#continuously provide coherent responses i guess?

[nonsensical-shitposting]

I am currently reading your AO3 Magnus crossover fic and I really love it so far!

It is honestly one of the best (if not The best) crossover fic that I have ever read!

I also left a few comments on the individual chapters, if you want to see my opinion and thoughts about each chapter that I have read so far!

I would love if you looked at them and told me what you think about my thoughts! (You don't have to of course!)

Just showing my love and appreciation for you and your stories!

Cheers!

Hey, thanks, I really appreciate it! The sheer ambitiousness of TSWP has always made it the one fic I'm the most anxious about "getting right" from start to finish, so it's always reassuring to be told I'm doing a good job.

I've only read a few of your comments at this point, and while I do intend to read all of them and properly respond, I will say right now that from what I've seen you're asking the right questions and also noticed some important minor details that I don't think anyone else has. I'm... admittedly not sure when I'll be reading through the rest of your comments and properly responding, though, because where I live has spent an extended period of time in the clutches of This One Specific Type of cold, dry-yet-somehow-also-damp weather that tends to wreak havoc on my joints and make me an achy irritated exhausted mess, so I'm not exactly feeling up to providing said responses at the moment.

[i-amm-mj]

Breeding kink - smut to fluff

afabreader! x Katsuki Bakugo

⚠️ smut, breeding kink, dirty talk, creampie ⚠️

Katsuki doesn´t come from a big a family, so he doesn´t know where this craving for impregnate you with at least four of his kids is coming from. He woke up one day with you beside him, and saw your beautiful body sprawled on the mattress and he realized that you had awoken his most primal desires. He wanted to fuck you day and night until he got you pregnant; until he could see your belly all rounded and your breasts swelling and big from the milk that he was going to help you got out with his own mouth.

“That´s it, baby” he growled in your ear while pounding his dick in and out of your pussy “I´m gonna give you all of my cum and you´re gonna take it like the good girl you are, right?” You were so lost on the pleasure that the only thing you could do was dumbly nod.  

 “I´m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Going to give you as many kids as you want” he gulped hard when your walls pulsed around his dick “you´d like that, wouldn´t you?” you moaned. His sinful words and the way his hips moved against your own had your head spinning without a single coherent thought allowed to form.

“Yes, yes, please” you closed your eyes trying to enjoy the feeling starting to erupt in your lower belly.

“Please what?” He smirked while adjusting himself on the bed so he could lift your left ancle to his shoulder and have a better angle to that spot inside that had you curling your toes.

“Plea-please make me a mommy. I want your cum deep inside me” his breath hitched. Fucking hell, he loved when you responded to his dirty talk even with your mind all numb from the sex “Oh, fuck, I´m so close Kats, don´t stop” you said, and he inclined towards you to exchange a passionate kiss. It didn´t matter that it was all teeth and tongue because it was so fucking hot. You were fucking hot.

“Give it to me, gorgeous. Cum on my dick. Make a mess on me” He continued pounding into you so deliciously. You could feel every vein on his dick and the way it pulsed inside you wanting to explode right there.

“Cum with me, Kats. Please cum with me” you begged. A shiver went through his spine and his dick almost burst at the way your voice shook with every word.

“Fuck, I´m close too” he answered furrowing his brows, concentrating on the way your pussy sucked him in. You were so fucking wet that it slipped easily. He hissed.

“Right there. Right there” you cried out and Katsuki moved his thumb on your clit to amplify the sensations. That was all you needed to reach your peak. You moaned even harder and convulsed around his dick which made him cum at the same time. He spurted his cum in your pussy like he promised and then collapsed on top of you. You massaged his scalp, and he purred in contentment.

“I´m serious though” he murmured after giving your collarbones a light kiss.

“About what?” you asked a little confused.

“Knocking you up with my children” you giggled. He raised his head from your chest and pouted “What´s so funny idiot?”

“Aren´t we too young?”

“We´re 26”

“Exactly” you answered with a smile “Kids are a great responsibility and a very big investment.”  

“I´m hero number 5 right now, and in a few years I´ll be number 1 if fucking Deku doesn´t beat me to it, but even if I´m number 2 for the rest of my career I´m sure I can provide even a family of ten. And I´m sure you´ll get promoted sooner or later too because you´re the fucking best at what you do.” He stated.

“Ten!? Omg, didn´t you say four!?”

“Plans change” he smirked playfully. You laughed softly but wholeheartedly. Katsuki loved your laugh. He loved everything about you.

“We are not even married Kats,” you caressed his face with a smile on your face “my mother would never forgive me having a child outside marriage.”

He considered his words for a few seconds, and you tried to guess what was going on in that pretty but stubborn head of his. He then looked you in the eye and without doubt said “Let´s get married then. What are we waiting for?”

[ghostwise]

48 for lace & lirio 👀👀👀

48. dancing with each other

“You know, I taught dance lessons once,” Harding tells him the night after the gala.

Lirio looks up, brows raised, the scarred corners of his mouth already lifted in an easy smile. “That so?”

“Well. Almost taught dance lessons, I should say,” she corrected. “I posted a flier at the tavern but, no one really… responded.”

“No one? Really?”

She nods, lingering for a moment on the memories of all those bodies on the floor, the way they had swayed in graceful revelry to the somber Nevarran music. She’d felt somewhat wistful, seeing how the dancers paired off with their loved ones. Until the giant skeleton had provided a distraction, anyway.

They are in her room, doing nothing in particular, just sharing an afternoon together. Days like this have become a soothing balm to her. There is plenty of excitement in both their lives; a moment of calm is welcome.

“It was back at Skyhold. I suppose everyone was kind of busy,” Harding says with a half-laugh. “Rifts in the Fade, Templars and mages, talking Darkspawn… though now we have Venatori, evil ancient mages, and two archdemons! Same shit, different day, huh?”

“You can say that again!”

“No idea how anyone managed to get anything done,” Lace continues. “Much less little things like… dancing. It was silly.”

“It’s not silly at all,” Lirio huffs. “Difficult times are when dancing is most necessary.”

“That’s a nice thought. You may be right,” Harding says with a smile—then she lets out a nervous giggle. Lirio has abandoned his book by the armchair, and is pacing around the room, looking for something.

“What are you doing?” she asks, watching him scan their surroundings.

“Perfect!”

Lirio swipes a scarf off the table. He wraps one end around his right hand, and the other end around his left, leaving a length of scarf loose on both sides, then he hurries back to Harding.

“Here!”

He looks entirely too pleased with himself, grinning ear to ear. He wiggles the scarf ends at her, and she raises a brow, guessing well enough to reach out and grab them.

“Alright,” Lirio says. “Show me.”

He pulls her up smoothly by the scarf.

“Oh-! Li! Be careful!” Harding gasps. The warning is punctuated by a giddy laugh.

“I am being careful. I’m interested in a dance lesson.”

Harding wishes she could formulate a coherent response, but all she can do is let out a mirthful shout as he spins her, the scarf twisting and untwisting. How well he knows how to coax out her laughter: The giggles from watching her father chase a loose hog at the farm, the late-night games of Wicked Grace at the Herald’s Rest, the laughing fits from a chaotic day in the kitchen with her mom, covered in flour, apple peels scenting the air…

“Alright!” Harding beams up at him. “We can probably do, like, a modified waltz? Watch me... and follow my lead.”

[confusedtravelermari]

misc db rambling abt gohan’s arc and character

gohan’s character arc in the manga is so fascinating because it’s the most coherent right up until it’s not. other characters have arcs as well, but his is the longest and most planned-out, with all these major story events advancing his growth as a person until it all culminates in the end of the cell saga. then you get the buu arc and suddenly he’s written out of the story SO fast it’s almost comical like you had all this buildup with the first part of the story taking place almost exclusively from his point of view and seeing his shenanigans in high school and then he has a whole training arc in the kais’ world then BOOM goku is there. the thing is, it really does make sense for that to happen at some point? because at some point toriyama had to realize that, despite his original intentions to have the story come to a definitive ending and the mantle passing from goku to gohan, his fun little story had exploded into a full-blown multimedia franchise at some point, and that meant the story was Never Going To End. and for that to happen, someone like gohan COULDN’T function as the protagonist, because he is, by nature, conflict-averse and a pacifist to boot. the story literally would not be able to continue if he were the protagonist, because without fundamentally changing his character, there simply wouldn’t be conflict. gohan is literally too smart for the story of dragon ball! he simply wouldn’t make the kinds of decisions his dad or vegeta would make that would lead to bad guys attaining their full power and becoming universe-endangering threats, he’d try to minimize the threat as quickly as possible. because HE DOESN’T LIKE FIGHTING! and that’s the problem! you can’t have that guy as the face of a martial arts story! and you can’t really change that about him, because it’s what makes him distinct and makes his occasional fights all the more compelling, as they require a powerful motivator. but yeah anyways while it does make sense for him to be relegated to supporting cast member in new db content it still stands out as odd because again, you have this whole arc of him finally accepting the mantle and responsibility of earth’s protector and then that just never ever gets spoken of ever again or properly resolved and that still rankles just a little bit. curious about what the new movie is going to do in order to bring him back to the forefront, and whether or not this is a one-time thing OR if this means he’s going to be more active in new Super storylines. honestly I kinda hope not but I guess we’ll see…in general, super has this massive hurdle of working with a cast of characters whose arcs are pretty much over, and their attempts to provide character-driven drama at the same level of the original story has had mixed results at best (squinting hard at vegeta in the dbs manga) but I can appreciate the effort. got a bit long-winded but anyways gohan is still one of my favorite characters in db and i am genuinely curious about this new attempt by the franchise to bring him into the main narrative when he’s been out of it for so long

[choicesarehard]

I keep my streams about Wolf Bride light-hearted. It’s been a hell of a year, and I think we all need a space where we can laugh together. But part of responsibly consuming problematic media is being aware of where it fails. And that’s why I think it’s important to talk about Morgan, and Wolf Bride’s troubling depiction of blindness. 

Morgan is one of the first Love Interests in Choices to have a canon disability. She is representation many players with disabilities, like myself, are eager for. But like any form of representation, writing a blind character requires research. A quick google search will lead you to numerous visually impaired voices who outline the tropes and stereotypes that harm their community. Wolf Bride has included nearly all of them. 

signal boosts are appreciated

Not All Blind People Wear Sunglasses

Morgan is shown wearing dark sunglasses from the moment she appears on screen. And there are certainly blind people who wear sunglasses — particularly those who (unlike Morgan) can still perceive some degree of light and dark, and experience painful light sensitivity. But no context is ever giving for Morgan’s use of sunglasses. In fact, they aren’t even addressed for four chapters. 

[ID: Two screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box over a forest background, and reads “You glance at Morgan, and are surprised to see the dark glasses still covering her eyes.” The second features a labeled image of her sunglasses, placed over a black background, with a selectable button that reads “What does Morgan look like without these?”] What follows is a scene Pixelberry could have used to provide insight into an assistive device the sighted community may not be entirely familiar with. They could have touched on degrees of visual impairment, or why some blind individuals need dark lenses while others don’t. They could even have explained that for some individuals with visual impairments, dark lenses make tasks like reading or navigating dimly lit spaces harder.  Instead, and far more troublingly, MC is given the option to ask Morgan not to wear them anymore. And depending on your choice, the book is coded to remove the sunglasses from her sprite in future scenes. This reduces an assistive device to a fashion choice, something our MC can wish away if they don’t find it attractive. And that isn’t okay. 

Unusual Eyes

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a forest background that reads “With a start, you realize her pale eyes aren’t looking at you, aren’t seeing you, aren’t seeing anything.” The second features Morgan’s sad sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “...I’ve been blind since birth.”] Morgan has a customizable sprite. But regardless of the ethnicity you select for her, she is depicted with pale blue eyes. And that troubles me. Because the stereotype that all blind individuals have cloudy, distorted, or unusual eyes is pervasive and harmful. 

Even when it isn’t tied to another harmful trope — the blind character as mystical seer or psychic — this stereotype create an expectation that blindness is something that always manifests in a visible way. And for millions of blind individuals, that isn’t the case. 

And while cataracts, trauma to the eye, and corneal infections can all cause the clouded effect most of us recognize from media, none turn your brown eyes into blue.  Heightened Senses

Another common stereotype in media is the blind character who’s remaining senses have become heightened as a compensatory mechanism, often to a supernatural degree.

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features Morgan’s surprised sprite in a forest setting and a text box that reads “I guess I sort of...feel things. Like the place on my cheek where the branch blocked the wind.” The second features Morgan’s neutral sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “I can smell the dew on the leaves, and the moss on the bark. Can’t you?] Individuals with visual impairment may learn to rely on their other senses to navigate the world around them. But they do not suddenly gain the ability to sense the location of a branch based on wind patterns, or to accurately throw a dart at a carnival game ballon based on its smell. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a carnival background that reads “Pop! Pop! Pop! Three darts fly through the air, striking their targets.” The second features the white MC with straight blonde hair. Her sprite is surprised, and beneath it is a text box that reads “So you did that by smell, too?]

This trope may seem harmless — after all, it gave us Daredevil, a beloved blind superhero — but it contributes to the unachievable expectations we often place on real-world individuals with visually impairments. And that isn’t fair. 

Of course, we all suspected Morgan’s abilities were due to something other than heightened senses. And that in and of itself is a problem. 

Magical / Supernatural Abilities

To the surprise of no one, Morgan exhibits these unusual abilities because she is a werewolf. But choosing to give a blind character magical abilities should only be done after asking yourself some challenging questions. As visually-impaired Tumblr user @mimzy-writing-online explains:

Your blind characters don’t need a magical ability that negates their blindness. [Ask yourself why it’s so important to you to give them one]. If it’s because they can’t do all the things you want them to do without it, then should you really have written them as blind in the first place? 

And that’s the thing. Morgan isn’t actually written as a blind character, not when it counts. Morgan shoots bullets with accuracy, runs through unfamiliar terrain, and navigates moving objects with ease. She doesn’t use common assistive devices like canes or screen readers. Her sunglasses are discarded at MC’s request. The scientific papers that fill her research facility are not digitized for accessibility or written in braille. 

Even her dreams, which should be reflections of how she perceives reality, look identical to Bastien's — which makes no sense for someone who has been canonically blind since birth. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapters Five and Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a scene from Morgan’s lucid dream. Set in a glamorous hotel, it includes visual details like twinkling lights, and patterned carpets. The color is tinted a grey-blue and the exposure on the image has been increased to an unnatural level. The second features a scene from Bastien’s lucid dream. Set in a forest, it shares the same tinted and over-exposed qualities as the first.]

Her blindness isn’t an integral part of her character. Instead, it’s a narrative device, paraded in front of the reader when it can further a central — and deeply disturbing — plot point. [content warning: discussion of discrimination and child abuse / abandonment ahead]  Morgan Was Left to Die Because She Was Blind 

And Jesus, what a plot point it is. In Chapter 11, we learn that Morgan was left to die in the woods because she was born “wrong, sickly, blind.” But the only canonical disability or illness she is ever shown to have is her blindness. 

[ID: Three side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first two feature the white MC with straight blonde hair’s shocked sprite in front of a forest background. The first text box reads “I don’t understand...” followed by two dialogue options “Why was Morgan abandoned?” and “Is that what you do to full moon babies? Kill them?” The second panel’s read box reads “Just because she was blind?” The third panel features  the old woman Noemi’s sad sprite, placed over a forest background. Her text box reads “If we know an infant will not survive, it is best to let it die quickly.”]

I...am frankly having a hard time thinking through the screenshot-induced fury to make a coherent argument here. To imply that blindness is an impairment so limiting that death is the only foreseeable outcome? That being born blind somehow makes a child “wrong”? The ignorance and prejudice shown in this scene is staggering. 

But equally troubling is the response of the main characters to this revelation. Yes, in fiction, bad people sometimes do bad things. But Noemi isn’t shown to be a bad person. Neither is Bastien, who knew what his pack had been guilty of in the past, and even seeks to justify it to a limited degree. 

Most shockingly, Morgan herself, who in the second screenshot below has just overheard that she was left to die as an infant because she is blind, isn’t angry or upset. She’s almost apologetic, still seeking a place within the pack. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first features Hispanic Bastien’s sad sprite in front of a forest background. The text box beneath him reads “It doesn’t happen often, Clara, but...” The second features white Morgan’s sad sprite in front of the same forest background. The text box beneath her reads “I didn’t mean any harm. Especially after...what I just overheard.”]

By introducing the idea that a child born blind cannot survive, let alone thrive, without superhuman abilities, and then failing to soundly and thoroughly refute that idea through the characters we identify with, Pixelberry is unintentionally perpetuating the same false beliefs that have led to real-world instances of infanticide for centuries. And that isn’t okay. 

I don’t know where Pixelberry will go with the story from here. Perhaps in today’s chapter some of these concerns have been addressed...but I doubt it. In the meantime, I’ve also written to their support staff to express my deep concern and disappointment in the treatment of Morgan’s character. And I’d encourage you to do the same. 

Will I continue to keep streaming Wolf Bride? For now, yes. My VIP subscription is already paid for, and frankly, I want to see Morgan’s arc through. I guess the small part of me that was excited for the representation is still hopeful the narrative can be corrected. 

But I’ll be adding a content warning at the start of each stream for ablism, and that’s something I never thought I’d have to do.  Screenshots courtesy of CrimsonFeatherGames on Youtube

[corpseblouse]

dumb little baby

warnings!!: hard dom!iwa, face fucking, aheago face, c!nt slapping, choking, spit kink, hair pulling, mating press, dacryphilia, dumbification, minor size kink

includes: f!reader, hajime iwaizumi

a/n: also, this is my first time writing a smut so pls be nice to me :)

navigation

you feel your cheeks flush, noticing the prominent bulge in iwaizumi’s pants. you look up from the floor with a small smile on your face, the grip on the back of your hair getting tighter.

iwaizumi is towering over you, lips pulled into a tight line, eyebrows furrowed, and a red tint to the top of his ears and cheeks.

he yanks your head back, eliciting a guttural whine from the back of your throat, “look at you, staring at my cock with that dumb fucking look on your face,” you feel his hand reach down and squeeze your jaw, ultimately opening your mouth. you take it upon yourself to slowly bring your tongue out begging for his spit to coat your tongue, but too shy to say anything.

iwaizumi scoffs and let’s go of your jaw, smacking your right cheek, “if you want something, use your words dumb slut.” you whimper, slightly shying away from his hard gaze. you feel his hand lightly tap your cheek, silently telling you to open your mouth wider. your smile grows, knowing you’re going to get what you’ve been wanting.

“aww, does the dumb little baby not know how to use her words?” he coos with faux sympathy laced into his words.

“i guess i have to give you what you want in order for you to stop fucking whining.” you clench your thighs together, listening to the way his tone falls octaves lower with each passing second.

you let your mouth go slack, pushing your tongue farther out. iwaizumi rolls his eyes while collecting spit into his mouth. your eyes roll to the back of your head, hearing the lewd noise of iwaizumi spitting into your mouth. “don’t fucking swallow.” he demands, you keep your mouth open, tongue wet with both his and your spit. it was truly a sight seeing the way your tongue was slowly dripping with his spit, iwaizumi knew he had to ruin you. you look up at him with pleading eyes, wanting to feel the taste of him linger in your mouth but knowing he won’t go easy on you.

“look at you, you’re such a messy little thing,” you whine, still not wanting to verbally ask for what you want.

“stop fucking whining, slut.” he says as let’s go of the back of your head. iwaizumi begins to unbuckle his pants and your mouth waters at the slight wet spot found on the front of his boxers. he slips his cock out, stroking it in front of your face.

his cock was something he surely took pride in, it was thick and long with a large vein running underneath. the tip of his cock was always a beet red and is extremely sensitive, especially after orgasming more than once.

often times, you would find yourself begging for, “just the tip.” because you adored how needy he would become to push the entirety of his length inside of you. but, of course respecting his baby’s wishes, he stretches you out with the tip of his cock while rubbing your swollen bud; hoping to elicit orgasm after orgasm out of you, even if it took all his will power.

you notice precum slightly leaking from the red tip of his cock, his thumb gathers it from the head and spreads it down the shaft. you make eye contact with him, wanting it in your mouth.

he grabs the sides of your face, pulling you towards his length. you keep your mouth open, anticipating his cock entering your awaiting mouth.

“keep your slutty mouth open and your head still,” he grunts, thrusting his cock into your mouth.

you shut your eyes, fighting the tears threatening to fall down your face, and a violent gag rising up your throat. his grip around your head tightens as he stares at your face, tears are rolling down your cheeks, spit drooling out of your mouth, and your cheeks and neck are adorned with a slight pink tint.

it was quite a filthy sight for iwaizumi, he took a moment to relish in how stupid you went for his cock. eyes crossing, tears streaking down your face, drool dripping down your chin, and his hard cock in your mouth.

“fuck,” he groans, snapping out of his haze.

he pulls his cock almost all the way out, tip still lodged between your lips, and snaps his hips back at your face.

you tightly hold your thumb into your fist, trying to alleviate the gag fighting it’s way up your throat from iwaizumi’s cock constantly pushing past your gag reflex. your eyes begin to blur with tears as iwaizumi pushes farther down your throat.

he growls, pulling your head back slipping his cock out of your mouth. you gasp for air, constantly blinking back tears desperately hoping you’re able to see his aroused face.

his flushed cheeks grow darker witnessing your doe eyes staring up at him with a fucked out face, he can’t help thinking about how stupid you’ll look being fucked wide open on his cock.

you feel yourself zoning out, staring at his throbbing cock. the head’s an angry red with beads of pre-cum dripping out of the tip. you lean your head forward, trying to lick at the tip, but you’re instead met with a sting on your right cheek.

“get up, and get on the bed,” he groans out, your eyes travel up his toned body where you meet each other’s eyes.

you get up from the floor and lay yourself onto the plush bed on your back, you clench your thighs together needing to alleviate the throbbing of your core.

iwaizumi kneels on the bed, placing his hand on your knee roughly separating it from the other. he catches the sight of your dripping c!nt, slick from the man handling and rough face fucking.

his thumb finds your cl!t easily, calloused finger rubbing the bud in slow circles. you keen, finally feeling some relief from the small amount of pleasure he’s providing for you.

he sits back on the back of his calves, admiring how your juices flow out of you in an obscene way. his eyes travel up to your breasts, noticing your n!pples hardening from your arousal.

he snaps out of his daze, slightly raises his hand up and smacks it onto your hardening cl!t. the slap makes a lewd noise from the constant arousal drooling from your quivering hole; the mixture of pain and pleasure causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head.

“you liked that, huh?” he teases.

“such a dirty slut, you like when i rough you up like a little slut?” you whine and nod in response, not being able to form a coherent sentence.

not being satisfied with your answer, he raises his hand again and slaps it back down onto your c!nt with much more force this time. you feel your lower half jump out of surprise, silently begging for more stimulation.

“i asked you a question, use your words and answer me.“ he growls out, much more frustrated than before.

you whine, meeting his eyes and shying away not having the confidence to say anything.

“yes,” you meekly whisper out.

“louder.“ he presses, slapping your c!nt once again. you try to push your thighs together, feeling your high coming faster than you expected. iwaizumi growls, roughly grabbing the back of your thighs and forces them back open.

“yes! i like it!” you say, this time much louder and with a newfound confidence in your voice.

“good girl,” you smile, finally getting the praise you’ve been wanting.

iawaizumi pulls his hand away from your c!nt, spreading your juices onto his cock. you whine, missing his touch, which results in him grabbing your chin roughly prying your mouth open.

iwaizumi, once again, spits in your mouth but this time let’s you swallow to give you some satisfaction while he preps his cock for your awaiting hole.

he lets go of your face, lining up his cock with your entrance.

iwaizumi purposefully didn’t prep you, because he knows you like to feel the stretch of his cock entering your tight c!nt. that’s just how much of a slut you are for him.

he brings your legs up, knees touching your chest painfully, and slowly pushes his tip inside of you. you already feel your walls straining around the head of his cock, trying to stretch around him to fit.

“come on baby, let me in, relax.” he coos into your ear.

you feel his abdomen lightly graze your clit, causing you to cry out at the little contact you receive.

“that’s it, let me in baby,” he pushes himself in deeper, ignoring your whimpers and cries.

“p-please.” you whine out, feeling the coil in your stomach slowly start to tighten painfully. iwaizumi feels your c!nt fluttering around him, squeezing him incredibly tight.

“are you about to fucking cum?” he chuckles out. you whimper, nodding your head but barely keeping the tears from falling from your eyes. his big hands press against your abdomen, thumb finding your clit, and starts rolling the bud between his finger, increasing the pace gradually.

he continues pushing himself inside, enjoying your spasming c!nt sucking him inside and your already fucked out face.

“come on, baby. cum for me.” his fingers speed up at the same time as his hips meet yours.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you come undone around his cock. the orgasm left your ears slightly ringing, and your poor cl!t swollen under his touch.

the aftershocks of your orgasm almost send iwaizumi over the edge, but he holds himself together wanting to properly fuck you silly.

not waiting for you to come down from your high, iwaizumi wraps his hand around your throat effectively cutting off the blood flow to your head.

he starts off with a brutal pace, not showing any mercy to your sensitive c!nt. you feel the tip of his cock nudging your cervix, bringing you the mix of pain and pleasure that you can’t get enough of.

“right there!” you almost scream out, not recognizing your own voice. he growls, pistoning his hips into the one spot that has your eyes crossing and c!nt drooling non stop.

his hand squeezes your throat a little tighter, making you lightheaded. you start babbling nonsense that even you couldn’t understand, but iwaizumi feels satisfied with how fucked out you’ve become.

“aw, look at that, the poor little baby can’t even speak properly,” he mocks, pounding his hips a little harder into you.

“have i fucked you that silly? you have that dumb fucked out look on your face.” he lets go of your throat and chuckles as you desperately gasp for air. he feels your c!nt fluttering again, knowing you’re close to your second orgasm of the night.

“who’s my little slut? say it for me baby,” he says as you moan out, reaching a hand down between your legs and touching your needy cl!t.

“i-i’m your little slut.” you yell, squeezing around him unbearably tight feeling your high coming faster as the seconds pass.

“good girl, such a good little girl for me. now come for me.” he growls, feeling his own high coming too.

you finally feel the coil in your abdomen snap, letting your orgasm wrack through your body. the hand on your clit is still rubbing furiously, desperately trying to ride out the high. iwaizumi stills inside you, watching your juices gush out of you and onto the sheets was enough for him to cum inside of you.

you both come down from your highs. you, a fucked out mess, and iwaizumi still incredibly hard from watching as his cum mixed with yours flowed out after slipping his cock out.

you both knew the night was far from over.

© all works belong to corpseblouse 2021, do not repost or modify.

[marjansmarwani]

we won the cosmic lottery

2.1k || ao3

When Mya convinces Carlos to try speed dating on what would otherwise be a lonely Valentine’s Day, he’s pretty sure it’s going to be a disaster. Until a man who manages to light up his world with one look slides into the seat before him, that is. Suddenly he’s feeling a lot more optimistic.

Or, Tarlos Alternate First Meeting: Speed Dating Edition

I wrote fluff again and I am probably more surprised than you are. 

But I found this prompt from @madamewriterofwrongs in my inbox from several months ago and figured why not write a Valentine’s Day fic and try to stretch those fluff muscles again. Beta’d by @officereyes 💕 

-----------

As bad ideas went, Carlos was pretty sure this was one. 

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.” 

“What, you had other hot plans for Valentine’s Day?” Mya asked him, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him over her drink. 

“No,” Carlos admitted, “but that doesn’t mean this was the correct alternative.” 

“Why not? You’ll waste an hour of your life, talk to some people, come out with some good stories if nothing else. I think it sounds like the perfect alternative to spending the night home alone with Netflix.” 

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he told her, tipping his glass to her before taking another drink.

“I have tried it Carlos, far too many times. You have too - that’s why we’re here.” 

“To get a look at Austin’s future serial killers?” 

Mya rolled her eyes at him before lightly smacking his arm with her clutch, “No, Officer Buzzkill. We’re here for a chance to maybe meet Mr. or Ms. Right.” 

Carlos twisted on his stool to survey the crowd gathered in the reserved section of the bar. He typically didn’t like to make assumptions without at least trying to get to know someone first, but he could honestly say that none of the men in the crowd even gave him the slightest glimmer of hope for the evening. He should have stayed home. 

He turned back to Mya with a dubious expression and she rolled her eyes again, “Lighten up Carlos, at the very least it can’t hurt.”

Carlos cast a glance back to one guy who was leering at him from the other side of the room and grimaced, “I’m not too sure about that.” 

His partner opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by someone grabbing a microphone and calling the crowd to attention. 

“Good evening lonely hearts!” the host said once the din of the crowd had died down. Carlos shot Mya a look but she ignored him. 

“We’re going to get started here in a few minutes,” the host continued, “but before we start moving I just wanted to go over the specifics. Upon checking in you were given a bracelet. These are to help with the logistics. If you received a red bracelet you will be taking a seat at any of the open tables. If you got a pink one you will be rotating between the tables.”

Carlos glanced down at his wrist to see a red bracelet sitting there. Mya held up her own wrist to show another red one, “Looks like we both get to have people come to us tonight.” 

Carlos chuckled at her before turning his attention back to the host, who was still explaining the rules. 

“When the bell dings, you will rotate to the table to your right. You will have 3 minutes with each potential suitor and when the bell rings, you will move to the next one. Make sure that you write down their number and check yes or no before you part on the card provided - that’s how we will be pairing you! At the end of the evening we will be comparing all the lists and you will receive a list of the names and contact info of any suitors you mutually matched with to the email provided. After that, the ball is in your court! So make sure you make the most of these three minutes; it could be the time you find your soulmate!” 

The room filled with polite clapping and Carlos turned again to Mya, “You can’t be serious.” 

“Lighten up Reyes,” she said with a wink, “you wouldn’t want to scare your potential soulmate away.” 

“Fine, I’ll ‘lighten up’. But if one of these creeps murders me to make a skin suit, I’m holding you personally responsible.” 

“I don’t believe in ghosts so your threats have no effect on me.” 

There were several more things he wanted to say to his partner, but he was interrupted by the sound of the host telling them all to head to their respective areas. As they went to stand up, Mya reached out to touch his arm, “it’s going to be fine Carlos, really. You’ve got this; try to have some fun for once.” 

Her tone and expression were much more gentle than before and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax, “Thanks Mya,” he replied with a grateful smile. “Now go find Ms. Right.” 

She matched his smile and with a wave, she was gone. Carlos took another steady breath and headed to the guy’s section of the room, taking a seat at one of the tables. He pulled the card out of his jacket pocket and picked up one of the pencils waiting on the table, twirling it through his fingers anxiously. And when the first contender of the night slid into the seat before him he forced on a warm smile and held out his hand in greeting. Mya was right, he had this. 

--------

7 dates later he was less sure he had this. 

They hadn’t all been creeps, per se (though numbers 2 and 6 definitely had been) but they also hadn’t done anything to elicit any kind of spark in Carlos. They had been nice enough and reasonably good looking, but Carlos had decided a long time ago that good enough wasn’t worth the effort. If he was going to try and make a go of something with someone, they had to be someone who made him feel something. It had to be worth the risk. 

He was contemplating his abysmal luck when the next guy slid into the chair across from him. Carlos looked up and all coherent thoughts fled his head. This guy was... gorgeous was the only word Carlos could come up with that did him justice. Everything about him was perfect and Carlos couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

He eventually noticed the extended hand in what he sincerely hoped was a normal amount of time and took it, still studying him as he blurted out the first thought that came to mind: “I didn’t see you here before.” 

He definitely hadn’t been here when things were starting, Carlos would have noticed him in a crowd, he was absolutely sure about that. The other man smiled sheepishly, “yeah, I got here a bit late. I was trying to convince myself to actually come. My friends had to practically push me in the door.” 

Carlos chuckled, “My friend had to pretty much drag me here with her. Are your friends here?” 

“They’re at a bar down the street for ‘moral support’,” he responded with an eye roll, but a fond expression. 

“That’s so helpful.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

They both laughed again before Carlos suddenly realized they had yet to even exchange names, “I’m Carlos, by the way.” 

“TK, nice to meet you.” 

“That’s an interesting name. Does it stand for something?” 

TK grinned at him coyly, “It does, but that’s at least a level 4 backstory, and we’re barely at level one.” 

Carlos grinned back, feeling the quip come easily despite the butterflies definitely fluttering in his stomach, “Well, we’ve got some time to work on that. Personally though I recommend we skip over levels 1 and 2, those are mundane at best.” 

TK’s green eyes lit up as he laughed. The sound sent a shock through Carlos’s entire body and in that moment, Carlos decided he had been wrong. He owed Mya an apology: this had been an excellent idea after all. 

-----

His three minutes with TK had not been nearly long enough. When the bell had dinged he had nearly jumped out of his skin. He had been so absorbed in their conversation he hadn't noticed the passage of time. It felt like they had been talking all night, but also as if they had barely begun to talk at all. 

TK gave him an apologetic smile as he stood from his chair, “I guess that’s my cue. It was really nice talking to you though, Carlos.”

“Yeah, you too,” he responded. He hesitated for a moment as he studied the other man. In only three minutes he had felt more of a connection with TK than he had with people he had dated for weeks. Maybe it was that they were both first responders, maybe it was something else, but he wasn’t ready to let this go. So many things were mysteries, but Carlos knew one thing for sure: if he let TK walk away from him tonight, he might just end up regretting it for the rest of his life. 

“Would you maybe like to catch up when we’re done here? Maybe get a drink, talk some more?” 

TK paused mid-stride, raising an eyebrow, “You still have two more dates left, how do you know you won’t want to spend the evening with them instead?” 

“Call it intuition.” 

He could call it intuition or blind hope or desperation if he wanted, Carlos really didn’t care. He just knew in his gut that it was right, that TK was someone he needed to get to know more. TK was still considering him, and Carlos anxiously awaited his verdict. This was so far outside of his comfort zone and he was pretty sure that if TK turned him down he was going to head back to his condo tonight and not leave for at least two days, too buried in embarrassment and shame to face the outside world. But this felt worth the risk; he just hoped he hadn’t read these feelings wrong. 

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime passing in the moment of a breath, TK smiled. “I’d like that,” he said, “I guess bachelors 9 and 10 are out of luck for both of us then.” 

“Try to let them down easy.” 

TK laughed again, squeezing his shoulder as he walked away, “As long as you promise to do the same—getting turned down by you would be a tough pill to swallow, Carlos. Try to break their hearts gently.”  

-------

Carlos was still feeling the euphoria of TK’s smile 10 minutes later when a figure slid into the seat next to him at the bar. He turned eagerly, ready to see TK’s eyes again and felt disappointment, followed by instant guilt, when it wasn’t TK but Mya occupying the seat next to him. 

“Well that was a waste of time,” she declared as she slumped forward onto the bar, “you were right. I shouldn’t have dragged you here, I’m sorry. Wanna go get tacos at that truck you love to drown our sorrows?” 

“Actually,” Carlos began, but their conversation was interrupted by the sound of someone calling his same from behind them. They turned in tandem and Carlos felt his heart beat just a little faster at the sight of TK, who was looking between him and Mya. 

“Hey Carlos, I just wanted to see if you were ready for that drink yet. If you’re not we can...” 

Mya interrupted before TK could finish his sentence, “I was just leaving, actually. I’m Mya, by the way—Carlos’s partner and friend.” 

TK turned his gorgeous smile on her and held out a hand, “TK Strand, nice to meet you.” 

“TK’s a firefighter,” Carlos told Mya, biting back a smile as she raised an eyebrow and TK nodded, “I’m with the 126.”

“Well, TK Strand with the 126, take good care of my partner here. He’s pretty special.” 

“I’ve already gotten that feeling,” TK agreed, giving Carlos another grin that he felt straight through to his soul. 

Mya smirked as she stood from her seat, looking between them as she pulled out her keys, “I’d say have a good rest of the night, but I think that’s already a given. I’ll see you on Monday Carlos, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“And that would be what, exactly?” 

Mya shrugged as she started to walk away, “I’m sure I’ll think of something.” 

“Text me when you get home!” he called after her. 

“Yes mom!” she called back as she reached the door. Before she opened it to head out into the Austin night she turned one more time and shot him a smile and a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes fondly, but nodded. Then she was gone and he turned all of his attention to the man beside him. He was grinning too and Carlos was starting to get the feeling that he might never get used to the things that smile did to him.  

TK slid into Mya’s abandoned seat and leaned closer to him, “So where do we start?” 

Carlos smiled back and waved down the bartender to get drinks for them. He wasn’t sure where to begin, but he had a feeling wherever it was would be the beginning of something great. He turned and caught TK’s eyes again, savoring the warmth that emanated from them. 

Tonight may have started out feeling like a mistake, but he was starting to think it may have actually been more like fate. 

[happyandticklish]

Behave

Notes: For the anon request. The request was slightly vague, so I tried to improvise a little. I hope you like the result! ^^

Summary: Shizuo has a habit of picking Izaya up whenever he tries to stir up trouble, to mischievous results. 

Causing general mayhem and disaster was one of Izaya’s favorite activities, and Ikebukuro was one of his favorite cities to do so in. The chance of bumping into some kind of natural disaster was almost inevitable, and on the rare occasion of peace among the streets, Izaya was always willing to stir something up himself. Sometimes this something could be the beginnings of a gang war. And sometimes it was merely messing with small children.

Life was full of surprises that way.

“And just what do we have here?” Izaya inquired, folding his hands in front of himself as he stopped before a group of children gathered on the park asphalt. There were three of them, a young girl with a box of chalk clutched protectively to her chest, and two boys, who had previously been drawing out an outline for hop-scotch, who both looked to be about a year or so older than her.

The first boy glanced up at his comment, shooting him a suspicious glance. “Playing a game,” he answered stiffly, clearly waiting for the man to say anything in the negative about it.

“So I can see,” Izaya agreed, surveying the scene before them. “Hop-scotch… I remember playing that game as a kid. How do the rules work again?”

“Well—” the girl started hesitantly, but before she could say anything more, Izaya had begun hopping from one foot to the next over the squares provided. He wobbled a bit as he went, all with an assured smile. For his finale, he jumped forward with both feet, landing on the discarded pieces of chalk and cracking two of them easily.

“Hey!” the girl cried, eyes widening. “I just got those!”

“Oh!” Izaya clucked his tongue, placing his hands on his hips as he surveyed his work. “Well that will never do. I guess we’ll just have to break the other ones to match. Would you terribly mind handing over that box?”

The girl hid the box quickly behind her back, which wasn’t the smartest of defensive moves but it was all she had. The second boy appeared to be taking in the scene cautiously, clearly not wanting to get himself involved. The first one however, took an angry step forward, glaring up at him.

“Leave her alone!” he protested, portraying a level of bravado he didn’t feel. “Or I’ll—I’ll—”

“You’ll… what?” Izaya inquired, leaning down to face him with a devastating smirk. “No, continue, I’m truly curious—what exactly could you do?”

The boy stammered over his words, trying to think of any kind of witty reply but coming up blank.

“Leave the kid alone.”

Izaya sprang up, whirling around at the sound of the telltale voice. “Shizu-chan~! So nice of you to drop by. Decided to enjoy the spring day as well?”

One hand shoved carelessly in his pocket, Shizuo Heiwajima stood bathed in the gentle lamplight of the sun, surveying the scene casually. In place of his usual angry scowl, however, there was a bored, almost dismissive look on his face, as though dealing with Izaya’s shit simply wasn’t worth his time. Instead of answering, he stalked over to the other with quick, forceful steps, until they were inches away.

Izaya staggered back a little, taken by surprise by the direct approach. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could Shizuo had leaned down, grabbing Izaya around the waist, and hauled him over his shoulder. Izaya squawked in an undignified manner, gripping onto the back of Shizuo’s shirt for support.

Shizuo kicked the broken pieces of chalk back over to the children with a grunted, “here”, before turning around and heading off in the opposite direction, Izaya in tow.

By this point a burning crimson had begun to overtake Izaya’s features, and he could see the faces of the children from his vantage point, all of whom seemed delighted to see him in the embarrassing position. “You know, you can’t simply pick me up whenever you feel like it,” he huffed, reaching back in an attempt to swat at the back of the other’s head.

“Oh?” Shizuo easily avoided him as Izaya struggled to maneuver his arm in the right position. “And what exactly are you going to do about it?” he asked, parroting Izaya’s earlier words.

Izaya narrowed his eyes. He kicked one of his legs out, aiming to get a direct hit at his stomach. Unfortunately, legs do not generally go in that direction and he primarily ending up flailing around a lot and sometimes hitting the other’s arm in the process. This was not troublesome all on its own (Shizuo had definitely endured far worse from the flea), but it did prompt an idea. The next time one of Izaya’s legs came too near his face, he grabbed it with his other hand, gripping his fingers into the denim protecting the backs of his thighs.

Izaya let out a strangled noise, managing to somehow disguise it as a cough at the last moment. Shizuo’s hand remained on his thigh, his fingers gently tapping where they curled around his leg. Izaya’s breath caught in his throat as he realized suddenly how very, very fucked he was.

“S-Shizuo,” he said, trying as desperately as he could to keep his growing panic out of his voice. “I really think you should let me down now.”

“What’s wrong?” Shizuo asked calmly, his fingers tapping out a rhythm of doom against his jeans, each and every one causing Izaya to twitch against his will. “You sound suddenly concerned. Is something bothering you?”

“Shizuo, not again,” Izaya gritted out. Memories were flooding back to him of a week ago, causing butterflies to excite uninvited in his stomach. “If you think you can simply pick me up like a common stray and t—” he broke off, pressing his lips together into a firm, irritated line.

“And what?” Shizuo questioned, tossing a teasing glance back at him. Amusement danced in his eyes, and never had Izaya wished to punch him more than in that moment. “What exactly is it that I can’t do?”

“I believe you know perfectly well what I mean,” Izaya replied with a sickeningly pleasant smile. “After all, seeing as it has for some reason become one of your favorite activities to do to me, I dearly hope you know what it is.”

“And I would hope you know what it is, considering you appear to love it so much,” Shizuo shot back, pinching the back of his thigh suddenly.

“I w—shit!” Izaya lurched forward, his body’s instinctual response to save himself from the sensation. His arms flailed wildly, searching for a handhold, and eventually clinging onto the back of Shizuo’s shirt. Shizuo stiffened, trying to ignore the strangely pleasant shudder that ran down his spine as Izaya’s fingers brushed his back. He shook it off, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

Shizuo outlined a path of small pinches down the back of Izaya’s thigh, making the man jerk and squirm with each one, though he managed to stifle any noises this time. Once he had gotten Izaya properly ramped up, he removed his hand entirely, giving the other a momentary reprieve.

Izaya exhaled slowly, glad for the break. After a moment of nothing happening however, he threw a confused glance back at the other. “Are you done t—ahAHAHAHA, ohohoho shIHIHIHIHihihit!”

Izaya burst into wild, uncontrolled laughter as Shizuo suddenly dug his fingers into his thigh, pressing into just the right pressure points to make the other go positively mad. His hand came back instinctively to try to rip Shizuo’s hand away from the spot, but his current position prevented him from doing so. The sudden, intensive tickling caused a hysteria that weakened Izaya instantly, his eyes crinkling up into a series of wild giggles and shrieks, a euphoria he didn’t often allow himself to feel lighting up in his chest. His legs kicked out with reckless abandon, but nothing he attempted saved himself from the relentless attack.

Just as suddenly as he had initiated it, Shizuo stopped, allowing his hand to merely rest on the other’s leg. Izaya wheezed helplessly, burying his face in the back of the other’s shirt. His skin tingled with phantoms of the earlier attack.

“I’m sorry, you were going to say something?” Shizuo asked innocently.

Izaya weakly lifted his head, shooting back a venomous glare. “You utter ahahAHAHASSHOLE, nohohoho, nOHOHOT AHAHAhagain!”

Izaya fell back into hysterics as Shizuo once again started up with his thighs. It was a testament to Shizuo’s skill that he was able to keep a firm hold on Izaya whilst torturing him, all the while continuing to stroll through the streets as though nothing was happening. By this point, people had started to stare, dumbfounded by the sight of a grown man thrashing and howling with laughter, hoisted like a misbehaving child over another man’s shoulder.

“S-Shihihihizuo!” Izaya squawked, pounding his fist against the other’s back. “StahAHAHAP IHIHIHIT!”

“Sure,” Shizuo agreed, smirking as his fingers found a particularly unfortunate spot that had Izaya screeching. “Just say, ‘Shizuo is superior to me in every way’. You can do that, can’t you?”

“F-FuhuhUHUHUCK YOHOhohou!”

Shizuo clucked his tongue in disappointment. “I’m afraid that’s not it. Want to try again?”

Izaya tried. He really did. He used every ounce of self-control he had to try to either bear the sensations wracking his body or to somehow escape from Shizuo’s hold. But the embarrassing position combined with the results of a death spot being targeted in such an effective manner eventually did him in and he cracked.

“OhOHOHOKAY! OHOHohohohokay!” Izaya cried, frantic giggles interspersing his words. “S-Shihihizuo ihihis—ahAHAHAha, nohohoho wahahait—Shihihizuo—gahAHAHA! Gihihive mehehehe ahahahaha seHEHEHEHehecond!”

Shizuo reluctantly complied, momentarily stilling his hand. Izaya panted heavily, attempting to get any amount of air back. Once he’d finally regained enough breath to speak any semblance of coherent words, he raised his head and grinned back at the other. “Shizuo is… a fool for thinking I’d ever say anything inherently false as that. Sorry, try again next time.”

Shizuo’s confident smirk quickly transformed into an irritated scowl. “You little—” Instantly there were hands at his thighs again, only this time he attacked the other one which had thus far received no attention from their little game. Izaya let out an honest-to-god squeak, unprepared for the switch. He pulled at Shizuo’s shirt, needing a handhold as he faced the unbearable sensations. As he did so, however, he noticed the way his tugging had ridden Shizuo’s shirt up slightly, revealing the bare skin of his lower back and hips.

Izaya was struck with a sudden idea.

Shizuo flinched as he felt two hands grab onto his hips, fingers curling into the skin in a manner that was unmistakably ticklish. His hand faltered on Izaya’s thigh as his lips tugged into a reluctant grin, a couple growled giggles escaping him.

“I-Izaya,” he threatened, still holding onto Izaya but doing little else besides that. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“Why?” Izaya teased, scratching his hips once more and feeling the man shudder beneath him. “Feeling a bit nervous now that the situations have reversed?”

“I’ll drop you,” Shizuo threatened.

“I’m not worried,” Izaya dismissed, clearly having fun with the sudden power dynamic. “Haven’t you heard? Cats always land on their feet.”

“Mind if I test that theory?”

“Now, now, no need to be grumpy.” Izaya squeezed his hips again and Shizuo choked on a stifled giggle. “I get it. You can dish it out, but you can’t take it. It’s fine, really. I’ll just be using it to my advantage now, is all.”

“L-Like hell you are!” Shizuo stammered, attempting to pull Izaya off his shoulders. Izaya yelped, grabbing onto Shizuo’s hips for support, causing the man to stumble forwards, releasing him in one go. With a startled cry, Izaya tumbled off his shoulders, and Shizuo jerked around, just managing to catch him by the arm as he hit the ground. It wasn’t a complete save (and Izaya would be complaining about being sore for days after), but it did prevent him from slamming into the concrete.

Izaya stared up at Shizuo, panting a little, his gaze focused on the place where Shizuo still gripped his arm. With a cough, Shizuo quickly released him, straightening up. “Are you…” he started slowly, rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly. “Okay?”

Izaya blinked, at a momentary loss for what to say, before his usual smirk returned to him. “Of course I’m okay, dear Shizu-chan. More than okay, at that.” He clambered to his feet, dusting off his jeans and trying not to focus on how his tailbone ached from slamming into the ground. “Because now I know your weakness, locked away in my brain for all eternity. But don’t worry—I’ll only use it against you as often as you’ve used mine against me. Now if you don’t mind, I really have some important business to be attending to, and must take my leave. Farewell, my dear brute.”

He saluted the other mockingly, whirling on his heel and quickly walking away. Shizuo’s frown of confusion as he watched him go quickly transformed into one of irritation. “You bastard, get back here!” he exclaimed, taking chase after him. “Who said you get to have the last word, huh?”

Izaya laughed merrily as he sprinted ahead, the two quickly disappearing into the chaos of the city. No matter what happened, nothing ever really changed between the two. One info broker, one bodyguard, locked together in continuous battle.

And as Izaya rounded the next corner sharply, his smirk turning into something almost giddy from the chase, he found he didn’t really mind if it meant he could hold the beast’s attention for even a moment longer.

[moonbeamsung]

Bad Dracula

I have no intention of scaring you, baby~

member: jaemin

au: vampire!jaemin x gn!reader, supernatural au

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff, a little angst, slightly suggestive

warnings: mentions of blood, kissing, implied strict parenting

recommended song: bad dracula by red velvet

author’s note: Based on the song above. This was so much fun to write and I thought it fit well with the time of year, so enjoy!

The dance floor in the large ballroom pulses with energy and vibrations from the DJ booth at the far end of it. It’s packed, so much so that all the people, all the shuffling pairs of shoes, threaten to overflow from the carefully manicured tiles on the ground and into the remainder of the space. This poses a problem considering there isn’t much, due to the dozens upon dozens of fancily decorated round tables scattered throughout the brightly lit chamber, some empty as their occupants sway to the beat of the music and others full with those still finishing their exquisitely prepared meals.

Dancing close to the edge of the massive crowd, you catch sight of the moon’s reflection on the polished floor, oddly clear. A strange feeling starts to overtake you as you continue to gaze at it, physically compelling you to raise your eyes. When you do, there’s a devilishly handsome stranger you’ve never seen before leaning against the wall, directly across from you. The moonlight spilling in through the glass casts a haunting shadow on his chiseled features, but your heart stops when the sliver of a fang peeks out from between his lips, gleaming a blinding white.

How no one else notices him, you’re not sure. What you do know, however, is that he’s definitely bad news.

...Right?

Your gut pinches at the thought, the silent signal begging you to correct your instant judgement based solely on his appearance. How could you possibly be wrong, though? He’s a vampire, for goodness’ sake! You’ve been lectured and warned enough times to remember that they’re always up to no good.

The inner dilemma going on in your mind causes you to stare blankly, zoned out and unaware that your focus is drilling into the boy. Amused, he waits for you to realize this.

Eyes blown wide with surprise, you whirl around to weave in and out of the throng of people, making your way to the center of the crowd in a pathetic attempt to undo what just happened. Attention trained on the ground, a pair of shiny black dress shoes come into your line of sight.

There’s that feeling again. You don’t want to, you fight the urge this time, but trying to resist the supernatural pull makes your head ache. Bracing yourself, you unwillingly lift your eyes again, tracing the length of his figure from the hem of his dress pants all the way up to the lapel of his suit. The wine-colored ensemble seems fitting, considering the craving vampires instinctively harbor for a similarly colored substance.

His looks are even more striking up close. The allure he possesses is something otherworldly, and he has to repeat himself for you to realize he’s speaking to you. “My name is Jaemin, and you are...?” He questions, the lilt of his voice silky and seductive. Stammering a somewhat coherent response, you freeze when his cold fingers grasp your wrist, lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your trembling knuckles.

“Shall we dance?” It’s a statement, not a request, and not wanting to cause a scene, you make no attempts to protest. You get lost in the way his arms feel wrapped around you, every so often being twirled by the graceful movements of his hand.

Your eyes lock with his and they put you in an inescapable trance, casting a spell on your mind until the moment that he breaks the contact, glancing almost worriedly at something over your shoulder. He returns his gaze to yours as quickly as he removed it, and the enrapturing haze settles in around you once more.

For the final minute of your dance, he brings you closer than you’ve ever been to him before, head resting firmly against his chest. A triumphant feeling of rebellion bubbles up inside of you knowing that you’d be in big trouble if your parents could see you right now, in the arms of an enchanting vampire. The mere act of associating with one would be enough for them to explode with fury, so going even further than that would surely elicit a wrath of pure, unadulterated rage.

The song ends, its slow tempo coming to a stop before being replaced by a much peppier tune.

Most of your fright forgotten for the time being, you’re more curious than anything else when he begins to drag you away from the center of the ballroom, pulling you with urgency and a force that completely contrasts with the gentleness of his touches as you danced together. Stepping out from the crowd, he leads you around to the other side of the wide marble staircase, ducking to stand behind a pristine white column that extends all the way up to the heightened ceiling. It dawns on you now that he could actually be dangerous, and all the fear comes flooding back to you.

Jaemin sees it too, the way your pupils dilate to indicate your terror of the situation you’ve gotten yourself into, your terror of him. You’re about to cry out when he stops you by covering your mouth with his hand, the low temperature of his skin startling you even more, and you wince.

“Sorry, sorry!” He whispers hastily, panicked. You take notice of the instant change in his demeanor but it does nothing to calm you down. “It’s alright, don’t freak out, okay?”

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he breathes, finally providing you with some sort of relief. You relax a little under his hold, still cautious but deciding to give him a chance. Slowly, he removes his palm from your lips, allowing you to speak.

“What do you want with me, then?”

Glancing around with that same look of anxiousness on his face, he leans in, murmuring into your ear with every word.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, but I’m a vampire. I come from a whole family of them. My parents brought me here tonight to... uh, well, you’ve heard the stories. They want me to find someone with the best blood to drink.”

Come to think of it, you do recall seeing a carriage parked outside, black as night and delicately carved like it came from the darkest depths of the underworld. Must’ve been his, you realize.

“And that’s me because...?” You interrupt his explanation, causing him to wave a hand in the air, exasperated.

“Let me finish, okay? The thing is, vampires drink blood but it’s not the only thing we need to survive. In fact, we don’t even need it. Over time we’ve found ways to get the same nutrients in other ways and from other things. Some of us still do it for tradition’s sake. And my family is all about preserving history.”

Inhaling sharply, he continues. “But I... I can’t do it. Not only does it feel morally wrong, but I get sick just thinking about it. On nights like this, I just have to find a way to lie about finding some.”

“That’s,” he leans back to point a finger at you, “where you come in, angel. We just have to make it look like I took some of your blood, and that will be enough to satisfy my parents for a while.”

Too stunned to speak, you gape at Jaemin, leaving him waiting for your answer, wondering whether you’ll commit or not.

“Wow.”

“I understand if you don’t want to help, I can always find someone—”

“You are nothing like who I thought you were.”

Jaemin’s pale skin flushes with a color you’re not sure even exists before he beams at you. A few minutes ago, you would never have guessed the mysterious man leaning against the wall could smile this brightly. “Not all of us are bloodthirsty monsters.”

“I’m sorry I was afraid of you,” you tell him, looking down at the floor with a guilty expression.

“It’s not your fault, you had every right to be.”

“...Hold on, what was all that out there?” You accuse, brows raised in slight suspicion and a hip tilted to the side as you await an explanation.

“What do you mean, ‘all that?’”

“I mean the dance! I mean the way you introduced yourself, the way you spoke, everything... You were so cold, so intimidating. But you’re acting so different now.”

“All to put on a show for my parents, sweetheart.”

Blushing like mad, you shake your head as you remember the reason why you’re back here with him in the first place. “I’ll do it,” you say, heart fluttering at the way his eyes light up with gratitude.

��Really? You will? Thank you! Thank you so much...” he trails off, and you find the excitement in his voice adorable.

“So, how do we do this?” You ponder for a moment, tapping your shoe against the floor before an idea comes to you. “You don’t mind ketchup, do you?”

Jaemin knows what you’re getting at, nodding. “I don’t have a problem with it, so that should work fine.”

“But... how close are they going to look? Would a bite mark make it more realistic?”

Considering your words, Jaemin’s tongue darts out to lick at one of his sharp fangs, the action drawing your gaze down to them.

“You’re probably right...”

Closing your eyes and straightening your posture, you tilt your head to one side, exposing your neck. “Go ahead, I don’t mind.”

Here goes nothing, Jaemin thinks to himself. Only he doesn’t aim for your neck.

When you feel his lips on yours you’re startled to say the least, but just like when he danced with you, you don’t pull away. The kiss is a delicious secret, only for the two of you to know about and no one else. Instead of ice his hands are like fire on your skin, and the sleeves of his satin suit jacket feel heavenly against your arms as they cling to his shoulders for dear life. It’s so intense, so heated and passionate a kiss that you feel yourself back up against the pillar you’ve been hiding behind all this time.

Not wanting anyone to get suspicious about what’s taking so long, Jaemin reluctantly separates his lips from yours and drags them across your skin, down past your jaw to halt at your neck. The magic bestowed upon all vampires gives him the power to temporarily restrict the ability of his fangs to take blood, rendering them harmless. Once he’s done this, he sinks them into the spot above your collarbone just far enough to leave an impression, eliciting a small whine from your lips but nothing more.

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” you pant, taking heavy breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth while you wait to regain the strength you lost in the moment. It’s funny, you think. He didn’t take any of your blood, so why do you feel so dizzy?

Jaemin chuckles, brushing your hair out of your face since it had become slightly tousled during the kiss. His eyes widen in sudden realization and he snaps his fingers, “The ketchup!”

“Right!” You exclaim, hurriedly running over to the nearest deserted table and grabbing a single packet.

Tearing the corner, you squeeze a small dot of the condiment onto your finger before smearing it onto the skin below his lips, making it look as if it’s dripping from the edge of his mouth. Jaemin takes it from you and does the same, the red smudge complimenting the bite mark he left on your neck quite nicely, if he says so himself.

Leading you back around the staircase, Jaemin shares a second dance with you in the middle of the ballroom, and this time you’re both more comfortable with each other. From across the room, his parents’ enhanced senses of sight allow them to see your stained skin, humming in approval at their son’s apparent obedience.

“Will I see you again?” You ask in a soft voice, wavering at the possibility of losing the new friend, and maybe something more, you’ve made tonight.

“I don’t know, my dear,” Jaemin admits. “But I’ll try.”

Smiling lovingly up at him, you sigh, the three words you so desperately want to utter on the very tip of your tongue, but you feel it’s a little too soon. One day, you tell yourself.

Hidden amongst the crowd, he ducks down a little to steal a final kiss before a tall figure that’s probably his mother whisks him away and into the distance. You exchange longing glances before he’s forced to turn around, walking completely out of sight.

Taking long strides at an inhuman pace between both of his parents, Jaemin grins to himself, thinking of you and how amazing you looked tonight in that elegant outfit of yours.

From beside him, his father sniffs the air, pale nose wrinkling in distaste.

“Is that ketchup?!”

[wlntrsldler]

unrequited (draco malfoy/ cedric diggory series)

PROMPT: You and Cedric grew up together. After the tragedy of the Triwizard Tournament, you’re left feeling empty without your best friend. Draco Malfoy steps into the picture. Will the feelings be reciprocated? Or will it be unrequited?

WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, angst, fluff, sadness???

PAIRING: draco malfoy x reader and cedric diggory x reader; hufflepuff reader

WC: 2.8K+

UNREQUITED MASTERLIST

-

PART 7

Everyone around the table discussed their holiday plans. You managed to slip out of the Hufflepuff table and you were sitting comfortably with the Gryffindors. Hermione and Harry gushed about missing Mrs. Weasley and her positive energy. They talked about last Christmas and how festive the Burrow was. 

“It’s more festive than Hogwarts, if you could believe that!” Fred would exclaim every year. You knew it was probably true. You felt like the ambience of the Weasley home made the holidays feel even better than the expensive decorations of Hogwarts. That’s what the holidays are about, anyway: family, celebration, comfort. 

This year was a bit different. Usually you’d spend your holidays with Cedric and his father. You’d wake up on Christmas day with Cedric silently reading at the foot of your bed- he always woke up at the first sign of light during the holidays. He’d have two mugs of hot chocolate, topped with crushed candy canes and whipped cream. He’d never touch his, no matter how tempted he was to do so, just so he could take his first sip with you. You’d exchange presents in your room, savoring your alone time before Mr. Diggory would barge into your room with Christmas pancakes and you three would happily skip downstairs where you celebrated for the day. Then, when the snow fell, you’d make them watch Muggle holiday movies and Cedric would question exactly why Muggles always made their lives more difficult than needed. 

But now you don’t have Cedric and it would be awkward to spend it with his father. It wasn’t the same. You decided to stay in school for the holidays, not really knowing where else to go. 

Fred waved his hands in front of your face, “Helloooo, Y/N?”

“Yes, Fred?” 

“We asked what you’re doing for the holidays.” Hermione asked, taking a sip of her drink. 

You shrugged, picking at the food on your plate, “I’m staying here for the holidays. I usually spend it with the Diggory’s but well, y’know..”

“Nonsense! You can spend it with us!” George grinned.

“Mother and father wouldn’t mind.” Fred added on. 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” You blushed, a sheepish look on your face. 

“Hermione and Harry intrude every year.” Ron chuckled, wincing in pain when Hermione hit his arm. “If you’d let me finish, Merlin, Hermione. You’ve got a heavy hand. Anyway, we love their intrusion every year. You should come.” 

“Are you sure?” You asked, making sure that they weren’t just saying it out of pity. 

“Well, of course!” Fred said. “There’s nothing like a Weasley Christmas.” 

You nodded, happy that you didn’t have to spend it alone. It would be a bit odd this year not having Cedric beside you. But things were changing and you knew you had to adapt. Things were never going to be the same. Things were different now. 

Speaking of different- things between you and Draco changed ever since the day you saw him with Myrtle. You two didn’t speak on it, but deep down you both knew something about each other that neither of you expected to learn. There’s this energy between you and Draco that you couldn’t put your finger on. Every time he walked past you and your friends, he’d offer a warm smile and a small wave of acknowledgement. He stopped teasing the Trio and even snickered at some of the twins’ jokes at times, but only when nobody but you was paying attention to him. He’d greet you when he sits behind you in Potions, not scared to ask you for help when he needs it. Sometimes you even catch him staring in the Great Hall. You’ve gotten used to his lingering eyes. 

That’s why it felt like there was something missing when you searched for the blond in the Great Hall during dinner and found him nowhere. Usually he’d be sitting beside Crabbe and Goyle, picking at his food and offering patient laughs at Crabbe’s jokes. Tonight, however, he was missing from his usual spot, his absence obviously taking a toll on the Slytherin table. You searched for him, twisting and turning your body to see if he decided to sit somewhere else for once. Draco was nowhere to be found. 

George finished his joke and the entire table roared in laughter, bringing you back to your present conversations. Ron had to clasp a hand over his mouth to stop him from spitting out his drink, finding his brothers’ jokes so hilarious. Hermione sat beside you, her head thrown back in laughter, directly parallel from Harry, who hid his face in the crease of his elbow. Fred sat across from you, eyebrows furrowing once he noticed that you weren’t present in the conversation. 

“You alright there, Y/N?” He whispered, trying not to cause attention. The rest of the group continued on, oblivious to your conversation. 

“I’m fine.” You lied, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Just tired.” 

You knew Fred didn’t buy it. He knew you too well but he nodded anyway and cleared his throat, “You should go up and rest, Y/N.”

You thanked him silently, knowing that the rest of the group heard it. You didn’t have to explain yourself to the rest of them now that Fred has your back. You said your goodbye’s and was met with farewells as you walked out of the Great Hall. You didn’t even know where you’re heading. Hell, you didn’t even know if Draco was still on school grounds. You didn’t have classes with him today. 

You turned the corner, seeing a few people scattered all over the place. None of them sported the blond hair that you’re searching for. You saw a few Slytherin robes tucked in the crevices of the castle, kissing noises echoing in the space. You grimaced and stayed away from them. 

“Are you looking for Draco?”

You turned your head like a deer caught in headlights. Your eyes fell on Luna, who sat on the floor with a book on her lap. Her eyes twinkled under the lights, her voice soft and pure. You replied, “Am I that obvious?” 

“No,” She reassured. “I’m just observant.” 

You blushed, unable to form a coherent sentence in response. “Yeah, uhm… have you seen him?”

“Yes I have. He went towards the Astronomy Tower after Charms.” She stood up, dusting off her robe as she pointed to the direction of the tower. “I haven’t seen him pass by since then.”

You nodded, not knowing what to say back. “Alright. Well, thank you, Luna.”

You took a few steps towards the direction of the Tower, mentally cursing yourself for staring at Draco so obviously. Luna called for you one more time before you disappeared from her vision. You turned and she smiled at you, “Don’t wait too long this time around.” 

Her words rung in your head. What did she mean by that? The whole time to the tower, you pondered what her words meant. You were so focused on thought that you almost missed the entrance to the staircase, having to walk backwards to get to the right destination. You walked up, trying to be as quiet as possible, just in case there was a teacher there ready to get you in trouble. 

Once you reached the top, you felt a sense of relief wash over you when you saw the head of blond you’ve been searching for, leaning against the barricade, the same way he was the first time you saw him up here. There were tear stains on his cheeks, eyes bloodshot red. His lips were bright pink, quivering ever so slightly. You didn’t know if it was because of the cold or because of his emotions. Or maybe both. 

“Draco?” You called, emerging from the stairs. 

Draco faced you, eyes widening when he realized you found him. He quickly wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve, subconsciously tugging on it as he approached you towards the middle of the room. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“You weren’t there at dinner.” You stated simply. You watched him fidget with his robe, uncomfortable that you found him during one of his most vulnerable moments. “I got a little worried.” 

“I’m fine.” He dismissed, sniffling. He bit his bottom lip, walking back to where he first stood. “You’re like the fifth person to walk up here. I guess it’s not as secret as I thought.” 

You let out a chuckle, following his footsteps and planting yourself beside him. You watched him hold back tears, nostrils flaring to keep his tears at bay. “Are you okay, Draco?”

He looked at you, a lopsided smile making its way to his lips. His eyes, however, were screaming, begging for help. It was a miserable sight. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Out of habit, you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. He tensed under your touch, freezing as if your touch burned him. Draco looked at your hand on his body as if he’s never been touched like this before. You rubbed your thumb against his robe, watching as he relaxed under your touch. He let out a breath of relief, closing his eyes for a brief second. 

“It’s okay if you’re not okay.” 

“Okay.” 

A comfortable silence fell upon the both of you. You recalled your hand after a few moments, not missing the way he followed it, missing the comfort it provided him already. Draco stared off into the skyline, eyes counting the stars that were bright enough to see. He counted them like sheep to help him calm down. You stared at him, admiring his features.

Draco was really handsome, you knew that, but this was the first time you got to take a good look at him. The curve of his nose, his cupid’s bow, his eyes- beautiful in color but sorrowful in story- and his cheeks, blushed pink in it’s high points. His jawline was sharp but he didn’t look intimidating like this. He looked peaceful. It almost didn’t look like the Draco Malfoy everyone knew of. 

“You loved him, didn’t you?” He asked after a while of silence. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for you to answer. “Cedric, I mean. You loved him?”

You pursed your lips, not knowing where this conversation was going. “Yes.”

“Do you still love him?”

“Yes, I do.” You responded, not missing a beat. “I think a part of me always will.” 

“Hm.” 

“Why do you ask?” You wondered out loud, inching closer to him. 

“I was just curious.” Draco paused before continuing his sentence. “Did you ever tell him?”

“Not exactly,” You confessed, picking at your nails. “One of my biggest regrets, actually. But I like to think he knew that I did.” 

“I don’t think he knew.” 

“What makes you say that?” You inquired, truly curious as to why Draco would say that. As far as you knew, he didn’t know you or Cedric in that way. It was odd that he was speaking about it like he knew the story. You didn’t mind- it just took you by surprise.

“I think-” He paused again, rephrasing his sentence. “I know that if he knew how you felt, you two would’ve been together.” Draco bit his lip. “I don’t think anyone who’s in love with you who knew you felt the same way, would hide their affections. They would scream it from the top of their lungs.” 

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. Was that a compliment? You didn’t know. You couldn’t be too sure. The way he worded things was trivial. Although, maybe that was the point. Keep his mysterious side going, per se, rather than coming right out and saying what he is he wants to say, leaving you to guess his meaning. 

Draco cleared his throat, “Any holiday plans?” 

“I’m spending it with the Weasleys.” 

You half-expected him to grimace at the Weasley name, but he let his lips quirk up a bit. He looked down, shuffling his feet. Draco could only imagine how lively their household must be. He knew the Weasley’s were a neverending bloodline and they often brought over friends to celebrate the holidays with them. He was sure it was a clear contrast from the holidays at the Malfoy Manor- quiet, reserved, tense. Nothing like what the holidays should feel like. 

“That’s lovely.” 

You nudged him with your elbow, “And yourself?”

“I’m going home.” His voice sounded strained, as if the word “home” was painful to say. Then he chuckled bitterly, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “You never want to miss a holiday at Malfoy Manor.” 

You gulped, “I’m sorry, Draco.” 

Before he could reply, you were interrupted by the sounds of kisses and giggling. Two Ravenclaws made their way up the stairs, oblivious that you and Draco were already there. They giggled under each other’s touch, ties being undone, and sexual tension running high. 

“Bloody hell,” Draco cursed, annoyance in his voice. “They always come up here.”

You didn’t even think before you grabbed his hand. In surprise, you looked up at him and his face mirrored yours. His hands were cold, too cold, almost. He stared at your intertwined fingers, breath hitched in his throat. He could feel your heat radiating off of your hand. He’s never held anyone’s hand before. 

“Come,” You pulled him along, trying to ignore the tingling sensation. “I know a better place.” 

You let his hand go once you two were half-way down the stairs. When your back was facing him, he stared at his hand, unable to wipe the smile on his face. You held his hand. Nobody ever does that. You took a glance at him, blushing when you saw the goofy grin on his face as he stared at his hand. Draco never smiles. He has a beautiful smile. 

You led him to the secret passageway, looking around to make sure there was nobody around to see you. You instructed him to stay back as you opened it, as you’ve done a million times before. 

“Is this where you were going the night I caught you?” 

“Yeah,” You confessed, shutting the door behind you once he entered. “Me and Cedric used to come down through here when we just needed to get away.” 

“Where does it lead you?” 

“The middle of the meadows, a bit outside of the castle grounds.” You said, taking a right turn. You knew this place like the back of your hand. “It’s private. Peaceful.” 

The rest of the time, you two were quiet until you got to your destination. You sighed in content, plopping down on the field, a look of serenity etched on your face. He joined you, a few meters away, sitting criss-crossed. Draco watched you get comfortable, as if you’ve done this all your life. 

“I didn’t know there was a way here that’s different from the main road.” He said. “I thought I saw you here a few days ago but I figured it wasn’t you since I didn’t see you come down.” 

“You were here.” You mumbled, moving closer to him. “I thought I saw you. What were you doing out here?”

“My father needed to see me.” He looked down, clearing his throat to change the subject. “I didn’t know you knew Myrtle.” 

“I could say the same about you.”

“Yeah,” He chuckled. “I don’t usually tell people that.” 

“Of course, the Slytherin Prince has a reputation to uphold.” 

“You know it.” He joked but his tone told you something else. He sounded tired, almost as if he didn’t want to be that anymore. “I have a question.”

“Mhm?”

“Don’t hex me, alright?”

You froze a bit, knowing what question will come next, but you let him ask it anyway. “No promises.” 

“What house are you supposed to be in?” 

“I think you know.” 

“Why didn’t you want to be a Slytherin?”

You sighed, staring at the sky for a second before answering. “My father was a Slytherin. He came from a pure blood family but then he met my mother. She’s a Muggle and it caused problems when they fell in love. He was disowned from his family. He made me take my mother’s maiden name, fearing for my life. He made us hide. It was one of my first memories. They killed him and found my mother. I was left with the Diggory’s so I was safe the night she died. I lived with my mother’s sister in the Muggle world but spent my summers with Cedric so I stayed in touch with my Wizard side.”

“Why did they want him dead?”

“He didn’t want to serve the Dark Lord. He-”

“Stop talking.” Draco quickly cut you off, suddenly getting up from his spot. “Stop.” 

“What?”

“Don’t…” He breathed out, already making his way back to the passageway. “Don’t tell me that.”

“Draco?”

“Y/N.” He said sternly. “I said stop talking. The less I know the better.” 

You kept your mouth shut the rest of the night, the tension thick in the air.

-

TAGLIST IS OPEN! SEND AN ASK!

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[thisplace-ishaunted]

OKAY. how about. ricky overstimulating the fuck out of trans vin in the au 👀

LMAO that this was supposed to be 5 sentences because I sat down and out came a 1500 word notfic so here you go.

OKAY SO THIS TOOK ME A WEEK TO ANSWER IM SORRY

It’s after my second Trans!Vin fic for Kinktober, which, you know what happens there, and maybe some of y’all do, but not everyone does. So, just, use context clues and guess what happened.

Vin waits a solid 36 hours to initiate something with Rick bc he wants to wait for the bruises and hickies on his hips and thighs to actually get as dark as they’re gonna get. He’s going for maximum impact here. But of course, because it’s vin, it’s hard for him to wait that long because he is a horny mess and as soon as he finishes the shenanigans in aforementioned fic, he already wants to run to Ricky and be like “LOOK WHAT I DID BEHIND YOUR BACK WHY DON’T YOU FUCK ME UP FOR IT, HUH RICK HUH RICK.” But he knows he should probably wait. Give his hole some time to recover, let the bruises blossom.

SO they’re at a venue, and everyone’s inside and setting up and getting ready and stuff, and Vin makes a pass at Rick, being like, “Do you wanna go pound one out in the bus before the show?” And Rick is like, yeah sure why not, and he had actually been thinking what was going on with Vin for him to be able to go the past approximately 4-5 days without initiating anything with Rick, there must have been something going on because that had seemed to set a record for the longest amount of time they hadn’t fucked ever since they had first started hooking up. Rick had started to get worried, but, ole reliable (as in Vin’s aching, needy boycunt), has beckoned once again and Rick is here to provide. They go to the empty bus.

Rick barely manages to get the door closed behind him before Vin drops his pants and throws himself down on the couch, lifting his shirt up to his chest and showing off his hip bones and his belly and the line of hair that runs from the middle of his chest down the center of his body. He tangles his hands in his shirt and wiggles his hips and tries to look pouty but he’s also like, we are here for a reason so lets get to it before someone walks in on us or we have to go finish getting ready for stage.

Rick joins him on the couch, leaning down in between his legs with his hands planted on either side of Vin’s chest, Ricky’s hair falls like curtains on either side of his face, almost grazes Vin’s face. Ricky takes a second to appreciate Vin’s fucking beautiful face and how it looks so cute and pouty and he is so glad that Vin is so fucking needy all the time and that he entrusts Rick to be the one to help him take care of that. It’s like, an honor.

So they kiss for a while and Ricky runs his hands through Vin’s hair and Vin does the same and Vin is already grinding his hips up and into Ricky’s still clothed hips, but can feel his hard cock through the jeans. Finally they stop kissing and then Rick sits back and realizes what is scattered around Vin’s hips and thighs and his jaw nearly drops. He’s like “where the fuck did you get these?”

And vin is like, “somewhere.” and he still looks cute and flustered and he is doing it on purpose because he wants to get Ricky all fired up.

Rick continues to ask questions, “when? Where? How?” and Vin refuses to answer any of them, which ends up kind of infuriating Ricky but in the best way possible, but he really doesn’t give a shit who Vinny fucks around with.

Ricky slides his hand over Vin’s hole, he’s already fucking wet and dripping because of course he is. Ricky shoves a couple fingers in him, and Vin whines.

“If you’re so fucking desperate to get off all the time, then that’s what you’re gonna get” Ricky threatens and plunges his face in and starts sucking on Vin and still thrusts his fingers in and out of him.

Vin loves it and squeezes his thighs around Rick’s face and grabs hold of Ricky’s hair. And since there is nobody on the bus, Vin gets to be Loud As Fuck and he moans and whimpers and Ricky fucking loves it because only very rarely do they get to actually let themselves be loud.

Vin realizes that he isn’t gonna get out of this any time soon so he let’s himself relax. Well, relax as much as possible when Rick is sucking his dick and has half his hand shoved in his hole. The stimulation manages to get him to come again and then Rick sits up but still doesn’t stop, pulls his hand out and its covered in slick and he rubs at Vin’s dick. Ricky’s other hand traces along the bruises on Vin’s hips, and he presses into them, knowing it’s gonna hurt, but he wants to make them darker, wants to make them worse, wants Vin to know that he is malleable.

Ricky makes Vin come and then doesn’t stop, doesn’t come up for air, just keeps going at the same pace and Vin doesn’t even get the opportunity to recover because it’s like he is shaking and his orgasm doesn’t actually ever end up stopping because the stimulation doesn’t stop.

At some point, Vin shoves his fingers in his own mouth, letting his fingers slide over his tongue and there is already spit sliding down the corners of his mouth because it’s basically a pavlovian response at this point that as soon as something gets put in his mouth, he starts to drool like crazy, which is hot for him, he likes it.

“Desperate mindless slut just wants to come all the time, huh.” Rick says. Vin is too overstimulated at this point to even feel like he could come again. He is squirming and he feels like he has fallen back into the cushions of the couch and the back of his head feels all floaty and he isn’t even sure if his hand is still in his mouth because it feels like he has been taken out of his body at this point. He could open his eyes to look at ricky kneeling above him, but he doesn’t want to, he’d rather embrace it, let himself fall numb, fall mindless, let Rick continue to pump at his dick and push into his hips and mark him up, reminding Vin that he can let his body belong to Rick if he wants it to.

Rick likes what he sees below him, the way that Vin’s waist curves in just slightly, the way his hand is pulling at his mouth, his bottom lip pulled down and the spit running down the sides of his face, Vin’s hair pooled around his head, his eyes closed and a light blush across his cheeks, looking dumb and overstimulated and letting himself be turned to mush. Rick feels honored that Vin lets himself get in this headspace in front of Rick, because of Rick. There’s a lot of trust there, Rick takes it seriously. He knows that Vin is pliable rn, he doesn’t want to do anything to actually hurt him.

Rick still wants to make him come again, so he doesn’t stop with his hand. He leans forward, gets his face next to Vin’s, kisses up his neck and behind his ear, telling him about how he is so mindless and he is just a plaything and how his only responsibility is to let himself continue to be slack and numb and let himself come again. And somehow Vin manages to do it, to let himself come again, by this time it doesn’t even really feel much different than the sensations that were already happening, it just feels like a completion. Vin surprises himself when Ricky finally stops rubbing at him and within like 30 seconds he already wants more but he knows he probably shouldn’t and it would probably just hurt but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t cross his mind that he still wants it.

Ricky lays on top of him but makes sure vin can still breathe. It takes multiple minutes for Vin to come back, he starts wiggling his toes and fingers, bringing the sensation back, starts moving his face around and starts to make himself coherent again, tries to stitch up the parts of himself that he let fall undone.

Rick kisses along his neck, talks to him sweetly, but does realize that there is a sense of urgency here. Maybe Rick shouldn’t have done this when they have to go on stage within the next hour or so. Vin is gonna need a red bull or something.

[moonlit-han]

the constellation of cup noodles ↠ bang chan

genre: idol!au, angst, fluff pairing: bang chan x non-idol!gender-neutral reader word count: 3.3k warnings: angst, suggestive, a bit of swearing request: yes

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

You weren’t used to being at work this late, since tonight was your first night working the night shift. It was 9:33 pm when the door to the convenience store opened, the bell jingling obnoxiously. Looking up from the book you were reading, you saw someone in dressed in all black with a black face-mask covering their nose and mouth, and a baseball cap pulled down over their eyes. They made a beeline for the mild instant noodles on the back shelves. After a few minutes, they came up to the counter with not just one pack of noodles but a whole case of thirty.

“Good evening,” they said politely. “Is it possible to buy the whole case?”

You were a bit taken aback—people never wanted to get quite that much of the instant noodle goodness. “Um, sure!” you said. “There’s no reason why not. Is that it?”

“Great,” the customer said, and held out a card for you to run. “Um, here you go.”

You took the card, trying to ignore how pretty their voice was. You had the feeling they might be famous in some way, as they kept their mask and hat on and didn’t try to make much smalltalk. Sometimes you got idols in the shop, and this person fit the general stereotype of a person trying to be inconspicuous but being more conspicuous in trying. Making a point not to look at the name on the card, you rang up the crate of noodles and handed it back to the customer with their receipt.

“Have a good evening and come again!” you said as they made their way out of the shop. Then, you realized you should actually be a good person and rushed out from behind the counter. “Wait! Let me get the door for you!”

The customer waited, holding the crate of instant noodles with surprising ease, then walked down the two steps down to the sidewalk. “Thanks, Y/N,” they said, surprising you with the use of your name. “Have a good night.” With you totally not staring after them, they walked away, turning their head up to the sky to see if there were any stars visible that night.

A week later, it was raining harder than if you had stood under a waterfall. Person after person had come into the shop that day to buy an umbrella, most of them business people but some students, too. Around 9:30 pm, the bell jingled and you fought the urge to knock it from its hook. You heard a grateful sigh as someone came in out of the rain. Peaking around the counter, you saw someone wearing all black and a black face-mask pull down their hood and take off a baseball cap. They shook out their slightly damp, black hair and ran their fingers through it, shaking their head, as they made their way to the instant noodles. You wondered, idly, if this was the same person who’d come in the week before.

When they came up to the counter carrying a whole crate of noodles, you knew it was the same person.

“Hey, Y/N, right? You were working last week when I came in,” the customer said. It was evident to you now that they were a young man around your age—you could hear a foreign accent dancing around the edges of his speech, but it wasn’t noticeable enough for you to tell what it was.

“Yeah, I remember you, too,” you said, studying his face. “If you don’t mind me asking, why the mask and hat all the time?”

Even with the mask on, you could tell the young man was smiling a little nervously, to the point it almost looked like a grimace. “Well, I don’t really want to be recognized,” he said, voice low, and unhooked the mask from around one of his ears. “But I guess I’ll make an exception—you seem chill.”

You had to school your expression so that it wasn’t obvious that you immediately found him attractive. Wildly attractive. He had wonderfully sparkling eyes and a mouth that clearly smiled often.

“A- Are you an idol?” you said and mentally kicked yourself. Of course he was an idol.

The young man in front of you laughed lightly and nodded. “Yeah. My name’s Bang Chan and I’m with JYPE.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N . . . as you know already,” you could feel yourself blushing.

“Nice to meet you, too, Y/N. Um, could you ring this up, please?” Chan asked, smiling ruefully.

“Oh, yeah—sorry!” You rang up the noodles, then said, “Could I ask a question?”

“Sure—as long as it’s not too personal.”

“Why are you buying thirty packs of instant noodles every Saturday?” you asked, not caring that it was a slightly silly question. You gave Chan his card and receipt.

Chan laughed, the sound bright and delighted. “It’s for my members, who like to eat way too many,” he patted the crate of noodles, “of these. I mean, I do, too, but it’s mainly for them.”

You were about to say something, but Chan continued. “Um, I’ve got to get back, and it looks like the rain’s letting up a little. I’ll see you around, Y/N!” he said, and flashed a small smile at you.

Still not believing that you’d just met one of the handsomest people you’d ever seen, and actually had a coherent conversation with him, you stared after Chan as he left the shop. The rain had, indeed, let up a bit, but he still jogged through the puddles on the sidewalk, crate of instant noodles in hand.

After he’d come in around 9:30 pm on three Saturdays in a row, you thought it might be becoming a pattern or already was one before you’d changed your shift. So, when Chan came in to get the noodles, starting toward the back shelves, you called, “I’ve already got it up here!”

Chan turned and came toward you, a wide smile on his face. “Y/N, hey, what’s up? Thanks, by the way.”

“Have you had a good week?” you asked, smiling back.

“Eh, I’ve been busy, but at least I’ve gotten enough sleep.” Chan ran a hand through his hair—he seemed to do that a lot around you.

“Hey, that’s good! Make sure to drink enough water, too.” As you said it, you realized you were probably telling someone who drank more water than you to do so, but so what! He should!

Chan laughed lightly. “So, how was your week, then? Anything interesting happen in here?”

“Nope, not really. Honestly, you coming in is probably the most exciting thing that’s happened,” you said, trying not to sound like you were flirting with every fiber of your being. (You were, in fact).

“Well, it’s a small but genuine highlight of my week, too, Y/N,” Chan said. He leaned on the counter.

You felt yourself blush a little, and looked down at the register. “Oh, I still need to ring you up,” you said, trying to ignore Chan’s eyes on you. No way. No. Way. An idol from JYPE flirting with you? That just didn’t happen . . . did it?

“Um, Y/N?” Chan said a little hesitantly. “You alright?”

You realized that you’d been standing there, lost in your thoughts, despite having said you needed to ring him up. “Oh my god, sorry. Yes, okay, thanks.” Taking the card, you quickly completed the transaction and gave him the receipt. “They just changed the policy, so could you sign the store copy, please?” you said, feeling bad for asking him to do one more thing.

“Sure!” Chan said and signed, taking slightly longer than you’d have guessed.

As he picked up the instant noodles and made to leave, he said, “Can you check that I gave you the right copy back? I’ve been known to take the wrong one.” He smiled ruefully.

You looked down at the receipt and saw “Store Copy” printed at the top, but your attention was drawn to the bottom where he’d scrawled his signature. Below the line, he’d written a phone number. You looked back up to see him still standing in front of you and you raised your eyebrows, as if to say, What? Chan just grinned and winked, then headed out the door. Yet again, you found yourself staring after him.

As soon as your shift ended, you typed the number into your phone and sent: “Hi, this is Y/N. I hope this is the right number.”

You got a response back immediately: “Hey, Y/N! You definitely got the right number 😊 I’d keep texting right now, but I’ve gotta go to bed right now bc I’ve already been up too late hoping you’d message 😅 I hope you have a peaceful sleep and lovely dreams. Goodnight! —Chan💕”

You squealed. What else would you do? You squealed with absolute glee over the fact that you were definitely flirting and texting a) someone, b) someone extremely attractive who somehow thought you were, too, and c) an idol! How the hell had this happened?

As you got ready for bed, you would occasionally look at the message, just to make sure it was real and you hadn’t imagined the whole thing. Nope, still there and cute as ever. You went to sleep with a smile on your face and did, indeed, have lovely dreams.

↠↞

For weeks, you'd been counting down the days and then hours until Chan had to leave to go on tour, and now that it was the night before he was leaving, you had no idea what to do. While you were happy for him and the others to get back to touring, and prouder than he could ever imagine, you couldn't help but feeling lost. You chided yourself—Chan hadn't even left yet and you already felt like a baby bird pushed too early from the nest. After deliberating over idea after idea for what to do for his last night with you until two months from now, you’d decided that just staying in was the best choice.

You brought Chan through the entrance to your apartment complex to the rooftop garden where you’d set out a meal on a small area of grass, looking out over the city to the mountains. You’d made or bought all his favorite dishes, and even nestled candles in two jars to provide a little light as darkness descended. The late summer air was cool in the evening, which, you thought gleefully, would be perfect for cuddling.

As Chan saw the spread, he turned to you, a bright smile on his face. “Is this all for me?”

“Of course!” you said, leaning against him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Oh, my sweet dove,” Chan said, wonderingly and kissed your cheek, turning to fold you into his embrace. You twined your arms around his neck to properly kiss him, relishing his warmth and solidness. After a moment, Chan looked over your shoulder, sniffing curiously.

“Is that—” he began.

“It’s all your favorites, babe,” you said, keeping an arm around Chan’s waist. There was no way in hell you were letting go of him until the morning when he would have to leave. Together, you sat on the blanket you’d spread on the grass.

“You’re the best, you know that?” Chan said, wonder in his voice. “I still can’t believe I’m dating you.” He leaned his head against yours.

“Yeah, I know,” you said, smiling. “I can’t believe it either.”

You distinctly remembered the weeks before Chan had received the “OK” from his company to date you—it had incensed you that your love life would now be dictated by the whims of some entertainment company. And when he’d said he was going to ask if he could officially date you, you were on edge for the long weeks until you got the best news of your life. Some mornings, you still pinched yourself to see if this reality was real. Sighing, you brought your thoughts back to the present where your boyfriend was clearly just itching to dig into the food spread before you.

“Channie, you should eat,” you said, running your hand up and down his side encouragingly.

“You have to, as well, though,” he said, concern coloring his voice.

You chuckled. “Get yours first, babe.”

Chan clapped his hands together excitedly, wriggling like an happy corgi. He took some of everything you’d prepared, making happy little noises as soon as he began to eat. You filled a plate, too, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the sunset. The last rays of the sun lanced through clouds that were being driven away by a light breeze—you might even be able to see some stars later.

As you finished your food, your thoughts turned again to the fact that Chan would be gone for two whole months. You set your plate down and rested your head against your boyfriend’s shoulder, trying not to feel too down. Chan’s arm went around you, pulling you closer and you snuggled into his side.

Chan, ever sensitive to your moods, murmured in your ear. “I’ll only be gone for two months, dove. And then, I’ll fly right back to you.” He carefully pulled you into his lap and you nuzzled his neck, which must have tickled him because he let out a soft chuckle. “We can message all the time and even video chat, if I have strong enough WiFi. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

“But Chan, you’re going overseas. On tour. I- I just want you to be safe,” you replied, fighting the catch in your voice.

Just admitting that you were worried for him made you feel even more like your world would start to crumble in less than twenty-four hours. It wasn’t that you were unhealthily codependent—far from it, since you were in school and he was an idol with a busy schedule. You couldn’t be codependent. But, there was still comfort in knowing that he’d be there to hold you when you couldn’t deal with the stress of classes anymore and you’d be there when his job became too demanding or when unknown fans sent wholly unnecessary hate. After almost a year of dating, you were used to having him in the country, at least.

“I’ll be with the others,” Chan reassured you. “And the company always makes sure we fly and travel well—don’t worry. My dove, my dear one, please don’t worry too much for me? Save some worry for me to have for you.”

“Baby—” you began, but Chan stopped you by bringing his mouth to yours. His lips were slightly chapped as usual, but you didn’t care. The kiss tasted of resignation, sadness, worry, and, of course, love. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of Chan’s body against yours, the way his hands found their way into the back pockets of your jeans, the softness of his kisses. More than anything, you were going to miss this: casual, simple affection that was never hurried nor heated, but just what was needed in the moment. You’d miss waking up beside him and rolling over to curl into his side, or being the big spoon when he just needed to be held and comforted. You’d miss going on walks in the park along the river, eating street food late at night, and— Dear god, you’d miss the sex. You really weren’t sure how you were going to stand it.

You drew back after long moments of languid kissing in which you’d still managed to slip your hands up under Chan’s shirt, and looked at your boyfriend. Tears pricked your eyes, and you hastily wiped them away. He would be back—that much was certain. The look in Chan’s eyes told you that he knew was, in truth, just as distraught to leave you for so long.

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” you whispered, holding his face in your hands and kissing him over and over again.

“Dove, you know I can’t. I wish I could, but then I’d never leave. It’s- It’s our world tour—I have to go. Fuck, I’m gonna miss you, Y/N.” Chan’s voice finally broke as he said your name and he held you to his chest as tightly as he could, burying his face in your neck.

You clung to him and he to you, whispering that you loved each other as the stars began to appear overhead. His lips found yours again, and you were certain that you wouldn’t be able to stop kissing, stop holding him unless someone pulled you away. Once you were both thoroughly breathless from wonton kissing, you looked up at the sky, which had turned a deep, velvety blue.

“Channie,” you said, threading your fingers through his hair over and over again as you sat together. He was tracing swirls onto the back of your hand, fingers light on your skin. “Look at the sky.”

He looked up, and sighed. The breeze had blown away the clouds and even some of the smog, revealing the first pinpricks of stars above you. Chan pulled you down on the blanket beside him so you could lay and look up at the stars. You simply watched them seemingly fade into existence as the last vestiges of light left the sky, true dark folding you in its embrace like a cloak made of shadow. Once there were enough stars out, Chan began to point out constellations.

“See? There’s Orion with his belt of three stars. Oh! And there’s Andromeda—it’s almost a double-u shape.” Chan pointed them all out to you, even though he’d taught them all to you before. “And that,” he said confidently, “is the Constellation of the Cup Noodle. Note the single noodle trailing down its side.”

You gently elbowed him, giggling. “You made that up!”

“No, really!” Chan protested, reaching for your hand to hold. “There’s the round top and see those stars on either side? Those are the container itself. And then that line of stars down there,” he pointed, “is the one noodle hanging over the side!”

“You get sillier every day, babe,” you laughed, and rolled over so that you were partially on top of Chan. “If you say it’s the Constellation of the Cup Noodle, then I guess it is.”

“You know you love it, dove,” Chan said, rubbing your back and leaning his head forward to kiss your nose. “Hell, it’s cold now. Let’s go back to your bedroom and warm up, shall we?” He said, and even in the dark, you could see him wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Bringing your linked hands to your lips, you kissed along Chan’s palm and then to the tip of each of his fingers. “Mmmm,” you mused, “you’ll have to put these pretty fingers to good use, then, won’t you?” You sucked his index finger a little, giving him the most innocent doe eyes you could.

Chan’s soft laugh shook both of you. “Oh, dove, how you’re tempting me. You’ll have to wait until we get back inside.” He moved to sit up and you found yourself laying in his lap. “Although, I think I could arrange a little preview, if you think you can be quiet . . .”

You nodded eagerly, and clamped your lips shut just as Chan brought his lips back to yours and his hand snaked under the waistband of your pants. It was lucky that he was kissing you, you thought. Otherwise, the whole city might have heard you in what was only the first of many times that night. 

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: something sad (Implosion)

Summary: The last time Katsuki sees Izuku alive the other boy is rushing to save him.  A ‘the Sludge Villain incident gone wrong’ aka Izuku dies.

Characters:  Katsuki Bakugo

Fandom: My Hero Academia

WARNINGS! Major Character death, swearing, heavy angst, graphic descriptions of violence

Other parts in this AU: (Something Sad),  (Anger), (Grief)

...

(Katsuki gets a taste of vigilantism)

.

“GET OFF!” Katsuki struggles against the hands pulling him down. Down. Down into never-ending darkness. Ahead of him is Deku, trapped in a swirling cocoon of shifting green sludge. The idiot is smiling, so bloody pleased with himself like he isn’t seconds away from death. He yells and struggles but the shadowy figures holding him are unaffected. All they do is watch with empty eyes.

.

Katsuki flings himself upright, taking several hash breaths. The air is still, the silence oppressive. Around him, the walls of his bedroom loom, the single remaining All Might poster he still has up glaring down at him. He is shaking drenched in sweat, hands twitching, itching, eager to blow something up. Anything to loosen the knot of empty, pointless frustration stuck in his chest. In between breaths, Katsuki rolls out of bed, yanking a jacket from where it is slung over his lopsided desk in the same move. He is not wearing a shirt and he doesn’t want to go out completely exposed.

The front door is deadlocked and needs a key. A change brought about by his continued unsanctioned trips outside.  Luckily, it is not his only exit option. Katsuki yanks open his bedroom window, sticking his head out, scanning the narrow walkway that runs between his building and the next. Nothing moves, the dark space is empty save for the apartment’s collection of communal garbage bins. Quickly, he shimmies out through the narrow opening, twisting so he can drop feet first.

It is four stories down and he lets himself fall, forming twin blasts in both hands to slow his descent.

 He had long theorised that he would be able to increase and decrease his momentum with controlled explosive bursts. Pain shoots through his ankles as he lands in a crouch next to the bins but it’s not bond-breaking, so he guesses his theory is correct.

Katsuki straightens, listening to the muffled sounds of a TV playing somewhere in the building next to him. It doesn’t seem like the sound of his blasts had caught anybody’s attention. The air outside is muggy, still warm from the day's heat. Another beat passes and he is strolling off down the street, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, bare feet silent on the sun-warmed pavement. Slowly, his breathing returns to normal. Now, if he could only find something to distract his dumb brain from re-playing the scene of Deku’s final moments that would be great. He needs something to fuel his anger and rage so he can distract himself from the new empty bitterness, burrowing into his chest.  

The few people he passes are salarymen returning from an evening drinking and they all give him a wide berth. He glares, daring one of them to comment on his appearance or take issue with the fact that he is a middle-schooler roaming the streets at midnight. None of them do. The cowards.

Katsuki is cutting through backstreets, making his way towards one of the busier sections of the city, when a faint groaning sound catches his attention. He freezes, listening, eyes darting over the plain brick walls, scanning the taller office buildings and apartment complexes for the source. There…around the corner… two streets down…there is someone groaning. He stalks forward, following the murmur of angry voices. In between angry muttering is the yelp of a person in pain.

Katsuki breaks into a jog, turning in the direction of the noise, following till he can make out conversation. 

“I told you to pay up old man. You stupid or something.”

“Please. I don’t have any money…”

There is the thunk of something solid hitting flesh. 

Katsuki comes to a stop near the entrance to a shadowed alleyway just big enough to fit a small car. There is a group of three adults in loose clothing, looming over a downed fourth person. A tall lanky man with a metal bat, a shorter guy with bulging arm muscles, and a greasy-haired man holding a knife are focused on an older man who is holding a briefcase over his head like a shield. Thoughts of Deku fade to be replaced with single-minded determination.

“Hey losers,” he strolls out into full view, “How about you fight someone who’s not missing his geriatrics appointment.”

All three would-be muggers, he’ll call them Tiny, Lanky and Grease-Hair, freeze, turning as one to stare at him. In his chest his blood seems to come alive as his heart rate ramps up.

“What the hell?” Tiny looks to his fellow muggers for confirmation, “it’s a kid?”

There are few seconds of disbelieving silence before Grease-Hair shakes off their collective aneurism. “Hey kid! Why don’t you fuck off? This is none of your business.”

“You weak, wannabe-thugs got a problem with the truth?” He smirks, fingers twitching. His response has three, four if you include the Brief-Case man, incredulous looks directed his way.

“You got hearing problems kid? He said to fuck off,” Lanky steps forward, resting his bat across his shoulder in a display of aggression.

Katsuki cracks his knuckles as loudly as possible and settles into a semi-crouch, ready to use his blasts to propel himself forward. It was time to put his newly confirmed quirk ability to the test.

“Guess the standard for criminals around here just really sucks.”

“You got a death wish brat?” Grease-Hair brandishes his knife, coming to stand beside Tall-and-Lanky, “I’ll make you cry so fucking much you shit stain.”

“HA! as if you could!” All at once his anger, excitement and frustration spike into a wave of adrenalin. 

Before Grease-Hair can take another step toward him, Katsuki launches himself forward, propelling himself with as big a blast as he can manage without breaking his arms. As Katsuki is naturally hardier than the average person-a secondly quirk characteristic- the blast ends up being pretty damn big. WHOOOM! It rattles the glass in the adjacent windows. His last coherent thought before he lets his mind succumb to the rush of exhilaration is that he needs to take out one of these guys as quickly as possible to even the odds.

Crunch, is the sound Grease-Hair’s face and nose make when he slams his knee into it. The snap of bones breaking is unnervingly satisfying. Grease-Hair topples over, eyes blank, expression of shock frozen on his face as he takes an express trip into dreamland. The knife clatters on the concrete.

“Holy crap!” The two remaining men offer shouts of alarm. The bat comes hurtling towards his head and Katsuki hurls himself to the side, ignoring the stab of pain that runs up his shoulder when he lands at an awkward angle. He flexes his hands, throwing both arms up in direction of his attacker who is now trying to bring the bat down on his legs.

BOOM!

Fire and smoke erupt between them, throwing them in opposite directions. The bright flash of light and heat provides enough cover for him to roll on his feet. Tiny and Lanky stumble backward and Brief-Case man makes a run for it while they are distracted. In the main street, several car alarms go off. Katsuki, being unaffected by the explosion, recovers first and leaps through the smoke, fists clenched. Moving his arm around in an arching swing, it smacks into Lanky’s head. He barely feels this sting in his wrist and knuckles as the skin on his knuckles break against his teeth. Blood sprays into the air.

It is at this point that Tiny recovers enough to retreat a few paces and make a slashing motion with his hand. Some invisible force slams into Katsuki’s side and he is flung sideward away from Lanky. Pain blossoms in his ribs and he lets off a clumsily blast to slow his momentum. He still hits the wall of the ally hard enough to leave cracks in the brick. Blood fills his mouth from where he has accidentally bitten into the side of his tongue.

A quirk effect? Something invisible that hit hard and had some range to it. Not great for him. He pushes off the wall, crouching, ready to dodge. Tiny drags Lanky to his feet. They are both glaring at him, eyes dark.

He coughs, and, even as the distant realisation that this might not have been a good idea tugs at his thoughts, he grins, “You pieces of trash are weak shit.”

“You’re fucking dead,” Lanky fumes.

Unfortunately- or maybe fortunately- Katsuki never finds out what the two thugs would have done next in retaliation because there is a loud, amplified shout from the ally entrance.  

“FREEZE COMBATANTS.”

A blinding white light flickers on and illuminates the entire alleyway, making him wince and bring an arm up to shield his eyes.

“Shit. Cops.” Both Tiny and Lanky turn, obviously intending to make a run for it, only to realise that the ally ends in a tall stone wall.

“WOULD ALL COMBATANTS TAKE FIVE STEPS AWAY FROM EACH OTHER AND FACE THE WALL!” 

Katsuki glowers in the direction of the megaphone-enhanced voice but can only make out the silhouettes of almost a dozen figures against the spotlight. Well, he’s definitely in shit now.

“ANYONE WHO DOES NOT COMPLY WILL BE SUBDUED BY FORCE!”

“Shit. Damn it.” Both men throw their hands in the air in a display of surrender not willing to try and take on what looked like half of the Musutafu police depo.  Katsuki begrudgingly follows suit, his breath beginning to even out as the rush adrenalin dips now that the fighting was over.

“Turn around and face the wall,” Is shouted once more, “Keep your hands in the air.” The silhouettes begin their approach. And they all awkwardly stand in a line and stare at the grey brick. Around them, blasted fragments of asphalt and ripped up concrete stand as damning evidence of his involvement. Guess he’ll be taking that ‘trip to the station’ after all. No way the bastards were going to let him off with a stern lecture after this.

“I hope you’re happy you psycho shit,” Lanky snaps, drawing his attention and he notes that the man is now missing one of his front teeth,  “Got us all fuckin in arrested.”

Katsuki spits out the blood that has been collecting in his mouth since he hit the wall. It spats on the ground near the man’s feet, “You got beaten up by a middle schooler. I did the criminal underworld a favour getting your weak asses off the street.”

That hits a nerve going by how the man’s face twists into a snarl of rage “Why you little…” Lanky lunges towards him and is immediately blocked by a swarm of police officers who have since surround them and tackle the man to the ground. “HEY, DON’T MOVE!” “GET ON THE GROUND” There is a lot of yelling, swearing, and spitting but the thug is quickly overwhelmed.

“All right, you, the one standing on the left…”

 Katsuki shifts his attention from watching Lanky get wrestled into cuffs to the tired-sounding cop standing a few feet behind him. Is it just him or does the guy sound annoyingly familiar?

“Put your arms down and cross them behind your back…” the sentence trails off.

“Bakugō?”

Katsuki squints over his shoulder at the familiar face of Senior Officer Watanabe. So…not just him. Fucking fantastic. Said familiar face is frozen, surprised, hands half way to opening a set of bulky cuffs.

There is a long exhale, “What have you done now.”

“Done?” Katsuki sneers, “I saw these assholes beating the shit out of some old man so I beat the shit of them instead.” Now the fight is over, that feeling of irritable restlessness is creeping back.

The Senior Officer shakes his head in disbelief, “Geeze kid, this isn’t like setting off explosives in the park, vigilantism is a serious offence.”

“What? I was supposed to do nothing then?” He grits his teeth. There, he can feel it, the anger flaring up again.

“You’re supposed to call for help. You’re lucky we got reports of the altercation and responded as quick as we did. You’re a mess kid.” 

“Tch. I was handling it.”

The man looks at him funny before letting out a long exhausted breath, “Are you going to come quietly so I can get an EMT to look you over or do I have to put you in these suppressant cuffs?”  A pause, “ And where is your shirt … and shoes?”

“Do whatever old man.” Katsuki ignores the second question. 

A firm hand lands on his shoulder, which he tries and fails to shrug off, pulling him off towards the entrance of the ally. The cuffs are handed off to another officer. They pass Tiny and Lanky who are both now sitting cross-legged on the ground, hands secured behind their backs, facing the wall. Grease-Hair, still unconscious, is being fussed over by two men in white and red paramedic uniforms. There is a small crater where Katsuki had let off his larger blast.

“Your handy work I presume?” Watanabe asks.

 “Hell yeah it is.”

That gets another sigh, “This is all going on your record. You do understand that, right?”

It must be the remaining adrenalin that has him laughing, “Like I give a shit.”

[lesbiangracehanson]

I don’t get it. Kate wasn’t undercover? She ended up being an informant but didn’t tell AC12 all that much of use. Instead she kept insisting to AC12 Jo wasn’t bent, made a point of saying to Jo she wouldn’t tell them personal stuff (and didn’t), while not doing her usual undercover thing of pushing too hard for info. She kept undermining AC12’s investigation anyway by giving Jo a head’s up about the investigation and later about Ryan spying on her. Running from Ryan’s lawful shooting didn’t exactly help AC12 either when Kate could’ve just arrested Jo on the spot and waited for backup. And why couldn’t Kate have got two lines in the finale to explain how she felt either way? Mainly I just pity the BBC intern who had to try and put a coherent response together.

EXACTLY........... u really said it all here, anon. if she was undercover this was her worst undercover operation to date (+ i’m sorry to kate, but THAT’S saying something considering some of her previous operations...). cos like.... you’re absolutely right, if kate was undercover she:

continuously leaked ac12 info/made things more difficult for ac12

continuously defended jo in private to others (aka to steve + ted when jo was not present) like..... why would she be pretending in that situation 

and you’re so right re: her not doing her usual undercover thing of pushing too hard for info, like that’s one of those really blatant things that tells the audience that kate is undercover and..... this series we really saw her biting her tongue + not pushing jo too much on some things, i don’t really believe that this is just kate realising her old undercover tactic was a bit shit loooool 

it’s just kind of funny to me bc looking back on s6 and particularly the finale..... jo didn’t end up really providing any integral info to ac12 that i can think of? like yeah, the instructions she got on her laptop helped link buckells to things but there was nothing.......truly groundbreaking lol, nothing came of her identifying fairbank as the police officer who she thought was her dad, she didn’t know buckells was involved. the only thing i guess is that ac12 removed 2 police officers (jo + buckells) with OCG connections but idk.... it’s just kind of whatever to me lol 

anyway, ur right either way kate should’ve got at least 2 lines to explain how she felt like.... there’s only so much reading between the lines u can expect your audience to do lol. and also the lack of explanation makes zero sense in the context of this series opening with kate being obviously conflicted about her anticorruption work/undercover operations. i’ve said this before but having kate just inevitably slip back into ‘going undercover’ again or ‘working for ac12′ just makes her leaving ac12 after 10 years seem ..... pointless 

[mandoalorian]

Home [Ezra Prospect x Reader]

Home [Ezra Prospect x gender neutral reader]

Warnings: yearning, yearning and more yearning. I just wanted to have a go at writing for him.

Word count: 2k

Rating: PG

Authors Note: I’ve never ever wrote for Ezra before and I find his character just a little bit complicated but I hope this is somewhat coherent and enjoyable :)

MASTERLISIT | Submit a request!

"I feel like I don't belong here." you swallowed as you stared straight ahead into the green forest. Your eyes were stinging and you knew if you just gave it a few more moments, tears would threaten to spill. "I never thought I'd leave Puggart Bench." You rubbed your eyes and took a deep breath. The sun was setting just off the horizon. The day was coming to an end.

"Cee lived on the Pug," Ezra grumbled as he clawed through deep damp soil, digging out aurelac. Ezra paused as he remembered his reluctant associate. "I miss her." He finished. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched your partner pull out the aurelac sac and carefully harvest it.

You didn't say anything— you figured it was best to stay quiet. It was hard though. Ezra promised you, as the days went by, it would get easier. But it didn't. You were beginning to believe he was a liar. You missed your family; your parents and your friends. You wondered if they were still out there— somewhere. You wondered if they missed you. No. You forced yourself to shake away the feelings. If they missed you, they would've come back for you. They would've rescued you.

You and Ezra walked back to camp in complete silence, apart from his occasional grunt and groan as he pushed his tired legs through the thick waves of grass. When you arrived back to your shared tent, Ezra was the first to go in. He always was. You knew his routine. He'd strip himself out of his environment suit and usually take a shower. He wanted to wash away any chance of the dust spores.

You promised him for that as long as he wore his environment suit out of camp, he would be safe. You would remind him that your shared tent had the best air filtration system he could ever ask for. But the loss of his arm had struck a kind of paranoia within him. You didn't call him out for his impulsive behaviour. You let him be. Although this trauma hurt, you still loved him for who he was. You knew his sense of pride had deteriorated since the incident and you wish you could do something to restore his confidence in himself. It was these little quirks what you loved so much about Ezra.

You lingered outside the camp for a few minutes, taking in the fresh air. Now that Ezra was occupied, maybe you could release all your pent up emotions. Cry it out. You shuffled along to the large fawn tree which hung above your camp and sat down on the grass. You picked up some pine that had fallen and began to scrape a tally mark into the bark of the tree. You had been on the Green Moon, with Ezra, 365 days and counting.

"A year is a long time, moonbeam," you heard Ezra from behind you. His voice was just as soft and articulated as ever. You noticed he'd showered, judging from his damp hair, and he had lazily put his environment suit back on. You blinked at him and then turned away.

"You should go back inside," you told him, your gaze fixated on the tree that marked your days like a calendar. "Your hair is wet, you'll catch a cold."

Ezra crouched down before shuffling next to you and you took a deep breath. "I've been here many years," Ezra admitted. "In fact, I don't remember much of my life before I came to the Green Moon."

"Why did you come here?" you asked, your voice breaking.

Ezra took a moment and stared into the sunset. "Like all Prospectors," he told you. "I guess I just wanted to make something of myself. It got lonesome, sure. But then I met Cee, and she gave my life purpose. I had responsibility."

You knew Ezra had a deep respect for Cee, the young girl who accompanied him a few years back. "I wish I had known her." you hummed, fumbling with the zip on your environment suit.

"I think she'd like you," Ezra smiled and you spotted the sparkle in his eyes. "She liked reading books too."

"Oh really?" you giggled.

"Yeah," Ezra laughed as he reminisced. "She was smart like you too. I was glad when she left, truly. I knew she didn't want to stay on the Green moon. It's no life for a young child. And despite my attempts I just knew she wasn't safe here." Ezra's explanation was followed by a pause and you noticed the cherry smile fall from his lips. "But I still miss her." he admitted.

Then, in one swift and abrupt motion, Ezra turned to face you. He nudged his gloved hand over yours, cautiously, but with an air of confidence that you hadn't seen from him in a long time. To your surprise, he interlocked his fingers with yours and held your hand. You swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat and found yourself gazing longingly into his dark brown eyes.

After a few beats of silence, the both of you turned your heads back to the sunset. Something so special and unique about the green moon was that every evening, there was a special moment that only lasted a few minutes, where the stars would peek out from the orange pink sky. It was often hard to catch. Tonight was your first time witnessing the unanticipated beauty with your partner.

"It's beautiful." You whispered, taking note of each star and trying to draw upon any constellations. Ezra didn't respond. The silence wasn't awkward or uncomfortable, but instead it was comforting. You knew that, no matter what, you and your family were under the same sky. Possibly looking at the same stars, despite being potential star systems away. "Don't you ever want to leave?" you questioned Ezra with a sigh.

"And go where?" He asked. You realised his voice had dropped octave and you turned back to look at him. The whole time you had been admiring the sunset, Ezra had been admiring you. His grip on your hand tightened as if he was afraid to let you go.

"Anywhere but here." you lulled, feeling the tears brim your eyes again. "There's a whole universe to explore."

"I've found that I quite like staying put. After many years of drifting between planets, I prefer to just stay here." Ezra shrugged his shoulders.

"I know I've lived here, with you, for a year now— but I still consider Puggart Bench my home." you frowned. You dipped your head and rest it on his shoulder.

"For me, home isn't a place," Ezra told you. You pondered his words during the beat of silence. "Home is about who I'm with. For a while, Cee was my home. Now it's you." You pulled your head off him and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. He noted your confused expression and opted to continue his explanation. "Cee gave my life purpose. She was only young and I knew I had to provide for her. I had to go out on digs and earn my keep, make sure not to take any days off. I had to find food for her and make sure she could sleep at night. I tried to educate her but honestly? I think I learned more from her than she learned from me."

"Oh." You smiled a teary smile and looked back into the sunset. The twinkling stars were soon fading away.

"But you, my dearest moonshine," Ezra wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back into him. "You give my life reason. Now that you're with me, I have a reason to wake up every morning. I have a reason to tidy around the tent and not let it get ridiculously messy like it would before you. I have a reason to help you plant the crops and water them when you're not around."

"Oh Ezra," you smiled. "But you don't have to do those things." You shuffled into his warm embrace. You loved the way Ezra held you. It made you feel safe. Protected.

"But I do it because of you," he responded. "You're my reason." After a long silence you pulled away from Ezra. "Come inside?" Ezra asked you. "I brewed some of your favourite herbal tea."

"Really?" you smiled.

"Really." Ezra replied. Not letting go of your hand once, he slowly dragged you back into the tent and sat you down on his bunk.

He squandered over to the little heater where he was boiling some hot water and poured it into your own special mug. You took off your environment suit and made yourself comfortable. Taking a spoon, he pressed the herbs into the side of the mug, creating a tea-like consistency and handed the warm drink to you. You wrapped your hands around the mug and took a sip, humming in delight when and savouring the taste.

"You like it?" Ezra beamed with pride. He was so cute.

"Mhm," you nodded and took another sip. "Tastes like home."

"Oh? You had the same herbal tea on Puggart Bench?" He questioned, also undressing out of his environment suit and sitting next to you, wrapping his blanket over you both. His blanked smelled like him. Like the forests and fresh grass.

You shook your head. "No, you've only ever made me this herbal tea." You told Ezra and that's when it hit you. You considered Ezra home. You finally understood his analogy under the fern tree— about how home is a person rather than a place. You looked up at him and he was smiling down at you.

Ezra was truly your home. He cared for you, protected you. He looked after you when you got sick and cooked for you when you couldn't feel like it. He made sure that the temperature in the tent was never too hot or too cold. When you got tired on digs, he'd even carry you home. You had never experienced such love from anyone before. That's what it was. Love.

"I'm sorry I wasn't much use today on our dig." you hung your head in shame. Ezra wrapped his arm around you again and pulled you down onto his lap.

"That's okay, it's been a rough day. I'm just grateful for your company." Ezra slid his gloves off his fingers and began to gently trace your face. You let his eyes close under his touch.

"How come you're always so understanding?" You whispered, reaching your hand upwards and cupping his cheek. His brown stubble grazed your skin but it felt nice. You liked it.

Ezra wanted to tell you the truth. He wanted you to know that he was never like this with anyone. Just you. He wanted you to know that he was totally and completely infatuated with you. Now that you were in his life, now that you were his home, he couldn't imagine spending his days without you. It broke him knowing that you wanted to leave the Green Moon. That you wanted to leave him behind. He couldn't escape the thought.

After the silence, he noticed you had drifted off to sleep. He gently picked you up from his lap and tucked you into his own bunk, not wanting to wake you. It was okay if you slept in his bed tonight. He was more than happy to take the floor. He admired how peaceful you looked and he was glad you were finally getting some well deserved rest after such a difficult day. He spent a few minutes watching as you gently snored. He wondered what you were dreaming about. He wondered if you dreamt about him the same way he dreamt about you.

"I understand you," Ezra whispered. "Because I love you. You're my home."

Your sleeping body didn't stir in the slightest at his words and he pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. He hoped that one day he could kiss you for real. He hoped he could show you how much you truly meant to him. But today just wasn't the day.

Permanent taglist: @phoenixhalliwell​ @ah-callie​ - if you would like to be added to my taglist please let me know!

[winxwrites]

What You Want

Pairing: August Walker x Reader 

Warnings: Smut, oral, D/S themes, workplace sex 

Word count: 2k

Description: You never expected the racy texts exchanged between you and a coworker to get you in this position...

A/N: Thank you guys for all of the love you showed my first Henry fic! I hope you all enjoy this one! As always, feedback is appreciated ❀ 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Startled, you looked up at the brooding man walking towards you. His presence immediately sent a shiver up your spine. You were so taken back by his entrance that you failed to close the tab on your screen. All traces of laughter were suddenly removed from your demeanor.

“Mr. Walker, I was just... I-”

“Oh save it,” he cut you off as he reached your desk. “I’ve been waiting nearly an hour for your response to my email and then I come down here to find you playing around on your laptop. You’re the last one here, what was stopping you from responding?”

You stuttered over your words attempting to string together a coherent answer that would be pleasing to your boss. 

“I just had some other things to wrap up. Today’s been pretty busy I guess I got beside myself. I’ll be sure to check my emails more frequently.”

He raised an eyebrow at your flustered state. You were grateful that the screen of your MacBook had gone dark as your superior planted himself by your workspace. Your comfort was broken when he tilted his head toward the computer. 

“Turn on your laptop.” That you weren’t expecting. 

“I’m sorry?”

Walker laughed. “You heard me, let’s see what’s got you so distracted.”

Before you could protest the intimidating man hovered over your desk, his finger gracing across the trackpad to illuminate the screen. All you could do was sit there and pray your on shift doings wouldn’t result in the loss of your job.

Your heart leapt as he took in the sight of the tabs on the screen. Your resolve nearly crumbled when his eyes fell onto the opened messages app. 

A shit eating grin was on his face as he mockingly recited the conversation you were engaging in with your coworker Harper. 

August is so sexy - He made sure to draw out his words in a teasing manner. 

You’re so lucky he’s your boss. If I was the one under him we wouldn’t be getting much work done.

Believe me it took everything in me not to drop to my knees the last time he called me into his office.

I bet his dick is fucking massive. God I can’t believe you haven’t fucked him.

The smirk Walker wore was the biggest you’d ever seen. He looked down at you clearly enjoying your uncomfortable state.

“Want me to read more?” 

You hated that you’d been caught. You hated even more the arousal you felt as he spoke to you. 

He removed his dark suit jacket and tossed it aside. He called you by your last name to address you as he rolled up his sleeves. 

“Stand up.”

You quickly stood from your seated position not wanting to be in even more trouble. You were going to apologize for your indiscretion but your boss waived a dismissive hand to silence you. 

He made himself comfortable in your work chair and laced his hands behind his head.

“Never been much of a people pleaser but I guess I can give you what you want.” Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I don’t think you’re going to be productive unless you get something to satiate that slutty little mind of yours.”

You bit into your lower lip as you realized what he was asking of you.

“Get on your knees.”

The timber of his voice left no room for discussion. You mindlessly lowered yourself to the floor. The cool feel of the tiled pattern the only thing able to settle the heat that rang through your body. 

Your eyes widened looking up at August as you waited for his next command. He chuckled darkly at your submission. 

“Go on, be a good girl for me.”

Your unsteady hands reached for the zipper of his trousers, pulling them down enough to expose his black briefs. Your nimble fingers worked to release his hardening member from the tight confines.

Confidence sprang into you as you sat back on your legs. A lewd moan slipped off your tongue as you tasted the salty precum leaking from his tip.

You wrapped your lips around the engorged tip giving a generous suck. You removed his cock from your mouth and stared up at him as you licked a long, wet stripe from his balls to the head of his dick. 

His eyes glossed over as you continued to work your mouth over his generous size. Your wrists worked around his shaft as you flattened your tongue around the bulbous head. 

August eagerly slid himself down your waiting throat as you gasped for air. You barely had time to adjust before he pushed you onto his thickness. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as he quickly pushed you to your limit. 

Your blurred vision caught sight of the smug look he wore as he watched you swallow him. You knew he was close when your nose touched the patch of hair that spread across his pelvis. 

His cock twitched at the sight of seeing you take whatever he gave you. He reached down and stroked your hair out of your face as his orgasm reached its dawn. His gaze was unwavering as he drank in the image of you swallowing his cum. You tried to hide your struggle as you slurped down the liquid. A relieved sigh left his lips once he’d come down from his high. His dick was still surprisingly hard as the heavy girth weighed against your tongue.

An aggressive hand wrapped around your throat pulling you off his slick cock. A trail of drool dribbled down your chin as you disconnected with his thick member. He used the firm grip on your neck to guide you back onto your feet. You gasped a breath you didn’t realize you were holding once his thumb was removed from the column of your throat.

He shifted his grip to your waist and pressed your backside against your desk. 

“August I’m so sorry! It won’t happen again. I’ll be more professional in the future, I promise!”

He released an ironic laugh. “I think you and I can both agree that we’ve clearly passed any professional boundaries that were formerly in place.”

You nodded at his reference to the events that had just occurred. 

“You’re right. But August can we just-“

You were cut off. Walker ran his thumb over your chin and collected some of the spit that still resided there. He playfully rubbed the saliva over your bottom lip before popping his thumb into your waiting mouth. You felt like a whore as you sucked on the digit without objection. 

“You address me as sir or Mr. Walker, are we clear?” You shook your head in agreement as he removed his thumb from your mouth. “Call me August again and you won’t be speaking at all for a while.”

He gingerly sat back in the chair. “Take off your panties.”

Your hands worked to hitch up the hem of your dress and tug the material down your parted thighs. Walker looped his finger through the flimsy lace and took in the sight of the soaked crotch. 

He pressed his palms flat against your knees to part your legs even more. His middle and index finger made their way into your waiting hole. You yelped at the thick intrusions. Walker stroked his fingers back and forth inside your exposed hole. You were reduced to a moaning mess. No man had ever been able to locate your most sensitive spot so quickly.

He withdrew his fingers and wiped your glistening cum on the indigo material of your dress. 

His hand reached for your wrist as he impatiently tugged you toward him. Your parted knees were on either side of the chair as you found yourself in his lap. His erection pointed callously at your waiting cunt. You gulped as you worked your hand over his cock realizing -once again- just how big he was. This didn’t go unnoticed by your boss. 

“What’s the matter kitten? Are you scared?” Your breathing became uneven as he spoke the taunting words into your ear. “Don’t try and act shy now. You said you wanted this.”

Your right hand squeezed his shoulder as your left guided his thickness into your pussy. You let out an exasperated sigh as you looked down and realized he wasn’t even half way in. 

Walker’s hand came up and gripped the back of your neck. He tilted your head in a way that made it impossible to look away from what he was doing to you.

“Oh no kitten, I don’t want you to miss this.” His other hand gripped your thigh and roughly pulled you onto his dick.

His pleasure came first, he made that more than clear. A cocky grin shone on his face once he bottomed out. Your body writhed from the shock of the tight fit.

Reaching between your thighs you tried to rub your clit but August quickly wrapped his hand around your wrist to stop you. A frustrated groan slipped through your lips. He was definitely going to make you work for your release. 

His calloused hands dug into your sides as he pulled you deeper onto his dick. You struggled to keep up with the swift pace he’d created. 

“Sir please...” you whispered in desperation.

To your surprise he moved his hand between your legs providing you some stimulation. He leaned forward and pressed sloppy kisses to your covered chest. Your eyes rolled back as you noticed the wet patches he’d left over either breast.

A relieved groan left your throat as you slumped against his toned chest. Your fingernails dug shallow crescents into his broad shoulders as you indulged in your impending orgasm. 

 “Walker let me cum. Oh God! Sir please!” The only sounds in the office space were your desperate moans. August took a second to look away from the place where your bodies connected. 

The pattern he drew on your clit became sloppy and you knew the end was in sight for both of you. You graced his neck with kisses as you reached your peak. 

A rough hand smacked your ass as you rode out your orgasm. “Look at you being a dirty little slut cumming in my lap.” 

Tears rolled down your cheeks and onto his shoulder as you came down from your high. 

August latched onto your collarbone and sucked brazenly as his own orgasm rang through him. You fidgeted against his thighs from the overstimulation. You knew there would be a blotchy mark left behind but you didn’t care. You were just happy you’d have something to remind you this wasn’t just some dream. 

August stood up and placed you back on your desk. You felt vulnerable when you noticed his darkened eyes watching thick globs of cum drip onto the wooden surface. 

Neither of you had said a word since you’d finished. You weren’t sure your brain could even fathom a coherent sentence after how hard you’d just cum. 

The weight of your encounter suddenly hit you as you leaned down to retrieve your discarded panties. August lifted a heavy foot and trapped the underwear underneath his polished shoes. 

“Oh no kitten. You’re gonna keep my cum in that tight little cunt of yours for the rest of the night.” You looked up at him is disbelief. “And tomorrow morning when you come in I’m gonna check and see how good you take direction.” 

Lost for words you nodded in compliance.  

“Yes sir.”

You slowly stood up, your legs still unsteady. Suddenly you were thankful you’d worn flats. Walker adjusted himself back into his pants and straightened his tie. You were both unsettled when your MacBook rang signifying a new text. 

The illuminated screen captured both of your attentions. Of course it was from your friend Harper sending yet another raunchy message about your boss. If she only knew...

August began heading back to his own office. You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the glass windows and thanked the heavens you were the only one working in the office this late. 

The heavy footsteps came to a halt as your boss stopped before the elevator. He called your name in an even voice. 

You looked back at him in a daze. “Hmmm?”

“Tell your friend she can be next if she’d like.”