#dream your dream under his eye and help me specifically are fics i really want to publish

[rosescries]

I have so many fics that I'm so excited about and really want to publish, but I haaaave to finish some of my WIPs before I do. Specifically, Dust Coated and Can I Keep You. Maybe Bad Habits, too.

I don't want to abandon any of my works or leave them unfinished. Especially when I know the end of them. :/

[gay-dorito-dust]

Benji Blackwood fic idea: apparently he’s a shy, honourable nobleman but an absolute unhinged feral warrior in battle. I can just imagine him being super sweet with his spouse but unleashing hell to the people that hurt her?

I live for protective characters ahaha

Taglist: @pearldaisy

You didn’t know what to think of Benjicot Blackwood, you really didn’t. All you knew of the man was the stories told of how much of a rabid dog he was in the heat of battle, that the moment he gets going he’s an ruthless and unstoppable force who smiled in the face of death.

The definition of a monster on the battlefield.

So when you finally met him you were confused, for Benjicot was anything unlike the terrifying man in the stories you’ve been told, but an awkward and somewhat shy man who’s kind smile had you feeling a light floating sensation within your chest. Benjicot Blackwood had to be the sweetest, most kindest nobleman you have ever had the pleasure to meet in the Riverlands. It also didn’t help that he was a handsome man on top of that too, with his beautiful eyes and well structured face, which helped somewhat but wasn’t the most important thing to you in any regard and merely an added attribute.

‘I had a feeling your feet would have you wandered off here.’ He says with a smile that reached his eyes before making himself at home by taking up the space beside you.

‘And a good morrow to you my lord.’ You greet him as you press a soft kiss to his cheek, making your head comfortable against his shoulder, glad that it was him who had found you rather than some wandering stranger. Ben sighs as he feels himself relax beneath your sweet affection, resting his head atop of yours as his hand reaches to intertwined with yours, a reminder that this was real and that you were real because to Ben you felt more of a dream then anything on most days and he didn’t wish to wake from this dream if it meant being by your side. ‘How many times have I told you to just call me Ben.’ Ben asks you softly, pressing a kiss to your head, already knowing the answer but just wanted an excuse to hear your voice.

You shifted to look him in the eyes and smile. ‘Too many to count?’

‘Too many to count indeed.’ Ben echoed in a lighthearted tone. ‘I swear you do this just to provoke me my darling.’ He adds as he looks at you just as the light catches his eye from between the leaves of the tree you sought shade under, making him appear more beautiful than he already was as you felt his calloused hand gently caress the back of your hand. It was strange, knowing that the man of the many stories and had the rough hands that further proved those stories of his unkept rage in battle true, could ever hold something or someone as gently and as softly as he did you.

You kiss his cheek again, finding it increasingly difficult to not grasp his face and kiss him on those plush lips of his, your silently cursed Ben for making you feel like that as you found yourself pressed further into his side, looking at him as though he had hung the stars in the sky in your honour. ‘Why would you say such a thing my lord?’ You said innocently enough but the spark of desire within Ben’s eyes were evident as he moved to rest his head against yours while he whispers huskily.

‘For you are well aware enough of the effect it has over me when it’s coming from your lips specifically.’

Before you could say anything in response a group of Brackens had came out of seemingly nowhere, snickering, and the sweet Benjicot Blackwood you had come to fall for was pushed aside for the man you’ve heard tales of as he moved to stand up in response of seeing his house rival.

‘Mind fucking off back home Bracken.’ Ben practically spat the name as though it were poison in his mouth.

‘Why? So you and your little beloved can have a little moment of privacy?’ The man in Bracken house colours said humourlessly as he looked over Ben’s shoulder to look at you. ‘Why ain’t you a pretty thing, Blackwood here is lucky to have you warm his bed I’m sure of it.’ You fought back the urge to smack the vile looking grin off of his face that brought forth a rage you didn’t know you had.

Ben must’ve felt your anger from where he stood as he moved himself so that he was in the Bracken’s line of sight, staring him down with a glare that contrasted the softness that was seemingly only reserved for your eyes only, or anyone that wasn’t a Bracken that was. ‘Keep my lady’s name out your fucking mouth.’ He seethed, jaw tense as his clenched his fists, readying himself for the inevitable fight that was about to come.

The dirty blonde haired man looked at Ben as though asking with his eyes if he was being serious and almost burst out laughing when he saw the look of pure rage encompass his entire face. ‘Oh, oh you’re being serious? Is Blackwood getting mad that his lady might have wandering eyes?’ Ben took a sharp inhale at the thought of this cunt being anywhere near you, his most dearest. The man was trying to get under his skin and he was succeeding, he knew he was in the way Ben looked more and more like a man on the verge of snapping.

Testing his luck, the dirty blonde from house Bracken took a step closer towards Ben but before his foot could touch ground or his words leave his mouth, Ben already had him tackled to the ground within a heartbeat and punching the absolute shit out of him; all the while as his little friends ran away scared that they’d be next in line, uncaring that their leader was pleading for them to help him.

The fight was severely on sided from what you could see, Ben had already broken the man’s nose and his knuckles were bruised, but in the midst of the all the adrenaline he was feeling in that moment the pain was forgotten as he kept punching the dirty blonde Bracken with the foul mouth, only until he was satisfied with his work and that the Bracken was rendered unconscious.

You didn’t move or say anything as Ben stood over the beaten and bloodied man with a crazed look in his eye, unsure of how to feel, before he looking back at you with that softness and care you came to adore. ‘Are you okay?’ He asks. It wasn’t until now did you see that the Bracken did manage to clip Ben on the mouth with something sharp, causing it to spit the skin and made him bleed, but you couldn’t help but find the sight of Ben in the aftermath of a fight oddly attractive; his chest was heaving, his hair disheveled and his knuckles both bruised and bloodied.

Your silence didn’t sit right with Ben as his brows furrowed and a lump in his throat formed as he crossed over to you, holding your face in his hands, snapping you out of your daze as you found yourself distributing your face between his beautiful eyes and his busted lip. ‘I didn’t scare you did I?’ He asks, worried of what you’ll say but when you placed your hands over his own, keeping him there as a soft smile graced your lips.

‘Scared? No, oh my gods no Benjicot, you didn’t scare me.’ You reassured him, looking him over in pride and utter adoration, ‘my god you’re anything but scary, my darling you are simply Devine.’ You add sincerely and that was enough for Ben to press his lips to yours despite the cut, licking at your lower lip to deepen the kiss as you happily complied, melting into him as he held you protectively in his arms where nothing could bring you harm.

[skzstannie]

"If only they knew"

SKZ -> Seungmin x fem!reader

genre: frenemies to lovers, slight angst and a little bit of crack (simply because I just can't help myself) wc: ~2,600 cw: none :)

summary: Seungmin never thought his sorry attempt at flirting would crack your shell; if only he knew.

A/N: 2 fics in a row is kinda crazy for me. Go give my Yunho fic a read if you haven't already! Appreciate you guys!

Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!

"Seungmin... I'm giving you three seconds to move your ass over before I freak the fuck out."

"But I'm comfortable right here." You gawk at him, eyes narrowing in annoyance. You see the smirk that forms on his face, and you know from prior experience that means game on.

You turn facing forward again, acting nonchalant. When just enough time has past, and the storm has calmed, you forcefully shove his shoulder, pushing him clear off the bench.

"Come on guys, do we really always have to do this? It's getting old," Chan comments from where he's sat across from you.

Your friend group is currently sat at a large picnic table outside on your university campus. When it's a nice day such as this one, you all prefer to be outside rather than all cramped together in your school's lunch court.

"Yea, Y/n, maybe you should try being nice to me for once, ya know? Pick on someone your own size; I think the ant I just crushed would be a more suitable match for you," Seungmin snarks back, standing up from the ground, brushing the dirt and grass from his backside.

Immediately you lunge at him once again, only to be pulled back by Lee Know who's sat on your other side.

"Okayyy, I think we should go for a nice walk, hmm? How does that sound?" He grabs your arm, pulling slightly.

"Sure, right after I pound his face in," you say, wrenching your arm out of the tight grip Lee Know has on you. Before you get very far, Hyunjin springs up from the other end of the table and grabs your hand, leading you in the opposite direction of Seungmin.

You turn back once more, wanting to finish what you started, but Lee Know is right behind you. He pushes you forward, preventing you from going back. "Walk," he says sternly. You huff but do as he says anyway, knowing you need to calm down before facing everyone, specifically the ant squasher, again.

"I just don't understand," you start, throwing your hands up in the air, "Was he just born with a personal vendetta against me? Or did he have a dream where I offended his entire ancestry? I just don't get why it's always me; I'm always his target," you vent.

"I don't really get it either, none of us do," Hyunjin agrees, walking beside you. Lee Know flanks your other side, and you guys continue to walk towards the trail that leads around your campus.

This is pretty much a weekly occurrence at this point, emotionally cooling off walking these sidewalks. The scenery is beautiful, and you like being able to appreciate the nature walks your school has to offer, you just wish it were under different circumstances.

"I think he just likes your reactions the most. That, and I don't think he's as scared of you," Lee Know comments.

"What's there not to be scared of? I can be scary!" You tell them.

"What have you ever done that was remotely scary?" Hyunjin snorts, only adding more fuel to your fire.

"Oh really? What about that time I hid in your dorm with that Scream mask on and scared you so bad that you peed your pants? If you weren't scared, I guess I need a better definition," you sass back, nudging him slightly.

"That was one time!" He whines back.

"And we're never letting you forget it," Lee Know chuckles, the memory playing clear as day in his head. "But I have to agree, he knows that he can get away with pretty much anything with you."

"Well, if you guys would've let me give him a good knuckle sandwich back there, maybe he'd think differently."

"It's not worth it. Every time he gets a reaction out of you, he wins. He gets what he wants. That simple." Hyunjin points out.

As the three of you round the last building you pass on your walk, the commons come back into view, and you see the rest of your friends, sans Seungmin, Chan, and Jeongin, still sat at your usual spot.

Lee Know and Hyunjin continue to conversate beside you, but you zone out, thinking if only they knew.

~ ~ ~

"You could be a little nicer to her, ya know," Chan says, pulling into the driveway of the dorms.

"Why would I do that when I can annoy her?"

"Because one of these times you're gonna go too far and she's gonna hate you. Is that really what you want?" He questions, putting the car in park to really get a good look at him.

It's silent for a moment, before Chan speaks up again. "What is it with her? Has she done something to you that the rest of us don't know about? Please enlighten me, let me in on the secret, because me and the rest of the guys are honestly so lost."

"He likes her."

Chan whips his head around to the backseat where Jeongin is casually scrolling along on his phone.

"That's bullshit," Seungmin counters immediately. Chan turns back to Seungmin, and if it wasn't for the blush starting to adorn his cheeks, he might've actually believed.

"Tell me this is a joke. Tell me you don't treat her like complete shit just because you have a crush on her? What, am I living a real life middle school TV drama?" He exasperates, eyebrows raised to the sky.

"Well sorry that some of us don't know how to properly express our feelings; we weren't all born with perfect genes like you, Chan," Seungmin retorts, reaching for the door handle.

"Oh no you don't." Chan's quick to hit the child lock, forcing him to stay right where he is. "I'm not expecting you to be a perfect flirt, but at least treat her with some decency! The girl's never going to get the hint if you keep treating her the way you do."

"That's the point. I don't want her to get the hint."

"What? Why?" He questions.

"Because he doesn't think she would ever like him back," Jeongin once again speaks up from the backseat.

"Shut the fuck up," Seungmin says, quickly reaching into the backseat to do who knows what to Jeongin.

"Hey! Enough!" Chan yells, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him back around. "Why do you think that?"

"Have you seen the way she acts when I'm around?"

"It's because you're a raging asshole! Not because of who you really are," Chan argues, his voice becoming sincere. "Treat her nicely and see what happens. You're not stuck in whatever loop you've created; break this cycle. She really isn't one to hold grudges, which you should be really thankful for right about now."

"There's no way she'd ever see me as anyone other than the annoying guy who hangs out with the rest of her friends," Seungmin huffs as he stares at his fidgeting hands resting in his lap.

"Now you know that's a lie. Even though she wants to bash your skull in 50% of the time, she still considers you her friend. That I am positive of," Chan reassures him. "And don't worry about anything else."

"And why is that?"

"Because, we're gonna figure out how to get you two together"

~ ~ ~

"I just don't know what to do, Yuna," you say to your friend on the phone. You're sat on your bed, doing homework and drinking a coffee from the shop on campus.

You share a dorm with Hyunjin, Lee Know, and Jisung, but you know none of them are home at the moment. They're all either busy with work or should be in class. Carelessly, you left your door open ajar. Just wide enough for a wandering Lee Know, who just happened to skip class that afternoon, to pick up on the conversation.

Now, he wouldn't normally be one to eavesdrop on your conversations, especially when it's with one of your girlfriends, however, when it's about their resident devil puppy, he just can't help himself.

It's quiet for a moment before you speak up again, and Lee Know has to practically pick his jaw up off the floor.

"Of course not, I could never tell any of them, especially Seungmin, that I like him. The rest of the guys would probably think I had some mild case of Stockholm Syndrome, and Seungmin would laugh in my face so hard he'd probably give himself a hernia."

As much as he wants to barge into your room, grab you by the shoulders and shake you for keeping this vital information from him, he keeps his cool and saunters away from your door with the newfound tip.

~ ~ ~

"Guess what?" Lee Know and Chan say at the same time, both sitting down for their first lecture of the day.

"You can go first," Chan says, digging through his backpack to grab his laptop.

"Y/n likes Seungmin."

Chan chokes on his own spit with how fast he turns his head. He coughs for a moment, Lee Know dramatically patting him on the back. Finally, he gets his bearings back and he takes a deep breath.

"Seungmin likes Y/n, too."

"No fucking way! These two idiots. Why can't they just act like normal people and flirt properly," Lee Know says, laughing at the ridiculous situation.

"I don't know, but we've gotta find a way to get them together."

"How? Y/n doesn't even know I know! I overheard her talking on the phone," he admits.

"Jeongin told me on the way home from lunch yesterday. Apparently the little sneak has known for a while but using it as blackmail against Seungmin."

"Sounds about right," Lee Know laughs, "We'll tell the rest of the guys, though, someone's sure to be able to come up with a plan between the 7 of us."

Chan sends him a look of confusion. "Have you met our friends?"

"Believe me, I have, but I have faith in them. We're all sick and tired of their constant bickering, it's time for a real change around here."

~ ~ ~

"And then she said..." you start, walking down the hallway with Lee Know.

Lee Know distractedly nods, waiting for the signal from Changbin down the hall. Seconds later, Changbin gives him a discrete thumbs up, and the plan commences.

"Hey, there's Changbin! Let's go say- Hey!" you yell as you're pushed into the janitor's closet just to the left. Lee Know makes sure you're all the way in before slamming the door right in your face.

"What's the big idea?" you yell, banging your fists on the door.

"They're not gonna let you out."

You let out a startled screech, quickly turning around to come face to face with Seungmin. "What the hell is this? What are you doing in here?" you ask.

"I don't know, but I've already tried to escape twice, and both times I was caught and dragged right back in here by Chan or Changbin, they're like fucking watchdogs or something." He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans casually up against the concrete wall.

"What are we supposed to do in here? Let us out!" You cry out, once again banging your fists against the door.

"Confess your love for each other then we'll let you go," you hear Lee Know say, his voice coming through muffled through the door.

Your eyes widen in shock, not expecting him to say that at all. Defensively, you whip back around to face Seungmin, hoping your blush doesn't give you away. "I don't know what he's talking about."

Seungmin, feeling cornered, agrees, "Me neither. Definitely no idea what he's referring to."

You turn to look at the wall to your right, suddenly feeling embarrassed of the hot red complexion coating your cheeks and neck.

Seconds turn into minutes, and you realize it's never felt this awkward between the two of you. Yes, you may fight... a lot. The constant bickering that flows between the two of you is noisy, never letting a quiet moment pass. You decide it's uncomfortable, the silence thats encompassing the closet, but the thought of confessing trumps any feelings of discomfort.

"I don't hear any kissing in there!" You hear Jisung yell from the outside. "Yah, hurry this up! I wanna go eat lunch." That would be Jeongin.

"We're just gonna sit in silence until you let us out! We're not playing into whatever fantasies you weirdos have running through your heads!" Seungmin yells back, sliding his back down the wall until he hits the floor. You do the same, moving into the corner away from the door, scared that someone will barge in.

Again, you sit in silence. Seungmin has pulled out his phone, and you've done the same at this point. Suddenly, the door whips open, revealing an impatient looking Lee Know.

"That's it," he says determinedly, "I've had enough."

He stomps over to you, taking your hands and pulling you to your feet.

He pulls you in front of him and holds you in place, his hands resting on your arms.

"Oh Seungmin," he says, his voice a ridiculous high pitch, "I've liked you since forever, and even though you're an asshole I still have a massive crush on you," he finishes. You're stunned to say the least, your jaw dropping to the floor at the confession Lee Know just made.

You turn around, prepared to slap him, but he moves quickly, clearing his throat as he makes his way over to Seungmin. He yanks him off the floor, much less gently than he treated you, and starts again. "Oh Y/n," he says, his voice comically deep, "I like you too, will you be my girlfriend?"

He steps out from behind Seungmin and bows, as if expecting applause for his outrageous performance. "Ok, now that the hard part's out of the way, please continue." He nonchalantly leaves the closet, and the door slams closed behind him.

You're left speechless, staring at the floor. Tears build up in your lashes, realizing your biggest secret, one you've been holding onto for years, was just spilled in front of the one who mattered most. It's stupid really, crying over something as silly as this. But for all the emotional turmoil you've gone through over this, you had always hoped it'd have a greater outcome than this. Being rejected in a janitor's closet is not exactly at the top of your list for things to accomplish in life.

Seungmin, hating the way you're upset, takes initiative and steps towards you.

The tears fall freely as embarrassment continues to color your face. "Honestly," you sniffle, bringing your sleeve up to swipe at your cheeks, "Go ahead and make fun of me now. Get it over with; I can take it."

Your words fly right over his head, as the only thing going through his mind are the ridiculous words that came out of Lee Know's mouth. Could it be true?

His shoes come into your view, and you feel his warm hands gently cup your jaw. He lifts your head, and you make eye contact with him for the first time since you were forced into the closet.

"Is that true?" He asks, the sincerest look adorning his eyes.

You hesitate, scared for what he'll do, of what he'll say. "I suppose it depends," you decide on. "Was what he said true about you?"

"It was, actually," he admits, using his thumbs to wipe the remainder of the stray tears that fell down your face. "I was just never mature enough to admit it myself."

"Well, in that case," your hands come up to grab onto his wrists, "I suppose that it is true."

It's quiet now, the only sound being the soft breaths escaping from both of your mouths.

You watch as his eyes shift down to your lips, tracing over the features of your face.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispers, his hands still softly cupping your jaw.

"Please," you respond. With that, he leans in, and your eyes close as your lips connect with his. You move in sync, and it's better than you could've imagined.

It's short and sweet, but it gets the point across. He likes you back.

"I just want you to know," he starts once you've separated a bit. His hands have moved down to rest around your waist now, yours resting on his chest, "I'm still gonna tease you."

"I wouldn't want it any other way," you say before crashing your lips against his once again, savoring the feeling.

[beomiracles]

𝓐 𝓑𝐀𝐑𝐆𝓐𝐈𝐍 𝓞𝐅 𝓓𝓔𝐀𝐓𝐇

DREAM ENTRY ⸝⸝ The dead speak to you. Through tears and through desperate pleas. When they aren't begging of you to release them from their personal hell, they warn you, they warn you of them. You are no fool, and you heed the spirit's fearful words. But when the single person whose life you value above your own is put at risk, you turn to find solace within the very beings who may take it — the cloaked. ⸝⸝

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 13k(?) ་༘࿐

𝓹airing vampire!beomgyu x psychic!reader (f) [ featuring — coven!txt ] 𝔀arnings death, ghosts/spirits, sleep paralysis, terminal diseases, malnourishment, blood & blood sacrifices + drinking, coercion, eventual smut (probably), 1300s au — more tba..

✎𓂃 I've been itching to get back to this fic for over a month now ! I think I've finally worked up both the time and motivation for it as well and I'm super duper excited ! so far I'm 3k in and I really love how it's looking — my regular taglist applies as always (dark cont.) but if you're not on it and want to be tagged for this specifically let me know !

RELEASE DATE (spoiler, im terrible at these) -> 15th April

teaser under the cut <3

A desperate father stumbles down the empty street. He’s crying, tears streaming down his dirty face. He carries a child in his arms. His son. The child is weak, undoubtedly another victim of the plague. His face is a yellowish hue, his eyes drooping and his head lulled back as he lays limp in his father’s grasp. 

The father screams, he shouts, almost overpowering the sorrowful cries in your head. Everyone is watching, some peeking through their windows, others peering out between the crack of their doors. No one offers him help. It is strange how selfish the human becomes when reduced to nothing. How blind they act toward the same pain they themselves are suffering. 

You regard the man as he makes his way down the street, and only when you realize that he’s heading for the house atop the hill do your eyes widen. His legs tremble as he fights his way up, his arms looking as though they are about to give in any second now. Yet he persists. — His fist slams against the door, his desperate plea echoing over rooftops. 

No one would answer. Who would want to take on a sick child, who would want to watch such a pitiful death? — But the old door glides open, and you watch in bewilderment as the father stumbles inside. 

Tension hangs in the air, one so thick that a hot knife would be needed to cut through it. You wait, pacing your small living room with short and quick steps. Hours pass, you wonder if the boy had died already. It could take a night, sometimes two. The plague forced a slow death upon its victims, making them suffer for as long as their body could take it. 

You glance toward the house in search of him, wishing and hoping for his return. You barely knew the man, yet you worried for him, you worried for his life. That feeling of death, it had yet to leave. Those cloaked men, they carried something stronger than the plague, something deadlier, and that father had been a fool not to see it sooner. 

Alas, he returns that evening. And your jaw plummets to the floor when you see him exit the house. He holds his son by the hand as they walk down the hill. The boy is skipping forward on two healthy legs, a wide smile on his face. He was no longer yellow, his eyes no longer drooped. He looked… perfectly fine. 

It was a miracle. 

Soon after that, people dared emerge from the prison they called home. One by one they ventured to the house on the hill, and all came back cured. Still, the queasy feeling in your stomach lingers as all the more seek out the cloaked men. — Had you been the only one to notice the father’s pale condition as he returned with his son? 

[haetrack]

spur of the moment (ldh) | pt. 2

please read part 1 before reading to better understand the story!

haechan x afab!reader

wc: 10k (...)

warnings: MDNI, fluff and (mostly) smut, dirty thoughts, inexperienced!haechan, a first hangout, reader finds fleshlight, handjob, handjob with a fleshlight, mention of a dildo, ruined orgasm, slight nipple play, dirty talk, they are both very shameless and perverts, fingering, unprotected sex (NOOO!!!), no clear dynamics but they both talk so much, they like it a lot

a/n: happy new years everyone! first fic of the year will be part two! thank u all so much for the support on the first part! i enjoyed writing this and i hope u guys like it as much as i do… please let me know what u guys think!!

the next day, haechan debates on whether or not he wants to go to class.

it doesn’t help that you came out in his dream, squirming under him and asking to be filled up by his cock. it’s nothing he hasn’t experienced (he’s not a pervert, he swears), but after last night, it all feels new to him. the thought of being so close to you and not being able to do anything about it makes him feel a little crazy. then again, he can always just ask you to hang out.

it’s really not that easy, he thinks. you’re kinda way out of his league and he wonders if you even remember his name. you seem to talk to a select few in your shared class, which makes haechan wonder why you chose to talk to him that specific morning. it wasn’t serious or anything, but he wishes he would have seemed a little cooler. curse his only-shy-on-first-meetings self.

today is slightly different though, when he enters the classroom five minutes before, he doesn’t see you in your normal spot, laptop out and your journal filled with handwritten notes in front of you. he scans the room to realize that you’re not even there. he feels relieved yet disappointed as he takes his seat. he swears that he had enough confidence to talk to you today, but it turns out he won’t be able to live it out.

once he settles with that thought, a minute before the class starts, the door slams open and you rush in. realizing that your seat has been taken by someone else, you look for any empty seats. there’s only one close to the front.

while haechan lazily scrolls through his phone, he realizes someone is rushing down his row, stopping right at the empty seat next to him. he looks up to see you smiling down at him, “can i sit here, haechan?”

his whole body goes rigid, mouth slightly open as he stares at you for a moment too long. you look away at his intense eye contact, to which he notices and quickly motions for you to sit down. you thank him quietly, moving fast to get yourself set up. while you’re setting up, you accidentally bump your arm against his, causing his breath to hitch. you take it as slight annoyance, “sorry haechan!” you send an easy smile towards him, but that only reminds him of last night.

he can’t focus throughout the lecture. you’re sitting right next to him, minding your business, all while dirty thoughts of you and him replay in his mind. he wonders if you would reach over and whisper in his ear, begging to let you touch him during class. the back of his neck feels hot, and he tries to stop the blush that threatens to form on his cheeks. he would rather die than get horny in class.

he takes a few deep breaths, trying to focus on his professor droning on about utilitarianism. he takes a peek over at you scribbling down notes. you have a slight frown on your face coming from how hard you’re focusing on writing down notes. your focus breaks when you feel a pair of eyes on you, and you turn to look at haechan. he immediately turns to typing his notes on his laptop, and you can see how his skin has turned a pretty shade of pink on his cheeks.

you’ve had your eyes on him since you asked him how his morning was. you found it cute how he stuttered when you asked, trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with you. later that night, you tried to search him on instagram, and lo and behold, there he was, a private account with 90 followers to his name. you decided to hold off from talking to him, seeing if he would ever make a move on you.

now that you can visibly see how nervous he is just by you sitting next to him, you know you have to do something about it. you can’t wait until class ends. 

when class ends, haechan tries to see how fast he can make his escape. completely ignoring how he stood in front of his mirror this morning planning what he wanted to say to you, he wonders if he could just slip past you. he shoves his laptop into his backpack and tries to beeline out the door as soon as his professor ends class. 

before he can make it out though, a hand grabs his arm, and he turns to look down at you. a sickly sweet smile adorned on your face as you ask, “what are you going to do after class, haechan?”

it’s as if you could see right through him, his actions from last night plastered on his face as he answers you, “um, i was probably going to go back to my apartment to look over today's notes…” a complete lie, he was going to go back to his apartment to think about his utter failure today. maybe even get off to the thought of you again, how nice it felt to have you so close, how you basically touched him today, how sweet your smile was.

“that’s perfect actually! i wanted to ask if you wanted to go over the lecture together. you seemed a little distracted today,” you let out a small laugh, seeing how different his demeanor was while you were next to him. he wanted to look cool in front of you, but instead you saw how shy he was. he was so loud with his friends, but with new people, especially with someone like you, he couldn’t help being like this.

“yeah, that’s- i can do that with you,” he’s not really looking at you, and when he gets up, he tries not to invade your personal space. you remove your hand from him and he wishes he could grab it back. he wishes he could intertwine his hand with yours and show everyone that you’re his. but for now, he follows you out of class like a lost puppy. 

“i would invite you over to my place,” he stops in his tracks and you look back at him, “but i have a roommate there right now.” he feels a little disappointed. he would’ve liked to see your room, be surrounded by your smell, to have you so close to him. then again, he’s not sure if he’d be able to hold back. as soon as you’d come close to him in your private space, he’d probably get hard on the spot.

he rushes to at least hold open the door for you, and you cock your head to the side and ask, “what about you? would it be okay to go to your place?”

you’re both standing there in the hallway of your class’s building. he thinks about it, he really tries to think of it. theres pros and cons to you being in his apartment. pros: you’d be there, and in the comfort of his own space, he’d feel a bit more confident. cons: you’d be there, he’s not sure how he’d feel about you being in the area where he just fucked a fleshlight thinking of you.

he messes with his fingers and bites the inside of his cheek, thinking about what he should do. he lets out a small breath and quietly says, “you can come over. i live by myself, so we can study there.”

you grin at his words, happy that you were able to persuade him. you’ve seen him talk to his friends, always leading the conversation, always making them laugh. so to see him rendered like this makes you wonder what he’s hiding. you can tell he likes you, but there’s something under his embarrassment, something he would never tell anyone. you'll find out today one way or another.

“did you come walking here? because i did,” you ask.

“no, i get here by car…” his sentence trails off and you give him a questioning look. his mouth opens and closes before he says, “would you like me to drive you?”

you laugh at him, your shoulder bumping into him, making him flinch a little. “i would love that.”

a shy smile appears on his face and you can’t help but smile back at him. he leads you to his car while you try to make small talk with him. you ask how the class has been for him, ask if living alone is nice, ask about his hobbies. he answers in short sentences, frustrated with himself for not being able to match your energy. he knows he can carry conversation, his own friends telling him he needs to learn how to shut up, but he just can’t do it now. he’s too concerned with his own thoughts.

he wonders if people are looking at the two of you heading to the parking lot. he wonders if you both look like a couple, talking like you both have known each other for a long time. haechan knows he wouldn’t normally be seen with someone like you, someone who seems too good for him. if he would tell his friends who he’s with right now, he’s sure that they’d call him a liar.

none of that really matters though, not when you’re walking side by side with him, your comforting personality putting him at ease. he’s sure that as long as he gets more chances to talk to you, he’d be able to comfortably talk to you. he feels good with you here, but it’s hard to ignore the little twinge of guilt at the back of his head. he tries to pretend he wasn’t furiously masturbating to the thought of you the night before, but it’s hard to ignore.

he unlocks his car and invites you in, and you happily call shotgun even if no one else is around. even though he’s nervous, he tries to start the conversation first, “you can put on music if you want, it’s not too far of a drive anyways.” 

“i think i’m good, i’d rather talk to you more than anything,” you say with a sly smile. he feels a small blush form on his face. he can tell you notice it too when you chuckle at him, he covers his face with his hands. while you’re laughing at him, you put your hand down on his thigh. he immediately sits straight up, probably- no, definitely, red all over. he starts the car as fast as he can to try to stop thinking about how warm your hand was on his thigh.

it’s only twenty minutes, he thinks, twenty minutes of being trapped in a small space with you. you just touched him, and now it feels hard for him to breathe in his own car. the thought of fucking you in the backseat of his car creeps into his mind, and he feels relieved that you can’t secretly read his mind. you would both rush to the back, your hot touch all over as you fervently grind down onto him.

he can feel his dick begin stirring in his sweats, and he remembers you are quite literally sitting right there next to him. he’s scared to look at you, scared you’ve found out that he’s kind of a freak when it comes to you. but when he looks, he’s greeted by the simple sight of you staring out the window, your cheek resting on your hand. it puts him at ease, makes him want to reach over to your other hand and hold onto it.

he realizes he likes seeing this version of you. you look so calm, free from the stress of lecture, relaxed by the view of the pretty scenery around you. he smiles at you, admiring you from afar, despite the close distance you two share. he lets go of the breath he was holding, wills his away semi-hardon, and clears his throat. “can i ask why you wanted to talk to me today?”

“i’m not really sure either,” you answer honestly, “i’ve talked to a few people in class but none of them interest me as much as you do.” haechan isn't really sure what you mean yet, so he waits for you to continue. before you do though, you move out of the position you’ve been in, arms stretching in front of you. what seems so innocent deems quite differently for haechan. he sees how your boobs are pushed together, a small moan slipping out of your lips. he has to look away for a moment.

“i think it has to do with the fact that i know how much you stare at me.” you answer, shifting your body to face him.

he immediately spills out apologies, “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! you just happen to sit in front of me so- i didn't-”

it’s your turn to apologize, “no! i didn’t say i didn’t like it,” his head whips to look at you for a moment, “it’s just, you never came up to me, never said hi, just stared.” he feels his face heat up, realizing he wasn’t as discreet as he thought he was. all the time he spent daydreaming about you in class never went unnoticed, he simply was too lost in his fantasies to realize you were staring right back. “i always wondered what you were thinking, for a second i even thought you hated me.”

he shakes his head, one that feels like it’s saying that he could never hate you. “what’s your major?” he questions.

“psychology.” you smirk and he immediately nods, knowing fully well you can probably read him like an open book. you laugh hard at this, and haechan realizes how much he likes hearing you laugh, hearing how you’re laughing at his jokes. he realizes he’s getting in too deep when he doesn’t just have these sexual thoughts about you, but also thoughts of just being around you feel like they’re enough.

“we’re almost there, just a few more minutes,” haechan says, and he kind of wants you both to stay like this in the comfort of his car. he’s used to it now, talking to you in this small bubble. he feels a little less shy, a little more like the man he thought he was last night.

“that’s good,” a yawn cuts you off, “i was getting a little tired of being in here.”

“getting bored of me that fast?” he teases, happy with how he’s opening up.

you softly laugh, “no, it’s just that i fell asleep kinda late last night. kept thinking about this essay i don’t know how to start.”

he hums at that, “no, i get it. i was up late last night, too.” and as soon as he says it, he regrets it. there’s a small chance you might ask him what he was doing, but there’s also a big chance you might just agree and move on. he hopes, he prays that you could just talk about that essay-

“what were you up to so late?” you ask, no harm behind your words.

he feels hot at the back of his neck, his grip tightens on the wheel as he tries to come up with an answer. well, he knows what the answer is, fucking a fleshlight to the thought of you, but he can’t exactly say that. “well- there was- no, still is-” he takes a breath before speaking again, “there’s a special event for this game i play online. i was stuck at my desk all day,” he nervously laughs, trying to deflect his own thoughts. 

you brush past his words, seemingly convinced, “you’ll have to teach me how to play sometime.”

he nods, smiling due to the image in his head. buying another gaming chair, seated right next to you as you clumsily press down on the keys on his keyboard. he’ll groan in frustration with you when you die, he’ll laugh when you absolutely miss a shot, he'll celebrate your first win. he’ll plant a messy kiss to your cheek as you thank him for teaching you. he’ll do it all.

he lets you know which is his apartment complex, “it’s not anything crazy, but it’s done what it needs to do.”

“i’m sure it’s fine, probably better than how my roommate leaves the apartment looking,” you joke, and he wonders if you’d say yes if he asked you to move in one day. of course, he knows this is literally the first day he's talked to you, but he can’t keep these feelings from floating around in his head. 

he parks his car and you both head inside. it’s relatively silent, save for the small gasp you let out at how the inside looks nice. once you make it to the elevator, he presses the seventh floor button. he didn’t really think about it before, but he realizes how nice you smell. if you were already dating, he’d hold you in a backhug, pressing his nose to your neck, inhaling your scent as the elevator rolls up. but for now, all he can do is rock back and forth on his heels as he waits for the elevator doors to open, freeing his mind from your scent.

you both safely make it to his apartment and he fishes out his keys from his jacket pocket. he unlocks the door, holding it open for you as you thank him and step inside. he flicks on the light switch and you stand there, taking in his apartment.

it’s simple enough for a man in college. it reflects how you see him, and you can’t help the grin that forms on your face, “this is just like you, haechan.”

he’s a little nervous, hands slightly sweaty seeing you in his apartment, “good or bad?”

“good! it also smells nice in here.”

your comment surprises him a little. he doesn’t really use any candles or sprays, which sounds gross, but he also doesn’t leave his place messy. he doesn’t like artificial scents, too much for his nose and gives him small headaches. as far as he’s concerned, what you’re smelling is purely him. this realization makes his heart beat a little faster, the back of his neck becoming hot.

“thank you,” a genuine smile crosses his face, and you beam back at him, “you can put your stuff here, we can study here in the living room.” 

you move to sit in front of the small coffee table next to his couch. you look nice in his place, like you’ve always been there. you unload your items, looking up to him and patting the spot right next to you. “i’m gonna go to my room really quick, i just need to check on something.”

you playfully tell him to hurry and he salutes you, trotting to his room. he quietly locks the door and assesses the state of his room. it’s not horribly messy, so he leaves it be. his conscious tells him to go to the restroom and freshen up a little. he looks at himself in the mirror, his face reflecting back at him. he remembers last night, in this exact spot, wishing you were there with him as he got off to you. except now, you’re here, and he feels a little guilty.

he moves to wash his hands and splatters some water in his face. he huffs, then messes with his hair, trying to make it look a little better for you. when he feels ready, he walks out of the restroom, and takes one last peek into his room. though he was begging for your touch last night, he’s content just with your presence here, happy that you decided on your own that you wanted to be here with him. 

when haechan meets you back in his living room, it feels natural. he softly calls out your name and you turn around, a smile already plastered on your face. he smiles back, moving to the spot right next to you. it’s nerve wracking being so close to you, but for your sake, he pushes his nerves back as far as he can. 

for the next hour, you both sit there talking about what was discussed during the lecture. it turns out he did in fact miss quite a lot of notes, having to sheepishly copy down the ones you’ve written. you lightly scold him for not paying attention, and he can’t help let his mind wander to how you might scold him during sex.

he also can’t help but just be a little distracted. nodding along to your words while his eyes trail down to your lips. how your thigh is pressed snugly against his. how your hands brush over his while you explain your notes to him. he’s not sure if you’re doing this on purpose, but his deprived mind can’t help but hope. haechan is enamored with you, he wishes he could kiss you right here, pull you onto his lap and just enjoy how close you are to him.

after a few more minutes, you stretch just as you did in the car, which makes haechan clear his throat. “fifteen minute break, haechan,” you remind him while fighting back a yawn.

“do you want anything to eat or drink? i just realized i never even offered you anything when you came in,” haechan frowns, causing you to giggle from your end. you stand up from your place and stretch your arms up, causing the bottom of your top to ride up, exposing your midriff. his breath gets caught in his throat as he just stares, all the way until your soft skin is hidden once more.

“i think i’m good for now,” the way you’re looking at him makes him feel like he was caught staring, “but maybe just the restroom?”

“yeah, um, it’s connected to my bedroom so i’ll just… show you the way.” his hands are getting sweaty again. he tries to hide how guilty he feels, and if you were to put your palm to his cheek, you would feel how warm he was.

he leads you to his bedroom while you trail behind him. you smile to yourself with how nice he’s being with all this, showing you how much he likes you. you’re about to see his room, something that could be considered private for a lot of people. you put your focus back to him, staring at how broad he looks from the back. if only he could turn around and see how badly you want him too.

he opens the door for you, and you gasp out in amazement, pulling a shy giggle out of haechan. you don’t miss how shaky his hand is when he reaches for the door handle, “the restroom is over here, i can wait back in the living room if you’d like.”

“no, it’s fine! wait for me out here so you can give me a room tour when i’m done,” you say before closing the door. as soon as it’s closed, he starts freaking out. he’s room looks fine, but it just… doesn’t feel fine? he’s so scared that there might be something out of place, even if he knows it looks fine. he calms himself down and moves to sit down on his gaming chair. while he waits for you, he practices what he wants to say while giving you a mini tour of his room.

once you come out, you spot him lounging on his chair. he looks so good when he’s in his natural state, different from the haechan you’re used to seeing in class. when he meets your eyes, he looks a little nervous, but puts on a more confident demeanor.

“are you ready for this?” he asks, and you nod excitedly at his words, “so there’s my bed, my gaming setup, closet, dresser, and tv. boom. done.”

you laugh hard at him, “there’s no way!”

he’s laughing alongside next you, body leaning into you without even knowing, “i did what you asked! it’s not my fault i’m a simple man with simple needs.” 

“so like, no explanation or anything? just an ‘i live here’ kinda vibe?” 

“exactly, this is pure vibes. nothing more and nothing less.” your body presses against his side while you’re laughing, and he just lets it happen. he’s glad that he’s beginning to be more comfortable around you. he lets you walk around a bit, let’s you hover over his desk, too scared to touch anything on it. 

“show me the game you were talking about! i can’t believe you let me take away some of your precious gaming time by coming over.” you say, motioning for him to sit down on his chair again.

he obliges, sitting down on his chair and turns on his computer. “i’d only do that for special occasions, so… i had to do it this time, too.” he doesn’t look at you when he says it, but you can tell he’s embarrassed by his own words, his ears turning red.

once the game boots up, he lets you know about the basics of overwatch and its seasonal events. he swears that he’s good at the game and that you would end up a pro player if you let him teach you. even though he’s explaining all this to you, you don’t really get all the terms he’s saying. you’re just happy that he’s letting you in on his hobbies. 

while he’s going through the tutorial for you, your attention turns back to his room. it feels like him, very simple decoration and a gray-scale color scheme fill his room. you can tell he spends most of his time at his desk, more decorated and colorful than any other part of his room. when you scan his room one last time, you spot a picture frame on his nightstand. you quietly slip away from his lecturing of the game.

haechan doesn’t realize it, but at some point, you moved away from him. it isn’t until he hears a loud woah! and a small thump, to which he turns around and spots you by his bed, holding onto the edge of it to hold your balance. he feels his heart thump in his chest, you being too close to his bed for comfort.

“you okay?” haechan asks, trying to hide how shaky his voice is.

“i’m good, just tripped on something trying to see what was on your nightstand.” and while you're crouched on the floor trying to calm yourself, you see what you tripped on. a corner of a box. you didn’t mean to intrude, but you subconsciously pull it out from under his bed. inside it contained something you never thought you would see. you stand back up, still looking down at the content of the box. 

something doesn’t feel right to haechan. you’re staring down still, a shocked look all over your face. this doesn’t feel right at all. he haphazardly stands up, not sure if he should move towards you or not. “what’s wrong?”

“haechan…” you say his name, your voice coming out a lot quieter and breathier than you mean it to.

he takes a step forward before he sees you reach down, your back now towards him. he says your name quietly and your face turns towards him. “haechan… can i ask you what this is?”

you’re holding his fleshlight. his fleshlight. the fleshlight he quite literally used to cum with last night to the thought of you. he feels dizzy, suddenly unable to breathe. how did you even find that? he swears he hid it back under his bed last night. are you going to hate him? will you think he’s the most disgusting person on the planet?

his thoughts are silenced by your voice, “do you use it, haechan?” you fully face him now, your face devoid of any emotion.

“i don’t- i don’t know what…” he could cry, really. he’s shaking, too scared to form a proper sentence. this feels like the ultimate karma, the person of his desire finding out his secret. you don’t even know what he’s done to it, you don’t know he fucked it with the thought of you in his mind. you creep closer to him, until he falls back into his chair to move away from you. 

you move to stand in front of him, looking down at how he cowers under you. “did it feel good, haechan?” 

“w-what?” his voice is light, breath too heavy. 

“did it feel good fucking it, haechan?” you slowly lower yourself onto his thighs, and he goes rigid under you. he’s not sure how to feel right now, he’s scared but you’re sitting on top of him, waiting patiently for his answer. you know you won’t get it like this though, not when he’s frozen with you on top of him.

“tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop,” your eyes scan his face for any hesitation, and he stares back at you with a dazed look in his eyes. before you know it, he lurches forward and closes the space between you with a kiss. he tries to deepen it, but before any of this can escalate, you say, “not like this, tell me with your words how much you want this.”

“want this,” he tries to lean forward again but you stop him, “want this so bad- want you so bad.” 

you smile, “good answer.”

you lean forward to kiss him, and he feels how close you are to sitting on top of his bulge. he realizes that this is very real, and instead of just fantasizing about it, he can pull you closer, let your warmth sit right on top of his dick as he kisses you. he uses this opportunity to deepen it. he tilts his head a bit more, tongue tracing the inside of your mouth. it’s a bit messy, but you can’t help but like that about haechan.

you’re quick to let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth, his shy demeanor taken over by his desperation. all while this is happening, he begins to move your hips for you, rocking you slowly back and forth onto his dick. a small groan leaves his mouth for the first time today, and you smile sweetly into the kiss. your hands also begin to move, one moving to the side of his neck and the other moving up to his hair.

you can tell he’s running out of breath pretty fast, and when you feel him move away to breathe, you tug lightly onto his hair. what you get is a breathy whine and his hips rutting up into yours. you gasp in surprise, and haechan loves the sound too much to where he excitedly tries to kiss you again. he misses, kissing the corner of your mouth as you giggle at him. he’s not even embarrassed, whatever you enjoy, he’ll like too.

a few minutes pass like this and his hands are still around your hips. they squeeze and push you around, but he doesn’t move them from that spot. you take your hands to the tops of his and move them up so that they’re under your shirt. he pulls his mouth away from you to stare back at you, wordlessly asking if he can touch some more. you nod, and you move to pull off your shirt.

he stares. he’s not shy with it, either. his eyes are fixated on the curves of your body, your chest that's covered by the bra you’re wearing. you’re really everything he dreamt of and more, he thinks. he has no control of his body anymore, so when he moves to settle in the crook of your neck while his hands try to touch as much of you as possible, he doesn’t try to stop it. 

he inhales your scent sharply, presses his nose down onto your neck in order to savor how good you smell. his hands continue moving before they stop underneath the cup of your bra. you whisper for him to take it off, his shaky hands moving to your back. he’s a little confused with how it works, never once having to take it off himself. he keeps trying though, and you think his persistence is cute.

your hands move to your back to help him out, unclasping your bra and letting it slowly slide off of you. haechan takes this in, drinking up the sight of your bare chest. his hands rest at your sides, his body turning against him at the sight of your skin. you laugh at him before pressing a kiss to the pulse point on his wrist, encouraging him to continue. he does, he lets all the pent up frustration from your boobs take over, placing his hands over them, groping lightly.

you arch your back into his touch, moaning out his name. he looks up at you, gauging your reaction when he rolls your nipples in his fingers. he feels you grind down hard onto him, hands moving up onto his biceps and nails digging in. it hurts him a little, but it blends into a light pleasure. you look a mess on top of him, moaning into his ear how good it feels. he’s panting lightly, you being almost too overwhelming for him to handle.

he realizes the dull pain from your nails on his biceps is gone, and his feels your cold fingertips trail under his shirt. his stomach twitches at the feeling, his movement on your chest halting for just a moment. he continues though, moaning out a, “keep touching me. like it so much.”

so you continue. your hands touch over the soft skin of his stomach, feeling the light hairs trailing down to his cock. you feel his pretty waist, having a small grip on it to help placate you. your hands move up to his chest, and you look up at him with puppy eyes, asking if you could slide it off. he nods quickly and removes his shirt for you, letting you have free access to do whatever you want. 

you moan out softly at the sight of his pretty skin. he continues his ministrations on you, and you just stare at his body. you’re almost tempted to just fall completely on him, letting him do whatever he’d want with you. but you still have half a mind, and you look back to his chest. you run your nails along the expanse of the newly exposed skin, his muscles twitching under the feeling. your hands move back up, and the urge to hear him whimper is too high.

haechan thinks he’s on cloud 9 right now, happily rocking into you and touching your chest like he always imagined he would. it’s not until he feels a pinch to his nipples that he lets out a loud whimper followed by your name, hips roughly bucking up into you. you stare at him, getting the exact reaction that you wanted. his arms move to cover his face, and he lets out a weak more, please, much to your excitement. 

your fingers move back to his nipples and he realizes how much he loves this. he’s never done this to himself, nor did it happen the one time he had sex. he lets you work on him, he can tell how much you’re enjoying his reactions. choked back moans and high-pitched whimpers fill the air, his hips mindlessly rutting up into you. he just lets you do whatever you want, and the thought of this fills you with excitement. 

you can feel how hard he is under you. he humps slowly onto you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. it feels good, and if it weren’t for how concentrated you were on his chest, you would’ve already been begging for him to fuck you. the thing is, you can begin to feel him twitch under you. you can tell he’s close, moans of your name and him asking you to continue is all you can hear. you begin rolling your hips onto him again, adding more stimulation on more parts of his body. 

his hands move over to grip your ass, grinding you quickly down on him. he’s moaning straight to your ear, incoherent sentences mumbled out, and as much as you want to cum like this, there’s something else you’d like to do. you let him get close to cumming, you let him dig his blunt nails into you, you let him whimper your name into your ear. right when he’s about to cum, you pull away from him completely. 

“do you trust me?” you ask, pretty smile planted on your face.

haechan can barely hear you, his orgasm being ripped away from him. in one moment, he had your warm body all over him, and in another, it was all taken away. his ears are slightly ringing and his dick is twitch heavily in his sweats, his body aching to be with yours again.

you can tell he didn’t hear what you said, so you put your finger under his chin to make him look straight at you. you repeat your question and he agrees quickly, desperation clearly taken over. you sit on the corner of his bed, asking him to come and sit with you. when he does, laying on his back while sitting up on his elbows, you position yourself to where you’re laying between both of his legs. he looks down at you expectantly, eyes filled with lust and a twinge of love.

you smile sweetly, and you pull out what you were hiding behind your back. his fleshlight.

he groans, almost telling you to put it away in embarrassment. it’s cute that he’s rendered like this because of a toy. you shush him, calming his nerves. “i just wanna make you feel good,” your hand trails up his thigh, dangerously close to his hard cock, “you said you trust me, right?”

seeing you like this, like he’s seen in all his fantasizing and dreaming, he can’t say no to you. not when you’re looking at him so nicely, a soft pout formed on your lips. he wants to reach down and kiss you, but his curiosity wins. what are you going to do?

his question is answered when you rub your hand over his clothed dick, earning you a soft whimper. you know he’s worked up, no use in continuing teasing him when he’s probably on the verge of cumming. you ask if you can take his sweats off, and he immediately moves to take them off for you. he leaves his boxers on, and you can see how hard he is and how he strains against them. you can’t stop the smirk that forms on your face.

he’s breathing heavily and all you’ve done so far are some light touches. he can feel himself leaking when he takes off his sweats, and when he looks down, there’s an embarrassing wet patch of precum on the front of his boxers. he’s thankful you don’t comment on it, but what he doesn’t expect is for you to lean forward and lick at the patch. he moans out, your tongue pushing the fabric roughly against his tip. 

your hand moves to grip his base all while you begin to suckle on his tip. the stimulation is too much, too suddenly, and he bucks his hips into your face. you smile up at him, your eyes seemingly calling him cute. as much as he wants to shove his cock in your mouth already, he lets you take your time, relishing in how long he’s wanted you like this. you can have him for as long as you want, he thinks, he has all the time in the world with you now.

you eventually pull off his boxers, but you move a bit away from him. he gives you a confused look, but your smile puts all his worries away. he’s given you all his trust, letting you do what you want freely. he only freaks out a little when you pull out his fleshlight, a small smile forming on your face when you say, “gonna ask you some questions, i’ll help you feel good if you answer me.”

he nods slowly, and you reach down and squeeze him one last time. before you start, you ask if there’s any lube and he quickly reaches into his nightstand’s drawer to hand it to you. you have to hide back your laugh at how desperate he is as you squeeze lube into the fleshlight. he looks nervous, but it all fades away when you slide the slick fleshlight over his cock.

his tip is at the entrance of the toy when you ask, “why do you have this?”

“d-didn’t buy it. my friend bought it for me on my birthday…”

“your friend must’ve known you were a pervert, hm?” you say as you push the toy slowly down on his length, eliciting a long groan out of him. letting him sit with the feeling.

you ask another question, “you use it, right?” and before he can deny the claim, you interrupt him, “do you think about me when you do?”

the blush on his face darkens and trails down to his neck. his eyes shut, too embarrassed to answer the question that’s already apparent. to his surprise, you begin to move the toy quickly onto him, catching him off guard. his hips stutter forward as his arm reaches to stop your movements. his body is contrasting his own mind, and all you can do is silently laugh. 

“better question,” you say as you continue your attack on him, “have you had sex before?” 

his eyes open to look back down at you, eyes pleading with you to save him from embarrassment. you just shake your head, slowing down your movements to a stop. whines fill the room as he tries to move on his own. you move to pin his hips down, stopping his movements. “answer my questions or i’ll leave so you can cum on your own again.”

a small moan leaves his mouth as he tilts his head back. he refocuses on you, mouth opening, but nothing comes out. you slowly twist the toy at the base of his cock, your other hand moving to fondle his balls. you can tell he’s fighting back from moving without you telling him to, so he tries to let go of all his embarrassment before he speaks again. “i’ve… only had sex once. in freshman year.”

with delight, you begin moving the fleshlight slowly on him again, encouraging him to continue. “i’ve… thought of you.”

he mumbles the last words, and even though you could hear what he said, you ask him to repeat himself clearly. “t-thought of you, fucked my fleshlight thinking of you.”

his words send shivers down your spine, and you resume the quick movements of the toy back onto his dick. he thanks you without question, and in return, you move to press small, wet kisses to the inside of his thighs. his hips fuck up into the toy as you continue your kisses, haechan feeling overwhelmed by your proximity. he’s been so good, so you decide to reward him with some of your own information.

“how would you feel knowing i fucked myself with a toy, too? imagining it was you fucking my tight pussy?” a choked out moan leaves his lips as he begins moving quickly against the toy. “wished you could’ve heard me moaning your name, wished it was you fucking me instead.”

at this point, you’re just holding the toy in place for him. squeezing it around his dick, his hips shoving into it, wishing it was you. he’s close to cumming, he can feel it, his dick throbbing, heart hammering in his chest. he’s about to start begging for you to let him cum, but before he can, you say, “guess that makes us both perverts, huh? i like you just as much as you like me.”

he cums on the spot. you quickly pull the toy off of him, the sight of his cum shooting all over his chest, whimpers of your name mixed with frustration fill the air. you just lay there, laughing at him while he tries to save his ruined orgasm. you pry his hands off of himself and he just shuts his eyes, trying to catch his breath. your tongue reaches out to clean the leftover cum on his tip, and he yelps at the sensation, so you move up to clean the cum off of his chest.

once you finish, you reach up to softly kiss him. it contrasts your previous movements, and he’s stuck thinking about how you said you like him. he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, scared that you didn’t really mean what you said. he lets you kiss him, hands at your waist, lips pressing softly together.

he pushes you onto your back, laying your head softly onto his pillow. he stares at you openly, clad in just your panties. his mouth runs dry, he never thought he’d get to see you like this in his room, looking only at him. his shaky hands reach forward, one resting at your waist while the other reaches for the top of your panties, waiting for you to say he can pull them down. 

you let him, and he does. he really wishes he could shove them in his drawer, keeping it as a memory of this day, using them when thinking of you. he pushes them aside and looks down at you. your legs spread open for him to see. it’s your turn to feel a little shy, the guy who always stares at you in class now staring at your most intimate parts.

“show me how… show me how to touch you…” haechan whispers out to you, and you bite back a smile.

“was fucking someone else not enough? fucking a fleshlight wasn’t enough either?” you retort, and haechan shakes his head in embarrassment, but you can feel his dick twitch against your thigh in interest at your words. you do what he asked, one hand slithering down to your aching pussy.

he watches closely as your fingers circle around the little nub, watching as your hips twitch a little at the stimulation. “it feels best when you rub me here,” a small moan escapes your lips and you feel him subconsciously rub his dick into your thigh. 

when you feel yourself becoming sufficiently wet, you move your fingers to your entrance, teasing your twitching hole. “you’re gonna put your fingers in here, in and out of me. bet they’d feel so nice.”

he nods along dazedly, and you move to grab his fingers to replace yours. “go ahead, haechan.”

it’s so warm, so wet. he can’t believe he thought the fleshlight was good enough, not when you exist. when he pushes two fingers in, you slightly clench around his fingers and he has to hold back a moan. he can’t believe you’re letting him do this, and he looks down at you, your face scrunched in pleasure.

he scissors his fingers inside you like he does with his fleshlight. he’s not too inexperienced, learning a bit from porn and his fleshlight. it just feels so different, different than how his toy feels and how porn makes it out to be. fingering you feels better than the only time he’s had sex, all because it’s you. you’re under him, telling him how good his fingers feel, letting him do what he feels is right, like how it was always supposed to be.

he arches his fingers and sees your immediate reaction. you tell him to keep moving and he complies quickly. your moans are distracting him, and he realizes that he’s pathetically humping your thigh. he wouldn’t mind cumming again, not when it would be with you.

clearing him out of his hazy thoughts, you ask him for more, you need more. he knows what you need. like a habit from his fleshlight, his other hand reaches down, thumb beginning to circle at your clit. you let out a whimper of his name, and he rubs his thumb against you faster. you feel so good around his fingers, clenching harshly, while he ruts against you languidly.

you feel too close to cumming. that damn fleshlight, you think, gave him too much practice. you feel like jelly, mind almost numb from how good he’s doing. you moan out to tell him just how good he’s doing, and he whimpers at your praise. you can feel something wet against your thigh, and you look down to see him mindlessly humping you. you don’t want to cum like this, you need him to be inside you. 

“s-stop! please, haechan,” you whine out, tapping at his wrist to get his attention.

he immediately removes himself from you, concern painted all over his face. “are you okay?” he’s a little breathless himself, “did i do something wrong?”

“n-nothing wrong, just wanna cum on your cock instead.”

at your words, he lurches forward to kiss you, slotting himself between your legs. he kisses you hard, excited at the prospect of being inside you. if his fingers in you felt that good, then he can’t imagine how it would feel for you to be wrapped around his pulsing cock.

he tries to ignore how he can feel his dick rubbing against your core, your slick making a mess between the both of you. when his tip hits your clit, you both moan out in unison. he’s getting impatient, but at the same time, he doesn’t want this to end. he doesn’t know if this will happen again, doesn’t know if he’ll ever see you again after this.

“please, haechan. need you so bad. need to feel you in me, been waiting for so long.”

“y-yeah? made me wait for you, wanted you so bad. didn’t know you wanted me as much as i wanted you,” he says softly to you, and you realize he’s gotten more comfortable talking to you. when he’s not whimpering out to you, he’s able to talk back. you like seeing him like this, how he’d be with his friends, how he’d be with you.

“you’re acting like you made any big moves when all you did was stare at me and fuck a fake pussy,” you deadpan. he scoffs, but you can see the way his cheeks turn red again. when he twitches against you, you look up to gauge his reaction. you can tell he’s holding back, eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed.

“condom?” he asks.

you shake your head softly, “wanna feel all of you.” you hear him let out a shaky exhale, your words flooding his brain.

you softly call his name, “are you ready?”

he nods, sitting back onto his knees, looking down at the sight of the both of you. when he doesn’t immediately move, you ask, “is there something wrong, haechan? we don’t need to do this if you don’t want to-”

“no!” shocked at how loud he was, he quickly apologizes. “it’s not that i don’t want to! it’s just… i don’t want to seem so desperate…”

you reach up to place your hand on his cheek, thumbing at the moles scattered across it. he nuzzles into your touch, placing a quick kiss to your thumb. you speak up, “you don’t realize how bad i want this. like i said, there are too many times i’ve cum thinking about you.”

you move to line him up at your entrance, haechan taken aback at your forwardness. he moves on top of you, holding up his body over yours. you nod at him, telling him that you’re ready. before he does, you reassure him, “so many times i’ve thought of you on top of me like this, now i finally get to see it.”

feeling slightly embarrassed at your words, he slowly pushes in. a loud whimper escapes him, body immediately falling apart at your warmth. his arms give out, his body falling onto yours. his head falls to the crook of your neck, and you can feel his warm breath hit your already hot skin. his hands move to grip onto your sides, and you feel like he might leave faint bruises. the real thing is so much better than what he wished for last night.

you’re no better though. your hands move to his back for support, nails digging harshly into his skin. your head pushes back into the pillow, mouth spilling out whines and whimpers. you can feel how deep he is in you, how he’s twitching inside of you. if you had known he was this good, you would’ve just talked to him first. “please m-move, haechan.”

he can hear you, but it doesn’t register in his head. you clench around him to gain his attention, to which you get a dazed look in response. “need you to move, please, wanna feel you.”

when he realizes what you want, he slowly pushes himself up, hesitantly swiveling his hips against you. he lets out a small whimper, but he knows you need this just as much as he needs you. he tries to set a pace, but you can tell he’s not properly in the right headspace to make calculated movements. he’s letting his body do what it wants, and you moan out at the sight of how desperate he looks.

he continues fucking you, hips thrusting and stuttering when he feels you clench around him. you want to hear him though, you need him to talk to you. “haechan-” a whimper cuts you off, “please tell me, tell me what you’re thinking…”

he does hear you this time, and he has to suck in a large breath. his hips continue, and he tries to make out proper sentences, but he knows it won’t come out right. “feels so good- better than i could’ve ever imagined-”

“better than your fleshlight?”

“s-so much better. can feel how you’re sucking me in, can feel how wet you are.” he’s babbling, you can only catch onto some of the words he’s saying. he’s stuck between wanting to look at where you two are connected and how your face contorts in pleasure. “please let me cum in you, thought of it so much.”

“yeah? thought of filling up my pussy with your cum?” he nods at your words, punctuated with short, better timed thrusts that hit that spot inside you, your nails dragging down his back. he moans out at the feeling, and you realize he just might like a little pain.

“couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect you would f-feel around me, couldn’t help but think how i needed to show you how much i like you,” he’s moving faster now, turned on by how you’re affected by his thoughts, “always came so fast in my fleshlight at the thought.”

you’re whimpering out at his words, so sure that he’s pussy drunk that he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying. you take it all in though, relishing in how much he was really holding back when he was with you earlier.

“fucked my fleshlight just last night thinking about you,” you gasp out at this, and he feels how you clench around him, hips stuttering against you. “i didn’t even mean to, just needed you so bad.”

you pull him down to a kiss. it’s so messy, tongues meshing against each other while drool slips past both of your lips. your hands move to his hair, now wavy with how sweaty he’s gotten. you tug at it when you feel him hit that spot again. he pushes himself deep inside, hips stilling against you at the feeling, “gonna cum soon, need to cum soon, please-”

“make me cum, too. please, wanna cum with you so bad, haechan.”

he has to forcibly stop himself from cumming from hearing your voice. a shaky hand moves from your side down to your clit, thumb shakily pressing against you. you clench harshly, and he can’t stop the small thrust that presses him against you deeper. he wants to keep moving, but he knows if he thrusts a few more times, he’ll cum without a second thought. “so wet, don’ even need to do anything to help me move.”

you moan, your own hips moving up to fit more of him inside you. you don’t care how desperate you look, fully knowing haechan probably likes the look. he subconsciously moves against you, can’t fight against how good you feel. “close! ‘m so close, haechan! please, cum in me, baby!”

at the petname, haechan starts his movements again, roughly thrusting into you. he’s not thinking about it, hips slamming against yours, the only thought being cumming in your tight pussy. you feel the same, heat all over your body as you practically begin screaming for him.

“gonna give you everything. g-gonna show everyone that you're mine, how i’m yours. won’t let anyone take you away from me.” you whimper out, the knot in your stomach becoming untangled as you let your orgasm wash over you. you clench against him, walls repeatedly tightening around his cock. he can only continue so much before he cums too, warmth filling up your insides.

he’s collapsed on top of you again, hands making it to your boobs, gripping on for support. he tweaks your nipples, helping you ride out your orgasm while he fights through his. he’s so sure he’s pathetically whimpering and moaning out mixtures of your name and how good it feels, but he could care less. he’s focused on how tight you feel, how you’re milking his cock, neediness still apparent after you’ve cum.

when he slows down, he has to move away from you, your twitching pussy overstimulating him too much. what he’s more concerned about though is the aftermath. in a daze, he slowly pulls out of you. he feels the creaminess of his cum around his dick as he pulls out, watching how it slowly spills out of you. like something that looks so practiced, he moves his fingers to gather his cum, slowly pushing it inside of you as you softly moan out.

he feels the soft clench of your pussy, and his dick twitches in response. you hum, taking him out of his daze. he looks up at you, then back down at his fingers, realizing what he’s doing. “s-sorry. just… wanted to see… what would happen,” he mutters at the end, not really knowing what to say. 

he tries not to feel awkward. he really tries. it dawns on him that you both really spoke for the first time today, and now he just finished having sex with you. it’s not that he regrets it, but he’s scared, scared that he might’ve just messed up a possible relationship with you. he scratches the back of his head, too preoccupied with his thoughts. 

“aren’t you gonna lay back down with me?” you ask, a playful but tired smile on your face. 

once he realizes what you said, it all dawns down on him. it doesn’t always have to be so complicated. sometimes, all he needs is a little direction. he sees you laying down on his bed, and it just feels so right. crawling in next to you in bed, covering you both under his sheets feels normal. shy smiles being exchanged to one another as you cuddle into him, it feels like you both have done this before.

it’s okay if it doesn’t feel so timely, he thinks. he has all the time in the world for you now to properly fall in love with you.

taglist: @vqlentinez @froggyforyoongi @snflwrhaerecs4u @jenodreamer @hanyujinshoe @haechankisser @liliansun @jadethevampress @emothugsworld

[mynameismisty]

MINORS DNI.

⪩⪨ ME AND MY HUSBAND ⪩⪨

pairings: in-ho/frontman x wife!reader

warnings: mention of deaths, mention of violence, in-ho kinda being a manipulator

s/n: inspired by @angelseraphines gods and monsters fic<333

Fear.

That was all that filled your mind right now, after the first game— from what you thought was recreation of one of your favorite childhood games turning into a nightmare.

Problem was, you were only *watching*.

From the big screen in front of you, barely any lights in the room as it illuminated your features. You glance towards your husband, an unbothered look on his face like he's seen this numerous times to have grown numb to the sight.

The stacks of bodies that piled up near the shut entrance of the makeshit arena didn't help you get less queasy. You could feel something stirring in your stomach as your eyes refused to look away from the splatters of blood that adorned the game area's walls with every bullet that went through their heads.

You've known that this was his job for a long time now, when he told you what he did as the Frontman. It was after a big argument nearing the start of the games as you'd confronted him on why this business trip would take so long and why it was only on this specific time of the year. Why he'd leave you so lonely and why he would come back looking like he keeps losing bits of his humanity. Looking as if guilt was chipping away from the inside.

It led to the explanation, a cold hard one. He hugged you right after, switching up and telling you there was no other woman he'd want to be with. All your assumptions that he was cheating were wrong. But in some twisted way, you wanted it to be just cheating. And not the fact that your husband was responsible for the death of thousands if not millions.

Every night after that conversation, In-ho had grown more affectionate, more touchy and more initiating of intimacy but you declined. You felt like the cover of your dear husband unveiled itself, showing the ugly, non-empathic man underneath. It was like seeing the once sweet husband who you saw at the altar, eyes filled with tears as he kissed you with every fiber of being he had in his body— was now gone.

Dark circles adorned the under parts of his eyes, the lips that stretched into a wide smile whenever he saw you were now chapped, dry and tasted like bitter whiskey brands he buys.

Glancing at the liquor on the tray between you both, you think it must be a dream. As the screaming from the screen cause slight vibrations that make the liquid move ever so slightly. But your eyes focus, too much so that you feel dizzy seeing the liquor move round and round the glass bottle.

You felt sick, shutting your eyes while you tried to convince yourself this was all a dream. Even the ride to this secluded island seemed like a dream, with In-ho drugging you so that you pass out.

He claimed it was for you to not tell anyone else the route to the games.

A yell along with a cold sensation brings you back to your senses, looking at player 456, or as you've come to know— Gi-hun, screaming at the other players to freeze. You look down at your trembling hand on the arm rest, with your husband's laying stop of it and massaging your knuckles soothingly but it did little to help.

"This is why I told you never to interfere," His voice rings out, skinned of the warm, domestic tone and now a hollow feeling of coldness. This time, you knew he was right.

You should've never pried at all, maybe it'd all be fine if it really was just cheating.

You couldn't reply back, your voice too dry. You didn't want to look at him either. Not when we looked like the grim reaper, someone responsible for deaths of many. How many years has he been doing this? Five? Ten? Maybe even twenty? You forgot when the mysterious business trips started to happen.

"It was just concern." You hoarse.

"I don't need your concern, not when it comes to this."

"But it's not even about you anymore," Your voice was shaky. "It's about them. It's about them dying."

More people get shot as one of the purple-haired players push three players down to their deaths as they get shot. "They chose this. It is not my fault that they are the greedy ones."

"Seriously? That's what you chalk this up to? Jesus, In-ho," You laugh from the ridiculousness of it all. Your husband acting like a god, with the lives of people in his very hands.

Worst part is that he was. He was a god. In this island, he played the cards, he pulled the strings and he triggered the guns.

There wasn't a thing you could do for your darling husband to be back.

You hear an audible swallow from him, seeing him drink a shot of the left whiskey in the glass.

"I'm joining the games."

What?

"What?"

"I'm joining the games," He repeats. "Gi-hun needs to be stopped."

"What the hell are tou talking about, In-ho? Are you insane?"

"No." He says calmly, barely sparing a glance at you. "It's not enough to watch him play the hero."

"So you're going to play along? What the fuck is wrong with you? Alright, you're responsible for all their deaths but now you want to be shoved into a coffin next to them?"

You were seething with anger as you stand up. "You can't do this to me! Maybe I can forgive you for— for being this monster but I won't forgive you if you die in these games—"

"I'm not going to die in them." He chuckles. But it wasn't out of amusement or joy, it was more of a forced one. "If you don't want to see me anymore, I understand, you can leave."

Leave? As in seperate from him? Divorce? What the hell was he even talking about?

"I'll have the guards escort you back home on a boat."

In-ho did not look at you with love, nor with anger. He just gave you a look of acknowledgement and nodded solemnly.

Nothing was going through your mind but the echoing, hard footsteps through the room. That's all you can remember from the suppressed memory.

And now, it's been a few days. You have no idea whether In-ho is still alive or burnt to ashes by now. Maybe he's buried six feet underground out of respect for him as the boss.

All you're sure of is the growing baby inside your stomach when you tested positive before your husband left.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

May I request a Dark/ Dink x reader fic? One where there’s a royal ball at Hyrule Castle, and Dark decides uninvitedly go and crash it. But, unexpectedly for him, he finds something (or someone) else that captivates his attention more. He ends up becoming the star of the ball but for an entirely different reason than what he originally came there for. Smut or not, doesn’t matter to me!

Thank you! ( *´꒳`* )

So first off, this is a beautiful idea and I'm so glad you sent this in!!! Prepare for heavy victorian ball vibes <33

Sway

Pairing: Dark Link/Dink x Reader

Warning(s): Hyrule's worst PR nightmare, but otherwise sfw <3333

Notes: For context, I've sourced most of the outfits from the Rococo period (1720s to 1770s), specifically after the French Revolution. DM me if you want a rant on Hyrulean fashion choices, and feel free to view Dark's outfit inspiration (obvi different color schemes) for more context <333

Masterlist

"I can't believe this," you muttered, gently yanking on the neckline of your gown with the subtlety of someone who wished for nothing more than to be in bed with hot tea and a good book. It was the color of fine wine, or old blood, though you were more concerned with the implications than the color itself. Why was it red? You weren't going to be fighting at Queen Zelda's ball, and you sure hoped it stayed that way. "Do you believe this?"

"You sound thrilled," responded Aisha—your closest friend and the only maid brave enough to yank the strings of that blasted corset until your ribs nearly crumped from stress alone—from behind you in a tone that said, under no uncertain terms, would she lie so you could fulfill your aforementioned fantasy of how to spend the night. She gave another yank, and you could have sworn the creak of your ribcage was certainly not a figment of anyone's imagination. "Ecstatic, even."

Your eye twitched. "I'm going to—"

"Not in that corset, you're not. Five rupees says you can't even lift a sword without gasping for air. Or ten. I can be flexible."

"...You're impossible," you hissed without any real heat, biting your lip when the dreaded thing were finally tied off, the strings tucked in the depths of your ensemble while soft hands yanked the bodice back over your plumped chest. You eyed the sword nestled on the bed in the middle of the room, where it had resided for the last two hours "Fifteen rupees and your favorite novel."

Aisha laughed, swiping a few wayward strands back in the general direction of her straw-colored bun before shaking her head, hands on her hips. "No can do, soldier. Five or nothing, take it or leave it."

You huffed—or tried, because, really, you doubted there was even enough air left in your lungs for such a feat—in exasperation, seconds from throwing your hands in the air at the blatant injustice. What had you done to deserve this?

The maid sighed at your response, expression softening slightly. "Listen, I know they don't exactly include balls in Royal Guard training, but try loosen up. Perhaps a dance or two will help?"

She was right, you knew. Absolutely, completely right. Still, the reason you'd chosen to join the guard was to... well, you were rather keen on making something that felt like a difference, and it was difficult to see how dancing in a ball would accomplish that. Maybe it had to do something with the recent promotion to 'Captain'? Nahhh. "You're talking like I'm still capable of basic breathing—"

A hand was haphazardly waved, and Aisha looked more exasperated as the exchange continued. "Oh, come off it, don't tell me it's all so different from the campaign to Gerudo Town."

"Okay, I won't tell you."

Your newly-assigned quarters were silent.

Then, a knock on the door.

Your friend's expression shifted. She patted your woefully exposed back before moving to the thick door. "You may meet someone."

Ah, of course, the illicit, shared dream of nearly every member of the Court: find a spouse to share the bitter, rib-sticking pain of adult life. You forced a sigh, then a sly smile. "I trust you're referring to the slimy council members that drool over the Queen's every movement?"

"Who else?" chuckled Aisha with an even more conspiratorial grin. Before you could manage a weak laugh, her wrist turned, and the door creaked open.

This was ridiculous.

Champagne zinged down your throat as you took a less-than-delicate sip from the half-empty flute, eyes scanning the crowd with no less calculation than the battlefield. To the left, a gaggle of ladies in waiting fluttered and preened. They were pretty, and likely wonderful conversation if you wanted to discover who was available for marriage or scandal alike. To the right, a gathering of ministers that you weren't tipsy enough to entertain just yet, and in the center, a sprawling ballroom filled with a veritable sea of whirling couples and small islands of conversational stability. Gentle music filtered from the small orchestra next to the temporarily-vacated throne, drowned out only by the unpredictable rise and swell of tittering voices. You'd already danced with enough people and drunk enough to make the experience only half as annoying as it was when you first entered.

Your eyes met the bluebell gaze of the Queen's advisor--the very man who assigned to the the incredibly unhelpful role of mingling with Hyrule's higher society--from where he was nestled among the ministers, holding it for a few eternitous seconds until you broke it, fearing he would hear the dialogue bidding him to choke on a sip of champagne through your eyes alone.

What you would give for a good spar. Or a flash of drama requiring a sword to solve. Or, better yet, a chance to get the hell out of here.

And, as if summoned by your desperate plea and a shred of Hylia's will, it came.

A soft cry emanated from a nearby hallway; not quite one of pain, but it was enough to have your ears perking in interest. body subtly shift to face the arched awning. There was another sound, louder than the first, and you decided some reconnaissance was in order. Glass placed on a random servant's tray and dress hiked to your bare ankles in the most scandalous of displays, you slipped through the doorway, leaving the party and all expectations of propriety in the metaphorical dust.

If anything, the hallway was a thousand times quieter... and just as boring. The stone walls glowed golden in the torchlight, shadows dancing over them like silk as you crept forward, not yet satisfied with the apparent oddity. Many long years in the military had honed your instincts, which were absolutely screaming at you.

Something was very, very wrong.

Just as you rounded the corner, it happened.

A man—night-black hair and irises that would have looked akin to blood had they been any darker, dressed to the nines in crimson and obsidian silk—all but materialized before you. He was tall, and solidly built in a manner that you absolutely had no right to admire, and looked absolutely shocked when you practically collided with his chest.

"Fuck," the curse slipped from your teeth like water; very unsightly, inappropriate water because you hadn't gotten the best at controlling your language when startled. Thankfully, returning to diplomacy was a honed skill of yours, as was the millisecond schooling of your expression and the militant folding of gloved hands behind your back. "My apologies. Are you looking for the ball?"

The man seemed to undergo his own facial schooling, eventually settling on a grin that seemed a bit too sharp. Was he new to court? You couldn't seeing anyone like him in council meetings and the like, so the only explanation was a newly-inaugurated nobleman or simply one with a rare knack for privacy. "I am well aware of the ball's location," he said, eyes roving what you hoped was only your face with what you concurrently hoped wasn't interest, and you suppressed a cringe at the shiver that ran down your spine. "I'm merely seeking... a bit of fun."

Hylia, either he was up to something or some sort of deviant. Both were equally taxing, and with how close he was in proximity to the taunt shape of your body, you truly hoped it was the second option, lest you be forced to rip your corset to shreds and make an arrest on the one night everything was supposed to go according to plan.

"Well, there's certainly more than enough of that going around," you waved a hand in the direction of the ball, keeping your expression neutral. "I expect a rhapsody of some kind within the next minute if you're quick."

His eyes twinkled with... was that amusement? "A rhapsody, you say?" there was a short pause, but you rather thought it was only there so he could clear his throat and adjust his neckerchief like a bothered lad who had never worn one before. "Pity, I have no one to dance with."

"A shame indeed," you responded without missing a beat. You were all danced-out for the night, and in desperate need of some hard liquor. And a bath. Definitely a bath. Besides, you had some suspicious activity to uncover, which is why you used the last of your common sense to perform the smallest of bows, every muscle in your body primed for sidestepping this interesting gentleman. "Good evening."

Unfortunately for him, every muscle in your body was also primed for the rather rude attempt to grab your arm, which you sidestepped while simultaneously shooting what you hoped was a very venomous glare his way. As his eyes widened a fraction, you could only think of the nerve of some people. "I'm terribly sorry," you lied, dusting the delicate silk of your shirt. "But I've no time for fun tonight."

A beat passed.

Then another.

And you saw it.

Something dark flickered on the man's neck; something black and dangerous and oh-so-familiar.

You had seen him before, vaguely, in a fuzzy memory from a battle years ago, before the idea of him faded from public scrutiny with the victorious return of Link, the Hero of Hyrule.

Dark Link.

And he was here, in the center of everything you had fought so hard to preserve, in the epicenter of what the blood and sweat and tears of countless soldiers worked tirelessly to protect. He was here, and you were standing before him. Weaponless, not witless. Your hand moved before your mind could beg it to stop, extending in the man's direction. "On second thought," you said; tone light, gaze fixed. "Maybe I could spare one dance."

Your skin prickled the second he grinned. It wasn't a nice expression--filled with far too many teeth and what could only be described as a vibe so terrible there was nothing more you wanted than to draw your nonexistent sword and jam it straight into his chest cavity--but you supposed that was the point.

The filth staining his neck receded, and Dark Link took your hand in a grip that could kill.

"Gladly."

His skin was cold.

If you didn't hate balls before, you sure as hell did now.

It was one thing, being forced to attend and dance with every slimy politician on this side of the land, and a complete other to have one such dance stolen by what could only be described as the literal embodiment of evil, even more so when you realized, with mounting horror, that he was quite adept at the waltz, of all things; arm coiled around your upper back, roughened fingers intertwined with yours as you spun to the beat of the music. People stared, likely noting the unlikely union from how you had sulked at the side of the ballroom for a good ten minutes, but there were no screams, or calls for murder, leading you to believe that he was indeed dead to public eye.

When the song dipped, and so did your bodies, you took the opportunity to hiss in his ear.

"I know what you are."

Your impromptu dance partner remained unfazed. If anything, he seemed excited. Freak, your mind whispered as chilled breath tickled your cheek. "I'm well aware."

Well, fuck. Not that you were particularly worried, because, while leading him to the epicenter of everything you held dear wasn't the most sound plan, it was the best way to, hopefully, attract the Queen's attention, which would lead to an arrest, then a very wonderful, very public execution.

Your lips ticked up at the thought.

Within moments, the song ended, and the orchestra paused for a short break, though the room was hardly silent as a din of polite clapping filled it. You and Dark Link broke apart, and you used the opportunity to sneak glances at your fellow guards.

They were watching. Every single on of them.

If you strained your ears, you could hear the distant march of an approaching squadron. Heart pounding, sealed with stone in the confines of your ribcage. You didn't know why he was here, or what he wanted, but he would not get it. Not now, not ever.

A cold hand clapped down on your shoulder. Blood-bright eyes dove straight for your pupils, then your jugular.

"Another dance, my dear?"

"Don't call me that," you hissed, slapping his wrist with enough force to make your palm quiver numbly. He knew you knew; there was no reason to pretend otherwise. "Why are you here?"

The root of all evil fucking grinned at you, teeth a shade of blinding white that made you want to punch them through. "I was simply bored," he said, like it explained everything. Like it made up for all the years of terror. "And I always seem to find such... captivating company where I'm not supposed to be."

Your lip curled in a snarl, and the air turned frigid. More guards dotted the perimeter, each more heavily armed than the last, and several patrons were already milling to the entrance.

Dark Link's eyes flicked over your shoulder. His expression turned sharp, and the hand on your shoulder clenched tight enough to leave bruises. "Unfortunately, it seems I've overstayed my welcome—"

"You were never welcome, filth."

"—and what a mouth on you, too! Don't worry, though, I'll have that dance," at long last, he released you, stepping back a few paces as a new grin split his face. "Whether you like it or not."

BANG!

A cacophony of gasps rang out as the squadron burst through the entranceway, and, for a split second, you allowed yourself to feel a sliver of triumph. That, and the dagger Aisha had tucked into your bodice to get you to stop griping.

This was it.

The muscles in your arm tensed against constricting fabric, fingers itching to feel the comforting leather hilt within them once more. The taste of iron lay heavy in your throat, intermingling with the fading zings of champagne. For the first time in years, you were grateful for the contrast.

This was it.

It happened in a mere moment. The guards surged forward at the same moment you drew your weapon from the snug confines of your bosom, glossy enough that you could see the blurred reflection of Dark Link's face in the polished metal. The heel of your left slipper clicked harshly as you planted your foot, using it as a springboard to complete a lunge that would have been far more effective without the damn deathtrap of a dress, but you really weren't in the place to complain when movement was still a somewhat possible option. Leave it to Hylian high society to be the death of itself.

The world seemed to fade away, seconds ticking away with each inch your dagger fell, the tip pointed squarely towards the only place you could kill a demon: his heart. It was only as you caught the flash of bloodborne irises in the shining metal that you realized your mistake.

Dark Link's grin was nothing short of wicked as he sidestepped the blow with all the grace of the dancers that sometimes entertained the queen, so quick that you hardly saw anything but a seconds-long wisp of pearly whites, fanged for terror, and the accompanying wink of blood-red gums as the Demon slipped to your side. Your body pitched forward, and a sliver of panic bubbled in your chest when the corset gave a warning creak, just barely managing to pivot on your opposite foot the knights of Hyrule began to crowd the scene.

Teeth gritted, flanks covered by two guards, you took another broad swing in the direction of the personified scourge of Hyrule, who only seemed to revel in the attention only a dozen gleaming claymores and just as many enraged gazes could provide.

The sliver grew to a throb when the point of your danger sliced through thin air. Dark Link materialized a few meters away, and, at that moment, you would have given anything for a chance to slash the self-satisfied smile from his face. The scent of sulfur filled the air when another knight tried his luck against the Demon, and a scream ripped from your throat when the hall erupted in a wide burst of flames, swirling like a hurricane to singe the exposed skin on your breastbone. More yells filled the space as patrons began to flee, and you only just barely managed to catch Queen Zelda's wide green eyes through the firestorm. She stood across the hall; hand raised, glove abandoned to reveal the sparking insignia of the Triforce as it glowed golden against pale, milky skin.

Heat burned your face like a slap, and you could feel your lungs struggling to pull in more oxygen amidst the swirling ash that rose from Dark Link's direction, as black as the sun was bright. Something bumped your shoulder, and the familiar silhouette of Sir Rogan molded close, and a thick shield was raised to defend you both.

Familiar brown eyes pinned you in place, as did a mustache soaked in ash and mouth pulled tight by duty. "Are you hurt, Captain?!"

"Not yet," you hissed, squeezing your palm to feel the weight of your dagger. There was only thing to do now, meaning you felt not even a hint of shame in bringing the blade to your bodice, wedging it between the damned corset and equally distracting outer fabric of your dress, cutting it in one movement that would have earned you a lifetime's worth of ribbing had it been any other situation. Sir Rogan had the decency to only look halfway scandalized when you reached to his side and relieved him of his short sword. "Hold the line, Sir."

When a burst of golden light zinged across the hall, and your eyes finally caught the blurry-black silhouette of the Demon himself, you launched once more, channeling every bit of training and tears and late nights wondering how in Hylia you were going to survive into the swing, which was mercifully uninhibited due to the now semi-tattered remains of your gown. Fuck propriety, and fuck terror, because you would sooner fear Sir Sonda's propensity for nudity than some wannabe copy of the Hero.

Dark Link's face grew clear as the smoke and light faded. This time, he was not grinning. In fact, he looked rather shocked, though you supposed it was due to the fact that your body crashed into his a moment later, sending the two of you careening to the marble floor. A grunt slipped past your lips, but it was nothing compared to the burning sensation in your arms as they struggled to keep the sword poised to strike, even as you rolled across the floor, swearing and spitting. Several gasps rang above the cacophony when you straddled the Demon's hips, a feat only made difficult by the damn skirt. The world continued to spin as you heaved a lungful of air, exhaling it at the same moment you brought your weapon toward his throat—

Coward, spat your mind, not bothering to register if your lips moved to convey it or not. He could see it in the flash of teeth through pink-painted lips,

—only for a dull crunch to ring out as tempered metal met cold stone. The firmness beneath you dematerialized in a matter of milliseconds, leaving you to drop a surprise foot onto the floor.

You blinked.

Silence reigned over the hall.

Then, chaos.

"Demon!"

"Find him!"

"Hylia help us, he's gone!"

Your chest trembled as you stared at the floor below you. A small crack spiderwebbed from where your sword had made contact with the marble, though it did little to calm the frantic racing of your heart or the tumultuous rise of your breast. The sounds of soldiers running filled the air, almost louder than the terrified shouts, but it mattered not when you... well, you had been so close. So close to feeling the frigid rush of black-blue blood across your skin, and the vengeful joy of serving your kingdom to the bloody fullest.

Slowly, you rose.

Slowly, you turned to face Sir Rogan; your eyes bright, your dress hanging in a way that would undoubtedly end up in every gossip column in the land.

"Hunt him down."

Should I make a part two?

[christinesficrecs]

Do you have any fics you can recommend where like, Derek's family member(s) that died in the fire appear as ghosts and Stiles can see/hear them? Or something along those lines.

Thanks ❤️❤️❤️

I do! 🩷

You Only Live Once…or Twice by WonderWolf | 32.9K | Explicit

Or the one in which Stiles is a necromancer who needs help stopping a rogue alpha and Derek is the solution, but at what cost?

From Ashes by andavs | 13.4K 

Stiles really couldn’t say for sure who was more surprised when the formerly very much deceased Laura Hale suddenly appeared behind Gerard Argent, mid-villain monologue, and ripped his head off.

Dream of Life Again by BarlowGirl | 18.3K | Explicit

You better be ready,” Lydia says as she cleans dirt out from under her nails with an antiseptic wipe. Stiles can smell the lemon scent even from where he stands a few feet away. She’s probably going to end up covered in blood in a few moments, but she likes to be in control in any way she can, so he doesn’t tease her about this. “It’s time to start.”

“I’m ready,” Stiles says and he’s pretty sure it’s not even a lie. Hopefully.

Dead Things by standinginanicedress | 89.1K | Explicit

Derek blows some more smoke out. He chooses to look at Stiles’ mouth instead of in his eyes, again. “I need you to bring someone back.”

“Back.”

“From the dead.”

“Absolutely not,” Stiles scoffs, shaking his head. “Not for you, not for all the money in the world.”

Derek looks at him, just looks. He is not going to accept no for an answer, and Stiles knows it, but it doesn’t matter, because Stiles will not do that. He cannot do that, not again. “Why not for me in specific?”

don’t know what i’m supposed to do (haunted by the ghost of you) by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli) | 30.9K

Stiles sees dead people. Yep. Seriously.

(He’s got this. He’s totally got this. So what if one of them is Derek’s mom?)

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of by Lissadiane | 14.9K

In which Stiles Stilinski sees the ghosts of animals with unfinished business, and Derek Hale is unaware that his dearly departed sister left a few things unfinished.

Of Course It’s Fairies by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere | 100.2K

While still suffering from the after effects of the Nogitsune, Stiles and the pack stumble upon and save a trapped fairy. The boy’s parents, not wanting to be in the pack’s debt, offer each member of the pack who assisted in the rescue, the opportunity to bring a loved one back from the dead.

Having been blissfully reunited with several of their once-lost friends and family members, everyone must work together to figure out how to function as a new pack, and how to defeat a new incoming threat.

I See Dead People by Asteria_Star | 15.3K

Stiles has been able to see Ghosts for as long as he could remember. Having a ghost tell you that you are a necromancer and that the supernatural exists was nothing. What isn't nothing is trying to navigate your best friend becoming a werewolf while trying to hide what you are.

AND since I'm here :)

I Was Present While You Were Unconscious by CharWright5 | 19.4K

Stiles had often thought about how he’d meet his soul mate, the literal muscular man of his dreams. He just didn’t ever imagine finding him on Facebook where a friend had shared a news article about a werewolf John Doe in a coma after a car wreck four hours out of town. And he also didn’t expect to bond and fall in love with the guy’s family before ever saying two words to him out loud.

[poorly-written-fiction]

talking in your sleep pt. 2 || logan howlett x gn!reader

pt. 1 here for anyone who wants to read

A/N: AAAAA HELLO EVERYONE! this fic - and "taste" - brought so many new and amazing readers. thank you all for your amazing support and kind words. i really appreciate it. i stopped writing fanfics almost 10 years ago, so to hear that you all like my (very rusty) writing makes me so happy. thank you all, so very much. here is part 2 for "talking in your sleep", as was voted on by all of you!

tags: SMUT MDNI PLEASE read at your own risk from here forward, logan howlett x gender neutral reader, no mentions of reader's anatomy or appearance, swearing, dry humping/grinding (because i wanted no specific mentions of reader's anatomy), logan lowkey likes pain but we knew this lmao, not super proofread just was excited to write this but also i'm not great at writing smut apologies okay i hope you enjoy bye

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“Good morning, how did you sleep?” You were at a loss for words, completely taken aback by the situation. Logan smiled, “Did you have any nice dreams?” With those words, heat was rushing from your chest and rising into your neck and face. He had you caught.

“Were you listening to me, you fucking animal,” you spoke bitterly, trying desperately to mask your embarrassment. You couldn’t escape the situation, even if you tried. Logan hung onto your doorframe, trapping you between him and your bedroom. He wore that cocky smile and you cursed yourself realizing how handsome he looked with it on. 

“I can’t help my good hearing. You start talking in your sleep and I get curious.” He had you on the spot, looking and acting like he had you all figured out. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to you, but you only call for me when you’re sleeping, now why’s that?”

I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to you. You thought you were going to fall flat on your ass. You were done for in that moment, grabbing Logan by his shirt collar and kissing him with heated passion. His eyes widened in shock, before he rested his hands around your ribcage and leaned into the kiss, pushing you into your bedroom and kicking the door closed behind him. He moved his hands to the back side of your thighs, hoisting you up around his waist and resting your legs on his hips. He pressed your back against the wall, and that cocky smile painted itself on his lips again.

“You’re a smug motherfucker, you know that?” You chuckled, “Makes you hard to talk to.”

“Me? Never,” Logan husked back, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He peeled you away from the wall, pulling you over to your bed and sitting down with you straddling his lap. He pressed another kiss to your mouth while his hands ran up and down your back gently. “You’ve had my eye for a while, but you wouldn’t let me talk to you.”

“I was just… nervous, is all.” You won’t meet his eyes, even though you so badly want to.

“More like stubborn. Had me thinkin’ you really didn’t like me,” Logan smiled, rubbing your hips gently. “You wanna tell me what your dream was about now?” Your whole body felt like it was on fire, making you shift slightly against Logan’s lap.

“Something… like this, actually.”

Logan hung on your every word, he needed to hear the words from you. He was so lost in the fact that he had you here, now, that he didn’t realize how tight his jeans were starting to feel. You, on the other hand, could feel the sudden hardness between your thighs, making it even harder to get your words out. You felt dizzy, realizing what was happening - Logan Howlett had carried you into your room, kissed you, and now was getting hard under your lap. It was everything you had dreamed of. You shifted again, trying to get a better angle to feel as much of him as you could. As you did, Logan himself suddenly became aware of what you were doing and realized how fucking turned on he was that you were doing it. His fingers dug into your hips, not hard enough to leave any bruising, but hard enough that it made you gasp. He pressed gentle kisses and bites to the sides of your neck, breathing you in in your entirety. He moved your hips against his own, desperate to just feel you. He didn’t realize that he was starving for more than your attention, but your affection as well. The heat building between you both was almost unbearable, but the tension was so delicious at the same time. Logan’s kisses were all lips, teeth, and tongue, and it drove you crazy. You dragged your nails down his back, earning a groan from him as well as a long, drawn out roll of his hips. You both moaned as your bodies pressed together, both of you chasing a climax, both of you still completely clothed. You both pulled at each other’s clothing without taking anything off, too lost in the heat of the moment. 

Logan grabbed your body tightly and rolled on top of you, pulling away both of your pairs of jeans but leaving your underwear, and his, on. He wanted to pull away every layer and ravage you, but something about the confines of your clothing made everything about the moment all the more sexy to him. He began to grind down into your hips now, his cock pressing hard between your thighs. Even if he wasn’t inside you, you could feel how big he was against you, and it made your insides tighten. You kicked your jeans the rest of the way off of your legs, before wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, and closer… closer…

Soon you were coming undone beneath him, clawing at Logan’s back and an endless stream of moans and curses spilling from your mouth. Your thighs tight around his body as you rode out your orgasm, your underwear becoming ruined in the process. Logan’s own orgasm followed soon after, his moans muffled by your lips, and his hips stuttering against yours, before they stilled. You felt the warmth of his seed leaking from the fabric of his boxers as it began to seep into your own. You looked at Logan, as he panted and gripped the sheets underneath you. He looked at you with hazy eyes and a satisfied smile. He was everything you had dreamed of, everything you had desired, and he hadn’t even properly fucked you yet.

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A/N: hello! thank you for reading! part 2 of "taste" will go live soon, again thank you to everyone who voted and has been giving their kind words.

users tagged: @heart-0f-silk

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part Twelve)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, Arkham Knight, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief, violence, panic attacks, PTSD, brief talking about rape (reader recalls a time she helped Catwoman kill a rapist)

Part Twelve: Prince of Gotham

You’d fallen asleep rather peacefully. If only the dream you found yourself in was equally as peaceful. You were back in the abandoned wing of Arkham, holding Jason.

“Please…I’m not ready to die,” he cried. The bloody “J” engraved on his face was wet with tears.

“I’m sorry,” you cried.

“Please Y/N, please help me,” he cried. You closed your eyes and rocked back and forth as he died in your arms. You opened them and were faced with his lifeless corpse. You screamed in horror.

Dick shakes you awake as he says, “Y/N! Y/N!” You begin hyperventilating. “Hey it’s okay, it’s okay,” he says as he sits with you. You calm down but he still wears a grave look.

“What is it?” You ask.

“The notes, Chicago police found new Joker notes here,” he says.

“Shit,” you say as you jump out of bed.

“There’s something else,” he says.

“What?” You ask.

“The note was signed by Joker…and Poison Ivy,” he says. Your face goes pale with shock.

“I thought she was locked up,” you say.

“She got out,” he says. You close your eyes trying not to cry.

“Right so what’s the plan then?” You ask in a defeated tone.

“We’re gonna go back to Gotham, to stay at the manor. At least there we can all work together,” he says.

“Okay,” you say meekly. You then notice Dick is fully dressed; not in pajamas. You throw on Jason’s leather jacket and grab your bag. He and you then get in his silver Porsche and head back to Gotham City.

When you get to the manor it’s like a living nightmare. Thea and Roy had to go back to Star city to help Oliver deal with Damien Dark. So it was just the titans, Donna, Bruce and Alfred; and they were all in mission mode. You all gathered in the batcave to discuss the note. It said, “even though the bird is dead, there will be more dread, once the kitten is taken, bonds will be broken, know that I’m not joking.”

“Doesn’t Poison Ivy hate the Joker?” Donna says.

“She does,” a voice you don’t recognize says. Out from the shadows of the batcave comes a short slim woman wearing leather pants and a form fitting leather coat. It’s Selina Kyle, Catwoman.

“Selina?” Bruce says surprised. “How did you-“ he begins to say.

“Relax honey, I come in peace,” she says calmly. “I’m just delivering a little message for Ivy; she wanted me to drop by and say she had nothing to do with Jokers little note.”

“Why would we believe her,” you say.

“Believe what you want Y/N, just remember she’s not the one who put Jason in the ground,” she says as she walks up the stairs.

“Right I’ll talk with her later for now focus on the note,” Bruce says. How you hated him ordering everyone around.

“When Y/N first started out the media thought she was Catwoman then they figured out she wasn’t so they called her “the mystery archer”,” Dick says.

“Original,” Gar says.

“So Y/N is the kitten in the note since the media sees her as a second Catwoman of sorts,” Kori says.

“Right and Jason is the Robin he’s talking about,” Donna says.

“Basically he’s gonna try to kidnap Y/N,” Rachel says. Your head feels fuzzy, you can’t listen anymore. You quietly slip out of the room, you were beginning to remember your talent for disappearing.

Upstairs you find Selina in the parlor.

“What are you really doing here?” You ask her.

“Maybe I’m just worried about my protege,” she says with a smirk.

“We went out once together years ago, you barely even taught me anything,” you say.

“Wrong, I taught you how to disappear. And if you’re smart you’ll go hide somewhere Joker won’t think to look. This stupid house can’t protect you and you know it; plus I can see it in your eyes that everyone’s driving you crazy,” she says.

“Why do you care Selina?” You ask.

“You know I’ve never been one to stick to one side, I work with Harley and Ivy but that doesn’t mean I agree with everything they do,” she says. “Plus replacement Robin actually got things done, he wasn’t afraid of a little blood; so I just came to give some friendly advice.”

“Thank you,” you say softly.

“I would say you can come to my place but I don’t think you want to risk a reunion with Ivy,” she says.

“Yeah I’m good,” you say. “I know a spot and sorry if when I go missing they think you kidnapped me.”

“Don’t worry about it, stay safe little cat,” she says. You and Selina had met a few times in the past. Once you helped her take down a couple of guys who raped one of her friends. And by take down, you mean you helped her hide the bodies. Batman never found out you did that, he wouldn’t approve. Dick and Thea don’t even know; only Jason knew. You aren’t ashamed of your part in their death, those guys had it coming. You just didn’t want Dick or Thea to see you differently. You didn’t exactly tell Jason, he found out back when he was Robin. You were worried he’d tell Bruce but he simply said if there’s ever a next time he’ll help you.

You quickly grabbed your bag and headed to the garage; not the one attached to the batcave, the one attached to Wayne manor. You’d been on Jason’s motorcycle many times and he taught you how to drive it. This wasn’t the exact one you learned to drive but it would have to do. You got on the bike and headed to your destination, Iceberg Lounge.

Two days since you left Wayne Manor.

The Iceberg Lounge: top floor consisting of partying the violence and pain of living in Gotham away and the basement consisting of the minds that create all the violence and pain in Gotham discussing their next move. You heard the club was under new management and Penguin was missing. You figured the last place Joker would look for you is at the most infamous nightclub in Gotham; and if all else failed you could always just blend into the crowd. You changed in a near by alley, your outfit now consisting of a black mini skirt and lace black strapless top. With the set you wore your fighting boots in case you needed to make a quick get away. You stashed your bag in a vent and then let the crowd swallow you.

The blaring techno music made your head pound. You’d been to the Iceberg before many times with Thea; dispite Oliver’s warnings and pleas for you two to stay away from Penguin’s territory. Looking around the room you saw people dancing in pure bliss. Some were high on snakebite; others high on the music. You knew in your heart no drug or song could mend the wound Jason’s loss has created in your heart. Regardless of your acknowledgement that nothing could take the pain away, you dance.

The music is so loud you can feel the waves of vibration floating through your body. You feel a faint vibration from your boot pocket. You quickly check and it’s Dick calling you, you ignore it. He’s called you about one hundred times the past few days and so have Rachel, Thea, Kori and Gar. After you stand all the way back up you notice someone watching you from the balcony above the dance floor. He’s wearing a suit and a red mask covers half his face. His eyes are hidden behind tinted red lenses, he’s unrecognizable. Fear washes over you at the thought he could be one of Jokers guys. You dance further into the club to better use the crowd as coverage. You had never been this deep in the club before but you’d heard some pretty fucked up things were known to happen. People overdosing on snakebite, people going missing, deals happening; the iceberg had all the crime in Gotham packed into one nightclub.

You’d officially lost track of time, you weren’t sure how long you’d been relying on the people dancing around you to hold your tired body up. You knew as soon as you left the crowd you’d drop. You climbed the stairs to the balcony that wrapped around the inside of the club. Your boots banged against the metal floor as you walked past people doing snakebite and making out. You leaned against the wall and sank to the floor.

You passed out but were only asleep for a few minutes. You felt someone’s cold hand shaking your arm trying to wake you. You opened your eyes and saw the man with the red mask. He pulls you off the ground, you’re so out of it you barely register what’s going on. You try to throw yourself away from him but you fail.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” the robotic voice says.

“I’m supposed to believe that,” you say out of breath. You pass out and he gently catches you.

When you wake up you’re in Penguins old office. You take note of the fact that you’re not restrained, a good sign.

“Who the fuck are you?” You say coughing. He doesn’t answer, he simply opens a bottle of water and hands it to you. “I have a boyfriend by the way, I’ll stab your fucking eyes out if you try anything,” you say.

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?” the man asks.

You are quiet for a moment, not out of hesitation, out of sadness. “Jason,” you say. You become more awake. The lighting in here is better than the actual club and you notice a white streak in the man’s hair. You mentally go through every criminal, anti-hero and hero you’ve met but you still don’t know who he is. “Why are you helping me?” You ask him. He says nothing. “Why were you watching me?” You ask.

“You should be more careful, this place is dangerous,” he says.

“I can take care of myself,” you say.

“So where is your boyfriend anyway?” He asks.

You don’t know what to say, the answer of course is that Jason is dead but you know you shouldn’t be truthful. “He’s on his way to pick me up,” you say as you start walking towards the door. He grabs your arm, not harshly just enough so you stop walking away. Standing so close to him you swear he’s familiar. He simply stares at you for a moment. You wish you could see his eyes then maybe you could tell who he is. He lets you go and you hurry away back into the crowd.

Hey, I hope you enjoyed the fic if you did please like. If you want to keep up to date with the series please follow me. Any positive feedback is much appreciated, it encourages me to keep writing and posting parts. I have a lot more ideas to develop the Redhood plot and then also I have another fic idea that would be a prequel to this (it will be how reader meets Jason and Dick and becomes a titan). Then I also have another idea for a reader x Jason story which would be separate from this one. If any of that sounds interesting please check out my Masterlist and follow me🩷

Here’s a link to my Masterlist if you want to check it out.

Masterlist

[stars-and-inkpots]

Could you possibly write more soft Gale fics? He just deserves so much love and healing. I really liked how you wrote Reverence. Sorry I don’t have a more specific ask, I’m not very good when it comes to fic ideas.

Absolutely I can, I love writing for Gale so much, and he really does deserve the world. Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy!

Late Night Book Club | Gale x Reader

No matter what you try, you just can't seem to sleep. Between nightmares and insomnia, you start to think you might never get a good night's rest again.

Gale seems to share the same issue.

While you might not be able to completely solve your problems, at least the two of you aren't alone in them anymore.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Cuddling, Insomnia, Nightmares, Comfort, Fluff, First Kiss, Love Confessions (kinda)

Notes: choosing a name for this was the hardest part about writing it

Ao3 Link: Late Night Book Club

Word Count: 2,150

For whatever reason, you find yourself awake far later than everyone else. This shouldn’t be too much of a problem, if it wasn’t for the fact that this was the second night in a row where sleep eluded you to the point of exhaustion. The little amount of sleep you did manage to get was plagued with uncomfortable dreams that teetered on the edge of nightmares, making sure the rest was fitful. You knew you had to sleep; you couldn’t hope to lead the group if you were barely able to stand tomorrow. It’s frustrating. It isn’t like you aren’t trying to sleep either; you laid there for hours before finally giving up and leaving your tent to tend to the fire that has steadily burnt down to the last embers. It’s here where Gale finds you. 

The look on your face only adds to his concern at seeing you up so late. You don’t notice his approach, another thing that makes Gale think something must be wrong. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks softly, though the sudden noise still startles you. He watches you turn and immediately relax when you realise it’s only him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry,” you apologise, but you aren’t exactly sure what you're apologising for. Perhaps it's for letting all of them down with your inability to sleep, knowing you’ll hold them back tomorrow. Then you notice that Gale looks just as tired. 

“Is there anything I can do?” He asks. 

You’re sure your exhaustion is evident enough, you can feel the weight under your eyes. A part of you hates feeling like you need to be taken care of. You don’t want to acknowledge that help would be both welcome and useful, but you know these feelings are simply a byproduct of the exhaustion that weighs on your shoulders. You can’t fault Gale for wanting to help. 

“No, it’s alright. You need your own rest.” The day had been tough on all of you. Gale, though talented when it came to magic, was pushed to his own limits today. 

“Very well. Would you at least allow me to sit with you for a few moments then?” Gale asks. 

You only nod, and Gale sits beside you on the ground. You’ve managed to get the fire going a little stronger again, and the warmth is appreciated by both of you. You’re suddenly aware of just how close you are, knees almost touching. You blame the warmth in your cheeks on the fire. 

“If there is something bothering you, I am more than happy to listen.” There is genuine care in his words. He is worried about you. As much as you don’t want to burden your companions with your troubles, he seems adamant that he wants to hear them. 

“I can’t sleep is all,” you admit. “It’s nothing serious. Just can’t sleep, and then when I do my dreams end up waking me up again.” It feels childish to say that your dreams are the primary culprit of your lack of sleep. You’ve been through so much in the past weeks, but it’s nightmares of all things that finally get to you. 

But Gale doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t tease you. Instead, he looks at you with only sympathy and understanding. He doesn’t pry any further, and you’re thankful. 

“What about you? Why are you still up? If you want to share, of course,” you’re quick to add. You don’t want him to feel like he has to tell you his own troubles just because you told him yours. 

“We have similar problems it seems,” is all Gale answers. You return his earlier kindness by not pressing him to elaborate either. 

The two of you sit there in comfortable silence again. 

“I understand if you wish to remain alone, but if you ever wish for company when you cannot sleep, you are always most welcome to visit me.” He says it so quietly, hesitantly, but not unsure. Knowing you don’t need to spend the nights awake alone, at least, is a comfort, and the thought of spending the time talking with Gale is pleasant; even if that time is simply spent sitting near to one another. 

You smile. “I might take you up on that offer.” 

Gale gives you a fond look. The golden light of the fire makes him look soft and at ease, though, maybe that’s only because he’s with you. 

“I think I’ll try to sleep again. Thank you for this, Gale.” You stand, and he does the same. 

“Anytime.” 

Sleep still doesn’t come easy when you return to your tent, but eventually you’re able to get, at least, a little bit of dreamless sleep before you’re awoken again. The gaps between sleep and consciousness are still more frequent than you want, but it’s better than nothing. 

---

The next day is rough. Gale doesn’t look like he had much luck with sleep either, and you’re almost thankful because he is more inclined to ask the group to slow down than you are. Maybe the others can tell that you’re also struggling, because no one complains when the steady pace is interrupted. 

Perhaps some god out there is looking out for you, because the day’s travel is mercifully uneventful. 

Setting up camp again is a chore. You do your best to help where you can, but you can barely stand as it is. 

“Get some rest, soldier. We’ve got it from here,” Karlach says to you, voice quiet. You know she’s trying to be nice, but it feels like pity and you hate it. You swallow your pride and thank her before returning to your tent. 

Even though your body aches and your head is starting to hurt, when you lay down, you only end up staring at the roof of the tent. You suddenly just aren’t tired. You know you’re tired, because your body feels tired, but at the same time you aren’t , and it’s only partly caused by fear of the dreams you know await you. It’s frustrating to no end. 

After another few minutes of laying there with your eyes closed, you finally give in. 

Only a few of the others are still awake, sitting and talking with each other around the fire. They don’t notice you skirting around the edge of camp towards Gale’s tent. It’s not that you feel like you need to keep this a secret, you just don’t think you have the energy to talk to anyone besides the wizard right now. 

“Gale? Can I come in?” You ask softly outside the tent. You know he’s awake; you can see shadows that dance across the walls. 

“Of course,” Gale answers. Before you can move to open the tent flap, he waves a hand and it opens for you. 

“What a gentleman,” you tease, but even you can hear how tired you sound. 

“Always for you,” he returns with a smile, but there’s a truth in his words that brings a warmth to your face. 

You finally notice how cosy his tent is. There are several books, all of them stacked in piles that must be organised in a way you can’t discern. The ground is covered in plush blankets and pillows. Fluttering around the top of the tent are small, almost iridescent orbs of light, some purple and others blue. They give enough light for Gale to read, but keep the tent dim enough to be pleasant. 

“Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable.” 

You sit beside him; closer than you were last night, leaning against his side slightly. You peer over at the book in his hands, surprised to find it isn’t some arcane tome. As far as you can tell, it’s just a normal adventure novel. 

“Don’t let me interrupt you, you can keep reading.” Even just sitting here beside him is enough of a comfort; the tension already starting to seep out of your shoulders. You don’t want to talk about anything yet, and you figure that Gale shares the same sentiment. 

“Do you want me to read to you?” Gale asks, and though you almost think he’s joking, you realise he really means it. 

“That would be nice.” 

And it is. You’ve always enjoyed listening to him talk; Gale has a lovely voice. He picks up where he left off when you got there. He wasn’t too far into the book yet, but he still pauses occasionally to explain something. Eventually you close your eyes, focused only on his voice, the details of his words getting blurry. 

“Can we lay down?” You mumble tiredly. 

“That’s a good idea,” Gale says with a smile, having already noticed the way your head has begun to dip forward as sleep begins to pull at you. 

It takes a bit of coordination, but eventually you’re both underneath the thick blanket that Gale pulls tighter around the two of you. You move closer to him, your head underneath his chin, and he wraps an arm around you. He’s warm, and you feel safer than you have in weeks. He starts reading again, fingers playing idly with your hair. Within another minute, your breathing has evened out and you’re fast asleep. 

Gale folds the corner of the page to mark where you two left off and closes the book before he sets it aside with the countless others. Eventually, he manages to fall asleep too. 

Both of you still wake up a few times in the middle of the night. You didn’t expect this to be some miracle cure for your sleep problems, but having Gale there holding you when you wake up makes getting back to sleep a little easier. The same can be said for Gale who wakes up several times, only to be calmed down once he feels your arms around him. The two of you are able to get a good rest, and when you wake up in the morning you don’t feel the same ache in your bones as you did the past few mornings. 

It becomes a sort of routine between you. In the evenings, after everyone leaves for their tents, you follow Gale to his or he follows you to yours. Then he reads to you, and sometimes you read to him, and you both let sleep find you in each other's arms. The nightmares are getting more bearable, and even on the worst nights when neither of you can sleep no matter how much you try, at least you’re there together. 

---

It’s been a week since you started this arrangement. The book is nearly finished. Gale had promised to let you pick out the next one. 

He brushes through your hair with one hand, the book held open in the other. You listen while he starts reading the last few pages. The hero who’s story you’ve been following through the novel culminates in one final battle against evil. It’s cliché, you think to yourself, and then smile because isn’t this exactly your own life now? And what hero story is complete without a lover to kiss them at the end, which is precisely what happens. Good prevails, and the hero gets their true love. 

Gale feels your smile against his neck and, for reasons he understands but doesn’t want to admit yet, feels a warmth flood his cheeks. 

“The End,” he announces, snapping the book closed with a flourish, earning a laugh from you. “What did you think?” 

“It was nice. It felt more like a romance novel at the end.” 

Gale hums in agreement. “Yes, but I think that's what I enjoyed most.” He puts the book down then returns to hugging you close to him. 

“I agree, it felt natural.” You hope Gale understands what you mean. 

He does. 

The two of you have been dancing around this for a while now, neither one of you ready to acknowledge it. But there’s something about tonight that feels different. 

You lean back to look at Gale’s face, bringing a hand up to guide a strand of greying brown hair behind his ear. Your hand lingers on his cheek, thumb brushing gently across his skin. He puts his own hand over yours, moving it to kiss your palm. It’s a careful gesture, tender and nervous all at the same time. 

When you move to kiss him, he meets you halfway. It’s a soft kiss; a testament to these nights you’ve spent together. When you part, you rest your forehead against his. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell: like you mean everything to him. 

He kisses you once more before you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. He holds you like he’s scared you’ll disappear, and you tighten your arms around him as if to answer: 'I could never.'

You both sleep the best you have in weeks, still there for each other each time you wake. 

[username8746489]

Fight scene scenario focusing on Sylvie, specifically his reaction to getting injured in front of others

(Cw: Mild gore)

(Fic under cut; wordcount: 794)

Sylvie stayed near the back of the fight, sending Counting Sheep out to support his allies wherever he could. Not for the first time, he scowled to himself. His epithet wasn't really suited for close combat once his opponents knew what it was. Meaning that he was completely relegated to the sidelines.

Although, it wasn't as if he had nothing to do. The trio of twelve year olds cowering behind him definitely gave him incentive to stay here instead of rushing in with Dream Big.

"It's an important job," Percy had instructed him before, "We need you to make sure they stay safe. They're only children, after all."

Ordinarily, he would've been upset at such a minor role in the fight, but he understood and went along with it easily. Maybe because she had deliberately separated him from them when describing the trio as children.

"Augh!"

Sylvie's eyes immediately glanced over to where Percy was cradling her wrist, sword having been kicked into the air by her opponent.

With a grin, they grabbed the hilt, running their finger along the edge of the blade, "Let's see…"

Sylvie flinched as their head snapped towards them, smile growing ever wider on their face.

"The children would be the biggest loss, wouldn't they?"

The Neo Trio screamed as they sprinted forward, fast, much faster than they had been moving this entire fight. Were they holding back?

Sylvie hadn't even registered that he had pushed the girls away until they were upon him, plunging the sword into his side. He grunted, kicking them away and waving a hand to send a sheep gnawing at their legs. They only laughed, withdrawing their weapon with a twirl to swing at the summon, splattering it into dust with a small amount of blood trailing behind its arc. There wasn't any time for another counterattack before Indus was slamming into their side like a battering ram, forcing them far, far away from the kids yet again.

He held a hand on his wound, catching his breath. His body was starting to slump, but he forced himself upright. The world felt so much quieter than it was supposed to be.

"…vie! Sy..ie! Oh my god! Are you okay?!"

He blinked a couple times, looking down at where Molly was gripping onto his sleeve. There was a giant bubble around them. He hadn't noticed she had summoned it.

"I- I tried to dumb down the damage but- You still got hurt- I'm sorry- I- I should've-"

Sylvie wiped the blood off on his coat before placing a hand on the girl's shoulders, "Don't worry, I'm fine-"

"You're not fine!" She exclaimed, tears welling up in her button eyes, "That was a real ass goddamn sword! I- Let me-" Molly held her hands up towards the wound, green epithet bubble shrinking to numb down his pain.

He shoved her away, averting his gaze before he could catch a glimpse of her own shocked expression. "Save your stamina," Sylvie said after a brief moment, "You don't need to waste it on me."

"It's not wasting it!" Molly shouted, "You're my friend, of course I want to help-"

"Well, maybe I don't need your help," Sylvie snapped, taking a step back and crossing his arms.

Molly stared at him, eye twitching, "This is NOT the time for your lone wolf act, Sylvie!"

"Excuse me?!"

"WOAH, KID!" Giovanni Potage rushed into the scene with all of his usual tact (that is to say, none). "Jeez, that was a bad injury! Here." He held out a hand, soup forming into a sphere in his palm. "Open up!"

"I said I don't need it!" Sylvie slapped his hand back, the liquid falling and splattering against the floor. Giovanni just looked at him. Not with the usual annoyance, but more… concern.

He didn't like it. He didn't need their concern. Since when has anyone ever been concerned about him?!

"Go back to the fight," Sylvie spit out, stumbling away. "I'll be-" His own sentence was quickly contradicted by how his legs collapsed from under him, blood loss catching up to him.

"Sylvie!" Molly and Giovanni rushed over.

"Shut up," Sylvie hissed, voice drowned out by the beating of his own heart reverberating in his ears. "Shut up- I don't-" He curled further into himself, breathing picking up in pace until he could barely take in air.

The pain in his side felt like nothing compared to how they were hovering above him, staring down with eyes of pity- Stop it, stop it, stop it!

"Don't look at me," He whispered, pressing his hand further into his injury as if it would disguise the way the blood was soaking into the white of his coat, displaying his weakness for everyone to see.

[birinboom]

Kirishima Beats No Nut November

Kirishima Eijirou x AFAB Reader Word count: 2,852 words Warnings/tags: Adult characters, AFAB reader (no pronouns used), swearing, established relationship, pet names (babe), vanilla smut A/N: This is based on a series of asks on @willowser’s blog talking about who would (or more like who wouldn’t) make it through No Nut November. Also, this is the first smut fic I’ve ever posted so don’t expect great things.

18+ FIC, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Smut specific tags and fic under the cut

Smut specific tags: PWP (porn with some miniscule semblance of a plot), biting/marking, oral sex (fem receiving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex

“You guys want to do the ‘No Nut November’ challenge this year?”

The room fell silent. Eijirou was already excited at the word ‘challenge’. He turned his gaze to Hanta, as did everybody else. Hanta, however, kept his eyes on his phone, scrolling through an article. 

Shouto was the first who spoke. “We can’t eat nuts throughout all of November?”

Next to him, Izuku’s face was so red it almost seemed like he was steaming. “That’s not what it means, Shouto-kun,” he whispered.

His words went unheard as Hanta drowned him out, frowning at Shouto’s question. “Dude, no, it’s talking about not busting a nut.”

“So no cracking our own nuts? Are pre-cracked nuts allowed then?”

A collective sigh swept through the room. 

“You seriously never heard the term ‘busting a nut’ before?” Katsuki drawled. When Shouto shook his head, Katsuki scoffed, mumbling something about Shouto being a sheltered princess.

Denki, however, beamed at Shouto, ready with an explanation. “It’s a euphemism for ejaculation. Y’know, cumming.”

“Ah,” Shouto replied, falling silent once again.

Denki turned back to Hanta. “So no nutting for all of November. Does that mean no masturbation? No sex?”

Hanta shrugged. “I guess you can do both without nutting if you plan on edging yourself all month. But once you nut, you’re out of the challenge.”

“What about wet dreams? Do they count?”

Hanta stayed silent for a moment, looking through the article on his phone. Then he turned his attention back to Denki. “The rules say you get one, then you’re out.”

“Aw, only one?” Denki whined. “If I can’t nut through all November, I don’t think one will be enough.”

Hanta grinned widely at the blonde. “If you don’t make it through, then you can’t participate in ‘Destroy your Dick December’!”

Denki lit up. “What’s that??”

Eijirou stopped paying attention to the conversation, instead focusing on the challenge ahead. No orgasms for 30 days didn’t sound too hard. Surely he had the resolve to get through it. 

“I’m in!” he said, interrupting Hanta and Denki’s discussion about ‘Destroy your Dick December’. 

And once Eijirou was in, hyping everybody else up, the rest of the group decided to partake too.

“You seriously agreed to that?”

Eijirou’s smile started to waver. “C’mon, it’s just one month.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just one month? Ei, you barely make it three days unless you're sick or exhausted from work.”

“I know, babe, but I can do this!” Grabbing you by the waist, he pulled you closer, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “At least… as long as you don’t try to seduce me before December.”

You sighed, raising your hands to run your fingers through his hair. “You guys are so stupid. Fine. I won’t make it harder for you, but I’m not participating!”

Eijirou giggled. “I think it’s gonna be plenty hard without your help, babe. But it’ll make it all the more gratifying once I get to fuck you again.”

The first couple of days went by with little effort. Nothing really changed in Eijirou’s life, he spent his free evenings cuddling with you on the couch, he slept with you in his arms, he got ready in the mornings next to you. He could still kiss you without any issue. He was so sure that he had this challenge in the bag.

But as the month progressed, things got more and more difficult. He often found his mind straying from his goal when you were close by, his sanity slowly slipping. The outline of your breasts visible through your clothes, the curve of your ass when you bent forward to pick something off the floor, your shirt riding up and showing your stomach when you stretched. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Showering with you became torture. He could barely stand being in the bathroom at the same time, the outline of your naked body taunting him. One particularly cold day had your nipples perking, clearly showing through your shirt. Eijirou’s gaze was only torn away when you rubbed your arms, blocking out his view. He needed a cold shower after that. But he was still too stubborn to give up.

Kissing you slowly became painful. Once he passed the middle of the month, he could barely peck you on the lips without feeling his resolve beginning to crack. He began pretending to fall asleep on the couch in the evenings just to have a valid reason to stay away from your shared bed; just to keep his hands away from your soft, sleep-warm skin. He was sure that if he went to sleep next to you, his iron will would crumble come morning when you’d inevitably roll over and throw your arms around him, pressing your body flush against his under the covers. The soft sighs you let out while waking up always turned him on. He yearned to hear them again. But he couldn’t give up. Not yet. 

He was so close; only 12 more days to go.

One night towards the end of November, he came home unexpectedly early. The soft whimpers that reached his ears made him pause. He knew those sounds. They had him throbbing with need already. And he wasn’t sure that he’d be strong enough to resist.

His feet began moving on their own, leading him towards the bedroom. And there you lay among the sheets, underwear discarded to one side, your pussy on full display as you played with your clit with a toy. The custom-made one, he realized with a jolt, a replica of his own cock. And judging from the sheen on it, you’d already been fucking yourself for a while. 

He stood rooted to the spot, unable to look away, hands clenched around either side of the door frame to keep them from moving as his cock throbbed, straining against his pants, begging to be touched. His nostrils flared, your tantalizing scent thick in the air. He swallowed dryly when your moans became louder and more insistent as you neared your climax.

“Fuck-- Ei!” you whimpered as you came, pussy clenching around nothing.

Crack

Eijirou was torn out of his need by the sudden noise. Turning his head, he saw five finger-shaped marks around the door frame where he’d been clenching it hard enough to break the wood.

“Ei!” he heard you say, surprise heavy in your voice. “What are you doing home so early?!”

He turned back to you, jaw clenching with dismay when he saw you drawing your legs up towards your chest, hiding your sex with your crossed ankles. You were grabbling for the sheets with both hands, trying to cover yourself underneath them.

He didn’t want you to feel like you had to hide your nakedness from him. Not now, not ever. But he knew well that his own idiotic stubbornness had been the cause of this.

“I’m sorry,” he forced out between gritted teeth, turning to move back to the living room.

“Ei, wait!” 

He heard you moving after him, stumbling as you pulled the sheets around you. Keeping his back to you, he turned every time you tried to move around him.

“Why are you mad at me, Ei? I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Mad? I’m not--” He let out an exasperated groan, a noise he felt like he’d been holding in for weeks. Sinking onto the couch, he scrubbed at his face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m so fuckin’ frustrated with myself. I should never have agreed to this stupid-ass challenge! I’m so fucking miserable that I can’t touch you without feeling like I’m about to lose it. And then I come home to the best fuckin’ display I’ve ever seen and I CAN’T JOIN BECAUSE OF THIS STUPID CHALLENGE!!” 

Finally, he looked up at you, angry tears brimming at his waterline. “I miss you, babe. ‘S not even the sex as much as the intimacy. I miss kissing you, a-and touching you. I miss sleeping next to you. I miss feeling normal around you.”

You grinned at him. “So you don’t miss the sex? You’re fine with us not banging ever again?”

“Fucking NO I’m not!” Eijirou reached out, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his lap, molding himself around you as much as possible. “Please don’t joke about that,” he whispered against your neck. “I’ve had a stomach ache since, like, November 5th or something from constant blue balls. I want you so bad it feels like I’m about to combust, but I can’t.” 

Pressing a continuous string of kisses to your temple, he apologized, over and over again, for joining No Nut November, and for hurting both you and himself in the process. 

“Never again,” he promised. “I’m never doing such a stupid thing again! I love you so much, babe. I’ll make it up to you come December.”

On the last day of November, Eijirou spent most of the day watching the desk clock in his home office like a hawk. His brain was buzzing with counting down the seconds until midnight. With only half an hour left, he wandered aimlessly into your bedroom, desperate to find something to occupy his mind with. He thought he’d have more time before you finished your bath. But he’d miscalculated. And so he came upon you, fully nude as you searched through your dresser for something to wear for bed.

He broke.

Moving up behind you without fully realizing what he was doing, he let his hands caress your waist, your skin just as soft and warm and supple underneath his fingers as he’d imagined. His lips met your shoulder, and he slowly worked his way up, pausing for a moment to pay extra attention to the junction between your shoulder and neck to nip at your skin, letting his tongue slip over the marks his teeth left behind. One hand moved over your stomach, arm wrapping around you to pull you closer, his other hand moving up to cup your breast, thumb caressing your nipple. The groan you let out had him already teetering on the edge.

“Can’t wait any longer,” he whispered.

You turned in his grip, but as he leaned in to kiss you, you raised one hand, pressing your palm against his mouth to hold him back.

“Ei, wait! You’re so close, you can’t fail now!”

He grinned against your palm. “I don’t plan on failing. But just because I can’t cum until after midnight, doesn’t mean that I can’t make you cum either.”

Lifting one of his own hands, he placed it over yours, pressing it closer to kiss your palm. Then he gently pulled your hand away to kiss your wrist.

“Please, babe,” he mumbled, pressing another kiss to your skin, “I can’t wait to taste you again.”

You watched him silently for a moment, eyes half lidded and mouth open in a pant. Eijirou stuck his tongue out, letting the tip run over the sensitive skin on your wrist. A warm tingle crept up his spine when he felt you shiver.

“Fuck--” you sighed. “Fine, yes!!”

Releasing your wrist, Eijirou brought both hands up to cup your cheeks, kissing you desperately. Pressing his tongue into your mouth, he wound it around yours. Pulling away, he kissed an urgent trail over your jaw and down your neck, only to return to your lips again. 

His hands moved downwards, caressing your waist for a brief moment before they continued down. Breaking the kiss, he grabbed you by the thighs, lifting you enough to allow you to wrap your legs around his hips. He carried you to the bed, crawling over it on his knees until he reached the middle, then gently lowered you, his lips never once leaving your skin.

Frantically pulling his clothes off in as few movements as possible, he returned to you, kissing a trail down between your breasts, pausing for a moment to just inhale the scent of your skin. He couldn’t believe how much he’d missed the feeling of your skin against his own. His teeth caught the skin on the curve of one breast. Pressing his lips to the mark, he then sucked a bruise into your skin.

Moving up, he swirled his tongue around your nipple, relishing in the sight and sound of you writhing beneath him. He wanted to drown in the sounds of your moans, but… not yet.

Flicking the bud with his tongue, he then closed his mouth around it, sucking softly. 

He let his lips slide down your stomach until he hovered over your pussy, the heady scent making him dizzy with need.

“Fuck I missed this!” he groaned, finally lowering his head to swirl his tongue around your clit, slipping two fingers into you. Slowly, he built you up, feeling your fingers tug at his hair, your thighs shaking as you neared your climax. Pushing you over the edge, he relished in how tightly you clenched around his fingers when you came.

“Shit, Ei, that--”

“One more,” he interrupted, nipping at your inner thigh. “Gimme one more, babe!”

Eijirou had no idea how long he spent nestled between your thighs, switching between slowly lapping and sucking on your clit, occasionally dipping down to press his tongue into your pussy. He only resurfaced when you started pulling insistently on his hair. 

“Stop, Ei, please! No more!” you whimpered. 

He licked his lips, savoring the last of your taste before he sat up, shooting a quick glance to the clock on his nightstand. 01:23 December 1st. 

Merry fucking Christmas to me he thought as he lifted your legs onto his shoulders. Pressing a kiss to your ankle, he lined himself up, gently pressing the head of his cock against your opening.

“Ready, babe?”

When you nodded, he began pushing in, forcing himself to go slow. He’d almost forgotten how good you felt, how warm and soft you were, how tightly you gripped him. 

“Dunno how long I can -nnhg!- can hold on, babe,” he groaned, “it feels too good, you’re so good to me!”

He kept babbling praise as he thrust shallowly, already close to his climax. Pausing for a moment to shift his position to be closer to you, he began losing control, thrusting harder, deeper, lost in the sensation of your warm embrace.

“Fuck, babe, I-- I can’t-- Fuck!!”

Hips stuttering, he spilled inside of you, trying his best to not collapse at the relief. His head sank down on the pillow next to yours, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I love you, babe. I love you so much.”

Winding your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer. “I love you too, Eijirou.”

He relaxed, pressing slow, gentle kisses to any patch of skin he could reach, enjoying the feel of your fingers gliding through his hair, scratching at his scalp.

Post-nut clarity finally lifting the fog in his mind, he realized that he’d undressed so quickly that he still had one sock half on his foot. The realization made him smile into your neck.

You wiggled in his hold, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I didn’t think you’d be able to manage taking it this slow.”

He chucked weakly. “I wanted to savor it.”

Lifting himself off you, he pressed yet another kiss to your lips, muffling your groan as he slid out of you. Then he reached out to grab some tissues from the box on your nightstand and sat up, ready to wipe you down.

But seeing one month’s worth of cum leaking out between your swollen lips had him hard and throbbing again.

He grinned at you. “On your stomach, babe. Ass in the air.”

“Already?” you groaned before complying. 

Eijirou leaned in to kiss your ass cheek before sinking his teeth into it. “‘M not even close to done. I plan on going all night to make up for lost time.”

“None of you made it??”

Eijirou felt warm, hands balling into fists, his cheeks flushing with exasperation. The lack of sleep from the night before was finally starting to bother him. 

“No one, not a single one of you made it through the month??”

His words were met with shrugs, with eyerolls and crossed arms, with averted gazes. The mood was so tense he felt like he could slice through it with his quirk.

“It was too much,” Izuku finally whispered.

“It was stupid, ‘s what it was,” Katsuki added. “Never wanted to do the fuckin’ thing anyway.”

Denki grinned. “But that’s how you failed, Kacchan, you did the fucking-thing anyway.”

“Guys,” Eijirou said, ignoring the smoke rising from Katsuki’s fists, “we were meant to do this together. It was meant to be a challenge!” When no one replied, he added, “Couldn’t you at least have told me that you were out? Then I coulda bailed too instead of suffering from blue balls for thirty fucking days!” As a chorus of mumbled apologies rose into the air, Eijirou thought to himself that he was NEVER doing something like No Nut November again.

[billyharringson]

@101maverick I've put this in a separate post so my original one doesn't get too long but here is your ficlet with tattoo artist Steve and florist Billy.

I really enjoyed writing this and might expand this into a proper fic at some point.

"just go talk to him, dingus." Robin said, causing Steve to tear his eyes away from the window.

"Just go talk to him? Do you hear yourself Buckley?" He asked, returning to his spying as their newest neighbour continued moving about his own shop, carrying a large bucket filled with brightly coloured roses. He gestured behind Robin to the whiteboard she'd hung there a year ago. "You said so yourself, I can't flirt for shit."

Robin glanced at the board, at the 10 tally marks under the 'you suck' column. "I didn't say flirt, I said talk. Go and talk to him."

"What would I even talk to him about?" Steve whined, leaving the window and flopping over the reception desk. "Why would a god like that even speak to me?"

Robin rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh. "Jesus Steve, keep it in your pants okay? Besides, he's tatted to fuck, you've already got something in common." She gestured around at the shop when Steve simply looked blank. "Tattoos dude, he's covered in 'em, you do 'em. Use that as a jumping off point."

"But..." Steve trailed off when the bell above the tattoo shop jingled. He turned to greet whoever had come in and promptly had a minor panic attack.

It was the florist.

Standing there in his tanned, tattooed glory. His golden curls piled on top of his head in a messy bun, a pair of stonewashed dungarees and no shirt, the man didn't even seem to realise that he was a walking wet dream, or that Steve was having trouble breathing.

"Hey." The man said, his smile blinding as he raised a hand. "I'm Billy. I moved in across the road last week, got the flower shop just there." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, his smile dimming somewhat when Steve didn't respond.

"Nice to meet you Billy." Robin said, shoving Steve forward. "The mute here is Steve, he owns the place. I'm Robin, I help his dyslexic ass keep the books."

Billy laughed, walking further into the shop, holding his hand out and beaming when Steve took it. "So, you're the artist huh? I've been admiring your work since I got here." Billy pointed to some of the framed sketches that lined the walls. "What's your waitlist like?"

"Oh, uh... Depends what you want really." Steve finally found his voice, this he could talk about. "What do you have in mind?"

Billy leant against the reception desk, tugging one of the dungaree straps down, exposing one of the few bits of unblemished skin just above his right nipple. "Here I think." He said, tapping the skin. "Another flower, about this big." He circled the spot.

Steve nodded along, pulling his sketch pad towards him as he continued to stare at the exposed skin. "Which flower?"

Billy's grin grew. "What do you know of flower language?" He asked.

Steve blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Uh, I know it exists but I don't know that much about it. Roses mean love though right?"

"Red roses do." Billy agreed, nodding his head. "Or more specifically they mean passion, romance." He traced a beautiful watercolour rose on the inside of his wrist.

"Was it a rose you wanted?" Steve asked, trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters, his cheeks were warm and he was sure he was pink despite the fact that this conversation seemed completely innocent.

Billy shook his head. "No, not a rose. I'd like a green carnation." He said with a wink.

Steve was now certain that he was glowing with how red he must be, because he might not know about flower language but he knew enough LGBTQ history to know what that meant. "A green carnation." He repeated.

"Yup." Billy popped the 'p', his grin just as cocky as it had been since he'd walked in. "You like green carnations Steve?"

Steve nodded, swallowing loudly as he tried to come up with the courage to say what he wanted to. "I do." He said quietly. "Do you like trilliums?"

Billy's face lit up. "I love me a good trillium."

Steve smiled bashfully, looking down at his sketch pad. "I can book you in on Friday, last session of the day."

"Perfect." Billy stepped closer, leaning in and whispering his next words into Steve's ear as he slid a business card across the desk. "That way I can take you out for a drink after, can't I my pretty trillium?"

For info green carnations are a historic symbol for gay men and trilliums are a slightly more recent symbol for bisexuals.

[new-tella-us]

I got a fic!

Aight go easy on me, I haven't written a fic in a while so it might be a little short and jumbled. This is really just to establish the "James Neutral Route" idea that has been brewing in my head for a while.

For now the Fic/Fic Series is gunna be called Neutrality. It may change though.

“When did our nights become so recreational?” 

The thought pierced James’s mind as he read what had become his default book in the recent years. He couldn’t help but look up from his book at the world around him to see what it had become. The warm colored wooden flooring and frankly tacky but comfortably familiar wallpaper of the Anderson manor, the smell of cedar wood from the marble fireplace that burned so dimly covering the library in a soft glow and the dark, starry sky just outside the window that contrast the murky, red sky he was so used to.  

Oddest of all, was her. Mika, the woman that so casually rested her tired head on his right shoulder. She snored so comfortably against his chest. Looking to his side, his vision became covered in her barely tied up curly hair, as dark as the night sky to their left. As normal as such a sight became for James, it still made a side of his mind feel odd. He couldn’t help but find the whole scene almost unreal. Like it was an unrealistic dream, or a play and they were the actors. And that’s when the question would appear in his head. Life had become so slow and full of frivolity, even with running the Anderson Toy company.  

When? 

When did calm, soft nights become normal? Were they ever fully normal to him? Maybe not. He expected them but he wasn’t used to them. 

With a sigh and a shrug, he brushed the thought aside as always. It’s a question that didn’t have a clear answer. Eyes turning back to the book in his hand, the cover more specifically, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Love and Romance. A Study of Intimacy.” His “favorite” book according to his brothers’ teasing. It really wasn’t, there were others he liked more, better written with more solid themes and plots. Even other books from the human world had superior books to this one but, he just kept coming back to it and he barely understood why. 

“Love and Romance...” 

Another topic he felt like he knew casually but never understood. He understood the lust often tacked onto love fairly easily. The rising passion of two or more people when the mood calls for it, the fire that burned in your core until it becomes raging and impossible to ignore. He knew that all too well. He just had to be around the woman currently resting on his chest –whose hair is currently tickling his neck- long enough and he’d feel that rise in passion, often caused by a lack of energy. He perfectly understood that. But love... Love was so complex and fickle. It was a walking contradiction; beautiful yet ugly, powerful with no real power, a peacemaker or a war bringer, and something so very far removed from him. 

He knew better than to try and feel it. If he did, his soul would feel an emptiness. An uncomfortably spacious void where the missing emotion would be. He knew he couldn’t love anyone anymore. Not the romantic love he should feel for her anyway. He could imitate the actions someone with love does and he did care for her, but he couldn’t truly feel it. That book, understanding it more with every read, might be as close as he gets to romantic love he’ll ever get. 

... 

The air always got so cold when he allowed himself to spiral in thought like this.  

Maybe it was time to go to bed. There was no point making the night colder or longer than it had to be. He was about to shake Mika awake when he thought against it. She looked so peaceful on his shoulder; he wanted to preserve that peace before she inevitably ruined it by consuming her -frankly concerning amount of- coffee. Slowly, carefully, he shifted his hands around her waist and under her knees to pick her up in a way humans call “bridal style”. She shifted but when she didn’t seem to wake, he started walking out of the library and down the hallway to the master bedroom.  

The door creaked open, and the royal blue of the room invited him in with its familiarity. He’d become well acquainted with this room over the nights he’s spent serving Mika, especially after his younger brothers, one by one, left the manor and he spent more time keeping the mistress fed and happy, or in this case, rested. A night like this of putting her to bed wasn’t common but not unheard of either. He had gotten used to it enough that he was trusted to undress her and put her in something more comfortable.  

This time, however, he felt that familiar flash of something more carnal at seeing her undressed. He could almost feel the gold whirling through his violet eyes. It wasn’t blinding or overpowering but it did make him stare at her form and curves longer than he should; and it was a good sign that he might be low on energy. He’d discuss that with her tomorrow. For now, he tucked her into bed then headed for the door. 

“Thank you, James,” A soft, tired voice whispered. 

Turning back, he saw Mika staring back at him with a small smile; her emerald eyes barely holding themselves up. He couldn’t help but smile back, her smile always drew him closer, and tonight was no exception. He found himself near skating back to her side, putting a hand on her hair and ruffling it. It was like touching silk or something made of magic and the anxiety of the question that still loomed over him slowly went away. 

“Sleep, you have work tomorrow,” he said as softly as he could make his voice, his hand slowly falling to her cheek. 

Soft skin pressed into his hand as she relaxed. Her eyes closed and when he heard her snoring pick up again, he knew it was safe to leave the room. He closed the door as quietly as you can with a door as creaky as this one before turning to go down the hall towards the stairwell. His walk back to his room on the other side of the mansion gave him time to ponder that question again.  

“When did life become so recreational?”  

He thought on it with a lighter perspective, life became different but like a floating dream. And when? Does it really matter anymore? Life is more recreational, and he’ll live in this recreation until life stops letting him.  

Not everything has to be overthought. 

[remmyswritings]

Wow… I haven’t been back here in ages, but for some reason I was in a mood the other night and started to read through some of my old fics and it just lit up something in me and I was like ok I think I’m gonna start writing again.

I don’t know if any of my old mutuals are still on here, so if any of yall stumble upon this post and want to go back on my taglist just like send a note to my inbox I guess.

Also thank you to my wonderful bestie who I actually met originally through the fics I wrote, she was one of my anons and has become a great great friend who I actually get to see in person nowadays and has done me the wonderful privilege of agreeing to be my beta reader, so THANK YOU 💛

Hope you enjoy this fic, I won’t be revealing who it is though hehehe all I’ll say is that it involves a slytherin x reader pairing. as always, any and all feedback/comments are appreciated :)

The old Black house that is 12 Grimmauld Place was not where you were expecting to spend the summer after your fourth year, but then again it’s become hard to have any expectations for anything since Harry had come out of the maze with the news that he was back. And while you understood truly the danger that was to come, you didn’t feel as terrified as you thought you’d be. For the most part, you spent the summer searching all the nooks and crannies the space could offer you, cuddling up in the room that Hermione, Ginny, and you shared, laughing at the antics of the boys or sharing whispers of dreams and secrets shared under the covers. Hoping, maybe even praying, that one night you all would be offered the chance to sit in on that meeting that every adult occupant of the household sat on in the kitchen. Yet, with closeness gained and hearts and minds penetrated you didn’t have the courage to tell them about the one who plagued your thoughts every time you closed your eyes. At least, until Harry finally made it to the doorway.

Something about his anger, about his burning need to understand what was going on, made you pause… your mother knew, of course, you couldn’t not tell her of your closeness with the Slytherin. But something about Molly’s words, about all of you being children still, that you should be able to still be children… the girls at least, maybe they would find some happiness from your words, or at least cherish the last thing that you’d kept locked away from them.

•••

“You two are really lucky you know,” your fingers gripped and stretched the blanket wrapped around your legs, “Everyone that you care for is in this house, and…” your voice starts to falter.

Ginny and Hermione share a look, before devoting their attention to you. Hermione’s lips part first but it’s Ginny’s voice that makes its ways to your ears. “And?”

“And,” your throat tightens slightly as you continue on, “you don’t have to worry about anyone asking questions when we get back to school.” Your eyes drift back down to your fingers, the girls waiting patiently- at least trying to, before they can’t help themselves.

“Are you talking about someone specific?” Hermione’s voice starts slowly, while Ginny’s picks up the pace, “Someone who’s not just a friend?”

You nod, your eyes widening as your whole body just visibly relaxes under their careful gaze.

The silence in the room stills, just for a second, but enough for you to consider your next moves carefully. Nothing in the house disturbs the three of you as you finally shift off the bed, digging deep into your trunk as you pull out the small letter box, and with a nod you take of the lid, letting the contents be shown to people other than yourself.

At first, the girls’ eyes flutter between its contents and you- as you once again settle yourself into your previous position on the bed. A small smile starts to show as your fingers pick up some of the letters, flipping through them slowly until you find what you wanted. Staring at it with a delicate look in your eye, the rest of the pile returns to its rightful place in the box, as your free hand traces the person they’ve yet to see.

“Don’t freak out, please,” the picture’s contents come into view, and although you’d asked, Ginny can’t help the small gasp that comes out of her.

Her and Hermione once again find themselves trading looks, only this time there’s a bewilderment on both their faces. Hermione’s face suddenly turning red as she starts, “… Z-Zabini. You mean to tell us you’re dating Blaise Zabini….” Her voice trails off at the end.

To in shock of the image of Blaise wrapped up next to you, so oblivious in his need to look at you, you’re the only one to catch the picture in progress, they only hear the smack of your face making contact with your hands.

It’s not a violent move and yet, it’s suddenness makes you all look at one another and giggle- rather hysterically if other members of the household were to pass by the room at that moment. And giggle and giggle you do as you start to nod your head at Hermione’s question.

And then it calms once again, only for you to open your mouth, “Well I wouldn’t say we’re dating-” Ginny cuts you off, “What?” You splutter, “I-I mean, I fancy him like a lot, like a bloody lot. And ya sure we went to the Ball together, and he gives me all these looks supposedly, and we go to Hogsmeade together,” your voice rambles on until you pause, your eyes widening as you remember the event that was your goodbye at the station. “and then there was you know when he- well when I- we kissed.”

You stare, the only reminder that time still passes on from the distant sounds of Molly taking control of the kitchen and the stomps of feet going up and down the staircase.

That is until the tidal wave of Hermione’s and Ginny’s voices hit you, as they process your final words, “How can you two not be dating?” “When did this start?” “Actually, when did you even become friends?” “Tell us everything-” “YES. EVERYTHING.”

In the back of your mind, a voice- a distinctly deeper one than your own- resonated: did you really have to tell them?