#especially directly above the pulse

[humberg]

Seduce like no one is watching.

[sl4sh3rsub]

rz michael myers hcs (nsfw: mdni)

rz michael myers x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: a lot here. mikey has a monster cock, insecure + inexperienced michael, he doesn't talk but makes noise + mouths words + grunts syllables sometimes (selectively mute ig?), oral sex (both giving and receiving), excessive creampies, fingering (receiving), no lube we die like men his dick n spit does it for him, masturbation, rimming (both giving and receiving), knife kink, excessive mentions of precum + spit + cum, creative use of cum/arousal fluids in arts projects, musk kink, choking (receiving), mentions of sex toys, thigh humping, mention of canon SA and violence (nothing w/ or directly involving reader), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), cum eating, slight somnophilia, bruises and hickeys, cockwarming, slight worship (receiving), dry humping, handjobs, 2 mentions of him having a mini shrine to you, mentions of needle hrt in ftm + mtf bits (feel free to ignore), mentions of the institute/asylum

a/n: sorta edited. tried not to be too ooc, but it's more focused on a softer side of michael - personally i think his character is very different to og/peepaw myers! rz mikey is more based in instinct rather than previous experiences/societal expectations, so there's more general hcs than separate sections this time. NOTE: feel free to read any sections, tried my best to not use gendered terms in agab sections but lmk how i can improve :3

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

as michael is very inexperienced with kissing, he'll smash his lips against yours and become a huffing mess after he gets worked up from your breath mingling with his and your darkening gazes meeting

if you play with his hair and gaze into his eyes, he can't help it if he gets half-hard - his body will always needily react to your attention and affection

he's most at home in grey sweatpants - he's very used to wearing them while making his masks and associates them with comfort and the years of creatively honing his craft

so naturally, don't be surprised when his already impressive girth pulses and thickens at the sight of you bending over or reaching something off a high shelf

mikey will absolutely make you your own special mask!! although, the glue he uses for your personal paper mâché mix is a bit more,, personal. he'll also use your arousal to paint the inner layer of his favourite mask :( he simply needs to have some semblance of you with him at all times, especially whenever he's out on the town and away from your embrace

he's borderline hypersexual and gets half-hard and extremely sensitive without reason, however he doesn't always feel the need to act on his urges with you. expect him hiding his arousal during mundane activities, getting flushed and shy when he realises that you notice :<

if he's comfortable on the couch, he'll make himself at home with a horrendous manspread. naturally, this leads to him getting flustered whenever you kneel in between his legs with a mischievous glint in your eye. if you ask him sweetly, he'll be more than happy to sit you in between his strong thighs and let you hump into his hand while you both watch a movie

if he's not feeling like he wants to be inside you, he'll lie on his back with his knees up, pulling you to straddle his waist and lean back against his thighs. from this angle, he's able to watch you play with yourself and masturbate above him while feeling your weight grounding him, just out of reach but almost close enough to taste

he loves taking you from behind and kissing the base of your neck, your breathless giggles echoing in his ears as his long hair tickles your shoulders and back

michael loves having you cockwarm him while he makes his masks!! he adores it when you doze off with your cheek smushed into his shoulder during a late night arts-and-crafts session, the slow pulse of his heartbeat deep inside you

he's so, so incredibly thankful for you, that he's able to unleash his frustrations into you, whether it be about a ripped mask or just about pentup emotions. he's eternally thankful for your love and under the table support

you are mikey's angel, his true saving grace. after his long bout at the institute, he was fully convinced that being loved by anyone was impossible for him. your welcoming arms and gentle praise proved him wrong and completely changed his image of heaven - to michael, it's no longer a cloudy sky mentioned in those old books, it's your warm embrace and loving gaze. it just took him a little while to realise that he was in his own little paradise with you

he tries his hardest to treat you with absolute reverence and adoration T-T he's devoted to making you feel good with him, no matter what. usually, this means holding back from skullfucking you at a brutal pace whenever you give him head. your throat is just so tight around him :( it's got him steadying himself against a wall with his hand, shaking and sweating from holding back, with his gorgeous, garbled moans encouraging you to swallow the saltiness of his length

mikey's wandering hands always end up on your ass or tummy whenever you cuddle together, it's just comforting for him

he's one of the strongest, largest men to ever walk the earth, but the way he gently traces your facial features makes you forget that completely. michael handles you like you're made of porcelain, only using soft pressure unless you assure him he won't break you easily

he has a big, strong and beefy body. lord knows how he maintained it in the institute but with you, he's gonna try his damnedest to put all of his strength to good use - whether it be getting you off while fingering you, his toned forearms barely breaking a sweat or his tree trunk thighs tensing while you ride them

mikey is not trimmed or well-groomed downstairs, his pubes are a wild and unkempt cloud of blonde and light grey hair, so you know he's not caring about how you look at all. you're a fuckin deity in his eyes and he'll dispose of anyone who makes you feel anything other than heavenly

michael is uncut, big and thick, with a large vein running up the underside - so heavy and large that it can't even stand up against his belly, instead slightly bobbing with his pulse and hanging low. it's the type you see in lewd magazines, where it tilts down even when fully hard

when you're on your knees for him, expect his weepy cockhead to drip onto your face while you kiss and nip at his heavy, full balls

oh yeah, this man has the definition of breeder balls; hanging low, swollen and filled to the brim with his potent cum. he truly has so much to give, so you'd better be ready for multiple loads throughout the night

in contrast to michael's hard cock, his nipples are soft and incredibly sensitive. if he's trying to cum as fast as possible, he'll sneak a hand up his shirt and pinch at them relentlessly - make sure they're puffy and spit-glazed after you've been ontop, he goes absolutely feral would really appreciate it

mikey has massive hands too - his fingers are enough to fill you considerably, but he often resorts to stuffing your mouth with them or using his palm to muffle your noises if you're being vocal. he definitely doesn't want the cops called on you just because he's great at pleasuring you

his cock feels heavy inside you, almost like he's deep in your chest whenever he bottoms out. the weight is absolutely dizzying as it stretches you out each thrust and rubs all of the right places. he easily gets drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him, leading to his head being tossed back with drool dribbling down his chin at the sensation

he has the biggest size kink possible but he really doesn't want to get carried away when exerting his strength and size on you - he doesn't want to get carried away or hurt you too badly :(

michael uses whatever knife he can get his hands on during foreplay to add a bit of risk and edge. cutting off your underwear and shirt, tracing down thighs and hips and gently nicking your skin every once in a while, but he quickly tosses it if you beg him to fuck you desperately enough - he doesn't wanna hurt you that bad, not before he's even gotten started

mikey is incredibly insecure about himself and his own worth as a person. he fears your love is only temporary and that you'll move on, leaving him behind as a memory or an adrenaline rush of foolish regret :( for that reason, he's terrified to go too hard or hurt you badly - he's convinced you'll be in pain and be fearful of him if he fucks up. be sure to reassure him when you're together after you have a rougher time and he's manhandling you more <3

initially when he learnt about dry humping, he was confused as to why he craved the friction so desperately but he's learnt to give in - michael will almost immediately cum in his pants if you quietly reassure him you'll clean up the mess you're both bound to leave on his clothes. half the fun (in his eyes, at least) is seeing you get flustered over the sheer amount of his load that's seeping into his boxers from just that little bit of friction

his favourite place to have you is on his lap - cockwarming, cuddling or napping, he does not care. he needs to have your face pressed into his neck with his larger frame providing you with warmth and stability

will rarely fist his cock but if you ever catch him, you might be able to make out his lips repeating the shape of your name over and over

for a long while at the start of your.. arrangement, he had no idea how to initiate sex. he'd just hover close to you, desperately hoping you'd notice the heat radiating from his massive, obvious bulge. would start to bite the inside of his cheek and guide your body towards him in a desperate hint if you didn't clock it immediately

he also did not know shit about the human anatomy, so he'll need you to guide him to where you want to be touched and with a bit of coaching, he'll learn the correct pressure and pace to get you off easily

if you tease him while he's in his overalls, the sight of his lower region slowly darkening with his endless pre and the sound of his haggard breathing devolving into animalistic grunts is nearly enough to make your knees give out

michael isn't a massive fan of fucking you on your bed, especially if your room is in a similar layout to his back at the institute. haunting memories brought on by the guards cast negative clouds across his mind and that is the last thing he wants with you. he'd much prefer to go at it against a wall, the couch or even the floor. most of the time, around his desk is where the action happens and your bed is solely reserved for sleep <3

he loves smearing his precum all over your face, loves letting his musk seep into your skin while your eyes glaze over with lust

he cups your chin, cheek and jaw whenever you have his full attention and his heart melts when you nuzzle into him - his thumb plays with your bottom lip and if you decide to suck on it to keep your mouth occupied, so expect to have mikey silently begging you to cockwarm him while his brain goes fuzzy

while you relax for the evening, watching a movie together, expect him to position you with your head on his thigh (your face way to close to his crotch ofc)

michael loves you sucking on his soft cock and warming him with your mouth, he adores the slow feeling of him growing hard as you moan and gag around his length

when you introduce him to the concept of the sixty-nine position, he absolutely short-circuits. what do you mean you can both suffocate in each other's musk while getting each other off?? what do you mean he can prop himself up above you so he can spend time teasing you while forcing you to choke on his length???

michael always cums a bit too quickly and a bit too much - the moment he enters you for the first time, he can't help but fill you up immediately (good thing he's blessed with inhuman stamina)

he's also the biggest fan of you offering to clean up the mess of his cum dripping down his shaft - if your ass is a bit tender and sore from his rough pace, he's more than happy to soften in your mouth while the two of you catch your breath and wind down

mikey isn't very confident with toys and would much rather pleasure you by himself, but he wouldn't mind learning slowly what you prefer over time

he's also not a fan of lube - it feels too cold on his skin and the slippery nature of it scares him a little, so the best way to get him all coated in pre (for your comfort ofc) is to rim him. his tip drools and spits out so much of his arousal whenever you fuck him with your tongue, rest assured it'll bubble down his shaft and drip onto your chest. the delicious flush of his neck and upper chest is a glorious sight to behold

he first feels the urge to make love to you slowly after he sees a steamy, romantic sex scene with a married couple on television - he wants to give you the warmth and care the actors portray on screen

when you first offered to give him head, he tentatively slapped his cock against your tongue to test waters and see if you liked the taste but ended up addicted to the feeling. he'll smack it against your lips and tongue every time you're on your knees for him

his heavy balls slapping against your chin while he floods your mouth with salty, thick warmth is one of his favourite sounds

he starts breathily whimpering in his gravelly voice whenever he fully bottoms out in your heat, one of the rare moments when he totally loses control over his lust for you

he grunts out the syllables of your name when he's about to cum, digging his fingers into your hips and nipping your neck, leaving deep marks on your skin

mikey gets the same rush whenever you both cum together as to when he stabs someone and kills them after a long game of cat and mouse - there's a reason why the french call it 'petit mortis', a little death

the first time the two of you had sex, it brought out such intense emotions from michael that he was left shaken, crying from confusion about the onslaught of feelings he just shared with you. he is originally torn between holding you close and never letting you go as well as instantly leaving and isolating himself in his own space - like he's used to. he needs time to fully mull over the situation and new sensations he experienced but he would really like to have you nearby incase he needs a hug :(

on a long day, after you've given him head, he'll softly catch his breath while watching you blissfully hum and rest your cheek against his thigh. he huffs a small chuckle as you press light kisses into his softening cock

myers really doesn't want to hurt your ass or bruise your upper thighs too much as he needs to have you perched on his lap whenever he can, but you can expect tender skin from his hips slapping into you as well as bruises from his grip on your waist and hips

if he was too rough with you the night before (maybe accidentally leaving bone-deep bruises or purple marks and scratches along your body), he'll disappear early next morning and return during breakfast with a fistful of fresh tulips as an apology, with their stems partially crushed. just be sure to rinse off the dirt still attached to the roots, it's the thought that counts :<

michael may be inexperienced and bashful but he'll try anything once if it gets you off and brings you pleasure

michael loves to place his hand around your throat, just as a reminder of his sheer strength and power over you. with the slightest amount of pressure, he could make your brain go dumb and your tongue loll out

he chokes you until your eyes become unfocused, your little gasps and whines becoming softer and softer. the proud glint in michael's eyes is deserved, as you fully trusted him with your life while you were in your most vulnerable position. he holds you close while you unsteadily catch your breath, mumbling about how good you are to him and stroking your hair all the while

if you're too shy to look up at him while he fucks you or gives you head, he'll tilt your chin up and groan when your cheeks flush at his blown out pupils

he's the type to not pull out after, needing to soften and catch his breath while still feeling connected, inadvertently overstimulating you without fail as his whole body is racked with aftershocks

if he's feeling mean, michael will make you hump his thigh while he palms at his dick during one of his arts and crafts sessions

he wipes the last dribbles of his cum on your inner thighs after he pulls out. he'll clean it either way - with a damp towel or his tongue, it's up to you <3

occasionally after a spree, he'll need to let his mind rest and will use you as his cute little fleshlight, burying himself deep inside you while guiding your hips along with his rhythm at a bruising pace. if you pay close attention, you'll see his lips forming silent prayers and whispers of apology whenever you yelp from the pace

his post-kill musk is potent enough to make your head spin. if you rest your cheek against his pectoral, you'll be able to feel his heartbeat start to slow against you :<

his guilty pleasure is pulling out while cumming thick spurts, slapping his tip across your skin while smearing his load all over you, be it your lips and cheeks or ass and thighs

michael doesn't want to disturb your sleep if he's needy, so he'll slip your hand in between his boxers and pajama pants to feel your smaller hand against his throbbing bulge. he's content to doze like that but expect to feel him humping into your fist while he sleeps. you may wake to the sound of sheets rustling as he licks up the mess he made, much too tired to change sheets but not wanting it to dry and soil your sheets

he insists on placing his hand firmly on the back of your neck whenever he takes you from behind - to stop you from fucking yourself back on his cock and squirming at his pace

after sex with mikey, it's a common occurrence for you both to be a panting mess on the floor when he's done, your throat sore from mindless babbling and loud moans - all complete with a wet, drool-covered spot on your shirt from his grunts through gritted, gnashed teeth. when he's floated back into the right headspace, he's absolutely mortified by his behaviour and is tentative to even glance at you in a less than innocent way for the next couple hours

if your soft body goes limp in his arms after a mind-blowing orgasm, he gets scared at first and stops his thrusts. he's worrying he hurt you but, once he realises you're alright, he'll support your head and neck and go completely feral, thrusting and grinding until he reaches his high as well

whenever you fall asleep ontop of him, he needs to have your face tucked into the crook of his neck - the scent of your hair and sex in the air lulls him to sleep quicker than any sedative could

he adores your attention while you both bask in your respective afterglows - your hands gently cradling his face while he tucks himself away is one of his favourite, most soothing actions of yours. he'll always rub circles into your skin in return

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

michael is inexperienced and completely driven by instinct when it comes to giving head - he wouldn't be deep-throating, instead focusing on your tip and licking along your veins. he's a master of giving handjobs, with the amount of spit he shamelessly coats you with (not to mention his rougher hands)

if he's particularly needy, he'll come up behind you and gently undo your belt while tracing his fingers over your zipper, nosing at your jaw and softly rutting into your ass while panting above you

the moment your fly is undone, his breathing gets ragged and drool nearly starts dripping down his chin

cages you against a bench or wall to rut against your ass and breathe in your scent after a long day at work

if you introduce him to rimming,, lord save your soul. his scruff rubs your ass raw with how often he goes to town on your tight, puckered hole. his favourite bit is pulling back and admiring how you glint in the light with his spit shining all over

of course, the extra spit only helps his efforts of bullying his throbbing cock into your poor hole

whenever michael is close to the edge while buried deep in you, he starts uncontrollably twitching and bumping your prostate, causing you to let out a pitchy whine at the unexpected feeling. every time without a doubt, his eyes roll back and growls into your ear at you clenching around him

he has a small photo shrine of your cocks together, a mess of cum and spit framed for his appreciation (he's a romantic)

his dirty fantasy is getting your attention while you're on the phone in bed by mouthing and groping at your cock, working you through the fabric of your pants

michael is obsessed with rutting his cock against yours, covering each other in your arousals, cum spurting up onto your chests as you nip and kiss at each other's chest and throat

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

mikey loses his mind a little each time you cream on his shaft, feeling your arousal dripping down to his balls and coating the insides of his thighs. just the thought of your slick coating him is enough to make his eyes roll back

he rips or cuts your underwear off you if he's too impatient to wait for you to fully undress

once michael is fully stuffed inside you, he gently traces where you meet, in awe of how he manages to fit in your heat

his large hands span over the bulge of his cock in your tummy, making you tear up at the pressure and drip onto the sheets

leans his head closer to your ear just to make sure you hear his groans and grunts while he destroys your pussy

his favourite sight is his pearly globs of cum oozing out of your puffy, soaked hole - made complete by the fucked out glaze in your eyes as you stare at the blurry spectre of a giant between your thighs

he tentatively gropes your thighs and enjoys warming his hands by sticking them up your shirt. if you both happen to make an appearance in public, expect him to crowd around you to try and shield you form from wandering eyes - he may be yours but you're also his, so no one has a right to touch or even look at your precious body (especially not your soft tits or ass, they're for him only)

teach him to tie his hair in a messy bun or acquire a hairband for him to keep his hair from getting sticky whenever he does down on you, slurping and worshipping your pussy like it's his god-given purpose on this earth

once he tries taking you in a mating press, he accidentally discovers heaven. he can fully dwarf you in his shadow and also cradle your pretty face while erratically thrusting and groaning in that raspy voice you love. if he fucks you dumb, he's more than happy to wipe away your tears

sometimes michael hesitates pushing into you for fear of it hurting too much, unintentionally resulting in him working you up by teasing your entrance with his thick cockhead then nudging your clit, fully soaking his length in your arousal

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes

michael's sadistic side comes out when he spanks your cock until your sloppy boycunt is drooling onto the mattress. he makes sure to gently slip his finger in your hole every so often, his delight in your whines is very evident when you can feel him throbbing under you

his strong forearms easily hold down your hips to stop them from rutting into his mouth whenever he sucks you off, making you shiver with every thrust of his tongue. his dick is neglected while he goes to town, not that mikey minds at all. he knows he'll be able to go balls deep after you've cum at least once to loosen up for him

due to his strength, he'll keep you still even while you become overstimulated, the pleasure bordering on pain but he's too far gone to care - this man becomes so pussydrunk that he can barely process that he's stained all of the material in your immediate vicinity with your arousal; your pants, his shirt, the carpet and not to mention the couch or bedsheets from his erratic wiping of his fingers when they get too slippery

loves to have you bouncing on his cock - grabbing your hips until they're bruised to control the pace and depth, pushing you to take all of him inside

sometimes if you look extra delectable while attempting to reach something off of a high shelf, michael may not be able to control himself and his craving for your taste - he will bend you over with no hesitation and make out with your cunt, nose glistening in your folds as his chapped lips graze against your tdick and his chin dripping with your pre. his massive hands groping your ass as he spreads your legs for better access

the rhythmic clapping of his heavy balls slapping your sopping cock is forever engrained in his mind, sometimes resurfacing at the most inconvenient times - he will be forced to rush home in the middle of an attempted spree just to feel your body against his

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes

michael chases the sensation of having you pressed up against him while you're wearing clothing he's gotten you

he loves you feeling pretty whenever you're on top, tucking your hair behind your ear and using his thumb to swipe his cum off your chin

he will make you do your makeup before you fuck, needing you to feel as beautiful as possible while he absolutely destroys your hole - lipgloss smeared, mascara running, hair mussed and bruises all over your hips. he views you as a goddess, so expect him to make you feel like one

when you guide him to take your balls in his mouth, he'll eagerly suckle on them then return to your tip for his reward, eager to lap up your arousal with obscene slurping noises and proud huffs of satisfaction

he has a small shrine of your panties he's borrowed, keeping the ones with the dainty floral details for 'creative inspiration'

mikey gently squeezes on the back of your neck when preparing to take you from behind - he cannot simply cum from you squirming in impatience and grinding into him, he's not even inside you yet (it would be a waste quite frankly)

as his stubble rubs you raw whenever he eats you out, prepare for the bubbling heat beneath your skin to return tenfold whenever he fucks your thighs like a madman

_ _ _ _ _

sorry if writing quality dropped, this took so long lmao. art the clown is next btw, look out for that.

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

[fangswbenefits]

Breakfast in Bed

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Miguel wakes you up to breakfast in bed.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Lactation + breastfeeding kink. Fangs. Hungry Miguel. Also an unexpected lesson in Biology from yours truly. Loosely based on this ask.

By the time your eyes fluttered open to the faint light that poured through the blinds, you realised you were in a bit of a predicament.

1. You had woken up with a throaty moan.

2. Your clit was suddenly pulsing lightly.

3. A very much naked Miguel O’Hara was on top of you, latching greedily around one nipple.

“Good morning to you, too,” you giggled with a yawn, stretching out your arms and legs under him.

A pair of half-hooded crimson eyes met yours. You could get lost in those, especially that look on his handsome face. It was such an ego booster to have Miguel O’hara being so needy for you in the bedroom.

“Is this your definition of breakfast in bed?” you asked as you reached out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead.

Miguel was also extremely greedy.

He didn’t let go of your nipple until you arched into him with a sigh.

Two strong and broad arms lifted him from your breast, so he could hover above you with a devious grin, lips dripping with milk as the faint tips of his fangs peeked through.

“You do know I can sense your heart rate,” he said in a low voice, lowering his face to have droplets of milk drip onto your lips. “Go on… taste yourself,” he whispered.

Your heart skipped a beat. Or several. You couldn’t be sure. Reflexively, you allowed your tongue to swipe along your lower lip to collect the droplets of your own sweet milk.

Miguel smirked as he settled between your legs, and you gasped as his cock settled between your already wet folds.

“Don’t be greedy and drink all of it,” you teased.

He pressed a trail of wet kisses along your cheek until he reached your ear. “The more milk I drink, the more you’ll produce,” he said. “So you do need me to be greedy.”

Ah, of course. A masterclass in Biology from Miguel O’Hara himself. What more could one ask for? But what truly made your insides melt in adoration was the fact that he was absolutely correct.

“A lesson in Biology this early in the morning?”

He let out a strained grunt, moving his body down along yours again, pressing hungry kisses across one breast, deliberately avoiding the nipple.

You gasped lowly as his cock began to slide at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“Milk production is directly tied to stimuli,” he went on in between kisses. “We have - need to increase that rush of oxytocin and prolactin.”

Although his words were true, you couldn’t help but to giggle. “Oh, so this is just you being purely altruistic, hm?”

He hummed against your warm skin, the underside of his cock dragging deliciously against your swollen clit.

“You’re just making sure our daughter has enough supply.”

“Of course,” he said as his tongue lapped at your nipple to taste the beads that poured from it. “Father of the year.”

This man would be the death of you. In just under five minutes he had managed to get you closer and closer to the edge with just how smug he could be.

“Indeed…” you moaned approvingly.

One hand came to squeeze your other breast and he quickly moved to the side to latch on to it with blinding hunger. Your hands flew to his hair and you kept swaying your hips against his cock, feeling strings of precum pool against your clit.

Your fingers clenched around locks of his hair for support.

“Always so selfless,” you said, knowing that praise was still the easiest and quickest way to both his heart and cock alike. “What would be of us without you?”

He picked up on your teasing tone and two fangs began to poke gently at your senstive skin.

He was good. Too good.

But life had a way of being ironic, and the baby monitor suddenly lit up, alerting both of you that your baby daughter had woken up.

Miguel grunted against you, reluctantly tearing himself from your swollen nipple, milk pouring from the corners of his mouth and down his chin and neck. You glanced down to where his cock had settled between your folds, knowing fully well he was beyond annoyed that this session was cut short.

Even through the haze of pleasure, you managed to laugh, caressing a flushed cheek. “Go on, Miguel. Go be father of the year.”

You using his own words against him had him mumble a string of profanities in Spanish.

Masterlist

[littlemissmiller]

His Good Girl 🎀

Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: you’re famous in the capitol, everyone wants you or to be you, but only coriolanus get to have you. the night you and him take your relationship public, his jealousy and possessive nature overcomes him. he decides to make it clear who you belong to.

Warning: 18+ smut, praise kink, dom!snow, sub!reader, fingering, p in v, oral (f receiving), cum play, hickeys, possessiveness, jealously, porn with a plot

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: hello again :D! wow back to back posts look at me go. so i was struggling to figure out what i was going write next and didn’t expect to post again so soon until like next week, but i stumbled across this in my notes app last night after i published my billy the kid fic and here we are. so enjoy! im not sure what to write about next still. may drop a pedro fic next who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so anyways here is another dark!coryo for ya ❣︎

Artwork

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

Snow found you sitting by the window in his bedroom, gazing out upon the pedestrians as they walk by.

You hadn’t heard him come in and aren’t alerted to his presence until the door closes behind him. You startle and whip your head around. He stands still behind you, his head cocked to the side slightly as he examines you, with a devilish grin on his face. His eyes trail up and down your body. You weren’t expecting him to be home yet, so he had found you in your silk, pink robe embroidered with small white roses. You were clearly fresh out of the shower and about to change into something suitable for the evening and dinner later that night.

“You’re home!” You exclaim

“Is that ok?” Coriolanus asked knowing that the question was completely rhetorical. As if he could only come to his own home whenever you felt it was suitable.

“I just wasn’t expecting you home so early. At least not for two more hours. I was hoping to be all ready for you.” You explain

All ready for him. Coriolanus liked how submissive that sounded. He likes when you were obedient and perfect for him. Especially the last few months as you and him took your relationship further. By now, he has expected you to be at his apartment by the time Coriolanus had gotten home from the University. Given your schedule, he knew he wasn’t keeping you from anything or taking you away from anything either. So where else would you have to go except come to his apartment. And you did.

“I can see. What are you wearing tonight?” Coriolanus asks

Excitedly, you bounce up and rush over to the wardrobe where your dress is hanging up. In your hurry, your robe reveals a part of your bare thighs which Coriolanus takes note of and enjoys the subtle view of your body. You open one of the doors and reveal a pink dress hanging on the back of the door. It’s silk like your robe and Coriolanus already knows that the moment you have it on, he’ll want to tear it off you.

“It’s the one you said you liked the other day at the shop so I sent in an order and had it sent here today.”

Coriolanus thought to himself as he takes a few strides towards you. Good. You are sending things to his apartment. As it should be.

“Just as beautiful as the girl wearing it.” He smiles and walks over behind you.

He grabs your shoulders and his lips give your neck a firm kiss, directly on your pulse. You take the dress from the inside of the door and reveal the mirror attached to the inside of the wardrobe. You hold it up to you, imagining what it will look like on you tonight. You catch Coriolanus’s gaze in the mirror. His blue eyes are piercing through your soul as usual, but there was now a cloud of lust swirling in them. His hands snake towards your waist. He slithers them under your robe and rests them just above your hips. You pretend to not care or notice his actions, but the growing heat in between your legs wants you to give in to him. You tame your labored breathing as you smooth the dress out in front of your body.

“And what will you be wearing, my love?” You ask

“I picked out an all black suit this week. I’ll make sure to adorn a white rose now that I’ve seen this.” He states taking a piece of the pink fabric in between his thumb and fore finger “and you’ll put one in your hair, just in case people forget who you belong to.”

“Well I was already planning on wearing the black diamond necklace you gave me. The one with your initials carved on the back.” You respond touching the center of your chest where the necklace would lay. “Or perhaps I should wear the black lace choker…the once with the gem?”

One of Coriolanus’s hands travels up to your neck. As beautiful as the choker was, the thought of you wearing the black necklace with his initials around your neck seems perfect for tonight. It would tell everyone at that dinner that you were undoubtedly his. Yes, it was perfect.

“The necklace will look nice on you tonight. Wear it.” He whispers in your ear, tugging at it slightly with his teeth. You gasp, finally breaking and giving in slightly. The hand, not wrapped around your throat, travels up and down your thigh.

“Whatever you want.” You whisper back trying to hold back a moan as Coriolanus places a light kiss to your jawline. His hand holds your face up to look at him as he does. It’s hypnotic to watch and he knows it.

“If you behave tonight, you’ll be sure to be rewarded.” He reminds you

You hang the dress back up and he spins you around. He dips in and gives you a proper kiss on the lips. He pulls back soon and mumbles against your lips

“Understand?”You nod your head. He tuts at you and squeezes your hips.

“Say it.”

“I understand.”

The two of you finish getting ready. Coriolanus takes his own shower while you attend to your hair and makeup. Thankfully, being around Tigris meant she was always helping to style you. She had taught you what makeup and hairstyle looks best with certain outfits or styles of dress. So for tonight a soft, baby doll look. And your hair, Tigris decides to put half of it up, tying it in place, then setting it with a white rose, just as Coriolanus asked. You take a look at yourself in the mirror. You’re stunning. Sexy and yet elegant. Your makeup was perfect too. You had a faint tint of red blush on your cheeks and nose, your lips were glossy and plump like a ripe plum. You batted your eyes, now long and defined with mascara and smile at yourself.

When Coriolanus finally sees you as you exit his vanity closet, he’s stuck in place. Temptation washing over him. Tigris spun you around, showing you off to him. She left the room, leaving the two of you alone to finish getting ready. You attach your earrings and finally adorn the necklace. You put on a pair of strappy pink heels and find your purse.

“Ready?” You ask admiring how handsome Coriolanus looks in his suit.

Coriolanus steps towards you, closely examining you as he does. His mouth curves into a half grin. As if he is pleased by the sight in front of him. The dress hugs your body beautifully and the half slit up your thigh is tempting. He grips his hands around your waist.

“I am. You look incredible my dove.” He remarks placing a kiss on your forehead

“As do you. Almost perfect.”

“Almost?” he inquires

You nod your head and walk over to the side table next to his bed. Coriolanus takes note and how the dress falls on your hips and how they sway gracefully, yet subtly from side to side. You pick a rose from the vase on the table. You open the drawer and pull out a safety pin and walk back to him. You stand in front of him and look up at him as you pin the white rose to his lapel. You show off the back of your hair. He touched the rose in your hair and smiled. You turn back to him, wrap your arms around his neck, and whisper into his ear.

“Now you are ready.”

You and Coriolanus leave the house, enter the car, and give the driver the directions. Tonight was to be a “private dinner”, however it was truly anything but. The guest list was to be consisted mostly of Panem’s up and coming young politicians from the senior class at the University. Around thirty students, each permitted to bring a guest. It wasn’t anything too special, but rumors of Coriolanus Snow seeing someone had become rather out of hand. So what made tonight special for the pair of them was the public nature in which they were officially announcing their relationship.

Up until now you and him have tried to keep things a secret to avoid attention from the news, given you are a prominent member in The Capitol. Especially your family. Your father had helped create a new weapon manufacturing business after the war and had been regularly contracted by The Capitol to create weapons in the last few years. He had become good friends and business associates with Strabo Plinth. It gave your family status and you some newfound fame. In turn it would help give Coriolanus some as well. But Coriolanus had you in his life for much more than just that. Having you as his own. His girl. It felt thrilling.

Thrilling to know that only he got to have you. It was no secret that your looks were talked about often. Simply because you were so beautiful with a beloved last name. A name almost impossible to escape given your father’s philanthropy as well as service to The Capitol. So the fact that Snow got to have you. Out of all the other wealthy and famous girls, you were the most desirable. The most popular and loved.

Coriolanus rubs your semi-exposed thigh and watches you watch the city pass by.

“Are you nervous my dove?” he asks

You look over at him and smile. You shake your head.

“Not at all.”

Despite this being a private dinner, he was sure that, by the time they left, word of their romantic relationship would get out and the press will try and snap a picture of them. A type of attention Coriolanus hadn’t received in a while and wasn’t sure how he would react this time around. Your attitude towards this evening however, put him a little more at ease.

“Are you?” You follow up

“Slightly. Not ready for all the attention that we will probably get after tonight.”

You look at him sympathetically and squeeze the hand that is rubbing your thigh.

“It will be fine” You reassure him

He looks at you with a new found sense of confidence. He squeezes her thigh as she continues to grip his hand.

The driver arrives to the mansion where the dinner is held. The house of the Dean of Political Science. Coriolanus steps out, rushes to your side and opens the door. He extends his hand and you take it. Both your arrivals change the dynamic of the party. You move through the crowd towards a group of Coriolanus’s classmates. The polite nods, chatter, and occasional laughs turn into head turns, double takes and whispers as you walk past people. Coriolanus looks at you as you walk. You seem unbothered by the attention and loop your arm around his elbow. Once you make it to your table, his classmates greet him.

“Ah Coriolanus! Good to see you!” Festus Creed exclaims

“You as well Festus.”

“And might I say it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Festus follows up extending his hand to you. You take it and greet him.

“Nice to meet you”

Coriolanus officially introduces you and Festus to each other. You then turn to smile at a few of Coriolanus’s classmates hanging around, but they stay back as to not intrude on your boyfriend’s conversation. They whisper to one another. You couldn’t tell if they were talking about you though. What you couldn’t tell was if it was good or bad. Coriolanus knew however. The sneering looks and childish giggles of Livia Cardew and Clemensia Dovecote were looks that he was all too familiar with. Coriolanus looks at you. You seem to have slipped into a polite conversation with Festus, who by the sound of it seems to be a fan. You indulge his enthusiasm. Coriolanus nods at you and walks over to investigate the conversation between Clemensia and Livia’s conversation. As he approaches they seem too caught up to notice him.

“I mean the matching roses. So cheesy.” Clemensia snickers

“And the matching colors. Like give me a break.” Livia follows up

“Also what is that. A night gown? She looks like a whor-“ Clemensia starts

“Clemensia. Livia. How are you two this evening?” Coriolanus asks firmly, cutting her off

“Oh Coriolanus!” Clemenisa startles “Good to see you.” She says, suspicious of if he had overheard their conversation.

“Anything the matter?” He asks

“No. Why would something be wrong?” Livia asks

“I hope there wouldn’t be.” He states in a somewhat threatening manner

“So your date. What a surprise.” Clemensia sneers not at all intimidated by Coriolanus’s stern manner

Coriolanus starts to feel a strong wave of protection over you, with a slight tinge of possession. He looks at Clemensia with a threatening look masked in curiosity.

“How so? I thought there was rumors of us floating around am I wrong?” He asks

“There were, just interesting to see them be confirmed. Happy for you.” She smiles “Seems like you’re not the only one who is infatuated by her.” She snickers

Coriolanus whips his head around to see that a crowd has gathered around you. A few more of the male students in addition to Festus. They ogle you and subtly fight for your attention. Coriolanus finds himself slowly filling up with rage. He forces a smile to Livia and Clemensia, excuses himself, and walks over to you. You watch him as he walks over. He moves to stand behind you, placing both his hands on your shoulders. He dips down to kiss your cheek and you smile.

“Making friends” he jokes trying to hide his anger

“Apparently” you whisper back

As you and Festus continue the conversation and Coriolanus tries to contain himself. He rubs your shoulders. He’s fuming with anger at Clemensia and Livia. And at the other men trying to steal your attention. Part of that is his fault for walking away from you. Letting them have access to your attention. Still, how dare they. And how dare anybody try to insult you. He wouldn’t stand for it. The evening continues and Coriolanus keeps you close to him for the remainder of the dinner. He watches the people around you. The group of boys from before seem to keep their distance now that Coriolanus refuses to leave your side. He also keeps a close eye on Clemensia and Livia. He wants to teach them a lesson for their gossip and wants to gouge that group of boys eyes’ out.

He tries to temper his anger, but his paranoia seems to continually get the best of him. Maybe you’ll leave him for one of them. Get bored, think taking the relationship public like this is too much. Maybe you do think the matching roses are cheesy and think he’s silly for suggesting it. He glances around at the numerous eyes looking at you. He tries to convince himself that every man looking in your general direction isn’t looking at you but he can’t help but notice how their eyes seem to linger. They way they gawk at you disgusts him.

You and him leave, making sure not to linger after dinner is served. Coriolanus is anxious to leave, practically rushing you out of the mansion and into the car. There is an awkward silence on the way back to his apartment and you try to talk to him, but he just shakes his head and whispers firmly “I’ll explain when we get back.”

His mood seems to escalate as the car approaches the apartment. When it arrives he rushes out in a hurry and you thank the driver before trailing behind him.

“Coryo? What’s wrong.” You ask

“Just get inside” he huffs

You walk past him into his apartment and he follows you. He shuts the door and lets out deep breath in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” You ask again

“I can’t stand how people treat you?” He huffs

“What do you mean?”

“The way they talk, the way they look at you.” He explains. He walk over to a chair in the kitchen and flops himself down. His chest rises rapidly as he looks down at the floor. He tries to control his breathing, but the thought of how that group of boys looked at you, plays in his mind. And he can still hear the obnoxious giggles of Clemensia and Livia.

“And you think that I care? That’s how it always is for me.” You sigh with a laugh

Coriolanus still feels upset however and his body language doesn’t change. He’s still fuming.

“What about the attention from all the boys tonight. Do you care about them?” He perks up

“Is that what’s truly bothering you?” You ask stepping closer behind his chair.

“Partly.”

“And what else?” You ask standing behind, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“A few of my other classmates. I caught them gossiping about us.” He confesses

“Hmm. They are probably just jealous.”

He doesn’t respond as he tries to calm himself down.

“I just want to put them all in their place. Show them they shouldn’t mess with us.”

You start to massage his shoulders and he begins to lean back into the chair and relax. You move your hands up towards his neck and continue to massage him. “And tell me what would you do to them?” You ask.

“I want to sew those girls mouth shut. And tear those boys eyes out.”

“Mmm. Maybe you can find something special for them in Dr. Gaul’s lab” you whisper as you feel Coriolanus sink further into your touch. You run your hands up and down his chest. “Or turn them into avoxes. So they never speak again.”

“And those boys?” Coriolanus asks

“Well if you’re upset at them then you’ll have to put a price on everyone’s head who looks at me like that.”

“I just don’t want them getting ideas” he replies

You giggle and continue rubbing his chest.

“Well they’ll think what they want. Not much I can do there. But it doesn’t matter because they’ll never have me. It’s a game to them. And they’ll never win. They will always lose.” You pause to kiss his cheek “And Snow always lands on top right?” You whisper kissing his earlobe and the side of his jaw. He groans and leans his head back in response. You cup the side of his face and rub his cheek. He turns his head and kisses the inside of your palm.

“You’re the only one who gets to touch me. To have me. Only you. No one else gets that right except you.” You whisper

“Am I?” He asks

“Mhmm” you nod

“Show me”

Coriolanus grips your wrist. He pulls your hand off his face and tugs at it, signaling that he want you to come in front of him. You walk around and stand in front of him briefly. He looks at you lustfully and spreads his legs. You stand in between them and grin at him. He rubs your hand as you slide onto his lap. As you sit, you guide his hand to your thigh and under your dress, slowly guiding him.

“See. Only you.”

He inches up and down your thigh. His fingertips graze the inside, making the heat that has begun to bubble up in between your legs more apparent. You move your hips against his crotch and feel his semi-hard cock aching to be free from the confines of his pants. You lean in and kiss him. He kisses you back and snakes his hand further up your thigh. He brushes his fingertips across your core and feels how wet and hot you have become. He lets out a breathy moan, breaking the kiss.

“Is this only for me too?” He mutters. You nod your head and he snakes two fingers under your panties. He starts to lightly rub at your clit. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“So then I can’t be blamed for wondering eyes now can I?” You whisper back

“No, but they will pay. All of them.” He mouths at your jawline and down to your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him better access. He sinks into your neck, with the goal of marking you up. To show everyone that you belong to him. He sucks and bites on your skin, turing the flesh into fresh black and blue bruises. You whimper at the sensation as you melt into his chest.

“Coryo” you whisper

His free hand begins to grope your breasts over the dress and he moves his hand back down your thigh. He swings your legs over his lap and shifts on his seat. He picks you up unexpectedly and you gasp in surprise. You cling to him. He takes you to his bedroom and tosses you on the bed. You gather yourself and scoot back, as he strips himself of his sports coat. He unbuttons his shirt halfway down, then eagerly, he pulls at your ankles. You yelp and he slides you towards him. He smirks at the look of awe on your face. He could tell you were hungry for him. Not just that, but you seem mesmerized by him. Coriolanus couldn’t tell if it was because of the way your eyes were filled with need or that his clear possessiveness over you had you wondering about what was in store for you. He ran his hands up your thighs, pushing your dress up past your hips. He kneels down and his fingers trace the lining of your panties. You jerk your hips slightly and he takes the opportunity to slide them off your legs. You bite your lower lip in an attempt to hold back your moans, but they stifle out as little whimpers that go straight to Coriolanus’s cock.

“So needy for me.” He smirks

He kisses the inside of your thigh and grazes his teeth over the spot he kissed. He begins to leave the same marks he put on your neck. You can’t help but love how much he’s marking you. You know it’s only because he’s frustrated and wants everyone to know not to mess with you. You whine in frustration, needing Coriolanus to touch you.

“Please Coryo. I want you so bad”

He gives you a devilish grin and squeezes your thighs. “Mmm keep begging pretty girl.”

“I need you. Please just touch me.” You whine

He begins kissing your thigh again, all the way up until he reaches your core. You shutter at the feeling as his lips press against your clit. He moves you closer to him and you rest your legs on his shoulders. You reach for his blonde hair, running your fingers through it. He restrains his actions, only pressing light kisses on and around your clit.

“Coryo please…please.” You beg again

“Mmm that’s it.” He moans

He dives in His mouth fully devouring your pussy. He mouths at your clit and you instinctively squeeze your thighs around his face. He presses your legs apart and devours you even more. He sucks and nibbles at your sensitive bud, taking in the pleasure that is spread across your face. Coriolanus likes having this control over you. He likes hearing the small, soft whines that escape your lips and he loves how you beg for him. How you need him. It makes his ego swell in his chest. He knows you’re addicted to him. He knows that he makes you feel so good. He laps up your wetness and runs his tongue along your folds. It makes your hips buck, causing him to put a stern hand on your stomach.

“Take it baby girl. Try to stay still.” He murmurs against you

You nod your head as he gives kitten licks to your clit before sucking it into his mouth. Without warning, he removes his mouth and replaces the sensation with his fingers. He watches you carefully as your face contorts. He doesn’t hold back as he pumps his fingers into you. You look even more beautiful for him like this. Willing and submissive to his touch. You’re perfect, pretty face scrunched up in pleasure. He drinks you in as he runs his tongue up your thigh. You jerk your hips and he pushes your body back down on the bed. You’re throbbing at this point, so hypnotized under him. He crawls back up to you. His tongue licks a long stripe up your neck, just as he did to your thigh.

“So desperate. Are you gonna be good for me?”

You nod your head, which lands you a firm slap to the meat of your thigh.

“Speak up princess.” He warns

“Yes Coriolanus, I’ll be good for you.”

He strokes the side of your face, his knuckles brush up against your cheek. His hand moves to grip your chin and under your jaw. He forces you to look into his sinful gaze. He leans in and clashes his mouth with yours. He fights to dominate the kiss and you let him. He sits you up as you continue to kiss him. He unzips the back of your dress and it slides down your shoulders. In the same motion, Coriolanus unhooks your bra. He brushes your straps from your shoulders and pulls the rest of the dress from your body. You lay there, completely bare for him. You feel vulnerable, especially given his clothes are still on. You feel like his prey.

“So beautiful like this.” He states rubbing your thighs. He sits up on his knees, towering over you. He begins to explore your body with his hands. He moves them up to kneed and cup your breasts. His fingers gently massage your nipples as he pulls at them. You wince at his actions, squirming under his touch.

“Coryo please I need more…” you beg, your tone sounding desperate and whiny

He smirks. He leans down close to you and gives you a few chase kisses to your neck and up to your ear.

“I like how you sound when you beg. So pretty.”

He tugs at your earlobe with is teeth, causing you to shutter. The action of it going straight to your throbbing core. He rubs his fingers through your slit, humming to himself. He removes them, causing you to whine. He unbuttons the rest of his shirt, revealing his perfectly toned chest. He then unzips his pants and steps out of them. At this point his cock is hard and ready under his briefs. He rubs himself through his underwear as he gazes down at you.

“Touch yourself.” He commands and you obey

Your fingers dragging through your folds slowly as you look back up at him, mouth agape.

“There you go. Good girl.”

“Coryo” you whisper. He smirks at you and pulls his briefs down and his cock springs forward. This isn’t your first time with Coriolanus. Still, every time you got nervous and he could tell. Your fingers slow down and you think about having to take him in you.

“What’s wrong my pet?”

“Just you’re so big Coryo.”

He gives you another smirk “Yeah, but you can take it right? You always take me so well.” He growls, slithering his hand around your neck.

He kisses you as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides in slowly. At first it’s painful and he keeps his eyes focused on your face to get a read on how you feel. You temper your breathing and try to fixate on how handsome the face staring back at you is. He pushes into more until he reaches the hilt and his hips meet yours. You sigh in relief as the pain replaces with pleasure. You moan and he captures your lips. He dominates you. His lips move fast with yours. He’s clearly just as hungry for you as you are needy for him. His tongue swirls around with yours and he starts to move his hips. You moan again and he breaks the kiss. He looks down at the spot where you both connect and shutters. His gaze returns to yours.

“See. Look how well you take me. Just like you always do. So good for me.”

You nod your head in agreement and wince. He picks up his pace, thrusting deeper and deeper each time. His cock drags in and out of your pussy with ease now, the pain totally subsided. You nod in agreement, but that doesn’t satisfy Coriolanus. He needs to hear you say how much you like it. How much you crave this feeling he gives you. A feeling only he can give you.

“Talk to me. Use that pretty mouth of yours.”

“You feel so good.” You start hesitantly

“More.” He demands

“Mmhm Coryo you fill me up so well. Better than anyone else.” You moan

“The best you’ve ever had?”

“Mhmm.” You moan

In response he grabs your chin and forces you to look into his eyes.

“Use. Your. Words” he demands,, pumping into you harder with each word.

“Yes Coryo, you’re the best I ever had. And you’re the only one I want ooh…” you whine

“Good girl.” He grits through his teeth, giving you more of himself. He hit deeper and deeper, his lust fully overtaking him. He kisses you harshly, pinching and massaging your cheeks. “Only I get to have you like this. You understand?”

“Yes Coryo. I understand.” You mewl

He nods against your mouth. You feel your buildup coming, tense in your stomach, waiting to release. With a few final thrusts, you come around his cock. Your hips buck up, legs shaking, cunt throbbing as he fucks you through your euphoria. Soon enough he’s finishing inside you, stuffing warm ropes of white cum down your hole. You float down from the feeling that he gave you and temper your breathing. He pulls out, admiring as his cum drips out of you. He gets greedy, taking his index finger and pushing it back into you. You moan as he fingers you

“My sweet girl. I hope you know who is here for you. I’ll always watch over you. I’ll never let anyone disrespect you again.”

He pulls his hand away and traces his fingers over your neck, where he had previously sucked and marked you up. He smirked to himself. He puts his finger in your mouth. You suck yours and his collective cum off it and he coos at you.

“I get you all to myself. How fortunate for us both then hmm.

“Mhmm.” You nod, too fucked out to properly respond. As much as Coriolanus wanted you to speak, but he could see how spent you are. He kisses her cheek and settled into the bed next to her.

“Good girl.” He said letting his word be the last.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

Artwork

[anisdolly]

・ 。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀STRICTLY 18+.

WARNINGS: soft smut, subfem!reader x softdom!anakin, not proofread because im very lazy grrrr, breast worship (idk if its called like this i suck at explaining kinks !!!), body worship, p in v, little tease with his fingers heh.

・ 。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

yeah, fucking rough is good, but can you imagine anakin taking you as if you are the rarest jewel in the galaxy?

he would start as usual, sitting by the edge of his bed with you astride on his lap, while his hands memorized every contour of your body. his eyes, just as eager, would take in each soft whimper from your parted lips and all the shudders that only he could provide. because to him, you’d be the only woman in the galaxy, and you’d be only his. so, how could he not worship you? your form, your personality, the way you dress in the morning while he stares from his usual side of the bed. everything about you would be just so perfect to him, it makes his stomach flutter.

and the moment you lower to hump yourself against his obvious erection, anakin would stop you mid-movement by grasping your hips—ever so gently, of course—and smile lovingly. “slow, my love. i want to make love to you tonight, alright?”

just as his words ended, his strong arms would shift your position and lay you down on the sheets comfortably, and he would take a few seconds to admire the beauty beneath him as he hovers above you.

with a few kisses, he would caress your neck, then the upper swell of your right breast. his lips would travel lower, too, just to savor the beat of your pulse under the sensitive skin, while one hand would find its way to unhook your bra with the ease of familiarity.

in this world, there was nothing anakin would love more than tits—except you, of course. oh, so soft and beautiful. especially if they are yours. the moment your bra slips away, he would admire them with dilated pupils that made the blue of his gorgeous eyes almost disappear. it takes him all his might not to ravage them, suck and bite his way from one to the other.

so instead, he’d simply lick his lips before locking his gaze with yours again.

after making sure you are ready enough by simply sliding index and middle upon the dampness of your underwear, with the rare gentleness that he deserves only for you, anakin would push them aside and move his hand to unbuckle his trousers. they are everything he is patient enough to strip away from—and not even entirely, as he just pushes them just past his hips along his underwear.

and once free, his touch would be reverent as he positions himself at your entrance, pausing, giving you a chance to feel every inch of him pressing forward, slowly encased by the velvety warmth of your body. it was no less intense than when he took you roughly, however—even in the softness of lovemaking.

“is this how you imagined it, hm?” he’d whisper as his forehead lands against yours and the slightest of smiles quirks the corners of his mouth. “me worshipping—mmhm…—every inch of you…” his moans lay directly onto your lips, while gentle fingers cradle both your thighs to keep them anchored on each of his hips.

his thrusts would be ever as gentle, making sure you could hum in delight and have every inch of your silk walls given attention. the attention they deserve. you always held him so tight, squeezing almost the soul out of him. so anakin would feel like he has to take them to heart. not that it is forced or unwanted, anyway.

the sounds coming out from his throat would be extremely different, too. whimpers, whines, “i love you”s thrown here and there between one thrust and the other.

and coming to kisses, anakin would kiss you a lot. probably, the moans that he swallowed would be more than the ones lost in the air. sweet, loving, not the usual ones where the main objective was to exchange spit (mh, but those are insanely good too).

his eyes, glazed with love, would be fixated upon the circular movements of his hips that just match yours, making sure your clit is being taken care of by his lower abdomen, before trailing upwards to admire your eyes roll to the sockets as you both come undone with soft yells. and just to add, your hands, that had been caressing and tugging his hair for the entire time with love and appreciation, helped him so damn much at reaching the edge.

oh, anakin fell more and more in love with you each time. well, after all, wasn’t that what lovemaking was for?

[ladybyakuya]

| HEAVENLY HAZE + jiyan, geshu lin, scar, calcharo. 

+ cw. —fem!reader, headcanon format, slightly dc + yan content, explicit smut, s&d dynamics, s&m themes, blow!job, cunnilingus,overstim, edging, cum swallowing, mentioned aftercare. 

+ syn. — Where do they like to cum? What kind of ejaculator are they? messy? creampie lover? or strictly safe sex & cuddles for aftercare 

+ wc. — 1k

+ notes. — my wuwa debut post. guess who's my favorite ;D | redirect to blog navigation.

✧ JIYAN.

General Jiyan, as it may seem at first, could be tame in bed, but he slowly peels his skin off as he starts to get you comfortable around him with an increase in his gradual yearning for you. He likes to see you well satisfied before fucking the wits out of your body so he often prefers to make you cum first because you would be so wet, and so ready that he does not have to worry about being too rough with you. Sometimes, when he feels your gummy walls clenching around his cock makes it all the harder for him to hold back. It is always a game of push and pull to arouse each other. He takes so much time kissing you, getting you aroused, marking you as if he is solving an intricately delicate puzzle. The first time he had sex with you he ended up soiling his battle outfit with his cum since he provided too much time for you. But he has learned from his mistake. Now, he still gives you at the same time but he is barely clad while kissing your cunt, sucking your folds, and fingering your pussy till he hears your first orgasm. And, just when he feels he is getting there, his cock pulsing in his hands as he strokes his cock he stands up to give a last few strokes and cumming undone all over your tummy and boobs. He likes this: your needy lust-filled expression in those exhaustive eyes and yet so ready to be taken, to surrender to him.

✧ GESHU LIN.

Geshu is not taking any risk of losing you, nor would he give you a slight crack of a chance for it to widen and flee from his trap especially when he now knows how sweet the forbidden fruit tastes. He is territorial but it becomes more innate and intimate whenever it concerns you. He would mark you on places only you could see. Oh? You want to bear his mark on your neck where it would be easily visible? That’s so old school but sure! Whatever you want, you get except freedom. So, it should not come as a shock to you when he has you pinned down with your hands locked above your head. You are underneath him as he ruts into your sweet wet cunt, his thick cock tightly hugged by your soft gummy walls as he refuses to pull out. But you are still resisting him. Why is that? Has he not been clear enough to you with all his little marks all over your body? You are his, only his. The battle trophy that has not known the glory of victory but would surely know the glory of having a family. He releases the grip on your hands for a moment to make you realize how small, how meek you are against him. Even with his cock pulsing inside your pussy you manage to power sit up but he chuckles at your fight response. Geshu does not understand why you are doing all this. You would be safe with him. Yeah! He would give you anything you want. You just need to ask. He tackles you and holds your upper arms to keep thrusting for a final few strokes before he releases his seed into you claiming you as his and only his.

✧ CALCHARO 

Nothing beats the euphoric high that Calcharo experiences while blowing his load directly into your mouth. To be honest, he was not at par with the idea of getting his cock sucked by those same lips that talk about love to him. Your love for him, is something so pure, so demure, something he holds dear to himself which is why he refuses to taint it with himself. Calcharo hated the idea of you getting on your knees to serve him, to make him happy but at the same time he loved how you sucked him off. His love for you is in such high regard that he refuses to try any position that will let you be on a lower level than him but at the same time when you sucked him off for the first time, he had blown his load into your mouth and he felt good while doing it however unsightly it may seem after he tainted your divine lips with his cum.  But this position where you lay on the bed with your head hanging a little bit at the edge of the bed and he fucks your mouth is insanely euphoric that it makes his tacet mark glow whenever he cums. Plus, that view: his gaze like stuck in a drunken maze along with his shallow thrusts into your mouth followed by low grunts does nothing but turn you on too. By the time, he is about to cum, you have already started to touch yourself despite his repetitive warning because he does not know how much it turns you on to see the proof of this euphoria, that belongs to only you and him, glowing despite his denial to fuck you properly.

✧ SCAR.

It feels almost unholy how addicted Scar is by the way you boob-fuck his cock. Also, the little licks you do with your tongue and mouth while sliding your boobs up and down his shaft— yeah that; is his favorite part when you decide to go down on him. Of course, he is free to tell you, even has ways to coax you into getting his dick tit-fucked but is better when you do it out of your own free will, without any sort of stimulus from him be it sexual or just verbal. It is a rare occasion, but he is a man of patience. He can wait till you get fully ripe, till you get suffocated with doing these little sexual acts of sorts. For now, he can cooperate; for now, he can allow how you throw your tantrums when he insists on putting his cock in you, raw and without any rubber. The thought alone makes him hard but he is powerless against it as you say ‘no’ while pouting. So, for now, he can only wait and let you have it in your way. Those soft dainty palms cupping your own boobs just to get him off send him under the influence of absolute thrill because he often thinks how you would crave some more of this intimacy at some point and then under the influence of it, you are going to chase that feeling. And Scar is sure that when you would be chasing that feeling, you will think of him while doing it, and you will cradle and hold your boobs like you are doing now which is why he can not help but cum without giving you any sort of heads-up, coating your face and chest with his fluid but it seems that you are slowly starting to learn when he is about to cum; maybe you are ripe after all.

[zenfulslumber]

Ripple Effect

─── Woosan ───

「Wordcount: 5,922」 ─ 「NSFW - MDNI」

「San had been excited to try the milk bath photography session Wooyoung told him about. He never minded being Wooyoung’s test model. Until Wooyoung showed up in a skirt.」

「Content:」

─ Top San, bottom Wooyoung

─ Sudden erection, handjobs, anal sex, mild pet names, riding.

— Masterlist | Tip Jar | Commission Me —

San inhaled deeply as he sat in the shallow pool, the warm water lapping at his chest. The surface was cloudy, opaque with the white mixture they’d used to create the "milk bath" effect. His soaked clothes clung uncomfortably to his skin, heavy with water, but it was Wooyoung’s presence that weighed on him more than anything. The rhythmic click of the camera had been his only companion for the past few minutes, but the room was thick with an unspoken tension.

The concept was simple enough — a creative, sensual photoshoot with the aesthetic so many seemed to like these days, Wooyoung especially. And who was he to say no to his darling Wooyoung when he asked if San would help him experiment with his photography? It was a harmless concept after all, or so San had thought. Until Wooyoung showed up in that outfit.

The moment Wooyoung entered the studio, San’s focus had started to drift. Wooyoung wore a long, flowing skirt, its fabric loose and airy, brushing just above his knees as he moved gracefully around the edge of the pool. He also had his long, dark hair down, framing his beautiful face in soft waves, accenting his sharp jawline in a way that made San’s breath catch every time he glanced over. It was just so... effortless, and yet it did things to San’s insides that were anything but simple.

"Turn your head a little," Wooyoung instructed from behind the lens, his voice soft, barely carrying over the gentle rippling of the water. San obeyed automatically as he always did with Wooyoung, his neck stiff as he tried to avoid meeting Wooyoung’s eyes directly. He could feel those dark, gorgeous eyes on him, studying him — no, admiring him.

Every shutter click sent a jolt through him, making his skin prickle. It should have felt normal. After all, they’d done photoshoots together with San being his test model countless times. But this... this felt different. The way Wooyoung lingered behind the camera, his gaze too intense, too focused on every detail of San’s body, made him hyper-aware of how vulnerable he felt.

His heart beat faster. His muscles tensed as he shifted slightly in the water, trying to keep his composure. Yet every time his eyes flickered up to Wooyoung, he caught himself staring — staring at the way that skirt brushed against his thighs when he moved, at the way his lips curved in concentration, at the slight smirk Wooyoung wore as if he knew exactly what San was thinking.

"Perfect, San," Wooyoung praised, looking through the camera as he snapped another picture. "You’re looking great."

San swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten. He knew he was supposed to feel flattered, but every word out of Wooyoung’s mouth sounded... suggestive. His mind was playing tricks on him, surely. They were friends, best friends. There had always been flirtations, harmless teasing between them. But lately, it had started to feel like something else — something deep down San knew he always wanted.

The water swirled as San shifted again, uncomfortable in more ways than one. The wet fabric of his pants clung to his thighs, and the growing tightness below his waist wasn’t lost on him. He cursed inwardly, his pulse quickening as the pressure built. The warmth and colour of the water only made things worse, amplifying sensations he’d been desperately trying to suppress.

Wooyoung lowered the camera, tilting his head slightly as he observed San, his gaze sweeping over him in a way that felt far more intimate than professional. "You okay?" Wooyoung asked, voice low and teasing.

This fucker knows. He always knows.

San’s cheeks flushed at the question. There was no way Wooyoung didn’t notice. How could he not ? San had never been good at hiding his emotions — let alone something as blatantly obvious as this. Wooyoung of all people knew when he was lying about being fine anyway.

He shifted uncomfortably again, the water barely covering the evidence of his arousal. He bit down on his lower lip, trying to think of an excuse. Anything that would deflect from what was happening.

"Y-Yeah, just... the water," San mumbled, his voice betraying him as it cracked slightly.

Wooyoung’s eyes flickered with amusement, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Just the water, huh?"

Bastard. San cursed under his breath, feeling heat rise from his neck to his ears. There was no hiding it. Wooyoung’s gaze had already wandered down, his smirk deepening as he looked back up at San, eyes full of something that made San’s stomach twist into knots. The way Wooyoung was looking at him — it wasn’t just teasing. There was something deeper, something hungrier.

In his delusional state, San could only hope this wasn’t a cruel joke by Wooyoung.

San swallowed again, his throat dry despite the humidity in the room. He could feel the water shifting around him, the warm liquid lapping against his skin as if mocking his predicament. It wasn’t just the water, and they both knew it.

Without a word, Wooyoung set the camera aside on a nearby stool, his movements slow and deliberate. San watched him, wide-eyed, as he stepped closer to the edge of the pool, the soft fabric of his skirt brushing against his legs as he moved. Every step seemed calculated, purposeful, and San’s heart pounded in his chest, knowing that whatever was about to happen, there was no stopping it.

Wooyoung crouched at the pool's edge, his long hair falling over his eyes as he leaned in closer to San, their faces now only inches apart. San’s breath hitched again, his hands clenched into fists beneath the water, trying to keep control. He could feel his pulse hammering in his ears, each beat echoing the tension between them.

"Sannie," Wooyoung purred softly, sending a shiver down San’s spine. "You don’t have to be embarrassed."

San’s eyes flickered up to meet Wooyoung’s, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. The look Wooyoung was giving him wasn’t one of mockery or teasing. It was far too dangerous to be a joke anymore — and it made San’s entire body tense with anticipation.

Before San could even think of a response, Wooyoung slid effortlessly into the pool, the water splashing lightly as his skirt fanned out around him. The warm liquid rippled around them, and San felt his entire body freeze as Wooyoung’s weight settled on his lap.

San’s breath caught in his throat, his pulse thundering as Wooyoung lowered himself right onto San’s painfully apparent erection. The water sloshed softly around them, the warmth only intensifying the sensation of Wooyoung’s weight pressed against him. For a long, agonising second, neither of them moved. San didn’t dare breathe, his mind reeling with the shock of what was happening. He wasn’t sure how they’d gotten here, but now, with Wooyoung in his lap, the boundary between them had been crossed and there was no going back.

The wet fabric of Wooyoung’s skirt floated lightly on the water’s surface, but where their bodies met, it clung tightly, plastered to his skin. San could feel every shift, every subtle movement of Wooyoung’s hips as he adjusted his position. The pressure in San’s pants grew unbearable, and he struggled to maintain some semblance of control, but the heat in his core had already taken over.

Wooyoung’s hands slid up San’s chest slowly, his fingers tracing the damp fabric of his shirt, and San sucked in a sharp breath. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at Wooyoung’s face — the way his lips curled ever so slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes that told San this had been intentional all along.

“Wooyoung,” San whispered, his voice hoarse, his hands hovering in the water, unsure of where to place them. He could barely form a coherent thought, his mind buzzing with a mixture of panic and desire. “What are you...”

Wooyoung leaned in closer, cutting off his words. “What am I doing?” he repeated, his lips ghosting over the shell of San’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Isn’t it obvious?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice, low and sultry, and it made San’s entire body tense.

“But your skirt-” San halfheartedly protested, quickly hushed by the other.

“It’s just water, it’ll dry.” 

San swallowed hard, his hands finally landing on Wooyoung’s hips, fingers digging into the wet fabric of his skirt. He could feel the softness of Wooyoung’s skin beneath the thin layer of cloth, the warmth radiating between them. His mind screamed at him to stop, to regain control of the situation before it spiralled any further out of his hands, but his body had already made the decision for him.

Wooyoung’s hands moved higher, sliding up to San’s shoulders before tangling in the wet strands of his hair. San’s breath stuttered as Wooyoung’s hips shifted again, just enough to send a jolt of pleasure shooting through him. He couldn’t help the low groan that escaped his lips, his grip on Wooyoung tightening.

“God, San, relax,” Wooyoung whispered, trying to keep his giggles at bay. “You’re so tense.”

San let out a shaky laugh, his fingers tightening against Wooyoung’s hips. “It’s not that easy,” he muttered, his voice thick with the effort of keeping himself together. His eyes darted to Wooyoung’s lips, hovering just inches away, teasingly close. The tension between them was unbearable, a live wire waiting to snap.

He must be dreaming.

Wooyoung’s lips curved into a smirk, and he leaned in even closer, his breath hot against San’s cheek, then his ear. “Why not?” he murmured. “We’ve both been waiting for this, haven’t we?”

San’s heart skipped a beat. He wanted to deny it, to laugh it off as some kind of misunderstanding, but Wooyoung yet again did what only Woooyung could do — read his deepest thoughts as if he was an open book. We’ve both been waiting for this. The truth of it settled deep in his chest, and for the first time, San let himself process. Wooyoung wanted it too. It should’ve been obvious; the lingering glances, the playful banter, the way Wooyoung always seemed to get so close, to test the limits of their friendship — it had all been leading to this. San just hadn’t realised it was mutual.

Wooyoung shifted again, his hips rolling slowly against San’s, and his breath hitched as a wave of heat washed over him. He couldn’t stop the way his body responded, couldn’t stop the way his fingers tightened on Wooyoung’s waist, pulling him closer. Needing more.

“Wooyoung,” San whispered again, his voice trembling. He wasn’t sure if it was a plea or a warning, but it didn’t matter. Wooyoung’s lips brushed against his jaw, a featherlight touch that sent another shiver down his spine.

“I want you, San.” Wooyoung whispered, his voice soft but firm, his hands sliding down to rest on San’s chest again. “You don’t have to hold back.”

That was all San needed. In one fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, capturing Wooyoung’s lips in a kiss that was messy, desperate, and full of everything they’d been holding back. The taste of Wooyoung’s lips was intoxicating, soft and slightly sweet, and San groaned into the kiss, his hands pulling Wooyoung impossibly closer as if this would be the last chance they had for this.

Wooyoung responded immediately, his lips parting, letting San deepen the kiss. Their breaths shared the air, hot and heavy, and the water around them splashed lightly as their movements became more frantic, more impatient. San’s heart pounded in his chest, drowning out everything else as the only feeling left was of Wooyoung’s body pressed against his, the warmth of his skin, the softness of his lips.

Wooyoung’s hands slid down to San’s waist, fingers gripping tightly as he rocked his hips forward again, sending another jolt of pleasure through San’s body. San gasped into the kiss, his grip tightening on Wooyoung’s hips, holding him in place as their bodies moved together in perfect sync. It was overwhelming — the heat, the pressure, the intensity of it all — and San’s mind went blank as he gave in completely, letting his body take over.

Their kisses grew more frantic, more desperate, as if they were trying to make up for all the time they’d wasted dancing around each other. San’s hands roamed over Wooyoung’s body, fingers tracing the shape of his ass through the wet fabric, and Wooyoung let out a low, breathless moan that sent a surge of heat straight to San’s core.

“God, Wooyoung,” San breathed against his lips, his voice filled with the overwhelming desire. He wasn’t sure if he was begging for more or trying to catch his breath, but Wooyoung’s lips curved into a smile against his mouth, and San knew he’d won.

“You like this, don’t you?” Wooyoung whispered, his voice teasing as his hands slid down to San’s thighs, gripping them tightly as he rocked forward again. “You like me like this, in a pretty skirt. Just for you.”

San could only respond with a deep, “yes. Fuck, yes I do, Young-ah.” He couldn’t form any other coherent thoughts as his body shuddered beneath Wooyoung’s touch. He was too far gone, lost in the heat of the moment, in the feel of Wooyoung’s body pressed against his, in the electric connection between them. It wasn’t enough, though.

Wooyoung’s lips trailed down San’s neck, leaving a burning trail in their wake, and San tilted his head back, giving him more access. His mind was a haze, his body on fire as Wooyoung’s teeth grazed his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

“Wooyoung,” San groaned again, his hands tangling in Wooyoung’s hair as he pulled him closer, needing more, needing everything.

His pulse raced, each beat pounding in his ears as Wooyoung’s mouth moved down his neck, teasing, taunting with featherlight kisses and the occasional nip of teeth. The heat between them was unbearable now, burning through San’s self-control like paper to a flame. His hands threaded through Wooyoung’s wet hair, tugging gently, desperate to bring his lips back where he needed them most — closer.

“ San ,” Wooyoung breathed against his skin, lips grazing the curve of his throat before trailing lower. The sensation was maddening. Each brush of his lips left San trembling, gasping softly at the way Wooyoung’s breath felt against his already over-sensitive skin.

The water rippled as Wooyoung shifted in his lap, adjusting his position, his skirt spreading out like a cloud on the milky surface. The fabric clung to them both, making the sensation of every movement amplified. San was hyper-aware of the way Wooyoung’s thighs were pressing against his own, of the way his hips moved just enough to keep the tension between them on the edge of breaking.

“Do you want me to stop?” Wooyoung whispered, lips hovering just above San’s collarbone.

San swallowed hard, barely able to focus through the haze clouding his mind.”No,” he shook his head, his hands tightening in Wooyoung’s hair. “Just let me taste you again,” he pulled him closer, dragging his lips back up to meet his own.

The kiss was fierce, full of raw need that neither of them could contain any longer. San’s lips moved hungrily against Wooyoung’s, tasting the faint sweetness of his lip balm mixed with the intoxicating heat of his mouth. His hands slid down Wooyoung’s back once more, tracing the wet fabric clinging to his skin, feeling the heat of his body through the thin material.

Wooyoung moaned softly into the kiss, the sound sending a fresh wave of heat through San’s entire body. His hips bucked involuntarily beneath Wooyoung, a desperate need for more sparking in his veins, and Wooyoung responded in kind, rolling his hips forward again, creating the perfect friction that left San gasping.

“God,” San groaned, his voice low and strained as he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Wooyoung’s. His breath came in short, ragged bursts, his entire body on fire with a need that burned through his very marrow. “This... this is insane. You’re insane.”

Wooyoung laughed softly, his breath warm against San’s lips. “Maybe,” he said, his voice teasing, playful as ever. But there was something darker beneath it now, something that matched the intensity between them. “But you’re not stopping me.”

San couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him, even though he was too far gone to think clearly. He wasn’t stopping Wooyoung — and he didn’t want to. He wanted more. He wanted everything. Needed it.

“I’m not,” San admitted breathlessly, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands returned to rest on Wooyoung’s waist, fingers gripping the wet fabric of his skirt as he held him in place. He couldn’t hide the need in his voice, couldn’t pretend that this wasn’t exactly what he wanted. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Wooyoung’s eyes darkened, his lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. “Good,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss him again, this time softer, but no less intense. “Because I wasn’t planning on stopping.”

The kiss deepened again, slower this time, more deliberate, but just as consuming. San lost himself in the feel of Wooyoung’s lips, in the way they moved together, their bodies fitting perfectly as if they were meant to be this close, this intimate.

He was always meant to be mine.

The world around them dissolved into nothing but heat and touch and the sound of their breaths mingling in the humid air. Wooyoung’s hands slid down San’s chest, fingers tracing the soaked fabric of his shirt before tugging at it, slowly peeling it away from his skin. San shuddered as the cool air hit his bare chest, but the warmth of Wooyoung’s hands followed immediately, pressing against his skin, grounding him in the moment.

“San,” Wooyoung whispered against his lips, his hands roaming freely now, exploring the expanse of San’s torso. “You’re so tense. Let go.”

San’s breath hitched, his grip tightening on Wooyoung’s waist as his body responded to every touch, every word. He wanted to let go, but the intensity of it all was overwhelming. His mind spun, unable to catch up with the raw desire coursing through him.

Wooyoung’s fingers danced down his chest, skimming over his stomach before dipping lower, and San’s entire body jerked in response, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat. The sensation was electric, setting his nerves on fire, and his hips lifted instinctively, pressing into Wooyoung’s touch.

Wooyoung chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the effect he had on San. “There we go,” he murmured, his lips brushing against San’s ear, sending another shiver down his spine. “Just like that.”

San’s mind went blank, all rational thought was thrown out the window as Wooyoung’s touch consumed him, as their bodies moved together, the water splashing lightly around them, forgotten. The tension between them had broken, but what replaced it was something even more powerful — an overwhelming need that neither of them could ever satiate again.

San’s breath came in ragged gasps, taking his turn to press his lips to Wooyoung’s neck, pulling him closer as their hips ground together, creating a delicious friction that made his entire body tremble. He could hear Wooyoung’s breath hitching, the soft sounds of pleasure escaping his lips sending San spiralling further into the haze of want that consumed him.

“Wooyoung,” San groaned, his voice strained, his fingers digging into Wooyoung’s hips. His lips, his hands, his body — everything about him was driving San to the edge.

Please,” Wooyoung begged in a whisper, a little pout forming on his lips. San was doomed, he could never say no to pouty Wooyoung. “I need you.”

And with that, San finally gave in, letting the last of his restraint crumble as he pulled Wooyoung closer, their bodies moving together in a slow, heated rhythm that left them both breathless, gasping for more.

Wooyoung’s hands roamed freely over his body, fingertips grazing his skin, sending waves of electricity through San’s veins. His lips hovered just inches away from San’s, teasing, never quite letting their mouths meet fully again, and it drove San wild with need.

San’s grip tightened on Wooyoung’s waist as his head fell back. The heat coursing through his veins, the pressure low in his belly — it was too much, and yet, he couldn’t get enough.

Wooyoung’s kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, as if he was savouring every second, and San felt himself sinking further into the haze of desire, his body responding to Wooyoung’s every move.

When Wooyoung shifted in his lap, pressing down just enough to send another wave of pleasure through San’s body, San let out a low, shaky groan. The friction between them was unbearable, their clothes soaked and sticking to their skin, amplifying the sensation of every movement.

He could barely think anymore. San groaned, his hands tightening on Wooyoung’s waist as he pulled him further down, their bodies crashing together once again. All he wanted was Wooyoung — more of him, closer, deeper.

Wooyoung’s hands moved lower, fingers trailing over San’s torso, leaving a burning trail in their wake. San’s breath hitched as Wooyoung’s hands finally dipped below the water, tracing the waistband of his soaked pants, teasingly slow.

San’s eyes fluttered shut as he let out a ragged breath, his mind spinning with the sensation. “Fuck... please,” he gasped, his voice hoarse, barely able to form the words.

Wooyoung’s lips curved into a beautifully mischievous grin, his hands stilling just at the edge of where San needed him most. “Please what?” he feigned innocence, his voice full of teasing amusement. He leaned in closer, lips brushing against San’s ear, sending a fresh wave of shivers down his spine.

San groaned, his hands sliding down to grip Wooyoung’s thighs, his body trembling with anticipation. “Stop teasing,” he growled, his voice low and strained. There was no bite to it, they both knew San would take whatever teasing Wooyoung wanted to provide. He’d still pout about it, though.

Wooyoung chuckled softly, his breath warm against San’s neck as he pressed a soft kiss just below his ear. “I love hearing you beg,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing San’s skin. “But since you asked so nicely...”

Before San could respond, Wooyoung’s hand dipped lower, and the sudden rush of sensation that followed as Wooyoung finally wrapped his hand around San’s cock made his entire body jerk in response. A low, broken moan escaped his lips as his head fell back, his mind blanking out completely. Every touch, every movement sent shockwaves through him, pushing him further and further past the point of no return.

Wooyoung’s breath was hot against his neck, his lips grazing San’s skin with each ragged breath, and the feel of Wooyoung’s body against his was overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once. San’s hand slipped beneath the skirt and roamed over Wooyoung’s thighs, desperate for more, pulling him closer as their bodies moved together in a slow, torturous rhythm that left San trembling.

“God, Wooyoung,” San gasped, his voice rough and breathless. All he could think about was the way Wooyoung’s body felt against his, the way his touch sent sparks of pleasure through his entire being. And how good he’d feel.

Wooyoung’s lips trailed down San’s neck, kissing a path to his collarbone, and San’s breath stuttered, his body arching into Wooyoung’s touch as another wave of pleasure rolled through him.

Each stroke caused a pulse of static to fill San’s brain. He’d spent so many nights thinking about this moment, imagining his own hand as Wooyoung’s and yet it could never compare to how it felt now. 

“I’ve got you,” Wooyoung murmured, his voice soft but full of intent, his hands moving with a deliberate slowness that drove San to the brink. “Just let go.”

And San did.

The world blurred around him, nothing but heat and sensation and the feel of Wooyoung’s body against his. He couldn’t hold back any longer, the tension in his body snapping as a rush of pleasure flooded through him, leaving him breathless, trembling, and completely undone. Yet not quite satisfied.

San gasped for air, his fingers digging into Wooyoung’s skin as the aftershocks of the moment rippled through him. Wooyoung’s body was still pressed tightly against his, his breath warm against San’s neck, and for a long moment, neither of them moved, lost in the aftermath of what had just happened.

Slowly, the world came back into focus, the sound of the water gently lapping around them, the warmth of Wooyoung’s breath still fanning across San’s skin. San’s heart pounded in his chest, the weight of what had just happened settling in, but all he could feel was the warmth of Wooyoung’s body, the lingering touch of his lips.

“Are you okay?” Wooyoung whispered softly, his voice now gentle, a stark contrast to the intensity from moments before.

San let out a breathless laugh, his body still buzzing with the aftermath. “Yeah,” he whispered, his voice shaky, but there was a softness to it now. “Yeah, I’m more than okay.”

Wooyoung smiled against his skin, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the corner of San’s mouth. “Good,” he whispered, his hands still resting on San’s chest, as if he didn’t want to let go just yet. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

San laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah? What else have you got?” Despite his uneven breaths he still found it in himself to return the teasing. Even having just come down he could feel the rush of blood in his core again.

Fuck.

Wooyoung barely let him catch his breath before he reached for San’s hand this time, guiding it back up his skirt. “You didn’t find the surprise yet,” he whined with a pout. The surprise?

Excited by whatever the supposed surprise was, San momentarily pushed the thoughts of how painfully hard he still was to let his hands roam beneath Wooyoung’s soaked skirt again. This time, he ventured further — finding the surprise. Wooyoung had gone commando. 

San laughed in surprise, a soft groan rising in his throat as he finally felt just how hard the other was too.

Wooyoung grabbed his wrist to stop him momentarily. “No more foreplay, I’ll lose my mind if you don’t fuck me within the next thirty seconds.”

San’s eyes widened a little but he wasn’t about to argue with his precious Wooyoung — Wooyoung on his lap in a skirt asking to ride him, no less. Not a chance.

He couldn’t comply faster, holding himself steady as Wooyoung reached behind himself. A part of him wondered if maybe he should’ve been more insistent on prepping Wooyoung properly but he was in no state to try and be rational. And his thoughts were immediately halted when the other removed his hand again to reveal a cute little plug he’d apparently been hiding away.

San’s breath caught in his throat again, unable to believe he could’ve gone the entire day without knowing about this. “You are insane, Jung Wooyoung.”

That earned him the cutest giggle that sent another flutter into his core. “I know,” Wooyoung wrapped his arm around the back of San’s neck for balance as he positioned himself. “I blame you.”

“Me?” San whined in another pathetic protest of confusion but there was no time to get into a petty argument. Not when he could feel himself slipping into Wooyoung as if he was made for him.

Despite the heat, Wooyoung took his time. San kept his grip on the other’s waist firm to help him, fighting every urge to buck his hips up with all of his might. He was sure he’d drowned in the opaque white water and had gone to heaven because this couldn’t be real.

He was fucking Wooyoung.

“Ah~ San,” Wooyoung whined as he finally dropped all of his weight to rest on San’s lap again. San could barely process his thoughts but instinctively he placed a hand on Wooyoung’s thigh and another on his back — it was his turn to take a little control.

“Wooyoung, you feel so good,” he groaned and began peppering soft kisses to the pretty boy’s jawline. He’d do his best not to mess up his makeup but he’d made no promises. “That’s it, baby. Take it easy, hm?”

Wooyoung only responded with soft whines and breathy giggles with each movement he tried to make. He gave an experimental roll of his hips to which both of them collapsed into each other further.

“You ready?” San nipped at the soft skin of Wooyoung’s ear before dropping his voice. “Gonna fuck you just like you wanted, just like you’ve been waiting for.”

Wooyoung nodded in desperation, rocking his hips as if to hurry San up. “Mhm,” he moaned — gripping onto the fabric of San’s shirt. 

San was not convinced he’d last very long at all considering he’d already cum once, but that wasn’t going to stop him coaxing it out of Wooyoung also. He set a slow pace to begin with, using Wooyoung’s hips as leverage to help move him. The whines and whimpers that began spilling out from the other were deliciously intoxicating — it almost saddened him to muffle them with his own lips but they couldn’t risk being too loud.

The water sloshed and rippled around them with every impact of their skin, Wooyoung’s skirt sticking to his thighs. As much as San adored the pretty piece, it was in the way and this position wasn’t working. He shoved the front up towards Wooyoung’s stomach, bunching it a little awkwardly.

Displeased, he took one of Wooyoung’s hands and placed it over his stomach to hold the skirt in place, growling a small “hold” command before he adjusted his position to continue. San pulled back just enough to watch the way the strands of hair fell over Wooyoung’s beautiful face as pleasure overtook his expression.

The sight of Wooyoung’s own cock now bouncing between his own stomach and San’s sent San into a near feral mindset. If he had a spare hand he might’ve considered jerking him in return — but getting his sweet Wooyoung to cum untouched would be so much better.

Leaning back on his hand San fucked up into Wooyoung with a heat he never thought a human being could experience. It was worse than a fever, more intense than an adrenaline rush and crackled throughout him like a freshly lit fire — a desire.

Wooyoung’s sweet sounds grew faster, climbing in pitch which San took to mean he was growing closer and closer to his release. As if he had any control at this point, the sounds alone pushed him further into his insanity that was the pleasure of Wooyoung. Everything about him — lips, hair, hands, cock, it all sent San spinning into a spiral that screamed only one thing. More.

The burn in his thighs didn’t deter San from continuing his pace. Wooyoung was barely able to keep himself upright judging by the way his body swayed and his hand searched for somewhere to steady himself.

“Sannie~” Wooyoung purred, gasping softly as he tried his best to rock his own hips. He’d had the upper hand to begin with but now he was nothing but a whining mess on top of San. And San hadn’t felt a triumph like this in a long time.

He couldn’t hide his smirk even through his own groans and grunts. “That’s it, baby, such a good boy for me. You feel so good… gonna make me cum again.”

Wooyoung let out a gasp in response, falling closer to San like his life depended on taking in the very air San breathed.

San responded immediately — trusting in Wooyoung’s balance to keep himself up — and grabbed a handful of Wooyoung’s long hair at the back of his head to pull him into a sloppy kiss. He didn’t care that their teeth crashed together or that they missed their targets for a good few seconds, he was too close to his euphoria to care. 

The only thing he could tell himself was he didn’t want to finish first — it was Wooyoung’s turn. He wanted to see his pretty boy cum, it’s the least he deserved for all the teasing he’d been through.

The way Wooyoung tightened around him gave him the signal to perfect the angle and focus on just the right place to feel the other melt on top of him. There was a long string of precum dripping from Wooyoung’s tip down onto San’s abs and San couldn’t hide the pleased purr in his throat at the sight. God, how much better it was in person than in his dreams.

“That’s it, pretty boy, you cum for me. Cum on my cock, please. ” Reminded of Wooyoung’s earlier words about his begging, San knew he’d hit the right spot with both his body and his words when Wooyoung let out the most beautiful sound San was sure he’d ever had the pleasure of hearing.

Wooyoung’s hand flew to his own cock to help himself through his climax, no longer caring about making a mess of San’s shirt — San didn’t care either, messy clothes were the least of his worries right now.

“Oh- oh my god, San ,” Wooyoung’s head flew back to expose his perfect neck and San took the opportunity to strike.

He bit down as his own climax washed over him — not enough to leave any long term marks, thankfully. The feeling of Wooyoung’s gasp and moans beneath his teeth were enough to pull another guttural groan from San. 

Holy fuck. 

He’d just had sex with Wooyoung.

As the movements ceased and the waters calmed, the only sounds throughout the room were the exasperated breaths and soft moans from the still sensitive bodies. They hadn’t looked at each other yet, San didn’t know if he could face the consequences of what this meant — now that the haze of lust had worn off.

Would they regret this?

San pushed the thoughts away, running a hand gently through Wooyoung’s hair as they sat for another few moments. It wasn’t an awkward silence, it was comfortable — the same as it always was for them when they were together.

Finally, San dared to pull back to meet Wooyoung’s gaze. The shared smiles came immediately as both fell into laughter, disbelief at what they’d both just done.

“Did we really just…?” San shook his head, still laughing.

Wooyoung brushed his fingertips along San’s neck once more, biting his lip through his grin. “We did. I can’t believe it took you so long!”

“Wh- took me so long?!” San’s face fell in shock and Wooyoung’s laughter kicked off another round of giggles before the two decided they should probably clean up.

The studio was quiet, everyone else had gone home by now. San waved his keys as they packed up and changed out of their wet clothes. “You hungry? Let’s go eat.”

“Couldn’t have asked me that before you decided to fuck me?” Wooyoung retorted, giggling again as San shushed him — as if anyone would hear them.

“Alright then, next time I’ll take you out to eat before I fuck you. How does that sound?”

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. “Next time?”

San stepped closer, a possessive smile on his face as he cupped the other’s chin with his hand, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

“You’re mine now, Jung Wooyoung. You know what you’ve done.” 

[earthstellar]

what are some other nice moments from Rescue bots?

This show is loaded with them!!! :)

Here we go, some nice moments in Rescue Bots!!

I'm going to write this with the assumption that some people reading this may not have ever seen Rescue Bots or might only be somewhat familiar, as I realise the target audience skews much younger than most Transformers media does, so I'm not 100% sure how popular it was outside of that demographic in total.

Off the top of my head:

-There is an in-universe VR game called Element Quest that has a couple really good episodes, the design is cute and there are tons of meme references. Blades, at one point, goes "I used to like video games. Then I took an arrow to the knee." LOL

-I think it's cool how they actually do tie in their continuity with TFP's continuity. For example, "What Rises Above" (RB) canonically comes before "Nemesis Prime" (TFP), and this is directly referenced in the dialogue in TFP when Optimus says that he is late arriving to the base as he was exploring an underground energon deposit-- This is the deposit he explores with the Rescue Bots.

-THERE IS A MUSICAL EPISODE. IT IS EXTREMELY GOOD

-Woodrow Burns, the Chief's brother, is kind of an idiot asshole, although he's not actively malicious. But he is great with the kids and for whatever reason the only thing I can ever remember about this character is when he goes up to Cody after it's been a long time since he saw him last and says "You've grown a whole foot since the last time I saw you-- Now you'll need three socks!" IDK I just think that's a real cute dad joke thing to say to a little kid lol :')

-There is an episode where they explore the local folklore of Griffin Rock, and TL;DR the local lore is that their island is where literal griffins used to nest seasonally. So throughout the episode, there's this kind of vibe of "OK are these electrical magnetic pulses or whatever like a science problem or a magic problem" and it's actually a very cute and fun vibe, especially since Cody is talking about the lore in the first place as part of his work towards a Scouts badge and Blades is very cute in this episode, the bots are all like "okay magic isn't real but uhhh what if magic's real?" for a minute and it's great :')

-Doc Greene/Green creates a ton of fun science devices throughout the show, but the names of some are just so doofy and fun. I love the "Torna-Don't", which is a thing designed to dispel tornados. Of course. lmao

-All the weird small town local events are also very silly and cute, and weirdly realistic for those of us who are familiar with this kind of local event thing, lmao. One of my favourite concepts is one of what seems to be several crawdad-related festivals, in which there is apparently a televised crawdad race. It's a bunch of shrimps put on a tiny racetrack, like Olympic runners. LOL

-At one point, Blurr shows up, and when the Rescue Bots are trying to acclimate him to working with humans, Chase is like "Humans seem to have two genders, which are defined by how many cooties they have." This implies that as far as the Rescue Bots are aware, 1) cooties are real and 2) human gender is defined solely by how many cooties a person has, and not by anything else, thus leaving their understanding of human gender fairly open (and it is also clear they have solely learned about gender from young kids in a small town which is likely why they state there are two genders but then make it clear that gender is a cooties thing and not an inherently physical thing, which makes sense in context and is kind of great because it gives more leeway for gender diversity than I expected) and I love this a lot. What is human gender? Cooties. That's all. So someone with a particularly high number of cooties could be another gender altogether, because why not?

-There is a body swap episode, which treats us to Blades in Dani's body trying on dresses in her room. He picks an orange and white one, which matches his paint job. I also love this a lot.

-Heatwave is gruff as hell especially at the start of the series and constantly starts shit or perpetuates shit with Kade, which is super funny. Just this centuries old Cybertronian fucking with this doofus boy who keeps leaving donuts in his cab. God dammit Kade, lmao.

-There is an episode where Cody is aged up via Science Device, and we get to see an older Cody, who more closely resembles his father than his older brother does. It's cute that he'll look like his dad when he's older. :')

During this episode, he assists in a rescue, and the girl his brother has a crush on tries to hit on him, but he clearly doesn't get what's happening and thinks it's icky because of course he does, he's a kid. I just think this scene is handled well and it's cute that his reaction to being hit on is still "ewww girls" but his brother is still absolutely pissed off about it anyway LMAO like jesus Kade, relax

-Kade's mostly an asshole but he's shown to be a really good rescuer who genuinely cares about people, and he has moments where he really comes through for his family and realises on his own that he should shut up and back down on his bullshit, thus making him a better developed and more realistic asshole brother character than 99% of asshole brother characters in most shows. I think this is pretty solid because it does lead to effective character development here and there, and it makes his positive moments with his family and the bots that much nicer. :)

-Cody is such a good kid. He is often willing to give people or ideas a chance when nobody else will, and even though he's too young to actively participate in most missions, he stays involved by helping at their dispatch centre. He's a smart little dude, who has a lot of heart and a ton of potential. One of the few child characters in anything that I actually like, because I think they write him extremely well: He is young, but he is not stupid. He is not treated like an accessory or like the property of his family, he's his own person with a distinct personality within his family, with a reasonable amount of autonomy. And he's a person who is still learning and has valuable contributions while also needing guidance or support at times. 10/10

-Dani gradually gets better at helping Blades deal with his flight anxiety (and sticks up for him when the others might mock him a little for it), and this is not only inherently very nice and cute, but it also makes a lot of sense as she is a first responder/medic and we see her offer the same reassurances towards the people she helps to rescue.

-The writing for the Burns Family in general is some of the best family group character writing in anything tbh, they handle the family dynamic so well in this show, and it's extra cute as the Rescue Bots all learn a lot from observing how the family takes care of one another and the townspeople they rescue. :')

-Blades has anxiety. I also have anxiety, so I am biased and clearly love this dude, lmao. He's so fucking relatable and even though sometimes the others rip on him, it is clear that they're also very proud of him for trying his best to deal with a situation which for him is particularly difficult (he was forced to take a flight capable alt-mode when this is something he is explicitly not comfortable with) and his team mates do support him, even though Heatwave is a douche sometimes (although it is clear this is usually due to stress or something else and that the actual problem isn't Blades). Over the course of the series, Blades does develop a little more confidence, and it's very cute and nice to see him puffing himself up a little more. :)

-The overall attitudes the bots have towards humans in this show is sweet. It's clear they don't really understand humanity or humans as a whole, but it also doesn't really matter because they are so specifically oriented to their local population on the island and their focus is a relatively small community of humans. They take their duties seriously and will protect this population, even if they don't really understand the people outright. They gradually start to respect the locals (and the Burns Family) more and more as they work with them, and get acclimated to Earth. They love their dumbass weird little humans :')

This leads to a lot of fun shenanigans with the bots not understanding things, or only understanding things as they have been explained by the children, which is hilarious.

-There is an episode where local thieves steal Chase, and inspired by Cody's school drama project, he decides to go undercover after watching a bunch of old detective movies. This includes him narrating things to himself, which he is called on when Dani enters the garage and asks him "Why are the lights off? Are you talking to yourself?" lmao

-Although it isn't explicitly canonical, it's easy to interpret both Chase and Blades as being neurodivergent. Both of them display various behaviours and traits which can potentially be understood in this way, and I'm just glad that there's a show for kids where two of the main characters, who are rescue workers, are shown to be competent and skilled at their jobs and accepted by the community for who they are while also being neurodivergent. <3 It's such a good vibe when the other characters support or defend these two in particular, especially when Chase or Blades might be confused or upset about something. Chief Burns is especially great working with Chase.

-Any episode where Optimus shows up in Rescue Bots usually has some gems of cuteness/silliness. The Elvis line still takes me out, LMAO. "You're bigger than Elvis!" "I have not met this Elvis, and I am unaware of his size." 10/10 writing, I fucking love Rescue Bots

-The bots constantly call out a bunch of details that are entirely appropriate for robots from space to notice and recognise as somewhat weird, whereas a lot of the human characters are so used to 1) being human and 2) living on this incredibly weird little technologically advanced island that nothing really phases them anymore. So we can actually identify more with the bots at time, despite the fact that they are also providing an outsider point of view, which is really clever! :)

-The theme song is a fucking banger. It's so good. I love this song so much. I wish we got a full version of it, but this is the best extended version of it that I've been able to find. Enjoy!!!

-There's a lot of fairly adult stuff in the show, more than I think people realise! The tone can never get too dark outright as it is intended for young kids as the primary demographic, but there's a lot of situations, conversations, etc. that are genuinely engaging and interesting from an adult perspective, which is a large part of what makes it a great watch for all ages.

Some situational examples include scenarios where children are imperilled in natural disasters, accidents, even kidnapping at one point.

Non-kid related situations include risks and threat to civilians from AI development and the dangers that uncontrolled or poorly thought out technology can cause or exacerbate, which is significant in context and also interesting to think about given our current relationship IRL with rapid tech development and concerns around how that technology is being made and applied, either in reality or in theory.

Some dialogue examples include scenes where the bots mention their grief over being unable to save Cybertron, a sense of guilt that they were in stasis for so long even though this was beyond their control, awareness that they may be the last Rescue Bots team in operation on Earth or anywhere else in the universe (a sense of loneliness and a responsibility as the last upholders of their specific creed), struggles with their sense of duty and concerns around their ability to fulfil their expectations for themselves and meet the expectations of others while rising to the demands of their unique situation, and so on.

--

this is already pretty long lmao, there's a ton of stuff I really like about Rescue Bots, but I hope this might encourage others to check out the show if you haven't before, it's well worth a watch! :)

[hornyforherbert]

Stay, if you want. (Justin Herbert) ✧

Prompt 25. Stay, if you want too

CW: Fluff

WC: 1498

"I really should be going," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I stole a glance at Justin, and my heart skipped a beat at his earnest gaze. Justin's brown eyes locked onto mine, and he took a step closer. "Or..." he started, his voice trailing off as he looked down at the ground for a moment.

"Or what?" I prodded, unable to hide the curiosity in my voice. Justin took a deep breath and looked back up at me. "Or you can stay if you want to," he said softly, his eyes searching mine for any sign of agreement. My pulse quickened, and I felt a warmth spreading through me. "Stay?" I repeated, the word feeling foreign on my tongue. "Yeah, stay," Justin confirmed, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "I mean, if you want to, of course. I just thought it might be nice to spend a little more time together."

I couldn't help but smile at his awkward charm. "I'd like that," I said, surprising myself with the sudden confidence in my voice. Justin's face broke into a relieved grin, and he motioned toward the couch.

"Great. Let's watch a movie, or we could order some food. Whatever you're in the mood for." "A movie sounds perfect," I replied, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with Justin.

As Justin sorted through his collection of DVDs, I admired the cozy decor of his living room. Soft throw pillows adorned the plush couch, and warm, earthy tones filled the space, creating an inviting atmosphere. "How about this one?" Justin asked, holding up a classic romcom. "It's a bit cheesy, but in a good way." I chuckled and nodded. "Cheesy is perfect, especially on a cozy evening like this."

We settled onto the couch, and Justin hit play on the remote. The opening credits rolled, and I nestled into the cushions, feeling relaxed and content in Justin's company. As the movie progressed, I found myself stealing glances at Justin. His focused gaze on the screen, the way he chuckled at the funny moments, and the soft furrow of his brow during the emotional scenes—it all made my heart flutter.

“I can grab some snacks if you'd like," Justin offered during a brief pause in the movie. "Or maybe some popcorn?" "Popcorn sounds great," I agreed, feeling a surge of fondness for Justin's considerate nature. Justin nodded and slipped off the couch, making his way to the kitchen. The sounds of cabinets opening and the hum of the microwave filled the air, adding a cozy rhythm to the evening. As he returned with a heaping bowl of popcorn, I grinned in appreciation.

“You're a mind reader," I teased, reaching for a handful of the warm, buttery snack. Justin chuckled and settled back onto the couch, our arms brushing against each other as we shared the popcorn. With the movie coming to a close, I felt a sense of reluctance at the thought of leaving. The comfortable silence between Justin and me seemed too perfect to disrupt.

"So, what did you think?" Justin asked, casting a sideways glance in my direction. "The movie was great," I replied, finding myself lost in Justin's gaze once more. Justin's lips curved into a gentle smile, and he shifted his position, facing me more directly. "I'm really glad you decided to stay," he said, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. I felt a jolt of nervous energy coursing through me, but beneath it all, there was an undeniable warmth in Justin's presence.

"Me too," I admitted, my voice quieter than before. Before I could process what was happening, Justin's hand reached out, gently brushing against mine. My breath caught in my throat at the unexpected contact, and I turned to meet his eyes. "Can I be honest?" Justin asked, his gaze unwavering. I nodded, feeling the anticipation building within me. "I've been wanting to do this all evening," Justin confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

In one swift movement, Justin closed the distance between us, pressing his lips against mine in a soft, tender kiss. My entire body hummed with a rush of emotions, and I found myself leaning into the embrace, savoring the moment. When we finally pulled away, Justin's eyes held a silent question, searching for any hint of discomfort or hesitation.

"Wow," was the only word that escaped my lips, but the smile on Justin's face told me everything I needed to know. "Wow, indeed," Justin echoed, his voice filled with warmth. "I've been wanting to do that since the moment you walked into my house." My heart swelled with a mix of joy and relief. "I'm so glad I stayed," I murmured.

The evening melted into night as we continued to talk, laughter and deep conversations intertwining in the air around us. With each passing moment, I found myself falling deeper for Justin, and the feeling in his eyes mirrored my own. It wasn't until the late hours that I realized how late it had become, and a yawn slipped past my lips, surprising me.

"I should get going," I said, forcing myself to stand despite the reluctance in my heart. Justin nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, it's getting late. Let me walk you out." We made our way to the front door, the night enveloping us in a gentle embrace. The quiet hum of the neighborhood surrounded us, adding to the intimate atmosphere.

As we reached the threshold, Justin turned to face me, his expression tender. "Thank you for staying," he said, his voice holding a hint of vulnerability. "Thank you for inviting me," I replied, a soft smile gracing my lips. Justin hesitated for a moment, as if contemplating his next move. "Would you... like to do this again sometime?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

My heart skipped a beat at the hope in his voice. "I'd love that," I admitted, feeling a spark of excitement at the thought of seeing Justin again.

A genuine smile blossomed on Justin's face, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. "Goodnight, y/n," he said softly, his gaze lingering on mine. "Goodnight, Justin," I whispered, feeling a warmth spreading through me at his lingering presence.

As I made my way home, the night felt alive with the memory of Justin's touch and the warmth of his gaze. Despite the late hour and the weariness tugging at my body, I felt a renewed sense of hope pulsing within me.

In the days that followed, Justin and I found ourselves drawn to each other like two magnets, unable to resist the pull of our connection. We shared laughter, deep conversations, and quiet moments that seemed to stretch into eternity.

However, as our bond deepened, I couldn't shake the sense of uncertainty lingering at the back of my mind. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice, the thrill of the fall mingling with the fear of the unknown.

One evening, as Justin and I sat across from each other in a café, the weight of the unspoken lingered between us, casting a shadow over the warmth of our shared laughter. "What's on your mind?" Justin asked, his eyes searching mine with a hint of concern.

I hesitated, feeling the weight of my thoughts pressing against my tongue. "I... I've been thinking," I started, my voice hesitant. Justin's expression softened, and he reached across the table, his hand finding mine. "You can tell me anything, y/n. I'm here for you." The warmth of his touch emboldened me, and I took a deep breath. "I'm just... afraid," I admitted, feeling the vulnerability unraveling within me. "Afraid of what?" Justin prodded gently, his gaze unwavering.

"Afraid of getting too close," I confessed, the words feeling like a weight lifted from my chest. "Afraid of getting hurt." Justin's eyes softened with understanding, and he squeezed my hand gently. "I understand," he said, his voice gentle. "But y/n, I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. I care about you, and I want to be here for you."

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can you please do Bruce Banner with 8&9 much love ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Watching

Bruce Banner x plus size reader

Bruce likes proving that even if you find others attractive, they will never own your cunt the way that he does

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, little bit of voyeurism, possessive!Bruce, Thor knows all 😏

WC: 492

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

Bruce knew you had a crush on Thor. I mean it was pretty obvious given how you would clam up around the god, especially when he was working out. Bruce trusted you, he knew you would never cheat, but it was still so much fun to tease you.

And the one-way mirror that overlooked the weights room in the Avenger’s compound was absolutely a godsend for the good doctor. 

The glass was freezing against the burning skin of your tits as you were pressed into it, your breath quickly causing condensation to form on the smooth surface. “B-Bruce.” You moaned, trying to reach back for your fiancé but he instead grabbed your wrist and pinned it to your lower back, his pace unwavering.

“Look at him while I fuck you.” He groaned, redirecting your lust-filled gaze back to the gym where Thor was working out. He was shirtless (as per usual), sweat dripping down his tanned skin like droplets of gold, leading your eyes to his rippling abs and dark snail trail that ended right above his tiny workout shorts. The bulge in the grey fabric was fucking magnificent and your cunt clenched down on the cock inside of you at the sight.

“Jesus, loosen up, you’re squeezing me so tight.” Bruce’s hips stuttered, suddenly incredibly close to cumming.

“T-too much.” You stuttered and attempted to pull away from his incredibly thick cock. Two calloused fingertips made contact with your clit, sending you further towards the edge. 

“Watch him, watch him and know that he will never be the one to make you cum like this.” With a brutal thrust straight to your g-spot and a particularly firm pinch of your clit, you came violently around him. “Shit!” Bruce followed soon after, burying himself to the hilt inside of you and coating your pulsing walls with his release.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you enjoyed the view as well my love.” You cooed as you caught your breath. Bruce chuckled and placed a kiss to your bare shoulder before he carefully pulled out of you, causing you to hiss.

“We’ll explore that some other time honey. But I do unfortunately have to get back to work.” You reached back and brought your lips to his in a sweet kiss, a stark contrast to your previous activities.

“Go on. I’ll see you for dinner tonight.” He smiled shyly and with one last kiss, he did up his pants and sneakily left the small observation room. You dressed quietly, cringing slightly at the feel of Bruce’s cooling seed seeping into your panties but you couldn’t complain much; you were the one that insisted on a mid-day quicky.

You took one last glance through the mirror only to catch Thor’s bright blue eyes staring directly at you. He winked and blew a kiss your way before he turned and sauntered towards the locker-room with a noticeable tent in his shorts.

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[karniss-bg3]

Thank you so much for fulfilling my request! It was so well written, I've already reread it a few times today lol. I imagine a followup writing request to that (if you wanted to) could be a lovely comfort time of Tav patching up Kar'niss in the morning after they both get some well deserved rest. Thanks again!

[Part 2 of this post.]

[Music]

The melodic chirping of birds filtered into Tav’s ears, morning breaking over the encampment. They could feel the pulse of a headache coming on after an uneasy night of rest. The events of the prior evening were still fresh in their mind playing over and over on a loop. Their eyes opened, staring at the ceiling of their tent, pondering what steps to take next. The first priority was to make sure Kar’niss was still doing well and after that play it by ear.

They rose from their bed roll and exited the tent, stumbling into the sunlight which assaulted their eyes making them burn. Nearby their companions had gathered around the camp fire to sort out breakfast, preparing for the long road ahead. Kar’niss was not among them. Tav frowned and wandered over to the edge of camp, spotting the boulder they’d left Kar’niss sleeping on the night before. His perch had been abandoned, streaks of dried blood peppered over the uneven surface. The blanket and pillow had also been left behind in a haphazard pile suggesting Kar’niss had moved sometime recently.

“Did anyone see where Kar’niss went?” Tav asked.

“Yes,” Laezel replied. “The spider-kin stirred just before dawn and retreated into the forest. I did not give chase, he did not seem to require aid.”

Tav rubbed the back of their neck, a slow exhale soon following. “Thank you. Give me a few moments, I want to check on him.”

Tav went to work. First, they retrieved a bucket and filled it to the brim with water from the nearby river. Then they collected medical supplies, a cloth, and their flute, placing them in their pack. Once the satchel was hoisted over their shoulder they lifted the bucket by the rope handle and wandered into the treeline after the drider.

They wouldn’t need to search long especially with the light of day keeping the area moderately lit. They came across a massive nest of webbing spanning across several trees, an intricate weave of thick silk lines that made a wall of white just ahead of them. Nearby Tav could see a deer carcass, it’s body drained of it’s fluids to the point it’s flesh wrinkled and caved in on itself. At least he’d been fed, Tav thought. They placed the bucket down and peered up into the branches in search of their quarry, squinting when rays of sun pierced their retinas from time to time. That was when they spotted it. A round dome of webbing stretched over heavy branches formed a cocoon-like dome with a single entrance near the tree itself. While Tav couldn’t see Kar’niss directly they did spy the very tip of his legs poking out of the doorway, suggesting he had nestled himself tightly into the space in an effort to hide and protect himself.

What concerned them were the noises they heard, quiet but audible. A low, thrumming click generated by Kar’niss’ throat suggested he was in pain. It was akin to a steady purr but by no means positive in pitch.

“Kar’niss? It’s Tav. Are you alright?”

They could hear shuffling from above, the drider seemingly backing up more into their nest. “Go away,” he hissed in frustration.

Tav frowned at his dismissal, their arms moving to cross over their chest. They began to tap their foot as their lips pressed into a thin line. “I can’t help you if you’re up there and I am down here. Please?”

Kar’niss didn’t respond, retreating deeper into his webbing. Tav took in a steady breath while rubbing over one of their arms. They wandered over to the tree, reaching out to feather their fingertips over the web, admiring how sticky and soft the adhesive silk was. They turned around and leaned back against the exposed portion of the tree, their shoulders taking on a slump while their mind was hard at work on a solution. Several moments of silence passed, the quiet drifting breeze mingled with Kar’niss’ labored breathing the only sound to be heard. Tav closed their eyes and exhaled firmly.

“I know you’re afraid. If you want to know the twisted truth of it, we all are. Everyone here has something to lose, or something they are running from. They put on a brave face because they have to, it’s the only thing keeping them from falling apart. But most importantly, none of us would’ve been able to make this journey alone. We may not always agree or get along but we are all working toward the same goal; Freedom.” Tav rubbed at their weary eyes, their palms sliding across their face until their fingertips coiled against the tip of their chin. “I don’t know everything that has happened to you but the thing is I don’t need to. I can tell you’ve endured endless horrors, seen things you wish you hadn’t, suffered unspeakable torture. You don’t have to suffer your burdens alone, Kar’niss. Not anymore. If you’ll let me I can help you but I can’t do that if you hide from me. I gain nothing by hurting you.”

Tav could hear some light movement above them but they opted not to look up to avoid spooking the uneasy drider. “At least come down and let me clean the blood off, patch up the worst of the wounds. That way you can heal and regain your strength.” They’d pause, their gaze dropping to the matted grass beneath their feet. “If I wanted you dead I had the perfect opportunity to make that happen last night. You were vulnerable, unhinged, distracted. I didn’t hurt you though, did I?”

Kar’niss’ front legs jutted from the doorway of the cocoon, his head peeking out to peer down at Tav. “No,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Tav turned around to peer up at him, finally able to see the one he’d grown familiar with along their journey. “Then I think you owe me at least this much. Come down.” They lifted an arm and extended their hand in Kar’niss’ direction.

He eyed the hand with an air of skepticism, mulling over all that had been said. Eventually he crawled his way out of the elevated burrow, climbing his way down the tree. Tav stepped back to make room, able to finally assess the damage up close. Kar’niss was battered and bruised, particularly his face. His rounded abdomen at the back had a crack in the chitin from where he forcefully backed into a tree. Dried blood was caked in his hair while red splotches were present over his face and chest. Tav looked over his body and scowled in concern.

“Lower your body down so I can reach, please.”

The drider hesitantly complied, their long legs curled into sharp points at the joints either side of him. Tav retrieved the cloth and dipped it into the water bucket, wringing it out before returning to him. “This may sting a little but it is only temporary.” Tav cupped Kar’niss’ chin with one hand while the other guided the moist cloth over his face to clean away the blood smears. He flinched in response actively leaning away out of instinct but Tav did not chide him for this. Instead they waited for him to calm so they could resume.

“We do not understand why you do this for us,” Kar’niss said. His eyes watched Tav’s face as if expecting deception in their reply.

Tav hummed in thought while cleaning off his face. “Because I want to. But if you require something with more depth, I do this because I’m betting no one else ever has. It’s really no bother to me if that is your worry. Everyone deserves positive attention, yourself included.”

He blinked, perplexed by the reply. He didn’t seem to understand the statement or at the very least had a hard time accepting it. “We find this behavior strange. But if it appeases you then do what you must.”

Tav chuckled and looked up at him. “It does appease me. Now hold still please.”

They finished cleaning off his face which revealed the half healed claw marks etched across his face. Tav retrieved a bottle of salve, uncorking the cap in order to apply the white paste over the scratch marks etched into his cheeks.

“How long did it take you to build all of this webbing?” Tav asked.

“A few hours,” Kar’niss murmured. He squirmed a little as the salve was applied but did his best to stay still. “It is fortunate there are many trees so close together. It makes weaving less complicated.”

Tav smiled. “It’s beautiful work, I must admit. Intimidating, but beautiful all the same.”

“Those caught in it would not agree,” Kar’niss said.

“I suppose not. I am glad I am not one of them.”

Once satisfied his facial wounds were treated, they moved around to inspect the crack in the chitin over the spider abdomen. They ran their fingers over the hardened surface, able to feel how rough and bumpy the texture was. In truth it was fascinating to them but they didn’t want to gawk.

“Leave it,” Kar’niss said. “It will close in its own time.”

They heard what he said but still found themselves gently petting over the curvature along the surface, feeling every imperfection along the way. They leaned over to peer curiously at his spinnerets which were barely visible beneath the stinger on his tail end.

“Amazing,” they whispered.

Kar’niss’ backside wiggled and his legs shuffled beneath him. “Stop staring.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I’m just a bit curious I suppose. I’ve never seen someone like you before.”

The drider grunted and crab walked to the side, his arms crossed over his chest. “We are an abomination. We are drider.” His tone was stiff and irritated, averting his eyes from Tav completely.

The adventurer chuckled and stepped in front of him, seeking to find his gaze and meet it. “You are a drider, but you are no abomination. If I’m lucky someday you might deign me with a tour of your branch burrow. It looks cozy.”

Kar’niss tipped his head to the side with a hint of confusion, his nostrils flaring in a sharp exhale. “Perhaps…”

“Mm I will need to clean out your hair but I will do so once the salve has set. For now I think you’re in better shape and that is a relief. Thank you for allowing me to help.” Tav paused as a thought dawned on them. “One more thing. If...you start to hear those voices again and they become too much, seek me out. Night or day it doesn’t matter. We might have a chance to cut them off at the pass before you seek to harm yourself. I’d rather try than just stand by and let it happen. Does that sound good?”

Kar’niss rubbed at one of his arms, his pedipalps pulled taut against his lower half. “Yes...we can agree to this.”

“Good, I’m grateful. Now get some rest. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”

Tav picked up the bucket, the water within a murky color from the dried blood and dirt. At least Kar’niss looked far better than when Tav found them and his pained purring had ceased. They left the area to return Kar’niss’ solitude to him, leaving the drider alone to think. He scaled the tree and returned to his silken cocoon, crawling inside to get comfortable. He reached up and touched over the sticky salve on his face, noticing how it reduced the burn of the scratch marks and brought him some ease. He thought over everything Tav said and a lot of it stuck out. But when he thought about it deeper he realized they were right. No one had ever done this for him before. Not in the Underdark, not in Moonrise, no where. What did this mean?

It left him with a whole host of feelings he didn’t understand or know how to process. Did this mean he could trust Tav? Had he finally found a place where abuse and belittling wouldn’t strike from around every corner? Experience told him that it was all a ruse, a falsehood surely to be revealed in time. Yet for the first time he could recall a new voice was starting to form in his mind. Not one born of Lolth’s cruelty nor of the Absolute’s control. This was different, new, and it was saying something he didn’t expect.

Do something for Tav.

His eyes widened, startled. Repaying a kindness? It was a novel concept and one he didn’t consider before. Perhaps because kindness was a word foreign to him, much less being on the receiving end. It begged the question, what could he possibly do in return? He had nothing of value and most of his talents were based on combat. Most, but not all. He took in a sharp breath, a eureka moment hitting him, nodding to affirm his decision to himself. He would do it.

The day wore on and Tav had left with Astarion, Wyll and Shadowheart to scout ahead. They ran into a few battles along the way but managed to return to camp in the evening with little injuries to report. Gale went to work starting dinner while the others gathered around to compare the loot they’d obtained, the atmosphere generally upbeat which was a nice change of pace.

Tav wandered over to their tent to change out of their dirty clothes, looking forward to relaxing after an exhausting day. Yet when they slid inside they noticed something unusual resting on their pillow. Upon closer inspection it looked almost like a doll but woven in a strange way. They picked it up to get a better look, noticing the material used was sticky to the touch. Was this...webbing? The item had two outstretched arms and two legs, similar to a gingerbread man in shape. Sticks were used as a skeleton underneath the weave so it maintained its shape, the web tightly wound around and around until it formed a solid base. Leaves and grass were glued on to represent clothes with two tiny pebbles squished into the head to form eyes. It was then that Tav realized this was meant to represent themselves. Not a perfect likeness but damn close for the limited resources the maker had to work with. Tav’s lower lip quivered once the realization hit, their heart squeezing within their chest. They sat cross-legged on their bed roll and smiled, bringing the make-shift doll to their chest so they could hug it close. It was the greatest gift they could’ve ever received, especially knowing where it came from. They didn’t move from that spot, hoarding the gift as if it were the most grand treasure known to man.

“Thank you, my dear Kar’niss.”

[sageisdark]

sweet dreams (pt. 1)

↳ when he finally gets his hands on you.... (18+)

pairing: Gus Fring x reader

wordcount: 500+

warnings: reader has a vagina; hints of drugging, intox, somno, bondage, blindfold, dubcon, nipple play, teasing, reader has a bush & a big clit, petnames "darling" and "sweetheart" used, Gus refers to himself as "Papa"

“Shhh darling, I’ve got you now…"

Whispers echoed above you, the darkness covering your eyes may have clouded your sight but you could still feel. Your nude body was exposed to the cold air, goosebumps traveling across every inch of your skin. Your nipples were painfully erect, sensitive and throbbing for more sensation. You were spread apart, with your limbs tied to each of the corners of the bed. Deft fingers crawled over you, exploring, wandering, while he murmured sweet praises under his breath. The voice was unfamiliar, but he moved around your body as if he’d been here before, touching you in spots that only you knew of, causing you to wriggle and squirm underneath his grasp. 

You were still half-asleep, a heavy drowsiness seeping into your bones. Everything was fuzzy. Memory didn’t serve you here, it didn’t allow you to recall the time, the day, the last thing you did, who this was touching you….

“What is…?” Your question became lost in a gasp, your back immediately arching off the bed as you felt a wet, warm mouth latch onto your breast. A tongue skillfully swirled around your nipple before exploring the patterns written into your areolas. You cried out at the feeling, flashes of lightning striking inside from your nipple straight down to your cunt. 

It was as though he wanted you to beg, to plead for more. He didn’t dare to move to your other nipple, no matter how hard you writhed in his hold, eager to use your own fingers to pinch and pull at the tender nub. The stirring deep within your belly grew increasingly intense as time passed, your toes curled and bottom lip sore from biting it so hard. 

The mouth on your nipple loudly released itself, leaving your tit wet and marked with gooseflesh. Suddenly, you felt a gust of cold air directly hitting your breast, the wetness making the fire burn so much hotter in you. Your cunt throbbed in your panties, already so wet that you could feel the lace sticking to your swollen lips. Desperate hips jerked up, blindly searching for the source of relief above you, your clit poking a slight tent as it grew. 

A kiss on your clothed cunt had you nearly losing your mind, especially when he paused, taking a few moments to deeply take in your scent. A warm, musky smell emanated from your pussy and it seemed to be his favorite thing. With each inhale taken, you could feel the heat of his exhales against you, further warming and loosening you up. Fingers pulled your panties down your body, taking them off to reveal your bushy cunt, the thick, curly brown hair grown out as if you were one of those 70s dirty magazine vixens. Your big clit pulsed in the air, now unknowingly being ogled by the man kneeling in between your legs. Hands landed on your waist, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs

“Relax, sweetheart…Papa’s got you, I’ve got you.”

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

[tj-dragonblade]

[Fic] Use Your Words

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Morpheus) Rated: T Word Count: ~2500 Warnings: Mistletoe Notes: My first foray into this fandom. Be gentle; I may not have them quite right. It's been four years since last I wrote anything and I'm a bit rusty.  Many thanks to @virgo-dream for the beta!

Summary: Hob finds mistletoe hung in the bar. Dream is. Insistent. That they adhere to tradition.

On AO3

~~~***~~~ "Now where did that come from?"

'That' was a bright sprig of dark green leaves and waxy white berries, hanging innocently from a random low beam near the end of the bar, and Hob was very sure that he hadn't hung it there. Mistletoe was all well and good among friends and holiday parties and such, but putting it up in the pub where random strangers might happen beneath it in the middle of the afternoon, not so much. Bit of unneeded potential for harassment and Hob wasn't keen to invite that sort of trouble. He'd have to take it down post-haste and make sure his staff knew not to re-hang it.

Beside him, Dream blinked up at the little plant. "Mistletoe," he pronounced, in precisely the overly-casual tone of discovery one might use to imply one had just noticed something one had in fact already been aware of. "We. Would seem to be standing beneath it."

Hob frowned and peered up at the little sprig, which they were indeed now directly under when he was quite certain they hadn't been a moment ago. "…So we are." Which. Huh.

And didn't that set his nerves afire, just a little bit.

"We are meant to share a kiss, then, I believe?" Dream was staring at him now, intent and direct, the bare tilt of a question in his eyebrows.

And that set Hob's pulse racing, quite definitely, no 'little bit' about it.

"You know the tradition, then?" he hedged, mouth gone suddenly dry.

Dream favored him with a look that could have withered the greenery above them, and yes, right. Prince of Stories, entirety-of-the-collective-unconscious, all that. Holiday traditions surely fell within that purview.

Hob swallowed, nerves still singing a gloriously freaked-out tune over the drumbeat of his racing heart. Surely Dream was not expecting—

Dream was still looking at him, expectantly.

And it's not like Hob had any objections, of course! Not like he hadn't thought about the possibility of kissing Dream dozens of times, hundreds even—thousands perhaps, who was counting—but he'd never expected that Dream would suggest it first, under any circumstances, that it would ever be anything Dream could possibly want.

Was he reading things right?

He didn't think he was reading them wrong, but...well. Sure it'd been a hundred and thirty-odd years and there was certainly an openness to Dream these days that hadn't been there then, but "You DARE??" still haunted Hob on many levels and he'd rather not earn himself an encore. Especially not over a frivolous holiday tradition.

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly, aware of the heat in his face. "Okay but don't feel like you have to; there's no obligation." He glanced away, fiddled self-consciously with his earlobe. "I mean, it's just a silly tradition, not as if there's mistletoe police lurking about…"

Hob's dismissive rambling trailed off unconvincingly and Dream tilted his head a little, eyes narrowing the slightest bit.

"I would honor this tradition, Hob. Unless. Are you opposed?"

"Oh no! Not opposed, no." God, no, couldn't have him thinking that. "In that case then, ah, let me just—okay—" He leaned over and brushed a quick peck against the corner of Dream's mouth, quick enough to avoid the temptation of more, but not quick enough to avoid feeling the cool smoothness of Dream's skin beneath his lips in a way that would surely keep him awake long hours tonight.

Desperately trying to school his expression to 'normal' versus 'hopelessly besotted and dying to do that properly except I'm afraid of driving you off for another hundred years', Hob dared a glance at Dream's face. Which was…impassive as ever, with a hint of not-what-I-expected lurking in the downward tick of his mouth.

Wrangling his nerves, Hob flashed a grin and glanced up. "Can't forget to pick a berry, now, else people'll be stuck kissing under this forever—" What a completely inane thing to say, but he couldn't seem to quite get a handle on his tongue. At least none of the bar patrons were paying them any mind; they may as well have been alone for the lack of attention they were drawing.

The berry vanished from his grasp as soon as he'd plucked it, dissipated into nothingness, but that was to be expected, perfectly normal, right? He glanced at Dream to confirm and instead found himself watching transfixed as Dream reached up, pale, slender fingers caressing a waxy white berry of nearly the same shade, and Hob's fool mouth just kept running. "We don't both have to pick one, it's only, y'know, one berry one kiss—"

"I am aware." Dream cut him off and then, quite deliberately, pulled the little berry free of its stem. "But, as I wish to receive another kiss…" He was staring at Hob expectantly again.

Oh.

Still off-kilter, still not sure quite how this was actually happening but also still possessed of enough faculties to not question his good fortune just yet, Hob leaned in and pressed his lips softly to Dream's, full-on this time, lingering just a little. Dream tilted into it, moved his own lips in complement—and oh. Again. Hob shivered, a thrill of delight running effervescent down his spine, goosebumps blooming all along his arms.

He pulled back before he could let himself get lost in it, because getting lost in it would be so easy yet terribly unwise.

"Dream?" Now apparently was the moment to question, his mouth decided, to suss out what his (very dear) friend intended because surely, surely this couldn't be as straightforward as it was trying to appear?

But Dream was regarding him with something approaching consternation, mouth flat and eyes disbelieving; he reached up to pluck another berry, swift and precise, flicking it away to dissolve into thin air as he spoke. "Hob Gadling." He plucked another, and another, punctuating his next words sharply. "I would—" pluck "—have you—" pluck "—kiss me—" pluck "—properly."

Okay. However they'd gotten here, that was clear enough, and Hob wasn't waiting to be told again.

Dream met him halfway this time, fingertips lighting on his face to guide him properly-as-requested to Dream's mouth and Hob just went with it, tossed aside dozens of decades of caution and restraint and finally kissed Dream like he meant it. Dream made a tiny little sound, high and soft like a wish at long last granted and that was it. Hob threw his arms around Dream's skinny frame and Dream's hands tangled eagerly into his hair and they were kissing, kissing, kissing like they couldn't get enough and never mind the public setting.

Hob couldn't hear whether or not they were getting catcalls or wolf whistles, not over the thunder of his own pulse in his ears, and he couldn't have cared anyway because Dream was clinging to the curve of his skull, was kissing like he meant to devour him and Hob was one hundred percent down for it. He pressed himself flush against Dream, arms wrapped tight around him, feasting on Dream's ravenous intensity as the kissing went on and on.

Dream pushed forward and Hob followed his prompting, let Dream guide him one step back, two, and then they fetched up against the bar, the edge of the counter digging into Hob's spine. "Hob," Dream murmured, right against his lips, and Hob shivered at the way his name sounded in that voice at this moment. Dream was kissing down the line of his jaw now and Hob sighed, tilted his head up to offer his throat as well.

"God, is this really happening?" Running his mouth was going to be a continuing theme, apparently. "D'you have any idea how long I've dreamed about you, like this?"

Dream tucked his face into the arch of Hob's neck, breath soft against the skin there before he kissed, grazed it with sharp teeth. "Have you any idea, how long I have wished to do such things with you?"

"I—wait, no. Really?" Hob pulled back to look at him, but was caught instead by the silence of the pub around them. Was everyone staring; had they made that much of a scene?

No, as it turned out, because when Hob actually looked, he found that all the patrons had vanished and the pub itself was sort of washed over like watercolor, barely-there around the edges, an unfinished painting. Only the two of them and the beam hanging the mistletoe above them were in focus and fully rendered.

"Oh no, this is only—I'm dreaming, aren't I." He kissed Dream again anyway, absolutely crestfallen, remembering vanishing mistletoe berries and other unheeded anomalies that suddenly made sense. "You aren't even—this isn't real, is it, just my imagination. Again."

"I have told you, Hob, the Dreaming is as 'real' as the waking world."

"To you, I'm sure," Hob lamented, kissing him mournfully, speaking against his mouth, drawing the words across his cheek. "But are you actually here? Am I even going to remember this when I wake up?"

Dream paused at that, stepped back—stepped out of Hob's arms—and Hob ached at the sudden loss. Then, with an expression somehow equal parts annoyance, arousal, and apology, Dream reached up and pulled down the entire mistletoe sprig from overhead, made a quick horizontal gesture with his other hand. "This dream is over."

Hob startled awake, sprawled into the corner of his couch, disoriented for half a second at the abrupt change and scrambling madly to sit upright, to hold onto the threads of the dream. Because Dream had been in it, had all but demanded his kisses—and if he'd really been there—

His head jerked up toward a sudden shifting of displaced air across the room. Dream stepped into existence in a soft swirl of sand and stalked toward him, dropping the mistletoe sprig on the coffee table, swinging himself down to straddle Hob's lap with his knees snug against either hip. He pushed Hob back into the couch, looming over him in a way that had every bit of Hob paying very rapt attention.

Dream's hands smoothed over Hob's shoulders, as if to gentle a high-strung animal; ironic, that was, when Dream himself was held taut as a bowstring, so tense he was trembling with it.

Hob barely managed an almost-steady tone. "Not just a dream, then?"

Dream's eyes were boring into his with intensity, gone dark and starry. "Be assured, Hob. I would have this in the Waking as well as in the Dreaming. I would not have you…doubt, my affections—"

"Oh good," Hob croaked, and then both hands were buried in Dream's hair, mouth open and angling for Dream's, and Dream collapsed against him, melted into the kiss with a soft sound of relief that sent Hob absolutely soaring.

It was several moments before they drew apart, Dream's hands carding through Hob's hair now and Hob's at Dream's hips, keeping him settled close. Dream rested his forehead against Hob's, eyes fluttering shut, fingertips stroking gently against Hob's scalp. Hob shivered at the sensual touch, fragments of their dream encounter resurfacing while he caught his breath.

"How long, then?" He slid one hand gently up Dream's spine and back down.

"Long enough." Dream kissed him again, soft and eager. "Too long."

"You never said anything."

"Nor did you."

Hob slipped both arms around Dream's waist, underneath the galaxy-lined coat, giddy that he was allowed. "You were—I didn't think—clearly I'm an idiot, because here we are, but I couldn't imagine you taking kindly to my interest."

Dream drew back enough to study him, considering his words carefully. "I…would not have taken it kindly, before, no matter my own feelings. You are correct."

"But now?"

Dream kissed him again, fierce and insistent and sincere, a long moment of poured feeling before reining it in. "Much has happened, to alter my perspective." His lips brushed Hob's as he spoke and bloody hell but it was difficult for Hob to hold back when the promise of kissing him again was right there. He managed, though, because Dream wasn't done yet and Hob was desperately interested in what he had to say, actually.

Dream put a little more distance between their faces, held his gaze now, fingers still laced into his hair. "Hob. I would. Give you candor. I would have you know, the value I place on your friendship. I would express my regard for you in every way you will accept it."

"In any way. Every way. I'm yours. However you'll have me, whatever you'll allow." Hob was reasonably successful, he felt, at corralling his mental babbling into coherent speech. "I'm yours, Dream. I'm yours."

Affections. Regard. Bloody brilliant. He felt the radiant smile splitting his face and let it happen.

Dream kissed it as it blossomed, reverently, and Hob's heart ascended.

"I should like to kiss you more often, Hob Gadling," Dream declared then. "It is every bit the delight I had hoped it to be."

Hob was never coming back down to earth, was he. "Y'know, if you'd led with that and your pretty little speech instead of bleeding mistletoe, I would have been kissing you sooner?"

"It was meant to be…spontaneous, and whimsical." Both things that Dream was decidedly not, generally speaking, but Hob held his tongue. "The dreamers are currently…awash, in their various holidays and accompanying traditions. This tradition, in this season, seemed an opportune means to express my intentions."

'Intentions'. Wasn't that just a fine old-fashioned way of saying it.

Hob grinned wider, trying (and mostly failing, but trying, dammit) to keep the giddiness under control. "So…what you're saying is, you're my Christmas present?" It was a terrible joke. He couldn't help it.

Dream gave him a look halfway between askance and consideration. "…If you wish to view it as such, then…very well. I am your Christmas present."

Delighted, joyful, Hob leaned up and kissed him, because he could.

Dream straightened up a moment later, regal as anything never mind that he was still perched astride Hob's lap, and his well-kissed expression shifted into something mildly imperious. "It is customary to unwrap one's gifts when presented with them, is it not?"

Hob's brain stuttered, ground to a shuddering halt, full record-scratch Hob-dot-exe-has-stopped-working blue screen. Dream had allowed his terrible joke to stand, that was remarkable enough, but now he'd gone and turned it around and lobbed it back? Embellished it with innuendo, of all the impossible—?

He stared up at Dream, wide-eyed and tongue-tied. "Um."

Was he. Did he mean it?

Dream gave him a mildly unimpressed look, with a little curl of smugness underneath; he leaned back in, pressed himself close, grazed his rose petal lips across the shell of Hob's ear. The softest of sighs ghosted after, and then his voice, warm and dark and rich as velvet.

"Unwrap your present, Hob. That you may. Open it, properly."

Hob-dot-exe restarted with gusto; he didn't need to be told a third time.

All in all, it was a very merry Christmas indeed.

===== Started: 12/8/22

Drafted: 12/23/22

Posted: 12/25/22

[beautiful-and-terrible]

“falling into place”

mike schmidt x reader

summary: “You meet Mike Schmidt under rather unfortunate circumstances. Luckily, he's a decent guy, and tries to make it up to you. Besides, who could say no to those big brown puppy-dog eyes?”

tags: Slow-burn, domestic, hurt/comfort, gradual friends-to-lovers, whatever the opposite of a meet-cute is, because mike is a disaster, sub!mike, dom!reader, eventual smut

Part 2

also available on my Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51690952/chapters/130675165

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched raindrops race down the window. It was a Friday afternoon, and you were an hour away from being done with your shift at your town’s local, run-down grocery store. You were working the cash register - a mindless, repetitive task that sucked the soul out of you, but it paid the bills. You didn’t mind talking to customers, when they were polite. It was usually hit or miss with the older customers. They never seemed to understand that you couldn’t accept expired coupons. Or that eggs really were $1.05, yes even for the non-organic ones.

This particular afternoon was going especially poorly. You had two people refuse to pay their bills and just walk out with their groceries, you had a screaming child in line with her mother who kept begging you to just “give the kid a piece of candy for free”, and at least three older men had told you “you’d do your job a lot better if you smiled.”

By the last hour of your shift, you were on the verge of a breakdown. Tears pricked your eyes - your feet hurt, your back ached, and your heart was still tender from being chewed out by your manager for letting those two people walk out without paying. As if you, a minimum wage employee, had the authority or skills necessary to stop two shoplifters. And besides, you didn’t really think stealing essential things like food warranted arrest or reprimand, anyway.

So that’s why when a particularly mean old bat who smelled like mothballs and cat piss yelled at you for not scanning her groceries quickly enough, you finally snapped. You slowly put down the fifth carton of prune juice you had scanned, untied your apron that had your name tag pinned on it, and let it drop to the ground.

You looked the old woman in the eyes, flipped her off, and walked out. As you passed your manager on your way to the front door, you flipped him off, too. The way his face went beet red with rage would remain in your brain as one of the funniest things you’d ever seen. You were pretty sure there was a vein in his temple about to burst.

So now you had no job. Great. You sighed, putting your head in your hands as you stood under the covered walkway that led into the store. You stood like that for a long time, just letting the reality wash over you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to cry in public, but as soon as you got home you would put on your softest hoodie and sweatpants, and have a good cry about how shit your life had been these past few months. You steeled yourself, raising your head and starting to walk towards your car.

You were about half way out into the rainy parking lot, holding your jacket above your head, which blocked your peripheral view, when you were suddenly on the hard, wet ground and your vision pulsed with white stars. It felt like you had been sucker-punched by the Hulk. You looked around dazedly, trying to figure out why you were suddenly on the ground.

Headlights beamed directly at face level as you sat up, rubbing your head. You brought your hand away - no blood, at least. But your wrist hurt like a fucking bitch. The throbbing pain got worse by the second - each beat of your heart caused the flesh around your wrist to swell up like a balloon. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry, are you okay? I looked away for a second and you came out of nowhere I’m so fucking sorry-”

You looked up to see two very distressed, very pretty hazel-brown eyes staring down at you. A man with a mellow voice was apologizing profusely, attempting to help you stand up. You could only nod dumbly, holding out a hand placatingly.

“I’m fine, I think… my wrist really hurts,” you pouted, trying not to sound like a child but your day had been so dogshit that your usual barriers were crumbling easier than normal.

“Let me take you to the Urgent Care, it’s the least I can do…” he trailed off, grabbing you by both elbows to help you up off the wet ground. You shivered, from the cold rain dripping down your neck and from the adrenaline of the moment starting to wear off. The man helped you into the passenger seat of his car and got in the drivers side.

You looked down at your wrist - it was already swollen. Your lip started to tremble, and big, fat tears started to leak from your eyes. You sniffled, which caught the guys attention.

“Oh, hey, don’t cry. I’m sure it’s just sprained. And I’ll even try to help pay for your cast or whatever… not that I have any extra money but that’s the right thing to do…” he murmured under his breath. You glanced at him and gave him a half smile, wiping the tears off your face.

“Don’t worry about that. I just appreciate the ride. I’ve had a pretty shit day - getting hit by a car was just the cherry on top.

“Yeah, I know about shit days,” he said simply, then winced, looking in the rearview mirror. “Sorry, Abs. A pretty crap day, is what I meant.”

You turned around, confused. In the back seat was a girl of about 11 or 12, looking sullenly out the window. She shrugged noncommittally.

“Hi,” you said softly. The girl glanced at you, frowned, and turned more toward the direction of the window. You looked at the guy, who just sighed.

“That’s my sister, Abby. She’s having a crap day, too.”

“Dang. The three of us should start a club,” you said, which made the guy let out a snort of laughter. You looked at him, surprised by the display of mirth.

“So… what’s your name?” he asked, stopping at a red light. You told him your name, which he repeated before saying, “Nice to meet you. I’m Mike.”

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 1

Ok here we go

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

From what I know, very few blind people actually perceive their surroundings as complete darkness, and it's more common for people to still perceive changes in light.

For Byakuya, he has low vision, so he can see color and vague outlines, but finer details are more or less impossible. Get Gaussian blurred, idiot.

I'll include content warning tags before each chapter but if I miss anything please let me know.

Content warning tags: implied non-consensual body modification, ableist internal dialogue

next >

The first thing that Byakuya Togami notices when he wakes up isn't the unfamiliar classroom of his surroundings, or the uncomfortable position in which he was slumped over on the wooden desk.

Rather, the first thing he wonders is: Why are my glasses so filthy?

His surroundings are fogged around him as he blinks, squints, and tries to make out anything more distinct than a vague, fuzzy blob of color. He takes off his glasses and cleans them with a silk handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and puts them back on. And then takes them off again, places them to his mouth and fogs the surface, wipes them, and tries again. And then again, and again, until at last he sets slowly down the spectacles with a quiet 'click' against the desk, blinking slowly, deliberately.

It didn't make sense. It was one thing if his glasses were just filthy, though he couldn't imagine who he would let get close enough to dirty them up to this point, but it was another thing for him to be nearly blind without them. Even without his lenses, his vision was nearly 20/40 - and yet, here he found himself squinting his eyes to nearly shutting, and was still unable to discern even the large, colorful characters on the brochure on the desk next to him, even when held less than an inch away from his face.

Impossible, he thinks first. He must still be half-asleep, and he rubs his eyes, trying to wipe away some invisible veil, knuckling against his eyelids until stars burst in the darkness. But the fog still didn't clear.

The realization is a sick dread that settles into the pit of his stomach. He doesn't panic, because a Togami doesn't panic, but an old anxiety was beginning to grow, twining roots into his chest. He opts to ignore that and the rising beat of his pulse and begins flicking through his memories, logically and methodically, trying to think when and how this could have happened.

He woke up this morning at his usual five AM. He went through his usual morning routine until six, at which point his chauffeur drove him to Hope's Peak Academy by seven. He passed excited crowds of news reporters, fellow students, and crying parents, through the school doors...

And then...

Nothing. He rubs his thumb against the bridge of his nose, trying to come up with anything past stepping foot into the entrance hall, but all he gets is a nauseating blur, the memories turning to mush. Had he passed out? Did someone carry him here? How long had it been since then?

What time is it, he thinks, and looks up. His watch is as good as useless, the pearl hands blending in nearly perfectly with the egg-colored enamel face, so he scans the room for a wall clock, and finally locates a vague, white circle hanging above the dark expanse of the blackboard. The thin black hands aren't even visible to him, and he ends up having to stand directly below it to make out what positions they're pointing at. It was just before 8, which meant that it hadn't even been an hour since he first crossed the threshold.

It was possible that that would have been enough time to knock him out, blind him, and then leave him here, but Hope's Peak prided itself on its security, especially for its high-class students. And Byakuya had been surrounded by his bodyguards all the way until his unconsciousness. And he had made sure that the few siblings who survived his family's game of inheritance didn't have the resources or the will to try anything so petty as vengeance.

He rubs his eyes again, as if that would do anything. From what he could tell, he was in a classroom, likely still within the Academy, and it'd do him no good to stay in the room in the off-chance that his attacker returned. He needed to find someone - faculty, maybe, or one of his guards - and get his eyes fixed, first and foremost. And he wasn't so helpless that he'd let someone get the drop on him a second time, blinded or not.

But even with this plan in mind, he found his hand trembling as he set it on the doorknob, and he hesitates before he leaves the room.

The hallways are strangely empty, despite the earlier hubbub. There are no students running around trying to find their classrooms or their dorms, or exploring the facilities. There are no teachers either, offering welcomes and introductions, promoting the safety and warmth of the Academy. Rather, the place is eerily silent, and it unnerves Byakuya further.

He catches himself glancing around far too often, scanning desperately for any movement, and scolds himself for it. It was a show of fear, and one that he should have abandoned long ago, even when he was being chased by his older siblings in a wild game of power upheavals and assassinations. But between the lack of sound and the fact that his surroundings were entirely unfamiliar (and furthermore, entirely obscured), he couldn't help canting his head around like a nervous deer, trying to find even the smallest detail that could offer him anything.

He finally catches on to the low murmur of talking, however, and after a brief moment of consideration, walks towards the sound. If it was assassins, they would have to be very unprofessional ones to be speaking so casually in such an open space. And as he enters a large room, walled off on one side by a mass of steel-gray, he sees a few people standing around; none of them dressed remotely like an assassin, or acting like one, and he could even recognize the majority of them from their vague silhouettes and general colors, and the news article he had perused that morning about his fellow classmates. There was the broad frame of Sakura Ogami, the Ultimate Martial Artist, and then the wild, fluffed-up hair of Yasuhiro Hagakure, the Ultimate Clairvoyant. Even the wild pompadour of the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader, Mondo Owada, didn't escape his recognition, nor did the punkish, uneducated tone of his voice.

"Who the fuck're you?" The Owada-shaped figure grunts as Byakuya approaches, and he frowns at the rudeness, though he had expected nothing less.

He doesn't bother to respond right away, instead looking between those gathered. He counts thirteen blobs, which meant they were still expecting two more to join them to complete this year's class of sixteen. Standing closer, he can just make out some facial features when he squints; Owada's face in particular, has his brow scrunched in a look of disdain, and one person - Toko Fukawa, maybe? Judging by her braided pigtails - seemed to be watching him, though she quickly looks away as he turns towards her.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you!"

"I don't talk to ruffians," Byakuya replies, not even bothering to face him and ignoring the indignant sputters as he walks away. Even if all these people were strangers to him, he felt better already, being among them. The safety of a herd was something that a Togami was usually above, but it was good to take advantage of such things during perilous times, such as now. And at the very least, it might be harder for him to get singled out.

"Excuse me," comes a different voice, though no less sharp or intense. This time from a straight-backed figure in white, and with dark, spiky hair. "My name is Kiyotaka Ishimaru. Please introduce yourself!"

"And why should I?"

Ishimaru wasn't as easily ruffled by Byakuya's brusque manner as Owada, though his stark eyebrows did somehow furrow even more on his pale face. "As a class, we should all work together to get along for our educational crusade! We all have already introduced ourselves to each other. Please do the same!"

He was annoying. But he had a point. If Byakuya was going to be living with these people for his high-school life, he might as well let them know how to refer to him...and he had a feeling if he didn't offer the minimal level of cooperation to Ishimaru, he would never see the end of it. "Byakuya Togami," He replies simply, and moves on before anyone can say anything else.

None of these people seem to be killers. He can't sense any killing intent, though he does get an inexplicable shiver as he walks by Fukawa, standing next to the twin, pale-pink fans of Junko Enoshima's hair, though he puts that down as the rank odor that comes off of her as he passes. He settles to stand a small distance away from all of them, and with his curt introduction over and him standing seemingly out of earshot, they resume their conversation, and Byakuya can make out a few phrases that equally reassure and unsettle him.

'Do you think he's...like us?'

'Must have. I mean, he was walking from the direction of the classrooms, right?'

'Someone should go ask him, can you go ask...?'

'Forget it. He freaks me out, glaring like that...'

It sounded like they were all in a similar state, having woken up in a classroom and found their way here. He wonders if any of them were also blind, or otherwise found themselves suddenly impaired, but it wouldn't do him any good to reveal that about himself now. No matter how much safer it was to be a part of the group, he couldn't let them know his weaknesses, not if it turned out that one of them did mean him some kind of harm.

Standing from this position, he can finally recognize where he was. It was the entrance hall of the Academy, and behind him was where the entrance should have been. But instead, as he reaches out to touch it, he's met with a sheer surface of metal, heavy and unyielding, and not the proud, hand-carved wooden doors that he had passed through not an hour earlier. Was this place not Hope's Peak, then? If so, where was it? And how did they all get transported here?

He clicks his tongue, annoyed. He'd had nothing but questions and unsolved mysteries since he woke up, and it frustrated him almost as much as his vision. He fights the urge to keep touching his eyes, settling on drumming his fingers against his elbow, and finally polishing his glasses lenses once more. At this point, the action was as good as meaningless, but the repetitiveness of the motion was calming, and he couldn't help the quiet glimmer of hope that maybe, eventually, it would clear up.

He hears the newcomer before he sees them, the quiet click of footsteps from the hall making his head jerk up. He doesn't recognize this figure, not even as they approached nearer; white hair and dark purple clothes, not matching any of the profiles he had seen. He hears the others and Ishimaru give them a similar greeting, and the figure responds, voice calm and feminine.

"My name is Kyoko Kirigiri," Is all they say. Like Byakuya, they don't offer anything more, and for some reason that puts him on edge. They're too much like him, too calculating and careful - not the same fodder as the rest of the class - and they strike him as someone who knows more than they're letting on. He hears them ask some questions, mostly in regards to the classrooms and how everyone got here, before moving to stand just a few meters away from him in silence. Not approaching him, nor letting themselves be approached by anyone else.

Dangerous, he notes. He mentally files this away, and pretends to be too focused on cleaning the nose-pads of his glasses to pay them any mind.

A few minutes later, their sixteenth class member joins them. Makoto Naegi, someone else who hadn't stood out to Byakuya on the roster, has spiky brown hair and a bumbling, wondering voice. Unlike Kirigiri, he takes his time to talk to each of his classmates, and he sounds friendly but confused. And a little dense, in Byakuya's opinion - his entire demeanor screams 'commoner'.

Byakuya doesn't bother to say anything as Naegi moves to stand before him, not even as he feels expectant eyes resting on his face. But it becomes clear that the boy had no plans of walking away until he got a name at least, so Byakuya sighs and puts on his glasses, and glares down at Naegi, his face no more visible than it had been a moment before.

"Name's Byakuya Togami," Is all he says. Naegi babbles some kind of greeting, but Byakuya is already not paying attention, gaze wandering. This one didn't seem as dangerous as Kirigiri, at least, or even particularly outstanding in any other way. That made him seem all the stranger; a seemingly unremarkable person in a school meant for remarkable people; Byakuya couldn't imagine what his special talent could be, if he had one at all.

He tries to focus his gaze on one of the banners on the wall. Royal blue and etched with gold lettering - if he tries, he might be able to find the letters that match one of his ancestors. He frowns, staring intently…

"Um, are you...are your eyes okay?"

Byakuya stiffens immediately, eyes snapping back down to Naegi's face. "What is that supposed to mean?" He hisses sharply, and Naegi startles back, surprised.

"Sorry! I didn't mean-you were just squinting, even after putting on your glasses, so I just-" he stammers, voice deceptively innocent. Byakuya feels his blood run cold, his fists clenching at his sides. "Um, I'll just....go? Sorry again?"

He doesn't relax until Naegi has scurried away, nails biting into his palms as he tries to calm himself. Had he really been squinting so obviously this whole time, or had that peasant just been absurdly observant? Whatever the case, Byakuya would have to fix that habit, or else, keep the others from finding out.

Never mind what he thought earlier about Naegi seeming harmless. That boy was probably the most dangerous one here.

next >

[tftctwofficial]

The comic version of a drabble from a long while ago of a scene in the TFTCTW Western AU! The original scene in question is below the read more! There's differences between the comic and the writing, and that's due in part to the length of time between the two - sometimes details are forgotten and new ones are added!

Bigby was aware of the persistent throbbing in his side before he regained full consciousness. It’s steady pulse wove it’s way into his dreams, creating the illusion that something sharp was sliding it’s way in and out and in and out over and over again into his belly and back. When he woke up it was with a gasp, a hiss through his teeth, and a pained groan. He tried to move, to shuffle away from the sensation, but it only made it worse, so he stilled. Then, as he struggled to swallow the thick saliva that had built up in his mouth with a dry throat, he slowly remembered what had happened - he was shot. But that was the only thing he really and truly did remember. The fight before, then the blinding pain… then fading in and out… then the sting of something being poured over the wound, his arms and legs pinned and leather shoved between his teeth, the burning pierce of a needle… then nothing. He swallowed again, the motion easier this time, and when his eyes opened it was to a smoky orange glow. He squinted up at the rocky, craggy roof above him, shadows dancing in strange shapes, before he realized he was in a cave. Bigby knew he couldn’t really move his body, so he let his head roll to the side, squinting further as he looked directly into the heart of the campfire several feet away from him. He looked away, the flames burned into his vision for a moment, and his eyes managed to rest on Fox. The outlaw seemed to have not noticed the sheriff’s awakening, if the way he continued to stare blankly into the fire was any indication. He might not have heard Bigby over the crackling of the fire or perhaps - as he was just now registering - the crescendoing rain echoing throughout the cavern, drowning out most other noises. Bigby would’ve called out to him, gotten his attention, but his pain and sleep-addled brain still hadn’t gotten to that point of function yet. It also didn’t help that he was too busy being confused by Fox’s state of undress. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Bigby had seen shirtless men before. It wasn’t an uncommon sight, especially in the hotter months, but he hadn’t seen Fox shirtless before - or, well, shirtless and fully unbandaged. His torso was paler than his arms and face but still as lightly dusted with auburn hair that glowed like copper in the firelight. Strong arms crossed over his chest, hands gripping his shoulders, and even from this distance Bigby could tell he was shivering despite the fire burning brightly in front of him. He could also see scars, new and old, crisscrossing over his skin - the telltale markings of a man who lived on the edge every day of his life, dancing with death constantly. The branding on his neck stood out the most, shimmering wetly in the light of the fire like it was still fresh. A fresh bout of tremors shook the outlaws frame, and Bigby took note of the white-knuckle grip he had on his shoulders and the clouded, tired look in his eyes and he wondered just how long he’d been out and when the man had gotten some sleep. And again, why he didn’t have his shirt. Bigby tried to speak but all that came out was a croak, one that Fox still didn’t hear. So he swallowed and shifted onto his elbows - biting his lip on a pained yelp - and felt something fall off him. He glanced down to see the bandit’s red button up puddle into his lap. It’d been used to cover him like a blanket, it seemed. Something about that made something in his chest twist, but he ignored it in favor of trying to speak again. “You mean to tell me you don’t have any other shirts?” His rasp broke whatever spell was over the man, because his head snapped up immediately - eyes wide and mouth agape in surprise before it broke into a grin. “You’re up!” He exclaimed, voice echoing off the rocks as he scrambled to his feet and making Bigby wince. “Thought I wouldn’t be?” He inquired as the outlaw circled the fire to kneel beside him, keeping his eyes on his face and not his chest which was a lot broader than he remembered it being.

[There is more to this drabble, but its unnecessary. Enjoy the sneak peek you get!]