#great candidate for fix it fic

[hb-writes]

Forgot how so much of Season 3 of A Discovery of Witches is just basically a way to properly hurt my own feelings on behalf of my baby boy, Gallowglass. 😭😭😭

[sweetlemontart]

call me by his name | yoon jeonghan [M]

summary ⇾ to you, one of jeonghan's most admirable trait is his candid nature. he's straightforward with most people—if he's angry, they'll definitely know. but with you? he'd rather swim the ocean day and night than take his anger out on you. well, that is, of course, unless you ask him to.

PAIRING // yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

GENRE // explicit smut, established relationship, some fluff, mostly smut, sub!reader, jeonghan tries to be angry hard!dom but is actually a soft!dom cause he's too in love with mc, not much plot tbh mostly just smut

WARNING // 18+, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex and fingering (f receiving), degradation, choking, hair pulling, some spanking, creampie, slight dacryphilia, orgasm denial(?) ig, mentions of mc's past relationship with ex!seungcheol

WORD COUNT // 8.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE // me casually coming back on here and posting after almost 2 years of radio silence (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡ btw this is my very first svt fic hehe i started liking them like a month ago? watching going svt is the only thing keeping me sane during my second year of uni :') i love jeonghan and all his manipulating mind games & cheating ways, it's the most attractive thing to me !! might drop a wonwoo fic soon too bcs he's a cutie and his wip is coming along nicely. hope u guys have been doing good hehe do like and reblog if u enjoy reading this, song rec is blue foundation - eyes on fire (skeler remix)

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Jeonghan isn't a particularly placid man. He's not excessively ill-tempered per se, but he is remarkably patient when it comes to you. You know how he is when he's angry, and you can't recall a single time when you've been on the receiving end of his wrath. 

When something ticks him off, his eyes will darken and the heated stare he gives is shrouded beneath his lashes. When he is truly livid, he'll usually walk away from the situation, and there'll be no room for anyone to say something they'll end up regretting later on. 

It's incredible, really, that he possesses the ability to bottle his anger up when it involves you. Anger is an emotion that can rarely be suppressed, but Jeonghan does it with remarkable ease. 

On any other day, perhaps you'd appreciate his effort to control his anger, but not tonight. You've made a serious mistake, one that goes against the one thing Jeonghan had explicitly stated from the start of your relationship—keeping secrets is a recipe for a failed relationship, so if you have something important to say, just say it. Jeonghan is a great boyfriend. He gives you the freedom and privacy to do things you want to do, but this particular boundary was crystal clear, and you just crossed it.

It was your fault, really. You had broken up with Choi Seungcheol only a year prior to dating Jeonghan. The break-up had been a mutual agreement, and there were no hard feelings involved. Over time, you gradually drifted apart and had minimal to no contact until... well, two weeks ago. 

It had been at a dinner party hosted by one of your acquaintances, someone who just happened to be Seungcheol's cousin. Jeonghan hadn't been able to accompany you, so you hadn't been able to introduce him to Seungcheol. Meeting Seungcheol again after more than a year hadn't been awkward. It was like meeting up with an old friend. 

Tonight, however, the universe seems like it's conspiring against you. You had been preparing dinner when you heard a notification chime on your phone. You had haphazardly tossed your phone onto the living room couch before cooking, and your boyfriend just happened to be doing his Lego in the living room, so you called out to him to check the notification. 

There was shuffling in the living room as he stood. When he strolled into the kitchen, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he held your phone in one hand, eyes fixed on the screen. "Who's Choi Seungcheol and why is he asking to catch up over lunch?"

Fuck. 

To be fair, you really weren't expecting Seungcheol to contact you after the dinner party. You had gone without contacting each other for more than a year, so what changed now? You had told him that you found someone new, so he definitely knew there was no possibility of rekindling your relationship. He was most likely trying to be friendly, but you understand why it would seem questionable to Jeonghan. 

Contrary to what you expected, Jeonghan hadn't gotten angry at you. He simply listened to your explanation and nodded. He became quiet, a glazed look in his eyes that you couldn't interpret. Then, he sets your phone down on the kitchen counter and hummed. Oh, he was annoyed, that much was obvious. 

"Okay, well, I trust you. Just... don't do it again," Jeonghan spoke with a slight frown, then walked out of the kitchen as though you hadn't just violated the one, single rule that you had both agreed to abide by. 

Perhaps you've gone stupid, because as your boyfriend walked out of the kitchen, you found yourself trailing close behind him. A tinge of irritation slowly bubbled up in your chest as you watched him casually plop down onto the floor to continue doing the Lego set he had been doing since earlier. 

"Is that it?" you asked him. 

Jeonghan momentarily diverted his attention from his Lego to meet your gaze. He blinked a few times. "I'm sorry?"

"You just... you're not even getting angry at me?"

"Um, am I supposed to be angry at you?"

You were taken aback by his response because it suddenly occurred to you just how silly you sounded. Did you really want him to get angry at you?

"Yes?"

Jeonghan nodded wordlessly, seemingly mulling over something in his head. 

"I made a mistake, you should be mad at me."

There was a pregnant pause before he chuckled, but there was nothing humorous about it. If anything, it sounded a little... sinister. "You want me to get mad at you, baby? Want me to show you how I'm really feeling?"

You swallowed. Suddenly, you felt small under the weight of his unyielding stare. You shouldn't have nodded, shouldn't have ever said anything about it at all, because now, Jeonghan has you on the bed, doing the one thing you had practically begged him to do—take his anger out on you. 

"G-God, please..." You're not sure what it is you're begging for. It's hard to think straight when Jeonghan is between your legs, lapping at your dripping cunt with his tongue. He had warned you not to touch him, but after several attempts of burying your fingers into his silky hair, he decided to take matters into his own hand, grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to your heaving chest. 

Your fingers continuously curl and uncurl against your chest, desperately trying to grab at something to ground yourself. The pleasure coursing through you makes your head spin, your mouth feeling as dry as cotton as you continue to chant your boyfriend's name. 

Jeonghan hums against you, mouth suckling at your swollen bundle of nerves. Your jaw drops open at the feeling, eyes screwing shut as you let a moan slip past your lips. He repeats the cycle a few more times—kissing, sucking, licking—until you feel the familiar knot tightening in your stomach. 

To your disappointment, Jeonghan withdraws his mouth from you but is quick to replace it with his fingers. He's familiar with your body by now, knowing what gives you the most pleasure and which spots to press to have you coming undone in minutes. 

He's rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb, middle and ring fingers ghosting over your hole, not dipping in, only lingering there to serve as a reminder of the control he has over you. "Keep your hands there," he says, squeezing at your wrists once as a warning. Then he lets go of your hands and settles his palm on the inside of your thigh, spreading you open further. 

"Jeonghan..." you whimper, legs beginning to shake as the telltale sign of your climax begins to show. 

"I need you to cum on my fingers once before you can have my cock," he says, voice coming out huskier than normal. 

Straining your neck, you peer down at your boyfriend with half-lidded eyes, only to feel a rush of heat in your stomach when you see that he's already looking at you. In the dim light of your bedside lamp, you can just make out his blown-out pupils, almost obscured beneath the strands of dark hair falling over his forehead. His lips curl up into a wicked smirk, and your focus shifts from his eyes to the way his mouth glistens with your wetness. It feels so shameful, but the sight only makes you drip even more. 

"My angel wants me to be angry at her, right?" he asks you, pressing down harder on your clit, which makes you yelp with surprise, head dropping back onto your pillow. 

"Don't stop, please, I'm cumming... F-Fuck!" It's all you manage to say as you begin to writhe under Jeonghan's hold.

He clicks his teeth in disapproval when you shift your hands from your chest to your sides, fingers tightly grabbing at the bedsheet, twisting at it recklessly. He lets it slide, however, knowing you're trying your best not to touch him like he knows you so desperately want to. 

His ring finger dips into your hole just slightly, and the stretch isn't much, but it makes you keen anyway, breath catching in your throat as he plunges it deeper and deeper until it reaches his knuckle. He doesn't move it after that, keeping it buried there as he continues to play with your clit. 

"I've barely even started and you're already like this," he says in a mocking tone, teasingly biting down at your plush thigh. "Go ahead and cum for me, then. Show me how much you want my cock, baby..."

Your body caves to his words. The knot in your stomach snaps, and you cum with a loud moan that you don't even attempt to hide. Without warning, Jeonghan promptly replaces his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking hard, prolonging the pleasure. He doesn't mind the way your whole body is trembling or the way your thighs try to snap shut. 

"H-Hannie, fuck... fuck..."

The way you're mumbling out incoherent words only makes the blood rush down to his cock. He's painfully hard in his pants, wanting nothing more than to sink himself right into your tight pussy. It's getting increasingly difficult to think with his head than his dick. His self-restraint is starting to fray at the edge. 

"That's it, baby..." he mumbles, removing his ring finger from inside you, grinning when your hole tries to suck the digit back in. 

With his index and middle finger, Jeonghan spreads your pussy lips apart, ignoring your whine of protest as he continues to stare at your soaked cunt. It's humiliating to be so exposed and vulnerable like this, but why do you enjoy it so much? 

Jeonghan snickers, warm breath hitting your bare pussy. "Baby, I wish you could see yourself right now. Your cute pussy is clenching around nothing."

With a sheepish whine, you splay your hands over your face, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Hannie..." you grumble, hoping he would show you some compassion and stop teasing. But of course, Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't just stop there. You should know better by now that there is no one in the world more cunning and sly than your boyfriend. 

Jeonghan pushes himself up into a sitting position, sighing when he sees the way you've covered your face. He doesn't like it when you hide from him but surprisingly doesn't say anything about it. 

When you feel him shift on the bed, your curiosity gets the best of you. Peering cautiously through the gaps of your fingers, you're left dumbfounded at the sight of your boyfriend tugging his shirt over his head. The wisps of his dark hair that had been snagged by the shirt are left askew, and the view would be endearing if it wasn't for the devious look in his eyes as he looks at you. 

Then he stands, and for a second, you're afraid he might leave you there. It wouldn't be unlike Jeonghan to suddenly leave. He's unpredictable, always trying to be a step ahead of everyone. This time, however, all he does is stand by the end of the bed, eyes roaming over your exposed figure as if trying to determine the next course of action that will deliver the most favourable outcome for him. Damn him and his mind games.

With slow movement, you press your legs together, concealing your most intimate part from your boyfriend. He shakes his head in disapproval, but you make no move to rectify your mistake. It's impossible not to hide from him when he's looking down at you as though he wants to devour you inch by inch—like a lion ogling at a wounded deer. 

Very slowly, he begins to undo the string of his sweatpants. It aggravates you to see how composed he is, movements unhurried as if he doesn't see just how much you need him. Surely he notices how your eyes rove over his bare torso, committing to memory every little detail about his body even if you've seen it myriad times before. He's not particularly muscular; he's more lean than anything, elegant, and refined in all the right places. It only makes the waiting feel even more agonising. 

"Don't tease, Hannie, please," you plead, your pulse quickening when he finally steps out of his pants. 

"Don't tease? Aw, princess, you were the one getting all friendly with your ex, and now you want me to treat you like a good girl who hasn't been whoring around behind my back?" His tone is condescending, sending a surge of electricity up your spine.  

You're suddenly reminded of what landed you in the current predicament in the first place. You want to explain and justify yourself, but you're rendered speechless when Jeonghan sweeps a hand down over his torso, eventually wrapping around his hard cock. He tugs once, twice, hissing slightly at the much-needed contact, smearing pre-cum all over the tip and shaft, the ring on his pinky glinting in the low light. 

Sitting upright, you're about to speak and deny his previous statement, but the words die down in your throat when he suddenly climbs onto the bed, slowly crawling closer to you.

You squeak in surprise when he grabs at one of your legs, tugging you down just slightly so that your face is parallel to his. Then, he settles himself between your legs, cock pressed against your stomach. He has you right where he wants you. 

Jeonghan captures your lips in a kiss, wasting no time to slip his tongue into your mouth, tangling it with yours. You sigh into his mouth, tasting the remnants of your wetness on his tongue and lips. It's a pleasant mix of bitter and sweet, a combination that makes you feel dazed despite the fact that he hasn't done anything to you yet. 

Jeonghan sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, relishing the way you mewl. He starts pressing wet kisses onto your jaw, trailing down to your neck and collarbone. "You smell so good, pretty," he mumbles against your skin, licking at your sternum. 

Reaching a hand down, you grab at his hard cock, wanting nothing more than for him to slip himself inside. You're sure you're dripping down onto the bedsheet by now. Jeonghan, however, has other plans. You only get to pump him twice before he slaps your hand away, pinning your wrist to the bed. "Don't act like such an impatient whore..."

Your whine of protest trails out into a moan when Jeonghan suddenly wraps his mouth around your nipple. His mouth is hot against the sensitive bud, and the light grazes of his teeth against it makes you arch your back. 

Jeonghan's eyes suddenly meet yours, hooded with lust. He's suckling so noisily, hips grinding into yours. It's so obscene—the way he's looking at you, the sounds he's making, the way his balls press down on your clit whenever he grinds into you. Feeling overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensory, you turn your head to the side, burying your face into your pillow as you huff out a shaky breath. 

You should've known Jeonghan wouldn't be too pleased with this. He withdraws his mouth from your chest with a lewd pop. His hand leaves your wrist in favour of grabbing at your chin. His grip is harsh, but not enough to hurt. With a sharp yank, he forces you to face forward, where you have no other choice than to meet his eyes. 

He clicks his tongue disappointedly, and your eyes flick down to his lips, red and puffy from sucking. This doesn't help your case at all, because Jeonghan immediately starts vigorously shaking your face left and right, compelling you to look back into his eyes. Your head feels dizzy, but you don't miss the look in his eyes. There's irritation swirling in them now, imbued with desire and the hunger to ravage your body until you're left a broken, muddled mess. It makes you shudder, legs squeezing tight on each side of his hips. 

"You know better than to hide from me, right?" His thumb caresses the skin of your jaw. The touch is so soft, a stark contrast to the way he's glaring down at you. When you take a little too long to answer, Jeonghan taps at your cheek a few times, hard enough for you to feel the sting. 

"Y-Yes..."

He coos, stroking your stinging cheek. "Mhm, but you're not behaving very well tonight, are you?"

"I've been good, Hannie," you assert, trying to maintain your composed front even though you desperately need him to fill you to the brim. You're aching, and you need his cock to soothe the pain. Noticing his sceptical gaze, you decide to reword your sentence. "I'm sorry. I'll be good, I promise."

Jeonghan is thinking about something, silently plotting something in his head. Fuck, you're screwed now. The intensity of his gaze tells you he's about to do something that's unlikely to be in your favour.

"You want to hide from me that bad, hm?"

You're quick to shake your head. "No, Hannie, I want you to see me."

Jeonghan scowls, pecking your lips once before sitting up on his knees. "On your stomach."

You frown, dread washing over you. He knows how much you loathe that position. "Jeonghan, please, no..."

Jeonghan's face remains impassive. "I won't ask you twice."

"You know I take a long time to cum when I can't see your face," you grumble, feeling your stomach churn, chest tightening. 

"Who said you were cumming tonight?"

The question sends you into a frenzy. "Please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please, please..."

When Jeonghan has his mind set on something, no amount of begging or grovelling will sway him. He's glowering at you, and three seconds pass before you relent. Having his cock inside you is better than nothing at all. 

"There you go, baby," he says when you finally shift onto your stomach. He's quick to straddle your thighs. "Wasn't so hard, was it?" 

You say nothing, feeling sulky now that you can't look at your boyfriend's pretty face anymore. "Angh!" you yelp when you feel a spank on your ass. Jeonghan does it a few more times, rubbing the tender skin between each hit. The touch should be soothing, but it only makes your ass burn even more, raw from his smacking.

Gritting your teeth from the tantalizing sting, you bite back an apology, knowing it's probably the last thing Jeonghan wants from you. Saying sorry would only make it worst for you. He's testing you, pushing the boundaries to see how much you can endure before you break and plead for some semblance of his kindness. The longer you hold out, the better. 

You feel him dip his head down, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale to breathe in your smell. The fragrance of your perfume and natural scent is exhilarating. He wants to stay there and breathe you in all day, fill his lungs with your sweet scent so that he can still smell you even when you're miles away from him. 

A groan rumbles in his chest, you can feel it on your upper back, can hear it right beside your ear. He starts pressing kisses down your shoulder blade, digging his teeth into the smooth flesh. 

"Keep your head down," he warns you, as though he knows about your urge to turn and look at him. He sits up, his knees on each side of your legs, willowy fingers kneading your hips. 

You whine into your pillow, eyes brimming with frustrated tears. Your whole body is trembling, yearning to see him, touch him, tug on the silken strands of his dark hair. God, just the thought of it has slick gushing out of your throbbing hole. 

"I'll be good," you promise him, voice coming out breathy, desperation bleeding through. "Just, please..." you beg, quietly moaning when you feel Jeonghan's hands on your inner thighs, spreading your legs just enough for him to comfortably press the tip of his leaking cock onto your cunt. 

You hear him chuckle when your whole body stiffens, anticipating the moment when he'll finally fuck you full. He sighs to himself, looking at the way your pussy is all coated in your wetness, slick gushing out onto his cockhead as he brushes it over your clit. 

"Hmm, but you only behave after you're caught doing something bad, isn't that right?"

You don't answer, unsure whether you should defend yourself or agree with his question. You gasp when you feel him slide in just slightly, stretching you out, tip prodding at your gummy walls just enough to make you feel the agonizing stretch. "More, Hannie," you mutter, practically drooling at the prospect that it would only take a roll of his hips for him to fill you up. 

However, the delicious stretch never comes, and you're left there feeling stupid, panting with only his tip buried inside of you. You whine once, lifting your head to look back at him. Big mistake. You've barely craned your neck before you feel his hand pushing down onto the crown of your head, fingers yanking at your mussed-up hair, shoving the side of your face back into the pillow. 

With a growl, Jeonghan leans down to press his lips against your ear. "What's with you today, princess? You've always been such a good girl for me, but you keep pushing my fucking buttons today. You want me angry, hm? Is that what you want?"

His crude words shouldn't make you feel the way you do, but when he speaks, his hot breath against your ear makes your eyes roll back, pussy clenching around the tip of his cock, desperate to suck more of him in. You respond with a quiet apology, voice quivering from the arousal wracking through your body. You crave him, ache for him like a desert thirsts for rain. "Need you..."

Then, as if he senses your distress, he decides to show you some mercy. Little by little, he slides into you, slipping in easily, aided by the wetness seeping out of your pulsating hole. He ignores the way you call out his name with a shattered gasp, slowly pressing forward until his hips are flush against your ass and his cock is snug in your heat, buried to the hilt. 

You can feel Jeonghan's groan rumbling in his chest, and the noise makes your pussy clamp down on him tighter. You're fisting at the bedsheet, feeling relieved, desperate, and frantic all at the same time. God, why isn't he moving? You want him to fuck you into the bed, want him to ruin you, use you until you can barely remember your name. 

Perhaps this is Jeonghan's way of taking his anger out on you—tormenting you until you're reduced to nothing but a sputtering, drooling wreck. Maybe he wants to see you plead, beg. Or maybe, he wants you to curse him out, chastise him, berate him for putting you through this torture.

Afraid of further repercussions, you decide to patiently wait, clenching your teeth to bite back from begging him to move. Seconds seem to drag on endlessly, and you resort to imagining the sight you'd be met with if you were to turn around. Would you see Jeonghan's face contorted into a mixture of frustration and hunger? Would his eyes be crazed and heated? Maybe he's enjoying the excruciating wait, peering down at you with an amused grin, tongue peeking out to rest against his lower lip just slightly. You're dying to know. 

Then, as if he is satisfied with your unwavering determination to remain still for him, he loosens his hold on your hair, gently brushing the dishevelled strands back. His thumb extends out to stroke at the tendrils of baby hair stuck to your temple, damp with perspiration. "You want me to move, baby?"

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you have half a mind to consider saying yes, but a nagging feeling tells you it might be a trick question. Jeonghan must've sensed your apprehension because you hear him chuckle. 

Without any warning, he draws his hips back, pulling out until only his tip remains inside before plunging in again. Your jaw slackens into a silent moan. The lack of stimulation has made your body feel so attuned to his, sensitive to every little movement. You feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, feel his breath on your neck, and the ridges of the veins on his cock against your pussy. 

"It's not a trick question, you know?"

You're quick to nod your head as best as you can. "Please move," you breathe out, feeling like you're on the verge of just turning around and demanding him to fuck you the way you both need it. 

His hand grapples onto the sheets by your head, delivering another thrust into your cunt. His movement is languid, as though he wants to take his time. It's driving you crazy, just how collected he seems compared to you. Your body feels as though it's burning, lit ablaze by his kisses, touches, and every single point of contact between his skin and yours. 

Your eyes zero in on his hand propped up on the bed, right in front of your eyes, honing in on the way the sheets bunch between his fingers and the way his ring sits snug on his pinky. Subconsciously, you reach out for it, fingertips digging into his knuckles, nails pinching into the skin when he thrusts again. The movement is more rushed this time, jostling you up on the bed just a little, which makes you gasp. 

He removes your hand from him, hurriedly pressing your palm into the bed, cradling your hand from behind, his fingers sliding through the spaces of yours to intertwine them. The gesture feels so intimate, and it leaves you feeling disoriented. "Fuck, Hannie, so good..."

Jeonghan chuckles, peppering kisses all over your bare shoulder, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake wherever his lips meet your skin. "I've barely even started, baby."

Jeonghan pushes himself up onto his knees, letting go of your hand to place both his hands on your hips. He doesn't miss the way you groan at the loss of his warmth on your back, but he dismisses it. He pushes in once, twice, his gaze fixed on the point where his cock keeps appearing and disappearing into your drenched cunt. 

You barely register it when Jeonghan hauls you up onto your hands and knees, lost in the thought of him, only comprehending the situation when he once again slides into your aching pussy. You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, elbows buckling, almost sending your face flopping back into your pillow. 

Jeonghan doesn't feel the need to take it slow anymore. His thrusts are no longer feeble, and his pace is steady. The sound of skin meeting skin fills his ears, mixed with your broken moans. It sounds like an obscene euphony, a harmony that makes his head feel foggy and hazed.

 "Fuck, pretty, you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Jeonghan grunts, sneaking a glance down, only for his pace to falter when he sees the way your slick is coating your inner thighs. The view is so lewd, salacious, dirty, and messy. "My messy fucking baby," he mumbles, picking up his speed, eyes fluttering when he feels your walls tightening around him. 

"Jeonghan... Jeonghan..." You're chanting his name like a mantra, eyes pinched close, savouring the feeling of being pumped full. 

"Yeah... that's my name, baby," Jeonghan responds, restrain starting to slip, evident in the way his voice cracks just slightly at the last syllable. "Can you cum like this?"

You promptly shake your head. "N-No." It's not entirely a lie. You hate relying on your imagination like this. You want to be able to touch him, hold him, want to be able to look into his eyes as you let your orgasm crash down on you. You want to see the way his hair frames his pretty face, want to see his flushed cheeks and the sweat gathering at the dips of his collarbones. You want to see him, or you think you'll die on the spot.

"Good. Don't cum, princess." 

"W-What?" you squeak out. 

Jeonghan snorts out a laugh. "I told you before—you're not cumming tonight."

You gulp, stooping down low onto your elbow, too weak to support yourself up on your hands. "I wanna cum, H-Hannie... Please let me..."

Jeonghan only snickers, ramming into you harder, letting out a content sigh when your moans seem to escalate, becoming more wanton and desperate. You're squeezing him so tight, white ring of your milky slick forming a ring at the base of his cock, causing him to groan out loud. He'd like to think that he's in full control, but everything about you is making him feel delirious—your smell, your pussy, your moans. 

Ever the competitive man, Jeonghan feels like he's losing this game. He's supposed to be angry at you, but why does it feel like you have the upper hand? Feeling irked by this sudden revelation, he stretches a hand out, wrapping it around your neck. He hears the surprised gasp you let out when he pulls you upright into his chest. 

Your hands immediately fly up to circle around his wrist, taken aback by the sudden change of positions. His other arm slithers around your waist, keeping you balanced as he continues to fuck you from behind. "Fuck, Hannie, your cock feels so good," you can't help but murmur, arching your hips just slightly so he can reach deeper into you. 

He scoffs, burying his face into the crook of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on the spot underneath your ear, strands of his hair tickling your skin. As he expects, your head lolls the other way, granting him better access to your neck. "Of course it feels good, baby. I've fucked you so many times your pussy is used to me now. Wouldn't be able to take another cock without thinking of mine, would you? Wouldn't feel so good if it wasn't my cock, right?"

His fingers dig into the sides of your neck, constricting just enough for you to gradually feel the drowsiness from the lack of air. It's intoxicating, being able to surrender yourself to another person completely, knowing they have you in the palm of their hand.

You're too preoccupied with the feeling of his hand around your throat to realise his other hand sneaking down to settle between your legs, middle and ring fingers starting to draw gentle circles into your bundle of nerves. It's almost too much—the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way his lips skim over your neck, the chokehold he has on you, the breathy groans he murmurs against your skin. 

"Unghh! F-Fuck, Jeonghan, 'm gonna cum..."

He chuckles, delighted at the turn of events. He doesn't stop the motion of his fingers against your clit and instead presses down harder, making your head roll back onto his shoulder, a throaty moan spilling past your lips into the open air. 

"Oh?" he says in a sardonic tone. "You said you couldn't cum like this. Or were you just lying to me, baby?" His mocking shouldn't have such power over you, but it makes your heart pound with the intensity of a raging storm.

"N-No, it's because you're... your fingers—"

"Hmm, what's with my fingers, angel?" 

The fingers on your clit start moving faster, motions rushed and relentless, bringing you to the verge of your climax quicker than you would ever anticipate. The sudden shift in speed makes you cry out in shock, eyes pinching shut. You're quick to bring a hand down to his wrist, tugging, trying to yank his hand away from between your legs. 

He doesn't relent, slapping your hand away and briefly resuming his assault on your aching bud. "Don't try to stop me now. I thought you wanted to cum."

"You told me not to," you rush out, heat starting to swell in your stomach, ready to burst. 

Jeonghan lets out a chortle. "That's right, baby. Ah, you listen so well..." Stretching his tongue out, he licks a broad path up your neck, stopping right underneath your jaw, where he proceeds to suck the skin. He wants to mark you, claim you. What better way than to bruise your pretty skin, right? To show everyone only a sliver of what goes on between you and him behind closed doors. 

"Oh, god, let me cum, please, please..." You have no other option than to resort to begging. Cumming without his consent would be catastrophic now. Not being able to see his face is punishment already to you, you're terrified of just how far he'd be willing to go to take his anger out on you.

Jeonghan presses the tip of his nose into the plushness of your cheek, humming as though he's weighing his options. "I don't think so, princess," he mumbles, the snap of his hips not once faltering, maintaining its hasty rhythm. "I don't think you deserve to cum."

You don't have much time left. Simple begging won't work now. You're wracking your brain for anything, anything. Forcing him to cum before you would be close to impossible, noting just how composed he seems. He's breathing hard, gravelly groans bubbling up in his chest, but he's nowhere near how wrecked you are.

Through your haze, you suddenly grow aware of the hand still draped over your throat. He's not pressing or squeezing, simply just letting his hand rest there as a means to keep you balanced on your knees as he fucks you open from behind. 

Sheer desperation makes you reach both hands up to claw at the hand on your neck. You're clinging onto the last threads of your rationality, knowing if Jeonghan puts even the slightest amount of pressure on his grip, all your sanity will go out the window, and you'd be hurled face-first into your much-awaited orgasm. You're playing with fire, you know it, but you only have one chance. 

"Unghh, f-fuck, please, choke me... I've been a bad girl, H-Hannie, choke me as punishment, and let me cum..."

You feel his mouth stretch into a grin against your cheek. Your walls are clenching around him so tight, pulsing, so hot and tight. He knows he has won. It's this notion of winning that has him thinking about giving in, but one look at your face has him reeling back his words. The furrow of your eyebrows, your slack jaw, your scarlet cheeks... it makes him feel sadistic. You wanted him to be angry at you anyway, what boyfriend would he be if he didn't give you any reason to make him angry? 

Then, Jeonghan watches. He tightens the hand around your neck, and continues his assault on your clit with the other, all while he continues to ram his dick into you again and again. You start to babble out incoherent words, and that's when he finally strikes. 

"Don't cum."

Those are the two simple words that send you dissolving into a whirl of pleasure and euphoria. Your ears feel like they're ringing as pure, white heat consumes you whole, moaning out your boyfriend's name repeatedly as you go rigid in his embrace. It's like shockwaves, rippling through you so forcibly you have no choice but to succumb to the raging tides, riding it out until you can fully apprehend the situation again. 

Gradually, you begin to notice the way Jeonghan holds you tight to him, how both his hands wrap around your waist to keep your body pressed to his, how his hips have stilled, hard cock still sheathed in your throbbing heat. He's pressing soft kisses onto your shoulder, coaxing you down from your high. 

Jeonghan lets your tired figure collapse onto the bed before sitting back and propping himself up on his heels. The sight is so endearing to him—you, still huffing breathlessly, hushed whines slipping past your lips at every exhale, so spent after only one orgasm. Jeonghan feels like it's so perverse of him to reach a hand down to stroke at his still-hard cock, touching himself to the sight of your curled figure. From this angle, he can see the mess between your thighs, remnants of your juices and his pre-cum smeared all over your puffy pussy lips. Oh, he definitely isn't done with you just yet. 

He hears you mumble his name groggily. Jeonghan's not sure whether you're calling out to him or just saying meaningless things in your post-orgasm haze. He doesn't waste time thinking, though, immediately swooping down to cage you between his arms, kissing along your hairline. "Tired already?"

Your eyes flutter open, looking up at your boyfriend who hovers above you with a smirk that makes your heart skip a beat. Fuck, you're really in for it. 

He coos at you, but it sounds sarcastic. "I told you to hold it, didn't I?"

You puff out a breath, shifting onto your back, obediently parting your legs so Jeonghan can slot himself in between them. "But your fingers—"

"Good girls don't talk back, do they, pretty?"

"N-No..."

He nods, eyes wandering downward, not trying to hide the way they zero in on your breasts. "No, they don't... But you're not a good girl, are you?" he asks, lowering himself to blow cool air onto your nipple, earning a choked gasp from you. Without any warning, he latches his mouth onto the skin at the top of your breast, sucking earnestly, not letting up until he's finally satisfied with the reddening of the skin there. He always loved to see the reddish hue of your hickeys turn into delicate shades of blue and purple as they heal. 

"I can be your good girl..."

"No, no, baby, you're a lying whore who doesn't do as they're told."

"Hannie, I asked you so many times—"

Jeonghan doesn't give you a chance to object, immediately slanting his lips over yours. He pushes his tongue past your spit-coated lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth, letting his tongue tangle with yours lasciviously. He feels you sigh against his mouth, hands coming up to curl around the nape of his neck. 

Reaching a hand down, he positions his cock over your entrance, plunging himself into your sopping pussy without any notice. It's easy to sink back into you—you're still sopping wet and stretched open from before.

Shocked, you break away from the kiss to let out a sharp cry, nails digging into his shoulders, threatening to break the skin there. "God, J-Jeonghan!"

He doesn't give you any time to adjust, quickly finding a rhythm that makes you arch your chest, pebbled nipples brushing against his front. You finally have the chance to look at him, really look at him. Fuck, you wouldn't trade this sight for anything else. He's the most beautiful thing you've ever had the privilege of seeing. 

He notices your lovestruck eyes, cock twitching inside you as he pounds into you. He thinks you're so pretty, all splayed out underneath him, so pliant, letting him do whatever he pleases with you. Your hair fans out over the pillow under your head, thin tendrils of it clinging onto your dewy temple and neck. He understands why you love to see his face so much whenever you fuck—he thinks he could cum earlier than anticipated if you keep looking at him with that infatuated gaze.

"Fuck, baby..." he curses, and it's the first time you've seen him lose his composure. "Fuck, you're such a pretty little thing..."

Your body sings at the compliment, shuddering, legs pressing into his sides, wanting to close shut but unable to. You're light-headed, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but this feels too good to stop. With quivering hands, you slip your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling carelessly. He's growing his hair out, so the length falls just shy of his shoulders, some strands curling over his neck like delicate tendrils of silk. 

Jeonghan's low groan pulls you out of your dazed thoughts. "Hannie..."

"Mhm, am I fucking you good, gorgeous? No one else can fuck you like I can, hm?"

You rake your nails across the nape of his neck, whimpering when he shifts just a little, hitching one of your legs up and hooking it around his slender waist. He thrusts a few more times, and his cock brushes against a spot that has you jolting, mewling as he grazes it repeatedly. 

"Oh? Right there?" Jeonghan noses at your cheekbone, listening to your gasps and whimpers, feeling his abdomen tighten at the obscene sounds you let out. 

"R-Right there..."

"That's it... You think Seungcheol can get you like this?"

At the mention of your ex's name, you whine loudly. A part of you hadn't expected Jeonghan to remember the earlier incident, but you should've known better. It seems stupid to think Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't remember an incident that occurred only an hour ago. 

"H-Hannie..."

"Hm, you gonna meet him for lunch? Gonna let him try to win you over? Gonna let him have what's mine?"

You shake your head, on the verge of sobbing, feeling your eyes fill with tears. "Wouldn't do that," you rasp. "I'm yours, Hannie..."

Jeonghan doesn't seem very convinced. "Yeah? You're mine?" he mutters against the apple of your cheek. His voice is low, any traces of anger or annoyance concealed. "You wanna say you're mine, with his contact still saved in your phone, baby? Don't be silly."

Your heel digs into Jeonghan's lower back, anchoring him to you as he continues to drill into you. "But I am yours—"

"Are you?"

"Y-Yes, always yours..." A hard thrust has you gasping, tears trickling down your temple, getting caught in your hair. 

Jeonghan's pace stutters, distracted by the way you blink up at him through your damp lashes. Tears gather at your lash line, and he can't help but want more. It's a sick thought, but Jeonghan doesn't care much. How could he care when he's balls deep inside of you, feeling like he's about to explode from the way your heat wraps around him so well? He wants to see you cry for him, sob, snivel, all because you can't get enough of his cock. He wants you to cum so hard you see stars and forget about everything but him, him, him. Choi Seungcheol will be the last thing on your mind. 

When Jeonghan lowers himself down onto his elbow, he seals his mouth to yours, kissing you fervently. It's a bruising kiss, teeth digging into lips, tongue rolling together in an alluring dance. After some time, Jeonghan reluctantly pulls back, taking a much-needed breath. He groans at the sight of your lips, all plump and damp with a mixture of his and your spit. "Fuck, baby... you're mine, aren't you?" 

 "Y-Yes, yes!" you babble, vision blurring as more tears fill your eyes. 

"You're gonna let me fill you up? Have your pussy dripping my cum for days so you don't forget who you belong to. You like the sound of that?"

"God, yes, yes..." 

Your thighs are starting to shake, Jeonghan can feel it on his hips. He brings his lips over yours again, not kissing you, just barely letting it brush over yours. He can feel every hot breath you release against his mouth. "Say his name, baby."

"Unghh... Hannie—" 

He snickers. "I said his name, not mine," he says darkly, pecking your lips once. 

You're confused and so goddamn frustrated. You're teetering on the precipice of your orgasm, and he wants to play mind games with you now? "No," you whine, shaking your head. 

"No? Why are you so scared?"

"F-Fuck, please!"

"I won't get mad at you for saying it, princess." His voice has dropped down an octave. It feels like it's seeping into your brain, turning it into mush. 

"C-Can't..." you murmur, drool gathering in your mouth the more Jeonghan splits you open. 

"You can't? Why? Scared you might cum if you say his name? Scared you'll think of him when you cum?"

Your eyes grow wide in alarm. "N-No! I wouldn't do that, oh god, f-fuck..."

"Then say it or you're not cumming," he threatens, grinding harder into you, angling his pelvis just slightly so that it brushes against your clit every time he thrusts in. He watches your eyes roll back, pleasure fogging up your brain. He feels your juices coat his pelvis, splashing over his lower abdomen. Whenever his cock dips in and out, the wet sounds resound throughout the room, and it makes him hiss. "Say it," he repeats, knowing he won't last much longer. 

You frantically shake your head, moans coming out stuttered. "N-No, please don't, I can't...Hannie—"

Jeonghan notes the way you're starting to sound distant. "Say it or I'm leaving you here to cum by yourself."

Your eyes meet his—frazzled, panicked, dazed. "Please, I can't!"

"You wanted me mad, right? This is it, princess. Show some gratitude and say his fucking name."

You're trying hard to read him, to possibly decipher his intentions, but it's so hard when you feel like you're on the verge of passing out from the onslaught of pleasure. You reach one hand down to rake at the skin of his lower back, earning a throaty groan from him, a sound that makes your skin prickle. Your other hand settles on his face, cupping his jaw softly, as if begging him. 

Your eyes roam over his face, taking in his exquisite beauty that always leaves you short of breath. His tousled hair hangs over his forehead, dangling in front of his eyes, dark like pools of obsidian, drawing you into their depth. There's a radiant flush that colours his cheeks, drawing your attention to the contour of his cheekbones and jaw, dusted lightly with sweat, highlighting the sharp features. Then his lips—so inviting and soft, parting with each breath. 

Jeonghan feels almost flattered under the weight of your affectionate stare. He briefly closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose, trying to pull himself together. He tries to push everything out of his mind—your delicious sounds, your intoxicating scent, your warm cunt around his cock. It's your sweet, quiet whine that pulls him out of his reverie. When he locks eyes with you again, he knows there's nothing he can do to delay his impending climax—not when you're looking up at him so tenderly, eyes fixated on him like a moth drawn to a mesmerizing flame.

"I c-cant... Don't make me say his name, p-please..."

Jeonghan swallows hard, one hand curving at the nape of your neck. With his grip he tilts your head up, letting your lips caress his. "Say my name, then. Say my name when you cum. Look at me and show me who you belong to..." 

You cum with a shout of Jeonghan's name, your whole body shaking at the sudden explosion. You squirm in your boyfriend's hold, toes curling over the back of his thighs as the pleasure ravages your whole body, surging through every nerve and every cell. It's numbing and so overwhelming at the same time, every inch of your skin humming with electricity, and every vein feeling like they've been set ablaze. For a moment, nothing else in the world matters except you and Jeonghan, entwined in each other as you lose yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure. 

"Fuck, fuck, should I fill you up, baby?" Jeonghan's voice quivers just slightly. 

The question sends another flood of ecstasy through you, cunt fluttering around his cock a second time. "Yes, yes—"

Your voice is like a siren's call to him, beckoning him, tempting him. Jeonghan is only a man, and he's not immune to a force as powerful as you. He sinks his teeth into your neck as he finally empties himself inside you with a drawn-out groan. Your tight cunt is pulsing so tightly around him, milking him, forcing every drop of cum to spill into you and coat your walls. A rather high-pitched whine escapes his lips as he slumps into you, hips flushed to yours, aching balls slick with the mixture of your release and his. 

You're panting heavily as you wrap your arms around Jeonghan, blinking up at the ceiling blearily, feeling filled to the brim with his cum still in you. Despite having the urge to clean yourself up and get rid of the stickiness between your legs, you lie there for another minute, feeling so content with Jeonghan's weight atop yours and his lips on your neck. Being with him is pure bliss. 

"Jeonghan," you say softly after some time, not wanting to ruin the peace and quiet.

He hums, rolling over to the side to lie on his back, letting his softening cock slip out of you. He pulls you into him with one arm, allowing you to settle half of your body on top of his. He lets out a pleased sigh, one hand grazing over your bare back, fingertips gliding down the dip of your spine. 

Placing a palm on his chest, you rest your chin on the back of your hand, gazing up at him tiredly. He seems to glow so prettily, eyes fluttered shut and a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Despite the heaviness of your eyelids, you gather your resolve, knowing that you still have something to clarify with him.

Without thinking too much, you mumble Jeonghan's name again and smile when his eyes flutter open to peer down at you drowsily. His free hand comes up to brush back the hair from your eyes. 

"I'm sorry for not letting you know," you mutter, the weight of your guilt just now settling in your heart. If you don't apologise now, the feeling might devour you whole. "I should've told you..."

The hand on your back ceases moving, palm splaying on your upper back, warm against your skin. "Baby, I wasn't really—you know—angry about it. I was a little stumped, sure, but... I trust you. I always trust you."

You shake your head, pulling yourself up slightly to look at him better. "You deserve to be angry. Jeonghan, you should be so angry at me. I should've told you as soon as I got home from that dinner party."

Jeonghan chuckles, much to your dismay. "Okay, then why didn't you?"

"I just... didn't think it was important. I felt like it wasn't anything worth telling you. It's not a good excuse, I know."

"Is Seungcheol important to you?"

Your eyes widen in disbelief, unable to fully grasp what you just heard. "What! No, of course not!"

"Then what's there to apologise about?" Jeonghan says with a snicker. "Did you kiss him at the party? Did he try to make any move on you? Did he seem interested in you?"

"No to all of those. I... I told him I already found someone else," you admit in a quiet voice. 

When Jeonghan smiles at you, it looks somewhat smug. "That's my girl... Besides, it wasn't his face that you were sitting on when you got back home from that party, was it?"

Appalled by Jeonghan's words, you bring your palm down on his chest, smacking him. "You're disgusting, Yoon Jeonghan."

He only laughs, eyes crinkling as he pulls you even closer. "Don't act like you don't love it."

You say nothing, only bringing your head down to rest it on his chest again. His heartbeat is strong against your ear, and his skin feels warm under your cheek. 

"So..." Jeonghan begins. "Round two in the shower?"

He doesn't have to ask twice—you're already off the bed and sauntering towards the bathroom. 

© sweetlemontart — all rights reserved.

[212-apricity]

theodore nott headcanons part two!!

is it headcannons or headcanons?? anyways i hope you guys like this one, ideas for a new fic are in plan...

masterlist

theodore nott masterlist

patriotically italian, esp now that its the euros this man is 10000% against anything english and his friends are still mad at him for last euros (same)

loves to go shopping with you, he’ll hold stuff for you, he’ll buy stuff for you, he’ll ask people questions for you, literally anything

dog person, hates cats

imagine doing that one trend with theo where your lipstick is smudged and you tilt the phone to him and he’s got lipstick kisses allll over

keeps a polaroid of you two in his phone case

has to hold hands all the time

definitely sappy drunk, most times he’ll talk about your future wedding and sometimes he wont recognise that it’s you and won’t let you touch him thinking it’s some random girl

loves watching you get ready

will take your makeup off for you after a long day/night

doesn’t text basically anyone apart from his friendship group and you, and is always that one person in group chats that never texts back to anything

uses "👍" like a dad

buys things for you if you mention them once e.g. if you say one day that you love blueberries, he'll show up with five boxes of them the next day

has all his family recipes in a box and doesn’t let anyone not even you see them, your favourite: his grandads tiramisu 

sees mattheo breaking spaghetti, proceeds to try and break his legs

always has ink on his hands

you guys are not like those couples at theme parks who are basically doing it in a “family friendly” environment, you hold hands and kiss sometimes but nothing more

old moneyyy

knows how to ride horses for some reason

walked in your and pansys dorm once without knocking when you two were doing the jojo siwa karma dance, was traumatised, left silently, never spoke of it again and never came into the dorm without knocking 

loves photography, hes always taking candid photos of you and random things he sees

the majority of his camera roll is you, old photos of his mother that hes been trying to recover from the Nott achives, and just random things he sees that he finds nice, from a painting in a museum to shattered glass in the sunlight on the street

loves taking in italian with lorenzo when he knows you don’t understand things, loves to see you get frustrated

if you speak a language other than english with your parents and you’re on the phone with them and he hears the one or two words he knows, he’ll get all happy and smiley and keep repeating that word/phrase, same with you when theo speaks italian (if youre not already an italian speaker)

super tall, touches the border of doorways when he walks by them, is called slender man on a daily basis as a result

resting bitch face

lorelai gilmore type comebacks 

prideful, knows the status his family holds

fuck around and find out kind of guy

he’s got that built in dad feature of being able to fix absolutely anything from a shelf to the stove

princess treatment both ways

makes sure to wear a freshly washed shirt for a few hours so when you wear it, they smell like him

serves you first in the great hall

loves coming home with you and your family on holidays

does that thing of keeping a flower from a bouquet he gives you so he knows when to get you more

scorpio

if you are an air sign: that one lyric from chemtrails over the country club, "youre in the wind, im in the water" is so you two bc hes a water sign

kendrick supporter

academically smart, womanly stupid

would ask you to teach him how to make daisy chains and get frustrated when all his would break

he and blaise are the appointed spider catchers for you, mattheo, lorenzo, pansy and draco

cursive handwriting

favourite colour is deep blue

[activesplooger]

ʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴡ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ | ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʜᴀᴢʙɪɴ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ | ꜱᴍᴜᴛ 18+

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: (MDNI) ITS DONNEEEE!! omg guys i literallyyyy akjbfkwjefhkbwefk longest fic ever and honestly my favv i had so much fun making this!!! Also, "Papermint" is like the fanon name for Vox's assistant in ep 2

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You got a job working as an assistant for Vox at VoxTech! Though, his behavior is quite strange around you... He's very touchy-feely, a strange thing for the infamous TV demon to do. Oh, well! It's probably nothing (it's not nothing).

ᴄᴡ: obsessive behavior, stalking, yandere, infatuation, voyeurism, smut, body pillows, masturbation, kidnapping, hypnotism

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7,614

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴘᴏꜱᴛ!

"M-Miss L/N?" A nervous sinner in a VoxTech uniform steps out of the office you patiently waited outside of for about an hour now. You smile politely at the employee and nod. "Yes?" you respond. "M-Mr. Vox would like to see you now.". "Great, thanks!" You grab your resume off your lap and slowly walk to the office door. Your hand hovers over the knob as you mentally prepare yourself for the interview on the other side of the door. ‘You’ve got this… Deep breaths… Inhale… Exhale…’.

Candidate after candidate had gone in and out of the office, each coming out with an upset expression, one of them even started crying! The TV Demon had a reputation for being pretty ruthless, but you didn't know it could be that bad. Even the employee that called you in seemed like he was about to crap his pants from all the pressure. You really needed this job. Rent is higher, and income is at an all-time low. You're hoping your less-than-accurate resume was believable.

You take a few deep breaths, 'C'mon, I've got this! I can handle it... I hope...'. After managing to calm down, you plaster on a wide grin and open the door.

“Hi, Mr. Vox! I’m here for the interview.”

— Earlier...

Velvette rolls his eyes as she walks into Vox's office, "Ugh, are you seriously still spying on that saggy old radio fuck?". Vox sat in his office chair, eyes fixed on the Radio Demon displayed from different angles on various monitors. A few swears were muttered under Vox's breath before prying his eyes away from the screen. Spinning his chair around, he slaps on a faux customer service smile, "Velvette! What can I do for you this sinful afternoon, my dear?". A scoff escapes her mouth, "How long are you gonna let this little Alastor obsession run your life? You're supposed to be interviewing new assistants, not stalking some poor hair-styled geriatric fuck! Get it together!". Vox was only half listening, focusing on the screen with Alastor more than the furious overlord before him. Click Click Velvette snaps her fingers in front of the distracted TV Demon. Vox waves a dismissive hand in response, "Yeah, yeah, I'll have Papermint take care of it...". "You really think Papermint can handle that, darling?" A look of realization spreads across Vox's face, "Fuck, you're right. I'll deal with it.". "Attaboy!" The Fashion Overlord praises with a satisfied grin before exiting the office. An annoyed scowl spreads across Vox's face once she leaves. He gets one last look at The Radio Demon displayed throughout the monitors, "Until next time...". __

After countless interviews, Vox was at the end of his rope. Each candidate wasn't qualified in some aspect according to Vox's standards. 'Too eager.' 'Too little experience.'. Some of them simply had an "unlikable face" according to him and sent them out before the interview could even start. "S-Sir?" Papermint hesitantly speaks, "Would you like me to send in the next applicant..?" Vox sighs, "Papermint, let me ask you this. Have I hired anyone yet?" "N-No..." "Then, ɎɆS ɎØᵾ ƗNȻØMⱣɆŦɆNŦ WȺSŦɆ ØF ȺƗɌ. ŦĦƗS ƗS WĦɎ Ɨ ĦȺVĘ ŦØ ǤɆŦ ŦWØ ȺSSƗSŦȺNŦS."

Papermint trembles as sparks of electricity emanating from his angry boss fly toward him, "S-Sorry, Sir! I'll bring them in right away!".

Vox rolls his eyes as Papermint goes to fetch his next victim applicant. You open the door and walk in with a warm smile, the mere sight of you causing Vox to choke on his own spit.

“Hi Mr. Vox! I’m here for the interview.”

—

You place your resume on his desk and sit down on the chair in front of it. The wires in Vox’s head nearly short circuit, unable to comprehend you. You clear your throat in an attempt to cut the initial tension and silence, “Ahem-“

The TV Demon snaps out of his trance and picks up your resume, “Ah, Miss Y/N! Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too, Sir!”

“Please,” he flashes a charming grin, “Call me Vox, doll.”. You smile and nod, “Nice to meet you, Vox.”. The sound of his name on your lips sent shivers down Vox's spine.

He regains his composure and clears his throat, “So, I see you have some experience assisting other overlords. What made you want to be a co-assistant to me at Voxtech?". “I’m sorry, co-assistant?” you ask.

“Yes,” Vox gestures to Papermint standing idly in a corner, “This one over here will also be my assistant. You’ll handle the more personal needs of mine while Papermint handles more business-related needs.”. “I see."

Vox, completely entranced by you, puts your resume down and extends a hand out to you across the desk, “Well, that’s all I really need! Congratulations! You got the job!”. Winning sound effects could be heard from Vox’s speakers as he congratulated you. “Oh! I-Is that it..? No questions..?” you inquire. Was he joking? “Nope, I’ve seen enough," he states firmly.

"Actually," a sly smile creeps out from his teeth, "what size are you?”

“Uh, why?”

“For your uniform of course!”

— You could've sworn the uniform you received was 1-2 sizes smaller than you said you were. The uniform consists of a navy and turquoise pinstripe mini skirt, a low-cut white blouse fitted with a red tie, and black sheer stockings. “I look like one of those clown robot sex toy things…”. Looking in the mirror, you felt very exposed... It wasn't any more slutty than the stuff you'd usually wear, but that was exactly the problem. Why was your work uniform so revealing? You looked like one of Valentino's pornstars rather than a Voxtech employee. No doubt, you looked killer. But, it's still very strange.

"Eh... Whatever. I'm overthinking it." you reassure yourself. __

"Yes, YES! SHE'S PUTTING IT ON!". Vox presses his face against the screen as he watches you through his monitors. He had gotten an employee to stash hidden cameras in your apartment immediately after your interview. The cameras he used for you were the ones he used for spying on Alastor. It's time for someone new to obsess over, someone better. More attainable.

“Fuck, that’s hot…” Vox's pants start to stretch uncomfortably as he continues watching you. His eyes stay glued to the screen, gaze lingering on the exposed skin peeking out through the skimpy clothing.

His hand travels down to the large concealed bulge, palming himself slowly before looking at the time. “SHIT, She’s gonna be here in an hour!.”. The TV demon springs up from his seat and makes his way to the modeling floor of the Vee Tower.

__

"I don't have time for this!" Velvette exclaims, walking away from Vox. "Come on, Vel," he pleads, "just this once! You do it for Valentino all the time!". She stops in her tracks, turning on her heels sharply to face him, "That's because Valentino has a make-up-applicable face! Not a screen!". Vox chases after her as she walks away. "Velvette," he says with a nervous chuckle, "who said anything about makeup, my dear? Just a little touch-up would be nice!". "If I say yes will you leave me alone?" she asks. "Absolutely!"

Velvette gets some of her workers and assigns them to give Vox a makeover. The employees adorn him in the finest colognes and do his skincare (which is honestly just screen wipes). They tailor his suit to make sure it fits extra perfect and hugs all the right spots. His claws get a nice manicure, having them sharpened and polished to perfection. He's getting all dolled up just for you!

Vox waits patiently in his office for you to arrive, a wide grin on his face as he stares at the door.

__

Unfortunately, you were running a bit late. Traffic in the entertainment district was brutal at 7:00am, everyone's trying to get to work at this hour you suppose. You wish you had known this prior to your first day, but you usually never wake up before 9:00 so you've never seen the morning traffic. Running late on your first day? Very professional.

To make things worse, when you did finally pull in for work, some jackass parked in your designated spot. Prick. You managed to find a spot down the street and quickly back into the space. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you then hop out of your car and sprint down the street as fast as possible.

You never were much of a runner, but determination set you off into a pace you've never reached before. Pushing open the doors, you find the elevators. A crowd of people huddles around it as they all await the next lift. Fuck that. You dart to the stairs and climb them with all your might. 40 flights. Maybe you should've waited for the elevator.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, you sluggishly pull yourself up the next step. You take a moment to collect yourself and take some deep breaths before running into his office. Bursting open the doors, you sprint down the walkway yelling, "I'M HERE!".

"I *wheeze* am soooooo sorry for being late sir," you apologize, hoping you weren't automatically fired for this, "traffic was horrible and someone took my spot and I'm so sorry, sir!".

__

Vox had patiently waited an hour in his office for you, anxiously waiting your arrival. Paranoid thoughts of you not showing up ate away at him as he stared at the door in front of him, waiting for you to walk in in all of your glory. His smile never faded, of course, his customary showman grin plastered on his face. Occasionally, he'd glance into the reflection of a monitor, checking his appearance. Did he look good enough? He sure hoped he did.

And then, finally, you come bustling through the door. Your hair is messy, loose strands falling from your neat ponytail. The uniform was a bit disheveled, but still. Holy shit.

__

The TV demon chuckles softly, putting up a hand to stop your rambling, "No worries, my dear, I understand.". How could he ever be mad at you? To him, you're absolute perfection. "Really?" a smile spreads across your face. "Thank you so much, sir," you beam, "it won't happen again I promise!".

"It better not!" he teases, a bark of laughter escaping him. "You know," he adds, "to avoid this little issue again, why don't I give you a ride sometime?". "No no," you protest, waving your hands as a declining gesture, "I couldn't ask you to go out of your way to do that. I'm supposed to assist you.". "Nonsense, my dear," he insists, "it wouldn't be out of the way at all!".

He's certainly very accommodating to you, but why? Wasn't he supposed to be the infamous horrifying TV overlord you've heard all about? Maybe it's just exaggerated gossip, after all, he seemed like a nice guy! Maybe too nice. "But, don't you live here..? Wouldn't it be a little inconvenient to drive all the way to my place and back?".

You got him there, he really had no reason to go out of his way for that without raising suspicion. His smile falters slightly, his voice a bit quieter now, "Yes, of course. That makes more sense...". It goes quiet for a moment, Vox projecting sweat on his screen as he's nervous that he already screwed everything up.

He clears his throat and throws on a fake grin, "Anyways! How about we get you started on your first task, hm?". You nod, grabbing out your notepad and pen, and getting ready to write down whatever he says.

"Let's see," he taps a sharp turquoise claw to his screen, "how about you start with running a few errands for me? I'll write down a list of groceries for you to fetch. Vox jots down a few items on a post-it and rips it off before handing it to you. You grab the list and nod, "Yes, Mr. Vox.".

Truthfully, he didn't want you to do anything. Preferably, he'd have you perched on his lap like a pretty little trophy. But alas, that wasn't exactly a normal thing to ask of your new employee so, he settled with groceries for now.

__

Heading back into your car, you drive to the store of choice, Hellwhon. Personally, you think that store is gaudy and outrageously overpriced. But, hey, if you were as rich as Vox you'd probably shop there too! "Alright. Sushi, dolphin meat, coffee beans, and redbull..." you repeat to yourself, trying to memorize the list of bizarre groceries. Man, rich people are weird…

Despite your opinions on the abnormality of the upper class, you happily comply in buying the groceries.

__

Unbeknownst to you, Vox had been watching you the whole time. Street lamps, drones, security cameras, etc., were all Voxtech-owned and therefore can be monitored by the TV demon himself. All eyes were on you.

Alastor, his previous infatuation, was now completely disregarded by Vox. He cleared out his shrine of the Radio Demon and made way for a new one, you. Only you, always you. Previous body pillows, photos, and posters of Alastor were replaced by custom-made merch of you.

He'd taken screenshots of you from his surveillance cameras and plastered them onto body pillows. Nude, clothed, and uniformed photos of your likeness got printed and sent to a VoxTech manufacturer for some poor employee to make. The TV demon spent hundreds of dollars on products in your likeness: candles with your face on them, framed photos, etc. His infatuation is growing, and it's growing fast.

__ Heavy grocery bags fill your arms as you approach the V tower. Pressing your back against the heavy glass doors, you struggle to open them. Vox's other assistant, Papermint, notices your struggle from the lobby and hastily opens the door for you. "Thank you," you breathe out. He nods and gestures for the groceries, "N-No problem! Let me get that for you-". You turn your arms away, "Oh, I've got it. Thanks though!".

As much as you wanted help, you had to do it on your own You needed to prove yourself after showing up an hour late on your first day. Vox needs to know that you're capable of this job!

Your arms start to give out the longer you hold the heavy plastic bags. "Fuck," you mutter to yourself, "why didn't I just accept his help?". After an agonizing wait in the crowded elevator, you finally reach the penthouse floor.

Scurrying across the penthouse, you reach the high-tech, lavish kitchen. You sort all the groceries into their respective cupboards or shelves, except the dolphin meat, you weren't sure where that hell went.

__

Vox's head snaps towards the door as he hears you enter his office. "Hi, Mr. Vox," you say with a wide smile, "so sorry to bother I just have a quick question...". Vox beams as you enter, turning his full attention to you, "Yes, Doll?". "I wasn't sure what to do with this," you gesture to the package of dolphin meat. "Oh, right," he explains, striding closer towards you. He gestures his arms to the array of sharks surrounding his below office, “It’s for the fish, of course!”.

Right, the "fish". He glances down at the techy sharks before looking back at you, "Wanna feed them?". His eyes light up at the prospect of this. A hot, sexy woman feeding his precious little sharks?! He fought the urge to fuck you then and there.

"Uh," you hesitate, having the slightest fear of sharks, "maybe another time.". "C'mon," he insists, stepping closer to you. Large hands find the small of your back and guide you to the edge of the platform. "They won't bite..." he whispers in your ear softly, his hot breath hitting your skin.

Fuck. You couldn't say no now! Not with your boss all insistent and close to you like this. You swallow as you brace yourself to face your fears. Glancing down at the package of dolphins, you struggle to tear open the plastic wrap. Maybe if you procrastinated enough with the packaging, he'd let it go and get his soft hands off your waist. Shit, were you turned on or scared? Either way you needed to get this over with ASAP!

Taking a step forward, Vox reluctantly releases his grip on you. You hold out the food far out in front of you and plop it into the water. Sharks splash and surround the meat, fighting viciously for it.

You shuffled back rapidly away from the aquarium and bumped into your boss, "Shit!". His firm chest presses up against your back, hands gripping your waist to keep you in place. "Careful now, sweetheart," he whispers in a husky voice. Fuck, that was hot.

You quickly regain your composure and step back to maintain a professional distance between the two of you, "Yes, sir! I-I'm so sorry!". "No apology necessary, Doll," he says with half-lidded eyes and a casual smile. You were for sure fired for this, despite his reassuring words. You were late, reluctant to do what he asked, and now you're kind of turned on by your boss. What kind of assistant are you?! "I guess I'll get back to work. A-Anything you need? Coffee? Tea?".

"Hm," he ponders for a moment, "do me a favor and organize the pantry in my penthouse.". "Yes, sir!" you say, quickly running out of his office and to his penthouse. Phew. Finally, you're out of that humiliating situation.

__

Vox didn't need his pantry organized. His penthouse is practically spotless! Truthfully, he just needed you occupied for a while so he could revel in the lingering scent of you on his clothes. As soon as you're out of sight, he scrambles to his desk and whips out his surveillance footage. He'd already had his favorite clips of you compiled into a file named "<3". In said file, there are various videos of you roaming around doing routine tasks. He'd save it into the file whenever you looked particularly cute or ravishing.

Vox scrolls through the file and clicks on different videos and screenshots compiled in it. "Hnnf, yes," he moans out, unbuckling his belt with haste. He quickly slides down his pants and boxers, freeing his aching navy cock. Pre-cum leaked through his tip and slid down the side of his hefty shaft. Shrugging his coat off, he sniffs the place where you'd been previously pressed against. He takes in the scent, trying to smell every trace of your scent that lingered on his clothes.

His hand wraps around his length and squeezes tightly. He closes his eyes as he pumps himself, imagining your pretty little hand wrapped around him, "Fuck, Y/N... That's it, Doll...". The pace of his movements increases while inhaling your scent on his jacket with desperate fervor. Prying his eyes open, he looks at the monitor displaying your likeness.

He drops the jacket and reaches for his computer mouse. Scrolling through the file, he finds the video he's looking for, a video of you in the shower. A grin spreads across the TV demon's screen, "Hah, fuck... So fucking perfect, gonna make you mine.". He pumps his hand faster, hips bucking into his own hands as he chases his release. "Fuck, fuck, fuck FUUCK," buckets of cum pour all over his hand as his orgasm crashes over him.

He grabs a couple wipes and cleans himself up, wishing he had you there to lick him clean. Slumping back into the chair, a frown spreads across his face. His focus is fixed on the screen with longing in his eyes. Staring at the monitors, he reaches out, putting a hand onto the screen, "Why can't you be mine...?".

__

The rest of the week droned on pretty monotonously. Despite a few tasks that would take you tops 5 minutes here and there, you didn't have much to do. You'd insist on helping Vox with whatever, but rest assured, he always claimed that there was simply nothing to do. And while it's great to sit around all day in your Boss's fancy office, it does get boring and a little strange. Why did Vox even hire you in the first place? It seemed like he didn't need you.

One day, you're out on a coffee run for Vox. Of course, he insisted that you buy something for yourself on him. You make your way down to the food court in the lobby and grab two coffees, one large black coffee, and a small iced latte. On your way back, you run into Vox's other assistant, Papermint. "Hey," you greet him, "how's it going?".

The demon looked nervous and stressed out. He gives you a shaky smile, "H-Hey there.". He almost immediately darts away after he speaks. You follow after him, "Wait up!". Why'd he run away from you? Did you say something wrong?

He stops in his tracks and sighs, unaware of the fact that you're right behind him. You tap him on the shoulder. The sinner jumps at the contact of your hand on his back, "Ah! Y-You're still here...". He nervously chuckles, to which you raise an eyebrow, "Uh, yeah! I was hoping to chat, actually. I'm pretty bored around here.". He stammers, "B-Bored? H-Here?". "Uh huh..." you confirm. Maybe you should've let this guy run away, he didn't seem very stable-

"Y-You're not tasked with an impossible list of things to do?!" he asks, gripping your shoulders tightly. "What, no? I've barely had anything to do all week!" you reply, trying to gently pry yourself from his grip. He realizes his intense embrace and lets you go, eyes scanning the surrounding area as if he were making sure nobody was watching. Papermint leans in closely and whispers, "You're telling me you have had no work?". You nod. He takes a deep breath, speaking in a strained voice, "I have had the same, if not more, work than before. Hiring you was supposed to alleviate some of my workload...".

"I-I'm sorry," you squeak. He shakes his head, "No, it's not your fault...". Whipping his head back, he looks at the security camera facing directly toward him, "C-Crap, I've got to go!". Before you can protest, he darts out of sight, the camera turning its head to follow his every move.

What the fuck was that?

__ A scowl forms on Vox's face as he watches you and Papermint through the live security feed, "I thought I told that քʀɨƈӄ to never speak to you...". His eyes stay fixed on the screen, electricity sparking from his screen as his anger simmers. It seems Papermint needs a "friendly talking to".

__

You made your way back up to Vox's office a bit after your strange encounter with Papermint. Balancing the two coffees in one arm, you used the other arm to push open the office door. The door doesn't budge open. Huh, weird...

Pressing your ear to the door, you hear yelling and the commotion of objects being thrown. You can't exactly make out what's being said, however, it was clear Vox was the one yelling. He sounded pissed.

Moments later, you hear the yelling stop, along with footsteps getting louder as they reach the door. Stepping back from the door, Papermint emerges, bruised and limping, sporting a dark black eye. You reach your hand out to him, to which he flinches. "Are you-" Before you can finish, his eyes widen in fear, and he limps away as fast as he can.

Shit, was this your fault? You were supposed to be picking up Papermint's slack. He probably got in trouble for wasting time and talking to you. Maybe you should talk to Vox about picking up your dead weight...

A shakey hand reaches out to push open the door, a determined look on your face. Vox is hunched over his desk, the room disheveled with a few objects lying broken on the floor. "Sir?"

He turns over with a deranged look. His expression softens as he sees you, a smile stretching across his face as he straightens his posture, "Ah, there you are! My favorite assistant? What do you need, Doll?". "Actually," you take a deep breath, stealing yourself for the conversation ahead, "I wanted to talk about something.". He tilts his head and nods, gesturing for you to continue.

"Well, I-I want to start doing more around here. I feel like I don't do much," looking up at him, you try to gauge his reaction. He sighs, narrowing his eyes as he speaks, "Did Papermint say something to try to guilt trip you into doing more work? Because if he did I-".

"No, no, no!" you interrupt. You start pacing in small circles as you find the words to express yourself, "What I mean is, I feel as if I don't do enough. I-I'm your assistant, I want to assist you... and I guess I feel as if I'm failing...".

Terror flashes across Vox's face. Failing?! His perfect little assistant?! The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel bad, he just wanted you to relax at work instead of stressing out over work, "What? No, uh, here! I'll assign you something very important!". A wave of relief washes over you, "Really?". He nods, chuckling nervously as he scrambles to find a task for you. Scrolling through the calendar on his computer, he finds something for you to do, "Ah, here we are!". He turns to you with a composed grin, "I have a meeting today at 4:00. Now, I understand that it's last minute, and it's not the type of duties that you usually do-". "I'll do it!" you say with a smile.

Vox lets out a satisfied hum, "Good girl.". He clacks away on his keyboard for a moment before turning back to face you, "I've sent you an email regarding all the information you'll need to present at the meeting.". "Great! You won't regret this Mr. Vox!" you beam.

__

As you step into the conference room, a sense of purpose fills the air. The long table, polished to a shine, invites collaboration, while the chairs await their occupants. You methodically arrange the seating, making sure everyone will have a comfortable spot and a good view of the presentation.

Eventually, a few of VoxTech's affiliates walk in and wait for you to present. "Hi, I'm Y/N," you introduce with a wide smile, "I'll be here in place of Vox today!". A couple of the demons give you a skeptical look. "Rest assured, I know everything there is to know! So if you'd just look over here," you point to the presentation displayed on the flatscreen at the head of the room.

As you present, you find yourself reaching over the table often, causing the skimpy uniform to ride up in the back. And while you tried to fix it, it looked a bit odd for you to fidget with your skirt hem every 5 seconds. So, you let it ride up. Nobody would see you anyway since they're faced the opposite way, so no worries! Right?

__

Vox leaned back in his office chair, his eyes glued to the live feed on his computer monitors. You were currently bent over the conference table, your short skirt riding up and exposing the skin of your ass as you worked diligently on the presentation. Vox's needy cock twitches in his trousers at the sight, his mind filled with dirty fantasies.

He imagines running his hands over your toned body, gripping your hips as he fucks you hard against the table. He reaches down to unzip his pants, freeing the heavy erection from the confines of his pants. His cock springs out as he pulls down his boxers, beads of pre-cum leaking from the turquoise tip.

His breathing grew heavier as he watched you, imagining all the filthy things he wanted to do to that beautiful body... Bend you over the desk and pound into your tight cunt until you scream. Suck on those perfect tits while he fingered your dripping slit... make you beg for his cock like the desperate slut you are…

Vox starts stroking himself, "Fuck, so pretty...". He whimpers as he pumps his cock faster, watching as more and more of your ass unknowingly gets exposed. Pressing a button, the segment clips and loops over and over. Releasing his shaft, he opens a cabinet where a body pillow of you is stuffed inside. Positioning the pillow of you under him, he starts humping the pillow, rubbing his shaft against the soft fabric.

His eyes flicker back to the screen, a dopey blissed-out smile across his face, "Hnnf, so naughty... Showing off for me like that...". Hips buck against the pillows vigorously as he approaches orgasm. Unbridled moans and grunts leave his lips, not bothering to keep his voice down in case others might hear. With a final thrust, cum shoots across the pillow, painting your printed self.

Slumping against the chair, he wipes the cum off himself and the pillow with a tissue, "Let's get you all cleaned up, Princess.". With a satisfied sigh, he tenderly gathers the used tissues, disposing of them discreetly in the wastebasket at his feet. Then, cradling the soiled pillow close, he brings it to his face, he inhales deeply as if trying to somehow get your scent. A contented smile plays on his lips as he nestles the pillow against him, the soft fabric relaxing his body after the aftershocks of his orgasm.

For a moment, he relaxes, sitting perched on the chair as he cuddles the pillow. But soon enough, reality sets in. With a sigh, he tucks the soiled pillow away in a dresser drawer and pulls up his pants. He grimaces, realizing his underwear is damp from precum. Ugh, he needs to do laundry. Grabbing both the pillowcase and his soiled boxers, he strides out of his office and makes his way up the elevator to his penthouse. __

Meanwhile, the meeting had gone very well! Despite the minor wardrobe malfunction, you got through your presentation quickly and efficiently! Hopefully, this alleviated at least one task of Papermint's plate... every time you thought of what happened to him you got a horrible stomach ache.

You clean up the conference room and head to Vox's office with news from how the meeting went. Damn it, the door's locked again! Trepidation filled you as the worst possible scenario plagued your thoughts. Did Papermint get in trouble because of you again?!

You listen in through the door and hear a loud voice. However, it wasn't exactly yelling... it was more akin to moaning. "The fuck's going on in there?" you mutter to yourself. An unnerving chill crawls down your spine, "Ugh, I don't even want to know.".

Instead, you take the elevator to his penthouse and make yourself busy there, cleaning, organizing, and whatever else that could keep you busy.

__ Vox walks into the penthouse, panic settling in as he sees you cleaning the sink. Quickly hiding the cum-soaked items behind his back, he flashes a nervous grin. "Oh! H-Hey! What are you doing here?" he asks with a nervous chuckle.

You set down the dish in your hand and smile, "Just cleaning up. You were busy in your office so I occupied myself with some tasks.". The color nearly drains from his screen as you mention him being "busy" in his office, "Right right... You didn't happen to walk into my office, did you?". You shake your head no. "Good, good," he says with a relieved sigh.

The two of you stand there in silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say. Vox shuffles awkwardly to the side towards the laundry room, "Don't mind me, I just need to wash a few things.". Tearing off a paper towel, you dry off your hands, "Oh! Let me do that for you-". You walk towards him but he backs away, "No!" he blurts out louder than intended. "I- Ahem, what I mean is," he starts sweating, nervous that you'll find out about his perverted venture, "I can wash them myself! No need to halt your duties, my dear.". "Uh, okay..." you comply, confused about why he's so adamant about this. What's he hiding?

Vox walks backward into the laundry room, shutting the door in front of him with an awkward kick. "Alright, that was super normal," you mutter to yourself sarcastically, "just another normal day with my normal boss."

Walking back to the sink, you resume cleaning the dishes. After around 5 minutes, Vox walks out of the laundry room, checking you out from behind. A husky low voice calls out from behind you, "Bye, Doll.". You turn your head back and see Vox standing by the door. "Bye, Mr. Vox," you reply with a polite smile.

The TV demon practically melted into a puddle at your warm expression. He takes one last longing look at you before leaving the penthouse __

An hour or so passes, and you hear the beeping of the washing machine. At first, you ignore the sound. You really should respect your boss' privacy. The machine continues to beep, the relentless noise testing your nosy tendencies.

Maybe you could just switch the clothes into the dryer, that wouldn't be nosy! It'd be the responsible thing to do as his assistant. Once you justify your snooping, you walk into the laundry room with an air of confidence in your decisions.

The door of the washing machine swings open. Hmm, it just looks like a few pieces of clothing. You reach out and grab the wet articles of fabric. The first one you look at is a simple pair of navy boxers. 'Pft, maybe he pissed himself or something,' you chuckle at the thought.

The discovery sends a chill down your spine as you inspect the pillow, fingers brushing against the soft fabric. It was you. A bizarre photo of you that you hadn't seen before. A wave of nausea washes over you as you take in the unmistakable resemblance - the same shade of hair, the curve of your neck, even the subtle blemishes in your skin. Your mind reels, trying to process this unsettling discovery. Why would Vox keep such a disturbing object? Was it some kind of fetish of his? Your breath comes in short gasps as you stare at the pillow, your eyes tracing over the photo that evokes a haunting familiarity.

Suddenly, a hand grabs at your waist and another at your neck. "You really weren't supposed to see that," the familiar whisper sends a chill down your spine. You try to explain yourself, but you can't seem to find the words. Your flight or fight response kicks in. Flight.

You attempt to pry yourself from his firm hold on you, but your attempts are futile. "You're not going anywhere, princess," he stares into your eyes with his hypnotic red glowing eye. Your vision blurs, your mind going numb as the room starts to spin.

__

Your eyes blink open, your head throbbing as you wake up. Looking around, the surroundings were familiar of sorts, you just couldn't put it together. Your fuzzy mind works overtime to figure out where you are. It's a bedroom. A lavish one at that. It's sleek and modern and, frankly, quite boring. Blue and red accents are scattered around the room. Blue and red... Wait, this is Vox's bedroom. In that instant, everything became clear — the cloth covering your mouth, the ropes bound around your waist and wrists, securing you to the chair.

"Someone's awake," a voice coos into your ear. Your muffled screams do nothing to help you, the TV demon looking back at you with an unfazed grin. A single tear rolls down your cheek, fearing the worst. Would he kill you? Would he torture you?

"Shh, don't cry," he wipes the tear off your cheek with his thumb, hand cradling your face as he tries to soothe you, "You're safe with me, don't worry, Doll.". Safe?! Was that a joke?! You shoot him a glare.

He cups your face in his hands, "Don't look at me like that, Y/N.". Tracing a finger along your jawline, he tilts your face up towards him, "You look beautiful like this, all tied up and helpless.". Fear twists your stomach into knots as you meet Vox's gaze, searching for any hint of humanity in his eyes. His claws rake through your hair, hands finding the knot at the back of the cloth. He unties it, freeing your mouth from the confines of the tight fabric. "What do you want from me?!" you gasp out.

Vox chuckled, the sound sending a chill down your spine, "Oh, princess, I think you know exactly what I want. I've wanted it for so long now.". His fingers drifted lower, brushing against the top of your breast through your blouse.

Trepidation and anxiety course through your veins, sweat building up on your skin. You try to squirm away, but the ropes binding you to the chair only dig deeper into your skin, making you wince. "Please, stop..." you whisper helplessly.

"C'mon, don't try to deny how enticing life with me would be," he explains in a low voice, "I'd take care of you, you wouldn't have to worry about work or money ever again.". He circles around behind you, soft hand massaging your shoulders as he speaks into your ear, "You wouldn't have to live in that crappy apartment anymore. No more worrying about rent, food, anything. It'd all be taken care of.". You turn your head and meet his gaze, your expression unconvinced. He scowls at your expression, red rings appearing in his eye in a pattern. Shit, he's trying to hypnotize you. You have to fight it.

"You will be mine. Your role here at VoxTech has changed, alright?" he commands, the once repulsive idea now sounding strangely enticing. You close your eyes and shake your head, "No! Stop, you can't manipulate me like this.". He scoffs, tired of hearing your rejections, "Oh, be serious! Do you really wanna live out the rest of your afterlife being nothing? Face it, without me, you can't get out of the dull life you have.". As much as you wanted to yell at him, tell him he was wrong, you didn't... You hated yourself for even considering his deal. On one hand, you'd be with someone unfathomably unstable... on the other, you'd be financially stable for the first time in your life... you'd be protected and loved, something you've never had. "...Fine," you hesitantly agree.

Vox reaches out to untie the rope around you, "Good girl.". He takes your hand and guides you to his bed, sitting you down on his lap, "See? That wasn't so hard.". He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, "This is where you belong, Doll. Isn't that right?".

He takes note of your lack of response, grabbing your chin roughly to look at him, "Answer me when I talk to you.". Swallowing your pride, you nod, "Okay.". Vox releases his grip on your chin and smiles softly. He moves in closer and kisses you tenderly while combing his claws through your hair. His kisses were surprisingly soft and loving, yet you couldn't bring yourself to kiss him back.

Hands snake down to your blouse, unbuttoning it until your chest is exposed. Grabbing your wrists, he guides your hands to his jacket, silently asking you to undress him as well. You comply, sliding the jacket off his torso and reaching around his neck to unite his bowtie. The TV demon watches you with adoring eyes, biting his lip softly at the sight. To him, doing this was a sign that you actually wanted him.

"Arms up," you command softly. He obeys with a delighted smile. Slipping the vest over his head, you take off his dress shirt and discard the clothes onto the floor. His chest was surprisingly toned... Not a bad sight to be honest.

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “Like what you see?”. You roll your eyes. Vox smirks and leans in for another kiss, mashing his lips against yours feverishly. He moans softly against your lips, laying you down on the bed until he's hovering over you.

Hands trail down your chest and to your skirt, pulling it down with your stockings and panties. Once fully undressed, his eyes widen with admiration, gently reaching out to cup your breast in his palm, "Finally... Mine".

Vox kneads your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they peak into hard little buds. Leaning down, Vox captures your lips in a brutal kiss, forcing his tongue past your teeth to claim your mouth.

"I've dreamed of this," Vox rasps against your skin, his free hand sliding down to grasp your thigh. Your body betrays you, an uncomfortable slick building between your thighs, causing you to squirm. He smiles softly at your fidgeting, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you, princess.". His fingers find your sensitive nub, rubbing firm circles that send shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your core. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction and more pressure.

Your moans grow louder, more desperate, as the coil of tension within you winds tighter. Vox's fingers never faltered, driving you closer to the brink with each passing second. Suddenly, Vox withdrew his hand, leaving you panting and aching with need. You whine softly. "Not yet, Doll," he whispers, "we have all night, and I intend to make every moment count.".

He sits up, legs on either side of you as he unbuttons his trousers and pulls down the zipper. Sliding off his pants, he discards them onto the heap of clothing on the floor. He now sits before you in his boxers, the outline of his hardened cock visible through the fabric. Pre-cum soaking the stretched underwear, your eyes fixed on the damp spot.

The TV demon hooks his claws under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down hastily without hesitation. His cock springs free, the erect member standing tall against his stomach. Vox's cock is impressive, thick, and long, with a prominent vein running along its underside. It's a terrifying and tantalizing sight, the girthy head flushed a bright turquoise, a stark contrast to his navy shaft. The tip leaks beads of pre-cum that glisten in the dim light. He climbs over you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "Behold, Doll... My body, a testament to my love for you.".

His hands grab your thighs and spread them apart, revealing your slick pussy to him. He pushes into you slowly, filling your needy hole completely, "Hnnf, so fucking tight.". Hips rock into yours at a leisurely pace, savoring every moment of this. His cock filled you entirely and hit your g-spot just right. You couldn't help the moans that fell from your lips with each thrust.

A smile spreads across his face as he pants, pistoning harder into you now. His fingers find your swollen bud and gather some slick onto it. He rubs slow circles, the added stimulation bringing you closer to orgasm.

He keeps pounding into you, each thrust sending shivers through both their bodies. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room along with your soft moans, his eyes locked onto yours. His movements became faster, more erratic as he neared his peak. Lewd wet sounds filled the room as he slammed his cock inside of you, "Say you love me...". "Wha?" you look at him confused. "S-Say it!" he commands shakily, his rhythm slowing as if threatening to stop.

"F-Fuck, okay, I love you.".

He reaches up to hold your hand against the bed, fingers intertwining with yours, "Love you more...". Your hips buck up to meet his, craving release. With a loud grunt, Vox buried himself deep inside you as he came, filling you up with his hot seed. Your orgasm follows soon after, walls clenching around his spent cock. His body trembled against yours as he rode out his climax, collapsing on top of you.

The two of you take a moment to collect yourselves before Vox rolls beside you, a giddy smile on his face. You roll over to face him and immediately get pulled onto his chest, hugging you suffocatingly tight. What have you gotten yourself into? Before you can let the regret set in, you fall asleep.

"Goodnight, my love.".

__

Sunlight creeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his bedroom, causing you to stir awake. Your eyes flutter open, still intertwined with Vox. "Shit, what have I done?" you whisper to yourself, dragging your hand down your face. Maybe you could just leave, change your name, and never come to this sector of the pride ring ever again. Carefully, you untwine your body from Vox's and hop off the bed, gathering your clothes off the floor. You slide on your skirt when large hands grab at your waist. "Where do you think you're going~" a raspy voice asks from behind you. Shit, you got caught. "I, uhm-".

Vox cuts you off and pulls you back into bed with him, "You're not going anywhere, my dear... You belong to me now, only me.". His grip on you was tight and relentless, no way of escape now. You lay there staring at the ceiling, remorse causing your stomach to ache. There's no chance Vox was gonna let you go now, no, now that he had you you'd belong to him forever.

The End.

__ I HOPE YGS LIKED THIS ONE!! PT.2 MAYBE LOL IF YGS WANT IT WKEFBHKWEFWKBHF. my mind is FRIEDDD so if i randomly repeated stuff or spelt some shit embarrassingly wrong im sorry.

ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ:

@takemetoneverland420, @rlini0914, @ithofficial, @angel-fallz, @sweet-radio, @fru1tbatzz,

@janussillyprompts, @leonotlara

[honestsycrets]

dedication | young!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | young geneticist!miguel o'hara x scientist!reader

❛ type | oneshot, explicit.

❛ summary | alchemax is a dangerous place to work. miguel's new assistant may be over her head. maybe he can help her, though.

❛ tags | virgin reader, f!reader, shitty science, plot heavy, loose canon references, literary liberties, loss of virginity, overprotective Miguel o'hara, jealous miguel o'hara, some objectification, workplace politics, aftercare (as requested), corruption (is it tho?), bc what bc, Spanish is not translated, young!miguel, heel-foot fetish, somewhat romantic.

❛ fulfilled request | can we please have a miguel x virgin reader and he didn’t even know until he was already putting it in?? And then voila his corruption kink unexpectedly growS? @a--dedicated--fangirl

❛ sy’s notes | miguel sort of works on that whole corruption aspect throughout this fic, but i wanted to meld these two ideas together to create a reader who is entirely dedicated to Miguel. This piece was a bit long for me.

“Miguel, your new assistant is here.” 

On paper, you’re an excellent candidate for the genetics program. 

An excellent GPA, renowned company internships, decent publications, and a diverse upbringing. It was all good. Great, even. But as the head of the genetics program at Alchemax, he has a little thing called priorities. Interviewing everyone himself was low on the rung of shit he felt like he should be doing. There was, however, one little, itty bitty, tiny problem with bringing you on board.

“Dr. O’Hara? ¿Estas bien?”

That shirt-- is not meant to hold those-- His brain was left field, glimpsing at them. A slightly sheer button-up revealed the outline of your bustier and its inability to conceal your body. They should have been illegal. He was pretty sure they were illicit in the handbook on his table. He should really read that again. Maybe then he wouldn’t be salivating over something as simple as a co-worker-- He needed to get out of the lab. The bleached walls tightened around him, the space smaller than he remembered. He was going to get caught.

Realistically, the lab was full of witty people. Many of them were witty men with subpar looks and stupider dicks. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. Not only because your lips were plump, painted petal-pink, and kissable or because the depth of your sultry eyes went straight in the dick. No, but because that would be improper of a man of his stature to tell one of the only women in his care that she was too gorgeous for the job you were clearly qualified for. 

“Sí, coño,” He fixed his glasses, crooked on his broad nose. He stood up from his desk and grabbed his lab coat, swirling it around his broad shoulders. If he wasn’t mistaken, you tracked the movement with your eyes. “Do you want a cafecito? Miss…”

You told him your name. He mulled it over on his tongue, lathing it in a gentle acknowledgment. Cemented it in a place he wouldn't forget. You tinked your head to the side, your lashes fluttering when he cleared his throat. Great, just shocking-- 

“After you,” he headed for the door. He held it open for you, plastering his back to the wood. It didn't matter. You slid by closer than he’d prefer, your hand catching on his belt buckle with muttered apologies. This wasn’t going to end well. 

Cafecito is an excellent excuse to pull his dumbass together. 

It also calms his nerves, centers his mind, and allows him to compartmentalize. Whether or not you could hold your own wasn’t his issue, his issue was the necessity of someone he could trust. Ugly, beautiful-- so long as they were efficient, Miguel would make due. The cafeteria was a large and clean space. The many tables were crowded with wrap-around stations for poorly crafted, misery-inducing meals. Miguel paid and took a seat at a creaky table. One where he could see the door open, shut, and keep an eye on the comings and goings of meager scientists and annoying managers. 

“You’ll be working with me.” 

You pursed your lips around the warm cup of coffee, taking a ginger sip. He noted your lipstick stain that remained as you pushed the cup toward the middle of the table you shared with him. This damn suit vest was stifling. He gave you a long, slow look, tilting his head to the fact that you’d not drunk anything. It’d be rude to acknowledge.

“Delgado told me,” you smiled warmly. “He said you’re a genius. I don’t know that I believe in geniuses.” 

Hmph. Delgado, things fell into place. That sycophant knew what he liked. He also knew that Miguel was better than him, always was, and always would be. Miguel offered you a slick smile, convinced he could assure you otherwise if he needed to. “Delgado says a lot of things. I’m surprised he gave you to me.”

“Why is that, O’Hara?” the way his name slipped off your tongue was a hot sin. If only he believed in a god. His eyelids shifted over his eyes, heavy-lidded and dark.

“You’re beautiful. He likes to collect beautiful things,” Miguel tried, curious.  Your nails clicked in succession over the table. A repetitive click, click, click. He would be annoyed too if he were no more than a ploy. A distraction. Miguel wasn’t sure that it wasn’t working. His eyes flickered down, catching one of your palms curling into a tight fist, tension rolling through your fingers and up your arms. “He knows I do too.” 

You leaned in, close enough that he could spot the unique freckles spread out in a crescent moon beneath a layer of makeup on your face. Beautiful. “I’m not here to belong to you, O’Hara. I hope you know that.” 

He was off to a great, fantastic start.

 “Understood.” Miguel leaned back in his chair, a smirk creeping up his lips. Or, believe that you believed that. You spared him any more mincing comments. Appeased by his suggestion, you brought your drink back to your lips.

“Good. What are we sequencing?” 

“Me.” 

You swallowed. “You? You can’t be--” 

Mhm, he stared, lips pressed tightly together. “You’ll code my DNA. Then we’ll splice it.” 

"With what?"

"You'll see."

“Is this your little,” you swirled your finger in a circle. “Pet project?” 

Unfortunately not, he would have liked to say. That information was confidential, and though you worked on the project, there were levels to his willingness to involve you in the delicate flow of workplace politics. Still, you might make a healthy distraction from his work. Miguel took a swig of his cafecito, boring into the black substance.

“Something like that.” 

Having a pretty assistant means things don’t always get done according to schedule. Not quickly enough, not by far. There is a time limit to everything at Alchemax. The quicker, the better. Thus this project demanded more hours of his time. The project was spliced between the work required of him by superiors and you, your quirks, and your preferences. 

Miguel has learned a great many things about you in a short amount of time. You don’t appreciate misplaced pet names. You actually can’t handle coffee because of the caffeine or the sugar. He also learns things about himself. How little he likes when Delgado comes to check on progress because he isn’t actually checking on shit. He's checking you out. 

He likes to weasel his nasty fingers around the door, peering in to try and find out what specimen he’s actually working on. Miguel was much too smart for that. His beady eyes caught Miguel over your shoulder, mumbling up to him about a new finding in tests you ran earlier that day. Your face mask twirled around your index finger, finally free and at a documentation workspace.   Funny, because he clearly redacts information from your well-recorded notes on the daily. You refuse to include less.

“Hey Mike,” he said. “How are things… Oh hey, you. You settling in, honey? Mike treating you ok? I can discipline him for you.”

“As if you could,” Miguel huffed. 

But Delgado spying on you, the way you record progress by pouting out your lips, shifting between paper and your lab reports, was intolerable. Because... well, he has sensitive information on there. Your nose scrunches in distaste, but you bow your head just slightly as a hello. He might be his supervisor, but Miguel doesn’t need one to know why this asshole is in his lab turning his smarmy brown eyes over the way you sit: one leg over the other. You seem to realize it too, trailing your eyes over his gaudy suit to Miguel’s sinewy hand on your shoulder. 

“Stop being a creep,” Miguel complained, “She has actual work to do.”

“Actual work? As opposed to--“

“Yes, what you do.” Miguel spat out. You eschewed a giggle, turning your face over a pristine white lab jacket that thankfully, you had no qualms in wearing. Otherwise, he might not finish any work in the lab at all. 

“I supervise--

“You’re still talking but we’re not listening,” Miguel waved him off, plucking up papers by your side. Your eyes snap up to Miguel’s deep chocolate eyes hidden behind the thin frame of his metal glasses, waiting for a proper response. “Goodbye, Aaron.”

Miguel walks to the door, locks it with a click, and returns to your side. You glance at his white lab coat, fluttering around his tapered waist. He loves the way your eyes look at him with a soft, inviting expression, beseeching him to come to sit by your side as he always did. “Not a fan of Delgado, I take it.” 

“Are you?” Miguel sits with his legs spread, his fingers threading through his thick brown hair. You set your papers down, swiveled toward him. The wheels of your rolling chair squeak on either side of his thick, black boots. His eye catches your thick thighs, squashed between your midi skirt, its atrocious slip causing him discomfort. His hand leaves his thick hair, dropping in unison side by side. 

“I can’t stand being called honey, Mike.” 

“Shut up.”

The days proceed similarly. Days filled with brushing past him as he slides in samples and reagents. He might lose a sample, clattering on the floor, and you always rush to help him clean up. Lunch together, because no matter how late he eats, you’re there beside him. Then as night falls, you stay until he has finished whatever he needs to do.

“Time to eat something,” you slipped into his office. The clock ticked past midnight. Miguel flicked through handwritten pages of information that did not need to be recorded in computer files. You watched his eyes scan over the ink on the page, acknowledging you with a grumpy grunt. Not now, not when he was so close to finishing the last section of the project.

“Empanada,” you turned his palm over, placing the flaky pastry in his hand. Caramelized apple. He loved a good apple empanada. He watched as you walked over to the coffee maker, drawing him a warm cafecito just how he liked it. Miguel dropped his pen, stretching out his aching spine. 

“Gracias. From where?” 

“I made them,” you set down the cup a little harder than intended. The surface rippled, throwing hot coffee drips onto his pages. His eyes flickered up from the pages to your eyes. Without thinking, he blathers:

“That so?” A pause. “Don’t you have a man?” 

“Miguel. With this sequencing project, you’re the only man in my life. Shut up and eat the empanada.” 

“Huh. Good. I like that.” He swallowed the empanada with a bob of his head, his tongue lathing over his teeth for any more of the sweet sugar. He stood up, finding your expression soft, drawn out by a sense of longing that he couldn’t imagine he saw.  

“You like my sad love life?” 

Yes.

“No, we have a company event. A ball,” Miguel chided, his tone gentling as he slipped away from his desk, abandoning his steamy coffee on his desk. He backed out of the doorway, “It’s all Stone’s politics. You know how these things are. I have to go. Come with me.” 

“Is that a request or an order?” 

“A date.” 

I’d love to. Your words were the only thing that made tonight bearable. Slinking his tanned skin into a dark blue suit that cinched everything too tight was… unbearable. It clung to his skin like a second skin and choked off his air. But it might be worth it to see your face-- just maybe. He tracked the fluttering tails of fish behind bulletproof glass, following them as they fluttered away into their rock. He wished he could too. 

“Miguel?” 

“You’re here,” he turned around, dropping the champagne he idly held in his hand. It went forgotten by his boot as you called his name again. His gaze fixed on yours, the slinky navy blue dress caused his heart to thrum through his chest, chasing the sight of your body at his feet, picking shards of glass up with the aid of a worker, apologizing profusely for the mess. A soft puff of breath slipped from his lips as you stood back up, gripping your purse a little harder in your hands. He ran his hand over his jaw, drawing himself back to his senses.

“Miggy,” he husked out. “Call me Miggy.” 

“You look handsome, Miggy,” his name felt unreal on your lips until he felt the pressure on his elbow. Your soft hands slunk around his, cradling him for some security in the face of the large doors. He shook himself back to his senses. Right, there was a reason he was here. “But shouldn’t we go?” 

He should have-- but did he want to? No, not really. He didn’t want to see Stone’s greasy face, let Aaron take a peek at how you looked dolled up, or any of the rest of these fuckers. What he wanted was something else entirely. 

“Listen.” Miguel stopped, his other hand coming to the jeweled bracelet on your wrist. The doors to the ballroom lapsed, groups of older men filtering in and out with their pieces of the night: doting wives, longing husbands, and partners that their wives or husbands probably didn’t know about. “Don’t wander off from me. They’re all snakes. All of them.” 

“Even you?” 

“Hermosa,” you didn’t leer at him. “I’m the least of your worries.” 

He wasn’t wrong. The ballroom was dolled up in lush fabrics, fine china, and a copious amount of food as it was every year. Miguel found the attempt to distract from what really went on behind closed doors at Alchemax a bit cloying. This year the music was at least tolerable. It filtered out into the ballroom in a syrupy melodies driven on by the soft, promises of rich men for the exchange of sex. For much of the night, he could stomach the various men poking and prodding at him about his impending research. So long as you were here.

“Miggy,” you breathed, a hot puff of air against his ear. He leaned down, his hand atop of yours. “Will you dance with me?” 

Dance? Miguel had two left feet-- it’s why he was a geneticist. For all the work you did on his behalf in the lab, including this very night, he owed you the benefit of whatever you wanted. He searched out a quiet area, one where the only disruption could be the stream of moonlight in through a window. You preferred it over the wall of vivacious men and over-powdered women. He preferred it over the atrocity of his footwork.

“It’s not much of a date,” Miguel’s hand slid around yours. He encompassed your small palm with his large hand, the other gliding across the soft, exposed skin of your back. You swayed with him, side to side. He was an awful dancer, but there was something endearing about that. He saw it in your eyes, the glimmer of curiosity, gliding your dark heels against the inside of his foot. Damn, he still sucked.

“No,” you agreed, shifting to take the lead. He followed your steps. Right, back, left, up. Maybe he stepped on your long dress once or twice, too. Shock, he cursed again, stepping over your foot.

“You’re remarkably bad at this.” You settled your head on his chest, letting your box steps fade into little more than the shifting of your hips. 

“I know. Let’s just-- sway?” 

“Swaying is good.”  

“O’Hara,” boomed Stone. But of course— peace couldn’t last forever. Like a bullet through the chest, a voice caused him to turn in startle. His tan cheeks flushed with warmth, feeling cut off from the cover of others. He was dressed in the most gaudy of clothes that almost seemed to match the crooked expression on his pale face. No matter how many times he tried to fix it, it always looked… wrong. 

Stone’s hands came together, clapping multiple times to force the crowd of politicians, scientists, and bought-in participants to fade away. His voice caused Miguel to growl, a low rumbly noise that you soothed with your breasts pushing gingerly against his arm. He could do it. He could handle this pompous little shit-- “And who is this beauty? A new girlfriend, perhaps? Fiance? O’Hara could do with a wife. Settle him down, y’know.”

Miguel huffed out of his nostrils. “This is my lab partner,” he cleared his throat, leaning forward. “For… the project.”

“Her? A lab partner? Ha!” 

Shock. He didn’t have to look at you to know you were insulted. Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing out the tension as you smiled through the interaction, taking over for Miguel. “We have measurable results.” 

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet thing. Now, Miguel, Aaron has found a test subject…”

“I’ll interview them.” 

“No need! I--” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Stone. I’ll let you two talk,” you slipped away, your heels clicking off into the busy crowd. Stone was talking. Miguel knew he should listen closely. His half-formed plan to see what the future held for his research was wafting into the air, wisps of it in his ear. Tomorrow-- test-- can you? Panic blinded his senses. He could find you nowhere in the room, and even if he did, would he be too late? 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, it’s… excuse me.” 

The issue with falling for someone was the scythe of his fear. His position was inherently risky. No matter how many groups of people he cut through trying to find you, you weren’t there. No tiny little appetizers of shrimp on half a skewer. No booze, because your head would swim. Not near the bathrooms, either. He rushed down the steps when he found you, just before the large iron gates, staring up at the stars peppering the sky. 

At your feet, Aaron. His drunken fingers trying and failing to guide the strap off of your ankle. You, of course, sat there staring dumbly down at his failed attempts to do something as simple as fix your damn heel.

“I’ll take it from here.” Miguel booted Aaron out of the way. Who, with his sloppy sloshed curses, tried to win a fight with him. He eventually won out. Aaron slunk away, somewhere up the steps. Miguel wasn’t counting. “You didn’t listen.” 

“Hm?” 

Miguel loosened both straps, sliding his open palm under your foot for one then the other. You gazed at him, sliding the black heels off your feet, tutting his tongue at the blistered back of your feet. 

“I told you not to wander off.” 

“I just wanted to see the stars. Besides, it was just Aaron.” 

“It’s never just Aaron. It’s Aaron and Stone.” Miguel’s eyebrows pushed against one another, recording your failure to listen. You crossed one leg over the other, sliding your toes over his silk tie, kept beneath a vest. He knelt before you, searching your eyes for the right answer. “You don’t know… what you’re getting into. I’m trying to keep you safe.” 

 “I don’t need you to. I can take care of myself, Miguel. Please don’t--” you sighed. “Don’t be like them.” 

He knew what you meant. Like Aaron, peeling off your shoes at the sign of discomfort because you were a pretty woman. Or Stone, who couldn’t comprehend your value as a scientist. Those who doubted you because of your color, gender, or a mixture of the two. His mouth twisted in frustration. He was in deep. Whatever you desired, he wanted to give. It came at a price.

“Are you mine,” the words came out stiff, “or theirs?” 

“Miggy,” you turned the word over on your tongue, willing him to stand down. His dark eyes settled on yours, unmoving. “Why do I have to pick?” 

“You can’t have both. You’ll have to choose. One day.” 

Your mind worked. He knew from the way you pursed your lip out, then in, puncturing its pillowy surface with your teeth. You shifted your gaze to the water, the stream coursing down the unfeeling stone. Miguel's fingers ran across your inner thigh, causing you to gaze down at him. The steps of others on the other side of the fountain, fading into the depths of the night caused you to break his gaze. Miguel offered you his hand, fitting the shoes under his other arm as he walked toward the valet. You took his hand and interlaced your fingers.

“Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” you said, though the words felt thready and thin, nary a whisper. Something in the undercurrent of your voice concerned him. A thread that needed to be snipped, convinced of the vileness of the city-- of who you worked for. 

He doesn’t make mistakes. 

But he left the project code on his desk. It should have been there, yet, the corpse of a decrepit, awful creature withered on the lab floor proved otherwise. Someone had taken it because he was distracted. As a result, someone lost their life... even if it was Stone's doing.

Now, scouring through his papers, his hands tremored like a common drug addict. He supposed he was one, a druggie, tremoring like a shot hungry, Rapture crazed-- 

“Miggy?” 

He snapped around. His gaze melded your figure into one beautiful blurb, even with the glasses on his broad nose. It was your voice, coded in something close to concern. Miguel ran his hands through his hair, long strands falling messily over his eyes and cheekbones. He flattened his hands out atop his head.

“What are you looking for?” 

“The notes,” he weathered a breath. He doddered about the room, throwing a stack of paper onto the floor. They crumpled over the floor, mixed projects, notes on the specimen, but none were his. “Where are my notes?” 

“You’re sick,” your voice broke gently, as if speaking them alone helped. A horrid crack of laughter slipped from his throat, drawing into a long lament as he repeated the words after you. Sick, you said, he was sick. If being sick was the least of his issues, he would have been a happy man. Your steps rang into his ear, heavier than before, painful and loud. He crumpled onto the couch in his office, his hands cupping them. Your soft hands coursed over his chest, unbuttoning his starched button-up and sliding it down his muscular upper arms. “This might hurt.” 

No kidding, needles always hurt. But the instantaneous relief that flooded his system overrode the momentary pain. As your fuzzy figure came into focus, he recognized the drug that you set aside. 

“You didn’t--” 

“You were right, Miggy, about the-- Mr. Sims.”  Miguel gazed at you, leafing through novels of notes with trembling hands. He cursed himself for subjecting you to seeing that. Not quite human, not quite... The twisted look on the poor man’s face. What months of research with one another had offered. He would fix it. He knew the research was on point. It was the application that was lacking.

“I have a copy of your notes,” you murmured as if someone could hear. They likely could. “¿Ay, puñeta, dónde está? Ah! Here, here it is. Your… profile.” 

“You kept it,” he glanced down at the hastily scribbled note attached to the clip. ‘Miguel’s profile’ alongside a soft pink heart. He stopped your hands from thumbing through another leaflet. His eyes traced the dry ink of the heart. His thumb moved to stroke it, catching the sight of bubbling tears welling over in your eyes out of the corner of his eye. The tears slid down your full cheeks, triggering his discomfort to well up in his stomach. Miguel shifted closer, flicking fat droplets off your slight jaw.

“Hermosa,” Miguel shifted his head, cocking his eyebrow. “¿Que te pasa?”

“I should have listened to you Miggy,” you began, inhaling air forcefully through your nostrils. Breathe, you murmured. Miguel's soft hand cupped the back of your neck like a collar. You were happy to be collared by his hand, it felt safe. 

His eyes narrowed, thumb caressing the loose strands of hair at your nape. “You should have. You know I'll take care of you."

You nodded.

"You have to be fully dedicated to me.” 

“I am.” 

“Show me.” You fluttered your eyes, the gears of your mind working to understand what he meant. His hand fell away to trace the bow of your black blouse. He tugged on the knot, slipping the bow loose and running his fingers over your exposed cleavage below. “Take off the blouse.” 

Was it necessary? Some might have said no-- but sex, in its connective nature-- was the ultimate dedication. At the end of it all, that's what he craved: your eyes, your actions, all born with him in mind. With trembling fingers, you untucked your shirt from your black slacks. Miguel sat back, tracking the soft lace of your balconette bra teasing his eye. You loitered for a minute too long, enough for him to lift his thick eyebrow.

“Don’t stop now,” he said. Your knees knocked together, slipping the shirt over and off your torso before draping it on the arm of his couch. Your bra followed quickly after, slipping out of the twisted straps. You skimmed your hands over your breasts, holding them for comfort.

"No." Miguel flicked his fingers, motioning for your hands to move from your thick nipples.  You pushed your breasts together, allowing him to marvel at them a second longer. “Que maravilla... You have no idea how long I’ve waited. Go on, take off the rest now.” 

You suckled in breath, sliding the button of your pants loose. Then the zipper, its cloth scratching your thighs on its way to pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, joining them too with your shirt. Miguel sat up, running his calloused fingers over the side of your hip and waist. His thumbs hooked in your panties, drawing them down over your pussy, a moist spot on your panties connecting a small string of wetness to your pussy. His palm slid between your thighs, pinned by your thighs pressed together, whether out of an innate need for more pressure or shyness to show him how wet you were. Hm. Miguel melded your ass, striking your skin with his large palm, it jiggled.

“Miggy,” you breathed, shy and intimidated. “I have to tell you something…” 

“Lay down,” he told you. 

“But Miggy, what if someone…” Your eyes darted away from his, chewing on his cheek as you slid back down beside him. You settled on the couch, your legs thrown over his thighs. The couch was stiff, hard against your neck. You stole a haughty glimpse at his face, focused entirely on coursing his palms over your calves and thighs, then back down to your slight toes. He ground your feet over his stiff cock, obscured by the fabric of his slacks. He felt big-- bigger than you could have imagined from the look on your face. 

“¡Basta!” Miguel growled, “No one is going to come in. Let me see you.” 

You flushed. 

“You want me to…” you glanced down, your curls were soft to the touch. 

“Touch yourself for me.” 

With your heart strumming in your chest, you shifted your hand down, spreading your lips, soft and wet. You were so wonderfully shy to follow his orders, the pads of your fingers rubbing along your outer lips, massaging them warm and swollen. You buried your eyes into your other arm, dragging up and down, over and over. A delightful sigh greeted his ear, ensuring that though you were too embarrassed to look at him, you loved it. He allowed it for now-- because he was a gracious, forgiving man. 

“Shock,” Miguel shuffled at the button and zipper of his pants, freeing himself from his slacks. He spat into his palm, stroking over his fleshy length, squishing his cock against your foot. Your toes curled over his cockhead, engrossed in Miguel’s rumbling pants, the soft pleasure that bloomed from his chest. Your eyes trained on his lips, the slight breath suckled between his teeth. Your fingers glazed over your stiff clit, pausing as though you needed his permission, just how he wanted it. Your sweet submission. 

His eyebrow perked. “You can touch it.” 

“Oh,” you glanced down, tracing the way Miguel fisted himself, swirling up to his cockhead, along fat veins and the bubble of salty fluid on his tip. His permission seemed to spur something else in you, flicking your swollen clit to the sound of his pleasured growling, your own pleasure growing in tandem with his. 

“¡Ya!” he annunciated, watching as you failed to stop. All at once he stopped his ministrations. A sigh escaped his chest as he pushed himself up, smacking your hand away from your puffy cunt. His cock bobbed between your bodies. You wanted to touch it, but couldn’t.

"Wait," you cried out. His cock twitched as he lowered his hips down, drawing sweet lubricant on his cock, stroking your pussy. He leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a warm kiss. He dipped his hand down, his cockhead prodding and poking, dipping lower with the aid of his hand. 

“MiggyI’mavirgin,” you said all at once, his cockhead nudged against your entrance. Miguel’s head about snapped as he looked up, eyes popped wide open in disbelief. Before he could quite form a coherent thought, your hands shot out to grip his suit vest, stopping him where he was.

“¿Qué dejiste? Say that again?” 

“I haven’t… I haven't had sex,” you murmured. He hadn’t put it together. Your shyness, the awkward way you shuffled around, loosening your bra and hiding your perfect breasts from his eyes. The words were finally out in the open but didn't register.

"A..." Miguel fisted his cock, once, then twice, shifting back to kneel before you. Your eyes fell on his muscular thighs, the way his hand fisted his dick. “You’re a virgin?”

“I’m too old for this,” you mumbled, hiding your eyes with your palms. Miguel shifted to cast aside your hands from your eyes, his muscular body caging you underneath, looking for an explanation. “I just. Between school, work, I never had time.” 

Not that he was complaining.

"No boyfriend?"

You shook your head. He couldn't believe his luck. Not only were you gorgeous, but you were untouched. His, completely and fully. He liked it better that way-- to be the first memory smeared in your head. So that when you looked back on this moment, right now, it would forever be marked by his face.

"It's mine," he blurted out all at once. "I want your first to be mine."

His hand dropped down to your cunt. The pad of his middle finger worked at your entrance as though he were exploring the truth of your statement, stretching you with the aid of his fingers. You were tight, it had to be true.

You nodded, face buried deep in your arm. It didn’t take but moments for him to draw his hand back, suckling the lubricant from his fingertips. You distantly registered his words, “Damn it, you... you don't know what you do to me.” 

Before you could say a word more, Miguel positioned the head of his dick against your slippery virgin hole. You clenched, glancing down between your bodies again, as you had a dozen times, anxiously waiting. Miguel hushed you, the repetitive shushing of his lips soothing you into complacency, forcing your muscles to relax. “It might hurt. But the pain won’t last,” he assured you.

He rolled his hips forward. His sharp exhale shook with every centimeter that gave way. Your walls were forced apart, suffocating you on the shock of adjusting to having someone, no not someone, Miguel-- your Miguel, sinking into your tense body. He throbbed, twitching in your body. His hands fisted in the aged couch, catching the breath in his chest. 

“Ay, Miggy,” your nails dug into his shirt, loose around his firm muscles. “Miggy, no puedo,” 

“You can, you’re so good, eres tan buena,” Miguel swept your lips between his, taking the moment of your surprise to bury himself further, swallowed by your cunt that resisted his intrusion. Your lips fluttered in the kiss, keened out a cry. The pain of his dick, forcing its way through your passage is quelled by the knowledge that he’s here, with you, his girth forcing you apart, stretching you apart, seating himself flush against your womb. His voice was caramelized, sugared over, and so good. “Look at how well you’re taking me already.” 

“Coño, that’s a tight pussy,” He slid his hips back, the warm sensation of his withdrawal pulling free before shoving back in, a cry shoving forth from your lips, filling his office and the connected lab with your cries. He might have heard someone draw the door open, his hips driving back in, centered on the magnificent groans that stuttered free from your chest with Miguel’s careful thrusts. You keened his name, a repetitious Miggy, Miggy, Miggy-- it was Aaron, probably. He recognized the way his feet drug on the floor. 

He hoped he didn’t just hear it. He hoped he saw it too, the way his balls slapped against your ass, the mess of blood soaking the already unhygienic couch, the way his cock pulsed. You were blissed out, so full and well of him like no one else ever had-- because you were his, and his alone. It wasn’t just sex. It was more than that. From Aaron, whose shuffled steps fell out of his office, to any other little bitch in the office who had their own gain. 

“Damn,” Miguel shifted back, hooking his hand around your thigh to drag you back onto his dick. He swirled his thumb against your stiff clit, whirling it around in one circle, then another, and by the third your knees knocked together, bearing down on his cock to hold him still. “I can’t--” you stuttered out, I can’t--” 

“You’re going to,” he hissed. “You’re going to cum right here, right now, split open on my dick.” 

With another circle, you croaked an ugly cry, a terrible, ugly cry that Miguel couldn’t find any more beautiful as your body buzzed around him, tightening and squeezing your already tight cunt around him. Blissful pleasure radiated there, riding his dick for the friction against your virgin walls, your thoughts fading into a realm of insistent pleasure, where thoughts were space mush.

Miguel withstood the pressure on his cock,  clamping his hand down on your hip. His thrusts stuttered, filling your belly with whip after whip with his full hot cum. Your body twitched in the throes of his orgasm. He tracked his eyes down to your body, withdrawing with a bubbly pop of his dick from your abused hole, the intermingling of cum and virginal blood dribbling down your cheeks. 

Your gaze tracked Miguel, pressing his lips toward yours one more time. You shifted on the couch, legs pathetically tremoring. Miguel chuckled and walked toward his electric kettle, papers crunching underneath his feet, “Don’t bother moving. Not that you could, anyway.”

He warmed a warm cloth with hot water, testing its temperature on his palm before sitting beside your crumpled legs, spreading your legs to clean his mess and sooth the abrasive way he took you. He spread your lips, ensuring you were clean before he would flip the cloth, dropping it on top of your vulva. 

“You know you’re mine,” he asked, though it came out as a statement. With another cloth, Miguel cleaned his soft cock of the mess, exhaustion of the sex and what was to come returning to his gentle, deep voice. 

“Sí,” you answered. 

“And you’d do anything for me. Only me.” 

The words were laced with something more than a suggestion, but an affirmation of your loyalty. Your love. You pushed yourself up, hanging off his arm after he tucked himself into his pants. “Para siempre.” 

He leaned down, plucking the bundle with his sequenced DNA information. Your eyes coursed the information on the page, darting up to his tired eyes. You wanted to ask why or what he knew. Miguel knew it didn't matter. You were his now, from the top of your head to the bottom of your gorgeous toes. You trusted him fully. As you should. With the empty vial of Rapture sitting beside him, forgotten, he spared you a mincing smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“Good. Let's fix our project.” 

[asocialangel]

a polaroid love

For Christmas, Isagi got a polaroid, and you best believe all his 10 polas would be of you, his muse.

smut – 4k words🧍. Isagi x fem!reader

DO NOT READ IN PUBLIC unless you’re a brave soul wwww. Mentions of sex, slight chocking, p in v, cum.... yadayada. Characters obvi aged up.

inspired by someone here on tumblr ! Who's user i forgot so if you know pleassssse tell me !! Their fic was something along the lines of: where the bllk boys would keep their dirty polaroids. I feel so stupid for not finding it again... Anyway enjoy my first long fic ! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

ꕥ

For christmas, Isagi got a polaroid with 10 pictures to take. He did not ask for that, neither had he ever thought about getting one, let alone actually using it. But he figured, now that it’s here, might as well make a good use out of it. 

His muse was obviously the one and only you. It wasn’t necessarily his intention, but his first and last pictures would be of you. At first he asked you when to take pictures, if you considered they would be worthwhile. Over time, he had his own sense of photographic art. The very first one was his idea though. 

1rst pola: a picture of you two. 

When he got it, he instantly said that the first picture he wanted was one of the two of you, to put in his phone case. Therefore the first picture ever printed was you two hugging in front of the christmas tree. You’re looking at the camera, smiling, his hand on your waist, your head nuzzled in his neck. You were wearing matching christmas sweaters if it matters, yours red, his green. He had asked Hiori, who gifted him the polaroid, to take the picture and choose the settings. And it turned out perfect ! Not over exposed, centered. Isagi was so happy with the results… As promised, he instantly put it in his clear phone case, hiding the dollar bill that was already there. It’s a happy memory you are glad has been immortalized. 

2nd pola: you at a café

His second picture was at a café, not much after the first pola. He had almost forgotten the existence of his camera, until he saw it sitting on his shelf and thought your upcoming coffee date was a great time to take a pic. He quickly put it in his bag and carried on. When you were finally seated he asked you to pose and ! Flash and all, the picture was getting printed. It came out a bit too bright ‘cause he didn’t master the settings yet, but he was happy nonetheless. “Pretty for my first polaroid, isn't it?” “Your model did all the work”, you answered, kittenish. 

3rd pola: you fixing your hair

For his third polaroid, Isagi had decided he wanted to have a candid moment, not a perfected pose. So when he saw you getting ready to go to run errands, he thought “this is the typa moments i want to capture, my lovely day-to-day”. He turned the polaroid on and sneakily took a picture of you fixing your hair in front of the mirror. The flash surprised you so much, you turned around and couldn’t help but to smile at his contented face. To be fair, the picture turned out great. The yellow bathroom light almost gave it a retro vibe. and the composition, for something that was taken so fast, was surprisingly good. Had it been digital, it definitely would have become your insta profile picture. 

4rth pola: you at the beach

The fourth film was used at the sea. You and your boyfriend were on a beach vacation. That definitely was a good place for pictures, had he thought. In the suitcase it went. Isagi was definitely not the type of guy to “save things for the perfect moment, a moment that ultimately never came so you ended up never using said thing''. He was a firm believer in “use it as soon as you feel like it, or else it would end up unopened 5 years later when you are no longer interested in it”. So whenever he felt like taking a polaroid, he did it, not thinking about its price or anything else. Obviously, a vacation in a paradisaic landscape was the place he wanted to have physical memories of. As soon as you guys had arrived at the hotel, you put down your suitcases and stripped down to put your swimsuit on – a baby blue and white striped bikini – and ran to the sand. Isagi did the same, only taking his polaroid with him and a bit of cash cause he knew you would want ice cream. Just as he planned, you first ran up to the water, went in until your claves got wet, turned around, splashed him a bit, laughed at him and exited the water, until you saw the ice cream vendor with his cart, and looked at him with puppy eyes. You didn't even need to say a word, he was already holding your hand as you walked towards the man. You chose your always flavor, Isagi did the same. He had the routine memorized, so he knew the next step would be you tasting your ice cream and immediately asking to taste his before even finishing experiencing your own flavor. “Sure” he said as he brought his cone to your face. Just as it was close enough for you to lick (you were staring at him right in the eyes), he pushed it a little more, until it hit your nose leaving a bit of ice cream on it. You smiled really hard, til the corners of your mouth reached your ears. He stepped back, and clicked the perfect shot. Beautiful you in a beautiful outfit with a beautiful sea behind. And a cute moment. Maybe his favorite pola as of this far.��

5th pola: you flashing him at the supermarket

When the time came for him to take his 5th polaroid, half his shots, you wanted to make things more interesting. Isagi had been so sweet to you these days, especially during these beach vacations. He told you he wanted a more casual souvenir, one in a random place. So the local mini supermarket seemed perfect ! He told you to stand next to the soda bottles for a colorful background. So you did. But you were feeling a little mischievous and also wanted to give your lover a special gift. You were all reddish from the sun, your freckles stood out and your hair was curly from the salt. You looked effortlessly innocent, maybe that was why Isagi loved you so hard perhaps. Since you were coming back from the beach, you still had your tote bag on your shoulder, your mini shorts on, and sand on your knees. Oh and you weren't wearing anything under your shirt. So after making sure you were right where Isagi wanted you in the frame, you hit a pose. “Are you ready ? One, Two, Three !” Right as he said three, you shook your peace signs away to grab the bottom of your shirt and lift it up, showing your beautiful boobs to the entire supermarket. Luckily, it was empty and no one saw it. Clueless, Isagi put down his camera and waited for the film to come out. Perhaps from the small window thing on his camera, he hadn't seen what you did. So he was there, blissfully unaware, looking at the white yet undeveloped polaroid. “Okay, we can get moving now ! As always, the picture’s gonna show up in a few minutes so let’s buy what we have to buy”. Isagi started walking in front of you. As you guys grabbed snacks, you could see him peeping at the picture. Getting chips, he peeped. Getting fruit, he peeped, longer this time. Getting chocolates, he peeped and looked confused, bringing the pola closer to his face. While grabbing chewing gum at the cashier, you could see him getting redder and redder, though he didn't say a word. He quickly put it in his pocket, and asked for the total, stuttering. You could feel he was avoiding your eyes. So to tease him even more, you got up to him and grabbed his arm. You could feel how hot his face was, it was so cute. When you passed the automatic exit doors, he looked at you: “Y/N ! Why did you do that !” He wanted to sound mad but you knew he was just flustered. “Why, are they ugly ?” “No – don't say that ! They are way too beautiful, that’s the problem. I’m gonna cherish this pola, it will be mine and only mine to see”. You laughed and laid your head on his shoulders as you walked. “Don’t play tricks like this on me again, y/n…”

6th pola: a facial

The sixth pola was taken the same day as the fifth. I guess all these emotions had him excited. When you guys went back to your hotel room at the end of the day, you put down your stuff and headed straight for the shower (you hated the feeling of sand in your hair and salt on your skin). As you started singing a tune under the shower head, you heard the bathroom open, but you paid no mind to it as Isagi often entered to take random items and exited as if he was never there. So you continued singing “yeogi pale blue dot, ooh hoo ohh…” When you heard the door close, you sang a little louder as you tried to wash away the shampoo from your hair. But you soon heard the shower curtain wrinkle and water droplets fall on the rug. You barely started to turn around to see what was happening when you felt Isagi’s hand on your waist. His touch felt a bit slippery as you still had remains of foam on you. “What are you doi–” you giggled but he stopped you from finishing your sentence, interrupting you with a kiss. From there on everything went literally steamy, as you guys locked yourself up in the bathroom for quite some time, stopping all the vapor from ventatiling. It did not stop at a kiss, and when you guys finally decided to exit the bathroom, it was only to continue in the bedroom. You had your high quite a few times, so did he. It ended when he came on your face for one last time. You looked at him with lustful eyes, shiny from tears, cheeks flushed pink. You were so beautiful. So much so he wanted to remember your beauty forever. Without letting go of your throat –that he had been holding as hard as you liked– he turned around and grabbed the polaroid that you guys had thrown on the hotel carpet since you were in such a hurry to free up the bed. Because one hand of his was busy, he had to pull on the lens with his teeth, to turn the camera on. As soon as it was ready, he chose the right setting and flashed your eyes almost blind. He did it so swiftly you barely had time to realize it, let alone change poses. You still had your innocent expression on, face dazzled with his milky cum. He took the picture that was coming out and laid it on the bed. He finally unclenched his hand on your throat and with his thumb, rubbed off some of the cum you had on your nose to spread it on your pouty lips. You licked it off and finally smiled, like you regained your spirits. “Did it turn out great ?” “How couldn't it ? You’re so photogenic”. Once the pola had fully gotten his colors, he looked at him before showing you. You were lying in the bed sheets when you took it from his hands. Beautiful. Your big eyes, the eerie white flash on the white hotel sheets, his veined hand, your breasts with pointy nipples and obviously, Isagi’s artistic streaks all over your face. “Are you putting this one in your phone case, Isagi ?” “Want me to ?”. You chuckled. 

7th pola: your wet pussy 

I think at that point you guys had hit the point of no return. Every pola he’d take from now on would not end up in a family photo album. The 7th was taken back home. The vacation had ended and neither of you had wanted to take a pola, maybe nothing was memorable enough to take a pic. So the 7th one happened in your house actually, after a match. Isagi had played against a random nugu team, but somehow had made very beautiful plays. Maybe it was because you, for once, made the effort to go see him. To be fair Isagi was having a really bad season and you kept on taunting him about it. It’s understandable that you didn’t particularly want to see him barely run on the field. But that day you went because you had nothing better to do, and you guys arranged an at-home date, so it was easier if you went home together. You didn't warn him you were coming, you just parked your car and sat in the VIP lounge, close enough to the field he’d notice you fast. Damn had he been good for once in a hot while. He was very lively, made beautiful feints, and memorable goals. He was so attractive when he played… The way his muscles tensed up, how he constantly wiped his sweaty face with his jersey, revealing his abs… Yeah you were no better than a fangirl. Actually you were the fangirl. But to top it off, really tie the knot, something that, unbeknownst to him, physically made you wet… He got mad at other players. Ah, so embarrassing for you but how down bad you were for him shouting at his teammates, borderline pushing the opponents, cussing himself when he missed… You could feel your pussy throbbing all throughout the match, getting more flustered as he began bad mouthing more and more the opponents cause he was winning. When people tried to talk to you, you stuttered, afraid at the idea they could read your mind. Oh the things you were imagining right now. When the match finished, Isagi went directly to you, and changed moods like nothing happened (he was never mean to you like that, to your discontent…). “You came to see me, angel ?” “Yes I figured I’d spare my boyfriend some of my precious time”. You went and kissed him, tasting the salty sweat on his face. You loved him like that, but again, it was a secret. Your kiss was unusually passionate for just a ‘hello’ kiss. Isagi stepped back and looked down at you, chuckling. “Thank you for coming. Let’s go home ?” “Yeah”, you answered as he took your hand and walked to your car.

You were driving when you talked about the match. “I think I went overboard with the rudeness today on the field”. “You think ? I think it was okay. Plus it made them tense, so I guess it worked.” “Tense ? Wait, you could hear them too up where you were ?” “... No, I just, I’m just guessing”. You could feel your cheeks getting redder. “Soooo you know how I am on the field ? Why’d you never mention it ? This is so embarrassing for me y/n…” Isagi closed his eyes while you were pretending to be focused on the road to avoid looking at him. “No it’s not actually. I find it… sexy”. Your cheeks were now hot. “Sexy ?! What do you mean ?! I’m plain spiteful !” “Yeah… that’s kinda what I like. I thank you for not being like this with me cause I’d be constantly horny”. Big blank. Isagi paused as you turned left into your driveway. His mind was working double (So she knew about it ? But she likes it ? Does she like being disrespected or is it just me ? What does she mean horny, if I push her she’ll kiss me ? If I insult her she’ll moan ? What the flip ?) ((Yes I'm convinced Isagi genuinely says that)). You turned the car off, took your keys and opened the door. “Forget about it, I’ve said too much and lost my dignity ‘till the end of our relationship”. You look at the floor sheepishly. “Are you fucking crazy ? You’re so weird y/n !” Isagi looked at you, angry as he caught up to you. You didn't react and went for the door, but Isagi blocked you, putting himself between you and the lock. “Answer”, he forced your chin up with his hand, making you look him in the eyes. Finally you could see the playful spark in his eyes. You smiled. “Yes I’m ‘fuckin crazy’. Cause this is enough for me to want to take my shirt off”. “Damn that’s… crazy. I adore crazy. So when you said wet, you meant… wet ?” “I’m pretty sure I left my seat back there drenched”. Isagi finally let you unlock the door and as soon as you closed it behind you, he picked you up from the floor, taking you straight to the bedroom. “Let me see”. He threw you rather carelessly on the mattress, making you laugh at how everything turned out. He unbuttoned your jeans and took them off for you while you kept laughing. As he threw them on the floor you heard him fulfilled: “it IS true ! You’re so wet only from me ?” You hide your face with your hands, still giggling “I ammm”. As Isagi looked up to see your face, a wide smile on his face, he saw his pola sitting on his shelf. “I am so proud – wait let me show you !” He removed his hand from your inner thighs and stood over you, hands on the bed, stretching trying to reach his camera. When he grabbed it, he looked down and looked at you in the eyes. Your faces were so close to each other. He snapped out of it and went back to business. He touched your wet pussy and tugged on one lip, revealing its pinkish color. Your panties were so stretchy, and so thin, even with fabric, all its topography was clear. And your wetness made the fabric stick even closer to your beautiful inner lips. Your panties were DRENCHED. You didn't lie when you said it made you feel things. Actually, had he looked, even your jeans were humid. He stroked your pussy quickly, and spread your legs slightly more with one hand, as he framed the shot, looking through the small camera preview. “Looks good”. He clicked and you heard the shutter go down. He took the picture and jumped back up to tower you. He looked deeply into your eyes “when you said you loved all of me, you did mean it” “i did, i do”. He kissed you passionately. The polaroid eventually showed its colors. A close up of your beautiful pussy, half of it revealed by Isagi’s fingers, and almost all your panties soaked. “You better not use this kink I have as a secret weapon during our fights from now on, babe”. What a use of a polaroid. 

8th pola: your hands on his dick

The eight pola was the result of a game. Basically you guys went to an arcade and you had set a rule: you would count the winner of every mini activity you did, and the one with the most wins could have a wish realized, any wish. In the end, you ended up winning. And your wish was simple, you wanted a pola that you could keep for yourself. With the satisfied grin you had when you told him what your wish was, he directly understood this would not be a polaroid like the first one you took. You really hesitated for what exactly you wanted to capture, so you thought to yourself that you would see how the night would go and you’d choose the right moment. Isagi looked really really cute, cute enough for you to want to take the picture multiple times. Honorable mentions of when you really hesitated to take the pic: when he took his belt and jeans off, that’s a classic but always has its effect on you, when he towered you, shirtless, and finally when he was eating you out. But you settled on perhaps your second favorite thing ever of Isagi, after his sweet personality: his cock. When you were giving him a blowjob, it really kicked in that, yes, damn his dick was beautiful. So you had him come but forbid him from spitting his cum anywhere but his abs or right up in the air so it’d fall back on his tip (usually he loves cumming on your thighs). So bam, his penis is covered in his own cum, and your beautiful hands –with a fresh manicure mind you– are stroking his dick. “Isagi stay like this. This is how I want the pola”. He looked at you almost embarrassed, he wasn't used to you being the one giving orders, especially in this context. “Can you take it for me ? I love your artistic vision better than mine”. Okay that was already too much for him so now he felt straight up humiliated. “Uhm, sure…” “A bet is a bet, angel”. Now you were using HIS pet name for YOU, TURNED AGAINST HIM ? He was the one who called you angel usually… He pouted, cheeks started to flush from embarrassment and he reached for the polaroid. “Make sure to leave your balls, your abs and my hand on the frame, angel”. He did not answer, he just kept pouting and pressed the button. When he was done you wiped the cum on his dick with your hand, cleaning your hands on his abs. “Good boy” you purred. You kissed him and grabbed the picture. It turned out perfect. “This one’s gonna be in my phone case”. 

9th pola: your naked body

The second to last, 9th polaroid was taken the same night. Had he been honest, Isagi would’ve admitted it was for revenge and to remind you who was in control. But he just said that “the camera was his after all, so he could take pics whenever he wanted”. As soon as you admitted being satisfied with your wish, Isagi pushed you lying on the mattress and pinned you down. “Let me show you a prettier sight”. He edged you for minutes on end, fingering your tight pussy. At the end, when he finally let you cum, you were left breathless and tired. That's when he grabbed his camera back, and took a picture of your naked body, bright flash on, leaving out your face. You could see everything in the picture, your boobs, your pretty hands, your shiny pussy from your own cum, your cute belly, and even your underwear that was still tossed next to you. “I’m the only one who knows it’s you because your face is left out, but I know every detail of you, even the heart shaped mole on your hips”. It was a cool pola to be fair. 

10th pola: his dick in your pussy 

The very last polaroid of the 10 item refill was thought through carefully. Isagi wanted something memorable and quintessential of his photographic journey. So he hesitated quite a long time between a genuinely innocent picture of the two of you, a selfie perhaps, or a nasty, dirty, filthy intimate scene. He was an advocate for the first one while you preferred the latter, that's why he decided to choose while playing rock paper scissors… Guess who won ?? Yours truthfully, obviously !! You shouted in joy and jumped around, hugging him from behind and teasing him. “I know what I want already, babe, something that is fair to the both of us”. You whispered in his ears: “let’s photograph a creampie”. He snickered. I’ll leave it up to your imagination how everything unraveled, but the last pola was very pretty indeed, showing equal parts of you and Isagi. 

A/N: Y’ALL MY 1RST SMUT WAS IT GOOD OR NAH ? I fear it’s not even that smutty but idk, I find fics describing graphically everything boring, like I'm creative enough to imagine which dirty words my delusionalship would say to me… This was longer than anticipated, but I gotta say I'm quite proud ! Plus I wrote it in like 3 days, which is unusual for inconsistent me. I lovvveeee isagi sm, this felt illegal writing cause I was always in my family living room kkkkk. And I was also inspired by my current polaroid I dusted off from last time I used it in 2017 bahaha.

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Aug 26th

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1. hi, this is for itmf! pls rec me trans wangxian fics :3c no modern au tho pls, thank you!!

In Reflection, Truth by Shadaras (T, 55k, WangXian, WWX is summoned into a woman’s body, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Gore, this is a story about being transgender, Dysphoria, Misogynistic Slurs, Ableist Language, it’s not slow burn if it’s going to be faster than canon, Trans Male Character, Trans wish fulfillment, Canon Divergence - Yunmeng Brothers Have A Real Conversation) has wwx reincarnated as a women and trans!lwj if i remember correctly

You might be able to find a few in our Trans Wangxian Compilation

The waters and the wild by SecretStorm (T, 62k, WIP, WangXian, Alternate Universe, Fairy Tale Elements, Pied Piper WWX, Trans LWJ, Many juniors, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Sexual Tension) It's a wip that hasn't been updated in a few years, but really good! Trans LWJ in a canon-adjacent setting.

try author 🔒withbroombefore; they write a bunch of canon-era trans lan zhan and it's all *really good*

🔒 Water Sweeter by deliciousblizzardshark (E, 8k, WangXian, Historical, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Some kind of fairy or spirit or something LWJ, Intersex LWJ, Intersex Character, Fluff and Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Thirst Trap WWX, Topping from the Bottom, WWX’s Canonical Cottage-core Fantasy, First Time, Domestic Fluff, Vaginal Sex)

hold her where you want her by damnslippyplanet (E, 6k, WangXian, Gender Changes, Trans Female LWJ, Female WWX, Burial Mounds Settlement Days)

scarcely trust my candid heart by Deastar (E, 6k, WangXian, A/B/O, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Beta/Beta, Demisexual LWJ, Trans WWX, Fluff and Smut, Female WangXian, Partial Cisswap, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, poor LQR is just trying to be a supportive ace elder and doing a great job actually, too bad it goes right over his niece's head)

you can always find me here by ScarlettStorm (E, 15k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Genderswap, Cisswap, yes it's BOTH, trans woman LWJ, cis woman WWX, they're lesbians harold, the excuciating beauty of night hunting with your bestie, who you're very much in love with, and hoping they love you back, (spoiler: they do), First Time, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, gratuitous descriptions of summer weather)

~*~

2. Hi! This is for ITMF. I want a semi-serious (?) And slice-of-life fic. I dont know how to explain it. Just an example like WWX in his yiling laozu ers tells people in yiling that that person who sells talisman from yiling laozu is a fraud. And then it snowballed to people ask his service to banish monster or something and WWX reputation gets better. But the story focus on WWX everyday life like he make new inventation or trying to describe his cultivation. An example maybe something like Just as the Snow Melts by draechaeli or if a modern fic it is something like I Don't Want to Debut! By countingcr0ws or Anything For Wei Ying by panda_desu. Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, WangXian, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, demonic cultivation, farming, found family, pre-slash, politics, fix-it of sorts) is one that focuses on basically the life in burial mounds

🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 93k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, /Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming NHS, Disabled Character)

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3. Hii!! for the next itmf can I please request some dark lwj?? sugar daddy vibes or just possessive lwj? i read a few mafia fics and I'm craving this trope a bit more now .thank you!!!

🔒 At heart by apathyinreverie (M, 36k, WangXian, WIP, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation, but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Revea, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, kind of, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, Possessive WWX, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ)

🔒 As good as by apathyinreverie (T, 6k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, not a good uncle LQR story, but also not not?, Golden Core Reveal, Kind Of, Golden Core Fix-It, Also kind of, Addiction, Manipulation, not between wangxian, just...War politics, Sunshot Campaign, Not As Dark As The Tags Make It Sound, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ, Tired WWX, Genius WWX, Dual Cultivation, LQR is too old for teenage drama, Developing Relationship)

golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not rated, 95k, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light, angst, fluff, developing relationship, eventual smut, WIP)

~*~

4. Hi! For any future I'm In The Mood For, i'm looking for Wangxian fics that are cozy, like being wrapped up in a warm hug. @emrinalex

crystalized by gusuvibes (M, 25k, WangXian, Modern, Bakery, Pining, Getting Together, Baker LWJ, Nurse WWX, OYZZ in a STARRING ROLE, Bunnies With Bad Names, Elaborate Descriptions of Delicious Baked Goods, Frottage, Eventual Smut, Sexy, Baking, Time) is all cafe, cakes and kisses

🔒 and in the spring i shed my skin by wvlfqveen (T, 11k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Professors, Shapeshifter LWJ, Not Quite Necromancer WWX, Mutual Pining, WWX being an oblivious idiot, Fluff, Love Confessions, yunmeng trio, Family Feels, get JC therapy 2020, Kissing)

i’ll have you and you’ll have me by sundiscus (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern, Established Relationship, Marriage Proposal, fluff with a sprinkling of angst (for flavor), Podfic Available)

Love Cats by so_shhy series (T, 14k, WangXian, Modern, Meet-Cute, Fluff, WWX is wet and adorable in a tree, With a Cat, LWJ had no chance, Don't Try This At Home, First Dates, LWJ likes ducks, WWX does not like dogs, They just have a nice date, picnic dates, Falling In Love, LWJ is briefly less than graceful, there is a spider, but like barely there and totally harmless, LWJ Loves Rabbits, Office Party, LXC is a Good Big Brother, WWX is an excellent boyfriend, POV Outsider, they are in love the world is full of joy, Everything is Beautiful except for baby coots)

The Late Great Custody Debate by stiltonbasket (G, 9k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LXC/NMJ, JC & WWX & JYL, modern, Domestic Fluff, baby a-yuan, Single Parent WWX, LWJ is a confused rabbit owner, nielan are married, nhs is: xoxo gossip girl, Custody Arrangements, engagement, Confused WWX, WWX voice: if i’m the one with the kid why are you suing ME for child support?, LWJ kills his own love life in the worst way, Happy Ending)

Pigtail Pulling by protos_metazu_ison (G, 3k, WangXian, Fluff and Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans)

Just Say Yes Series by edenwolfie (T/M, 338k, WangXian, Matchmaking, Pining, Getting Together, Canon Divergence, POV Alternating, Fluff, First Kiss, Declarations Of Love, Humor, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Good Uncle LQR, Engagement, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It)

🔒 yearned for by spookykingdomstarlight (G, 3k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Future Fic, Pining, Rabbits, Fluff, Kissing, Family)

If your heart is in your dream (No request is too extreme) by Spodumene (G, 1k, WangXIan, LWJ's Birthday, Fluff, Modern Setting)

Oh, your love is sunlight by feyburner (M, 9k, WangXian, Drabble Collection, Tags specified in each chapter, But it's all pretty soft and goofy)

~*~

5. I love your blog so much! It helps me find fics i sometimes unknowingly overlook, so...thank you so much! Itmf fics in Lan Wangji's POV, any AU works but if its canonverse, may I request it be novel or donghua canon please? Also have another request for wangxian recs...jealous Lan Wangji because Lan Xichen flirted with/dated/fucked Wei Wuxian in the past (could be a rumour but I'd prefer him to have heard/seen it happen and decide he wants Wei Wuxian for himself)...any AU!

🔒 The Price of Old Wishes by SoManyJacks (E, 67k, WangXian, Minor canon divergence, Angst, POV LWJ, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, semi-verbal!LWJ, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide) Retelling of the novel from LWJ's pov

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6. hii this is for itmf!! modern au or not but just anything where wwx gets pregnant with lwj's child and runs away for whatever reason without lwj knowing that they have a child together and then years after they will have a reunion and the big reveal. I just love tropes like this and idk what tags i have to place to get these results (so if anyone can kindly guide me on what tags are the best to look for these fics, i will be so grateful!!) Thank you!!!

The Winner Takes It All by YilingSani (M, 46k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, Old Friends, One Night Stands, No Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forgiveness, Second Chances, Inspired by Mamma Mia! (Movies) Teen Pregnancy, Mpreg, mention of miscarriage, Birth Trauma, amniotic fluid embolism) Both feature Wei Ying leaving because he's led to believe that Lan Zhan wants nothing to do with him.

All The Years Lost by UseMyMuse (T, 26k, WangXian, Teen Pregnancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Single Parent AU, Forced misunderstandings, Forced miscommunication, Mpreg) Both feature Wei Ying leaving because he's led to believe that Lan Zhan wants nothing to do with him.

Family Pictures (Or: “Mark Rothko is very, very dead, Wei Ying.”) by belleweather (M, 37k, WangXian, Kid Fic, Post Mpreg, Modern AU, Cindarella Story, Mistaken Identity, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, art conservator lwj, idiot WWX, (he gets better slowly), shockingly little actual sex omg what happened to me, fake/mistaken cheating, no actual infidelity)

Nothing but your heart by airinshaw (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Implied Mpreg, First Time, Getting Together, Angst and Drama, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Whump, Breeding Kink)

~*~

7. Hello, for itmf id like ask for work in modern premises where lxc and others accidentally or semi intentionally killed wwx and conspired to never talk about it. Lwj is relentless in searching for wwx. Canon period is ok if there is no canon conflict as the reason @best-before-end

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8. Hi! For the ITMF, I wanted to ask if there are any fics where WWX died at the end of the war? I don't know if it's hc or canon but I keep having the thought that he didn't expect to survive the war without a core. I was wondering how it would have been if WWX over did it or something and died. I'm looking specifically for him dying at the end when the sun shot campaign isn't hindered by it, I suppose. Thanks to everyone in advance! @hikato-chan

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9. heyo! can you rec me a canon compliant/canon divergence wangxian fic that

A) has one of them explore his sexuality, identity, all that good stuff

B) has both of them explore the above together

basically i just want fics where wangxian explores and accepts their own queerness and sexualities and it's a verh lovely time, hehe

~*~

10. Itmf fics that highlight how sweet wen ning is, and his friendship with wwx. (Also any sweet-yet-badass wen ning stories, esp if wen ning gets the recognition he deserves, with a good title/respect etc.)

~*~

11. For the next imtf, can you recommend me some of your favorite non English FFs on Ao3

I’m sorry, Good bye by NHaraki (M, 35k, WWX/WRH, WIP, Jiang Family Bashing, Time Travel Fix-It, YZY Bashing) I translated it via Google Chrome and it was fine. It's an WWX/WRH fic where WWX returns to his childhood after the Siege. Stuff happens, YZY throws him into the burial mounts and WRH finds him. It's a lot of healing and hiding WWX. Found family. WC is raised better. It's adorable

~*~

12. I recently finished reading a wangxian fic told from Jingyi's POV and in that post-canon fic, everyone loves and lusts for wei wuxian to the point many believe its not even possible for his original body to have been better in terms of attractiveness. So itmf of wangxian fics with like...sorta similar premise in the way everyone loves/lusts for/is awed by wei wuxian to the point of hero-worshipping/using him as a standard for future spouse, etc. Lots of wei wuxian swooning and sighing about not finding someone better than him and so on please!

~*~

13. any truth spell/potion fics for itmf? as long as it’s not a sad ending i’m game for anything involving the truth being revealed in some manner like this!

🔒 in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Cloud Recesses, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the Madam Yu warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric) is not quite the ask but its about lwj who can tell lie apart from truth because of a spell his mother gave him

the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships (M, 40k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal, Happy Ending) Not sure if these fit for 13, but Wei Wing develops a talisman to trace curses back to their caster

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts) Not sure if these fit for 13, but Wei Wing develops a talisman to trace curses back to their caster

when you’re doing all the leaving (then it’s never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 26k, wangxian, canon divergence, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, sharing clothes, sharing a bed, fix-it, golden core transfer) Not sure if these fit for 13, but Wei Wing develops a talisman to trace curses back to their caster

All Things Belong by kuroi_atropos (M, 65k, WRH & WWX, wangxian, WN & WWX, Wen WWX, abuse, whipping, manipulations, smart WWX, possessive behavior, implied/Referenced rape/non-con, past rape/non-con, WIP) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members

Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, WangXian, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters., hurt no comfort for Jiang siblings.) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members

🔒 this body yet survives by RoseThorne (T, 57k, WangXian, WIP, No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals, Near Death Experiences, Attempted Murder, Eventual Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Siblings, Protective Siblings, Soup, Triggers, Protective LWJ, Protective LQR, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Bad Parent YZY, POV Third Person, POV LWJ, reference to poisoning, reference to assassination, Reference to chronic illness, reference to infanticide, Depression, Minor Injuries, Painting, Gift Giving, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Good Sibling JC, Good Sibling JYL, BAMF WWX,, Jealous SS, WWX Protection Squad) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members

~*~

14. Looking for a fic where it’s like “we just did something super duper gay what happened”

~*~

15. I always see fics about people falling for lan wangji’s cold beauty but for the next itmf, do you have any fics for people are crushing on wei wuxian for his looks or charms? it can be existing characters or ocs, idm!

Endgame wangxian though, please!

~*~

16. Hello! ITMF Jin Guangshan surviving until Wei Wuxian comes back to life, so that Wei Wuxian can take revenge/get justice from Jin Guangshan himself. Thank you!

~*~

17. Based on one of Kay's commentaries on a fic rec, I was wondering if anyone had any fics that put Wei Wuxian through an "emotional blender" lmao.

Silenced by Tasharene (M, 63k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Temporary Blindness, Aversion to touch, Fear of crowds, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, WWX Whump, Hurt WWX, Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, world-class troll LXC, see the archive Warnings BEFORE you accuse me of not tagging things!!!) warning- ALOT of angst like alot lot but its a happy ending

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

What are some pro-team green fanfics you would recommend?

Ohh I've been meaning to recommend a few! Most of these are Aegon-centric because I'm generally more interested in him than Aemond, but there are a couple Aemond fics in here as well, and at least one that's Alicent centric.

a poison tree by @branwendaughterofllyr is a Dance retelling in which Daemon and Viserys' younger brother Aegon lived and had a daughter, and that daughter ended up being raised with the green children. Branwen tells a compelling story with great attention to historical detail, and although the story is green leaning, I feel it is fair to both sides. It has many POVs and really tells the story from many different angles, some some reliable than others.

My co-author @aifsaath's series The Skies Are Always Red Above Valyria is an entire Dance retelling that starts with Alicent as a lady at court before her marriage but eventually will progress to the Dance itself (and involves our beloved Baela/Aegon pairing). Aife's fics always feature impeccable worldbuilding and lush descriptions, so check them out.

The Wrath of the Queen by @florisbaratheons has just started but is very promising, featuring a more proactive Alicent who gets a cooperative if reluctant Aegon on board with her plan to put him on the throne following Driftmark, as well as fully fleshed out versions of the Baratheon and Lannister sisters. After seeing Cassandra Baratheon and Jason and/or Tyland Lannister cast as antagonists in dozens of Dance fics it's nice to see them get a fair shake.

The Dog Days Are Over is a Aegon/Helaena fix-it by @franzkafkagfn which they escape to Essos to start over with the kids. She also has another Aegon/Rhaenyra fic that is I'd say slightly more green slanted simply because much of the rest of the canon black faction doesn't exist per se.

This one has been on hiatus awhile but In The Ripe and Ruin by @kingsroad will forever have my heart as the first OC fic I ever got into, featuring gorgeous worldbuilding and one of my favorite iterations of Aegon. He's awful but also incredibly endearing. According to the author it's not going to be super canon divergent, and OC is Aegon's mistress through the Dance! Crossing my fingers that the author returns soon!

Would That They Were Not is a one shot by @navree that deals with Blood and Cheese and Aemond's feelings of guilt in the aftermath. It's heartbreaking! Blood and Cheese happens here the way it does in the book so if the show ends up changing it and you want an idea of how it might have gone down, this one is very faithful.

1968 is a modern AU by @inthedayswhenlandswerefew In which the wife of presidential candidate Aemond Targaryen, who is running against Richard Nixon in the 1968 election, forms a connection with the family screw up, his older brother Aegon. This is technically a readerfic (hear me out!), although I'd really call it a 2nd person POV because the "you" is a fully fleshed out character more so than a reader insert. I do not usually go for readerfic but opened this on a whim because the history teacher in me saw the premise and went "what on earth" and proceeded to be blown away by delicate character work, symbolism, and gorgeous prose. I actually got several friends who do not usually enjoy Dance fic OR readerfic fully invested in this one. Is it pro green? I guess? It's not set in Westeros and Aemond is a real POS but Aegon is lovely and the blacks don't really feature so I think it counts.

[groovebunker]

i’m gonna be obnoxious about this and people are just going to have to be cool about that. yes? good.

happy birthday to what would you do (if they ever found us out) (affectionately known as wwyd)!!! a year ago today, i posted chapter one and (i’m not being dramatic here) i think it changed my life?

little backstory: i’m a dyke with eyes and a type, so when i watched fran drescher making impassioned speeches about labour rights, i was both smitten and reminded that i’d been meaning to watch the nanny. i was also (mostly unbeknownst to me) about as mentally ill as i’ve ever been in my life. i was halfway through a phd which i loved but it was making me so, so unwell. anyway, i started watching the nanny as some kind of escapism and one night, i was like…has anyone thought of fran and cc kissing on the mouth? and they had (obviously) and so i started thinking about that and how whine cellar is a deeply disappointing episode in so many ways and then i was like ‘i can fix that! with a one shot!’.

fast fwd to april 2024. i’m in my favourite city in the world. i’m posting the 11th chapter of that one shot far too late at night (sorry sara). it’s ended up about 85k words long. i’m no longer a phd candidate. i’m significantly less mentally ill. and i’ve spent the last 8 or so months being held by a group of people i would never have met if i had never started writing again.

i didn't quit my phd to write fan fiction, obviously. but writing fic helped me realise how unhappy i was because it was something that gave me joy in a time that was so fucking bleak. i don't really like thinking about it too much but it wasn't great. and then i had this lifeline. these two idiots (affectionate) falling in love with one another, not only in wwyd but all the other fics i was writing. and talking about with people who were commenting and finding me on tumblr. and then, eventually, we weren't just talking about fran and cc, we were talking about our lives! because we were friends!

people will tell you before you start a phd that it's a lonely experience. i was the only history student in my cohort. i only met one of my supervisors in person at his leaving drinks. i have two friends i met at my uni, one of whom was the first person i told that i had to quit. i had other friends and an incredible, loving, patient partner, and they were amazing. but still, it was lonely.

and then i just fucking wasn't.

january ‘24, the squad evolved from being my stupid tumblr tag to being the most chaotic group chat i have ever been part of (until nic got us nicely organised). a week or so later, i quit the phd. and i told a bunch of people i’d never met that i was dropping out of grad school and they were so fucking kind. i will never forget that. the squad, in all its iterations, will have my heart for my whole life. i will not rest until i have annoyed you all in person. my dream is winning the lottery and flying you all to a villa in spain for a week so i can cook you dinner (and cass can make bread) every night and drink wine and splash about in the sun (or in sara’s case, hide in the shade and probably yell at us to put sun screen on). when i say i love you, i mean it so wholly and truly.

anyway, back to wwyd. it’s not my first fic. i’ve been writing on and off for 15 long, long years. but i hadn't written a ton for a while (other than my aloto fic bc gretson my beloved) and i really kind of expected to get a couple of comments and a few kudos. i just had a story that wanted to get out so i published the first few chapters in really rather quick succession (i’m sorry to anyone who reads my stuff, my adhd is too bad for a posting schedule) and people…loved it? like, really loved it. which was so nice because i’m gonna be honest, there was not an adoring audience for my academic work (perils of being a genocide scholar). and i know it's become quite a few people’s comfort fic. i know people have reread it, more than once in some cases, which feels wild. people have left the most wonderful comments, said the kindest things, drawn gorgeous art, made a fanmix (which is fucking amazing), followed along on this journey which i did not expect them to do.

i don't have favourite children (b&w fans, i promise you, the next chapter is in the works) but if i did, wwyd might be one. sure, she's my difficult eldest child. but she got me into a fandom for the first time in years, she’s given me friends i know I will hold onto for the rest of my life, she reminded me how much fun writing can be. and she’s spawned so much more because she made me so much more confident as a writer.

so i don't think i’m being overdramatic when i say it changed my life. if you’d told me all of this when i hit publish on chapter one last year, i would have told you to fuck off. relatively vehemently. but i’m better now. and i’m so fucking grateful for this fic for being part of what gave me that.

anyway, thanks for letting me be a bit self indulgent - promise you don't have to sit through this ever again (maybe for won't you when i finally get it done. i’m sorry. i’m verbose). and once again, to everyone who has read wwyd, given it kudos, commented, reblogged a chapter on tumblr, all of it, my eternal thanks. i couldn't have done it without you.

finally, because i cannot say it enough, to the squad, you have my whole heart. it’s actually mad to me that this time last year, i had no idea who any of you were. your stamp on the last few chapters of wwyd is indelible. your stamp on my life is somehow more permanent than that. thank you. ilsym 🫶🏻

[ghostoffuturespast]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by @streetkid-named-desire! Thanks for thinking of me!

Writing

Quite literally nothing has happened in this department since I finished So It Goes two weeks ago. Taking a bit of a forced writing sabbatical because my work schedule has been insane (and will continue to be insane until August, summer's my busy season) and I've just had a bunch of random social/housekeeping things I've had to take care of on my weekends. Hopefully things'll settle down soon.

I've got a lot of smaller projects on the back burners at the moment that I've been mulling over, but I haven't had the time to do any actual writing. Been jotting down notes when they come to me though. I also need to go back and give SIG a polish too (and take notes lol), there's a lot of formatting and continuity things that need to be fixed.

And I'd like to try out some other writing software/apps. Google Docs is great for working across multiple devices and any general word processor is fine for shorter writing projects, but considering how massive SIG ended up being and the likelihood that Part 2 Electric Boogaloo is probably gonna be a similar length... It'd be nice to have something that's got a wider array of tools, better file organization, and won't crap out on me after hitting a character limit.

(If anyone has any suggestions, I'd be happy to hear them! I've got a couple of candidates so far but candid reviews would be appreciated.)

VP

Still taking VP even though I haven't booted Cyberpunk up in like three weeks. I have a substantial backlog to work through and have the tail-end of the base game missions to post still. I am currently at the beginning of PL again and did take photos of the main missions getting into Dogtown. Got some pretty epic shots if I do say so myself.

Gardening

Trying to see about getting my front yard and my hellstrip converted into a pocket prairie! This is the preliminary design, which makes no sense without the plant list, but hopefully once this gets approved by my HOA I can start working on it. I'm planning on doing my own installation, so this'll definitely be a whole summer project.

Reading

I've been very slowly getting back into reading again! It's been nice. Mostly non-fiction books I can get away with reading at work, but I'm coming around to read folks fics too. It's just finding some free time to sit in my new reading chair rn...

Tagging with no pressure: @fly-amanitaa @merge-conflict @vox-monstera @baublekute @shimmer-like-agirl @mynonsenseistingling @dani-the-goblin

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

“Glad you’re here”

Summery: Kevin needs some comfort one day and you reassure him. a long chat right next to you is just what he knows he needed. thats great, but somehow it leads to him in your bed and your mouth on his. you know... cause you know... you really wanna make sure he knows his worth and how much you love every part of him. oops I guess approximately a 40 min read

a/n: idk what this is man. Tumblr wouldn't let me post a longer than like two sentence post and so it's a little late. I had a dream about something like this happening like months back and now it's finally come to life! or.... not really to life but life enough lol I told one of my moots on here about the dream and she said "that's perfect fic inspo" so here we are. at this point I can't remember if the smut part was in my dream but oh well I aint complaining. I don't know if this is any good cause I haven't written smut in a minute but pleas enjoy and let me know if y'all have any hard thots or future fic suggestions. (it was so exiting when I got my first request you have no idea I felt like real writer who people actually enjoy content from and not much could top that feeling ya know) I probably won't get to them for a month lmao but still id love to hear them!

warnings/info: cursing, Kevin had a bad week, comfort, reader and Kevin’s type of relationship is never specified in this fic if that’s makes sense, kissing, smut, low key body worship, like a little bit toward Kevin from reader, oral sex (reader receiving), also Kevin fingers reader, reader is afab when it comes to smut but is gn otherwise, mentions of having to go get a condom but no sex is described, think that’s it! misspelled words and incoherentness im sure, ill fix them soon, Pls lemme know if there’s anything these

THIS IS SMUT SO MINORS DNI AND FOR THE LOVE OF GAWD HAVE AN AGE INDICATOR IN YOUR BLOG SAYING YOURE NOT A MINOR SO I DONT HAVE TO BLOCK YOU! ID HATE TO BLOCK SOMEONE WHO DOESNT NEED TO BE BLOCKED thx

~this is simply a piece of fiction. my imagination onto "paper." this is in no way meant to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~

••••••••••••••••••••

a familiar knock on your door brings you out of the daze you once were in. For once you weren’t doing anything. Comfort flowing through your veins as you relaxed. You weren’t expecting anyone…. You glance at your phone to see Kevin’s profile picture pop up. A candid photo you took of him while he was laughing at something or the other on a Ferris wheel when you two were just friends. The message simply said “hey it’s me” weirdly dry and weirdly simple coming from him. but your heart still leaped for joy out of you chest when you read it. Somehow more peacefulness coming over you as you walked to let him in, though you were scared something was wrong.

you swing open the front door, still halfway looking at your phone. I mean, if you had a cute picture of him that was at your disposal at all times in your phone, you'd be looking at it still too. it was one of those pictures were only you could see. something for your eyes only... that sentiment seemed to be a running theme in your relationship. not that you minded, though. you welcomed it. relished in the feeling of being so damn close to him.

you don't even get to let out a word before his arms are around you, his head is in your stomach, and his heavy breath his flattening out your shirts wrinkles. he's on his knees as first but when he gets up you stumble backward further into your place, shutting the door with your foot. he steps back, half to regain his composer he lost the second he saw you worried about him, and half because he realized he was probably too forward. he kicks off his shoes and before you know it you can hear little quiet sniffs coming from the man.

"you good?" you ask, even though you knew that he wasn't.

he peels his face off your shirt as you tuck your phone into your back pocket so as to not have any distractions. you wanted, no needed to be fully there right now. completely zeroed in on him and whatever he needed. In a flash it was like a full 360 realization came onto Kevin. In a flash he's pulling away from you and trying to compose himself. "God, im sorry. I-I didn't mean for my visit to turn out like this." he just wanted to see your face, talk a little bit, not to break down the second he saw you. His eyes dart around as he plays with his own fingers.

You take his hand, guiding him to sit down where you previously were. and god does he really want to scoot himself as close as physically possible to you. but he doesn't want to come off too strong, or like he was needy or anything. but now he's sitting here in arms reach of you and he's nearly screaming inside for you to pull him closer. "Don't be sorry. I’m glad you’re here.” you tell him, softly but firmly. it was more than that thought, and he took the opportunity you'd given him to tell you why he was upset. "I dunno, it wasn't one big thing or anything. but sometimes... sometimes I feel like im too much, you know? or that im not doing enough all at once. But hat probably doesn't make any sense though. kinda stupid, right?" your eyebrows creased together like you were asking what the hell he meant.

Over the course of the better part of an hour he tried so so so damn hard to explain to you what he was feeling and why he thought his entire body felt like it was aching because of it. You listened for a while until you got up to bring the both of you a snack cause he looked a little hungry. he wanted to stay close to you, though, so he followed you to where you kept your snacks and back. and though he was siglent on your short walk, you could almost feel the heaviness that was within him. it seemed to seep through his pores and straight into the air. but you still listened to him, trying to put in what you thought when he needed it.

through broken sobs and quivering lips he had to bite to stop from betraying himself and what he was feeling, he stoped abruptly. "...Like right now." he said simply. "What do you mean?" You prompted. "Are you..." he needed to collect his thoughts and pick himself up, now. "Are you embarrassed of me?" You crained your neck forward, as if you somehow hadn't heard him properly and your ears had tricked you into thinking he had said what you thought he had. "um excuse me? yeah, im gonna need an explanation." you chuckled. and he couldn't help but smile along with your slight laughter. it was infectious. he didn't know why but it seemed like whatever you where feeling he started to as well.

"So far you've spent at least thirty minutes here with men trying to help me." you said. but you still weren't understanding. that was just something you'd do for him. as he'd readily do for you. it came as sedan nature to the both of you and you liked it that way. how you both were so close that either of you could just drop whatever you were doing and help the other. "Does that not seem bad to you?" you simply shook her head. "I had a dream that you were embarrassed of me and how...." he searched for the right words, "you know, needy I can get. And I know it was just s stupid dream, ok? But then I actually started thinking about it." scenes flashed through his mind, burried deep into his heart of all the times you've cared for him. whenever he's feeling insecure and he either came to you about it, or you noticed it, you helped him out of his rut. All the times he's felt sick you've rubbed his back and brought him a cold compress and Vix vapor rub. and sure, he's done these things for you as well... but right now it seemed like he was all the work and you just had to pick up his pieces.

he hated the feeling of causing you so much trouble. and he knew what you would say, too. that "oh no you're not. you need to stop thinking that way about yourself." and he knew it did. he really did know that. but what he also knew was who it seemed like he was acting. no, how he was acting. he wasn't coming to you for every single little thing but sometimes it felt too close to it for his comfort. and not only thing, but, though he knows how you've told him a million times that he's welcome and encouraged to talk things out with you or even just ask for some comfort, he's also well aware how much he's been doing it this past month.

How was it not driving you nuts already? it was sure making him pace around his living room thinking and hoping that you weren't mad at him for it. And he had tried to hold out, ok? he really did today. But then he started thinking about how you probably felt a little suffocated by his latest actions and how it portably looked to outsiders and it made him get all up in his head and that made him only want to come over more. eventually, though, he broke and now here he was feeling bad about even being here.

"you look guilty." you note. "that's cause I am." he admitted, "im sorry that its probably a little weird me coming over like this. or at least me calling you for like an hour because of these things." he swallows thickly, looking at his swinging feet, unable to stop their moving by the floor. you were about to say something but he grasped your hand, blinking a few times and you know you should just let him talk for now. "Is this not embarrassing to you? like, when you talk to people how the hell do you even mention me doing this? I wouldn't blame you if you don't.... you just, seem so happy even when im acting like an actual wreck and y-youre not tired of it? or ashamed? or--" you pull him into your chest, leaning back and bit and letting him fall into a half laying down position, wanting him to be more relaxed.

"you do this for me too, you know?"

"Yeah, but im not the now showing up and the others door like a mess right now. making you take time out of--"

"yeah, but..." you trail off for a moment as he lifts his head up to look you in the eyes. His dark soft hair is sticking up, almost comically, from you pulling at his. more massaging his scalp than anything though, but by the way you gently tugged at his strands he seemed to melt into you easier. "that's what the both of us are here for, no?" you feel him nod into your chest and your small laughter from it causes a vibration to go through your upper chest where he lays his head and into it. you take a deep breath, spurring him to do the same. and for some reason, it really calmed him. air filling his lungs along with you, it felt-- at least to him, that it connected the two of you. releasing, but really it felt like releasing all the negitivity and heaviness that weighed him down. stuck to him like a sickness, and felt like a glue on his lungs that made it hard to breath.

but now, with a clearer head, he listened to you. listened when you said there was no place you'd rather be than with him right now. listened when you told him that no, he's not embarrassing just because he has feelings and lets them out. and he even listened when you told him you're proud of him for still coming to you to talk it out. you wiped the tears from his cheeks with your thumbs and ran your hands through his hair so much it stuck up almost like from electricity. and among talking about other things, the day grew along side the both of you and your chatting. eventually his mind was eased and now taken off of what was bothering him.

===

He wondered how you could even do that, as he lay practically on top of you, wanting to fuse your skin together if he could just to get impossibly closer.

He leans in to whisper in your ear, “please. I-I I really need you closer” you look down at your bodies practically fused together, him basically on top of you, chest to chest and his warm nose, reddening from crying pressed into the crook of your neck. Puffs of air from his heavy breaths tickle your skin and you can’t help but smile as you pull him closer. “We’re already so close, Kev” but really, you knew what he meant. You felt it, too. His hardening dick pressing against your thigh. You could tell he’s trying to be inconspicuous about it, scooting away but you just pull him closer, fingers slicking around his back, thumb padding against his spine.

but you can feel him shiver against you. and not in the typical "I feel so good im practicluy purring" type of way. "You cold?" You ask. Though you know he wasn’t. The sound of him moving further on top of you come to your ears before his voice does. “You made me feel so good.” His face presses further into you neck, pressing a kiss into your rapid pulse. “I wanna make you feel good too… that ok?” You didn’t even need think about it before you nod.

a second later you're in your bed and he's laying on top of you just like before.

He keeps kissing at your neck. the pecks getting longer and more sloppy as the hand ticks on the clock, the only other soul in the room with you. he pulls you up with him so he can circle his hands around your back as yours travel under his shirt, riding it up and feeling his bare skin like it was second nature to you, but exploring like it was new to you all the while. a small smile graced his face and pulls his lips upwards ad he closes his eyes and just feels. feels your fingers on him and relishes it. his lips detach from your neck when he feels you on his lower abdomen. god he really looses his focus too quickly.

But how could he not with you, you and all your splendid glory right in front of him, feeling him up and now slipping your hands underneath the waistband of his pants, making him see stars when you start rubbing his hip bones. it made him get all tangled up in the moment it doesn't even register how you start laying him down. and at this point he doesn't really care as you capture his lips in a searing kiss that leaves the both of you feeling woozy. "open your eyes." you purswade gently. he does so, only for him to tug at the hem of your shirt. "Please," he sounds way too whiney and out of breath for the little that you have done, but he can't help it, getting a little ovewelmed by the thought and look of you, "I need more." you sit up on him, legs swung over either side of him and already dripping heat right above his.

You toss your shirt to the side and within a millisecond he's pulling you back down to him, wanting and needing to feel you on him. your chest presses against his and even though you're still wearing a bra he feels like he's in heaven. and "more" is what you start to give him; kissing down his body and telling him everything you love about him. starting with his shoulders, "you carry so much weight, mediforecly but still. Iove that bout you; how you're so willing to help shoulder a burden." you look up at him for a second, taking a break from just mumbling against his skin, "It also helps how they're so nice looking too. Gorgeous." you move to his chest, "I love you chest, know why?" he shakes his head, "its where one of the few biggest hearts I know is kept." you kiss right by where his heart is, hearing it beat rapidly under his burning hot skin. you go a bit further down his torso to his lungs, "these help you take deep breaths to calm down. im happy when you're calm so I love them." his eyes squint in a smile form your words

but suddenly he realizes as you start to kiss your way further down that-- “This is supposed to be about me making you feel good.” He pulls you up to his lips into a searing kiss that your body can't help but freeze in place from. his hips snap up into yours and you let out a surprised groan from the feeling. the pants you were wearing were thin, but still too much of a barrier from him. he stays underneath you, but now he's a bit more in control, wanting to make you feel above and beyond the love and want and all around good feeling you made him have all up until a moment ago. he sits up and his hands brush up and down your bare back, landing at your hips and keeping them there.

he just wants more. more more more until the both of you bursts. his mouth moves against yours in a way that made you think he was a dream. he sensed it too. and he only wanted to build on that feeling. he moves down to your collarbone and he has to tare himself away so as to not leave a hicky. he has to suppress a loud moan when you start moving your hips on him, grinding on his dick. he grips your hips tighter, thumbs pressing into your sides and the both of you parting lips just for a minute to look deep into each others eyes. he's knows that stare on you, though. a look of longing he wants noting more than to satisfy.

His hand hand travels down your torso to palm your throbbing core needing attention. the heel of his palm rubbing at your clit while his lingers work on your interance. even through the clothes you can't help but sigh in pleasure from his actions. Eventually you just can't take it anymore and you start humping his hand, wanting to realize but also not wanting to peel yourself away for more than a moment to take off your bottoms. under you, Kevin, hard as ever now, let out a whine into your mouth at your lust for him. it seemed like you no only had one thing on your mind and he loved it, chased after that need you felt and tried to expound on it.

you break away from him a moment later though cause, fuck this really isn't getting me anywhere. And help him tug his shirt up and over his head he complies it in his hand and puts it to the side to be long forgotten as you link your hands behind his neck and lean back with him as he chases your lips. he smiles into the kiss and it makes you do the same; a quite moment that wasn't ruined by him gently pulling at the waist band of your bottoms in question and you nodding against him. "oh yes please," you breath out, almost relieved, "I have to have you. thought you'd never ask." your tilt your head back, though you're not quite sure what for until he plants another open mouthed kiss on your sweet spot and you feel like blushing and moaning at the same time.

"Me too," he admits In your ear almost as a whisper, a secret only the two of you were able to share. "I wan-- need you closer." his fingers dance down, down, down, until he finds the wet patch you've made on your underwear. God he fucking needs it on his face, tasting you, smelling you, feeling you around him. better yet, why not get it straight from the source? damn it now he needs you on his face too. all the while he's rubbing you just how he knows youll shiver with pleasure and writhe on top of him, you're eyes are closed. and now thinking of it... and wanting you to know about it, makes him get a little bit bolder. "eyes on me, darling," he mimicked what you had said to him earlier. except this one was less commanding. he starts rubbing faster on your clit, making you pull him closer.

he can't take it anymore; with his free hand he begins to palm himself over his pants "I need you to see how you make me feel." you open your eyes to see the erotic sight right in front of you. his head thrown back and stroking himself over his sweats. you can tell he doesn't know what to make or do with himself. and to be completely honestly neither do you. his tongue is poking out to wet his lips as a high pitched keen meets your ears.

He feels like he really does need to-- need to show you how hard you make him. how else is he supposed to help you to understand all that he wants you to right now? You scoot his hand out of the way and replace it with your own "do I get you like this?" he presses his lips together and nods, barely able to form words with your hand moving on him now. "mmhm only you." the confession made you smile but you weren't able to continue the moment when he shifts so that you drop your hand and lay down further. "remember? you." he chuckles. he returns his hands to your heat, you tugging down your bottoms in the process.

Now that he sees you clad in just your underwear and bra, he can't help but crawl back up to eye level and give a quick peck to your lips. it was too fucking sweet to describe. with a cute smile pulling at his lips, he backs up and his fingers return to pleasure you. your underwear was sticking to your pussy uncomfortably now, wet patch now more visible. and as much as he wanted to tease you more, he also knew what you needed. he rolls down your underwear just as he would any other time. that was one of the things you loved about him, you thought as he dips his fingers into your wetness, testing the waters. you didn't know he was going to come over, you deffintly didn't know that it was going to turn into this. it wasnt like you wore anything special and dressed up, but he still loved it all. noticed was amiss, noting changed.

that was one of the reasons why you didn't mind having to spend so much time comforting him. cause he does the same for you an no matter if you dressed up or not he still gave you what you needed, not just sexually but in general. so of course you'd treat him the same way.

You make a sound of pleasure and now he's hooked, chasing more form you. dropping his entire body down further, he comes face to face with your glistening cunt. the fact that he made you like this-- god can barely think because of it. he takes an experimental lick up your folds and holds his tongue at your clit, putting hot, wet, and steady pressure on it. the muscle moves a bit more, kitten licking at your hole, sucking at your clit, and doing all the things that makes you wanna combust.

his tongue goes in and out, poking inside your gummy walls. and he feels like he's in heaven with you right now. He can barely handle it as he feels you clench around noting and you whisper out his name over and over again, pulling at his hair, tighter than before, bringing him impossibly closer. he grasps your hips to pull your up and even closer. the new angle hitting just right you can't help my moan. "fuck-- I-- I need--" you don't even know what you need at this point you just want more of this, more of him. He's eating you like a starved man, already drunk on how you taste on his tongue, wanting more.

While his tongue works on in between your folds his nose is getting wet bumping at your clit. His hands on your hips makes it perfect to grind on his face. but he doesn't mind, invites it, actually. He just holds out his tongue and lets you grind your way dangerously close to your high. He starts to move along with you, matching your movements as his dick twitches in his pants. the added pressure is just what you needed to go over the edge. you start to slow your movements on him, him picking up the pace so to help you ride it out. his hips rock into the mattress, wanting and needing to feel more. you're sounds proving to be too much without himself feeling something. You're moaning and groaning and whining along with him against you as you feel pure euphoria rush through you like a wave of perfection.

You try to even out your breath as he rubs at your hip bones, sitting up to keep himself from grinding on the bed, he can already tell he's not gonna last long enough to have you later too. "You--" you don't even know what to say as he brings you up with him, you know sitting on his thigh and you don't know if you can take it anymore. neither can he, seeing you cum-- it took everything in him not to follow along with you. he can't help but thrust his hardness up, barely feeling you in the end but he needs something, anything. just the thought of himself feeling your slick on his cock. that's all he needs, really; your wetness on him. he just needs to feel it. so he keeps going, angling his thrusts towards your pussy. he fucks himself into you, needing to feel you on him.

he locks his lips on yours as you rut yourself on his thigh. your fingers that were in his hair unties his pants and inches them down enough so that he get thrust up, getting his tip wet through one less layer. The feeling makes him press his lips harder on yours. he whines into your mouth and you don think you've ever heard a sound prettier. his hands are griping your hips, traveling to your back to bring you closer. you're grinding on his thigh as he tries to grind onto yours, the slick that travailed down your thigh making it easy to slide, rubbing up and down, his mind blank.

he's almost looses sight again with his lips moving in sync with yours. He breaks the kiss to watch his own hand go down to capture your release on them, fucking it back into you when you urge him to hurry up. he curls his fingers right where you want him to, pumping them in and out at the same pace he was thrusting into your thigh. you had just came so the feeling was ten times stronger than before. He senses what you're feeling and pecks your lips one more time before driving his fingers back into your heat. "give me one more? please I know you can." he nearly pleads with you.

You hump his palm, chasing your own high. a slow and intimate grind but enough to get you what you want and need. he feels woozy because of the feeling of your cream lathering up his fingers and forming a ring around the base, now dripping onto his palm as he watches his fingers roll in and out. a moment later and you're releasing all over his hand, his whining while he humps your leg taking it to a whole new level as you moan out in pleasure. and now he's rubbing the slick you've given him back into your pussy

your lips are back on his in an instant, unable to stay away for long after the leg shaking orgasm he gave you. he looks down at his boner. not realizing he had cum along with your with his release making a wet patch all on the front of his boxers. "you're still hard?" you chuckle. "For you? always." he smiles, more of a smirk than anything, back at you. breathing heavy and labored and eyes squinted.

"Do you have a condom?" he asks, half actually asking and half wondering aloud if you wanted to go any further, "I don't think I can keep on seeing you look so perfect without doing anything about it any longer." he wonders if he's even making sense. but when you peck his lips and reach over to your nightstand. he freezes, but he's back to life in a second when you turn to him with one.

“aren’t you glad you’re here?” You laugh, “you get to share you feelings and we get to have each other.”

He’s sure the way you said it must be a joke I’m some way but yeah, he's really glad he came over.

~end~

please leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed!!

taglist: @itz-yerin

©️2023copyrightofshutupheathersorryheatherr do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works even if you give me credit

[brownsplodge]

An over the top and in depth analysis on the rottmnt Family medic candidates, and in what order I’d place them to be in as the most suitable medics(real: Splodge sucks at writing short titles)

I’m not usually one for making hcs outside of the known canon, but there are lots of hcs in rottmnt that i love/absolutely agree with. I’m not sure about this one, i don’t feel there is a fixed medic in the family, but it does make sense ngl.

I’m gonna analyse each family member to tell which ones would be the best to fit the role of medic(or replacement Medic).

Raph: Raph would be very likely to become stressed even if someone skinned a knee slightly, or go over the top if one of his family members were injured(not really a bad thing, but it could make them uncomfortable). He wouldn’t be a great medic, not only because of his obviously larger and therefore more clumsy hands, but also because you have to stay calm, or at least be able to keep a cool head when you treat wounds, especially if they’re bad. Raph is in my opinion probably the worst candidate for a medic in most situations, though he could be good if he stays calm and is careful, as he is very motherly and he would probably be good at looking after someone while helping them.

Leo: Leo is as far as I’m aware the most popular candidate for medic in the fandom, and I do see why. He is smart enough to learn something if he wanted to or felt the need to, and he is the best at manipulating others into thinking he’s calm or laid back even in the worst situations. He’s pretty neat in his own way and would probably be able to make whoever he’s treating be so annoyed they don’t even care about being wounded(/pos/j). He’s likely to do it correctly, unlike his other family members, all more likely to go over the top or not know what to do.

Donnie: Donnie was at first my most logical option, but I realised the flaw in this quite fast. Though he’s very smart and no doubt has excellent knowledge in lots of Things, his interests are mostly in technology(that can be useful in certain medical situations, to be fair), and even though it’s likely he knows in theory how to treat wounds, he easily gets nauseous(as seen, especially in the film, a couple times when he feels sick at seeing certain slimy gooey stuff(unspecified to avoid spoilers). Also, agin like with Raph, he might go over the top, and not just because he cares about his brothers but also because he seems like exactly the kind of guy to be a bit of a hypochondriac.

Mikey: Mikey might be a good medic ngl. At first I thought obviously not, but I realised he might not be that bad. He could probably learn medical knowledge(with a bit of difficulty probably), even if his attention span seems a bit short, and other than knowledge, he might be quite a nice caretaker to have. He’s cheerful so you are likely to feel less stressed, and I bet he has a ton of colourful plasters. If the injuries aren’t very bad, Mikey would be a great medic, and the main reason I’m saying if they’re not bad is because he’s pretty young(to be fair not a lot younger than his brothers, but still young), and learning medical knowledge takes time and a good concentration is definitely a plus(which Mikey doesn’t really have). He’d probably be a pretty bangin’ therapist though.

Splinter: Oof. I’m not sure actually. I know that splinter at least at the beginning is pretty neglectful, but he would definitely try to help his family if they needed it, we all know that. The problems I see are that firstly, similar to Raph, he doesn’t seem to handle stress all that well. And secondly, the boys are likely to injure themselves doing something they weren’t supposed to, so they wouldn’t go to ask him for help.

April: I’m a little surprised that April doesn’t really appear as a medic in any fics/hcs. She would, in my opinion, be a pretty good one. She’s a little impulsive, but that’s mainly when it comes to battle, and she would probably be the smartest if it weren’t for Donnie. As far as I’m aware she doesn’t get nauseous as easily, and she can definitely act fast and smart even in dangerous/stressful situations. She probably won’t go over the top or … under the top I guess, and she’s a great improviser, probably would be able to patch someone up on the spot if needed.

In conclusion, I think that even though Medic Leo isn’t a bad hc, I think medic April makes more sense. The order I would put them in would be:

April

Leo

Donnie

Mikey

And Raph and splinter tied.

I hope you had fun watching me rambling without proof or rewatches and I bid you farewell and good luck on your turtly adventures

[marbleboa]

Having a bunch of Koyama thoughts, particularly about the early part of his and the other Scars' redemption arcs following the disbanding of their division. As fun as it would be to write a fic about it I definitely don't have the time to do so, so! Text post it is.

When I was first watching S2, seeing Koyama among the group of former Scars who were trying to put their lives back together definitely surprised me a little. "The Scars did shitty things" is a given, but when it comes to Koyama I feel like his wrongdoings are more...personal to a lot of the audience, if that makes sense. His fight with Mob--if you could even call it that--had this drawn out, visceral brutality to it that I don't think any of the Scars replicated, except maybe Muto. If Koyama got his ass kicked during the end of S1 and went poof along with said Chin Man and Miyagawa, I wouldn't have been surprised.

Don't get me wrong, I love where his arc ended up, and I think the Scars' stories fall in well with the messages the show was trying to convey. That change in him feels like a big leap to make, though, so it's been fun to try to fill in the gap. I'd imagine that transition period after the fall of the 7th division must've been...pretty messy(gonna ramble more about this under the cut)

The blanket explanation the Scars gave was how being beaten by a bunch of kids snapped them out of their flawed way of viewing the world, which makes sense—for the majority of them, anyway. But Koyama wasn’t around for the Great Reigen Roast of 2012–you could say the same for Terada, Takeuchi and Tsuchiya as well, but while all the Scars have been characterized with a certain immaturity towards society and the like, Koyama’s blaring faults directly clash against any kind of progression.

He’s the school bully that gets in trouble and only resolves to get revenge, that one little kid who’d refuse to ‘lose’ when playing make believe by coming up with all sorts of excuses. Judging by the way he’d lash out at any sign of his strength being questioned…I don’t think his pride would’ve let him have that swift moment of clarity like the others(even after being turned into a human ping pong ball by a middle schooler). Far from it as you could go, in fact—that humiliation would only make him double down. Not that the other Scars aren't drastically affected by the whole thing, of course, but Koyama…Koyama’s a prime candidate for making his frustration everyone else’s problem.

Hell I could even see him getting it into his dumbass head that he could find a place in Claw again if he just took down the ones that put an end to the 7th division. His fellow Scars who failed—well they just didn’t have the grit to fight their way past this setback, lost their teeth, but not him. He thinks he could succeed where they failed, and rise back to the top. Shallow as hell plan, painfully desperate, but it’s all he has now. I’m sure that would go sooooo well for him, especially when the rest of the Scars find out what he’s up to while they’ve been trying to fix their lives. Lmao.

[fallingforfandoms]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @all-my-worlds-a-stage (and sorry for only getting back to you so late, but, you know, ideas had to be dwelled upon, etc etc etc)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

14 - could have been less if I had been a a more responsible human being with more impulse control, could be more if I wasn't such a goddamn perfectionist, sigh.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

332,695 (because my projects usually escalate way too quickly, sorry not sorry)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Officially, Tatort - Tatort Ludwigshafen to be specific. Currently peering over the edge for Münster and Wien. And I had a huge obsession with the MCU and The Witcher and Sherlock before, and still have half a novel based on The Night Manager up on my drive somewhere. And then there was also that missing scene from House of Cards that started it all on AO3 (but it's buried beneath a bunch of Lena Odenthal content now, thankfully).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Sonne, See und Sterne: The summer holiday fanfic that I wrote throughout December and January (... sounds pretty normal imo) for Lena Odenthal and Johanna Stern and that I still like to read from time to time to dive back into that vibe :')

A Scarred Sunrise: My debut fanfic on ao3, the infamous House of Cards oneshot that probably only got this many kudos because it's not part of a German niche fandom :'D

The Hand Is a Servant of the Heart: The very first Lena/Johanna fic that I published, yet another missing/adapted scene from canon (aka from one of the more traumatising Ludwigshafen episodes that needed some sort of ... band-aid to be fixed, lol).

Das Nest: My very first fluff & smut Lena/Johanna fic that didn't fall into the abyss of trauma and tragedy but instead escalated into a Love Actually rip-off by the end (and I still adore it for that).

Liens de cuir et mains de soie: A dom/sub/switching kinda character study/crossover between Lena Odenthal and Esther Baumann set mostly in France, inspired by the lovely but lowkey deranged idea by @disappointingsalad at the start and improved by her very own contribution at the end - thank you so much! :)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, because I love each and every one of them from the bottom of my heart!!! <3 (Also, the only reason that it takes long-ish for me to reply to some of them is that I cannot stop grinning and jumping up and down out of pure joy every single time I re-read them to reply properly, so, sorry not sorry, but you people make my day with those and I save them in an extra outlook folder because of that <3)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Since I'm usually rather fond of happy endings, I tend to resolve most of the tension. "Zerrissene Fäden" would be a possible candidate though. Maybe also "I've Come To Burn Your Kingdom Down" or "A Scarred Sunrise". Because of the uncertainty that still simmers through towards the end, but idk.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Well, since I'm a sucker for happy endings, they're all quite happy so far. But the happiest ... huh. Maybe "Das Nest". Or "Sonne, See und Sterne". Or "Liens de cuir et mains de soie". I can't decide on this either, apparently, oops :'D

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, no. But that's one of the few advantages of a small German fandom without great shipping wars, I suppose :'D

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Ha. Haha. Hahaha. Yes. Been there, done that, many kinds of that, in fact. Anything from the sweet vanilla kind (looking at all those 'found family' tropes) over the fast and messy ONS kind to the dom/sub-themed and/or throuple 'well that escalated quickly' kind. Each has its own perks. And its challenges (looking at the classic wlw problem of overusing "she" etc). But I still love delving into those headcanons on a regular (and mildly irresponsible) basis ;)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I wouldn't call it far-fetched since both fandoms are Tatort-related, but the sub/dom-themed Ludwigshafen/Saarbrücken crossover up on ao3 is definitely ... some kind of crazy. And then there are also all those Wien / Münster / Bremen ideas which haven't quite left the nest that @all-my-worlds-a-stage and I have so far built for them. Look forward to those ;) Also, in non-Tatort terms, there was this one Geralt/Loki fanfic I started years ago but I'm ... not even sure I'd find that cursed document again at present :'D

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'd know of it (niche fandoms strikes again).

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope (niche fandoms strikes again).

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, with @disappointingsalad. And I'm currently working on some other ideas that require more than my last two braincells, in this case with the help of @all-my-worlds-a-stage ;)

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Given my ao3 history, the case seems pretty clear - definitely Lena Odenthal/Johanna Stern. Honorable mentions go out to Sherlock/John, Geralt/Jaskier and Jamie/Brienne. And to Wilhelmine Klemm as well, because whoever she ends up with is so goddamn lucky to have her (and I'm here for each and everyone of them).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh God. Most of them, I suppose, given the lethal combination of adhd and perfectionism that rule my brain? :'D But the first thing that came to mind was the band AU I started a couple of months ago. Because the movie playing in my mind just at the thought of it is already so perfect and I don't have any idea how to get all of those scenes written down in exactly that way.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Probably dialogue? The amount of raw dialogue I've written as a kick-off for some vague idea is ... quite telling. In many ways.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Introspection. Whenever it comes to the thoughts of characters, my own mind is just ... blank. No idea what they could be feeling or thinking in this very moment, or rather, no idea how to phrase it without putting it into dialogue. Yeah, I know, just what a non-TV writer needs to work properly :'D

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Been there, done that, probably wouldn't do it again, at least not in the way I did it then.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Officially, House of Cards. Unofficially, probably Sherlock? Or the MCU? That was ... ages ago though.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

You CANNOT ask a mother which of her children she- well. Wait a minute. I think I'll throw "Von Schwertglanz und Schattengewächsen" in there, the medieval Tatort Ludwigshafen AU I started this February. Because this is such a long-ass project that has accompanied me through some pretty ... interesting months and I worked so many inspirations and easter eggs into it. And I'm continuing to do that now, in this very moment, because I watched a very gruesome Tatort Wien episode (thx for the rec @carlomainzinger ;_;) that had just the right amount of protective & soft found family vibes and raw & unfiltered force to thwart me back into this setting (not as hard as Bibi was thwarted around her own flat though, uargh). So, yeah, uh, look forward to that, the wait might be over soon ;)

Well. That was fun. Throwing this over to @carlomainzinger @mordsfesch @krejong @rheingoldweg12a @occhi-verdi-come-il-mare @disappointingsalad @karin-in-action @khalaris @cornchrunchie and literally anyone else who wants to join in, no pressure though!

[samrut]

"For You"

Hetalia

Reader x HWS Lithuania [Tolys]

Canon Divergence

[A fic determined by polls. I wrote this just for you guys - hence the title. It's not that great, but I hope someone out there likes it. lol]

Poll Results: HERE

While heading home from the grocery store, you find you have lost your way. It has begun to rain, but luckily, you remembered your umbrella. Unfortunately, smartphones do not exist at the moment, and you have not seen a living soul since you initially left the store. 

Just as you are ready to accept your fate of being lost forever, you spot a man sitting on a nearby bench. He stares off vacantly, wet from the rain, droplets of water drip from his dark auburn hair. Though he lacks all rizz, he is just your type. You summon up the courage to approach him, anxiously clutching your eco-friendly shopping bag.

You politely say, "Excuse me." There is an unexpected crack in your voice, leaving you puzzled. Surely, this sopping wet man could not possibly be the reason.

His once-lifeless emerald eyes light up with a sudden burst of energy, and he gives you a timid smile, looking pathetic as all hell. You can't help but stare. Something about him makes it seem as if time has halted, and you nearly forget your reason for greeting him.

You regain your composure and ask, "Do you know how to get to Main Street from here?"

"Yes, but it is a bit complicated," he replies, standing. "I can escort you."

"I do not want to trouble you."

"It is no trouble." 

He gestures for you to follow. Despite his average stature and pitiful appearance, the man has a commanding presence. You trail behind him, your stomach fluttering, as you watch his short ponytail gently sway back and forth, knotted at the nape. 

The brown tweed suit he wears looks dated. He appears much too young to be wearing such an old-fashioned style. It is only natural for you to assume he must have acquired it secondhand.

"Do you work around here?" You ask, trying to make small talk.

His gaze is drawn back to you. That weathered smile reappears, and he says, "the office building back there."

You look at him, perplexed. You had missed the building, if there was one. The wind picks up, and you tighten the grip on your umbrella. Suddenly, you are reminded of the rain and hurry along side the man to shelter him from it. 

He thanks you, waving back a strand of hair with a gracious smile.

You nod, your face flushing. "Do you mind if I ask your name?"

He lets out a short, melancholic laugh and answers, "My name is Tolys Laurinaitis."

When you respond with your name, he takes the umbrella to formally shake your hand. After the exchange, he insists on holding it for you. Hesitantly, you accept.

Following an awkward silence, you ask, "Why were you sitting in the rain?" 

"I guess that is a bit strange, isn't it?" He speaks quietly, keeping his eyes fixed forward.

"Yeah," you agree, expecting him to give an explanation, but he falls silent again.

He abruptly stops, and it dawns on you that you have arrived at your apartment. You do not recall sharing the address with him, but perhaps you did. The peculiar man offers the umbrella back, but you decline.

"Keep it," you tell him, "you shouldn't be out in the rain without one."

You say your farewells, and he leaves in the direction you had come. After stepping into your home, you turn around and discover, to your amazement, that no one is there. It was as if he had vanished, but you conclude that he must have slipped down an alleyway.

Later that day, you decide to search online for his unusual name. A strange wiki website appears as the top result. You scroll through a list of names, stumbling upon a brief biography containing several candid images of the man you had met.

You skim through the article, but there is a rerun of your favourite show on television that distracts you from pursuing it further. In the days that follow, you forget the encounter you had entirely, as if it had never happened. Life carries on for you as usual.

Cupboards bare, you grab your shopping bag and leave for the grocery store. The forecast calls for rain. Despite your best efforts, you could not locate your umbrella and ultimately decided to go without it.

After shopping, you lose your way walking home. It begins to rain. You are alone, wishing you had your umbrella. 

Just as you are about to accept your fate of being lost forever, you catch sight of a man sitting on a bench. He gazes into the distance, holding an umbrella much like the one you had misplaced. Though he lacks all rizz, you find him extremely attractive. Summoning up your courage, you approach this sad, pathetic-looking creature and are hit with a sudden wave of déjà vu. The reason eludes you.

You have never seen this strange man before, but oddly, he glances at you with emerald eyes that gain life at the sight of you. He smiles bleakly, and you cannot help but to stare. There is something about him that makes time seem to stand still.

He guides you home, sheltering you with his umbrella from the falling rain. Neither of you say much, but he does share with you his name. It is unusual, and out of mild curiosity, you look it up online later that evening.

His name automatically pops up in the search bar, as though you have already searched for it many times before, making you feel uneasy. A strange wiki website appears as the top result. Scrolling through a list of names titled "World Stars," you stumble upon a brief biography containing several candid images of the man you had met.

You skim through the article, but there is a rerun of your favourite show on television that distracts you from pursuing it further. In the days that follow, you forget the encounter you had entirely, as if it had never happened.

Life carries on for you as usual.

[twwpress]

Weekly Press Briefing #77

Welcome back to the Weekly Press Briefing, where we bring you highlights from The West Wing fandom each week, including new fics, ongoing challenges, and more! This briefing covers all things posted from December 10 - December 16. Did we miss something? Let us know; you can find our contact info at the bottom of this briefing! 

Challenges/Prompts:

There are no open challenges/prompts that we know of this week. Do you have a challenge or event you’d like us to promote or know of one we’re missing? Be sure to get in touch with us! Contact info is at the bottom of this briefing.

This Week in Canon:

Welcome back to This Week in Canon, where we revisit moments in The West Wing that occurred on these dates during the show’s run.

Season 1, Episode 10: In Excelsis Deo aired on December 15, 1999.

Season 3, Episode 9: Bartlet For America aired on December 12, 2001.

Season 4, Episode 11: Holy Night aired on December 11, 2002.

Season 6, Episode 9: Impact Winter aired on December 14, 2004.

Photos/Videos:

Here’s what was posted from December 10 - December 16:

Allison Janney posted a promo still from Palm Royale, which premieres March 20, 2024 on Apple TV. 

Josh Malina posted a photo and translation of an ad placed in a Yiddish-language paper by his great-grandfather in 1919. 

Josh Malina posted a photo of chicken fried rice that he made. 

Josh Malina posted a photo of himself with a racket and pickleballs. Josh Malina posted an image and lyrics from Candide.  

Peter James Smith posted a selfie with his hotel coffee.

Peter James Smith posted photos from his final full day in NYC.  

Peter James Smith posted photos of the sunset in NY and the sunrise in LA. 

Peter James Smith posted a 2023 year in review slide show. 

Rob Lowe posted a photo of himself surfing. 

Donna Moss Daily: December 10 | December 11 | December 12 | December 13 | December 14 | December 15 | December 16

Daily Josh Lyman: December 10 | December 11 | December 12 | December 13 | December 14 | December 15 | December 16

No Context BWhit: December 10 | December 11 | December 12 | December 13 | December 14 | December 15 | December 16

@twwarchive: December 11 | December 16

@JanneyUpdates: December 12

Edits/Artwork:

#joshdonna: safety net by @nacejisbon [VIDEO EDIT]

Editors’ Choice: 

This week brings us the anniversary of the first airing of Impact Winter. Here are some of our favorite fics based on that episode. Be sure to share yours that we didn’t include!

and what have you done by sam_writes_fics | Rated T | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete | It's the first Christmas Day without her in five years, and the silent vow made in a cold and empty apartment to fix this. To fix them. Even if he doesn’t know how. //’tis the season The Harsh Impact of Reality by GinnyK | Rated M | Abbey Bartlet/Jed Bartlet | Complete | Post Ep Impact Winter Two Weeks by Jennifer Wilson [archived by westwingfancentral_archivist] | Rated M | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete | This is set the day Donna quits and takes a hard turn away from canon after the words, 'I quit.' Thanks to the Watermelon Martini by LizaCameron | Rated T | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete | Post-ep for Impact Winter. Josh finds it within himself to be a "man" and goes after Donna. someone like you, a desperado like me by popmart (tambsi) for onekisstotakewithme | Rated G | Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn | Complete | things you said with too many miles between us

Look out for our reblog with this week's fics!