banter providing a soundtrack to their journey. The tension between them seemed to grow with each passing moment, filling the air with an almost tangible electricity.

As they strolled along, they came across a small park, secluded and peaceful. Unable to resist the lure of the empty benches and serene atmosphere, they sat down, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.

"You know," Y/N began, their voice softer than before, "I've always wondered why we seem to clash so much, other than the fact you are a spoiled little prick."

Draco's expression softened, curiosity evident in his eyes. "And what conclusion have you come to, Y/L/N?"

A small smile played on Y/N's lips. "I think it's because we bring out the best in each other, even if we don't always realize it.

Draco's gaze softened, his walls crumbling in the presence of Y/N's vulnerability. "Perhaps you're right. We've always pushed each other to be better, even if we've gone about it in the most antagonistic way possible."

Silence settled between them for a moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, they reverted back to their familiar bickering.

"You're still as insufferable as ever, Malfoy," Y/N teased, their voice filled with fondness.

"And you're still as infuriating, Y/L/N," Draco shot back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

But this time, the bickering was laced with something different. It held a hint of affection, a deeper connection that both Draco and Y/N were beginning to acknowledge.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the village, they made their way back to the inn. The room awaited them, the single bed serving as a constant reminder of the tension that had simmered between them all day.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, their gaze flickering between Draco and the bed. They took a deep breath, their usual shyness and insecurity being replaced by a newfound confidence. "I suppose we'll have to make do with the sleeping arrangements, won't we, Malfoy?"

Draco's eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and desire. "I suppose we will, Y/L/N. Still despise your face though, don’t be spreading around that i allowed you to share my bed."

Y/N smirked, rolling their eyes. "Of course, Malfoy. Wouldn't have it any other way."

And so, with a mix of tension, desire, and undeniable chemistry, Draco and Y/N climbed into the single bed, their rivalry and bickering fading into the background. In that moment, they found solace in each other's presence, their hunger finally acknowledged and their connection strengthening.

When only pure silence was heard right before they fell asleep Y/N heard a whisper yell from Malfoy’s side "You think you're so much better than me? You think you're so much smarter? You're just a nosy, stuck-up, know-it-all-Bimbo!"

"At least I'm actually smart enough to understand the concept of 'personal space!' You're just a spoiled, entitled brat who's never had to work for anything in your life!” she replied firmly yet half asleep

Draco's body tensed at Y/N's comment, their bickering reaching a boiling point. His hands wrapped around Y/N's wrists, roughly manhandling them and pulling them close.

"You're so stubborn!" Draco hissed, his breath hot against Y/N's ear. "Do you seriously think I won't do anything if you refuse to listen to me?"

Y/N glared back, struggling against Draco's grip, but unable to break free.

Draco's grip tightened around Y/N's wrists, a possessive glint in his eyes. He leaned inhis lips brushing against Y/N's neck as he whispered "You're mine, Y/N you belong to me" He trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin as she moaned in pleasure

Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched Y/N struggle against him a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear as he whispered "You know you want this. You want me to take control, to make you mine" With a sudden movement Draco spun Y/N around, pressing her against the wall. His hands roamed over her bodypinning her wrists above her head as he claimed her lips in a rough, possessive kiss.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, her body responding to Draco's touch despite her angerHe pulled awaya wicked grin on his face as he leaned in to whisper in her ear once more.

"You're mine, Y/N. And I'll do whatever it takes to make you realize it" With thatDraco claimed Y/N's lips once more, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of desire as he asserted his dominance over her once more

Y/N's struggles ceased as Draco's touch sent shivers down her spine. She arched her backpressing herself closer to him, craving more of his touch. Draco's hands roamed over her body tracing every curve and dip, igniting a fire within her.

Their bickering forgotten, they gave into their desires their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. Draco's lips met Y/N's, his tongue exploring her mouth as she moaned in pleasure. He pushed her onto the bed, his hands roaming over her body as he stripped her of her clothes

Draco pushed Y/N against the wall, his lips crashing against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. He gripped her hips tightly, grinding his hard cock against her thigh.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite her anger. Draco's hands roamed over her body, his fingers digging into her flesh as he claimed her as his own.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck as he bit and sucked at her skin, leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's body trembled with desire as Draco's hands roamed over her, his fingers finding their way between her legs.

He teased her, rubbing her clit with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her. As he fingered her, his other hand found its way to her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple until she cried out in pleasure.

He continued to finger her, his pace increasing as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Finally, he pulled his fingers out of her, turning her around and pushing her down onto her knees.

He unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock and thrusting it into her mouth. Y/N took him eagerly her mouth enveloping him as she worked him with her tongue Draco's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as he fucked her mouth with a fierce hunger.

He pulled out of her mouth pushing her back against the wall and lifting her legs up to wrap around his waist. He thrust into her with a fierce hunger, his body slamming against hers with each movement

Y/N cried out in pleasure, her body writhing against his as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Draco's thrusts became more urgent and intense, his body trembling with desire as he neared his own peak.

As he continued to pound into her, his grip on her throat tightened leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's nails dug into his back as he continued to thrust into her with a fierce hunger

Their bickering reached a boiling point, with Draco manhandling Y/N and claiming her as his own, he took control making her his in a rough, possessive kiss and teasing her with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her.

Finally, they reached their climax, their bodies writhing in ecstasy as they cried out each other's names. Draco asserted his dominance once more, reminding Y/N that she belonged to him.

Draco's grip on Y/N's body loosened as he pulled out of her, his chest heaving as he looked down at her. Y/N's eyes were closed, her body still trembling with pleasure.

Draco leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he whispered, "You're mine, Y/N. Always" Y/N opened her eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I know," she murmured, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "I wouldn't want it any other way"

Draco helped Y/N to her feet, holding her close as they stood there, their bodies still intertwined. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his hands trailing down her body as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I could never get enough of you"

Y/N blushed, leaning into him as she whispered back, "I feel the same way about you Draco. I love you"

Draco's eyes softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I love you too, Y/N. Always and forever”

They stood there for a few moments longer, their bodies entwined as they basked in the afterglow of their passion. Finally they pulled apart, their eyes meeting as they smiled at each other

Draco took Y/N's hand, leading her towards the bed. "Come on" he said, his voice low and husky. "Let's get some rest, we have a lot more exploring to do tomorrow"

Y/N smiled, following him to the bed as they settled in for the night, their bodies entwined as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms

[impactrueno]

i keep getting amazed by how starkly different betelgeuse and lydia’s dynamic is in the movie versus the cartoon. what do you mean one was based on the other? how did we get “that WAS you stalking me!” from the same source material as “you’re one of a kind, beetlejuice. don’t ever change.”

yeah it happens

it seems like they decided on making a beetlejuice animated series first, and then they tried to figure out how to make it kid friendly. there's this interview that says stephen ouimette's first beetlejuice voices were very close to keaton's in the movie, but that they felt there was something very off about having an "evil creepy guy with a goth girl in the attic" and that was when they decided to soften the character. ouimette did a lighter and funnier voice and that alone was enough for them to feel like he wasn't a threat and the goth girl was safe around him. and i guess things just took off from there as they figured out the characters. it IS a children's cartoon, and being ran by abc at the time they had to keep things cute and wholesome. tim burton was very involved in the creation process (as much as he could while working on batman) so having bj and lydia be friends instead of enemies was pretty much his choice. but again, kids cartoon ran by abc. and that's why we have sugary sweet quotes like the one you said.

seems like even back then tim has always preferred a more amicable dynamic for those two. we already know him, michael, winona, everyone in the cast wants them to be together to some degree thanks to recent interviews. and i think that is why beetlejuice's character was slightly changed in the sequel, from an evil creepy guy to just....a creepy guy with a crush i guess. point is, they don't want him to be The Bad Guy anymore and that's why the sequel is the way it is.

BUT they can't just make him "not evil" and expect it to work, that would make no sense, he still needs to have this creepy and wrong edge to him, and lydia's not gonna just forgive and forget what happened in the first movie. so, combining allllll these elements, we get this brand new dynamic between them: creepy guy in love with the woman he's been stalking for 30 years (pure insanity but not exactly evil) and woman who's like "ugh not this fucking guy again" but still goes to him for help, begrudgingly. she can't quite get rid of him. they're obviously not enemies anymore and they're not friends either. but now it's a bit more believable for them to reach some sort of amicability, eventually.....perhaps in the third one.....we shall see

AND THAT.......is how we got from this concept

to this concept

and finally this concept.

three entirely different dynamics. three three three. rule of thirds, you know i love it. it's a crazy journey but i think it makes more sense when broken down like this.

musical stuff isn't really part of this journey BUT the musical did help soften people's perception of beetlejuice even MORE, so now pretty much everyone can buy into the idea that he can be more than just an "evil creepy guy," to the point where soooo many people were actually dying to see the two team up and be friends in the sequel.

and now the original movie feels like the outlier. oh the IRON-E ok sorry im not using that pun again

[binniesbooks]

hi my fayebae~ since u said u loved the car clip of soobin, here’s one for u to write ur heart away!! (U can of course choose whether u wanna do it or not no pressure!! Im just sending since its at the top of my mind rn, ahh n im sorry for so many request i usually dont send anyt in but🥹i didnt think it would be this fun to see my request coming to life uk but i digress)

idk whether u would like this but:

bf!soobin x gf!brat!reader

they got into an argument and stuff but soobin who still loves his gf comes n picks her up after (cheerleading?prac of some sorts)

Otw home… reader gives the cold shoulder to soob, not talking thru out the entire journey? So soob decides to take a detour n drives to somewhere that doesnt have many ppl looking in the night.

They start talking n tried to resolve whatever their fighting abt, one thing led to another, well reader is giving him a bj!!(the rest of the smut is up to u!!)

inspired by that soob clip of course~ have fun love💗

REVVED UP EMOTIONS

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 3.7k

pairings bf!Soobin x bratgf!reader

warnings oral sex, semi-public, unprotected sex, slight brat taming, being almost caught, pet names (+ anything that I missed)

faye's note this clip was on my mind 24/7. And after receiving it I got excited making this one out but I'm not sure if it turned out good because my mind was kinda occupied with thesis shit. Omfg. Anyways, I hope it isn't dry tho 😔

Conflict is an inevitable part of any relationship, be it familial, platonic, or romantic. Arguments can arise from misunderstandings, unmet expectations, or simply the simple things from daily life. Recently, you found yourself in a heated disagreement with Soobin, your boyfriend.

The sun hung low one afternoon, casting golden lights through the window. You were sprawled on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone. Soobin on the other hand, who had just come home from a busy day at university, was busy, again, in the kitchen, occasional noises of clicks and clangs of utensils on pots and pans plus the opening and closing of the faucet can be heard.

You overheard him murmur "Yeah, dinner for two," as he clicked his tongue. You felt a strange pang of irritation swell within you. It wasn't about him or the meal he was preparing, it was you. You actually promised him you would help out, maybe even cook together, but here you were, scrolling on your phone.

You stood up as you trudged to the kitchen, arms crossed as you leaned on the sink. "You didn't have to do all this," you stood feigning nonchalance as you bit your cheek to not show the guilt you were feeling. "You could have asked me for help."

"Oh?" He looked at you with disappointment, "I thought you were busy checking social media," his blunt reply and harsh tone made your ears hot out of irritation. "I didn't want to interrupt your 'important' scrolling."

The sarcasm was too emphasized and it stung more than you expected. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Your eyebrows furrowed as you met with his gaze. "Nothing! I just thought maybe you'd care enough to have some initiative or something. We both agreed to share the chores. I was tired the whole day only to come back home without even eating a single thing." His voice raised with frustration as he threw down the spatula.

"I was going to help!" Your voice was quite high as you tried to cover how you abandoned your promise. "Oh yeah? I was out all day to finish my projects. And there you were scrolling through your phone." He said as he crumpled the apron he was wearing and threw it also on the table.

"You know what, Soobin? Maybe I don't always want to help! Maybe I want a day off too!" You felt the tension suffocating the air around you. Your heart raced but you're too afraid you're wrong.

"That's fucking selfish!" His voice rose, echoing in the confines of the kitchen. "You can't just say you want a break when we agreed to support each other!" He even added. "Fine! I guess we don't need any support then!" You turned on your heel as if fleeing away would help erase the hurtful things that had been said.

"Hey, y/n! Where are you going!" He called but you did not even take a glance. He called you multiple times but his voice just faded out as you were stomping your way to the bedroom.

That night, you didn't come out for dinner. Your mind was in a whirlwind of regret and stubborn pride. Soobin had a point, you were just lazing around that time, however, you don't want to accept that it was your fault. That same night, he didn't come into the room. Your shared bed feels so empty, but you can't just bring yourself to ask for an apology.

Later that morning, you tiptoed your way out. Still too early that your boyfriend was still sleeping, uncomfortably by the way, on the couch. You just grabbed bread and water and went out.

You two always ride his car to go to school. But this time you were determined not to ask for a simple apology and went out by yourself instead. And yes, you were planning to walk to school for your practice. However, some guy passed by and let you ride their car. Since you know the one who offered you a ride, you accepted the offer. It was Kai anyway, aside from being in Soobin's circle of friends, he was part of your cheerleading team.

"Why are you walking so early in the morning? Where's Soobin?" He asked out of curiosity.

"I don't know, maybe somewhere." You answered as you rolled your eyes, still being stubborn. "Are you two fighting?" Kai chuckled as he watched your actions while the traffic light was still red.

"We broke up." You nonchalantly remarked. Well, that was supposed to be a joke, and you never thought that Kai would actually believe those words.

"Woah shit! You what?" He was really startled at what you said as he covered his mouth while keeping the other on the wheel. You just laughed at him as you took the last bite of the bread.

Your whole Saturday went on like the usual cheerleading practice days. But since your mind is still in a whirlwind of pride, you couldn't focus. Causing you to crash multiple times while practicing. You were even scolded by your coach and instructors telling you that you looked like your mind flying or some sort. You just rolled your eyes at them whenever they turn their backs to you.

For that reason, you got hurt, earning yourself a few scratches here and there. You didn't even bother at all. Kai on the other hand, took the chance to treat your scratches. You're still not aware that he actually took your words this morning to heart and mind.

"It's just a scratch, Kai. No need to create a big fuss." You chuckled as he handed you a few bandages.

"Still, scratches can cause infection." He defended himself.

"Fine fine, you win." You sighed in defeat.

You two shared each other's company during lunch that day. You could even tell that many eyes are watching you -- no, most probably judging you at this point. Nonetheless, you just shrugged it off and enjoyed Kai's company instead. Not knowing that this could fuel some bigger fire. Fire that Kai holds, and fire that your boyfriend holds.

Since Soobin was not on the campus that day, he just stayed at home. He can't even contact you since you purposely left your phone. He was just cleaning all day. Just decluttering everything at home. He knows you're practicing today anyway. The only difference is that he usually accompanies you to school and waits for you until practice is done and brings you home, but now, he's just at home busying himself with the chores. He just planned to fetch you later this afternoon and treat you to some restaurant to make it up to you since he feels sorry about raising his voice at you.

"Let's wrap up here today." Your coach shouts as he reminds the assigned cleaners to clean the gymnasium before going home.

"Ugh! Cleaning this whole gymnasium sucks!" You complained, picking up the materials your team has used.

"Anyway, why are you still here? You're not on the list to clean today, right?" You were pertaining to the young boy tailing you. He smiled as he scratched the back of his head, "I want to offer you a ride home." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Don't you have like, any other things to do?" You asked, counting the pompoms before storing them in the box.

"Don't have any." Kai shook his hand as he took the box from your hand and headed to the facility room.

As soon as you and the other were done cleaning, you immediately headed out, Kai insisted on carrying your cheerleading bag. Once again, eyes were gawking at the two of you. You can hear a few of them mumbling but you still ignored it.

Kai opened his car door to let you in. But before you could even step foot inside, someone spoke which made you stop in your tracks. "Where are you headed to?" You turn around to see Soobin as he brings his window down.

"O-oh Soobin hyung." Soobin nods at the younger boy to notice his existence, his elbow hanging at the open window.

You quickly retreat as you grab your bag from Kai. "I-i thought..." Kai stammered as he looked at you. "I was just messing with you Kai, it's not real." You sighed. "What did she say?" Soobin interrupted as he turned to you. You're just a millisecond late to cover Kai's mouth as the words slip out. "She said that you two broke up." Soobin snapped his head towards the younger, a smirk forming on his lips. "Did she?" Kai just nods, still clueless. "Get in," Soobin commanded over you. "I'll take her home, be safe, Kai," Soobin says as he closes the window, whistling.

The whole drive is deafening in silence. You can't hear anything except the faint music playing on the car radio.

"Wow, did we actually break up?" Soobin states with unbelief as he taps his fingers on the wheels.

You were still saying nothing. "Y/n, seriously, are you still mad at me? You didn't even eat last night." He sighed as he continuously threw you glances. Both of your hands were properly curled up in a ball above your thighs clutching your short skirt as you stared outside the window. Looking at whatever unpleasant view outside that seems interesting to you.

The once bright clouds turned darker. "Is it gonna rain? I thought I checked the weather news before I went out." Soobin whispers, changing the stations to listen to the news.

The raindrops started to fall on the car window, drizzling softly as it made the glass cold. "Grab my jacket in the backseat." Soobin talks to you again, but you're not even giving him a single glance.

Soobin messages his temple, "I wanted to take you to a restaurant tonight to make it up to you, but it looks like it's pouring really hard. I'm sorry y/n, just please talk to me." He's totally losing his patience at this point as if he's gonna burst again but tried his very best not to go over the top. He regretted raising his voice yesterday so much.

The once-familiar view of the road becomes foreign to your eyes. You turned to Soobin, looking at his unusual demeanor. If he'd been talking so much earlier, his lips were totally shut now. You wanted to speak and ask him where he was bringing you or what was wrong but you stopped yourself. Whatever will be, will be, you thought to yourself.

The rain started pouring harder, and the once busy road you were on looked empty now. Thunder clasps from far away making a rumbling sound. You try to rub your shoulder to create friction to keep your body warm. You're starting to feel cold and Soobin hasn't thrown you a glance nor commented anything at you.

He suddenly pulled up on the roadside, and the light from the lamp post dimly flickered inside the car.

"Not gonna lie, I felt like a dumb ass talking to a wall earlier." His eyes met yours for a while before you averted your gaze. He grabs his jacket and hands it to you, "Wear this, you must be cold. I just realized, your skirt is too short, and your tank top is too thin, at that." He eyes you up and down as you wear his jacket.

"This is fucking crazy." He mumbled as he pulled his hair.

"Y/n, baby, look, I'm really sorry for raising my voice at you, hm? I was just really tired last night." He gently placed his hand above yours on your thighs.

Your eyes were following a few cars passing by as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. You felt Soobin hold your face gently. "Baby, please look at me. I'm not used to this. You know me." Soobin's eyes were practically begging. He couldn't stand you giving him the cold shoulder.

The truth is you were just afraid. You're afraid to admit you had acted selfishly. Afraid of facing him after a petty argument over something so trivial.

"I just want you to talk to me," he caresses your cheeks, words so gentle and comforting, "I can't fix this if you won't talk to me."

Soobin pulls you in for a hug, warming up your heart. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, surrendering to him and putting down your stubborn pride. You mumbled a soft sorry as he gently rubbed your back. You let your arms move freely, as you return the hug to Soobin.

"Please don't do this again to me." He kissed your forehead. "I'm sorry for raising my voice, baby. I'm sorry for making you feel upset at me." Soobin's probably the sweetest guy you could ever ask for. He can make you feel loved and appreciated, but of course, you're just stubborn and bratty at times, which makes him wanna lose his temper.

Soobin pulls away, showering your face with a hundreds of kisses. You can't help but giggle at his actions."I didn't mean to shut you out." You mumbled with a pout. "You don't look sincere." Soobin commented which made you pout more. He chuckled as he pulled you in for a kiss.

The kiss felt soft and gentle. That's why you had no idea, why he was shoving his tongue inside your mouth. He bit your lip with a little harshness making you push him away. "Oww! What was that!" You complained. Soobin simply smirked at you. "I'm asking for an apology and forgiving you for one, but not the other issue." His smirk turns to a frown. "Soobin I can explain that..." Your heart began to race, thumping so hard you could feel it in your throat.

"Why don't we use that pretty little mouth of yours on something else good, yeah? Instead of giving people an opening to pounce on you." His eyes scream anger and lust at the same time.

"What do you mean?" You asked clueless. "What do I mean? You really want to hear the exact words?" Soobin taunted. "I don't get what you are saying." You shook your head. "I'm telling you that you just made an opening to let Kai pounce on you. Are you that dense, that you don't even know he likes you?" You were shocked at what Soobin just revealed to you. You opened your mouth to answer only for him to cut you off.

"Or don't tell me you wanted it all along?" He scoffs. "Soobin don't talk like that --" "Don't talk like what, doll? Aren't you the one who told him we're over?"

That's it, those words pushed you over the edge, switching your bratty side once more. "Okay, so what? What if I wanted it all along?" Your voice raised once more. "Kai is a good guy, plus he knows how to take care of someone he likes." You pushed Soobin's chest away from you. Soobin scoffed again, brushing his tongue inside his cheek.

"And I can tell --"

"Backseat. Or else --"

"Or else what? Huh? Are you gonna order me around again? Raise your voice over me again?" You taunt.

"I said backseat, you brat." He fixed his gaze on you and held your wrist.

His words are firm and strong which makes the hair on your neck stand up. He unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted the gear to park, leaving the car idle and the headlights on. You have no choice. You crawled your way to the backseat. you squeezed yourself to fit and pass by the center console. Soobin followed quickly, making his way through the front and back doors. As soon as he settled in the backseat, he ruffled his hair to whisk away some water from the rain.

Your eyes waver as you avert your gaze from him. His hand squeezed both your cheeks, "My patience is running low from your actions, doll. You're making it worse."

Soobin pulled you on his lap. You were almost covering him with how big his jacket you were wearing. His surname is written in big fonts.

He hiked up your skirt only to find out you had nothing underneath other than thin panties. Soobin scoffs, "Don't tell me you were gonna ride Kai's car with just this?" You bit your lip as you placed your hands on his shoulder when he started to rub you with your panties still on.

Soobin clearly knows how to make your knees weak. With just a simple touch and you're back to square one from being a brat. He pulled your panties off slowly without breaking the eye contact. His brows are still furrowed and you can still feel his anger.

"Let's see if you'd still want to ride his car after getting out of mine." He clicked his tongue and licked his finger, pushing two at the same time. Your mouth hung open as you squirm. "S-soob..." You can't talk straight, no, you don't wanna talk actually, but he has his ways to make you open your mouth. "How is it? Still wanna ride his car?" A sly smirk tugging on his lips. In which you replied with just a shake of your head.

"I'm close..." You whispered, biting your lips, watching how his fingers disappears and appears in your cunt. You shudder with the sensation, your high coming to you. But Soobin pulled his fingers out. You whined, hiding your face on his neck as you grind yourself above him.

Soobin's too focused on making you say the word sorry for the said issue. He did not even expect you'll act bratty once again after just apologizing for what happened yesterday.

He gripped your waist. "Stop moving or you'll not gonna cum for 1 week." Hearing this, you whine once more. You can't stand that punishment at least. But instead of getting the words out of your mouth, Soobin wasn't prepared for your action of apology.

You unzip his pants and slowly stroke him. Your face is still hidden in the crook of his neck. Planting soft kisses on his shoulder blade to his neck.

"Doll." His voice is warning yet you didn't budge, with only a small "please let me" coming out of your mouth.

His hand rubbed your back up and down, slipping them inside your top. Your skin is burning to his palm.

"What's with you, huh?" He asked, but he clearly knows you'd rather act like his little slut than let the five-letter word out of your pretty mouth.

You pulled back, squeezing your body once again on the small space between his legs. "Fuck-- just stop giving him signs -- ohh shit!" Soobin clearly shows his frustration at how he grips on the door. You gave him a few kitten licks and swirled your tongue on the tip of his cock making him jolt.

He looks down at you, meeting your eyes, "Fuck, is the word too much for you to say?" You took him whole the moment he spit those words making him thrust up a bit and lean back his head on the headrest.

"Ahh!" His breathy moans filled the car, making the glass foggy despite the rain and cold atmosphere outside. His hands tangled in your hair as you bobbed your head slowly.

You whimpered at how his cock pulsated on your tongue and how his tip kissed your throat. He gently caresses your cheeks as he holds them. You automatically leaned on his hand as you let him fuck your mouth.

His eyes were tightly closed. Lower lip trapped between his teeth. One hand on your cheek to hold you and the other firmly gripping the door to keep himself grounded.

"Baby fuck!" With one last thrust, he's cumming in your mouth. Draining himself on your wet and hot lips.

His heavy pants were the only thing that could be heard inside the car. Not until you hear a knock on the window. You quickly scrambled up your way to the seat as you sat properly, Soobin shoving his shirt down to cover his exposed length.

He opened the window slowly. "Is everything fine? You're hazard is switched on." A police officer said with an umbrella in hand, roaming his eyes inside the car. He even added that he was just passing by and noticed the car had switched on the hazard.

"I'm sure I didn't put the car on hazard though., must be when I got out.." Soobin mumbles, "But everything is fine, we just need to talk something out."

"Take care then, it's pouring hard." The officer apologized before going back to his car.

You looked at Soobin, fear evident on your face. You were doing things in a semi-public place but here you are, totally scared of getting caught. Soobin chuckled at you.

"Can you turn off the hazard light?" He appealed. You propped yourself on top of the center console to reach for the hazard button. But seems like some other button is getting pressed instead, as your hands retreat back to cover your mouth.

Soobin's tongue is licking your exposed cunt. Eating you out while you're still on the center console.

"S-soob, wait.." you tried your best to appeal to him but he did not budge. He continued shoving his tongue inside you. He then gently pulled you back to his lap, slowly sinking you down on his cock.

One of his hands lightly squeezes your neck, the other one pulling one of your hands back. He stopped you from covering your mouth as he continuously thrusts upward.

"Tight.. so tight..." He mumbles at your nape. "Pussy so good for me."

"M-more please." You quietly pleaded as you tried moving your hips. "Someone's eager to be filled." He commented back. "W-wanna be full of you, Soobin." You're feeling lightheaded at how he's squeezing your neck. He can't help but leave hickeys on your shoulder as he thrusts harder.

"I'm gonna get you pregnant at this point," he huffed. "D-don't care, w-want you," your words are slurred as you lean back on his chest.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" No other words just curses, was coming out of his mouth as he felt his cum being released.

You were totally breathless, your body slumped on him, his cock still twitching and pulsating inside your cunt. Soobin is totally worn out, dipping his head down on your shoulder.

"Let's stay like this for five minutes then we'll go home." He mumbled.

@binniesbooks 2024

[hoshigray]

i’m not sure if you’re currently writing for ushijima but if you are/will, could u write something smutty about reader telling him that they have an oral fixation 🤞 (i haven’t really seen any of your works for ushijima so i’m quite curious about how you write him. love your toji works, btw! <3)

Mouth on Body Experience

Oml you're my first HQ!! request, noonie! :00 Tbh with you, I never posted any of my HQ!! works because it was during a time when I was on and off with writing (not to mention it was chara x chara stuff bc I wasn't into x reader stuff back then), so this surprised me when I saw it in my inbox, lol. But I love Ushijima sm, like he's so cool and is definitely one of my top characters in the entire series!! Hope I did him justice in my writing since it's been so long, ty for this prompt! o(≧▽≦)o

Also, s/o to my wonderful mootie, @cu7ie, for helping me out with this!! I hope your day is going swell and wish nothing but good vibes your way~~ ☆ mwah-mwah!!

Cw: Ushijima x reader - explicit content; minors DNI - oral (m! receiving)/blowjob + handjob; implied first time giving him a bj - teasing; biting/sucking on the body (reader exploring Ushi's body with their mouth) - humping + grinding - tiny overstimulation for Ushi - pet names (baby, love) - kissing/makeout session - minor ball worship - Ushi is a bit confused but supportive - will proofread later :P. Wc: 2.6k

You peek through the door to the bedroom, taking the silence into account despite knowing someone is occupying the space. He prefers silence anyway, so it's no surprise that the television isn't even on. The only things that bring life into the room are the warm colors of the sunset painting the walls and your boyfriend sitting on the edge of his bed.

Having Wakatoshi Ushijima as your boyfriend is one of the many mysteries to the world and you. As many outside observers would think, being in a relationship with the guy has been quite a journey. Not to say that is a bad thing, though. If anything, it's been going rather well.

Going into the relationship knowing you'd be dating one of the world's Olympic powerhouse volleyball players was intimidating enough. Yet, it's a different story actually meeting and talking with him in person, his fierce aura adequate to suffocate you then and there. But as the days go by and things calm down, you two slowly but surely feel comfortable in each other's presence. You start acting like a couple and expressing your love naturally.

You knock on the door, waiting for his permission before proceeding inside. When you hear his voice call to you, you move past the entrance and enter his room.

On the edge of the bed sat Ushijima in his usual comfortable house wear comprising of a plain white tee and sweatpants. His eyes focused on the item in his hands, a book that his eyes diligently skimmed from page to page. His concentration doesn't hinder until he notices you walking up to him, his face lifted slightly to look at your figure entirely.

"Hey," you greet him, to which he returns with an incline of his head. "What're you reading?"

"It's the book you left here last night," his deep voice still has you hard to believe, but it's become a welcoming timbre in your everyday life and is now something you love to hear. "I saw the reviews on the back and it had me interested."

You lift a brow. "You read the reviews on the cover?"

He lifts a brow in return. "Are they meant to be ignored?"

The giggle is stifled, trying to exit your lips. So thorough. "No, no, you can read them. Most people will read because of a cover or if the writer is their favorite." Your boyfriend watches you sit beside him, leaning against his shoulder as he returns to his reading. I bet he's gonna read the author's notes at the end when he's done.

You chuckle at your own joke, but Ushijima doesn't pay any mind, just putting an arm around your waist to keep you close to him. The two of you relish in each other's company; the warm hues peeking through the window blinds cover your backs with an imperceptible blanket of warmth.

With the rise and fall of his shoulder, you bask in the sun's dying glow while your breathing syncs with the man next to you. This moment almost fills you with peace, embracing the domestic feel within this space between you and your boyfriend.

But, again, it almost does the job. Because you remember why you even came into his space in the first place and the butterflies in your stomach party to your dreadful dismay.

You peer up to look at Ushijima, who keeps reading until you call for his attention. "Hey, Toshi?" His olive eyes flicker to you when you use his nickname, and your heart skips a bit when he immediately shifts his engagement to you. "C-Can I kiss you?" You don't know why you stammered around your words; it was a simple request, nothing too extreme. It's not like you two have never kissed before, but the idea in your head makes it nerve-wracking.

The tall man displays no reaction outside of a slight lift of a brow, but no words are needed when he places the book down by his side and his hand rest on your soft cheek. Your eyes instinctively close when his face decreases the gap between you, and firm, smooth lips land on your plump own. Just when you would sink into his touch, he withdraws himself from you, leaving a tiny whimper to exit your mouth.

"Can..." Your hand finds its way to the big one on the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek's surface. "Can I have another?"

Again, he doesn't use his words, just inclining his head towards you to kiss you. It's a few seconds longer than the last before he removes himself again, only for you to grip his shirt to restrict him. "Another, please..." your voice dials to a whisper, and a soft moan is shared when his lips return to yours. He retires again. "Anoth—"

Before long, Ushijima shushes your pleas with kisses without further approval. His hands bring you closer to him, and — before you know it — he's now on his back to the bed with you straddling him. Large palms roam around your waist and hips while you kiss him back, slowly venturing further down with each hump of the hips to gently grasp your ass.

There's no point in restraining the moans that naturally flee out of your mouth. This is what you wanted; this is what you came to the room for.

Well, to be specific, it's leading to what you came here for.

Throughout this relationship, you have yet to disclose your oral fixation. Perhaps it's because being with a man like Ushijima still intimidates you to share your sexual interests with the man. Nonetheless, it's something you've been longing to share with him. There have been instances where it would sneak in through your intimate moments, yet you choose to stop yourself and not ruin the atmosphere with your boyfriend.

So you've resorted to relinquishing this craving with activities to keep you busy: the usually chewing gum, biting or sucking on your tongue, or chewing on your nails.

Regardless, today is the day you try to initiate this part of your being with Ushijima. You've been dying to have your mouth on his body for the longest time — especially with how attractive and well-built the man is has been driving you crazy.

It all excites you, enthralls you. However, you snap back to reality when you hear a hot groan from the man you're straddling, realizing you're still kissing him. To your horror, finding yourself sucking on his tongue, you quickly exit off the bed. Heavy pants from the two of you fill the bedroom, and your wide eyes look into his hooded dirty gold ones.

"I-I'm so sorry, Toshi!" You're quick to throw apologies his way. "I got a little ahead of myself!"

"Mmm. It's fine." He nonchalantly reassures you, wiping the spit on his lips with the back of his hand.

Yet, you continue to ramble on. "No, really, sorry about that! I got a little carried away. I was thinking too much..."

"Thinking about what?"

Oh shit.

Now why the hell would you put yourself out like that? "Huh?" You try to play dumb despite understanding it won't work on him.

Ushijima exhales through his nose before hoisting himself up from the bed. "It's pointless to back out of something when you're the one who's done it." His blunt words hit like knives to your figure, internally groaning as he stands up in front of you. "What's on your mind, Y/n?"

Oh fuck, I've done it now. There is no way out of this; you'll have to tell him what's been troubling you recently.

"I...I wanna—Okay. So, I have this thing with my mouth, right?" You can tell the expression on Ushijima's face doesn't coincide with the supportive nod. "It's like...It's a habit of mine where I use my mouth on stuff to stimulate myself?" At this point, you don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Just get this over with, me! I can't take it!!

"So, I've been thinking of...you know," your mind and gut are doing gymnastics, toying with your uncomfortableness to this entire situation. "I want to use my mouth...on your body...."

Olive brown brows furrow and you quickly sprout more nonsense. "Th-That's unless you're okay with it! If you don't think you're okay with it or you feel discomfort, then I won't be hurt in any way! It's totally up to you because I can just—"

"Y/n." Your rambles are muted by the use of your name, his brows still scrunched with an indistinct expression. "I'm not following: why would you want to use your mouth on my body?"

"Well, because," your face gets hot by the second: not just from you revealing your secret, but also your boyfriend asking questions. "I like your body, Toshi. Especially with how nice your physique is, I just kinda want to...play with it a little? Make you feel good..."

Ushijima's facial expression molds to a softer tone when you confess to him, and his eyes drift to the side as if he's searching for the right words to say. It makes you anxious with how in-depth he's taking this into heart, so you squeak when his goldish orbs return to you. "Is it something that I can help with?"

"Umm, yes, yeah!" Confirmation stammers out your lips. "I mean, as long as you're up for it."

He places his hands on your waist to bring you close to him. "I am."

He looks at you with hooded eyes, and the romantic tension from before fills the room. "Yeah?" Your voice winds down to a murmur.

"Yeah." His voice lowers as his head comes down to you, and your lips once again welcome the feel of his.

And with that, Ushijima finds himself back on the bed with you on top of him. You carry more confidence than previously as your kisses become more passionate and hot, teeth bumping into each other and you nibbling on his lip, resulting in abrupt groans.

Your hands venture down to the hem of his shirt, hesitantly raising it inch by inch. And Ushijima notices your desire for access, and a big hand engulfs yours and lifts the shirt to reveal his abdomen and pectorals.

Kisses from the mouth trail down to his neck and clavicle, and he tries to stop himself from moaning to your sweet touches. Your lips pepper all that's exposed to you, quick licks onto his pecs, and gentle bites on his nipples. It's evident now that the man is enjoying your actions, limiting the pleasure in his voice while his hands stick to your waist as his hips rock with yours.

Your hand sneaks down from his well-defined abs to his pelvis, fingers intruding under the band of his sweatpants and brushing against the soft material of his briefs that shield his now erect cock from your mere fingertips. Ushijima hums with his baritone voice, large palms dare calm down to your butt and knead the flesh, and you purr to his firm grasp.

"May I use my mouth?" It was a tiny suggestion, yet there was a distinct connotation. You haven't ever given your boyfriend a blowjob before, so this was new waters you were treading cautiously with. Nevertheless, he surprises you with a nod, egging you on to resume. A feeling of giddiness corrupts your senses, placing chaste kisses on his nipple down to his abs, and Ushijima has his hand on your head the further you go to his lower region.

You're now on your knees on the floor as you pull his sweatpants and underwear to his thighs, and the image of his erection springing out in front of your eyes has you practically drooling in anticipation. Every crevice, every dent, and every vein of his dick is mesmerizing to the eyes, and your curiosity gets the best of you when his body jerks at your hands grazing his balls. How vulgar.

"Hmmm, Y/n, love," he calls to you with whimpers — a rarity to hear but beautiful to the ears. "Go easy on me..."

And you just give him a lovely smile before you move a hand on his cock, stroking the length in a slow but firm motion. He jolts to your grasp, throwing his head back and sinking into the mattress as your palm slides up and down his limb. It gets worse for him when he feels your tongue flicks on his balls, sucking on his sack prompts moans of bliss to substitute the silence of the room.

The summer sun continues to descend, the waning heat losing its touch in the room. But the warm sensation of your mouth on his shaft has Ushijima's skin hot to the touch, his hands gripping the comforter beneath him. And he hisses when he senses the work of your tongue on the tip of his couch, lapping on the sensitive glands while simultaneously stroking him and massaging his sack.

Your cheeks go hollow when you take the head to your mouth, relaxing your jaw as you gradually suck all of him at your own pace. Your boyfriend has to bite on his lip and try to not buck his hips toward you. But it feels so fucking good when the velvety walls of your throat accommodate his girth and size; your wet muscle on the underside of his dick sends electric waves every time it brushes up and down from your bobbing gesture.

As for you, it feels like you're under an ecstatic spell as you work your way to the base of his cock with every suck. The cockhead hits the back of your throat at a delicious angle that you mewl on the member, eyes shut to fully enjoy the experience and commotion between your lips. Tears start to prickle, spit and drool coat his shaft, and your brain goes foggy when his musk blocks your nostrils. The throbbing sensation between your legs gets unbearable by the second, and you grind your thighs together to ease your lust.

Ushijima has done well trying to maintain his steel composure; however, no matter how he tries, he soon succumbs to the warm and pleasurable feeling of your throat when he thrusts into your oral cavity at a reasonable tempo, going faster and faster when the notion of his release crawls up within him.

"Haaaah, ahhhh—Mmmph!" Moans fly out from his mouth, no longer attempting to keep this from escaping. "Dove, I'm about to cum in your—Hnnngh!! Ahhh, shit, shit," and he grabs your head to keep you steady as he ruts into your throat. The orgasm hits the both of you, and a few deep strokes result in him shooting his load inside you, forcing you to drink all he gives you.

And you happily do so, waiting for his thighs to stop jerking as you take in every bit of his essence. Once he's done ejaculating, you slowly remove yourself from his sock, a soft pop evidence of you two no longer connected. You swallow and gulp any remainder of his load before climbing back onto the bed to lay beside Ushijima, who turns to his side to survey you thoroughly with half-lidded eyes.

You sigh with a smile. "Enjoyed yourself?"

While his hand caresses your cheek, he hums as his response. "Did you?"

"Yes, very much so. Thank you, Toshi." You start to feel drowsy as the room becomes dark, the warm colors of the sunset dulling as the moon sheds light.

"Of course, dove."

[puffleyia]

changing room shenanigans

Cedric Diggory x fem!hufflepuff!reader (1.8k words) take this blurb. i haven’t written in awhile, too. Especially smut. but God forbid I starve, because I'm surviving off crumbs at this point. So-- i'm making my own food! :3 the fic is posted here, but you can also show some support on ao3. <33 https://archiveofourown.org/works/55057882

Warnings: smut, bjs

Summary: Eagerly, you watch Cedric during his quidditch practice, and even more so to finish. Getting a little impatient, you decide to follow him to the quidditch locker rooms. 

or

Soft dom Cedric tries out being a hard(ish) dom.

–

You yawned as you stretched your stiff arms to get some movement in after a long night’s sleep, and your eyes still quite droopy. Eventually, you got yourself up and groggily got dressed in your uniform. As much as you’d like to stay in on such a fine Saturday morning, you didn’t wake up at the crack of dawn for nothing. Of course, being the supportive girlfriend you are, you promised Cedric you’d watch him during practice this weekend. You wouldn’t miss it for the world. Heading out of your dormitory, you decide to hang around in the common room. Cozying yourself up on one of the couches, you wait for Cedric. You see some of his teammates leaving for practice already, greeting you as they pass by. After a few minutes, you finally spot him already dressed up in his quidditch attire, broomstick in one hand and offering his other to yours. You gladly take it. “G’morning, love,” he says in a low tone, almost whispering. He yawns as he talks to you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Morning,” you mumble in response. 

“Sorry you had to get up so early.” He said sincerely.

“S’fine, really,” you assure him.

You two started to make your way to the quidditch pitch. The journey was mostly silent, though being interrupted with an occasional yawn. It wasn’t an awkward kind of quiet, though– it was a comfortable kind, something you could bask in.

Words didn’t need to be said right now to express any emotion. Sometimes it was silence that spoke the loudest.

Upon arriving, you rush up to get on one of the tall, empty stands. The team quickly gets to work, wasting no time in practicing.

Time passed by slowly, but it wasn’t necessarily boring. Though you wouldn’t admit the fact that you liked seeing your boyfriend progressively get all sweaty and dirtied up from it a bit too much.

As much as you liked watching practice, more specifically Cedric, you would like it even more to end. 

After what felt like a while, or long enough, it finally came to an awaited end. It must’ve roughly eleven o’clock by then.

You hurriedly get downstairs and meet him on the quidditch pitch, watching him as he slowly descends then dismounting his broom and as his teammates do the same. Whilst the others head straight for the locker rooms, he runs up to you and gives a warm smile.

“Hey.. I’m a mess, aren’t I?” He chuckles, seemingly amused at himself. He keeps a distance yet still remaining close enough, not wanting you to get dirty. “I don’t mind, really,” you say as you peck his cheek. “You look good. You did great back there, by the way. Surely we’re going to win the cup this year.”

He feels a blush forming on his cheeks at your comments. “Thanks.” A brief pause before he speaks again, “I’ll be on my way to the locker rooms to take a shower. Just wait for me, okay, love? I’ll be quick.” 

He’s gone off before you even get to speak.

A few minutes go by, and you start to get impatient. You know you weren’t supposed to, but you did it anyway. You snuck in the locker rooms. By that time, it seems that the rest of Cedric’s team had been gone by then. 

You look for the changing rooms, and by some miracle you walk in on just the right time. The only occupied stall’s door flung open, only to reveal Cedric walking out with his trousers on and is in the middle of putting on his blouse— but you were able to get a peek of what was underneath. He looked fresh from the shower, too, with his hair all wet.

If this is what you get to see after every game, you might just sign up for the quidditch team at this point.

You admired the few moments you had when he was shirtless, how the droplets of water ran down his toned body. It was as if he were carved from marble. He takes notice of you, his face flushing at the unexpected visit. He was putting on his golden striped black tie at this point. 

“Hi,” was the first thing he said. “Hi,” you reply back, the two of you grin at each other during the awkward exchange.

“Why’re you here?” He stammered, still a bit surprised. It wasn’t that you haven’t seen him getting dressed before, no, you have plenty of times. It was just completely unpredictable of you to barge in like this.

Feeling a bit mischievous, you don’t answer his question and push him back into the changing room, joining in as well. It was obvious that it was definitely fit for only one person.

The air in the room shifted quickly to something hot and heavy, filled with enough tension so thick you could probably use a knife to cut it. Cedric didn’t waste a minute, crashing his lips against yours. He slithers his hands onto your waist, pulling you closer so that you feel yourself press up against one another. 

You didn’t think it’d escalate anything beyond a make-out session. Oh, you were so wrong.

Your breaths became shallow, too caught up in the moment to think of anything else. Taking you aback, he suddenly, but gently pushes you down so that you sink onto your knees. Before doing anything else though, Cedric makes sure that you’re okay with this.

Too worked up already, his hand tightly grasps your hair as he shoves your face onto his pants, which does a very poor job of hiding his hard on. “Ced–” you try to speak, but before you could say anything he’s already unzipped his pants and is currently shushing you up with his cock.

“Shhh, just take it.” 

Compliantly, you let him take the initiative of the situation. He wasn’t touching you– or more specifically touching you in a sense to please you. Right now, he was trying to get himself off. Using you. Which you found incredibly hot.

It definitely is way out of what Cedric is used to, since making you feel good is always his top priority. It wasn’t until a couple of days ago you had a talk about this, you encouraged that the both of you try something new. 

While he was hesitant at first (of course he wanted to put you first), you assured him you’d feel good all the same. In the end, you both agreed on Cedric trying next time to be more.. selfish? Selfish. And rough.

You just didn’t think the “next time” you talked about would happen now, of all situations. 

You feel your stomach churn. (You felt like you were going to explode, honestly.) He made you feel all sorts of things, even if you weren’t really his main priority right now.

He slowly pushed himself into your mouth, still careful not to cause any discomfort. To tease him, you swirl your tongue around his dick as you hollow out your cheeks. He grunts at the sudden action. He bucks his hips against your mouth in response, causing you to gag as you take more of him in. 

You grab onto his thighs as if you were holding on for dear life as he begins bobbing your head. You look back up at him, seeing him with a really pleased expression– eyes closed, panting heavily, his jaw hanging, leaving his mouth open in an o-shape as he lets out soft groans.

You could hear him curse under his breath while also muttering words of praise. He only roughens his pace more, beginning to thrust into your mouth as you try to keep up by breathing through your nose, getting all teary eyed too.

“Merlin, you’re doing so well f’me,” he says breathlessly. All you can do is hum in response.

Each time he practically drives himself into your throat, you can feel the wind getting knocked out of you. (In a good way, of course.)  As much as Cedric loved to be slow, sappy, and romantic, he definitely had a filthy side to him and a thing for shanking around in places you aren’t supposed to. 

Yeah. You’d never forget the quickie beneath the staircase in the Yule Ball, or when he went down on and fucked you in the prefect’s bathroom.

Since you’re unable to control your pace nor take any breaks, saliva wells up in your mouth– escaping your lips as you drool onto the floor, and all over his cock. It only serves to fuel Cedric even more, and he only proves your point when you spot him with a slight smirk on his face.

The rush it gives you is overwhelming, you felt as if you’d come like this– untouched. You can’t ignore the wetness pooling in your underwear.

The firm grip on your hair gets tighter, his thrusts more erratic, and you were sobbing, gagging and drooling on his cock. You could tell he was close.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he pants, “just keep letting me use you,” his voice rough and low, that familiar tone he uses unconsciously in bed that you like. He would always be so into every moment that he does little things like that which he doesn’t notice– but you did. You loved taking note of them. 

“Oh, m’gonna–” He pushes your head, forcing you to completely take every inch of his dick. He cums as you’re being held securely in place, nose pressed up against his groin and all. 

Your head jerks reflexively, also gagging as hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat. You swallow desperately. Your poor attempts leave his seed overflowing from your mouth, dripping down your chin.

Cedric pulls you away, his hand letting go of your head as he tucks his cock back into his pants. He was seemingly satisfied with himself.

You swallow the rest of his cum before you speak. “You should do this more often,” you manage to say, in a hoarse tone. He grinned at that fact, quite delighted at his work. “Yeah, I think I got a bit carried away,” he says, not a hint of sorry at all in his tone. 

“You did,” In an effort to look presentable, you wipe your chin, ridding any excess cum on your face. Also combing your hair, which had gone all frizzy, to straighten it out. Or trying to, at least.

“T’was good, though.” You say while flattening out your skirt, giving him a peck on the cheek afterwards.

“Glad you liked it then.”

Both of you hurried on to the great hall for lunch. His teammates exchanged suspicious looks. One asked why he took an unusually long time in the locker rooms. 

[daryascurse]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 | 𝐒𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐔𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐡𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

“And I thought you were so hospitable,” Sasuke says.

“You don’t like a little teasing?”

You sit up again, over him, shifting in your state of half-dress. His stare burns, cold moonlight reflected in a prism.

“Who’s really getting strung out?” Sasuke says. His hand closes slowly, hard on the skin, and ending with fabric pinched between his fingers. “You’re wet through your pants, aren’t you?”

It wasn't a question, but the words hang in the air as if expecting an answer. His hand drops to squeeze your thigh, and a moan escapes your throat. He squeezes again. His hand rocks hard and hot through the fabric.

“Take them off.”

ɴꜱꜰᴡ | ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ ✧ pov : second person, AFAB reader, nongendered pronouns ✧ tags: time skip, smut, angst, one night stand, teasing, oraI / bj, fingering, love bites, spanking ✧ word count: ~5.5k ✧ ao3 link ✧ recommended mood playlist: almond cake

I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

Author's note: an old fic reposted on ao3 a while ago and I thought - might as well repost here for BIRTHDAY! This piece takes place between Shippuden and Boruto; towards the end of Sasuke’s world travels, and obviously before Sakura joins him... using Reader as a sort of stand-in somewhere on that journey. And obviously, at a point that he's an adult in this pre-Boruto time. And I like the idea that while of course he would be known to those who fought in the war, his story has been kept from the spotlight of “common people” so to speak – and he’s happy with it that way.

You spoke to him three times, and it was enough to fall.

The first was but a brief interaction as he crossed into your village. “I’d like to help,” he’d said by means of introduction. And before the elders and leaders had fallen over their own feet in gratitude and lists of chores, you’d sincerely thanked him. In this slowly-healing world, and especially in this small nameless town, everyone needs all the help they can get.

The second was when he stopped you in the street and asked directions to the bakery, clutching a bag of flour so large you worried it would slip from the one-handed grasp to balance it to his chest. In fact, it was so tall it covered his face, leaving only wisps of black hair spiking around the back when he carefully turned down the street you instructed. You’d watched him go with half amusement and half concern, even though he’d proven himself more than capable in the past few days. Watching him pass it to the old baker was when you realized that you’d fallen for him the way you knew, just achingly knew, that girls in his hometown must have.

The third, he almost smiled when you’d brought him a bowl of noodles out by the gardens and apologized for the dull life of this slow village. “Odd jobs don’t offer much glory,” you’d said looking at the row of freshly planted crops, and he shook his head, the soft turn of his lips twisting wryly. Your heart almost burned out of your chest.

“Trust me. I’m not asking for glory.”

The rumor spreads quickly that he’ll leave at the end of the week. So today all the talk is that the elders are planning a banquet, and something in the way he squares his shoulders tells you - no, he’ll slip out tonight, before he can be crowned with any laurels of glory and gratitude. He had refused offers of lodging in favor of setting up a makeshift camp just outside the village. When night falls it’s where you find your feet wandering.

Of course you don’t startle him, he’s far too perceptive. But he lets you approach with only a slight slide glance towards you as he kneels, rustling with a pack in the grass.

“You are leaving,” you say.

“I was just here to help,” he says, giving those same simple words.

“You’ve done so much for a small town. We really are grateful for all you’ve done.”

He makes a sound that would be a laugh, though it seems somewhat out of practice. “It’s not much,” he says.

“But it means a lot to us. I know you don’t want glory or praises, but you have to accept our thanks. My thanks.”

He turns his head away. You wonder if he’s just barely biting back a rude response, but you continue impulsively, speaking to the back of that black hair melting into the darkness.

“You don’t need to stay for the banquet, I understand that. Let me at least offer you a proper bed for one night,” you say. You shift your feet, glancing back at the village. “Please – it would make me feel better, to give just something back for everything you’ve done.”

You’re prepared for your words to be useless. When you turn back to him, you half-expect him to have disappeared into the forests, but he stands with his pack slung over a shoulder. He regards you with a heavy guarded gaze. It gives the courage to press your lips together and try once more.

“Don’t you have – somewhere – people who care about you, people who’d want you looked after, a roof over your head? Just for tonight?”

His mouth twists again, that same sad smile. You wait for his curt refusal, for him to walk into the woods, but his next step is closer to you. He doesn’t say anything. In fact, neither of you say anything as you turn, heart hammering, to lead him back to your humble quarters.

Inside, he lets his pack fall, slipping his sandals from his feet in easy kicks as you flick on the light. You do the same, feeling a gawky lack of grace in comparison to his fluid motions, even in your own home. He reaches with his long slender fingers to unbutton his cloak as you duck your head and walk around him to the sink. The floor barely shakes below your feet as he goes to the bed.

“Here, have some water,” you say.

You sit slowly on the edge of the bed when you cross back. He only nods in thanks. “How long have you been traveling?” you ask.

He doesn’t respond. Drinks deeply.

You look at the floor, then back to him. “By the way, what’s your name?”

He puts the glass down at the side of the table, and after a moment, his eye flits to you, hair falling before his sharp profile. “Sasuke,” he says at last.

Sasuke. Somehow the name sounds almost familiar.

He doesn’t ask you your name. He might not care if you offered it or not. Sasuke’s gaze is still on you – though distracted, as if looking through you. Or seeing something else. Someone else.

You don’t know what possesses you to do, but with that increasingly ghostly stare on you, you lean forward, and kiss him.

Sasuke doesn’t kiss you back at first. His lips are lightly chapped, dry against your skin when you tilt your head away. He blinks, that gaze sliding back into focus. You meet it. When he doesn’t jolt back, doesn’t stand up, you lean forward and kiss his lips again.

This time, his lips move under yours. Your hands come down towards him on the bed, almost crawling closer, and kiss back harder, more fervent. Your heart drums in your ears. Sasuke lets you deepen the kiss, opening his mouth slightly. You turn your head away hesitantly, and he leans with you. When he presses his mouth back to yours his tongue runs along the inside of your lower lip, and you shiver into him.

You draw your feet up, kneeling toward Sasuke. The mattress dips as his legs shift along the bed. His knee knocks into your hand fisted against the bedsheets. You lift it, coming down in a new hold on his thigh. Your bodies push into each other as you begin to follow him down, elbow bent and shoulders hunching when he lies. His hand comes to the small of your back, your knee slides between his. Sasuke bites your lip, and you moan into his mouth. There’s a fire in the kisses now, something unforgiving and rougher coming to the surface.

“Oh,” you breathe sharply when his teeth come around your lip again and he bites harder.

“Sorry,” Sasuke says after a moment, remembering to apologize.

You sit up, blinking, head reeling to take inventory of this new atmosphere. Yes, he’s on his back on the bed. You’re straddling him now as he lies between your legs. And looking down at Sasuke feels somehow strange, vertigo yawning into an abyss of his whirlpool gaze, the light harsh on his face and casting a sickly shade.

You blink again. Your hands press against his chest, and you watch more than feel them move up across draping fabric to the opening. A sliver of pale skin across his chest trembles with the heavy beats of his heart.

“Light,” Sasuke says. The word rasps out, air fluttering in the hollow of his throat.

“Oh,” you say. You shift your weight from one knee to the other. “Yeah, I’ll – I’ll turn it off.”

Your breath slips from between your lips as your fingers tense, pushing yourself off Sasuke to climb off the bed. Those steps to the switch feel far. The darkness sweeps harsh before you when you turn to make your way back, some shaking fear within you that he’ll have really disappeared into the night this time.

“I’m here,” Sasuke says as your feet slide slowly across the floor, as if he knows.

Though your room, your bed, is so familiar to you even in swimming darkness, it feels that this space is no longer your own when you stretch your fingers blindly forward to climb back up. Sasuke’s ankle rolls, knocks into your hand, and the mattress shifts beneath your knees as he sits up to meet you. His hand is bracing at the small of your back. It guides you up over his lap, and his thumb spreads up to stroke against your rib and forward. He’s warm to the touch, but you still shiver, hips dropping and knees pressing into the bed to straddle him once more.

Sasuke kisses your mouth again, tongue pressing your bottom lip to beg for access faster this time. His hand skates up, rubbing back and forth across your waist in insistent embrace. When your hips twist closer to him, it moves up, fingers spread across your ribcage and searching up in a flat, firm palm. Your own fingers flex in response. One hand anchored against the bed, pressing fingertips into the sheets, your other fumbles forward blindly for his clothes.

It’s almost hard to think of what to do once you’ve pulled them off, his body silently acquiescing. This was unplanned, getting this far in the first place. You break the kiss with a slight shake of your head. His last breath gasps into the room. The darkness is beginning to take form as your eyes adjust. Moonlight slots through the window, casting a pale shadow across Sasuke’s face. He watches you. As your own hands still, wrists turned over the smooth expanse of abdomen down to the waistband of his pants, his hand stops as well in a gentle cup of your breast right under your thundering heart.

“Is…” you swallow, unsure of what to ask. “Is it okay? Can I touch you?”

Sasuke cranes his neck forward just enough to press his cheek next to yours, and the pulse in his throat is warm against the side of your neck. “I want you to touch me,” he says, but something in the words – again – goes past you.

Not I want you to touch me.

But his muscles tense, coiled and lean below your hands, as he lowers himself again. Your hands follow automatically to grip the waistband, sliding your knees further along his body as you pull. Sasuke’s fingers are pressing against you as if he never stopped, fingers closing around your nipple as he finds and just barely pinches. You go cold right where his touch pauses, pinches once more, arching your back and sighing aloud.

“Touch me,” Sasuke breathes in repetition.

His hand opens again, thumb gliding down to cup you in one more gentle squeeze. He turns, grabbing at the fabric of your own shirt, and you pause to help slide it away in sequence. Your limbs shake as you move faster. Returning to his pants, you tug them down and off with panting breath.

Adjusting your knees brings you back up on either side of his porcelain thighs, shattered pottery with battle-torn scars. Sasuke’s hand comes back to your waist, but this time his stroking, circular motions go up your back as you bend down.

His breath comes short, the guiding motion of his hand coming faster up to your neck. Between your legs, he shifts his own, coming higher and higher as he knocks into your thigh. And your breath is impatiently quick too, anxious to snatch this moment.

Sasuke cants his hips, sliding his leg higher up. You roll against it as you lean forward. He presses back, your muscles tensing when he lowers the leg back to the bed. You rock your hips down into him, forgetting yourself for the moment to grind against him.

“Come on,” he whispers, and the thick grating of his voice makes you want to tighten your muscles, clenching desperately over nothing.

But you bend all the way down and part your lips, your hand opening around the base of his half-hard cock. Your tongue meets the head in a flat, pressing circle, and he jerks up – again, come on, come on. Obediently, you slide your tongue faster around him, dipping down at the vein already coming harder at the underside. You stroke with the side of your thumb, tracing down lightly to soft skin, gripping the sheets with an anchoring second hand just as Sasuke’s hold tightens at the back of your head.

You can’t take him in slowly. He doesn’t allow for it, with his hips curving higher, hand keeping you above him, and your throat tightens. Your lips close around the growing swell of his cock. He’s heady in your mouth, salty enough to coax saliva. Your cheeks hollow and the next slurping breath is a lewd smacking sound.

“Ah…”

Sasuke’s hips shift in restless agitation, coming higher, and your tongue reaches further down along him. Your fingers dance lightly, down to stroke against his balls, heavy and rolling in your palm. Back up to that base your throat can’t quite swallow enough of. You press the underside with your tongue and feel for that hardening line again. It makes your mouth water even more.

You keep your lips together this time; no sharp pop, no burst of wet gasping, just his cock filling your mouth. Heavy on your tongue. Its twisting and lapping grows fainter as the bobbing motions of your head take precedent action. Up and down, up and down, with Sasuke’s fingertips pressing at you. He exhales again, reminding you of your own need to breathe.

Air catches in the back of your throat, thick from your already-running nose. The slick of your own saliva and Sasuke’s precum rises against your curled fingers, and it lets you slide over him more, no longer whispering touches. His hand tenses, and he groans. The fingers press into the back of your head and fall with the insistent scrape of a fingernail running cold as ice down the top of your spine.

Eyes straining and weeping with unbidden tears, you roll your eyes up to him. He’s blue in the night, the moon catching some strands of colour in his hair and ghosting down across his face. His brow is knit, his eyes screwed tight, the shadow of his nose melting into his twitching jaw as his lips part. Sounds die in his throat, his lower lip just barely moving, mouthing words unseen to you.

You moan, the sound husky and muffled over his cock, and more saliva glides from your aching, drooling lips when you pull your head away again.

“Fuck!”

It’s sharply audible. Between your legs, he quivers.

His hand slides further, down your back, and you wash your tongue over him again. Your jaws are spread as wide as you can as the motion slows. With the next upward move, you let him go in a breaking gasp. It’s hard not to heave for air as you release your fist from the anchored hold of the sheets. Fingers trembling, you wipe the back of your mouth and hide a desperate breath.

The sensation of your still partly dressed state comes to you with the acute sensation of your pants, uncomfortably thick, hot, heavy. You roll your hips down against Sasuke’s leg, taking another moment to catch your breath. You stroke his cock. Still wet against your fingers, his hips buck up in shuddering human instinct.

“And I thought you were so hospitable,” Sasuke says above, his voice strained.

“You don’t like a little teasing?”

You sit up again, over him, shifting in your state of half-dress with his cock in your hand, still slowly stroking. His stare burns, cold moonlight reflected in a prism.

“Who’s really getting strung out?” Sasuke says. The bead of sweat running below his jaw betrays the haughty tone, but he grabs your thigh. His hand closes slowly, hard on the skin, and ending with fabric pinched between his fingers. “You’re wet through your pants, aren’t you.”

It wasn't a question, but the words hang in the air as if expecting an answer. His hand drops to squeeze your thigh, and a moan escapes your throat. He squeezes again. His hand rocks hard and hot through the fabric.

“Take them off.”

Even sliding off the bed is enough to make your legs shake, that yearning heat between your legs burning as your thigh muscles tense. The clothes practically peel from your skin. The cool air doesn’t help calm. Neither does Sasuke’s gaze, so glassy as you raise a knee to straddle his thighs once again.

Sasuke doesn’t sit up to meet you this time, but he grabs at you, demanding against your back to pull you over him. He kisses you without caring for his taste on your tongue, and he kisses desperately. It’s sloppy now, with his own saliva wetting the corners of his lips. When you lift your head and blink to readjust over him, his eyes are still closed.

“No,” he says, opening his eyes just as you wrap your fingers around his cock again to bring him to you.

“And you were so eager a minute ago,” you say, still on your knees on either side of his hips. You pump your hand up, down slowly, and Sasuke’s stomach rises with a conspicuous breath.

“And you’re so eager now. Your turn to wait.”

He’s at your leg, and the open-palmed squeeze is so much sharper against your bare thigh. Your hand falls open, away from him. It almost brings you down with a whimper as the side of his fingernail grooves along your skin again, and he moves higher, higher. You let out another short gasping whine, feet flexing into the sheets as Sasuke traces your inner thigh right where skin turns to velvet. Your hips shake, forward to meet him, and he draws back, tracing endless circles and invisible sketches.

You open your mouth to protest, and instead judder out a shaking “oh” when his finger skips up and returns in multitudes to stroke you. Reaching backward, you grab your calf, your ankle, in frantic balance as Sasuke caresses your cunt, gathering slick on his fingers and smearing it against you with each movement.

“I knew it,” he says.

All you can force is a sigh that becomes a vocal moan as that scooping, fondling hold moves further back, and one finger slips inside you. Easily.

“Easy,” Sasuke says.

“Oh…”

The first pump is slow, relaxing, teasing, a far cry from his eager motions. Your back is arched into his hand, eyes hazily fixed on the shadows of moonlight on the ceiling, but you swallow, finding the roof of your mouth dry when you look down at him again. Sasuke’s face is placid, lips parted with the puff of his breath, but his neck muscles are strained taunt. Black shadows enunciate the pulse shuddering in his throat, the cut of his jaw. His eyes are beyond you, but at your next moan, he comes back. He slides a second finger inside and spreads you.

“Oh,” comes again in a whine. You let go of your leg to stroke against your own skin, touching your lower belly with delicate fingertips, as he begins to push some electric sensation higher inside you with each curl and pump. He moves no faster, but your hips rock even more urgently, eagerly. “Sasuke…”

He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing deep with your call of his name, and opens.

Your own chest is heaving hard as his curls come stronger, reaching deep inside you. Your fingers drop lower, finding with natural ease the tense tender nub of your clit. Rubbing yourself feeds some of that desperate, slow agony Sasuke is teasing from you with those strong, slender fingers. When you fix your eyes to him, his own are direct on you, with his chest rising and falling in barely controlled breath.

“Fuck me,” you whisper hoarsely, as you press your hand against your clit in hard circles.

Sasuke curls his fingers into you before withdrawing, cutting your word off in a sharp inhale as the emptiness strikes you. Without his fingers, your hips roll back, knees hard on his thighs, hand falling away. But the next sensation is so promising that your feet shift, toes pointed and pressed hard into the sheets, when the head of his cock slides right against your teased and sore folds. You rock forward to help him guide himself to your entrance.

The moans from both of your lungs hang resonant in the air when you meet, your own body sliding down against his cock just as Sasuke jerks his hip upward. His hand comes to your thigh again and pulls at the back of your leg, squeezing at the muscle to urge you closer, closer.

You can’t move beyond his commanding motions as you clench around him, so tight, so full inside you, even better when you roll circles to grind him against you right at that angle that makes that core at the bottom of your belly go hot.

Sasuke’s head tilts out of view, but his jaw slacks as his lips part in another groan. His hips rock back, pulling almost completely out of you. When he thrusts up, he’s slick with your own arousal, cold on your skin from the air. His breath is heavy, and your hands climb up across his lean chest for a steady support against pale pectoral muscles.

And he’s deep, he’s fucking you deep as hard and fast as you fuck him right back. You roll your eyes at the sensation, pure pleasure dancing through you and leaving your very skin electric. Your gaze goes up, down at him, and down further, to the flush of his stomach as his own boiling blood rocks new life through him. And lower, to the tremble of his hips twitching off the sheets, to where your cunt is spread swollen over his cock.

“Fuck,” you whimper, the word rising high and jagged out of you as your voice shakes with the movements. His hips roll up, even deeper. Your head snaps back up, and your sigh is a soaring cry.

You ride him with fervent, kneeling muscles, just as much as he lifts to meet you. Each thrust is deep, so fucking deep, that your elbows go weak and you lower yourself to Sasuke’s chest. Rocking back and forth like this – yes, “yes, like this, right there, fuck,” – is that perfect angle. The shivers shooting down your thighs are enough to keep your hips shaking right where he grinds up into you. His hand squeezes, moves up hard against your hip.

His fingers flex, pushing into your skin, grabbing you and letting you go before returning in one sharp, open-palmed slap. Your sigh breaks into a yelp, the breath catching at the back of your throat. He does it again, and the sting radiates from every finger into your skin. You’re completely against his body now, head pressed into the pillow behind him, whimpering as his cock just barely whispers in and out at this angle, clenching your muscles where you feel him.

“Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke,” you moan again and again, the most delicious name on your lips as your mouth rubs on his skin. His shoulder is muscular, the sweat beading from him earthy whiskey against your tongue. You open your mouth with just a little more purpose and close your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks to suck here anew, a ferocious bite.

He gasps, some sound, some word you couldn’t make out getting cut off, and he lifts his hand from your ass to slap you again. You moan into his clavicle.

“Wait,” Sasuke groans, and his heart shudders below you. “Wait, wait – ”

You lower your hips, feeling him swell and throb inside you just as you clench. You whimper into him, gathering strength as he swallows and his skin dips below your lips. He seems on the verge of saying something else –

But he doesn’t know your name, now.

“S…Side,” he whispers. “Turn.. on your side.”

His cock is so heavy, so hard, resting inside you, and you roll in soft circles, not wanting to pull away. Sasuke’s hand rubs right over the smarting skin of your ass and slaps you once more.

“Do it,” he says, his voice tense.

So you do so with a groan, nonverbally voicing the displeasure and discomfort at feeling him slide from you again. You push yourself onto the bed as gracefully as you can, curling your legs up and away. You turn your head up, about to ask, but Sasuke’s knee between your thighs forces your leg straight as he shifts behind you. He presses his chest to your back, a layer of slick sweat keeping your body from sinking into the comforting cuddle of this position.

“Keep your legs apart,” Sasuke says, and his chest breaks away from your body as he rocks onto his shoulder. You curve your hips back, feeling him, resisting the urge to slide your leg down to him and grind over his thigh. He slants forward to meet you, something more teasing than satisfying as you tremble, empty.

“Sasuke!” Your voice breaks as his hand rubs over your ass, the beating, hot skin where he’d spanked you burning under his touch, and even worse when he comes to your overstimulated and sore cunt. He rubs against your slit to find your entrance, leaning fully away.

His cock is hard and wet with you, and he easily slides back inside you with one smooth thrust. Your legs splay, the nudge of his knee keeping your thighs from squeezing together, and the press of his body into yours restricting the motion of your fervently rolling hips. You rut into the mattress and back against him, with a ragged moan coming louder than you expected it to.

In response, Sasuke’s lips find your throat, down into the curve of your shoulder, and scrapes his teeth in a mirroring bite of your own. His tongue runs over your skin so lightly that you shudder. You buck into his body. His hand comes to your waist, pressing you down.

“Fuck,” the breath comes, and it’s him this time, the word hot into your neck.

You groan, letting out another whimper when his tongue brushes over your shoulder again. He tilts his head forward and parts his lips just a little more, enough to make your head writhe and turn back into the pillow when he begins to suck a love bite.

These thrusts are shorter, faster, but as the two of you desperately fuck, it’s perfect, just perfect. The burning flashes of hunger in your kissing and touching and sucking comes to a head here.

Your elbow bends back to let your fingers knot into his hair and tug him closer to you still. Sasuke’s lips move from your throat to your jaw and to your cheek, coaxing your own to meet him in ravenous, loud kisses. His groans mix with yours, and his hand rides down your body with the motion of his thrusts. He rests down, lower on your belly, right where the muscles below your core flutter with each clench and responding stroke of his cock.

“Oh!” You break from his lips, from the twists of his black hair, to moan and clutch at the pillow once more.

And when your agitated shifts against his hand grow too erratic, he pauses, sliding his hips higher up to you as his chest presses hot and sweaty. His cock slams in at a new angle, just as quick and sloppy as his kisses had been. His hand sinks lower still, and while it takes a second to find your clit, his finger presses and rubs with such precision it’s the final push that hotness behind your stomach needed.

“Sasuke - ” you whine again.

“Fuck,” he groans, and as your face presses into the pillow, his lips come right behind your ear, kissing and whispering nonsense as he pushes frantically into you. You reach down to grab at his wrist, and you moan as everything begins to go static.

“I’m – oh – fuck! Coming!”

You come, clenching and weak over his cunt, hips rocking haphazardly into whatever pressure from any angle as you ride the orgasm out. It hits so hard that you feel your pulse behind your eyes, even as you squeeze them shut. Your body shakes with the force of it as everything cramps and releases. Your thighs lose all strength. It rushes, beating slick and throbbing over his cock as Sasuke continues, chasing his own climax down.

His senseless, jagged moans begin to break through your haze, his insistent hand on your clit beginning to feel more painful than pleasurable.

“Sorry.. I’m sorry… I love… I love you.. I’m… so…sorry.”

You tighten your hand on his wrist, about to pull him off, but with a harsh, gasping cry of his own that rocks through your back, Sasuke comes. He lifts his hand and grabs at the sheets, your fingers skating down to close over his fist. His hips crash into yours as he comes, so hard that he almost pushes you onto your stomach. Your ribs contract, the air trapped right in your lungs as he rocks forward, sliding his knee into the back of yours. It beats hot through you, and you automatically feel yourself flutter and tighten around it, weak though the motions are. He sighs, breath hot on your shoulder, the last word of his rambles breaking into something totally unintelligible.

It takes him a moment to relax, for his fingers to flex under the ginger blanket of your own hand. He rolls away, lips just barely wisping off your neck in a motion almost like a kiss, but without the follow through. You raise your hand to the spot, feeling the remnant, tacky stick of his saliva, and trace your fingers down to where the love bite will rise navy blue tomorrow morning.

Sasuke is silent. You turn on your stomach, feeling something drip and dry down to your inner thighs. He’s fallen onto his back, that glazed, half-open stare stuck to the ceiling. You breathe, heavier than you wanted, but he doesn’t shift his gaze to you.

“Um.” You clear your throat, and sit up, stroking gently along his calf as you scoot to the edge of the bed. “Do you want another drink?”

“More water would be a good idea,” Sasuke says after a moment. The “yes, thank you” following feels forced, remembered too late. He’s settling into that distant nature with ease, as the aloof traveler you met and fell in love with only days before.

Your legs shake as you walk to the sink. The only sound is the rustle of the sheets as Sasuke slides them down, making room for the two of you to properly sleep. In the moonlight your body casts a long shadow swallowed by the darkness beyond the window’s frame. The bed and Sasuke are just as hidden, but his pale hand extends for a sip of the glass, a beacon as bright as the moon itself.

Tucked once more into the curve of his body, this time the touch of his chest at your back is soft, gently coming to and against your skin with each settling breath. “When’s the last time you slept in a bed?” you ask drowsily, not expecting an answer. Sasuke doesn’t offer one.

He shifts, arm coming up around you to pull the blanket higher. It slithers over your skin. His fingers drop and drum softly against your arm. Exhaustion begins to melt you into the bed, and you reach, groping in the darkness to find his hand and entwine your fingers in his. You’re overwhelmed with a sudden desire to cry, a pain in your throat dropping to your heart. You close your eyes, turning into the bed, bidding the tears to go, not to spoil these last moments.

“Have a safe journey tomorrow,” you whisper into the silence. You wonder if he’s already asleep, but his fingers flex in your hold, slanting lightly, squeezing you in turn.

“Thank you.”

Sleep comes now, in a spinning hold pressed into you as warm and comforting as his embrace.

When you wake to streaming sunlight, the bed is empty, and Sasuke is gone.

fin.

[coochiequeens]

As modern science and better archeology methods reexamine historical sites more of women’s history will emerge

by Sarah Durn September 27, 2021

  

The National Museum of Stockholm's Ride of the Valkyries was painted during the Victorian period, which saw renewed interest in Vikings. Fine Art Images / Heritage Images / Getty Images

In Atlas Obscura’s Q&A series She Was There, we talk to female scholars who are writing long-forgotten women back into history.

In 1871 on the sleepy island of Birka, Sweden, Hjalmar Stolpe, a Swedish entomologist turned archaeologist, discovered the lavish grave of a Viking warrior. Around the seated body were the remains of two sacrificed horses, as well as a double-edged sword, a scramasax (a long, thin knife), a bow, a shield, and a spear—every weapon known to the Viking world. It was an astonishing find, especially since Viking warrior graves rarely contain more than three weapons. There was also a full set of hnefatafl, the board game often known as Viking chess, which indicates the strategic thinking and authority of a war leader. A thousand years ago, the site would’ve abutted the Warrior’s Hall, where a garrison lived to protect the bustling Viking town of Birka. The weapons, game pieces, location: Everything told scholars that the man buried in what is known as grave Bj 581 was a prominent, well-respected Viking warrior. No one was really prepared when DNA tests were conducted in 2017 and a new story began to emerge. This was a prominent warrior, all right, but the occupant of Bj 581 wasn’t a man. She was a woman.

Viking historian Nancy Marie Brown’s new book, The Real Valkyrie: The Hidden History of Viking Warrior Women, explores what life might have been like for the warrior woman of Bj 581.

Using more evidence from the recent tests conducted on the remains, Brown traces her journey from Norway to the British Isles to Kiev then, finally, to Birka. Brown imagines the unnamed warrior meeting other prominent Viking women, such as Gunnhild, Mother of Kings, or Queen Olga, ruler of the Rus Vikings in Kiev. She also explores the Viking sagas and contemporary sources with a new lens.

How did you initially get interested in Vikings—and female Vikings in particular?

When I went to college, I actually wanted to study fantasy writing and, you know, learn to write like Tolkien. I learned very quickly that that was not appropriate for an English major in the 1970s, so I decided to study what Tolkien studied, and he was a professor at Oxford University, teaching Old English and Old Norse. So I started reading all of the Icelandic sagas that I could find in translation. And when I ran out of the English versions, I learned Old Norse so that I could read the rest of them.

One of the things I liked about [the sagas] the most was that they had really interesting women characters. There’s a queen in Norway who appears in about 11 sagas, Queen Gunnhild, Mother of Kings. She led armies. She devised war strategy. And then I was looking at the valkyries and the shieldmaids and thinking, you know, these are really interesting people that have always been considered to be mythological.

So when I learned in 2017 that one of the most famous Viking warrior burials turned out to be the burial of a woman, that just absolutely dazzled my imagination.

Is this the first confirmed grave of a female warrior that we have?

This is the one that has the best proof. There are one or two others that have since been DNA tested and proven to be female. But in each of these cases, it’s hard to say if the person in the grave, whether male or female, actually was a warrior, or if the object that we are interpreting as a weapon was used for hunting or for some other purpose.

In this case, it’s every Viking weapon known to history. So it’s such a clear result. And the DNA was so completely female.

When Stolpe discovered the Viking gravesite Bj 581 in 1887, he assumed the remains were of a man. That assumption was shown to be wrong 140 years later. Rapp Halour / Alamy Stock Photo

What do we know about the life of the Viking warrior woman in Bj 581?

In 2017, by testing her bones and her teeth, [scholars] could say she was between 30 and 40 years old when she died. They could also tell that she ate well all of her life. So she came from a rich family or maybe even a royal one. She was also quite tall, about 5’7”. By the minerals in her inner teeth, [scholars can determine] she may have come from southern Sweden or Norway, and also that she went west maybe as far as the British Isles before her molars finished forming. She didn’t arrive in Birka until she was 16.

We also have her weapons and a little bit of clothing that were found in the grave. And these link her to what is known as the Vikings’ East Way, which was the trade route from Sweden to the Silk Road.

We can link, through the artifacts and through the bones, that she could have traveled from as far west as Dublin to as far east as at least Kiev in the 30 to 40 years of her life.

How do we know that there were Viking warrior women?

They are mentioned many, many, many times in the literature. In most cases, they have been dismissed as mythological because, of course, we know warriors were men. But we don’t know that. That is an assumption that is based on traditional Victorian ideas that because women are mothers, they’re nurturing, they’re peacemakers, and they don’t fight.

That’s not historically true. Women have always fought. And they appear in most cultures until the 1800s, when Viking studies and archaeology pretty much started. So we sort of have this problem of bias in our earliest textbooks.

But now we have actual scientific proof of one warrior woman in the Viking Age. And as the scientists who did the study say they would be very surprised if she was the only one.

This small female Viking warrior figurine discovered in Harby, Denmark, has been interpreted as a mythological valkyrie. John Lee / National Museum of Denmark

There’s this assumption that the warrior men of myth must have been based on real people, but it’s not the same for the mythical warrior women. Why is that?

It’s just an assumption based on what people think women are like. Most of the material we have from the Middle Ages was written by men, and most of the material we have until the 1950s was written by men, and women are slowly making their way into the field of Viking scholarship. But many of them are still working under the assumptions that they were taught.

I noticed when I went back and reread some of the sagas in Icelandic that there wasn’t this clear distinction between the warrior women being mythological and the warrior men being human. When you actually look at the old Norse text, there’s a lot of words that have been translated as “men” that actually mean “people,” but it’s always been translated as “men” because it’s a warrior situation.

If you’re translating, you have to make decisions and sometimes your decisions have repercussions that you don’t expect, like writing women out of the history.

By the time Hjalmar Stolpe excavated Bj 581, he had become adept at recognizing where graves could be found in the hummocky Birka landscape. WS Collection / Alamy Stock Photo

Is it possible for historians to remove all of those biases?

No, I don’t think it is. I think we all are looking through our own lenses. But we have to revisit those sources every generation to see past biases. So when you have layer after layer after layer of removing biases, you may get closer to the truth.

What most surprised you in the course of researching your book?

One of the controversies right now in Viking studies is should we really be talking about men and women at all? Maybe there were all kinds of different genders. We don’t know if there were more than two genders in the Viking age. Maybe it was a spectrum.

If you look at this one group of sagas called the Sagas of Ancient Times that are often overlooked because they have all these fabulous creatures in them, like dragons and warrior women. It’s really interesting [because] these girls grow up wanting to be warriors. They’re constantly disobeying and trying to run off and join Viking bands. But when they do run off and join the Viking band, or, in another case, become the king of a town, they insist on being called by a male name and use male pronouns.

So it was very shocking to me to go back and read it in the original and say, “Wow, all this richness was lost in the translation.”

[remyfire]

Collection: Fluffity Fluff Exchange 2024

Ships: Peg Hunnicutt/Hawkeye Pierce, BJ Hunnicutt/Peg Hunnicutt/Hawkeye Pierce

Rating: E

Word Count: 18.8k

Note: Happy creator reveal day!! :D So thrilled that I got the opportunity to write this for @onekisstotakewithme as my official first ever punnihawk fic. I had such an amazing time!!

When Peg slowly tips her head back down, there is something about the tentative lift of her brow that makes Hawk hold his breath. "Hawk, I'm going to ask something of you that's incredibly selfish." Hawkeye leans closer as he drops his voice. "Name it." Her cheeks are flushed again. Her lips part. Whatever is going through her mind seems to be difficult for her to put into words, and goddamn, Hawk knows he's plenty selfish enough already, but he still can't help but hope that they're on similar pages, that her desires have everything to do with...with them. Taking a chance. It's petrifying to imagine—if they're not compatible, what happens to Hawkeye and BJ? What happens to BJ and Peg? But it's even more uncomfortable to think of a world where Hawkeye buries his desire to be close to her any deeper than he already has. He's contemplating so intensely that when she does speak, it takes a moment for the words to have meaning. "I want you to come to bed with me."

When BJ's journey home is delayed after his first weekend away since the war, Hawkeye struggles to sleep and Peg meets him right where he's at with an invitation that will change everything.

[harvardhaugland]

closest friend - bosch ♡

a/n: more of an angsty-smut fic haha and once again. not even proofread. HELP MEEEEE. anyone wanna be my beta reader pls 💔

world tour spoilers! chapters 10 - 13 at least! bosch does break into the readers home but everything beyond that one part is all consensual, just a simple passionate bj ^^

Throughout this whole journey for “strength”, running around— doing all types of errands, all for him. You had second thoughts. You’ll be cooped up in your apartment, tussling over in the bedsheets, nothing but silence and the AC running.

When you can’t sleep, you look up at the ceiling and count all the days you had been looking for him.

Hell, the first time you had met, you two barely knew each other. You still don’t even know some basic things about Bosch, like his birthday, favorite food, not even a last name— yet you had always stood up for each other.

The lack of communication between the two of you had started to border your friendship.

You want to see him again, just talk to him, be around him. Just make sure he’s okay through all this. Tonight, you can’t even sleep because of an encounter with him. Back at the construction site. Bosch in some kind of cardboard box-head getup.

Hour after hour, it turns to 2 AM. Your eyes grow heavy— finally, starting to drift off to sleep. Your body hadn’t fully shutdown, but you could squeeze your eyes closed to the very least.

You roll over to the side, facing the wall. Focusing your attention towards getting a good night’s rest rather than the ambient darkness of your room. Slowly, your worries start to fade away, growing sluggish, tensed muscles relax. For a moment, you feel at peace after a few restless weeks without sleep.

The hinges of the window squeaks.

Wind blows in.

Footsteps.

Heavy breathing.

Heavy breathing that wasn’t from you.

Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you, perhaps this is what too little hours of rest does to you, or maybe it’s just all the heavy hits from training you took that are starting to hurt again. So you remain still, sleeping, breathing quieter than whatever— or whoever seemed to be in here with you.

Paper crumples in your ear and it feels as if your pillow is being lifted up.

Your paranoia gets the best of you and you’re quick to turn around, and try to grab the intruder by the arm. To which an audible gasp comes from them. You have them held by the rather bulky cuffs around their wrists, your vision readjusts to look up at who you’re holding— a completely ironic scenario taking place.

It’s you and the “Cardboard Combatant”. Face to face. No bullshit. You won’t let him go this time, making sure to keep hold of him. “Bosch?” you say, gently, “I’m not gonna fight you, if that’s what you’re here for.”

There’s no response from him. He simply grunts. Seemingly displeased, a bit awkward, stiff in posture.

“Are you okay?” You get up. Your hand goes down to hold his, to which he promptly snatches his hand back, a paper note crumpled in his other hand, his fists balled up tight.

Instead he very hesitantly reach out to hold your hands, “I shouldn’t be here, I’m sorry.” he says, “I just had a note for you, that was all. I’m okay.” he reassures, his voice is strained.

“Please don’t leave.” you’re almost pleading with him, you don’t question what the note was for. Bosch is simply standing in place with his head held low. Carefully, you reach to take the box off his head, cautious as if you were dealing with a stray cat, unpredictable. You expect him to stop you, but he lets you take it off. He looks tired, furrowed and upset. Your hands drift up to caress his face, fresh bruises on his brow bone and cheek. He winces when you graze them.

This all feels so ironic to you, you wished upon a star to see Bosch again— and here he is, inside of your room, with the two of you going in to share an awkward, yet intimate kiss.

He rests his hands on your hips, leaning against you, pushing you into your mattress. Bosch nips at your neck with kisses, practically close to biting you with how aggressive he was, desperate, touch-starved. His hands drift up your shirt, he’s excitedly fast, but hesitant at some points, almost in fear that he might hurt you like before.

You flip positions, on top of him this time, unwrapping the shirt tied around his hips, Bosch is laid back against the pillow with a shy look, hand hiding over his parted mouth. He’s hard through his pants— you pull them and his underwear down just enough to free his cock, having to glance up at him occasionally to make sure he’s okay, hands gently working his erection up, soft stroking that makes him squirm underneath you,

You take the tip into your mouth, illiciting a small gasp from Bosch, his hands grab the back of your head, firmly, he starts to slowly push you down further— stopping when you gag halfway down. Starting to bob your head up and down once you adjust.

Bosch’s fingers tangle into your hair, his leg wraps around your head, forcing you to keep at a rough pace, letting you take in deep breaths inbetween.

“You feel so warm.” he remarks, whining your name the more you take him in, when you hit the base of his cock, he’s panting, “..What are you doing to me?”. He’s overwhelmed with pleasure. Sweat running down between his chest and sucking in his stomach. For his first time, out of all people, he would keep his legs apart for you.

He makes your head spin. Bosch is cute when he’s like this, holding onto you, calling your name softly, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could— tears well in the corners of his eyes as his cock twitches down your throat, trying hard to prolong the pleasure.

He whimpers, wanting to get the most of this, but he can’t play around with you any longer. Bosch roughly shoves you back down to the base, nose hitting his pelvis as he pulls out, carelessly cumming all over your face and tongue. He’s speechless, his chest heaves as he grips the bedsheets. His face is red, he’s hot all over, as if he had a fever of some kind. Bosch collapses against your pillows.

There’s drool and cum dribbling down your mouth, pooling at your chin. Wiping it off with your shirt, feeling too exhausted to properly clean up. You tuck him back into his pants, simply laying on top of him, tangling your legs together.

When you wakeup, you’ll find him missing from your bed. Unsure if the feelings shared the night before was genuine now.

[bcbdrums]

Soul Eater NOT - part 7 (MAJOR SPOILERS)

Akane and Clay. Much opinion here amid canon explanation.

These are characters with massive potential that don't make sense ultimately in execution, and undermine other characters in Soul Eater.

I'll start with saying, I adore Clay and everything about him. A goofball. A loyal and competent weapon. Clever, creative, ridiculous, and fun. He feels extremely Soul Eater and is very likeable. I've truly no complaints about him as he's written. Akane, however...

Akane randomly reveals to Tsugumi (someone he has no reason to trust or tell) that he's a member of the Star Clan (the side of them that aren't assassins and run a legitimate dojo apparently) and then...literally nothing at all is done later with this information.

It directly contradicts that Black Star states he is the last of his clan, full stop. The last of the infamous, ruthless assassins. And everything that Black Star is, overcomes, becomes in the end... Becoming his own person apart from his heritage... AUGH.

This fact about Akane was tossed in to grab reader attention and try to make us care about him, and in my opinion it deeply undermines the power of Black Star's journey. I won't go into Black Star anymore here because that deserves its own post (if anyone would like that, let me know) but yeah...

Akane also flirts creepily with Tsugumi and says he's just joking, but it comes up more than once. This comes across as out of character and yeah, creepy. So if the author's goal after trying to make him likeable and relatable and interesting (just by making him Star Clan) was to create a creep, well, he succeeded. This flirting honestly feels self-inserty or...trying to establish something hetero in a story that is otherwise girls girls girls.

Also, Akane has powerful soul perception as a meister (okay makes sense I suppose) but he can also use a soul force/menace attack... Which again, I think is undermining something about Black Star and Stein that make them special and unique in their stories. Maybe Star Clan can all have soul force/menace? But again...that is undermining the special-ness of it for Black Star and Stein.

Akane is overpowered, plain and simple. I feel like there's a specific fandom term for this type of character, but I forget what it is.

And here again... Akane and Clay are drawn as adults but just said to be EAT students...who are working with the academy's internal CIA??? I'm sorry.... They would not have students doing that. This again undermines things in Soul Eater canon, where they bring in the special agent BJ from Oceania for example and make a huge deal out of that... Yes Akane and Clay were undercover, but they should have had them be entirely undercover and not just higher-grade students. It's illogical. And they come across as adults, so it's just more weirdness.

Again, I adore Clay. And if Akane hadn't had unnecessary Star Clan association and the advanced soul abilities that diminish Black Star and Stein... He could have had potential too. In the end he comes across as flat and kinda just nothing.

Oh yeah by the way these guys are the secret bodyguards for the princess all along assigned by her family. Which...how?? They got contacted at the academy as students and contracted by her family?? None of this is explained. It just makes them more confusing as characters and doesn't help the story at all except to explain why they're always hanging around these glrls. This is where it should have been that they were posing as students...but they're just EAT students.... AUGH.

Oh yeah and Akane's full name? Akane Hoshi. "Red Star." I really can't with this...

[mugrootbeer]

Real Talk

Hey, gang. I think it's high time we all talked about something super important, not in general, but to me. I wanna talk about something that I think a lot of my followers may have been struggling with. And frankly, I'm worried that it might keep a lot of people "in the closet" so to speak, and I want to make some stuff clear for everybody.

Would you believe me if I told you I used to drink IBC root beer? It's true! It's really true. I used to drink IBC all the time! In that glass bottle, I felt a sense of "retro" coolness that I wasn't getting out of ordinary canned sodas. But one bottle was never enough. I kept getting more and more six-packs, then twelve, then I was down the local BJ's Warehouse Club picking it up by the pallet.

Of course, now I couldn't be any more different. I "came home", so to speak, back to my first real root beer love: MUG. And I know there are probably a lot of people out there, maybe even people right now, sipping on cans of Barq's, or A&W, or - heh - even bottles of IBC. I want to make something clear: That's okay.

In time I figured myself out, and really asked: "What's important in my life?" Sure, I had to make a lot of sacrifices! And they really did hurt! I still miss my family, my child, but you know what? I'm glad I did it. Because I grew up and faced things that everybody has to face sometimes: MUG Root Beer is the superior brand of root beer on the market. And it's never, ever too late for you to admit that to yourself. So please - know that this is a welcoming place. No matter what step you're on in your MUG Root Beer journey, always remember this blog will be here to help you progess.

[hidden-poet]

0/10 Edmund should have come back to life, rescued us from the capitol, killed snow and taken us back to district 12 🙄.

Jk jk that was so good 😭 it makes me so sad though because she was never going to have a good ending, even right from the start snow was never going to give up. And yet my heart still broke as I read this.

Just little things like how she lies on the grass even when they bring her a picnic blanket is just 😭😭 she just misses home so much IM CRYING NOW WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

this was so well written and I was so angry like I just wanted a happy ending for our girl 😭 Yk I’ve never read a snow fic where snow doesn’t win.

I’ll have to read again when I have the emotional capacity and I’m sure I’ll notice more. But when you get the supply closet scene and it’s just a reminder that he will NEVER change and her words have never and will never mean anything to him :(( and she just has to accept it.

when she’s talking about how he hasn’t hit her in years but she’s sure it’s just because she’s always either pregnant or with one of the babies 😭😭😭😭 you broke my heart. Our poor girl. She’s forever scared of him. when she steps back from him bc she thinks he’s going to hurt her for asking to see her family even right after birth. CRYING.

He was so much worse in this part than any other imo. The manipulation. and here we (me) were thinking he would calm the fuck down once he had her in the capitol 😭.

omfg when he says he “had” to name the baby without her 🙄 boy you’re the president you know full well you could have waited for her.

The BJ scene made me laugh though. He is just a man 😂.

This man makes me SICK 😭 I know what I get into with fics with PRESIDENT SNOW like I said they never end with reader having any semblance of independence.

thank you for this masterpiece. I will be out of action crying for the next week. As an Edmund stan I’m still hurt 🥲. They *should* have been his babies.

long time anon with my long messages but thought I’d not this time since if I could leave a comment this long on the actual post I would have <3

snow lands on top, unfortunately

Thank you! thank you! thank you!

I like to think that the end is a nice compromise for the reader and Coriolanus.

Coriolanus got to 're-write history' like he wanted. He is finally living the life he thought was owed to him before the war. I really did try and paint him as someone who wasn't a bad person inherently, but has learnt to only feel safe if he has total control over everything.

The base line for his character was the line "He wasn’t a violent man, only a man capable of violence". he wants nice things, and power, and to feel unconditionally loved. He's not above using violence to get them.

And the reader got a life where she never had to worry about her children. The reader was very maternal, but if you remembered back to chapter 3 (i think) she talks about being worried about raising them in the district, and what that would mean for them.

I like to think she was generally happy in later life with her kids. She got to experience the luxury of the Capitol, and got to give her children the best life out of everyone in Panem.

While it is sad she never got to see her family again, as someone who has children very dear to her in her life, i would trade anything for their comfort and protection.

Coriolanus was a good father, and a tyrant husband. I think she could appreciate him in relation to fatherhood. Maybe, even warm to him as the father of her children. But in her heart, he will always be commander Snow to her, and that's put a road block on development of their relationship.

Thank you so much for coming along the journey with me.

I hope to create something else that you can invest in just as much.

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

[onekisstotakewithme]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🤍 -ypq

hello! what an opportunity! what a blessing! what a chance for you to get the curated ✨ cool onekisstotakewithme jams ✨ (aka you've unleashed the annoying <3 )

etymology (M*A*S*H; BJ/Peg/Hawkeye) this one is an all-timer, even though I only wrote it in December. the triad's relationship evolving over time tracked via the evolution of terms (complete with dictionary definitions!)

Last Requests (M*A*S*H; BJ/Hawkeye) a tag to 'novocaine mutiny' that i had the idea for in 2018, but wasn't able to write until 2022. i love this story sm. 💜

happily ever after... and after (M*A*S*H; BJ/Peg/Hawkeye) this story... has one of the strongest themes/throughlines of any I've ever written, and it was METICULOUSLY researched, and I still get starry-eyed thinking about it. essentially the theme is 'what happens after the heroes ride into the sunset?' (Very technically a sequel to 'ye who are weary,' but it remains my favourite in-verse story)

In the Still of the Night (M*A*S*H; BJ/Hawkeye) I have a soft spot for this one because it was the very first hunnihawk fic I ever wrote. January of 2018, baybeee. I have no idea if it holds up, but I agonized over this one...

younger in october (than in all the months of spring) (M*A*S*H; Hawkeye/Charles) Charles goes to Maine for (Canadian) Thanksgiving in 1953.

Plus bonuses because i like talking about my work:

katabasis (M*A*S*H; gen) Hawkeye journeys to the underworld at the end of "the late captain pierce"; classics inspired spookiness.

Many a Weary Mile (M*A*S*H; BJ/Hawkeye-ish, BJ/Peg) BJ's journey home - full of reunions and partings

Aurora (M*A*S*H; BJ/Peg) A sort of companion piece to the previous one - BJ's homecoming, from Peg's point of view.