#fuck it i'm just. HITTING POST i'm writing in circles

[ddejavvu]

I love your best friend with no boundaries James, and I was wondering if you could do one where James and reader are having their regularly scheduled mid-day naps, and Sirius and Remus walk into the dorm to find James just humping reader while they’re asleep? Maybe James and reader wake up to the GASP of horror from Sirius after his not so innocent eyes witness “straight up porn in their shared dorm where Peter of all people could witness”

I love all your works and was wondering if I could be marked as 😻anon? I’m the person who requested the bsf Steve imagine and I’m 100% gonna request something again because you’re perfect and I just wanna kiss you on the mouth🫶🏻🫶🏻

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Sirius considers himself James's best friend- no, brother, but he's not afraid to whack the man upside the head when he finds James grinding on you in his sleep.

"You-! Nasty-! Fucker-!" He bullies James awake, appreciating the much calmer, kinder way that Remus rouses you, tugging you away from James on the bed and murmuring that your nap is over. You blink your eyes open serenely, and James's shoot wide in pain as Sirius assaults him.

"What the fuck? Agh- Sirius! I know you're mad that I've got the better potions grade, but killing me won't help!"

"This isn't about potions, Potter," Sirius scoffs, "But I am thinking about tossing you in a hot cauldron. You were- eeugh, you were humping her, you animal!"

Your brows are furrowed and your blinks are bleary, but your brain catches up with the help of Remus's hands where they trace soothing circles on your back.

"Oh," You mumble groggily, as James groans with quickly reddening cheeks, "Uh- s'alright, Jamie."

Remus's hand stills on your back, but James and Sirius join in a fused indignant-confused "What?"

"S'just natural I guess," You shrug, "I dunno, I haven't- er, got one. But it was an accident, Jamie, you were asleep. It's alright."

James’s cheeks are still plenty rouged, but he nods sleepily at your forgiveness, relieved that he's not being hit by two people instead of only one.

"Yeah, thanks bird," He flops back down onto the mattress, letting out a sigh heavily infused with relief, "Wouldn't do it on purpose, y'know. Not while you're sleeping, that's- that's pervy."

"Some people like pervy," You hum, settling back into your own position in James's bed, though he's no longer curled around you. Sirius watches as you knock your hand against his own, "Sirius thinks I'm a perv."

"You're both pervs," Sirius grimaces, his lip curled in distaste as Remus stands from James's bedside, "Seriously, he eats off of your spoons, you've seen his dick, he's been grinding all over your ass - if you don't get a marriage license soon you're going to be very unpopular with the traditional crowd."

James turns towards you with a gasp, his eyes shining just the same as his grin does, "We could get married!"

"We should," You laugh, "And we could get a flat, and we could have your mother over for dinner every Tuesday."

"That would work." He nods, fully settled back into the pillows from Sirius's disturbance, "She loves you. And she's free Tuesday nights - her knitting circle ends at three."

"I know that," You scoff, barely biting back an overexaggerated eye roll, "James, I write your mother once a week. I know when her knitting circle is."

"You write my mum?" He rears back, momentarily confused, "She's never told me that!"

"Of course she hasn't," You snicker, "Because if you'd known, you would have stopped me from telling her how many times you get detention every week, and you'd want to share the sweets she sends me in exchange for the intel."

[televisionenjoyer]

Allow me to set the scene: it's 2026. Star Trek 4 (written by steve yockey) is finally out. There's a Shatner cameo as Kirk Prime. Against all odds, this is the movie where Spirk finally becomes canon. This is your dash on release week:

🤠destpirking follow

of course destiel is trending. steve yockey your impact.

🐶tonysopranosmallnaturals follow

ok let me see if i get this straight. In 1967 Theodore Sturgeon writes the Star Trek episode Amok Time, which introduces both the concept of Fuck or Die and of a humanoid species experiencing violent heat into the masses. Battle Angel Alita happens. Dark Angel happens. Jensen Ackles is in it. Supernatural happens. Some fan creates the omegaverse so that Jensen Ackles can experience misogyny. Supernatural keeps happening. Steve Yockey writes some notable Destiel episodes. Cas gay confesses to Dean and goes to superhell. Steve Yockey writes some other gay shit for dead boy detectives idk i havent watched that. Now in 2026 Steve Yockey has the honor to write the Star Trek that finally makes spirk canon and he somehow manages to invent a weird alien society in which there's misogyny for male vulcans also?? are we closing the portal?? is this what full circle looks like?? should we call kendall roy??

🧔jensenanklesofficial follow

ok so i've been watching the shatner interviews he's been doing lately regarding this movie and honestly it's time we cut him some slack. he shows sincere remorse for his previous actions and has shown clear support for the spirk ending and honestly how hard can we blame him for what he said as a guy who was brought up culturally homophobic and hit the prime of his fame in the sixties?? its enough that he's changed his mind at his age. what i'm saying essentially is i think it's time we forgive william shatner.

🐍ouroborosgaysex follow

OK WAS ANYONE GOING TO TELL ME THAT THEY SENT SPOCK TO THE NEXUS ON THE CHINESE RELEASE BECAUSE OF THE CENSORSHIP??? OR WAS I SUPPOSED TO FIND OUT FROM REDDIT??

👀spockstiels follow

say what you want about the admittedly shitty and predictable klingon genocide plot but i think i speak for all of us when i say 'billy shatner cameos as kirk prime to set up spirk in an attempt to redeem himself to the lgbt community' was on NO ONE'S 2026 bingo card

👨🏼startrekgaysex

no it was literally on my bingo card for years. i've made several posts about it in fact.

🌌thenexus follow

i DID NOT just read a post saying we have to forgive william shatner???😭😭😭😭 god i hate tumblr

📼deancasgenesis follow

"this was my nov 5th" shut up NOTHING will ever be like november fifth. you don't understand the impact of destiel.

🌟bisexualjimmykirk follow

you're joking right.

🖖🏼supersimplefeeling follow

congratulations jim kirk on becoming star trek's last first gay character.

[jxckchxmpi0n]

ghostface ethan with the “where do you think you’re going?” prompt pretty please <33

thank you <33

Sweet Dumb Thing

Ethan Landry x Reader |m.list

Summary: After taking the mask off and seeing your boyfriend and his family behind the killing, Ethan find a little too much joy in chasing you around the theater.

Warnings: Blood, gore?, cursing, character death....that's it?

Word count: 823

did not proof read.

I think writing angst might be my favorite thing. it all comes too easily to me.

(update: sorry i was moving into my new apartment...might post another in a bit <3)

The darkness seemed to follow you your whole life. Even after moving from Woodsboro that darkness followed you to New York. Standing in an old abandoned theater with Sam and Tara you three look in front of you as Baliey stood with Quinn and Ethan on his side. your cheeks soaked with tears as you saw the boy you love holding a knife, the ghostface mask in his hand and his body covered in the long robe.

Your head shook, this isn't real. "and my name isn't Ethan Landry isn't that right dad?" you looked at him as he had a dark smirk his brown eyes locked in on you.

"Dad?" Tara questioned she had tears in her eyes just like you as she looked at Quinn. They started to circle you three, Bailey went after Sam as she ran past the stage, Quinn ran after Tara as she made a run for the concession. Which left Ethan right in front of you.

Stumbling back you tripped on a wire falling back. "god you look so helpless, that makes this even more fun" he hovered over you as your back into the stage. Screamed and crashes echoed through building.

"What's wrong with you, this isn't right" your voice was shaky as you looked up at him. his curls sticking to his forehead some blood on his cheek as he spoke.

"See that's where you are wrong, this is good. This is the best thing I've ever done," he paused running the knife up your arm "next to sleeping with you, which was soo good" he let out a soft moan. "but killing you will feel better" his eyes were dark and hungry.

at your finger tips you felt a pipe and quickly grabbed it swinging it at his head. "fuck, you bitch" he stumbled back holding his head which gave you a chance to get up and run. you looked back quickly as you ran seeing him chasing you.

"get back here you bitch" he ran through the building holding the knife tightly with a different type of desire in his eyes. Finding some stairs you ran up them Ethan right on your tail.

"Where do you think you're going?" his voice hoarse and cold "I'm not even close to being done" he grabbed your ankle pulling you down the stairs making you hit your head. Screaming out you kicked at him making him tumble down. Grabbing your head you felt the warmth of blood on your temple and fingertips, the crimson color shining bright.

you looked down seeing him start to get up. In a panic you run up the stairs and he him running after you. a small room came up on your right so you ran in closing the door behind you. "oh honey where are you?" ethan's voice rang out. you could hear the anger in his voice. "don't think I'd let you slip out that easily" you heard him pulling old tarps down. your hand covered your mouth to stop you from screaming.

he was getting close the heavy footprints sounding louder. "oh come on you aren't gonna run?" he stood in the center of the room. Old trash all around, you watched him from an old closet. he looked around a proud smirk of his face. "what don't want me anymore? thought you said you'd love me no matter what baby"

you tried to make a run for it but didn't get far. he saw you and grabbed your leg spinning you around your chest to chest with him looking up seeing the brown eyes you once loved filled with nothing but darkness. he smirked and leaned down to your ear, "come on I'll say it again but in a different way....let me hear you scream" he raised is arm that held the knife. You were thrashing in his other begging him not to and in the next second his arm came down a loud gasp and scream ripped from your throat.

All he could do was laugh and repeat his action once more "there it is baby" he twisted the knife and pulled up in your back making you almost faint. "Don't say I never gave you anything" he whispered in your ear.

he dropped you to the ground and smirked seeing you try to move away. his foot came up and pushed down on the side the wound was on. your scream echoed through the room. "don't get me wrong baby....i did love you...just not the reasons you think" he pressed harder and your mind started to spin.

Ethan heard his sister screaming for him. with one last look he wiped your blood off his blade and left you there in the empty room. your mind fuzzy and slowly going black. the last thing you saw was the broken ceiling of the theater and the last twisted thought you had was you still loved Ethan.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Pure Filth

Pic used: x - It has not been altered.

Summary: You and Jensen enjoy a brief interlude back stage.

Pairings: Rockstar!Jensen x Musician!Reader (You)

Warnings: Smut. Dirty imagery. Brief fingering. Unprotected PinV sex. Public sex (mostly - your backstage, people are around). Little bit of dirty talk.

Word Count: 801

A/N: Okay, so I'm for sure still working on Chapter 5 and 6 of The Quicksilver Princess and barring some sort of disaster, I'll post both chapters by next Friday.

But I still haven't been able to get Austin out of my mind. The man is an absolute sex rock god! and the concert is lingering in my mind. I know I'm not alone. I got this request from @kayyay1219 and I knew I had to write something else besides Whiskey, Neat.

Hope you enjoy!! ❤️

As always, of course, this is a single, multiverse version of Jensen. This is a complete and utter work of fiction. 😊

His head was thrown back, his pearl white teeth sunk deep into his plush bottom lip as you rubbed him through his jeans. His body still dripped sweat and the tang of it hit your nose as you buried your face in his neck.

You and Jensen had barely made it off the stage before he'd slipped behind some stacked up equipment boxes to slam you against the wall there, only partially shielding you both from the eyes of those who were running around backstage. 

It didn't matter. 

The rest of the band and the road crew knew how the two of you were together. You fought hard, fucked hard, and made incredible, electric music together.

That volatile combination was what brought endless, teeming crowds to your concerts and made the band skyrocket to the top of the charts over and over again.

So everyone just dealt with the fallout from it.

Jensen's lips were frantic and searching now; he breathed you in as he ran his tongue along your jaw before plunging it, wide and wet, into your open, waiting mouth.

As he inhaled you, consumed you, his hands were pulling at your clothes, shoving them up and out of his way so he could dimple your soft, yielding flesh with his hard fingers, squeezing you so tight it felt like he was leaving his fingerprints behind.

You pushed your hands up under the tank top he wore, running them over his sticky skin to his back, loving the way his muscles flexed and moved under your roaming fingers. 

He lifted your tight black skirt so it sat around your waist and then pushed your panties aside so he could swipe his middle finger and forefinger through your hot, wet slick, coating them quickly.

“Unf, fuck, fuck…” He chanted into your ear, before growling loudly as you raked your nails down his beautiful back, collecting him under your nails. The skin and sweat there made you feel dirty and clean at the same time.

You often joked with each other that the life you lived together was pure filth.

The way you loved each other was pure, even if it was dangerous. The way you clung to each other as Jensen slammed into you, acting as an alchemist, changing you from two beings into one. He was Plato, putting the two halves of your one soul back together, and it was pure. 

But the sounds you both made, the physical reality of the moment between you was filthy. The way he grunted as he desperately tried to get even deeper inside you, the way you sucked in too much air and let it slowly leak out of you in an earthy, whining sigh, the way your bodies slid against one another, slick with sweat - it was filthy.

The two of you together were pure filth.

In the hot, thick cacophony of backstage, he fucked you hard and deep, your leg held to his hip as he drove into you. His other hand was pressed tight against your clit, his fingers circling and creating a sharp and aching pleasure that you knew was about to explode.

He knew it too, and when he spoke his voice was rough, whiskey soaked and demanding, the same voice he used when he sang your songs on stage.

“I want everything from you, baby, squeeze me so fucking tight. Give me all your heat and all your screams.” 

He bent his head to lick the salt from your skin and suck on your neck, drinking you in like smooth, sweet tequila.

With his final thrust, you gave up all he asked for, screaming and clenching around him so tightly that he came instantly, his body rutting against you as your pussy milked him dry. 

You both stood on shaky legs and pulled in shaky breaths as he crushed you against the wall, the only thing keeping the two of you propped up.

Less than a minute passed before you heard your stage manager calling out to you both, standing far enough away that she wouldn't get an unsolicited peep show.

“Come the fuck on, you two!" She yelled at you. “The crowd's going ape shit for an encore!” She walked away, shaking her head indulgently.

You managed to help each other stand up straight; you tucked Jensen back into his jeans, and he pulled your skirt back down.

The way you could feel his cum slowly leaking out of you, staining your panties and wetting your thighs, was indecently filthy.

But the warmth in his shining green eyes as he looked down at you, and the way you could both feel your hearts pick up the rhythm of the drums as they called you to the stage - that was beautifully pure.

It was the Yin and Yang of your lives with one another and you wouldn't have changed that perfect balancing act for anything.

Tag Lists:

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

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@alwaystiredandconfused

@jzackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

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@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

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@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

@kr804573

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@whimsyfinny

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

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@waywardcheshire

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

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@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

*

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

@fanfic-n-tabulous

[oikasugayama]

I love all your posts. In your dazai nsfw head canons, there was the thing with chuuya and I was wondering if you could write a fic on that? It's oki if not!! :)

tag-team

Inspired by letters I and W from my Dazai NSFW alphabet in which Dazai wants to fuck his girlfriend in Chuuya's office, and Chuuya gets to join in.

5.1k, jealous!dazai, afab!reader, cumming inside, cunnilingus, blowjob, fingering, soukoku bickering while fucking, etc. not soukoku but they do sexually interact, etc. not proofread bc i'm tired [click to read on ao3]

You urge Dazai to lock the door behind you, but he chuckles and shakes his head. “No baby,” he mumbles, sliding his hands past your hips and down to grab two handfuls of your ass. “He'll know something's up if the door's locked. If Chuuya catches us, we should be riiiight in the middle of things so he can't stop us.”

“Remind me why I let you talk me into this again?” you ask as he leans forward, chasing your lips even as you lean back and wait for an answer.

“Because fuck Chuuya. If I want to fuck my girl in his office, I will.”

“That's a terrible reason,” you gasp as Dazai slides one hand up your body and into the hair at the back of your head to pull you in for a kiss. His open mouth meets yours, tongues immediately gliding together with the same force as your lips. 

“But we're here, aren't we?” he asks after pulling back just for a second. “And I want you so bad.”

You whimper and let him reel you in once again. Your nerves will get the best of you if you have time to take in your surroundings; as it is your nose can't stop sniffing out the unfamiliar smells of luxuriois leather and some kind of smoke. If Dazai keeps leading you so confidently you'll be able to let go of yourself entirely and go along with this absolute ridiculous plan of his.

He kisses you faster and with more urgency than he does at home, making both of you breathless as you gasp into each other's mouths and lap at each other's tongues. 

His large hands glide over your body, up and down your back, hiking your top up and trying to dip into your pants. You follow his lead, reaching for the buttons on his vest and his shirt. He keeps kissing you through both of you martially undressing, his tops hitting the floor, yours following shortly after.

When he gets your bra off he makes you sit on Chuuya’s desk, and he leans down to suck on your tit. You lean back, tossing your hair over your shoulder, closing your eyes so you can focus on the feeling of Dazai's tongue circling your nipple as it perks and hardens at his touch. You make small noises, still shy in an unfamiliar place, but Dazai keeps working over you, suckling, kneading, teasing his teeth over your skin, until you're softly moaning his name and laying back, making him bend at the waist and lean forward to follow you down onto Chuuya's desk, ignoring whatever papers you land on. 

Dazai kisses lower eventually, and his deft fingers unbutton your jeans and start sneaking under the fabric.

“You're so pretty spread out for me on stupid Chuuya’s desk,” he says cupping your dampening panties in his palm. “I'm gonna make you feel so good the whole Mafia hears you screaming.”

Your eyes widen in panic briefly and you stutter out a no, but Dazai laughs softly and kisses right above where your panties cover.

“You're safe, baby, I promise. Not a single person here would be stupid enough to hurt a hair on your head.” He drags your jeans down your legs finally, and you kick a little as he pulls them over your feet. He grabs one ankle, kisses the inside of it, then holds your leg up and kisses slowly down, closer and closer to your crotch.

“These walls are soundproof anyways,” he says once he's near your inner thigh. “No one will hear you scream.”

You giggle softly and push his forehead away from you.

“Don't be creepy, weirdo.”

He smiles and lays his cheek against your thigh, his face so close to your clothed cunt. You watch him, desperate for his next move.

“There's my sweet girl. You really don't need to be worried, I promise.” You jump slightly when his finger presses just above your clit and pushes in as he drags it down, making your panties slightly stick between your folds. “I'd never put you in danger.” His voice lowers as his finger goes up again, still pushing in, now really emphasizing your cleavage. “You know that, right?”

You nod, giving a quiet “mhm.”

“Speak up,” he says, now tracing his fingers around the outside of your panties.

“I know,” you say, still keeping your eyes locked on his. “You'd never put me in danger.”

“Good. And do you know why?” His finger slips under by just a single knuckle, and he lifts your panties high, making the crotch pull taut and squish between your labia. You whine and try to push down to get some friction on your clit but it's barely there, he's holding your panties at just the wrong angle.

“Tell me.”

“Because you love me?” You guess, and he smiles widely.

“Exactly!” he says in his playful, excited voice. Then he rolls his head toward your crotch and licks a fat, wet stripe up one half of your exposed cunt. You make a startled little moan and he chuckles before licking the other side too.

“Now, do you want my tongue or my fingers?” he asks so close that you can feel his breath tickling your wet skin.

“Both,” you answer immediately.

“Both?” He sits up and tsks, slowly shaking his head. He stands upright and you whine, reaching for him, saying soft no’s.

“Greedy girl.” He looks down and spreads your pussy with his fingers, then readjusts your panties so they're right against your clit. “You must be so horny you could die. Being so greedy like that… Why don't you get yourself off then, baby? Show me how you play with yourself with no hands.”

He tugs your panties up slightly a couple of times, giving little pricks of pleasure to your clit. You get the hint and move your hips up slowly, getting another prick of sensation. You readjust, getting one foot up on the desk beside you so you have leverage to move. Then you start a slow rhythm, bucking upward against your panties so they grind on your clit and work you up. 

“That's it, baby,” Dazai coos lowly, petting your thigh with his free hand. After a while when your speed increases and you start whining his name, he unbuckles his belt, works open his button and fly, and pulls his dick out, giving it strokes that match the time of your grinding.

“Fuck, this is hot,” he sighs. “I could watch you get yourself off all day.”

“But I want you,” you whine. You start kneading and pawing at your boobs as well, staring right up at Dazai. “Fuck me,” you beg softly.

Dazai bites his lip but says nothing, watching you with his greedy, hungry eyes.

“Please,” you breathily beg, searching for more pressure that just doesn’t exist in your current predicament. “Please, Dazai, please. Please.”

“God, it’s so hot when you beg,” he finally says, letting go of his dick. He grabs your panties with both hands and pulls them down your legs before haphazardly throwing them over his shoulder to land somewhere else.

“I want you so bad, Dazai. Please. Please.”

“Shhh,” he coos softly, leaning down over you. His lips brush yours and he intersperses tiny kisses with tiny shushes as his fingers collect your wetness. You desperately chase his lips, but he keeps pulling away. He even has the audacity to chuckle in your face.

“Don’t worry, needy girl.” He hisses softly, and you vaguely get the impression that his arm is moving-- he must be stroking himself with your wetness. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

You nod frantically, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He asks if you’re ready, and you keep nodding and nodding and finally he slips the tip inside and you moan into his face.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans, sinking further and further into you. “Love this pussy. It’s so fucking good to me.”

“I love you,” you whine and he chuckles again as he bottoms out.

“I love you,” he mutters against your lips and kisses you properly, not teasing or withholding anymore.

And that’s when the door opens.

“What the fuck?! Dazai!” Chuuya yells, scrambling for what to say next. Dazai sighs dramatically, letting the noise turn into a groan. He stands up without pulling out of you and turns his upper body toward Chuuya.

“What do you want?” he snaps. “I’m kind of busy here.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” There’s a scuffle and some noise from the hallway, but to your surprise Chuuya calmly calls over his shoulder “Don’t worry about it-- I’ve got it under control,” and then closes and locks the door behind him. He takes his hat off and hangs it on the back of the door then turns back to you two.

“I thought you were fucking joking, you dumbass.”

“I never joke about my lady’s pleasure,” Dazai says, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“What is he talking about?” Your whole body is flushed with embarrassment and fear and now confusion. Your heart is thrumming in your chest, afraid of being yelled at or in trouble with the fucking Port Mafia, but Dazai is acting so nonchalant, and all Chuuya does is tsk.

“You didn’t even tell her? How the fuck did you get her here if you didn’t tell her?”

“Tell me what? Dazai?”

Dazai groans and turns back fully to you, grinding against you, making you gasp. “I told you that you weren’t in any danger. Chuuya knew we were coming.”

“I didn’t know. You said it like a fucking joke.”

“Dazai, tell me what--”

“I asked Chuuya if he’d let us fuck in his office if he got to join in if he caught us, and he said yes.”

“I thought you were joking!”

“Join in…?”

Dazai’s eyes lock on yours but he doesn’t say anything. Your eyes are softer than he expected and now he’s starting to realize maybe he didn’t make the right call here. Now he’ll actually have to put his money where his mouth is and let his ex-partner fuck his girlfriend.

Dazai easily regains his composure and turns to look at Chuuya again.

“Well?” he asks. “Why are you still standing there? You caught us, so come here.”

Chuuya hesitates.

“She okay with this?” he asks. “Man, I don’t even know her name.”

“That’s because you haven’t introduced yourself yet, slug. Now come here.”

“Don’t boss me around,” he grumbles as he crosses the room. Finally he’s standing over you and his eyes lock purely on yours, not straying in the slightest to any of your exposed skin.

“Sorry we weren’t properly introduced because your boyfriend’s a fucking moron. I’m Nakahara Chuuya. Are you okay with this?”

“Hi, Chuuya,” you say softly. Your face is so warm as you blush; his formality makes the situation really sink in--you’re spread out naked with your boyfriend balls deep, and Chuuya’s hardly acknowledging it. “He is kind of dumb, but I like him anyway--”

“--Heeey--”

“I’m [Y/N], and yeah, you can join us. I mean, really it’s the least we could do…”

A smirk slowly overcomes Chuuya’s face.

“Oh, yeah? Gonna pay me back for the time it’s gonna take to clean my office by letting me use your pretty little body?”

Dazai grinds against you again, and you groan softly, biting your lip.

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding at Chuuya. “We’ll make it worth your time.” You reach out for his hand, and he allows you to take it. You guide it to your tit, and he chuckles.

“Right into it, huh?” he asks, massaging it gently. Dazai finally pulls partially out of you and thrusts back in, making you gasp again. Chuuya glances down at where your cunt sucks your boyfriend’s cock in, and he clicks his tongue.

“Damn, that’s kinda hot.” He pinches your nipple between his fingers, rolling it and squeezing, drawing extra whines from you.

“Isn’t she?” Dazai asks rhetorically, rubbing one of his hands across your belly and up your side. He pulls you by your hips until your ass is partially hanging off the desk. You wrap your legs around his hips and he starts his usual starting pace, fucking into you nice and deep because of the angle he has you at.

“Chuuya,” you say softly, but the way Dazai is fucking you makes everything you say sound like a breathy moan. Both of them turn slightly red from hearing you more or less moan to Chuuya. “Chuuya, take your pants off,” you add, trying to make it clear that you were trying to say this from the beginning. Dazai’s thrusts speed up and hit harder, and he starts grunting from the effort.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, grabbing the edge of the desk for dear life. “Oh, Dazai, fuck!”

You hear the clinking of metal and turn your head to see Chuuya doing as you asked. He drops his pants, kicking them to the side after kicking his shoes off too. He unbuttons his vest and his shirt and strips until he’s only in his underwear and socks. You watch as he palms himself through his underwear, watching from a few feet away as Dazai fucks you relentlessly. Your tits jiggle, your breath shakes, your legs are trembling, and Dazai is huffing and moaning and panting above you. His head is down, his long hair hanging over his face as he watches where your cunt meets his cock--he told you once it’s one of his favorite sights, and when he gets so drunk on it like today, you believe it.

“Let me touch you,” you stumble out to Chuuya, reaching out to him again. He shuffles closer until your hand can paw at his crotch, feeling for the shape of him through cloth. He locks his hands behind his head and stands with his hips toward you, watching as you stroke him and feel him up as best you can.

“Take it off,” you huff, grabbing the elastic of his waistband. “I wanna see.”

Meanwhile, Dazai’s pace doesn’t let up. One of his hands gropes at your breasts, squeezing and almost using it as leverage to balance himself as he fucks you.

“Go on then,” Chuuya says without moving. You struggle to reach both arms over to him, but you manage to squirm away from Dazai just enough-- which he does not like-- to get your hands on Chuuya’s underwear. You pull it down a few inches and push it as much as you can until finally they drop.

His cock is a nice size-- it’s thick and when you wrap your hand around it, an inch or two and the tip are still sticking out. His pubes are thick but cleanly trimmed and with his toned, muscular body you have to admit you’re finding him really, extremely hot.

“Your hands are much softer than mine,” he grunts as you jerk him off. “Feels good.”

“She’s got an amazing mouth,” Dazai pants, finally lifting his head to watch you interact with Chuuya, though his pace never ceases. “Put on a condom and let her show you what she can do.”

“You use condoms?” Chuuya asks, glancing down at Dazai’s dick.

“No, but you will if you’re gonna put your dick anywhere near her,” he mumbles. “I don’t even like her hand on you bare.” He grimaces. “You still keep some in your desk, don’t you?”

“Old habits die hard,” Chuuya mumbles, gently touching your hand to make you let go of him. As he rounds his desk to rifle through his drawers, Dazai leans down and licks one nipple, then the other.

“I’m gonna cum in you,” he mumbles against your skin. “You’re mine. Don’t you forget that.”

“Yeah,” you moan as you agree. His fingers find his way down to your pussy, and you feel one partially slip in beside his cock, working a louder moan from you as it stretches you nicely. He pulls it out, presses in, gently stretching and filling you to the brim.

There’s a thud next to your head, and you turn to see Chuuya kneeling on the desk beside you, rolling a condom over his shaft. “Will you open that pretty mouth for me?”

You don’t even answer, you just whine and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out.

“She loves it,” Dazai says, and it comes out awfully near to a moan. “Love sucking cock, don’t you, [Y/N]?”

“Mhm,” you hum around Chuuya’s tip as he settles it on your tongue. You close your mouth around him and let him decide the pace. He goes relatively easy on you given how Dazai is still jackhammering away at your cunt, grunting and huffing though he’s far less talkative than normal.

“Yeah, look at you,” Dazai sighs blissfully. “Bet you like having two cocks, huh? Greedy girl.” His eyes are on your mouth, watching Chuuya tamely slide in and out of your mouth. He privately seethes at the way your shiny eyes stare up at Chuuya, but he’s determined to get your attention back by making you cum.

His finger, now sufficiently wet from fingering you while fucking you, slides up from your pussy to your clit. He rubs fast, wide circles over your clit. He relishes in the way your eyes widen and flicker over to him. You must have sucked in a breath and sucked harder on Chuuya, because he moans too and his hips stutter forward.

Dazai knows that you’re about to cum based on your frequent moans. He wishes he could hear them more clearly, but he also is starting to find a sick sort of pleasure in the muffled sound you make combined with the typical noises of having a cock in your mouth. Chuuya’s not too bad looking, either.

Finally it happens. You’re loud, even muffled as you are. You moan and whine, your breathing is heavy and struggles to escape through your nose, but Chuuya doesn’t retract himself to make it any easier on you. Your legs tremble, and Dazai feels proud because of it. The way your walls clench and flutter as your orgasm tears through you milks Dazai’s dick so good.

“Fuck, mm, fuck!” Dazai whimpers and drops his head, once again watching his favorite sight. He’s been fucking you so deeply, and you’ve been so exceptionally wet today, that there’s a sticky, white ring around his shaft and it only gets messier as he cums inside of you. He shoots thick ropes of white deep inside, continuing to thrust increasingly lazily as he empties his load. 

“Stop, stop,” Dazai says softly, touching Chuuya’s hips. Chuuya gives him a look but nods and backs up, finally freeing your mouth. Dazai slips out of you while leaning down to kiss you. You lick and pant into each other’s mouths, and when Dazai pulls away he slides two messy, cum-covered fingers onto your tongue.

“Taste us.”

You clean his fingers off with your mouth and try to sit up once he’s pulled his hand away and stood up himself.

Maybe it’s because of how calm and blissed out Dazai is because of his orgasm, but he lolls his head to the side and smiles lazily at Chuuya. “She’s the wettest she’s ever been,” he sighs happily. “You better get your dick wet before I change my mind. Take that stupid thing off,” he says, waving his hand at Chuuya’s condom-covered dick.

“You sure?” Chuuya asks, raising an eyebrow. He holds himself by the base, languidly stroking when his cock gives an interested twitch at what Dazai offers. Meanwhile, Dazai is helping you to your feet and peppering kisses across your face.

“Yes,” Dazai says, rolling his eyes at Chuuya, then he turns back to you. “Why don’t you take it off him, baby?”

You nod slightly and turn to Chuuya, holding your hands out toward him. He crawls to the edge of the desk beside you, observing the way your legs tremble after the pounding Dazai just gave you. You wrap your hands around him and roll the condom off, handing it to Dazai after which makes him laugh.

“Throw it away,” you mumble, then predicting what he’ll do, you quickly add on “in the trash not on the floor.”

“Yes, darling,” he coos, though it’s unmistakable how disgusted he is to be holding Chuuya’s used condom. He barely grips it with two fingers, holding it away from himself. “In the meantime, I think Chuuya should lay on the floor-- you’ll both like my idea, so just do it.”

You and Chuuya share a look as Dazai goes behind Chuuya’s desk to find a trash can, but Chuuya shrugs and gets down on the floor on his back, one arm behind his head, the other lazily stroking his cock as he looks up at you. His eyes trail down your body, from the hickeys and lovebites all over your neck and chest to your red, sore nipples all the way down to your visibly sticky wet cunt which has been slowly dribbling Dazai’s cum down your thigh.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Chuuya hisses, fisting his cock harder when he notices the cum trail.

“Isn’t she?” Dazai asks, coming back to you. He gives you a few sweet kisses, keeping his eyes cracked open to make sure Chuuya is watching. Then he takes your hands and guides you the few steps over to his former partner on the floor.

“Lay down on top of him, your back on his chest.”

“But I’m gonna--”

“You’re not gonna squish him, he’ll be fine.” Dazai holds your hands as you kneel down, straddling Chuuya’s hips backwards.

“But if you touch him you’ll nullify--”

“He’s tougher than he looks, and he already looks pretty tough-- that’s the only compliment you’re getting from me, Slug.”

Chuuya’s hands grab your waist and help you sit on his hips and then lay back so you’re against his chest.

“Not even using my ability and you’re fine, babe. Don’t worry about your weight, I don’t care.”

“‘Babe,’” Dazai quotes with an edge of bitterness in his voice. You knew he’d get a little jealous letting his former partner in the mix, but it was his idea and you’re intent on seeing it through now. You’ll never tell Dazai, but you do find Chuuya incredibly attractive and once you saw his dick today you knew you weren’t gonna be satisfied until you got your chance to cum on it.

“Babe,” Chuuya says again, helping you readjust until your head is at his shoulder and you’d be able to look at each other or even kiss if you wanted-- not that Dazai would let you.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Sluggy dearest,” Dazai says, swiping some of his cum off of your thigh and spreading it over Chuuya’s tip. “You’ll never see her again after today, so don’t go falling in love with my girl or I really will have to kill you.”

“Like you could ever do that,” Chuuya snaps back. “I’d beat you to a pulp, even without gravity manipulation.”

“Bold talk for a man with my cum on his dick,” Dazai says in an overly playful tone with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Dude, what?! You’re a freak, why did you do that?!”

“It’s gonna get on you anyway, dumbass,” Dazai says. He slides two fingers into you easily, your pussy still being open and wet and so needy for more. He collects some of his cum and your arousal, completely mixed together and unable to discern one from the other. You give a little whine at his fingers in you, and especially at them leaving you, and then Chuuya’s breath hitches and even though you can’t see, you’re pretty sure Dazai is rubbing your slick over his dick.

“Fuck,” Chuuya sighs, and you look over at his face. At first it seems like his eyes are closed, but then you realize he’s just looking at Dazai, and you look down and see Dazai smirking and giving absolute bedroom eyes at Chuuya. Your pussy clenches around nothing, another surge of arousal making you squirm.

Chuuya’s hands grip your hips, and Dazai’s eyes shift to you and he chuckles.

“What is it, baby? Use your words.”

“You’re so hot… both of you.”

“Oh, thank you,” Chuuya purrs in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“You think so?” Dazai asks, and you feel something tap against your pussy. You look down and manage to catch that Dazai’s hand is still around Chuuya’s cock, moving it now, making it touch you.

“Yeah,” you moan softly, biting your lip.

“You want Chuuya to fuck you?”

“Mhm…” you hum, nodding. Chuuya chuckles softly and lets one hand roam upward over your skin until he’s palming and kneading your breast. 

“He'll do a good job, too. Won't you Chuuya?” Dazai asks, rubbing Chuuya's dick between the folds of your cunt.

“I'm gonna fuck you so good.” He sighs at the stimulation, his hips bucking up slightly. “Better than that shitty mackerel does, I bet.”

“No chance in hell,” Dazai sneers.

“Let me show her. I'll prove it.” Chuuya bucks his hips up again, trying to get his dick to slip inside. 

“No chance--”

“--Please,” you moan, cutting Dazai off. His face changes from glaring to surprise.

“Oh? You want to find out if he’s better than me?” he asks bitterly, smacking Chuuya’s dick against your pussy.

“No, I want him to fuck me,” you whine.

“That’s not what it sounded like to me.” Dazai frowns, gloom overcoming him.

“Make her cum before I do then, jackass,” Chuuya says, largely ignoring Dazai as he plays with your tits. “Prove you’re better than me.”

“Make me cum, Dazai. Let me use Chuuya like a fuck toy.”

“God damn,” Chuuya says, bucking his hips up again. “I know that’s all I am, but fuck.”

“Yeah…” Dazai’s frown slowly turns to a smirk. “He is just a fuck toy. A big fuck toy that’s gonna fill you up with cum just how you like.” As you and Chuuya give Dazai identical confused looks, Dazai points Chuuya’s cock at your hole and guides him in. The tip drags against your inner walls so well and has you moaning and grinding down on him.

“Go, Slug. Fuck my girl.”

Chuuya’s hips immediately start thrusting up into you. He braces his feet on the floor to get a better angle and he loses himself fucking you. 

“Holy fuck you’re wet,” he huffs. “So fucking good.”

“Oh, yeah,” you moan, reaching up and around to hold the side of his head. “Oh, fuck. Chuuya.”

Dazai tries not to react to the way you moan Chuuya’s name and caress him. It’ll be over soon and he’s not about to let his jealousy take away from the incredibles view he has of your pussy being rammed by a nice, thick cock-- not that he’d ever say those words out loud for Slug to hear. 

He kneels between yours and Chuuya’s legs and runs his hands across your abdomen and belly and near your cunt, calculating how long he think the two of you are gonna last. He knows you’re already sensitive from cumming with him before, and Chuuya hasn’t cum yet at all, so maybe if Dazai gets your pussy clenching around him it’ll be over within five minutes tops.

Dazai leans down with that plan in mind and without impeding Chuuya’s thrusting, he gets his face right up to your cunt and uses the tip of his tongue to circle your clit. You whimper and buck your hips up, then push them back down to meet Chuuya. Dazai doesn’t even need to spit on you-- you’re plenty wet enough-- but he does it anyway, landing a glob right on your swollen clit. He uses the excess wetness to have his tongue gliding effortlessly in circles around your nub. Finally he gets your attention again, and you moan his name. The hand that isn’t in Chuuya’s hair slides down into Dazai’s, and he relaxes a bit now that you’re touching him.

The combination of Chuuya fucking you from behind and Dazai’s tongue now flicking relentlessly back and forth over your clit-- all the wet sounds, the smell of Chuuya’s cologne, his moaning in your ear, his hands still tweaking and playing with your incredibly over-sensitive nipples-- it’s too much. You can’t even talk; you can’t tell either one how you feel, how good they are. You can hardly moan, most of what comes out of you being only broken, stuttery noises thanks to the way Chuuya’s movements wrack your whole body and control the way even your breathing works right now.

I’m not gonna last. I’m not gonna last. I’m not gonna make it. you think, but you’re unable to warn either one of them. Chuuya must know it’s coming from the way your cunt clenches around him. He hisses and turns his head so his lips hover over your nose, moaning your name right at you.

Finally it happens when Dazai sucks on your clit and pushes a finger into your tight cunt alongside Chuuya’s cock. It’s overwhelming. There’s too much happening, too much going on from the both of them. You’re completely dumb on Chuuya’s cock, complete putty in Dazai’s hands.

You cum hard, arching your back up to let Chuuya fuck you deeper if possible. You squirt profusely, drenching Dazai’s mouth and getting a surprised chuckle from him.

“Good girl,” he praises, but you barely hear it over the way Chuuya shouts a string of swears next to your face. His hands finally leave your tits and grip your hips hard. He only thrusts a few more times before he’s cumming too, painting the inside of your cunt white for the second time. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Chuuya chants as he comes down, his movements slowing until he’s finally completely still. Dazai sits up and smiles a shit-eating grin at you.

“We made her squirt, Slug. Did you feel it?”

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans, dropping his head back and turning it away from you. “I’m not cleaning that shit up, though.”

“Did you cum inside…?” you ask quietly as Dazai starts maneuvering Chuuya’s softening dick out of you.

“He said to,” Chuuya says flippantly.

“Think about it, baby,” Dazai says. “There’s no way his shitty little swimmers will beat mine. If you get pregnant, that's gonna be my baby in there.”

“It’s only ‘cause you’re a shitty mackerel. Fish swim.”

[leftneb]

Curiositas aka sirens!AU

in which Lando is a siren with species dysphoria and Oscar is the defintion of Just Some Guy, who happens to get caught up in Lando's mess. and obviously they fall in love along the way etc etc

I first posted about this idea over 2 months ago and I'm happy to announce that there is now a fic in the works!!! which will likely take at least another 2 months because goddamn the concept outgrew itself (as you can tell by the fact charles and max also, like, exist now) it's sitting at ~8k words rn, which is by far the longest thing I've ever written in my life already, but story isn't even close to being finished, so yeah it'll take a while lmao

for now though I have some character designs and lots of thoughts, which I'd like to share :3

ramblings about their individual designs and details below the cut!!

and massive thank you to my dear partner @lailau7904 for not only holding my hand through writing the fic so far but somehow being even more insane about this whole AU than I am???

LANDO

main character (and POV holder) his design isn't based on any real fish, closest resemblance is to a fake fishing lure (reference provided)

very little scarring despite sirens' hunting culture, some tiny cuts and scratches around the top of his tail from smuggling pretty stones and shards of glass

absurdly bright green scales (I really could've made him fluorescent but I think that would be overkill) which is absurdly shit for stealth purposes but good for catching the attention of potential victims

vague triangle shape language but in a semi-elegant way

doesn't eat fish and would rather not eat human either

MAX

fills the position of a leader in his and Lando's colony, inherited the role in his late teens but grew up to it pretty quickly

shark motif, all sharp and angular shapes, visibly intimidating

lots of scars collected during hunts, wounds covered over by red scales from Charles

his scales are pretty dark but they shine blue when the light hits them just right (plus Charles' scales are a bright red lmao, which is a bit suboptimal for stealth but he thinks it's worth it)

CHARLES

koi fish motif, soft and round shapes

no scarring at all

has known Max since they were kids but actually didn't meet Lando until their 20s despite Max and Lando being childhood best friends

considered legally dead by monegasque officials (this has lore reasons which I'm not about to spoil)

GENERAL NOTES

the AU plays in a modern setting, altough sirens are very behind on human technology

their gills are on the side of their ribs! they can also all breathe with their lungs above water

funky scales patterns on their torsos around "modified" areas such as their gills and back fin

they have no hands but don't let that fool you! I was simply too lazy to draw any, what you would see if I did draw them tho would include:

webbing between fingers!! matches the colour of fins

longer, and more solid, claw-like nails

wrinkled palms and fingertips

I really wanted to make Max and Charles' torsos more life accurate but could not be arsed, they all have Lando's body type, aka I've accidentally twinkified Charles and Max lmao

by now you might have noticed that there's no design for Oscar, and as much as I really want to make a siren design for him that would have some pretty heavy lore implications so I'm... hesitant to do so

other people on my sirenification waiting list are:

George Russell and Alex Albon (for the 2019 rookies circle to be complete)

Franco Colapinto (based purely off vibes)

the whole grid really god I'm so ill

for the record Logan is a human in this AU but he IS present fuck you James Vowles

you may have also noticed the papaya version I labeled as McLaren themed (this one is also the highest quality image I have in this thread if you're gonna do any zooming in please do it on this one,,,,)

all throughout writing and drawing I couldn't help but think about another banger siren!Lando fic: Salt Skin by @strawberry-daiquiris! in which Lando has orange slash papaya scales, which I just had to draw honestly

a lot of my design process was also inspired by a piece by @dumbf1sketches (it's somewhere in the pile of other gorgeous art in that post)

bonus underwater version of all of them because it wasn't bright enough for me to feel good about it being at the top but it's still like, the main colour example to my brain

TAGLIST(S)

AU @mintraindrop @cx-boxbox (I know the og post is from actual ages ago but you two were interested so I humbly offer you these crumbs)

ART @santongkabayo @cyclonixi @alto-the-avocado @loquarocoeur

people that put up with my ramblings on dc @lyslsstuff @peppysinc @girlrussell

[ofcourseiwillmydarling]

❗I accidentally deleted the draft where I answered to the ask so I'm reposting it like this. Anyway, TYSM anon ! Means a lot to me ! I always feel like what I'm writing makes absolute no sense LOL. I hope you enjoy! 🫡🩵

a/n: Tomorrow I go back to class but we're up to a slow start, so I'll try to post as much as I can during these months ! If you guys have any other requests - about any soa character (both male and female) - dont be shy to send them, I have so much fun doing these & I looove hearing your thoughts ! ♡

! REQUESTS ARE OPEN

TW: mean !Jax & rough sex.

"Aw fuck - darlin' - what'd he do?" Your eyes are puffy and red - lashes clumping together from your tears - lips swollen from biting them. Jax makes a soft mouth sound as he sweeps his thumb over your cheekbone, rubbing slow, soft circles meant to soothe you.

"Clay," you sob. "He said I was jus' a cheap lay to you," your voice cracks and more tears fall across your pathetic, broken expression. "Jesus Christ," He hisses between clenched teeth. He's seething. "Where is he?"

You shake your head, digging your fingers into the lapels of his vest. "He left," you murmur. "Jus' leave it alone." The words hitched in your throat - blathering something incoherent.

"Baby," he urges. He can hear your heart beginning to thump - pounding too hard and too fast against your chest. "You're with me. You're okay." He rubs his cheek firmly against your own - skin sheathed in cool sweat - his nose probing your hairline.

It ends like it always does. He threads his fingers through your hair - tugging the strands gently - before he crashes his mouth against yours. "I love you."

**

He wraps his fingers around the bends of your knees - forcing them apart. He is hard between your legs; tip leaking and heavy as it presses against your belly. Fisting his cock, he sinks into you in one brutal stroke. He's meaner today. He had hurt you with his words, even when he'd slam the thick of him inside your cunt till you'd bruise, but it never mattered. You were too in love for it to ever matter. This was for him. Not you.

You don't know the specifics about his 'jobs' - he couldn't tell you - but you do know the state that he comes home in. You let him use you as he needs.

"Jackie," You mewl - brow wrinkling in discomfort - as you reach for him. You're full of him. You wonder if you could feel him if you placed your hand on your belly. You cradle the hinge of his jaw and you're blathering against the slope of his cheekbone. You hiccup and sniff - you couldn't help it - he's stretching you apart and it aches something fierce. "Quit whinin'." he bits out as he hits balls deep - cock hitting something deep and sensitive inside of you.

You meet each thrust - even though your cunt is raw - lifting your hips to take his cock again and again. "Don't stop - fuck - m'close." He rolls his hips into you - grinding his pelvic bone against against the peak of your sex - knocking a sharp cry from your kiss-swollen lips. Rough and sharp. It's aggressive and a little ugly - still, you kiss him like you're dying.

He tightens his grip on your waist as you writhe against his hold. He ducks his head - rubbing his cheek firmly against yours - as he presses deeper. He can feel you tighten up - muscles clamping down his length - and fucks you through it. "That's it," he exhales against your teeth - you feel his cock pulse inside you - hips stuttering against your own. "Fuck - I love you."

Still — he leaves. But oh - it feels just like love.

[ashwhowrites]

can you pleaseeeee write something like this but for robin? instead, it's just steve who keeps interrupting them. 💀 "damn it dingus you really need a girlfriend."

also, thank you so much for taking time out of your day to always post such amazing works for us to read 🫶

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Interuptions

Robin giggled as she dragged her girlfriend into the video store closet.

"You're on the clock, Buckley" Y/N teased, but doing nothing to stop her girlfriend's wandering hands.

"Just a few minutes, Steve will survive" Robin said, her lips kissing the sweet spot on Y/N's neck. Y/N gave in, shivering as Robin's lips moved around her neck. She stretched out her neck, giving Robin more access.

Within minutes the two were in a heated make out session. Robin had Y/N pushed against the wall, her hand under Y/N's bra. Y/N tried to quiet her moans as Robin played with her nipples.

The two jumped apart when the door swung open. Steve on the other side.

"I thought you locked it!" Y/N whispered harshly

Robin rolled her eyes and walked out of the closet, shoving Steve aside.

~~

Robin moaned as Y/N's tongue swirled around her clit. Her back arched off the bed and her hands were tangled in Y/N's hair.

Robin had no shame as she rode Y/N's tongue, whimpering and whining loudly. Robin loved when her girlfriend ate her out, she was skilled and knew how to make Robin melt into the mattress.

"Close" Robin choked out

"BUCKLEY!"

Robin panicked and threw the blanket over her girlfriend. Y/N under the blanket as she covered her mouth with her hand. She clenched her eyes shut, knowing if she kept them open she'd get lost in the sight of Robin's wet cunt. Robin pushed down her shirt and tried to look presentable.

Robin panted as Steve walked through her open bedroom door.

"Are you ready?" Steve asked, completely oblivious to Y/N hiding in between Robin's thighs.

"For?"

"I have a date and need you to be there In case I need to escape!" Steve explained. "Now hurry, gotta leave like yesterday."

Robin groaned as Steve walked out of her room. Y/N slipped out from the blanket, wiping her mouth.

"Maybe next time?" Y/N offered with a smile

~~

Steve was passed out drunk on Robin's couch, a long night of partying left him unconscious.

Robin waited until Steve began to snore before she got up. Walking as quietly as she could to her bedroom. She creeped in, Y/N was rubbing lotion on her legs. Her hair was still wet from the shower and she only wore a towel.

Robin closed the door behind her, a smirk on her face as she crawled on the bed. She pushed Y/N's wet hair to the side and pressed kisses to her naked skin.

"Smell amazing" Robin hummed, her hands easily moving down to Y/N's thighs. Y/N felt herself getting turned on as her girlfriend rubbed her thighs. Robin inched closer to Y/N's cunt. Using one finger to slide up and down her cunt, Y/N shivered and whined for more.

Robin took mercy on her and sunk two fingers inside her girlfriend. Y/N let out a low moan as Robin's fingers moved inside of her, Y/N clenched around her.

"Yeah? That feels good?" Robin cooed in Y/N's ear.

"Fuck, Rob" Y/N moaned

Robin smirked and slipped in another finger.

"Rub your clit for me, baby" Robin demanded. She picked up her pace, fucking Y/N harder as Y/N played with her clit. Y/N threw her head back as she circled her clit, her brain fuzzy as Robin's fingers hit every spot inside of her.

"I need to cum" Y/N whined, rubbing her clit as fast as she could as Robin fucked her.

"Right there!" Y/N gasped, "there fuck"

"ROBIN I NEED TO PUKE!" Steve's loud voice cut through the room. Both girls groaned with frustration as Robin removed her fingers.

Robin dropped her forehead against Y/N's shoulder.

"I'm going to kill him" Robin growled as she got up, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

~~

Y/N and Robin were tangled together in Y/N's sheets. One place they figured they could escape from Steve. Their clothes were scattered on her bedroom floor.

Robin panted as she moved her hips against Y/N's thigh. Robin's bare cunt easily move against Y/N's skin, the pressure was perfect against Robin's clit. Y/N held Robin's hips in a bruising grip.

"That's it, Roby. Ride my thigh like a good girl" Y/N teased, her lips in a smirk as Robin shuttered at the nickname. Robin smashed her hands on the headboard, right above Y/N's head.

Robin rode her thigh desperately, chasing the burning orgasm she needed for weeks. Her skin was drenched in sweat and her thighs began to shake.

Y/N's phone by her bed began to ring, but both girls ignored it. Y/N kept her focus on sucking marks on Robin's skin, and Robin could only hear her breathing pick up as she got closer to her orgasm.

The phone rang again, Y/N picked it up and slammed it down right away, ending the noise.

"Gonna" Robin choked out

"That's it, cu-"

"RINGGGG"

Robin huffed and kept her hips moving as she reached for Y/N's phone. She chucked the whole thing to the floor, yanking the cord out of the wall.

Both girls sighed with relief as no more sound distracted them. Robin thrashed on Y/N's thigh, her cum soaking Y/N's skin as Robin cried out. Robin rode out her orgasm, her hips jolting as the pleasure became painful.

Robin shivered at the sensitivity on her clit when Y/N gently pushed her off. She pushed Robin on her back and moved between her legs, Robin shuddered as Y/N's tongue flattened in between her folds, licking up all the cum that ran down Robin's cunt.

Y/N jumped as a loud bang landed on her front door, over and over. She quickly threw on a robe and walked to her window.

"It's Harrigton" Y/N laughed

"He seriously needs to get a girlfriend," Robin said as she rolled her eyes.

[binniesbooks]

• REWINDING TO TOMORROW

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 7.1k

pairings ex-boyfriend!Soobin x fem!reader (a little bit of bff!Taehyun x you)

warnings angst, a lot of crying, comfort, blowjob (m receiving), swallowing, unprotected sex (usage of condom at first tho), creampie (+ if I missed anything)

faye's note GUYS! THIS IS MY BIRTHDAY SPECIAL! 🥳 ㅋㅋ And since it's my birthday, I made something about Soobin, my lifeline! 🫡 Hope you like this one too! I'm stepping closer to the quarter life, I'm officially 21! Cheers to more years of supporting TOMORROW X TOGETHER! Btw, fuck Tumblr for being so glitchy, I had a hard time posting this because it kept on messing and realigning the pictures, wtf. 😒 The end felt rushed, please don't judge, for I, accidentally, fell asleep early last night! ㅠㅠ

You and Soobin have been dating for a while now. The relationship that bloomed from your friendship was the reason why your relationship was going well. You both also share a close-knit circle of friends who often hang out together making your bond feel even stronger.

So of all people, why are you and Soobin suffering from the heartache you were not supposed to feel in the first place?

"Y/n, are you going with us this weekend?" Chae was the one to wake you up from your thoughts. You are currently in the library for a group study for the upcoming examinations and your friends are planning to go out this weekend for dinner as a celebration.

You meekly answered a quiet yes, throwing a glance at Soobin, who is sitting six seats away from you, too focused on writing down his notes. "How about you?" Taehyun asked him as he slightly nudged him with his elbow. "I don't know. I might not be able to go." Soobin fixed his glasses without sparing a single look at the group and took a sip at the grape ade he had grown accustomed to when you two were still dating.

Despite the fact that you two broke up, your friends still tried to mediate between the two of you. Always trying to make the environment light whenever you two were present. But the hurt runs deep to the point that you both struggled to navigate your feelings in the presence of each other. Feeling the long lost love and the absence of trust you two once shared.

"I'm not going to eat if anyone from this circle is not going." Kai, the youngest, pouted. Only to receive soft chuckles and light laughs from the others.

"I'd rather hit the gym then. Besides, I've been skipping a lot nowadays." Taehyun sighed.

"Should I just play for a diamond this time?" Beomgyu muttered, pondering on whether to go or just play his favorite game at home.

"Then I should go shopping then, it's the weekend anyway," Ari exclaimed.

"Goodness! I'll pay this time! Just... just go with us, Soob." Yeonjun whined as he lightly slammed his card on the table. His action got your friends exclaiming "Oh, I'm going!" Yeonjun threw a tantrum, knowing his card was at stake. A laugh was once shared again in your circle. However, you weren't dumb, you knew that they were just trying to make the atmosphere lighter. They are trying to break the awkward tension that settled between the two of you.

"Let's wrap up and ace our exams! I'm prepared for Yeonjun Hyung to go broke." Kai cackled at the thought, receiving a neck slice from the older. While the others walked ahead with Soobin, Taehyun stayed behind for a bit to talk to you.

"I seriously don't know what happened between the two of you. You used to be sweet with each other, not like this," he helped you pack your things, your moves coming to a halt.

"Have you not heard about the rumor?" you inquired.

"Rumor? What rumor?" his brows furrowed.

"That he and..." you paused, trying your best not to break down, " He and Yunhee are back together. They've been screwing behind my back."

"Have you talked to him about that?" Taehyun's brow furrowed. You shook your head. "I did not. The moment I heard about it, I distanced myself from him."

"I suppose those are baseless rumors, y/n. I'm not siding with him but I will talk to him about that." His voice hinted with irritation about what he had just heard.

"Please don't, Tyun. I can't afford to destroy their relationship. Yunhee is Soobin's first love." Your eyes welled up with tears as you held both his hands, pleading. Scared about the thought that it might embarrass you more.

"How could I not? Am I supposed to stay put while the girl I-- no, this friend of mine is hurt?" He gently cupped your face rubbing his thumbs on your cheeks. You were not able to catch a few of the words he uttered, as you looked at him with watery eyes.

Taehyun sighed once again and pulled you closer to hug you. The tall guy let you sob on his chest. "I'm not used to this y/n. I can't see you like this." He breathed words drowning with your silent sobs.

One day before the exam, you weren't able to spot Soobin in the classroom, or the wide field of the campus. You can't help but get bothered. Soobin never skipped classes especially when it was exam week. He can't afford to miss out on important lectures. As a concerned friend- no, probably just a mere classmate at this point, you jot down important notes from the lectures that day. Planning to at least give him a copy of the lectures.

It was your exam day, only two subjects were scheduled for today, excluding the subjects Soobin missed. You brought the written notes with you, praying that Soobin would be going to school and at least take his exams.

The moment you stepped inside the classroom, you saw the familiar figure sitting near the window with a sprout in his hair. You weighed whether to give the notes to him now or later. A few of your classmates, one who happened to be his seatmate, passed by near you, and was talking about Soobin.

"He said he caught a cold yesterday, so he wasn't able to come to class." You were quietly listening to them.

"He was asking me if I have some extra notes but I wasn't able to take down notes yesterday." The guy scratched his head. You smiled a bit, you wanted to check on him knowing that he caught a cold. You told yourself to meet him after the exam today to give him the notes you wrote.

"One subject is done." You muttered, stretching your arms above your head. You glanced at Soobin sitting in the front row. You were able to catch a glimpse of his face as he looked outside the window. His pointy nose was a hue of red, he kept on sneezing. His eyelashes fanning beautifully. Eyes with a glint of sadness, you can't tell why. He fixed his earphones as he closed his eyes, chin laying peacefully on his palm, feeling the cool breeze of the wind from the open window.

Your exams for today are done. You clutched the notebook where you compiled the notes you were supposed to give him. As you got up from your seat you saw Soobin down the other end. You stiffened, pondering whether you had the courage to talk to him and check on him after his absence. You wanted to ask if he totally recovered from the cold he caught, an obvious question, you heard him sneeze many times. When he passed by in front of you, you wanted to give him the notes, "Soob-", you were cut from what you were supposed to say.

"Thanks for the notes, I'll give it back tomorrow." He said. To your dismay, it wasn't you who he was talking to, it was the other guy behind you.

You smiled bitterly as you crumpled the notes. Of course, he won't pay attention to you, he's dating Yun Hee now, wasn't he? Besides, what business does he have to do with you anymore? You walked outside the classroom with heavy footsteps The extra notes were long discarded in the bin near the door.

You felt arms wrapping around your neck, causing you to almost fall. "How's the exam?" It was Beomgyu. "Move your hand. She almost fell." Taehyun spoke with an annoyed tone.

"You are so stingy, even these past few days." Beomgyu rolled his eyes, referring to Taehyun. Taehyun took your bag over your slumped shoulders, carrying it instead.

"Math is hard." you only exclaimed, mouthing a quiet 'thank you' and a smile to Taehyun, to which he responded by ruffling your hair.

"I know you still did well." Beomgyu gently pinched your cheeks.

The two males walked with you side by side to the bus stop. They kept on spitting jokes, bickering with each other, and teasing you. But neither of the two spoke about you and Soobin. They know it themselves how it got awkward whenever the topic is all about you and your past relationship.

You and Taehyun got inside the bus waving goodbye to Beomgyu who was currently making faces outside. Beomgyu lives near the school while Taehyun and you, along with Soobin were neighbors, 4 stops away from the campus. It was time-consuming traveling back and forth, but you were used to it now. You were just thankful that Soobin takes another route, a longer one when he goes to school and when he goes home, leaving you and Taehyun to travel by yourselves. Maybe Yunhee told Soobin to do so, or maybe he walked Yunhee home first. It doesn't matter, besides, you two are already over.

"Tyun." You call out to your friend as you scoot over the side of the seat giving him space to sit down on. He gladly sat down, placing both of your bags in his lap.

"Did you two talk already?" He inquired, glancing at his phone to check the time. You just shook your head. "You?" You simply replied. He places his hand above yours on your lap as he closes his eyes while leaning his crown on the headrest of the bus seat. "I don't want to hurt you. You asked me not to talk to him about it, so I did not." He bit the inside of his cheek, words coming out unintentionally. He wants to be careful with his words but they keep on slipping out as if betraying him. He wants to come clean. He does not want to be selfish, he thinks to himself. But Taehyun has been the most caring friend ever. His tender touches whenever you cry when you were kids are so special to you. Maybe you are dumb, but Taehyun has always been your shoulder to cry on. Your best of best friends. The most sympathetic person you ever met.

"I... I tried to talk to him earlier though." You stare at his hands on yours. "But I was ignored, he was talking to one of our classmates." You added.

"Do you want to drop by our ice cream shop?" He asked changing the subject as he let go of your hand, your stop being announced on the bus speaker. "Your treat?" You giddily asked. "It's on the house." He smiled back at you.

Taehyun's big sister owns an ice cream store down the street where you live. Your favorite spot with the two of them, Soobin and Taehyun, is the ice cream shop. And when you three just wanted a breath of fresh air, you often hung out at the mini park mid-way. Just in the middle of your house and the shop.

You got off the bus, with Taehyun still holding your backpack. You are used to it anyway, whoever was with you does it without a second thought. It may be your ex-boyfriend, Soobin, your childhood friend, Taehyun, your seniors, Beomgyu and Yeonjun, or your junior slash smaller brother-like, Heuningkai. Nevertheless, they also do this to Chae and Ari.

As you two were enjoying your ice creams while having some chit-chat about your exams, Taehyun suddenly stopped talking, staring out the glass window pane. "Is something wrong?" Your brows furrowed as you looked at the window behind you, and met with nothing but kids running. "Nothing." His sharky smile comes back as he looks at you again. "What were you saying again?" He added. You continued talking again as he glanced one more at the window, looking at Soobin who was currently talking to a girl. Her waist-length hair flowed with the air, it was Yunhee, at the very corner of the street just behind the big tree. Maybe the rumors were true.

Two more days passed and exam week was done. Students are gathered in different restaurants to celebrate, for their graduating seniors, for their top 1 classmate, their aced exams, or for just barely surviving the exam. One of the restaurants has their reservation, named after one of your seniors, Choi Yeonjun. Your circle comes one by one, choosing their desired seats. Leaving two seats beside Taehyun.

Soobin came up a bit late, the shoulder and hood of his jacket wet with the drizzling rain outside. You wanted to trade seats with Taehyun because you were afraid and nervous about the thought that Soobin was sitting beside you. But Taehyun was preoccupied with Beomgyu's non-stop talking. His sharky teeth show as he laughs. You end up sitting between the two males.

A few rounds of drinks and some of you are flushed red. Some are barely able to open their eyes. A few more students joined your table as the atmosphere became louder and rowdy. Final exams were done anyway, being wasted shouldn't be their problem right now. You flinched at the scraping sound of the chair beside you. Soobin excused himself saying he wanted to get some fresh air. He still can hold his liquor, you mumbled to yourself. It wasn't that long before the crowd got bigger so you excused yourself too. And maybe it was also just your alibi to look for Soobin.

You looked for him outside, and even the dark alley on the side. You were stunned at what you saw right in front of your eyes. The tall shadow of a big man, most likely kissing a waist-length-haired woman, according to the silhouettes. It was all too familiar. You don't need more shreds of evidence. The rumors aren't baseless at all. You covered your mouth until you felt a hand cover your eyes as well. You were pulled back to the bright corner of the alley as you felt big and warm hands wrap around you.

It was Taehyun. It was him again. It was he who accepted you in his warm embrace. The guy who lets you sob on his chest for as long as you want. He gently rubbed your back as you wept on his chest, hushing you. "Please don't cry. it's hurting me." The latter words were inaudible. He cups your face as he looks at you with pity. He tried to dry your tears with his thumbs only to be wet again as your tears flowed down.

"I-it wasn't b-baseless a-at all, Tyun." You sniffled. "It's all true. I-it's all fucking true!" Taehyun did not want to believe it. He did not want to think about Soobin like that, but what you both saw gave him everything he needed to know.

"I'm taking you home." He declared. "Wait for me at the entrance, I'll just grab our things." He held your hand as you walked with him by the entrance. "Give me a minute, don't go anywhere." Taehyun took you home that night, giving you the comfort you needed the most. "I'll crash at your place." He uttered as he engulfed you once again with the warmest embrace he loves to give.

Soobin stared at the two empty seats beside his when he got back inside. "Where are they?" he asked Chae, referring to the two people who were sitting beside him. "They've gone home, I think." the girl answered.

The session ended after a few moments, the two girls carrying Kai on their shoulders. "We're taking this baby with us" the two girls referred to the tipsy and all-smiling junior.

Classes can be skipped after finals. Making you the most grateful person to the heavens above as you chose not to go to school. Taehyun stayed beside you, always checking on you, going home sometimes only to go back again to your place because he couldn't stay put at all. Knowing how you bawled out your eyes that night last week until you fell asleep.

As you are in the comfort of your own house, you can't help but pity your friend who's currently cooking for you. "Am I giving you too much headache? I feel like a burden to you," you whispered as you lay your chin on the kitchen island, arms splayed out, as you stared at him. He walked closer to you and ruffled your hair. "You never did and you are not. If anything, I'm more than glad to do this for you," Taehyun explained.

One week. Taehyun has been taking care of you for a week now. Today was supposed to be you and Soobin's 3rd anniversary, but here you are with Taehyun, out in the streets, drinking your hearts out on some street carts. He's silent, unlike you who kept on blabbering and kept on drinking. He's taking little to no shots, he can't afford to get wasted when he still has the responsibility to take you home and take care of you.

"Y/n, that's enough now, you've drunk enough," he said as he stopped your hand from taking another shot. You clicked your tongue and glared at him, "Don't tell me to stop when you don't know what I'm feeling." No, Taehyun did. Taehyun knows. He knows more than anyone else. How can he not? "We're going home." Taehyun paid your drinks without paying attention to your whines and complaints.

You crashed at his house since it was a bit closer than yours. Plus he is already tired and tipsy, it's not a joke to carry around a wasted woman out from the street, no? However, you haven't stopped complaining, not even a little bit, even when your words are already slurred. He slumped you on the couch, arms sore for keeping you in balance. "I'll grab some towels and fresh clothes to clean you up."

You closed your eyes, feeling the sleepiness take over you. You jolted awake when you felt a cold towel touching your face and neck. "S-soob, what a-are you d-doing here?" You forced yourself to sit up, your eyes looming to burst into tears. "Hey--" you grabbed his face and kissed him. "I m-missed you, I missed you s-so much," you sobbed. You held his face once again, pressing the kiss you longed for.

"We.. we shouldn't..." he whispered, as he held your face and pinned you on the couch. Maybe it was revenge for what Soobin did, or maybe it was the liquor, but Taehyun did not care at all, he wanted to give in. He's slowly giving in.

"Hng-" Your small whines and whimpers drive him up the wall. The kiss gets deeper, hungrier, sloppier. Taehyun's mind is nowhere in the room anymore. He's going nuts, he can no longer control himself. With the pent-up frustration of watching you being tormented, he cannot wrap his head around this matter anymore. The longing feeling he wanted to show, the tender touch he wants to make you feel. He pulled away for a bit, causing you to pull him towards your neck. Who was he to decline, even if you mistook him for someone, it wouldn't hurt, right? He planted delicate kisses on your neck down to your collarbone. You moaned at his action. He snapped back to reality as he pulled away again, panting, lips swollen from the occasional biting. You looked up at his big and trembling figure.

"Y-you should sleep... Please..." he stutters as he covers your eyes with his hand planting a soft kiss on your tender lips one last time. "Good night," he whispered once more.

You drifted to sleep, nothing registering in your mind. He quickly stands up to his feet and scurries away to the bathroom, flushing his face with cold water. He sets down both of his palms on the sink, staring at his blown eyes. Hands coming up, caressing his lips. "Fuck you," he whispered. "Fuck you Taehyun!" He screamed at his reflection as he punched the mirror. "You've gone overboard, that's not something you should do. Fuck you, you idiot..." he scolded himself, teardrops escaping from his eyes.

The next morning, you woke up from the smell of the toast and the sound of a sizzling pan. You grunted as you tried to walk to the kitchen, still in a groggy state. "Taehyun?" you roamed your eyes around the house once, no Soobin to be seen in the room, nor his presence to be felt. You were about to ask Taehyun but we're distracted by the doorbell.

Three people came crashing into Taehyun's house, Kai, Beomgyu and Yeonjun. All of them carrying plastic bags with, what you think, is full of chips and different snacks. "Movie day!" Kai screamed who got a neck slice from the oldest. "You're quite noisy in the morning," he grunted, Kai then faked cries, emitting a laugh from all of you.

"I called them over," Taehyun announced as he placed the plates on the table. "But just the three of them came, the others are busy I guess," he added. "What happened to your hand?" You asked as you pulled a chair, the other three sitting on the other side of the table. Taehyun sat beside you, "I knocked a cup earlier," he simply replied.

The day rolled over like nothing with the five of you busying yourselves with watching movies, bickering with each other, eating and of course playing.

The following week, you were all called to the school campus for the preparation of the graduating students. You need to fix and clean up the whole campus so your attendance is a must.

You groaned while dragging two trash bags full of garbage. You sighed as you came to a stop, stomping at why no one was helping you with this. You were just a corner away from the garbage school pit when you hear voices from the other side. You peeked from the bushes. You saw how Soobin shoved Yunhee's shoulder.

"Hey! You shouldn't be treating your girlfriend like that!" you shouted, brows furrowed. You don't like Yunhee and her guts but this is not something Soobin should do to a girl especially if he's dating her.

"This is what I'm talking about!" Soobin raised his voice over Yunhee as you walked over between them. "What are you saying? Are you nuts?! How can you stomach the fact that you are hurting your girlfriend right now?! Physically, at that!" you retorted.

"Move, y/n," he said with a firm voice.

"I'm not moving! Unless you stop shoving her! You are hurting your girlfriend, you dumbass!"

"Shut up! She's not my girlfriend!" It was the first time. The first time Soobin raised his voice over you. "Now move."

"W-what are you talking about?"

"Did you not hear me well? I said she's not my girlfriend."

You turn to Yunhee, she looks down on her feet, fidgeting with his fingers.

"She was just spreading baseless rumors. Rumors that made you break up with me, isn't that it? That you didn't even let me explain myself to you. You just left me. You left me without hearing my side, y/n," his pouring anger is making him frustrated, huffing, chest thumping loudly.

You looked at Yunhee once more and she slowly backed down, running away.

"Baseless rumors you say?" you scoffed. He looked at you with a confused look. "Baseless, I see..." You pushed your hair back, you were also about to burst. "Baseless when I saw you screwing her that night after the exam in the dark alley."

His mouth hung open, "What are you saying?" he couldn't believe what he just heard. "I was talking to my mother that night when I got out of the restaurant. And I am sure, I wasn't even at the alley."

"W-what?"

"What do you mean what? How am I supposed to do something like that when you occupy my mind all the damn time!"

"H-how... How is that possible? I literally saw your tall figure, and I was sure about Yunhee's hair length." You mumbled.

"Ah, right!" As if there was a light bulb that sparked above his head, "It was Kai."

"Kai?"

"Yes, Kai."

You were equally confused by what he said, what does he mean Kai?

"What you saw was Kai, not me." He started. "Can't you remember? That night, we were both wearing the campus jacket. People often mistook the both of us for each other, especially with our height."

"Y-you mean, it wasn't really y-you?"

"I fucking swear y/n, it wasn't me!"

You slumped your shoulders as you leaned on the wall, dumbfounded by the newfound information. Truthfully, all you just saw were mere silhouettes, not their face. How did you even come up with the idea that it was Soobin?

"Kai told me himself. He and Yunhee's younger sister was a thing," he said as he ran his hand on his face. "Yunhee was my girlfriend. Knowing about Kai and her younger sister, she came up with the idea of spreading rumors saying we're back together." He explained one again.

"S-soob, I didn't know."

"Because you did not let me explain my s-side," his voice cracked. "You just cut me off, and blocked me." His voice is low and tears are about to fall from his eyes.

"So many times, I wanted to approach you," you saw the hurt inside his eyes. "But I always see you with the guys, especially Taehyun. Knowing the two of you grew up together, I know you told him about us." he wipes his tears, you can't bring yourself to wipe them.

"I was so scared... Scared that what if he took you from me? What if we won't be back together?" You felt the pang in your chest and the twist in your stomach. "That's why I distanced myself. From our friends, from Taehyun... From you, y/n," his tears are freely flowing from his cheeks. You quickly wiped them away as you cupped his face staring at his eyes with guilt.

"I even saw you..." he paused, choking on words, "with Taehyun. At the ice cream shop down our street. The time when I tried to talk to Yunhee about this issue." He closed his eyes as he felt the pain in his heavy heart. "I know Taehyun saw me, our gaze met."

"Soobin.." you pulled him in for a hug, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"I was s-so scared. I can't talk to you because I w-was so scared. I'm not s-supposed to ignore you. B-but I can't bring m-myself to t-talk to you." He explained between sobs and hiccups. Guilt ate at you that very moment, how can you just ignore him and believe all the rumors without talking to him and hearing him?

You cupped his face am you pulled him in for an apologetic kiss. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry for not letting you explain. For shutting you out." He pressed his forehead to yours as he mumbled a soft sorry. "Sorry, for being a coward. Sorry for not cleaning this mess up as early as possible." He hugged you tighter.

That afternoon, your group of friends felt the easy atmosphere while having the snack at the cafeteria. They don't know what's up this time but everything just feels light and good. No one dared to talk about the atmosphere but everyone was relieved to their core.

"We'll go first, senior's duty. See you later again." Yeonjun announced.

"We'll go with you." The two girls chimed.

"I'll get going, still have something to do." Soobin excused himself as well. "Hyung wait up, I'll tag along!" The youngest trotted away, leaving the three of you in the cafeteria.

"What should we do now?" You asked the two as you tapped your fingers on the table. "I want to sleep, let's go to the infirmary." You and Taehyun followed Beomgyu to the school infirmary.

Taehyun sat at the window, hands inside his pocket. "What's gotten into you?" You asked him. He glanced at Beomgyu fast asleep before he looked down at his shoes. "Have you two made up? I mean, Soobin." He looked up at you, voice tinged with disappointment that an oblivious heart wouldn't notice. You nodded. "Everything was a simple miscommunication." You replied to him as you fidget with your fingers. "Oh, I see." "Yunhee was the one responsible for spreading the rumors, and that night... It wasn't Soobin. It was Kai." He almost scoffed at what you've said.

"Can you remember anything that happened after that night? He asked, hoping for a specific answer. " Nothing. Just you, taking care of me and being my shoulder to cry on." He faked a smile, "I'll just stay at the rooftop for a while."

"Is there something wrong?" You asked him, standing up from the bed you are seated on.

"None. Just want to clear my mind, I'm tired." He said as he walked out of the room.

Down the hallway, he saw Soobin carrying some boxes along with his classmates. He purposely bumped into his careful. "You should be careful. Hyung." He talked without looking back at Soobin, emphasizing every word. The latter merely confused with questions like 'What's his problem' thrown to him by his classmates.

Taehyun's words have a deeper meaning supposedly. He doesn't know how to act right. He's not like this. He used to be a calm and collected guy. He slumped down with his back on the rooftop door, whispering curses as tears flowed down his cheeks once again.

In the following days, you didn't see Taehyun anywhere. He's not home either whenever you went to visit him, or so you thought. He got distant from you. However, you did not pay it much mind. You think, maybe he was just busy.

You opened your door at the knock, welcoming Soobin inside. "You ready?" His smile is back once again, the bunny-like smile you loved seeing. His smile shined brighter than the sun outside. You intertwined your hands with him. You two were supposed to be on your first date, as a couple that got back together.

Soobin is always careful when planning for dates. Making sure to do and follow things according to plan. He makes sure that everything is aligned with what should be done at that certain time. From playing in the arcade to buying groceries, eating lunch, watching movies, going shopping and watching the sunset by the bay. He knows you love these types of dates. In order to earn back your trust, he made sure everything was alright.

"I enjoyed today. Thank you Soobin." You said as you opened the front door.

"I'm glad you did because I did too. Especially when you almost fell skating." He chuckled.

"Hey, that's not funny!" You frowned, plopping the grocery and shopping bags on your coffee table.

"Come here." Soobin motioned you to sit beside him after piling up the bags he was carrying along with yours.

"I'm really sorry, Soobin, I should've at least listened to you. It was my fault." He pulled you into a hug, gently caressing the back of your head with his huge hand. "Don't sweat it anymore, y/n. Besides, we're good now, aren't we?" He cupped your face. "I just hope miscommunication never happens again." He added. "Promise?" You showed your pinky finger, "Promise," he answered with a smile as he intertwined it with his.

He held your face once again as he pressed the softest kiss. Things escalated quickly, you can't deny that. Because your dress that you carefully picked this morning, was being taken off of you. The searing kiss you're sharing is making the both of you go nuts.

He pulled you on his lap, sliding the straps of your dress down your smooth shoulder.

"Fuck, love," the pet name he used even before rolled off his tongue casually, but hearing it again just now gives you goosebumps. He controls your waist as he lets you grind above him while you are straddling him. "Please, y/n keep going," he looks at you with pleading eyes.

You halt, earning a groan from him, bulge twitching beneath you. "Let's go to my room," eyes filled with love and longing. He carried you to your room, placing you down on the edge of the bed as he touched your lower lip. You looked up at his tall figure towering over you. You reached out your arms above you to his chest, unbuttoning his dress shirt, uncovering the hidden defined abs of your boyfriend. You slowly unbuckled his belt, pants pooling down to his feet. His mind flew somewhere, head reeling.

"W-what are you trying to do?" you chuckled at his obvious question. "Making amends," you shrugged.

He has nothing to hold on to aside from your shoulder as you palm him in his boxers. The soft gasps and groans he tried to muffle, came out hotter than you thought. You hooked your finger on the waistband of his boxers, his breathing hitched at the hot puffs to his exposed length that came from your mouth. He brushed your lips with his thumb once more, biting his own lip.

You give him a few kitten licks as you look up, practically making him hold his breath in with the sight in front of him. Your tiny hand wrapped around his hot and girthy cock, stroking him and prodding your tongue on his slit. Soobin hissed through his teeth as he closed his eyes at the sensation. This is not a normal way of apologizing but he is loving this.

You swirled your tongue on the head of his shaft resulting in him thrusting his hips forward. He muttered half-assed sorry with his mind flying around. You pressed your thumb on his tip, emitting a guttural moan from Soobin. It takes everything for him to keep himself steady.

"Y/n, love, please, n-no teasing," his voice hinted with urgency, "I-i thought you were s-supposed to m-make amends, n-not to t-torture me," he added.

"Okay then, whatever you say," you chimed.

"As much as I l-love the w-way you ap..apologize, I can't s-s-fuck!" you caught him off guard when you hollowed your cheek to suck his cock, the tip kissing your throat.

He was trembling, and his legs felt like jelly at the sensation, he wanted to pull back but his body was betraying him with how he slowly thrusts in your mouth. Your moans caused shivers to go down his spine and his needy eyes grew stronger.

"Y/n... Y/n.. fuck.. ohh," he was going out of his mind, the knot in his stomach about to burst as you taste the sweet and salty taste of his pre-cum. You once again looked up at him as he gently held your face, thrusting a bit stronger chasing his high. You gripped his legs to ground yourself.

"Mmnn! Fuck!" white spurts of cum painting your hot mouth and tongue, his legs and hips spasming. You showed him your cum-filled tongue before you swallowed it, licking the sides of your lips. "Pretty.. fucking hot," he commented as he swipes his fingers on your lips, checking if you were hurt.

He was about to go down on you when you stopped him, "You don't want me to?" he asked, confusion written on his face. "Do it next time. I-i want you inside me n-now," you shyly whispered, scooting over to the spacious bed. You felt the bed dip when Soobin climbed up as he removed his unbuttoned shirt. He kissed your shoulder, swiftly unzipping your dress with so much ease, throwing it away. "Condoms?" he pulled away, "Drawer, to the left," you replied.

He clumsily pulled the drawers, knocking other bottles as he grabbed the condoms out. "Let me do it," he smiled at your initiative, chuckling at how you fumbled to open the packaging. You wrapped it around his shaft in a slow sensual manner, making him curse from his post-nut sensitivity.

He lays you down carefully, littering your chest with a sloppy kiss, leaving you with splotchy red marks all over your neck and shoulder. "Tell me if it's too much," he strokes your hair, leaving a sweet tender kiss on your forehead, to which you simply nod.

"Should I tease you too?" he smirked at the thought forming in his mind, you pouted and whined a needy no to his face. But he did otherwise, gently tapping his heavy cock on your wet cunt, collecting your slick that's been dripping for a while now.

He started thrusting with only the tip of his cock while his face has a smirk plastered on his plump lips. "It won't fit," he lied. "P-please Soobin, I need y-you," your voice coming out with so much need. "Yeah? Is that right?" he kept on teasing you as you tried to lift your hips and fuck yourself on him. "How am I supposed to handle your oh-so-needy attitude," he chuckled, as you are slowly turning red from embarrassment. But you know he'll give in in no time, "S-soob please, I'm a-aching d-down there," you tried to reach for your clit to give it some friction only for your hands to be pinned by Soobin above your head. "Not so fast, darling, I thought you wanted to apologize?" His eyes speak volumes of lust, though. His eyes tell you he wanted to ruin you at this very moment, to fuck your brains out. "I'm really s--sorry Soobin, l-love, please let me h-hold you," he lets go of your hands to hide on your neck as he slowly entered your wet cunt.

You yelped at the sensation, he was big enough to give you a good stretch, and you clawed his back at how good you felt. You are sure that your scratch marks would last for days, he knows it too when he winced at the pain, but he loves the thought of it. Neither of you cared about it, all you wanted to last is the pleasure you are both feeling.

He stilled inside you, "Think you can do it? Can I move now?" He kissed your teary eyes. "I-i can take y-you," his ears rang at your words, and you felt his cock twitch inside you. "A-are you turned on by that, Soobin?" you wanted to make sure. "Mmm, you're so little compared to me, yet you're saying such a thing," he squeaked out, "What a brave little girl."

He started by thrusting slowly, elbows propped on both sides, hands continuously caressing your cheek as he occasionally pressed lingering kisses on your face.

"Fucking tight," he grinned, "stop c-clenching, I won't last long w-with that," his hips stuttered a few times.

"I-i can't, you f-feel so g-good, Soob, s-so... So b-big," you grab one of his arms to make him feel the bulge on your stomach. "Here. Ahh.. you are reaching h-here, ohh fuck, feels... Agh..." he smiled at how you can't form coherent words, his cock twitching inside, thrusting harder with a goal in his mind, to poke a bigger bulge on your stomach.

You clenched again, for the second time around, about to cream his cock. "I-i'm close," he stopped thrusting and rubbed slow circular motion on your clit, you thrashed around, complaining and wailing. "S-soobin, no, love, please. Ngh! Ahh! I want to c-cum!" A tear dropped from your eyes as Soobin cooed at you, "You wanted it so much, sweetie?" he grinned and you nodded eagerly. He pulled out of you all the way, and you cried at the empty feeling, "Fuck yourself on me then," he ordered as he lays down and let you climb up above him.

You weren't happy at how he was edging you, so you pulled his condoms out, sinking yourself on his cock in one go, Soobin was stunned as he cursed loudly along with your soured face from the stretch, "B-baby, this is w-wrong," he was so nervous at what can happen. "I'll let you p-pull out," you simply replied as he nodded back at you absentmindedly, because how is he supposed to pull out when you are on top of him?

You started fucking yourself on him, as you placed your hands on his hard chest. "Shit, I can feel you so r-raw," he cursed multiple times at the dragging feeling.

The familiar knot in your stomach is about to snap when he angled you hitting the best spot. Soobin saw how your expression was gone from soft to a fucked out one. You did not say anything, afraid that he might edge you again, so you just continued moving until your legs trembled. White ring pooling on the base of his cock as you creamed his shaft. "F-fuck Soob... Ahh." The soft moans seemed like they were coming straight out of porn as he helped you ride your high. And that's when you decided to overstimulate yourself to make him cum again.

"Angel, d-don't.. shit, w-what are you d-doing!" He can no longer grip your waist, his hands felt weak nearing his high. His mouth hung open, head buried back on the pillow with his hand clasped on his mouth.

You felt his hips stutter, along with the spasming of his legs as he gripped at the bed sheet, knuckles white.

You crashed down on his chest and you let him thrust more into you slowly as he hugged you tight. "A-apology.. apology accepted." He muttered lowly. You planted a visible love bite on his neck, emitting a groan from his hoarse voice. "Y/n.. no more..." He's straight out tired, whining, yet loving the feeling of how your tongue dances on his neck. "No more? But you're still thrusting." You popped the bubble above his head, chuckling at how he bit his lip with red cheeks.

He slowly pulled out and you both winced and hissed at the sensation, your mixed cum flowing out of your cunt. Too tired to clean yourself up, Soobin just grabbed his boxers and pants to put them back on and covered you with his dress shirt, you didn't even know when you fell asleep.

You woke up with an arm wrapped around your waist, the steady rhythm of a heartbeat, and the quiet puffs of breath. You squirmed slowly to get off the bed without waking Soobin up as you headed straight to his bathroom, washing your face and cleaning yourself. You rummaged through his cabinet, finding some proper clothes to wear. You pulled on his black t-shirt and put it on without anything beneath, going back to the bed to be engulfed in a warm embrace.

You stared at his peaceful sleeping face as you thought to yourself, "Miscommunication isn't a good thing, we need to work on this, or else we might end up separating completely." You kiss his cheek as you get back to sleep again.

@binniesbooks 2024

[dpspcehntr]

XAVIER: An Introduction

Pairing: Xavier x Reader

Zayne | Sylus | Rafayel

Word Count: 0.5K

Warnings: wet dreams, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving)

Welcome to part 4 of this series! This series is me introducing you all to how I write for them. Requests are open and feel free to leave a comment cause I love them and read them. It also keeps me motivated!

A/N: I had way too much fun writing this one. I kinda put some of my own fantasies in this one so it was really fun to write. I wanted to post him first originally but I am glad I waited! This idea came to me when I finished my Halloween asks. Anyway! Enjoy!

"I had a dream about you last night but I'm too embarrassed to tell you what happened."

You snuggle into his chest while a movie plays on low volume. His arm was snug around you tracing circles on your back.

"No fair! I tell you all my dreams, especially the ones about you!"

You pout and squeeze his waist a little tighter. He clears his throat and grabs your arm. He lightly pushes you off his chest so you can look him in the eyes. His face was a bright shade of pink and he couldn't look you in the eyes.

"Oh it was that kinda dream. Well now I'm more curious."

You lean into him, inches away from his face. Your breath hot on his face as he blushes deeper.

"I want to recreate it."

He finally lifts his eyes to yours, his breath coming out in pants. It must've been some kind of dream for him to be so worked up.

"Y-you were standing over me and ah- uh you were r-rubbing yourself right in my face. I-I was jacking off and you licked my cum of-off my chest."

You at him in his ruined state, already getting hard, lost in the recollection of his dream. You slide off the couch and stand in front of him. You slowly slip off your shorts and underwear. His eyes growing more and more desperate as you revealed yourself to him. You kneel on the couch.

"Like this?"

You stretch your leg over to the arm of the couch, positioning yourself right in front of this face. You slowly start to rub your clit as a whimper leaves his lips.

"Yea just like that."

He quickly rids himself of his shirt, reaches in his pants and pulls himself out. He grips himself in his hands and slowly begins to pump himself in time with you. With your other hand you slide your shirt over your breasts and roll your nipple in between your fingers. You toss your head back with a wail and increase your speed. He follows suit pumping himself faster. Here you are locked in pleasure with each other lost in thought of the other. You slip a finger inside of yourself nearly buckled over in pleasure as he whimpers your name over and over.

"Xavier, I'm close."

"M-me too."

You pump your fingers harder into you, your orgasm teetering right on the edge. You feel his face inch closer to you, his breath hitting your clit. His tongue licks a stripe from your clit to your opening and you clench down on your fingers. You groan out as you gush over your fingers and his face. Feeling you cum over his face he blows his load over his stomach with a whimper. You collapse on the couch next to him and catch your breath. You look over at him, pupils blown, his lower lip swollen from biting it. You lean over and hover right over his stomach.

"Like this?"

You stick your tongue out and lap up the cum on his skin with a hum. He tasted sweet and you made sure to clean up every drop.

"Fuck. Yea just like that."

You sit up and pull his face in for a kiss, letting him lick the inside of your mouth and you moan. He pushes you back onto the couch and hovers over you. He kisses down your body, ready for round two.

[floralcyanide]

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day four ⛧ orgasm control

Stu Macher x Reader

You take it upon yourself to get off without Stu's permission, and he punishes you.

warnings: pwp, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, orgasm control, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, withheld orgasm

word count: 697

author's note: welcome to day fourrrrr (: I missed writing for Stu omg it's been a longgg time. I don't think I've written for him in 2 years. if I'm a little rusty with his character I apologize but I do hope everyone enjoys (: thanks for any feedback!!

kinktober masterpost | kinktober taglist form | main masterlist | main taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

“Oh, you wanna cum? That’s too bad,” Stu mockingly pouts, a gentle hand mussing through your hair in contrast with the harsh snapping of his hips into yours. 

He grips the hair he has between his fingers, pulling your head to the side to allow his mouth to latch onto your neck underneath your ear. His other hand is freely working on your clit- your arousal spreads along it in a perfect amount to coerce a sickening sound as Stu’s fingers pick up speed. You whimper pitifully as the mixture of Stu’s hand, and his hard cock rubbing against your bundle of nerves with every thrust causes your body to vibrate. You oh so badly want to cum around his cock over and over until you’re absolutely spent- but Stu won’t allow it. You’re being punished, and not getting your release is your punishment. 

“Should’ve waited for me to come home like the good kitten you know you are,” Stu growls in your ear, feeling your walls begin to clench around him.

He quickly pulls out of you and removes his fingers from your puffy clit, his hands completely off you. You move to squeeze your legs together, but Stu forces them apart to ogle at your throbbing, sensitive pussy and how it convulses from lack of touch. Stu repositions himself onto his chest, his face buried between your thighs as his fingers grasp the shaking flesh there. He gives your clit a tentative lick and slips two fingers inside your heat, curling them immediately. Your spine curves upward, your body reacting to the sudden stimulation. Your hand grips Stu’s wrist like a vice, and you start to cry as his fingers curl and fuck into you.

“Please let me cum, baby, I won’t touch myself without you again, I swear-”

“Too late for that, I’m afraid,” Stu tuts, nipping your clit with his teeth with an insatiable grin. 

Adding a third finger, Stu gains a steady pace of circling your exposed pussy with his warm tongue and long fingers, bringing you to the edge of orgasm three more times. At this point, you’re nearly sobbing, incoherent words falling from your lips as your hips stutter messily. “Please, please, please.” has become a mantra.

“Does this sweet kitten wanna cum? Hmm?” Stu purrs into your thigh, and you nod vigorously, “Be careful what you wish for.”

Stu removes himself from you, flipping you onto your stomach and pulling your hips into the air, slamming his length inside you. He hits your spot perfectly, causing your body to start quaking in pleasure.

“Let go, baby. And don’t stop until I say so,” Stu growls in your ear, his hands spreading your ass apart to get a better view of you from behind.

Stu curves his cock into your cervix, sending your core reeling and your orgasm washing over you at last. It’s so strong that it sends you into another orgasm seconds after as Stu slaps your clit harshly. He’s relentless when it comes to rubbing you- he knows just how to do it right without it hurting or feeling useless. So he continues to press circles into your clit with his deft fingertips until you cum again and again around his length. 

“Don’t stop cumming until I say so,” Stu groans, his cock rehardening from your desperate clenching around him as he begins pushing into you again.

Your body trembles as Stu fucks you again, your overstimulated cunt hot and wet around him. He wraps a hand around your throat, your pitiful moans vibrating against his palm. You weakly buck your hips against his, “Just like that, one last time,” he praises.

Stu moans hotly into your ear as he releases, and you cum again before nearly blacking out, feeling limp underneath Stu’s grip.

“You good, baby?” Stu asks as you sink down underneath him into the mattress.

You nod tiredly, and he gently pulls out of you, rubbing a hand down your back soothingly.

“You did good, doll,” Stu curls up behind you, his arms wrapped around you softly.

You sigh, nestling your face into the sheets as you finally give in to your body’s exhaustion.

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[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes✦

(Bros I'm so sorry, I've had the biggest fucking writer's block. I'm hoping some silly lil meme posts will make up for it until I can write something substantial, I'msosorry-)

Y/N: Some of us, I don’t wanna name names, give me a headache when they speak and its- Soap: Is it me?? Y/N: No. Graves: Is it me? Y/N: …it’s not Soap- --

Price: I’m gonna make you a soup. Gaz, delirious with the flu: I don’t wanna be a soup, Captain… Price: …right, how about I give you soup instead? Gaz: That’d be nicer. Price: Right. --

Soap: What the fuck knuckles is this? Valeria: *holding her hyper femme gf in her lap* She’s my girlfriend you intolerant shit. Soap: Whoa! Pump the hate brakes Fox & friends. I’m just surprised anyone would date you. Especially Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony. Y/N, on Valeria’s lap: You know that cartoon? Soap: No comment. Ghost: No, I think you should comment more, Johnny. Soap: NO. COMMENT. Moving on! Gaz: We’re gonna circle back to that. --

Graves: I think the term you’re searching for is ‘current captain’. Ghost: The words I’m searching for, I can’t say. Because there’s a rookie *motions to Soap* present. Soap: No no, say it. I can handle it. Ghost: You sure? Soap: Absolutely, L.T. Ghost: *looks at Graves* Fucking donkey lookin’ muppet bitch. Soap: Brutal blow, sir. Well done. --

Y/N: *comes in* Hey, Gaz, how old is your captain? Gaz: What? Y/N: No not like that…it is, it is like that. How old is he? I came into base, he asked if I needed anything to eat. I said ‘eat what’? Gaz: Okay, first of all, put my plate down and stop hitting on my captain! Y/N: Don’t get mad at me! I don’t even wanna be here. Y’all the ones that want me to be here. --

NPC: Ohhh if I weren’t a lady, I’d deck you! Fem!Y/N: Oh please. Try it and I’d have you on your back so fast you’d think you’re on a date. Ghost: *spits tea* Price, covered in tea: That was so unnecessary- --

Ghost: Mmph. Y/N: Dark room, avoidant, you seem tired despite sleeping for awhile…you wanna try and get out in the sun or do you just need to be in the sadness dungeon? Ghost: *holds up two fingers* Y/N: Would you like some tea for the sadness dungeon? Ghost: …Mhm. Y/N: Tea for the sad dragon coming up! Ghost: Mmph. (Aka “thank you”) Y/N: No problem! --

Y/N: Ya know sometimes there’s times in life where you just have to sit back and go, “ya know what? I’m proud of myself.” Gaz: Is this one of those times? Y/N: No- Soap: *wheeze* --

(Shibari reference)

Price: …alright, when I said we needed to restrain him in a way that ensured he couldn’t get out. This is not- Gaz: These are not military knots. Y/N: No, they aren’t. You all suggested knots that he would know how to get out of. You told me to get rid of that possibility. So, I did. Soap: He is tied…to the ceiling. Ghost: You kinky bitch. Y/N: *shrug* Price: Where did you even learn this? Y/N: That is for me and my daddy issues to know, sir. Don’t worry about it. Just wake him up so we can start interrogating him.

-

Graves: We can rule the world! Ghost: *turns to leave* Graves:: *watches him pull out something of Y/N’s* Graves: WH-YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FUCK MY WIFE Graves: GHOST. G H O S T Ghost: *leaves* --

Graves: Let me log into Twitter- WAIT, IS THAT GHOST’S DICK!?! Ghost: I fucked your wife. Graves: AGGHHHHHH- --

Medic!Y/N: Don’t torture yourself Ghost. *snips bandage* Medic!Y/N: That’s my job.~ Ghost, internally: Stayfocusedwecannot- --

Price: We’re you listening to me at all? Y/N: No I was fantasizing about beard burn. Price: Pardon? Y/N: Huh? --

Ghost: He died of natural causes. Gaz: You pushed him off the roof. Ghost: Gravity is natural. --

Y/N: Nuh Uh, no. I’m not doing it. I have self respect, and I will not stoop so low as to- Gaz: *brings out 100£.* Y/N: -oooooo*takes money* I’ll have it done in an hour. --

Soap, looking at Konig: That man is a tree. Y/N: Then I'm a fucking squirrel. Soap: On the hunt for nuts then? Y/N: Famished for them. Ghost: Why do I sit with you two...

[myownwholewildworld]

iii. like obsidian & quartz - acta, non verba

chapter 2 | series masterlist | ao3 | main masterlist | chapter 4 (soon) pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. summary: your efforts to get the ball rolling on your plan get shunted aside by marcus' chivalry. a/n: hey, hi, hello! i'm sorry it's taken me a month to post the third chapter, but here it is! 💖 i do find posting this series a bit nerve-wracking, just because i have the feeling that this plot is bigger than my writing skills so i keep wondering if i'm making it justice. but i'm rolling with it anyways haha as always, all interactions welcome, i do appreciate you liking, sharing and/or commenting! take care <3 warnings: 18+, mdni. some impure thoughts. one account of a handjob (👀). sexual tension. misogyny. a fair bit of swearing. sword fight, death, wounds, blood... you know the drill. dialogue in italics means it’s spoken in gaelic (unless stated otherwise, i.e. latin) when marcus and callie are in the same scene. marcus is 48, ofc!reader is 26. w/c: ~9.9k. (i'm truly sorry) dividers by @saradika-graphics taglist at the end (let me know if you want to be added/removed please!)

“Here again, wee lass?” Cormag’s croaky voice caught you off guard.

You jumped in place and almost hit the back of your head against the shelf above.

You were bent over a pile of baskets in the kitchen, trying to count how many wild parsnips there were left. With your family gone, you had to look after your people. You worried there was not much left to eat, but the old cook seemed to be good at rationing. The Romans had no measure when it came to food, rapidly dwindling the stock saved for the village. There were way too many mouths to feed now, and the first harvest of the root vegetables would not be for at least another six months.

Your blood boiled when you saw the feasts the Romans were served every night while the servants had a measle chunk of bread and a watered-down broth. You were all living under tyranny — one you hoped to topple. Only if fucking Marcus Acacius was not such a tight cunt, you would be closer to your goal.

It wasn’t for your lack of trying though. Every night you were as suggestive as you could, considering how many pairs of eyes were watching you — enemies’ and allies’ alike. The first lusting after you, wondering if you were a whore who could warm up their bed at night, and the second curious about what game you were up to. Not many people were privy to your plan.

“Ah, ye ogre! You scared the shit out of me,” you chuckled, hand on pounding heart, when you turned around to face him.

Cormag’s thick brows knitted together, his big, round nose red with rage.

“I told you I didn’t want to see you around here until at least tomorrow,” he barked, arms folded with disapproval.

“Come on, Cormag. I’ll work tonight and then—”

“Nay, I don’t want to hear it. You are not working tonight. You’ve worked the last eight nights in a row,” he said between gritted teeth. “I want you to go home to Bonnie and rest.”

You huffed, now your turn to cross arms.

“I need no rest. I am fresh as a daisy, couldn’t be better,” you lied through your teeth.

The reality was you were knackered. You had been helping out in the kitchens day and night, much to Cormag’s despair. If you were not doing a stock check, you were shuffling stuff around for the next meal or cleaning after those filthy, mannerless soldiers. And you were the savages, the cheek they had was beyond you.

“Don’t bullshit me, I can see right through it. Those grey circles under your eyes are screaming for some sleep,” he replied, getting closer to you.

His heavy hands landed on your shoulders, forcing you to turn around and pushing you towards the door. You resisted, digging your heels into the cobblestone.

“Cormag, mas e do thoil e (please)! If I go home, I’m just going to get bored. I need something to occupy my mind with,” you pleaded with him, but he was deaf as a rock to your request.

“The whole point of sleeping is to empty your mind, not to occupy it with something,” he stopped dragging you once you were through the arch.

Sleep had evaded you since your whole family had been murdered. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Marcus’ gladius sinking in your father’s belly, your brothers’ and sister’s intertwined arms as they burnt to ashes, your mother’s mangled body while the Earth swallowed her whole. As if you didn’t have enough demons as it was, tragedy had knocked on your door once more — unannounced, greedy even.

You spun around, flashing your eyelashes at him, puppy eyes and all. Cormag just shook his head no, unwavering, and pointed towards the corridor that would lead you outside.

“I want you out of my sight for one day, fear beag (little one). Humour me, I beg you,” it was almost a prayer, but you knew Cormag did not have one sanctified bone in his body.

“Okay, just one night. But I’ll be back tomorrow!” You shouted over your shoulder, a proper threat, as you sauntered towards the hall.

It was still the early evening, but the courtyard was brimming with life. There were a few legionaries dotted around, swords at the ready. They seemed to train late into the night before they burst in into the great hall to eat and drink like gluttons.

As your feet slithered through the wet grass, you suddenly felt a heavy pair of eyes on you. Brown, beautiful— no, dreadful eyes, you were sure. You didn’t need to look to know that Marcus was watching your every step — your body burnt hot every time he would study you with so much intensity.

And he was doing that again, just now. You debated whether to lock eyes on him or not, but it was a lost fight. Soon enough, your green orbs located him in his black and golden armour walking towards the keep, mud up to his knees and a wild look on his face. One you had not seen before — a crack in his steadfast façade.

Your brows slightly furrowed, almost coming to a halt, while you tried to understand what was different. Then you saw it: his sword was stained with blood. He was not coming back from training, but… from battle? Your heartrate spiked; your eyes slightly widened as your fingers clutched a fist of your long skirt.

What battle? What had happened? What was going on? Who had he hurt? Did you know them? Had you lost someone dear? Was death knocking at your door once more?

You tamed your features as he approached, putting on your best act as you calmed down your quick breathing. His eyes never left yours, not while he walked from the portcullis to the keep, not once.

As he got to where you were, he nodded in your direction, as if to say, “don’t worry, I’m okay.” You then understood he mistook your concern, thinking it was for him. Oh, how wrong he was… You were not worried about him in the slightest, but about whoever succumbed to his sword.

As soon as he and his retinue disappeared into the keep, you bunched your skirt up and started running towards the village, dreading what you might find there.

Five minutes later, you were in the town’s square. A crowd was gathered around the stone well. The shrieking cry of a mother cradling his dead son pierced through the silence, boring into your heart.

“My wee lad, mo mhac (my son)!” Her screams formed a knot in your throat, one so tight you feared you could not breath.

You forged your way through the multitude, finding the woman on her knees, hugging her son close to her chest. You knew them — you knew everyone in your lands, if not by face, by name at least. These you knew by face and name.

Torcall was standing right behind her, blood on his clothes indicating he had been the one bringing the lad back for his mother to mourn.

Torcall’s sombre expression prevented you from saying anything, even when you looked at him for answers. He just shook his head no and turned around to speak to a young man. You quickly recognised him too, Dòmhnall — son to the grieving woman, brother to the deceased boy. Dòmhnall nodded to Torcall’s words and vanished.

Torcall made his way towards you and pushed you aside.

“What the fuck is going on, Torcall?”

“People are growing restless, Callie. The Romans were by the firth, training in the murky waters. Some lads saw Acacius alone for one second and thought they could take him,” he didn’t need to explain what the outcome had been.

“What were they thinking? Taking on the General? How old were they?”

“Around ten and five. When Acacius killed the boy, his friends panicked, dragged him out and retreated. I found them in the woods. The others were lucky to escape alive,” Torcall sighed heavily and so did you.

“We all need to be careful here. We’ve got to play the long game. Once we have enough information from them, then we can start planning some skirmishes to diminish their numbers, but not before,” you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration as you both walked towards Bonnie’s.

“People don’t listen to reason when they feel threatened,” he looked at you askance, then back down to his feet, momentarily lost in thought. “You need to speak to some people, let the rumour spread that you’re working towards freedom — otherwise they’ll feel like they’ve been forgotten, and rightfully so. Let people know that they will need to be ready to fight when you command them. Give them some hope, something to look forward to.”

You didn’t want to show your hand too early, but Torcall was partially right. If this continued, if people tried to get their own justice, it would end up being more tragic than what ought to be. You could not endure more senseless loss of life, your clansmen dying for naught.

Your plan was so clear in your head, a simple to-do list —gain Marcus’ trust, kill off his army little by little, then finish him once he was the last man standing— but yet you hoped effective. If someone deviated, if someone betrayed you, then it would all be over way too soon. And you would end up like your mother — left for dead, hung in a cage off the keep as if you were a rat exposed to the elements.

“My athair’s retinue are already in the know,” you thought out loud, lips pouting with doubt. “But I did make them swear they would not tell a soul.”

Torcall propped open the wooden door to Bonnie’s crannog, the creaking noise welcoming you to the only home you knew now.

“I’ll go speak to my cousins, Seumas and Anndra, tomorrow. I know how eager they are to start a war, so this might appease them. I don’t want people up in arms just yet, we’ll wait for the Romans to be at their lowest,” you whispered back to him.

“Uhm, maybe—” Torcall’s voice got drown by the ones of his children.

“Auntaidh, auntaidh (auntie)!”The synchronised cacophony of your niece and nephew swept away part of the guilt you were feeling, forcing a wide smile onto your lips.

“I don’t think she’s here tonight, Marcus,” Maximus jest made his head turn to his direction.

With a cocked brow, Marcus feigned ignorance, the wooden fork in his hand mindlessly pushing around a lone meatball on his plate.

“Who?” He asked, as if neither of them knew who Maximus was referring to.

Your presence in the great hall every night had become a welcomed sight, one he had grown used to over the last few days. Not because it was soothing, but because it caused havoc. That was what he welcomed — someone who was not taken aback by his presence, someone who would hold his gaze and wouldn’t fold, someone who would shamelessly say his first name the way you said it nine nights ago.

And if he was entirely honest with himself, he also welcomed your advances. Not that he was showing it, but every taunting Dux Meus (my General/Leader/God), every suggestive glance, every time you touched him, his skin would set ablaze. It was just a harmless game, as long as it remained just that. He was here to do a job, and nothing should get in the way of that — even if a red-haired, green-eyed nymph tempted him down the path of infidelity.

How hypocritical of him to think of all the things he would do to you if given the chance, when he despised his wife for doing exactly that.

“What was her name? Connie? Charlie?” Maximus tapped his chin with one finger, pretending to think.

“Callie,” Marcus bit the bait without realising.

“Ah, yes. Callie. How could you forget when the poor woman has been throwing herself at you for more than a week now and you have given her nothing in return?” The commander observed with an ample grin. “Have you claimed her yet? Fucked her?”

His whole body went rigid with rage at Maximus’ provocation. Sometimes he hated his friendship with him, the liberties he took even though he was above the man in the command chain. If it wasn’t because there were still people on the dais, Marcus would have punched him square in the jaw to shut him up.

Instead, his eyes darted to his friend’s with a dark warning in them. Maximus laughed it off, leaning back on his chair and looking at him with a mischievous smile.

“I’ll take that as a no then. I bet she’s tired of being ignored and that’s why she’s not here tonight. Maybe she’s fucking one of your legionaries in the barracks right now. Damn, maybe I’ll do that myself—”

“Are you fucking done?” He interrupted, the legs of his chair screeching as he dragged it backwards to stand up.

“Have I touched a nerve now?” Maximus’ smile just grew bigger as he stood up too, palming Marcus’ shoulder. “I’m just messing with you, old friend. Helping you, actually. You need to get laid, clear your mind of war for one night. Your hair is greyer now than what it was a month ago.”

“I don’t need your advice nor your teasing. It may be all fun and games to you, but there’s a lot on the line here,” Marcus sneered as they walked down the corridor formed by cheery and drunk soldiers sat at their tables.

He wasn’t worried about his reputation but all the debts he owed. Not him, specifically, but his wife. The lush life she led at home would ruin him eventually.

Maximus’ demeanour changed, hands laced on his back and head bowed down in deep thought.

“I know what’s at stake, Marcus. We all are doing what we can to find the instigator,” only then Marcus realised that Maximus was talking about the attempt on his life that afternoon. “Valerius’ henchman was able to follow the boy into the forest. He’s definitely dead.”

He said it as if it was good news, but that death would haunt Marcus at night. It had been just a boy, probably not more than ten and six, who had met his fate at his sword. Marcus had tried to keep him at bay, but when the boy lunged forwards with a small knife on his hand, he basically impaled himself on the gladius Marcus was holding to ward him off.

“Good to hear,” he replied with a flat, lacking voice.

Maximus angled his head, then shook it.

“Good night, Marcus. I’ll let you know if I see your Callie entertaining the men in the barracks,” Maximus waved him goodbye, light-heartedly.

“Sod off,” he rolled his eyes, before turning the corner.

A tiny part of him wanted to go after his friend and check himself, make sure you were not fucking another man.

That thought made him frown. What you did or didn’t do was none of his business. In fact, you were a free woman and could do as you pleased. Even if that meant you were not pleasing him.

You threw the saddle on Kelpie’s back — she was your late mother’s horse. The horse was as black as coal with a shiny, short coat. She was a young one, so still needed a fair amount of training — at least, she was properly socialised. Mòrag had died before she could train her newest addition. This horse was, most probably, the closest you would ever be to your màthair (mother).

The mare neighed loudly when you tried to adjust the saddle on her belly and moved around nervously, trotting in place to put distance between you two. You shushed her, caressing her muzzle and chin groove.

“Shh, shhh… It’s okay, àlainn (lovely). I see you don’t like that, do you?” You whispered in a calming manner until the mare quietened down.

You leaned forward until your forehead pressed against hers and then placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of Kelpie’s nose before reaching towards her back to remove the untied saddle.

“Barebacking it is then,” the idea didn’t thrill you, but you didn’t fancy walking all the way to Bun Craobh (Bunchrew).

That morning you had gone out to the barn to speak to Anndra and Seumas, only to find out they were no longer there. When you went back into the crannog, Bonnie mentioned they had left the morning prior. Something about a carpentry job in the next town over required their attention, or that was they had told their mother.

You had a nagging feeling that wasn’t true. The siblings were ardent defenders of your family, so you knew they would not stand idly. What brought them to Bun Craobh though, you were not sure but intended on finding out.

You led Kelpie out of the stables and into the courtyard of your castle. You hoped no one would notice you sneaking out with a horse that allegedly didn’t belong to you, but you were obviously out of luck — had been for a while now.

“Hey, puella (young lady)! Where do you think you’re going with that horse?” One of the roman soldiers cut you off, hands on hips and a deep frown. You recognised him from sitting on the dais with Marcus, although you didn’t know his name.

You cursed him under your breath, but composed a sweet smile, when you just wanted to knee his balls and run past him.

“I’m in need of a horse. We are out of some herbs and spices in the kitchens, so I was going to visit the town’s healer…” You explained with your eyes averted down and fingers laced in front of you.

“I’ll take care of this, Cassius,” Marcus appeared on his back, a heavy, broad and very masculine hand landing on the shoulder of the man in front of you.

For a brief second, you saw a flicker of disgust in his eyes, but Cassius quickly masked it with a deferent nod before walking away. Your eyes followed him, curious as to what you had just seen. Did Cassius despise Marcus? Why?

“Where are you going, Callie?” The General’s deep, throaty voice made you look in his direction.

For a second, you got lost in his chocolate eyes — there was an almost imperceptible sadness in them, a tinge of regret that seemed to haunt him every day and every night. How could that possibly be when he dispatched people to their deaths so mindlessly, so effortlessly?

“Cormag needs some bits for his cooking, Dux Meus,” you explained again, and there it was.

His irises darkened with the last two words, the sadness transforming into something else — liquid darkness. You held his gaze, hypnotised by how the desire rapidly kicked the sadness out of him. And you knew he was holding onto every bit of his control, taming his body not to react to your words — but his eyes he could not govern. They were a window to his lust.

You fought with your own craving. The way he stared at you made your skin run hot as ember and slick pool in your slit. You had been wondering what it would feel like to be fucked raw by a man like Marcus Acacius; you had even fantasized about it a few nights.

An donas dubh (dammit)! If it wasn’t for how crowded Bonnie’s crannog was, you would have even touched yourself to the thought of him plunging in and out between your thighs.

That idea was so foreign to you, it took you aback.

“Is that okay?” His question lingered; Marcus’ head tilted with knitting brows.

You looked at him doe eyed as you came out of your wet haze. Fuck, stop imagining things, he’s right there talking to you! You reprimanded yourself before blinking a few times to clear your mind.

“I-I’m sorry, Dominus (Master)?” The slight stammer in your voice was not faked this time around.

“I said I’ll accompany you to wherever you need to go. It’s not safe out there, even less so for a lonely maid serving the Romans,” he repeated.

That offer shocked you because you were not expecting such gallantry from him. You also had to smother a snicker — you were not at risk of anything, this was your land, your people. But Marcus did not know that.

“Oh, it’s not necessary, my lord. I know my way around—”

“I insist. Please,” he added, his fists curled on his sides.

If the look in his eyes indicated anything, that would be that Marcus Acacius would not accept no for an answer. And that would mess your whole itinerary up, because you could not take him to Bun Craobh, in case your cousins were really planning something. Now you would really have to go to Naimh’s new cottage, even though that was not your plan at all.

“Awright, aye,” you conceded, an unwilling smile crooking your lips.

“I didn’t see you last night in the great hall,” Marcus broke the surprisingly comfortable silence.

He was riding on your left and you couldn’t help but turn your head to watch him. So, your efforts were going somewhere at last. For eight nights you had been on his heels, serving him as if that was what you were born to do. Your attempts at seducing him began to be so obvious, you could hear the other maids giggling to themselves every time you leaned over his shoulder, offering him a clear sight of your generous cleavage.

Even his soldiers had noticed. You had been so obvious, other men thought you were a pleasure woman and that was invitation enough for some of them to try and reach for your ass whenever you approached their tables. Disgusting behaviour, but you had to laugh your way out of it and slap some hands so no one would take offense at your rejection.

“Cormag would not let me work again. I really wanted to be there though,” you said truthfully, watching him in the corner of your eye.

Marcus straightened his back, as if suddenly uncomfortable, and studied your surroundings.

It was still early afternoon, but it seemed to be later due to the thick tree canopy above you. You were travelling westward through the dense forest that neared Beauly Firth. Naimh had moved to a crannog in the road to Bun Craobh after her home in Loch Moy had been burnt to ashes. Thankfully, she had not been home when it happened. A small win in your book.

“I see. He worries about you,” he noted, jaw tight as he spoke.

“Aye, he’s like a father to me,” that old git really was. “I should be back to work tomorrow.”

“Good,” he replied without even thinking and you knew he did not intend to say that out loud. “I mean, you’re one of the few people who speak Latin. It’s hard to communicate with the rest,” Marcus added swiftly to veil his slip of tongue.

You smiled to yourself, realising this was the first time you two were alone, away from prying eyes.

“You only need to ask, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice charged with the right hint of suggestion and provocation.

His neck snapped in your direction at your words.

“Ask what?”

He knew exactly what. The man was stubborn as a mule, playing hard to get. But he was not immune to your advances, as much as he wanted to conceal his lust for you.

“You know what,” was your simple answer before spurring Kelpie on with the heels of your leather shoes.

You spotted a small hut between some trees off the main path, that had to be the crannog that Naimh had found in her search for a new home. You had seen that cottage a few times before, always abandoned and eerie — legend said that was where the wisps would lead you at night.

Kelpie sprinted towards it, and you heard Marcus’ horse neigh a few feet behind you. You needed to act fast before good ol’ Naimh gave you away and revealed your identity. So, the moment you dismounted and Naimh was under the frame of the main door, you threw your arms around her neck.

She was a fragile woman in her late sixties, white hair and wrinkling skin. Her nose a tad too prominent, her lips wide and big, slanted eyes. She was tiny too, with a crouched back that made her look even smaller.

“Naimh!” You exclaimed excitedly, and then whispered in her ear in Gaelic, “He doesn’t know who I am. Call me Callie, play along, please.”

The old woman stilled and then patted your back in understanding.

“Ah, my sweet Callie, so good to see you. I started to think you’d forgotten about this old crone. This how you treat the elderly?” She spoke in your native language, which meant Marcus would not understand a word.

“He doesn’t understand, Naimh, you don’t need to put on the best act of your life, just be mindful of my name,” you sniggered, holding her hands with both of yours. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“So have I, leannan (darling), so have I,” she squeezed your hands before dropping hers to her sides, her eyes squinting with a bit of hatred.

Marcus cleared his throat, standing right behind you. You stepped aside.

“General, this is Naimh, our town’s healer. Naimh, this is General Acacius,” you introduced them in Latin, although you were sure Naimh did not understand much.

“My pleasure,” he bowed his head slightly while Naimh stared him down as if he was a snake trying to steal the eggs off her nest.

The old woman just grunted and walked back inside, not responding to his pleasantry.

Shrugging, you looked at Marcus.

“Don’t mind her too much, she’s not really fond of anyone,” that much was true.

“She’s fond of you,” he pointed out with a raised brow.

“Well, yeah, that’s because I pester her a lot. I can be very insisting.”

“You definitely are,” he muttered under his breath, not intended for your ears, but you heard that.

With a sufficient grin, you turned on your heels and got inside the crannog with Marcus right behind you.

By the time you were done with the visit, it was almost pitch-black outside. The weather, as everything in the Highlands, had turned too — it was dreich and drizzling, a light, damp mist hanging low, close to the ground.

You attached the thread of the little hemp sack around your waist as you waved goodbye to Naimh. She had given you an assortment of different spices she had stocked up: wild mountain thyme, dried pepper dulse and coriander grass. You were not sure if Cormag needed them, but you had to keep up with the lie in Marcus’ presence.

Both horses were lazily grazing around. They looked so different—Marcus’ white as a quartz, yours black as obsidian—they reminded you of how opposite you both were. Ironic, really, that the mare and the stallion were now approaching each other and rubbing necks.

“Kelpie,” you called her. Your mother’s horse barely looked at you, too busy grooming the back of Marcus’ horse with her teeth. “Hey!”

Kelpie almost brayed like a donkey, showing her annoyance, before she cantered towards you with a loud neigh.

“Oi, calm down. We’ve got to go back,” you asked of her, grabbing the reins.

“Kelpie? That’s an unusual name,” Marcus said while he jumped onto his horse’s back graciously.

Your mother had let you choose the name when it was first born, in one of your last visits to your family home as a married woman. A brief respite shared with Mòrag where you had forgotten who you were married to — you had spent the whole afternoon coming up with uncommon names and had finally settled for Kelpie.

“It’s a creature that inhabits lochs. They are shape-shifting spirits that usually take the form of a black horse,” you explained as you managed to get on top of the mare. A difficult task, considering there was no saddle to hold onto. “Some people say they are evil because they prey on us. They drag their victims into the water, devour them, and throw the entrails to the water's edge, so they can lure their next casualty. I think that’s just survival. There is no treachery in their nature.”

By the time you had finished talking, you were by Marcus’ side. His eyebrows almost touched each other, and you wondered if he had picked on your cutting remark about treachery. Whether he did or not, you did not know.

“Are they just stories to scare children away from deep water or are they real?” He questioned after a deliberating minute as both of your horses resumed the path ahead.

“I have never seen a kelpie myself, but I know folk who have perished to them,” you shrugged, the image of dismembered bodies by Loch Ness coming back to you. “It’s not a pretty picture.”

“I bet. Your people seem to have many stories about lurking creatures. I have seen the tapestries telling the story of the dragon-like monster living in the lake nearby,” he said with a pinch of incredulity in his voice.

“Loch. We call them lochs, not lakes,” you corrected him.

“Sorry, loch,” he said back with a soft ch, head cocked towards you. It was a good attempt.

“And that would be Nessie. She’s a staple around here, everyone loves her,” you joked. “She’s a Kelpie, but one which transforms into some sort of dragon. I’m not sure though, never seen her myself. But if you ever speak to Cormag, he’ll tell you all about her. Best mates they are, so he says.”

As soon as you spoke of the cook, you realised your mistake. You were talking too much, telling him all about a land he hated, a land he wanted to steal from you. A land he would destroy along with all its people. There was no point in explaining to him all about what made Caledonia special if he was here to wreck your life.

“The cook?” He pressed and you simply nodded, remaining silent.

For ten minutes neither of you talked. Weirdly, the silence was not ever bothersome. You didn’t have the need to fill it, and neither did he.

Until he did.

“My stud’s name is Faun,” he muttered, resuming the dead conversation where you had left it.  The stallion’s ears perked up at the sound of his name. “They are half-human, half-goat creatures. They inhabit forests like this back home. Some say they instil fear in travelling men and drive them to madness, others say they can guide you to safety. Never encountered one myself either.”

You turned your head around to glance at him. His story was strangely similar to yours, just adapted to his own beliefs. How could two very different people share something so unique as your love for mythical creatures?

“They sound beautiful. And before you judge me for saying that… beauty is on the eye of the beholder,” you added with a mellow laugh. You found goats endearing.

Marcus’ serious expression softened. “Evil or not, I do think they are too.”

Your eyes locked for an eternal second and you wondered why there was an unfamiliar feeling sitting low in your belly.

A split second was all it took to make you snap out of whatever brief connection you suddenly felt.

You heard the whistling sound before you saw the arrow sticking out of Marcus’ left shoulder, in that unprotected spot where the shoulder pad met the breastplate. The arrow had flown just a few inches away from your ear.

Marcus’ eyes widened as reality settled in. Out of nowhere, three men emerged from the woods, face painted with soot—the whites of their eyes sparkled under the full moon.

The sudden movement scared off Kelpie, who harshly stirred around and started galloping towards the trees with no regard for her rider—you. You managed to hold on to the low branches of the trees, Kelpie slipping from between your thighs as the mare ran towards safety alone, leaving you hanging from a branch.

The clink of metal behind you forced you to let go of the branch, landing on your feet like a graceful cat. When you turned around, you saw that Marcus had dismounted Faun. His stud, at least, had not abandoned his rider to the mercy of his enemies the same way your mare had. Little traitorous horse.

“Get back!” Marcus shouted at you as he repositioned his body between you and the threat of the threesome.

But they were no threat to you, you were sure. They were here to kill him. The same way some fucking kids had tried to end him that very afternoon. Were people plain, thick gòrach (stupid)?

“People are growing restless,” Torcall had said to you yesterday. So much so they would endanger you too? Your cover? What were you supposed to do now?

If you helped them and Marcus survived, you would be dead before dawn, your cover blown.

If you helped them and Marcus died, Agricola would appoint a new man in Marcus’ stead. One that might not fit well into your plan. And you would be hunted down too.

If you helped him and they survived, they would go back to your folk and tell them all how you betrayed them, how you turned against them — how you protected the General.

If you helped him and they died… Your conscience would be tainted forever.

Or you could do nothing — let destiny run its course. The General deserved to die for what he had done to your family; it was actually only fair. But Marcus needed to be killed off at the right time — not sooner nor later. Just right, as a pig hung for slaughter on the first days of winter.

As the Romans would say, Alea iacta est (the dice is cast).

“Caileag fealltach (traitorous lass)!” One of the men screeched before leaping on you, sgian-dubh (small knife) on his left and a longer sword on his right hand.

The raucous sound of steel colliding sparked life back into you. Marcus’ gladius had curbed the attack. And with a thundering flourish of his sword, the edge of it hit the man’s side with deadly precision. The attacker crumbled to his knees, a fountain of blood varnishing the grass underneath.

“Mac na galla (son of a bitch), I’ll have your head for this!” The taller man cowed in Gàidhlig.

Marcus’ hand pushed you back — unbeknownst to you, you had taken a few steps forward, wanting to say something, anything to stop this madness.

Marcus and his opponent exchanged a few strident blows. Despite the General being substantially older than his adversary, his movements were more gracious, trained, measured, while the other man’s were sloppy and directionless. It was only a matter of minutes until one of them tired out, and your bet, regrettably, was on your clansman.

“What is a lass like you doing with a man like him? Are you his whore or what? Have you no shame, woman?” The recriminatory voice of the last man came to you in your mother tongue, albeit a slightly different accent.

He had swerved towards you while Marcus was distracted with the other man, too focused on the dance of swords. You were unarmed, this fight you would not win.

Your kinsman’s sword swayed in front of you, and you managed to jump back, avoiding the blade by a mere inch. Your eyes shot back to his, back slightly crouched, trying to predict his next movement.

A malicious smirk appeared on your opponent’s lips, as if he was enjoying himself.

“I’m going to send you to fucking Dubnos (Hell), so you can rot there with the low-lives you get involved with,” the threat was not veiled.

He lunged forward and you dropped to the floor — eyeing the dead man’s blood-soaked sgian-dubh, you grabbed it and held it close to your chest.

“I don’t think so. I don’t want to kill you, please,” you almost begged him between gritted teeth as you dragged yourself back a few feet, slowly getting up as Marcus’ fight unfolded fifteen yards away from where you stood.

A brief glance in his direction told you he was holding up alright, just as you knew he would. You had seen him in a sword fight before — your father had died because of it. Because of him.

“Kill me? You?” he laughed out loud. “You’re just a sad, little, useless woman. What do you think you can do to me? Bet the closest you have ever been to a knife is in a kitchen, where you fucking belong. There and warming up some man’s bed, but not his,” he barked back, almost looming over you.

What he just said struck you as odd. Did this man not know how many battles you had fought besides your father, your entire family, to protect your land, your clan?

You could not recognise him under all the soot, his hair tied back and covered in mud in a pretty good attempt at concealing his identity.

Before you could question him, he lunged forwards.

“Callie, no!” You heard Marcus’ call, a note of fear sullying his words.

An acute relief washed over him when the man in front of you fell to his knees, laying at your feet. A big, burgundy stain tarnished your blue dress around your belly area. A bloody knife was firm on your steady hand, your eyes devoid of emotion — had you done this before? Impossible, he thought to himself, she’s just a maid.

The relief just grew in his tight chest when your eyes locked with his. But what he saw in them caught him off guard — fear?

“Marcus!”

Then he felt it. The ripping of skin, the sinking of metal through flesh, then a few twists of the knife rearranging his guts for good measure — then warmth. Sticky, wet warmth soaking the woollen tunic underneath his armour.

“Die, bastard,” his attacker whispered in his ear, the words strangely clear to him.

Marcus’ eyes quickly drifted down to see one of those small knives the barbarians used, sunken down to its hilt on the left-hand side of his lower abdomen, right under his lorica. He didn’t feel the pain, not just yet — just rage.

He had disarmed his rival but blundered. He shouldn’t have, but the moment he realised you were no longer behind him, he frantically searched his surroundings to find you quite a few feet away from him, from his protection. He thought you dead when he saw you so close to that man, almost entrapped in an intimate embrace. Turned out, you could protect yourself alright.

His left fingers followed the red river dripping onto the ground, almost mesmerised by the sight of his own thick blood.

Snapping out of his trance and with shock still holding him upright, he effortlessly swung his sword — the other man eyeing him with fright, realising those were his last seconds on this worldly plane.

The head of the last man standing rolled off his shoulders and hit the ground with a sharp thud.

“No, Marcus, no! Don’t pull it out,” you whispered into his neck, your fingers wrapping around his on the hilt of the knife.

When did you bridge the distance? How were you so close? He hadn’t heard you. At all.

His mind went numb as more blood poured from his body, his speech slurred as his grasp on consciousness became looser by the minute.

“I need to—,” he mumbled, brows frowned and fingers tighter.

“No, you’ll bleed out. Please, listen to me. If you want to live, don’t fucking touch it,” your sweary prayer finally reached him, and he loosened up the grip on the knife. “Shite. Faun! Fucking shite, Faun! Come, boy, come!” He barely saw you waving down his horse — his sight going too.

Marcus fought to stay afloat, but the waves were relentless, bigger than him, pushing him down to the seabed. He was drowning.

“Can you— Fuck, Marcus, can you jump?”

He looked at you confused, then in front of him. Faun was standing right there, waiting for him to hop onto his back. His hand held on to the saddle but couldn’t bring himself up.

“Ad genua (to your knees), Faun,” he muttered in Latin, and the stallion knelt almost instantly.

“Thank the fucking gods he’s trained be…” Marcus didn’t hear the last of your sentence as he plummeted on top of Faun, the knife and arrow sinking further in his flesh.

If it wasn’t for his impending death, you would have been relieved when Marcus fainted.

“…trained better than my mother’s mare,” was how you ended your sentence. One that would have fucked your whole plan up. And your life too.

“Fuck, this is bad. Really bad,” you muttered to yourself frantically as you sat down on the saddle.

You pushed Marcus’ body up, making him sit upright facing you with his heavy, manly thighs over yours — your knees pressing hard around Faun’s back to keep your balance as the stud stood up. You cradled Marcus’ cheeks and lightly patted him.

“Marcus. Hey, wake up,” you whispered, uprooting no reaction from him whatsoever. “Fuck, I said wake up!” You slapped him harder this time, the sound ricocheting on the trees and the palm of your hand itchy — it shouldn’t given the circumstances, but smacking him felt damn good.

The General groaned but didn’t open his eyes. With your right forearm pressed against his chest, your fingers wrapped around the arrow on his left shoulder. With as much care as you could and trying not to wiggle the arrow, you snapped the shaft at the hafting with the help of your left hand.

Marcus did not complain, so he had to be really out of it right now. You let him lean forward with his sweaty forehead lodged in the crook of your neck — way too close for comfort. You detested his proximity, but your body had a mind of its own. His warm breath fanning your skin made your hair stand.

Not the fucking time.

“Focus, dammit,” you summoned all your strength.

You were closer to Naimh’s crannog than to the Inbhir Nis’ fortress. You did not know what other threats lied ahead and Marcus was in dire need of help — you could feel his blood dripping onto the saddle, staining Faun’s white coat. Naimh would have everything you required to patch him up and her hut was well hidden.

You looked in both directions, Faun patiently awaiting your command. You veered the reins to the left.

“Hyah, hyah!” You compelled the stallion with a subtle kick of your heels.

Faun darted forward, fast as a wildcat, and you wrapped your arm around Marcus’ waist to prevent him from falling sideways to the ground.

It only took you ten minutes to get to Naimh’s again. You reined Faun back and he came to a sudden stop just a couple of feet away from the door.

“Ad genua,” you said to the horse, remembering the General’s command, and Faun knelt.

By that point, Marcus’ mind was very far away. You threaded your arms under his and  dragged him all to the crannog. There was a red trickle all the way from the saddle to where you were now.

“Fuck,” with the heel of your foot, you kicked Naimh’s door. “Naimh, it’s me, open up!”

You heard the rustling of her feet as she sauntered towards the door, swinging it open. With your back towards her, you could not see her expression, but you bet on shock.

“Obh obh (oh dear), what’s happened? Are you hurt?” You could tell Naimh was extremely worried.

“I’m fine. Him… well, not so much. We’ve been attacked. I don’t know who sent those men, but they were out for blood,” you explained as you hauled him back inside.

Thank the gods you were strong enough to grab him by his shoulders and lay him down on Naimh’s bed.

“Did you recognise them?” She asked while searching for her healing kit — a basket with a sharp, small knife, some eyed needles made of bone, wool thread and a few different species of fresh plants and herbs.

“No, I didn’t. They covered their faces in soot and their hair with mud, I could barely tell they were human,” you omitted the fact that you had to stab one of them to death to keep your cover intact and also to save yourself. Naimh was a healer, she would not understand having to take someone else’s life voluntarily.

You, on the other hand, were used to it.

Your hands worked faster than your brain — you grabbed the knife and cut Marcus’ tunic, from the edge of the skirt to his hip, so you would have better access to the wound on his lower abdomen. That was the one which was profusely bleeding, while the arrowhead seemed to block the wound enough so it wouldn’t bleed too.

You focused your eyes on the wound and not on his almost-exposed lap. You had a job to do if you wanted him to survive this. Not wanted really, you needed him to survive for now, so he could die at the right time.

You pressed the injury with your left hand, the protruding blade lodged between your middle and index fingers, and then pulled curtly from the hilt of the sgian-dubh.

Marcus’ eyes flew wide open, a restrained groan ripping his throat. His hand tightly wrapped around your wrist, his arched back slightly off the straw cushion. His orbs were wild with pain — the veins on his neck chiselled on his skin, so pronounced you thought they would explode. You kept the pressure on the wound while pushing him back down onto the bed.

“It’s okay. Relax, I’ve got you,” you tried to calm him down. His big, brown eyes studied you, considering if he should trust you with his life. His fingers were so solidly wrapped around your wrist, you were sure he was restricting your bloodflow. “You have no other option. It’s me or whatever god of the dead you praise,” you muttered, holding his gaze.

With a painful grunt, he let go of your wrist and settled back down. His jaw was so clenched, you were almost worried he would break a tooth.

“Naimh, bring me a stick of wood or something for him to chew on while I stitch him up. And some wine,” you asked of the old woman.

Soon enough you had everything you needed. You offered the woodstick to Marcus, who quickly understood what it was for and opened his mouth. You placed it between his teeth and he bit down on it.

You quickly removed the heel of your hand from the seeping gash and poured wine over it to disinfect it. Marcus hissed in pain, muffled by the stick he was chewing. You patted the area with a rag to clean it and then extended your hand towards Naimh, palm up. She had already threaded the eyed needle.

“This is going to hurt,” you warned him before piercing the first layer of skin.

You focused on the task at hand, blocking out any distractions. The needle was not the sharpest, so you had to really puncture the skin to get it through to the other side — you were sure that Marcus hated every bone of yours every time the blunt tip of the needle stroked his skin.

The wound was very deep, probably too deep for sutures, but you had no other alternative. His attacker had really intended on gutting him like a cow — the skin was ripped around the edges, as if the man had twisted the blade several times once it had already sunk in Marcus’ flesh.

By the time you were done, it still looked gnarly, but at least it wasn’t bleeding so much now. You had been so absorbed in your doing, you had not realised that Marcus had fainted again — probably a combination of blood loss and pain had sent him straight to Aengus’ embrace, God of Dreams.

You knew he was completely unconscious when you pulled the arrow out of his shoulder and followed the same procedure with not a single complaint from him. The starred scar would heal better than the butchering on his tummy. You were no expert, but at least you gave him a fighting chance.

“Naimh, could you prepare one of your concoctions, please? We need to cover the wounds and aid the healing process. Otherwise it’s going to become infected,” you asked while packing away the stuff you had used off her basket.

You saw her shuffling some shelves in search of specific ingredients and let her do her job. After putting away the basket, you walked back to the bed Marcus was splayed on.

What a fucking sight.

The lorica still covered his torso, but you had removed the shoulder plates to have better access to the arrow. The tunic underneath the cuirass that hung from his waist down was ripped apart — you had to so you could patch him up. Just a few inches away, you knew, was the core of his manhood.

You wondered… Better not to dwell there for long.

Then there were his hairy, thick thighs, and a pair of leather sandals plaited around his muscular calves. The man’s anatomy spoke of power, vigour, strength.

Most of his visible skin, along with the tunic and armour, was stained in dry, scarlet blood. The picture in front of you, although suggestive, was gruesome, bordering on sadistic. So, you definitely should not feel the way you did — curious, too curious.

“Here,” Naimh’s offering brought you back. “Apply this to the wounds, should keep any festering at bay.”

“Tapadh leibh a Naimh (thank you),” you thanked her, taking the mortar from her hands.

The mixture looked gooey and greenish — pretty regular, considering there was a ton of aloe vera in it.

“Do you want me to send word to the castle, mo bana-phrionnsa (my princess)?”, she offered, placing a little, fragile hand on your shoulder.

“Aye, if you don’t mind,” a brief pause to jog your memory. “Make sure it reaches Maximus, and Maximus only,” you added.

That commander seemed to be the closest thing to a friend Marcus had here. You had seen them on the dais, exchanging whispers and jests in a brotherly manner. Surely he would be someone Marcus would trust with his life.

“Na gabh dragh, measag (don’t worry, dear). You know my will-o'-wisps only reach those who I command them to,” her voice lowered, a sweet grin painted on her wrinkling face before vanishing through the door.

You knew Naimh came from a long bloodline of druids and sorceresses — she could be found attending to the coirtheachan (standing stones), ensuring they were clean with oblations left at their feet, speaking to animals and trees, or lighting fires with the mere snap of her fingers. Once, as a child, you saw how a wave of her hand over the flames made some sparks flicker away from the bonfire and dance through the air until they disappeared between some trees. The first wisps you had ever seen.

So when Naimh spoke of her will-o’-wisps, you did not question her one bit. You were one hundred percent sure that the message would get to Maximus in record time.

Your attention drifted back to the unconscious man on the bed. You needed to do something about the deplorable state he was in.

His eyelids were so heavy, his mind so foggy, Marcus was not able to open them just yet. Coming back to his senses would take all the strength he had left and that wasn’t much. His limbs felt weighty yet jelly-like too. How damn boorish of him if this was how he greeted death, unable to even shake hands with the Parcae (Fates).

A lifetime of bloodshed and war, and this was how his life would end, away from a real battlefield. What a shame.

His mind kept wandering and almost didn’t register a soft, velvety feeling on his right shin. It was warm and light, and it came and went like a gush of wind. That feeling, that touch, expanded to his thigh, his hip, his tummy, his chest. It was everywhere, right there on the confines on his imagination and on his damn skin.

Weird what the mind would come up with when on its last legs.

Slowly he drifted away again, and when Marcus came back to once more, he wasn’t sure how long it had been. Minutes. Hours. Days?

This time though, his senses flared alive. One more than the others — the sense of touch. The previous warmth, dry before, now was wet. It dripped and dripped, creating a river that ran down his thigh.

The heaviness that had him in a chokehold had softened, and so was able to move one hand, inspecting what that liquid warmth was. Blood?

“Don’t touch,” a firm yet soothing voice warned him.

Something wrapped around his wrist and placed his hand back down on the ground. No, not on the ground… on a bed?

After several attempts, Marcus managed to flutter his eyes open. White vision first, he blinked until the fog dissipated. And then he saw you there, sat by his side — inquiring, green eyes staring him down.

He held your gaze for what seemed like an eternity, while the memories flooded back. The arrow, the attackers, the sword fight, you stabbing that man to his death, the knife deeply lodged in his abdomen. The stitching, the painful stitching.

His eyes drifted down and only then did he realise that he was completely naked. Not even a thin piece of fabric covering him, no — absolutely, fucking nothing. Bare as the day he was fucking born.

Marcus’ eyes quickly shot to yours, his heart pounding wildly, as you held a damp rag on your hand.

“What the—,” he started to complain, his throat dry and coarse.

“No need to panic. I’m just washing the blood off you,” you explained matter-of-factly, unabashed even.

“My armour, my clothes…” was the only thing he managed to mutter.

“Your armour is now clean, and your clothes are drying over there in front of the hearth. I’ve washed them for you. You’re welcome,” you replied sneeringly, rolling your eyes, as you resumed what you were doing prior to being interrupted by his questioning.

You placed the rag back down on his inner thigh and rubbed, the dried blood coming off his skin albeit with some difficulty. Too fucking close to… Fuck, I rather fucking die. He stopped your hand again, teeth gritting.

“I can do this myself,” Marcus protested.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You think I’ve not seen a naked man before? I’m a widow, Marcus. You don’t have anything I have not seen before,” and then you scrubbed his skin some more, moving upwards and stopping just inches shy of his groin.

Marcus held his breath and closed his eyes, summoning all the self-control he could muster. He really had to focus to reign the most primal reaction a man could have when a woman was touching him. He pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose, jaw clenched, as he started counting backwards from one hundred.

The General needed a distraction — if he thought about your hand so damn close to his cock, he would fucking lose it. Would throw you onto that uncomfortable mattress and would fuck some sense into you for playing with fire. Teach you a lesson or two. Maybe three.

As soon as that thought formed, he had to put it out quickly. One would think that a near-death experience would knock some sense into him, but apparently not. He was a damned man.

Your hand moved around his lap languidly, expertly avoiding his not-so-soft-now dick, and focused on rubbing some blood off his lower abdomen. Then the damp rag moved further south, and his heart climbed up to this throat.

His eyes snapped back open, looking for yours, while his fingers gripped your wrist again.

“Is there no blood anywhere else?” his voice sounded strangled, begging almost, letting go of your hand.

“Nay, I’ve already cleaned the rest of your body. I was saving the best for last, Marcus,” you whispered at the same time the rag dragged along the length of his cock.

Then the palm of your hand flattened against his impending erection, the rag forsaken on his thigh now. The little blood he had left in his veins rushed south the moment your delicate fingers wrapped around the girth of his now-throbbing cock.

You just held him there with a tight grip, eyes never leaving his in defiance. Something sinister flicked in the green of your eyes — something mischievous, lustful even, but something really dark too. Your lips were slightly parted with an intransigent smile.

“How’re you feeling? Any pain?” You dared to ask, as if you weren’t the source of his pain.

Because the only real pain he felt was all gathered on his thudding dick. Feeling his agony, you stroked him once, twice… until you were pumping him decisively, shamelessly. Your thumb caressed his glans, buttering it with his own precum.

A moan tore through Marcus’ chest, rumbling — eyes closed, letting himself rejoice in the moment. Your fingers tight around his thick shaft, putting the right amount of pressure, sent him into oblivion. His erection just became harder and harder, steely as his gladius, under your diligent care.

Marcus felt the tension building up, his balls contracting with equal parts of pain and pleasure. His erection beat rhythmically with his heart — your strokes a blessing in disguise, sent to him to release the pressure building up at the bottom of his spine. You were working him so well, so dextrously, so deliciously, he didn’t know how much longer would he last.

“I wonder if it is as tasty as it looks…” you whispered in his ear as you crouched down a little, your lips grazing his skin.

The mere image of your mouth sealed around his manhood wrecked him. So fucking much, he was close to coming just with one single fucking handjob.

And then the door swung open, making both of you jump on the spot. You quickly removed your hand from his lap and Marcus almost died at the realisation that he would not find relief tonight.

As you turned around on your seat to face the door, you threw a blanket over his lap to disguise what had really been happening.

“Naimh is back,” you exclaimed giddily to him, standing up to greet her in your language.

Fuck Naimh. Kick her out, come back.

@orcasoul @immyowndefender @sjc7542 @fairiebabey

@thepalaceofmelanie @harriedandharassed @whoaitspascal87 @mewantpeepaw

@verybigvag @jessthebaker @ivoryandflame @missadangel @pepperstories

[recaltera]

i need, and i'm also begging, for some writing or scenario for Francisco that might involve him forcing eye contact, while he's fing*ring reader and praising her at the same time, please!!

fingering with fran…

pairing: fran romero x fem reader

🏷️ smut (minors dni), fingering, praising

a/n: omg i love this request sm his fingers ar eliterally perfect for this

there was just something he loved about feeling your walls contract around his fingers, how at first it would be difficult for him to introduce one of his fingers into your awaiting hole because you were so tight, after a while as he sucked on your neck and rubbed your clit in circles with his other hand you would loosen up, letting him fuck his fingers in and out of your pussy making wet sounds ring around your shared bedroom.

he watched your every move intently, studied your body, learning what pleases you and what makes you scream in pleasure, this is how you would end up every day you got home frustrated from work. he knew exactly what you wanted when you threw yourself onto him as soon as you stepped into the apartment, straddling his lap and wrapping your hands around his neck, giving him a hard passionate make out as you grind your wet core down on his cock making him groan.

fran forced you to watch him no matter how hard it was for you to keep your eyes open while his fingers were hitting that spongy spot inside of you and your clit was being messily rubbed by his other hand. “open your eyes, princess. eyes on me. i want to see your pretty face when you cum for me” because you always tend to hide your face on his neck as you reach your climax. you are not sure why tho, you weren’t ashamed or anything it was just a reaction by default and he would always let it pass.

this night was different tho, he knew you were close he could feel your walls spasm ing around his slim long fingers. grabbing your face roughly and squishing your cheeks making your lips pout. “if you close your eyes im going to stop, princess so better keep them open this time” . as soon as your orgasm hit you did everything in your hands to keep your eyes on fran, watching him watch you, he enjoyed every second of it. talking you throught it “good girl, you are doing such a good job” as he rode out your high, “you sound so pretty when you cum, angel” he would whisper in your ear as you were floating around cloud nine still in your post orgasm high.

letting him fuck you with his fingers was probably the best part of your frustrated days, sometimes you would fake it just so he could play with you, he knew when it wasn’t real tho. he still played along because he just loves feeling you around him in any possible way.

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

obligatory end of the year thank you post

thanks to everybody who followed and interacted ever since i started this sideblog - i'm enjoying writing very much at the moment, bringing my delulus to life, and it makes me happy to see that other people enjoy my silly drabbles as well - i really appreciate you all <3

Guten Rutsch (literally 'good slide (over to the new year)') as you say in german and a happy and healthy new year!

What would it be like to spend New Year's Eve with König?

This was brought to you by these pictures of Peter Steele with that fucking cap on and the fact that metalhead!König (like every König, really) would be so desperate to have you sitting on his face.

(cw: nsfw mdni, smutty smutt, bit of butt stuff)

“What are you doing?”, I ask him, surprise painting my voice. I just walked back into the living room where we’ve been sitting, listening to music, drinking red wine, waiting for the new year to start.

“Nothing.”, he says, the typical devilish grin playing around the corners of his mouth. It sure doesn’t look like nothing.

He’s lounging on his couch. The black shirt that had been buttoned up all evening isn’t buttoned up anymore, showing off his chest that is wrapped in a harness. The sleeves are rolled up, his tattooed forearms on full display. Handcuffs around his wrists, the ones with the soft cuffs that he already used on me once or twice. A leather cap sitting on top of his head. His long dark hair flowing over his shoulders.

I stare at him with a slacked jaw which makes him chuckle. “Like what you’re seeing, huh?”, he asks teasingly. I nod, finally picking up my chin from the floor, coming closer. He’s looking like a kinkily wrapped up present, waiting patiently for me to finally do something with him. To him.

“Lie down.”, I tell him briefly, and he does as I order, lying down on the soft cushions, his legs hanging over the one side of the couch because even his own furniture isn’t big enough for him.

I get rid of my clothes in an instant, climbing over him. Hovering my pussy in front of his face, while I place my thighs beside his head.

I smile down at him, teasing him, by pulling back up when he goes to nudge his nose against the wet folds. He groans, jerking up a bit, which lets the leather cap topple from his head. I take it and put it own my own head, grinning at him teasingly. His bound wrists keep him from taking what he wants.

“Please just fucking sit on my face.”, he groans, sounding desperate.

“So impatient.”, I reprimand him, getting up again, giving him a full view of everything without a chance to put his mouth on me.

“You’re killing me.”, he whines which puts a sly smile on my lips. But I finally do as he wants placing my pussy on his face. Still hovering a bit to let him breathe.

“Sit down.”, he growls against the wetness, lapping at it, dipping his tongue into me.

“I don’t wanna suffocate you.”, I protest, and the look he gives me lying there under me speaks volumes.

“I said, fucking sit, don’t worry about me.”, he repeats his words. And I follow his order, pressing my wet pussy onto his lips, letting my weight come down.

The hum I feel against my core is deep and satisfied as he starts to really lick and suck, nibbling at my clit, pushing his tongue into me repeatedly.

I hold onto the armrest in front of me, moving my hips at my own pace, grinding against his mouth, desperately looking for release.

He shimmies down a bit until he’s not eating my pussy anymore, but my ass. I look down in surprise, his hungry gaze up at me a clear indicator that he’s content where he is. Oh god. My thighs start to shake when his tongue dips inside me, fucking my ass. Oh fuck. My hand wanders to my clit, my fingers feverishly circling it, as I’m chasing the high. I cum on top of him, the gushing wetness hitting his face as he laps up everything I give him.

“I need to be inside you.”, he pleads, finally coming up for air again, and I get up from his face and free his wrists – something he could have easily done himself, but he was waiting for me to do.

As soon as he’s free though, he lifts me, puts me down on the couch, my back against the soft cushions, and pulls out his dick. He groans as he grabs it, looking painfully hard, precum smeared all over his tip. I grin up at him, a bratty comment already on the tip of my tongue.

It falters when he pushes my legs back and lines his dick up, pressing it into me. The sultry smirk on my face contorts to an O, mewls dropping from my lips as I stretch around him, until he bottoms me out, the familiar sting of pain dissipating into pleasure. Taking his length still has me struggling a tiny bit every time, but I relish the feeling that comes after.

"Good girl.", he coos, stealing back the leather cap placing it on his head again, then he places his hands right beside my head on the back of the couch. The praise washes over me, letting me relax around him, then he starts to roll his hips against me, fucking me into the cushions.

I scramble to hold on with the pace he’s going at, my hands clawing at his pecs and stomach, leaving red streaks, until I get his harness into my grip, my fingers clasping onto the soft leather strap in the front. My moans and his grunts, accompanied by the hard slapping of skin against skin, intermingle with the music still playing from the speakers.

We get carried away and miss the countdown to the new year, though the sound and lights from fireworks in the distance outside should have given us a hint.

When we look at the time again, it’s already 00:34, but it doesn’t matter. König only complains for a little bit, that apparently we didn’t hear the most important bell in Austria – the Pummerin – ring in the new year. I tell him he better stop complaining about missing the sound of a bell over being ballsdeep in my pussy.

Which only makes him laugh. He takes my chin between his thumb and pointer and kisses me slow and sweet to make me shut up, also getting his new year’s kiss for good luck. Then he looks for a song on his phone. When I ask what he’s doing, he tells me he wants to dance the Wiener Walzer with me. To An der schönen blauen Donau by Johann Strauß Jr.

“It’s tradition.”, he explains.

“But I don’t know how to do the waltz.”, I say, looking up at him all confused, still trying to puzzle the two together, the huge tattooed man and dancing the waltz.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”, he says, grabbing me and showing me the position you’re supposed to do a waltz in. Putting my left hand on his shoulder which makes me dig the fingertips into the ink covered skin. Putting his right hand on my lower back, letting it drop deeper than it actually supposed to go. I shoot him a look, but he only smiles at me apologetically. Bringing our other hands together. Then he shows me the steps. The “Down, Up, Up”. Leading me in the dance.

So, we dance the Wiener Walzer together, rather poorly, but that doesn’t matter.

He’s still in his harness and jeans, the stupidly hot cap on his head. I put on his shirt, haphazardly buttoning up the front. That’s how we twirl through the living room, both barefoot and a little tipsy.

I stumble over his feet which makes us both trip and we almost tumble onto the floor. He catches me though, the strong arms wrapping around my waist.

I start laughing and I can’t stop anymore, lying in his arms giggling. Grinning from one ear to the other. He joins in until we’re both holding our stomachs with how hard we’re laughing. I look up at him again, the way he’s looking at me is taking my breath away and my heart is just so fucking full.

We dance some more, we drink some more and we fuck some more. Truly, this man is insatiable. Until we finally fall into bed in the early morning hours.

I thought he might have the decency to let us sleep in, but apparently, we need to watch the Neujahrskonzert by the Vienna Philharmonics. That’s tradition as well.

That’s how we sit in front of the TV, all bundled up in a blanket. My head hurts from the little hangover I have because I don’t do well with red wine. And my pussy is sore which I complain to him about playfully, but he only asks me if he needs to kiss it better. I roll my eyes and smack his right pec, which pulls a laugh from his lips.

I snuggle into him, watching the classical concert, and think about how I don’t ever want to leave his arms again.

I couldn't resist putting in some Austrian New Year's traditions... so if you're interested: info on the new year's concert here and here, where to possibly watch it tomorrow here, video of the The Blue Danube Waltz with the Pummerin at the start and the ballet company of the Vienna State Opera dancing here - thanks for reading <3

~ More Stuff in the Masterlist ~

[venus-haze]

No Other Gods Before Me (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Love is everything. Love is God. Homelander is love. Maybe you are, too. 

Note: Gender neutral supe reader, and no descriptors are used. Takes place in season 1 during the Believe Expo. Inspired by Starlight’s comment that she didn’t have a crush on Homelander growing up because “he was like Jesus or something.” I'm sorry it took me so long to write another Homelander fic! Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Extremely unhealthy relationship, power imbalance (unclear as to who, as the reader has unspecified psychic powers), warped elements of Christianity. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander saw them clear as day. The tears welling up in your eyes as you walked down to the baptismal pool. He barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. For all of his pandering, he was never fond of religious types–especially religious supes. You should know better than to buy into this bullshit, a cheap substitute for simple minds that couldn’t comprehend the modern gods that put the miracles of every religious text to shame.

Still, he held out his gloved hand for you to take, and you did, gingerly, as if his physical presence would be too much to bear. 

Homelander had his fair share of admirers, but the reverent gleam in your eyes was nothing short of disarming. His name came from your lips in a soft, pious prayer before you hit the water.

You emerged from the chlorinated depths reborn, staring at him in a moment of blissful awe. “You are love,” you whispered, only loud enough so he could hear. And it stunned him. So much so that he couldn’t protest when you were ushered out of the pool, wet clothes clinging indecently to your skin. You disappeared with your fresh towel, and he resisted the urge to drown the rest of the devout in line to find you.

There was still time. Believe Expo wasn’t quite over yet. Surely you’d still be milling about, in some ridiculous prayer circle or buying one of the cheap trinkets the numerous grifters shilled. He’d never read the Bible, not all of it. Bits and pieces to understand what people were talking about, and a few feel-good verses up his sleeve for speeches and interviews. None of it made him understand what all of the fuss was about, anyway. Why his birthday wasn’t a months-long celebration, a cultural phenomenon. All Vought gave him was a TV special and a cake. It wasn’t the spectacular frenzy that people anticipated all year.

His fists clenched. 

He found a volunteer who didn’t look all that busy, and offered a selfie with them before asking a favor. People would do just about anything for him, regardless, but posing his demands as if they were helping him out tended to get things done faster. As soon as the words left his mouth, the volunteer set off to find you. He retreated to his dressing room, waiting impatiently for your arrival.

“Isn’t he wonderful?” you asked, your distant voice growing louder as you approached.

“Homelander’s the best,” the volunteer agreed.

“Don’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“That warmth when you’re in his presence, something divine.”

“Well, he was chosen by God.”

“You don’t get it at all, do you,” you said, disappointment evident in your voice, just on the other side of his dressing room door.

He tried not to appear too eager when you entered, though you were in different clothes than before. Couldn’t expect you to spend the rest of the day walking around in soaking wet clothes, though part of him hoped you would.

“I knew we’d see each other again,” you said, not at all surprised by him summoning you.

He tilted his head, regarding you with suspicion. You didn’t seem like you were fucking with him, but he couldn’t be sure. “In the baptismal pool, you said I was love.”

You nodded. “Love is eternal. Love can conquer anything.”

“Love is God,” he said.

“I prayed to you, because I knew you could hear me,” you confessed quietly. “You’re the one.”

Your sincerity was genuine, the way your heart beat in time for him, tearful eyes glistening with an unprecedented devotion. Without an outstretched, gloved hand, he cupped your cheek, caressing it in his first act of blessing. Anointing you first. A ragged breath emerged from his parted lips. His dove, his lamb, his to guide and nurture the way these abstract figments couldn’t. You would be his Mary Magdalene, his Saint Paul, unceasingly devoted in your worship of him, proselytizing the good word to the masses. 

And why shouldn’t they worship him? Look at him with the same admiration and awe that you did? Power in the blood, his blood, to save and damn as he saw fit. After all, he didn’t need to die to offer salvation. No great sacrifices on his part to provide for those who were worthy. The sky had been empty when he explored it, all the way up past the atmosphere, farther than anyone could possibly go until he reached the vast emptiness of space itself and found himself alone. Homelander wasn’t an unknowable god. He walked among the masses, pandered to their sensitivities because he knew just how small and insignificant they were.

He’d read about the more extreme acts of devotion to gods in the past. Self-flagellation. Human sacrifice. Vows of poverty. Pathetic and desperate attempts to appease a supposedly powerful higher being who did nothing to help his people when they cried out for him. But Homelander was there. And just like you’d said, he could hear everything. He required so much less of people yet offered so much more. 

“You’re the only one who sees me for what I am,” he murmured. 

You nodded gently, your cheek rubbing against his glove. 

He leaned in to kiss you, and you reciprocated without hesitation, pressing your lips to his, allowing yourself unprecedented closeness with the divine. Consume and be healed, forgiven, saved. Kissing you felt purposeful, made his heart race and his brain feel fuzzy.

Warmth washed over him, and for a moment the suspicious part of him wondered if this divine haze was related to your powers. Something about being able to get into people’s heads, mess with their emotions. He wasn’t sure. There was no reason for you to be on his radar before the spiritual encounter.

When you whispered his name against his lips like a prayer, he nearly choked. Devout. Unconditional. He held onto you tightly, lips attached to yours in his own act of worship.

Love was everything. Love was God. Homelander was love. Maybe you were, too.