#i only wish to be free of my chains

[unknownersirius]

My husbandos change frequently.

It's like I have a husbando of the month.

Currently it's Cooler.

I would apologize but I don't think I'm very sorry.

[monamipencil]

when strawberries bloom (teaser)

“When the strawberries bloom, I'll be by your side.”

premise. mingyu is content with his life in the capitol as a victor, although he's haunted by the images of the nightmare he lived ten years ago. but all that comes to an abrupt stop, when he discovers that you—his greatest demise had been alive all this time.

content. hunger games! au, victor! mingyu, f! reader, pseudo major character death, hints of trauma, mingyu is a blink away from alcohol poisoning, capitol shenanigans, this is set in the period of second rebellion, slow burn, jealousy, both of them are in denial, fight scenes, friends to lovers (?) to strangers to rivals (it's one sided??) to ???, angst, fluff, crack, smut. heavy fruit metaphor, yearning, pining, happy ending.

warnings. will be added in the fic post.

word count. tba.

release date. around december end.

author’s note. this is a part of the ‘catching fire’ collab hosted by @vitaminkyeom. i'm very excited to write this and share with you guys. though i'm barely done with fic, i thought i'd put out as a teaser to fuel me to finish it. and pls feel free to come to my inbox and scream abt this fic <33 send an ask to be added to the taglist !

Mingyu controls a deep sigh as yet another woman presses herself against him in the name of dancing. He fakes his gaze, pretending to be enamoured. The strong perfume she’d used makes his head throb, and irritate his nostrils. 

The woman whispers sultrily, “I can’t believe I got you all to myself tonight.”

She flutters her eyelashes at him, her hands playing with the tie of his masquerade mask. It only covers the lower half of his face—a skillfully sculpted skull mask, lined with golden chains. He avoids looking at her, eyes darting all over the room to find something to fixate on. 

His lack of attention doesn’t seem to faze the woman as she only steps in closer. He bites his tongue and focuses on the details of the mansion. Gold painting lines the ivory walls that are basked in the dim lights of the party now. Grand, maroon curtains hangs by the arched windows, slightly swaying as the wind flows in. 

Awe turns into confusion which is replaced by disappointment when his eyes land on a glowing liquor fountain. But if he’s really honest, he’s a bit intrigued and his tongue feels dry, aching for the bitter taste of alcohol on it. 

Another shift of his eyes lands on a familiar lady, adorned in a black gown and dancing with an old man. He recognizes you as the lady from the balcony though your face is now obscured with a masquerade mask. Relief floods through his system, if he had to catch another glance at your face, his heart would stop beating once and for all. 

But as Mingyu had discovered long ago, things never really go the way he wishes them to. You turn your head, catching his gaze. Heat floods his cheeks and all the oxygen trickles out his lungs. He sucks in a sharp breath as you maintain eye contact. He doesn’t realise that he had stopped dancing till the woman whines. The sound prickles his skin, sending a shot of annoyance through him. 

All the voices around Mingyu drown out, turning into a mere buzz. A vine wraps around his heart, its thorns puncturing the gentle muscle. He watches as you shift your attention. Your beautiful lips curving into a smile, reacting to whatever the man had said. Your body leaning towards the old gamemaker, drawing attention to your cleavage. Rage courses through his veins along with another feeling. Jealousy. 

The feeling is foreign to him and he can’t even deduce why he’s jealous. Or, he knows why he’s jealous but even that mere idea seems incredulous. Still envy coils in his gut, rattling its tail at him and mocking him. Your eyes land on him again, and his heart skips a beat. 

Just then, the song switches, carrying a seductive note. Soon, the woman is whisked away and not even a second later, you end up in his arms. His hands skate down your silk gown to the small of your back and he pulls you flush against him. The proximity makes your breath hitch and you place your arm on his shoulders, swaying to the notes. Your breaths mingle together, body heat diffusing into one.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe you look too much like her, but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. With a sudden craving of intimacy, he holds you tight against him and the other intertwines with your left hand as you both sway to the flowing music. 

Any rational thought is chucked out his mind. The more he looks into your eyes, the more you look like her. In contrast to his prior wish, he wants your mask gone now. It obscures most of your face, cutting off near your right cheekbone to expose your right eye. 

He brushes stray hair aside. His soft, manicured nail beds caress the exposed skin off your face. You tighten your hold on him, doe eyes staring up at him with something he can’t pinpoint. His heartbeat quickens, a strange nostalgia permeates the air. Mingyu swears that this has happened before, a sense of deja vu fills his veins. 

Before he could comprehend his own actions, he undoes your mask. The sultry note tunes out into nothingness and the world seems to have stopped spinning. The mask hits the ground with a clank that gets muffled in the shock of the revelation. 

And there stands Kim Mingyu with his long lost lover and best friend who’s supposedly dead. 

You mirror his expression, horror staining your face as you shuffle to retrieve your mask. All while he stands still, going over the millions of possibilities. Why and how are you alive? Or is this a sick joke that someone is trying to play on him? 

You try to slip away from him, but he catches your hand, stopping you in your tracks. His grip tightens when you try to pull your hand away. His fingers brush over a bump on your skin, drawing attention to it. His eyes land on a scar that runs from the palm of your left hand to your wrist. 

Just then, you free yourself from his grip and escape into the bustling crowd of the party, leaving him alone. Though the mansion is filled with hundreds of citizens, an impermeable bubble seems to surround him—as if no one had witnessed what had occurred. It makes Mingyu question whether you’re real or if he made you up, like a mad man. 

send an ask to be added to the taglist !

[moonlight-records]

Hole in one | LH44 & LN4

pairing: LH44 x Reader x LN4

summary: your boyfriends want to go golfing on a rarely non-busy day but your mind has other ideas seeing how hot your boyfriends are. luckily, you're not the only one who thinks golfing isn't the only hole in one today--

warning: age gap between lewis & partners, semi-threesome, dom/sub dynamics, mention of eating out, mention of sex, mention of overstimulation, semi-free use(?), cockwarming, blowjob, semi-public exhibitionism (aka car sex), mmf threesome sorta???, edging, facial, mention of medication.

fc: none!

a/n: I KNOW THE TITLE IS CHEESY. DOES IT MAKE SENSE?? IDK AND IDC. It's late and i used my brain power for the smut--don't look at me

wc: 4.1K

God, you were certain you were going to go straight to hell. Poor boys just wanted a nice bonding day and you were imagining their hands helping you get out of this golfing outfit.

The thought crossed your mind glancing between the two Brits who were currently standing by the golf tee happily talking while you looked between the two trying to figure out which one you wanted to take first.

First, Lando was in those black golf shorts and that stupid black wife beater. You had so much to look at that you didn’t where you wanted to focus on first. Between the vein that pops out of his neck when he swings to his hands that gripped the gold club the way you wish he would grip your hair to his muscles just on full display along with a gorgeous tan that would look so much better with marks from you. Your eyes kept linger up to that curly mullet he had just gotten and you wet your lips because damn it. That mullet was just coaxing you to run your fingers through and grab and yank. Maybe you could get a hold of that chain and—

There was some laughter as a darker male nudged Lando with his shoulder. Lewis was the polar opposite of Lando.

While Lando looked like he had just rolled out of bed ten minutes before his ride came, Lewis was dressed like he was always on the golf course. A cream (you think it’s cream anyway) woven short sleeve polo and green golfing pants. The pants fit Lewis in a way that you could clearly see a little bit more than typically bargained before. You learned that the hard way by hole 3 when you realized Lewis did not have his hands in his pocket and now at hole 11, you were disrespectfully staring at any chance you got. When you couldn’t, you took to staring at all the different tattoos that you could see on his arms and watching his muscles. What you wouldn’t give for those damn tatted biceps putting your head in a headlock.

God, what do people call this duo?

Pairs??

You squint when the rare sunlight is suddenly in your eyes before a figure steps to the side slightly to give you shade. The gentle swipe of a thumb across your bottom lip snaps you back into reality.

“Something distracting you, love?”

Your face flushes almost immediately when Lando speaks to you. You avert your eyes while clearing your throat before letting out a soft noise of surprise when Lando lets his hand slip just underneath your jaw and forces your head up just an inch higher. You look back at him and blink because wow. The guys were right. You really did just need a few touches from either of them to turn into a mess.

“Sweetheart,” Lando murmurs while leaning down, “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

“Yeah..”

“You haven’t answered me. You know I don’t like repeating myself but you are just too cute like this so I’ll ask one more time. Is there something distracting you, love?”

“Oh!” You start, “Oh no—not really—” you ramble out and sit up a bit straighter when Lando sits next to you in the golf cart, resting an elbow on the steering wheel as his hand moves back to his chin, swiping his thumb on your lower lip, “just thinking about…things,” you murmur while nodding, more so trying to convince yourself then Lando, “that’s all.”

“What were you thinking about?” He smirks.

You squirm slightly under his gaze while glancing at Lando before letting your gaze drift around. Nobody else was around, which wasn’t a surprise considering you and your boyfriends decided to go golfing only an hour after the rain stopped even though the clouds still hung around, the sun was coming out. At least Lewis was kind enough to tip the workers very well as a thank you. Speaking of, your gaze lands on Lewis who is still by the golf tee, texting someone intensely which means Lewis is distracted.

Glancing back, you’re met with sea green eyes that meet your gaze. There’s a dark fire burning in them that you know screams lustful trouble. You knew better than to give into this temptation. You were in public for christ sake and the last thing you wanted was to get in trouble but you’ve been dying to get your hands on his mullet and it’s right here.

Trouble be damned, you slide closer to Lando, letting a hand make its way around his neck and you start to run your fingers carefully through his curly mullet. You gently scratch his neck as Lando rests his head on your shoulder. You gasp silently when warm lips brush against your neck teasingly. You bite your bottom lip harshly feeling Lando nip at your neck to stay quiet as you press your thighs together. You yank his hair slightly feeling his hand slide between your thighs.

“Lando,” You murmur as a warning trying to close your legs.

“Shhh,” Lando murmurs in your ear. You shiver hearing that stupid smirk in his words as a finger traces the waistband of your skirt on your skin shifting so one of his legs caught yours and forced your legs open for him. You whine softly as his hand starts to slip under the waistband.

You gasp when Lando’s head is yanked back and your eyes flick up to Lewis, standing behind Lando while holding his head back to look up at the older Brit. Lewis is looking down at Lando before his gaze finally makes it over to you and he raises a brow, “what do we have, here?” Lewis asks.

You stare at the older male then at Lando because you have two options. You can either go down with the ship or save yourself. Typically, you’d probably go down with Lando but you were still recovering from two nights ago when you and Lando decided to send Lewis some rather risky photos while he was at the factory. The memory of being being sat in Lewis lap having orgasm after orgasm from Lando, who was on his knee for that entire time eating you out and that was about a good…two hours before Lewis had showed you some mercy by letting you lay on the couch while Lewis had Lando bent over the coffee table an apologizing mess.

“I tried to warn him.” You admit to Lewis.

“Y/N!” Lando manages before he groans slightly when Lewis tugs his hair a bit more while Lewis leans over him, "Sorry,” Lando breaths out.

Lewis shakes his head while looking down at him, “you just love to cause trouble don’t you, you fucking brat,” Lewis smirks at Lando’s feigned innocent smile. He looks at you and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up. “Meanwhile, Y/N over here is being such a little angel for me.”

“She is not,” Lando breathes out, “She was enjoying it more than what she’s leading on.”

Lewis hums softly and thinks it over, “Well, I’m not too sure about that. I did interrupt before anything fun could happen, but.” Lewis leans down, “it seems that out of the two of you, you typically are the one that initiates trouble and y/n has such a pure heart to not let you get punished on your own. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You bit your bottom lip gently while nodding in agreement, “That’s right.”

“See? She’s so kind,” Lewis praises as he leans over to give you a peck, “unlike a certain brat.”

“Well, someone has to keep things lively,” Lando muses, “Besides I never hear either of you complain.”

“You’re right, we don’t complain,” Lewis starts, “we love it very much but sometimes, we just want an easy and I just want you to behave for me. Like today, it was supposed to be an easy day with golfing and cuddling but now I have to punish you for misbehaving.” Lewis shakes his head softly, “what am I going to do with you?” Lewis hums looking between the two of you and grins, “I know exactly what to do.”

It was a miracle that the golf cart made it back to its area in one piece. Even though it only went up to 20 miles per hour Lewis made it feel like it was going much faster with how determined he was to get the three of you off the course after telling Lewis your idea. Lando was growing more excitedly anxious while you sat between the two of them, curious to see what is suppose to happen.Lewis had given you the keys to the Mercedes, telling you and Lando to head over early as he wrapped up and you happily obliged with Lando giving Lewis a mock salute and following.

“Lando,” you start when you two are close to the car when Lando is pressing against your back, kissing his neck. Lando murmurs something into your skin as you tilt your head to give Lando better access as you unlock the car. You get the back door open before you yelp when Lando gives a sharp slap to your ass, whipping around, “Lando!”

“What?” He feigns innocence as he pulls you close by your hips. He lets his hands travel down to your ass to gently rub soothing circles where he slapped before grabbing your ass, “Am I supposed to just stare? Can’t touch it now?”

You giggle softly while wrapping your arms around his neck. You let Lando back you up to the car as you hum softly, “I suppose that wouldn’t be fair.”

Lando grins before leaning down and catching your lips in a kiss. You let a hand find its way back into the mullet as Lando tilts your head, deepening the kiss. You moan softly which gives Lando a chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He stumbles you backwards, breaking the kiss to help you into the back seat before climbing in after you. He shuts the door but something stops it and Lando whips his head around to see Lewis holding the door handle. “Oh,” he says breathlessly and laughs, “Lew. Jesus.”

“Sorry,” Lewis chuckles sheepishly, “didn’t have the heart to interrupt the show.”

You giggle softly while scooting over so Lewis could climb in. Once he was in, you comfortably sat back in your corner watching Lewis pull Lando into a searing kiss by the back of his neck. You fanned yourself watching because it should not be as hot as it was watching Lando just crumble under Lewis’ touch slowly but surely. When they finally pulled away to catch their breath, you didn’t even want to join in. You were much happier just sitting in your corner watching Lando turn into a mess as the curly hair driver was now straddling Lewis, kissing and nipping at his neck for more attention.

You lock eyes with Lewis and he just nods his head slightly. You immediately crawl over and Lando lets out a huff when Lewis shifts him to straddle one thigh while you straddle the other. You’re cupping Lewis’ face and kissing him stupid. You pull back before slinking off of Lewis thigh.

You and Lewis work together to get into position. Lewis manages to turn Lando before having him sit in Lewis' lap. While Lewis pulls Lando’s into another kiss, you move yourself to the floor. It’s a bit tighter than you anticipated but you made it work. You glance up, seeing Lando’s with his head back on Lewis shoulder gasping and whining. Lewis was murmuring in his ear while one hand was up Lando’s shirt playing with his nipples while the other was loosely messing with Lando’s belt. He glances down when you gently push Lewis’ hand away from Lando’s belt before undoing it.

You stick your tongue out as you fiddle with the belt while Lando squirms above. You huff before smacking his inner thigh gently causing him to yelp out of shock, “stop moving!” You tell him as you get the belt undone before undoing Lando’s shorts.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You ask.

“Could you do me a big favor?” Lewis asks, “could you go into the glove compartment and grab me the travel lube? Please?”

“Of course!” You take a hot minute to turn so your back is to your boyfriends and lean over the counsel and just get the glove compartment open. You shift to lean a bit more as you dig through, listening to the sound of kisses and soft gasps and whines. “Oh, was someone eager?” You hear Lewis behind you, “Was a good enough boy to at least your butt plug.” You put your lips together tightly as if you were eating a lemon to keep from laughing out loud as Lando just murmurs something before he groans out in pleasure before he tries to quiet himself.

“Found it!” You announce happily as you lean back offering the travel lube to Lewis. The second that it’s out of your hand you’re leaning forward to close the glove compartment while behind you Lewis and Lando shuffled around before Lando . When you turn around, Lando is now sitting in Lewis’ lap. He was panting slightly his back against Lewis chest, shorts and boxers now pulled down, face flushed.

“Ah, there we go,” Lewis purrs while hooking his chin on Lando’s shoulder. You watch Lewis’s hands moving down to stroke Lando’s cock, making you kneel right there as he does so, “You’re very pretty as a brat,” Lewis whispers but besides Lando’s gasps and whines, you can hear Lewis, “but you’re much prettier when you’re like this.” Lando manages out a breathless “Yes sir,” while gripping Lewis’ arm like a lifeline.

Lewis drags his teeth against Lando’s neck, finally biting a mark on his pretty skin (which you’re jealous of since you’ve been wanting to do that all day) but you’re getting more flustered while looking semi-embarrassed, turning as red as Ferrari’s suit and ducking your head. But Lewis is quick to snap his fingers and motions for you to rest his head against Lando's bare thigh while he works. You hesitate but do what is asked with Lewis praising you, "just keep looking here baby. Don't look away from how pretty Lando's being for you,” and Lewis goes back to working Lando up. "See? Look at how well behaved Y/N is? You see what happens when you behave? You get rewarded. We should probably do something to reward her...right?"

You watch Lando swallow a strangle cry probably because the three of you were in a mainly empty parking lot and currently doing—this. You see Lewis use his free hand to slip up Lando’s shirt to grab his chin, forcing the younger Brit to look at him, “Well? Do you think Y/N deserves a reward?” “I—mm yeah,” Lando manages out, “but I thought—”

“Oh trust me. I didn’t forget about you.” Lewis grins and kisses him, “you are going to sit here on my cock so pretty for me while Y/N enjoys her reward and let us just use you how we see fit, is that okay?” Grabbing his jaw a bit harsher, “and the only time you can cum is when I decide. Understood?”

Lando whines but nods. “I—yes sir,” Lando says softly while digging his nails a bit more into Lewis' skin, “I understand.” Lewis hisses feeling Lando digging into his arm. In return, Lewis leans down to nip at Lando’s neck, leaving another mark while rolling his hips up. Lando arches his back and moans loudly, squirming slightly. “Oh fuck—”

Lando completely ignores the reaction he pulls from the younger driver while using his free hand to brush your cheek. He shifts a little further forward and ushers you up. "Come on, you’ve earned a reward for being so good and not following this brat’s lead for trouble. Go on," He urges, nodding his head before you get the picture. You look up at Lewis and Lando before adjusting your kneeling position the best you can.Then you duck your head and wrap your lips around Lando’s cock, replacing Lewis’ hand. Immediately, you hollow your cheeks out when you start sucking the other off.

“Such good sweethearts, both of you,” Lewis says above directed at both of you. You can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks and neck as your lips stretch over the girth of Lando’s cock. It earns a strangled cry from Lando as Lewis speaks. "Fuck you two are just too pretty," he moans, rolling his hips up into Lando, earning another gasp and moan as Lando bucks his hips forward slightly. It causes you to choke on Lando briefly and when you pull back, there's a string of spit connecting your lips to Lando still. “Oh are you okay sweetheart?” Lewis purrs softly, “Lando isn’t being rude, right?”

“No, no he’s not being rude. Just, surprised was all,” you admit.

“Well, why don’t you take a bit of a break?”

You blink and nod slightly as you lean back, panting softly. You press your thighs together when you’re reminded just how strong these drivers are as you watch Lewis grab Lando’s hips hard enough to lease bruises before Lewis is practically using Lando as a toy. You watch Lewis manage to pick Lando up before slamming him down. Lando’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he grips onto Lewis, doing exactly what he was told. Sitting there, looking pretty, and letting you two use him however you two saw fit.

Really this shouldn't be turning you on as much as it is, but it is. Lewis is really hot when he gets all commanding like this, switching off from fucking Lando senseless to you sucking Lando off while Lando is being pampered and gets the praises he deserves and looks so sexy as he’s begging Lewis to show him any mercy and - you stick your tongue on the underside the younger drivers's cock, swallowing him down even more, some of your hair falling in your face when Lewis gently guides your head back dow. You know that your jaw is probably going to be sore tomorrow and you probably won’t be able to get in this car for a bit without getting flustered but you do not care right now when your boyfriends are being this hot right now.

"Look at her, Lan," Lewis breathes when he sees you giving into the job, "look at how much she's loving this,” you glance up seeing Lewis pampering Lando in kisses. Lando was breathing heavily, face and chest flushed. Hair stuck to his forehead from sweat while his cheeks were slick with both sweat and tears. His eyes are slightly red and glassy but he seems so gone in subspace. Lando almost sobs when you deep throat him, burying his face in Lewis neck as his hands fly to your hair to find purchase, holding onto your hair as you start bobbing your head again, randomly deep throating him to keep things interesting.

Pulling off, you pant while looking up, biting your bottom lip as you smile when Lewis strokes your cheek, “Oh, what a good little slut for you’re being - and only for us.” Lewis starts, “You think it’s time for Lando to have mercy?” You look your other boyfriend over and nod. “Okay. Well, how do you want him? Down your throat or all over your face? Tell me what you want."

Your brain short circuits because you swore that Lewis was going to make this decision, not you. This feels like a big decision and you aren’t really sure what to pick as you squirm in your spot, “I—um,” you start before Lewis is grabbing your hair and guiding you to look up at him a bit harshly, "Y/N," Lewis warns, "you have to use your words. Or we will stop and I will fuck Lando silly in the backseat and neither of you will get off. You understand me, don’t you? Tell me what you want."

You let your mouth fall open before closing your mouth and swallowing the lump in your throat. As much as you would love to see your boyfriends have sex, the idea of not getting off was the only thing that made the idea slightly unappealing. This was your reward so you found it a bit rude that you were now in the position where you couldn’t properly enjoy it. “I k—I understand sir,” you correct yourself swiftly, “I—” might as well go big since you’re already here giving a blowjob in a car, “I want Lando to come on my face, please.”

“Such a pretty slut,” Lewis whispers to you while gently pulling you up closer to him. You shift before he pulls you in into a kiss so searing that neither of you remember how long it lasts but he knows when it's done, he has both you and him gasping for air. “Whatever our princess wants is what she gets. He murmurs, “Now why don’t you sit back.” You nod quickly as you sit back. Lewis makes Lando look and he groans seeing the state you were in and you could only imagine how you looked. Lips swollen and red, cheeks flushed, eyes glossy. Lando tries to look away but Lewis catches his chin and forces him to look while his other hand replaces your lips and starts to stroke Land again. "Come on baby," he goads, moving them closer, angling them so his cock is pointed right at your face. "Give her what she wants. Paint his pretty whore face," he growls, the slick making an obscene noise. "Y/N, open your fucking mouth and stick our your tongue," he commands, voice rough. Your eyes widen for a second but you also follow that command, hands resting on Lando's knees and opening his mouth, waiting patiently. "See love?" Lewis whispers, pressing his lips to Lando's temple. "See how good she's being? Now be good for us and come over Y/N's face, yeah? Paint it for us."

Lando is so overstimulated between Y/N and Lewis that he can’t even remember his own name right now. He whines loudly when Lewis shifts slightly to kiss Y/N, feeling Lewis shift inside him and god if he didn’t get to finish soon, he was going to become the worst possible person for Lewis to handle. He groans loudly, melting into Lewis chest while jerking his hips into Lewis hand, eyes closed and head tipped back. He forces his head up to look at you and he lets out a strangled noise because oh fuck. You should not look this gorgeous right now with your tongue out and eyes on him. "Uh huh," Lando manages because it’s all he can muster.

There’s no warning. No heads up. Not even a single noise. Lando’s orgasm hits him hard and fast and unsuspectingly that Lando just lets his mouth fall open silently as he arches his back, legs shaking, and eyes rolling into the back of his head. Lewis is murmuring praises while running his free hand through Lando’s hair while you get a second to close your eyes because the last thing you want is seamen in the eye. You open your eyes when Lewis gently coaxes you to. Both Lando and Lewis moan softly seeing the absolute mess Lando made of your face. You blush slightly before you close your mouth and swallow whatever made it onto your tongue before sticking your tongue out again.

“Such a good princess for us,” Lewis praises, “did you enjoy your reward?”

“I did.”

“Did someone learn why they need to behave?” Lewis asks.

Lando hums while slumped against Lewis' chest, “yeah,” he murmurs, “I did. Not going to change anything.”

“We wouldn’t want it any other way,” you giggle and Lewis laughs.

“Okay baby,” Lewis rubs Lando’s back, “think you’d be good sitting for a bit while Y/N and I finish up?”

Lando groans softly and whines, “noooo,” he starts. “Just–five minutes?” Lando asks.

You sit next to Lewis and giggles softly while kissing Lando’s other temple, “sure baby. I can wait five minutes. I’m not in a rush. Babe?”

“I can manage waiting five minutes,” Lewis smiles as you and Lewis happily smother Lando into kisses. That is until Lando becomes a bit more coherent and stupidly says, 

“You know this is the first time I lasted more than 10 minutes off my meds…oh my god. It’s like–a hole in one–”

“BOOOOOO.”

“Lando, that was horrible–”

“GOD FORBID I SPEAK THE TRUTH–”

[thepigeonhasapen]

Finding Them When They're Trapped: Olympian Edition (NSFWish)

(I promise I'm working on requests but the horny bug bit ok)

🩷Aphrodite🩷

"Oh, darling, I'm afraid something simply tragic has happened. One of my suitors has taken advantage of me and left me like this!"

"...In your own bedchamber?"

Aphrodite waves a hand. As well as she's able to with the short chain connecting it to the bedpost anyway. "Sweetheart, it's sex. We don't need to apply logic to it."

"...I see." You sit next to Aphrodite, admiring the way the restraints draw her body into long, smooth curves. She wriggles in her chains, a deliberate enticement. An enticement too is the way she's looking at you, lashes fluttering and eyes locked sweetly upon your own.

"As I was saying..."

"Yes, yes, a horrible man left you tied to a bed and now I'm here to take advantage of that fact?"

"You do catch on quick, my dear."

⚔️Ares⚔️

Ares does not think this is funny. Unfortunately for Ares it is objectively pretty funny.

He glares at you from the bed, squirming against his chains. "Stop laughing and let me loose."

"I can't believe Aphrodite just left you like this!" You giggle. "I'm pretty sure she just straight up forgot you were here actually."

You can tell Ares is positively fuming about the whole thing. The headboard creaks as he yanks at the cuffs, but all the furniture upon Olympus is far too durable to break that easily. He glares at you once more and then sighs.

"Will you please set me free? I have something I wish to discuss with our dear Aphrodite."

Aphrodite has been so kind as to leave your favorite god naked, and you take advantage of this by resting your hand on his groin. You don't miss the sharp intake of breath when your skin touches his own.

"But it would be such a shame to let you go when I already have you here like this."

"I... be that as it may, I-" Ares's pupils blow wide with lust as you swing onto the bed to straddle his lap.

"Aphrodite isn't going anywhere. And-" You laugh. "Neither are you apparently."

"I suppose... my evening might still be salvageable after all."

🏹Artemis🏹

How embarrassing... to get caught in one of her own traps. Artemis is never going to live this down if anyone finds out about it. Too late for her, though, you've already found out about it.

"It's not funny! I just forgot where I set it, okay? Now let me down so we can both forget this ever happened."

Perhaps Artemis might be more intimidating if she wasn't blushing so fiercely. Oh yeah, and hanging upside-down by her ankle from a tree branch. That too.

"So if you're the prey, what's hunting you then? A deer? A bunny?"

You didn't think it was possible but Artemis blushes even harder. "Yeah, yeah, just get me down."

"Deal... but in exchange for not telling anyone about this, you'll owe me."

If looks could kill, not only would you be dead, you'd have been vaporized from existence. You start to walk away. "Or I guess you could just wait for somebody else to come by... Hermes, maybe?"

It doesn't take long for Artemis to break. "Okay, okay, deal! Now cut me loose before somebody sees."

As you're helping her down, Artemis shoots you another dirty look. "You’re just lucky I've got a soft spot for you."

🦉Athena🦉

One of the last places you expect to find Athena is stuck in a hole in the ground, but here you are. She looks up at you, visibly relieved to catch sight of you.

"Hail, Y/N. It would seem the Lady Artemis is leaving her pit traps strewn about the grounds. Again. I really must have a word with her about it. But first I require your assistance."

"Oh yeah? I hope you're not expecting me to carry you out of that hole." Look, Athena's like twice your size. You love her but it's just not gonna happen.

"No, nothing of the sort. If you could run to Hephaestus's workshop and fetch a ladder..."

You sit down at the edge of the hole, elbows resting on your knees. "I might do that. But to be honest, it's kinda hot seeing you be bested every once in a while."

"I was not bested. This was no battle of wills. This was my foolish half-sister being careless once again."

"Still... you being trapped is kinda doing it for me."

Athena sighs. "If you fetch me a ladder, I swear I will let you tie me up to your heart's content. Do we have an arrangement?"

"Done."

And you can't wait to take her up on that.

❄️Demeter❄️

"I'm going to kill that wretched foster brother of mine. We'll see if he can still throw his precious lightning bolts when he's encased in ice."

You've stumbled across Demeter cuffed to the railing of her balcony. You don't quite know what happened, but Zeus had something to do with it from the sounds of it.

"He told me I ought to get more sun! That it would be good for me! Put a smile on my face! Pah, as if there's anything to smile about upon this blasted mountain."

"Ahem," you say.

Demeter softens. "Ah... my apologies. Of course you give me cause to smile quite often."

"Would it make you smile if you said you looked cute in those cuffs?"

Demeter doesn't look in the slightest bit amused. "It most decidedly would not."

"Ah."

🍇Dionysus🍇

Dionysus had asked you to meet you in his vineyard but how strange, he doesn't seem to be here. Well, since you're here, you may as well look around. As you wander deeper through the plants, you hear rustling and the sounds of someone struggling.

He looks almost sheepish when you find him, half-buried in foliage with rogue vines twined around his limbs.

"Hey, so uh... there may have been a little... incident. Would you mind maybe lending a hand?"

"Don’t you have control over grapevines?"

"...These are special grapevines, yeah?"

And how kind of the vines to splay him out so beautifully. And to let him take off his cape first. And that all of his usual retinue is conveniently absent.

Dionysus shivers when you run a hand down his muscled chest. "And how exactly am I meant to help you if even a god as powerful as you can't set yourself free?" You stop just above where you're certain he wants you to touch him. "Shall I fetch someone to help?"

Dionysus whines when you remove your hand. "You’re such a damn tease, man! Just have your way with me already."

"I'm a tease? I'm not the one who's tied myself up in hopes of being ravaged."

"If you want we can switch places." Dionysus offers playfully.

"Hmm. Maybe later." You think you're gonna pass this up? Not a chance.

🪽Hermes🪽

You didn't expect to find the Messenger of the Gods tangled in a bunch of vines, but to be perfectly fair you're pretty sure he didn't intend for you to find him like that either.

"Oh, hi there, boss. I seem to have encountered a spot of trouble here but don't you worry, I'll be out in a jiffy."

He squirms, trying to free himself, but he's really just making the problem worse. Something he soon figures out when he sighs and looks helplessly at you.

"Don’t suppose you'd care to lend a hand?"

"Haha, oh alright," you manage through your giggles. "Hold on just a moment."

"Kinda can't do anything else," he points out.

You wade into the bushes, reaching for the vines that ensnare his wrist. Unfortunately, there's a bit more of them than you bargained for. One catches on your foot and you go tumbling forward, knocking both you and Hermes to the ground.

"Shit, sorry!"

But Hermes doesn't look as bothered as you thought he would. It's probably because your hand has landed squarely on his groin. You hadn't quite been sure if he was blushing before, but now he most certainly is.

He's not quite looking at you as he says, "You know it would really be a shame for you to let an opportunity like this go to waste, you know."

...He makes a valid point.

🔱Poseidon🔱

"Damn that blasted nephew of mine! I swear when I catch him, I'll- oh hello, dear! Would you mind helping your favorite sea god out of the predicament he's found himself in?"

You laugh. You can't help it; Poseidon looks absolutely ridiculous looking at you upside-down from the floor. Somehow he's ended up wrapped head to toe in chains, his arms pinned behind his back and his legs bound firmly together.

"What happened here?"

"That good for nothing nephew of mine, Hephaestus swore to me that he'd created chains so powerful that nothing could break them! I, of course, had to put such notions to rest. Nothing can overpower the might of the sea! Anyway, I uh..."

"So you let Hephaestus do this to you?"

You've never seen Poseidon look quite so flustered. "I, er... well, we don't need to linger on the past. Why don't you set me free and we can both go out to a nice dinner?"

"Not a chance, sea god." You drop to the floor beside him, greedily taking advantage of a sight you so rarely get to see. The might of Poseidon, bound. And looking quite handsome in his chains if you do say so yourself. "I think I've got a better idea than dinner."

It doesn't take Poseidon but a moment to catch your drift. "Ha! You best take advantage of the moment then because I don't imagine it'll be happening again."

Maybe. Or maybe Hephaestus will let you borrow these chains from time to time...

⚡️Zeus⚡️

It's funny... this situation that you've found Zeus in almost seems... familiar.

"Curses! Damnit... that blasted, darn Hephaestus... and my foul brother. I shall have both their heads for this, I swear..."

"Whatcha doin'?"

You've never seen the King of the Gods blush before. And certainly not so fiercely. "I um... well, I've run into a spot of bother. And it is entirely the fault of that wretched brother of mine. He insisted that these chains were unbreakable. Naturally, I had to show him the error of his ways. None can stand against the power of the heavens!"

Well, apparently being a cocky, arrogant idiot runs in the family. You drop to a crouch beside him, unable to keep the amused grin off your face. "And how's that working out for you?"

"Yes, yes," he huffs, "I can have a sense of humor like any other. You've all had your laugh. Now let me loose."

You reach down and squeeze between his legs, just enough that Zeus's eyes start to go hazy. He won't get mad at you for the imposition; he thinks far too much with his cock for that. "Oh, but I never get to top."

Zeus looks as if he's already having trouble formulating words. "Well... maybe just this once..."

Once? Not if you can help it.

[lomlhwa]

glory hole (v.c)

pairing: sex worker!reader x patron!vernon

preview: vernon's friends found a club that has secret glory holes. they know he's dying to get laid, so why not visit the glory holes?

tags/warnings: fem reader, reader is basically bent over a table and chained down, monster cock vernon, spanking, overstimulation, squirting, pet names (slut, whore, cumdump), degrading, reader calls vernon 'sir', unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampies

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.2k

song recs for this fic: gimmie more by britney spears

a/n: this one's a doozy

vernon anxiously nibbles on his fingernail as he waits for his friends to arrive. he’s standing outside a raunchy club, looking like a total creep. why did he agree to this? there’s no way he’s actually this desperate to get off. 

just as he’s about to walk away, his friends round the corner, laughing and carrying on. “yo vernon! you excited, buddy?” his friend, mingyu, asks. vernon shrugs. “i guess so.” mingyu throws his arm over vernon’s shoulder and guides him into the club.

they head straight for the back of the room, finding a small desk that looks like a reception desk. “hey, reservation for jeonghan?” his other friend walks up. reservations for glory holes is insane. “ah, welcome back sir. 4 of you today?” the receptionist asks and jeonghan nods. the receptionist smiles and types something into her computer.

“would any of you gentlemen like protection? we make sure our workers are all clean but if you’d like the extra precaution, let me know.” everyone shakes their heads so vernon follows suit. the woman smiles again. she hands all four of them waivers to sign. he reads it carefully before signing it and handing it back.

the receptionist rises from her chair and walks over to unlock the door beside the group of friends. “your rooms are numbers 5 through 8. remember, feel free to engage in any of your fantasies as long as you don’t seriously injure anyone. their chains are easy to rotate if you wanna change positions. enjoy your 2 hours with our lovely women.” with that, the door is shut. 

“alright boys, see you later,” mingyu shouts before running into a room and clicking it locked. all of the other disperse as well, leaving vernon alone. he wanders to the last one of their rooms available. room number 6. he can already hear the sounds of skin slapping coming from other rooms.

he opens the door hesitantly, finding you bent over, humming to yourself. when he clicks the door locked, you jump and stop humming. “welcome sir. feel free to use me as you please. i’m here for your pleasure,” you recite the standard welcome message to the new patron who has just walked in. you can only hope it’s not some gross middle aged man with a tiny cock again.

when you feel no contact for another 5 minutes, you get worried. “sorry, i don’t mean to not touch you, i got dragged here by my friends and i feel bad using you.” you can’t help but stifle a small giggle. a man feeling bad about using a glory hole? that’s a new one. “sir, this is my job. just fuck me already.” by now, you’re certain he’s an ugly, washed up man. 

finally, you hear his belt jingle and you know he’s sucking it up. you hear him take a deep breath before shoving into you. you gasp at the size, your walls stretching painfully around him. you grip your chains with such force that your knuckles turn white. 

“fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he mutters before beginning to move. he starts off slow, knowing that the stretch is painful. he grips your hips tightly, leaving finger indents in your soft skin. he snaps your hips against yours, driving his cock against your g-spot and prodding your cervix. it’s been so long since you actually enjoyed a patron, but this felt so good. you wished you could reach your arm back to hold his arm or something. 

“you’re such a good slut, aren’t you?” he says before landing a hard smack on your ass. clearly he has managed to get much more comfortable. you nod your head, agreeing with him. you can feel your release building up with every thrust. such a timid man fucking so well is unheard of. but you’re loving this. you grip your chains for dear life, gasping for air as your orgasm creeps up. “god, please sir i’m gonna cum,” you beg, barely fighting it off. 

“you can cum, but i’m not gonna stop fucking you. i’m not done yet. i’m gonna use your hole until i cum” vernon smacks your ass again and you fall over the edge. your legs shake violently. if it weren’t for the chains, you would be snapping your legs closed. he continues to jackhammer into your hole, pushing you past the edge and towards another orgasm. you notice that his thrusts are getting sloppy, signaling to you that he’s close. “please cum inside me, sir. i need it so bad,” you plead, your walls squeezing around him. he digs his nails into your sides as he cums, filling you to the brim. the sensation sends you into another orgasm, this time you squirt all over his legs and the floor.

“aw, the cumdump likes being filled so much that she couldn’t take it,” he snickers, running his fingers over your sensitive core. you shake and twitch at every small touch. “i’m gonna flip you over, i wanna see your pretty face.” he hooks his arms around your waist and rolls you over. being rolled over holds your arms down to your chest with the chains, still trapped. 

when you’re finally situated and you see his face, you’re astonished to see how beautiful this man is. you almost wish this wasn’t a business exchange, but you know better than to get attached to customers. “well aren’t you a pretty little thing. so pretty and such a whore,” he comments, stroking your face. he ducks down to situate your crossed legs around his waist. he reaches down between you to shove back into you.

“i have 15 minutes left, i’m gonna get another orgasm out of you.” 15 minutes? how has it already almost been 2 hours? he slides into you easier this time, your hole having yet to recover from his previous entry. your arms strain against your chains, wishing you could grab onto him to ground yourself. he pounds into you ruthlessly, his only focus being to drive you over the edge.

he reaches down to rub your clit and you throw your head back, your eyes crossing involuntarily. “oh my fucking god,” you croak, your voice getting caught in the back of your throat. you squeeze your legs around his waist, desperate for release. with 5 minutes left on the clock, you plead for your orgasm. “cum with me, slut. i’m gonna fill you up again,” he demands, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. 

as he feels you tighten for a final time, he leans down to kiss you. you hadn’t been kissed in so long so this surprised you. you kiss him back, cumming onto his cock as he simultaneously fills you up to the brim.

he pulls out of you and flips you back over into your original position just as his time strikes zero. “h-have a good day sir. feel f-free to return whenever you’d like,” you stutter the standard goodbye message. he slaps your ass one last time before pulling his pants back up and walking out. 

as the door closes behind him, he finds his friends coming out of their own rooms as well. “so? how was it?” jun asks him, patting him on the back. “so good, and she’s so hot,” he says, gesturing back to his room. 

“i will be coming back.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[feefivefoe]

The Damian bonding post I promised.

The first few times is him just standing at your door, asking to be let in. If this does not work, he will soon switch to already being in your home by the time you get back.

He's willing to start polite, but if you insist on being stubborn, he'll just pick the lock or climb in through the window

Shouldn't this kid be at school or something?

But reader is an expert at ignoring inconveniences in life, and just pretends he isn't there for a while. Disregarding any conversation attempts even when he's standing right in front of you and refusing to move. Lying face down on the couch, wishing it would swallow you whole so that you wouldn't have to go to work tomorro- DID THIS KID JUST SIT ON YOU.

It's kind of like having a cat for a while. You occasionally return home to find a small creature demanding your attention, but this one talks and expects answers. You actively avoid answering questions that actually tell him anything about your life. Sure, you know any Robin can just follow you, but if he's gonna find out, he at least has to put in the work.

Very quickly he gets tired of hanging around your apartment. This slum house is below the both of you. He starts trying to talk you into going back to the 'family home.' Barf.

You're still heavily guarded against him, and he recognizes that. He doesn't LIKE it, but he knows it.

So he essentially bribes you. Starts inviting you to more expensive restaurants than you could ever go to on your own. A sibling outing!

Of course you know there are strings attached. There always are in this cesspool of a city. But free food is free food, and in this economy? Who in their right mind would turn down a free meal.

At this point, reader still thinks the rest of the family doesn't even remember them, and Jason is dead. So to them, this is just Bruce's newest kid having a fleeting interest. They don't think it'll last, and they certainly don't see it progressing to them having contact with the rest of the family.

So sure, they'll entertain the kid for a few hours a few times a week in order to eat some rich people food using the Wayne family money.

Damian is happy with the arrangement. His sibling is out in public with him, something that doesn't go unnoticed by the general public. You've been out of the public eye long enough that nobody knows who you are. There are insidious rumors at first.

Any questions are answered with a planned out response.

"Stop harassing my sibling. Our father gave us money for dinner, so we're going to enjoy it."

Now Gotham knows that you're Bruce's kid. And people with too much time on their hands now connect the dots to the handful of news stories that came out when you first joined the family. The only time you really spent in the public eye.

You couldn't go back to being a recluse now if you wanted to.

If the food and occasional alcoholic beverage cause you to lower your guard enough to start talking about where you work, even if it's just naming a chain?

He certainly won't complain! He'll pass that along to Drake or something as grunt work. Get the place shut down or something so you'll stop being stubborn and come home already.

Having meals with just the two of you is nice and all, and he isn't eager to share with the rest of your family, but the comfort of home would surely be better than all the stares, right?

[da1ntiestdoll]

No conditions.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"The law is so easy that we naturally gravitate to conditioning it" - a phrase that i think about a lot.

What is conditioning? Conditioning is anything regarding reasoning your desires on how you can't get them.

Just any, maybe you look back into the past, maybe you had a past when even you tried and tried, even when you did all your best.. you still couldn't get what you wanted. And with that past, you might've tie yourself with it. Conditioning yourself that you can't use the law because of that past

Or maybe you worry about the future. Giving yourself a scare with "would it work?", "Is it gonna happen?", "Is this what's gonna happen?", "Am i gonna fail?", "What if x, y, z?" And so on.

Or it could be that you reason with logic. Like "Is this true?", "How does this work", "am i being delusional?", "Am i doing something wrong?" And so on..

Anything. Any conditions that you put to excuse yourself to stop being conscious about your wishes. It could be the past, the future, logic, the 3d, angel numbers like "oh i don't see 1111 does this mean I'm not gonna get my desires?", Rocks and crystals, not using a specific method, not affirming 1000x, not doing this, doing that, doing x, y, z and just going insane with all the conditions you could think abo

And of course, as the title suggests there's should be none of that. Don't make the law complex and hard, we've been using it for all our time existing here. You didn't condition the law when you used it to scare yourself. So why are you now starting to make it complex when you use it to benefit you?

The law teaches us that we ALREADY ARE who we want to be. It teaches us to BE present, and always live in it.

So conditioning yourself is just contradicting the law. It sounds insane if you really think about it. How can you condition yourself on how you can't get your wish when you ALREADY have it, you already ARE someone who has x, y, z. Someone who's ALREADY ARE the way you want to be?

So free yourself from the chains of conditions. Sure, It maybe "protected" us in some time of our life, but you don't need it anymore. So just get rid of it. Don't make the law hard.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

- by truly the only Daintiest doll👼💕🎀

[miltonthoughts]

Hiii I don't know if your request are open or not (if so feel free to say no to this reques.)

Can we have some Standford pines x wife/husband reader reader (whichever you feel comfortable with) getting possessed by bill during the weirdmagedon ?.

Hope this isn't too much.

A/N: Hi!! Wow this is my first request! And my asks/request are always open don’t worry! I was actually excited to write this, hope you like it!

-

Stanford stood his ground, refusing Bill's offers, threats, and demands for his knowledge. He knew better.

Left alone in Bill's throne room, Stanford heard the screams and chaos emanating outside Bill’s palace. He had lost track of time during his captivity, which made him feel antsy.

He only hoped his family was safe. Stanley, Mabel, Dipper, and his beloved partner, you.

He was worried about you, as the last time Ford saw you was when you were at the Mystery Shack doing chores, unaware that the apocalyptic Weirdmageddon was about to occur.

He closed his eyes and whispered to himself to wish you were safe and not in Bill’s sights.

“Ford..?”

Amidst his silent prayers, a familiar voice called out his name, causing Ford to open his eyes and lift his gaze from his restraints. To his disbelief, it was you! "Y/N?" he exclaimed in disbelief. You appeared battered and worn, but seeing you safe filled him with immense relief.

“Ford—! You’re alive..!” You beamed before rushing towards him and enveloping him in a tight hug. Ford reciprocated back, and the tensity from before lessened.

“Y/N..You’re okay..” He sighed softly as he held you tightly. You had his hands tightly before looking up at him.

“Oh, sixer…You're still as naive as you were 30 years ago..” Venom laced in your tone of voice, Ford froze. He quickly pushed you away from him as your pupils changed to a black slit while your white sclera turned yellow.

Bill.

No. No, No, No—!

“Bill—! Unhand them you fiend!” Ford roared in anger, Bill simply laughed in response. “Awe, come on Fordsy, I thought you liked the new look of your so-called..beloved,” Bill soon pulled a chain harshly that was connected to Ford’s neck, unbearably close to Bill's face.

Well, your face.

“They were so easy to manipulate, y'know? They thought I would surrender to them and give you back? Pathetic.” He taunted Ford while he tried to push Bill away from him, at least giving him some space but Bill wouldn’t budge.

“What’s the matter Sixer? I thought you liked Y/N being this close to you,” Bill purred. Relishing in Ford's distraught manner to see his wedded partner being possessed by him.

Now, Bill was confident that he had gained complete control over Ford and could easily manipulate him to his advantage.

-

Part II

This is what I could write off at the moment! Sorry if it’s short, I recently just got a fever and I been off from writing for a while :’)

[syddsatyrn]

heyyyy i didn’t know if requests were open so you can just ignore this if they aren’t-

can i get some alastor smut?:) just gen stuff

Redemption By Sydd Satyrn

⛧Pairing: - Alastor x Reader

⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, some dubcon, dom/sub, p in v, praise kink, toxic relationship, creampie, Alastor owns your soul, 18+ Minors DNI

⛧Words: 1k ⛧Notes: I gotchu! My request are open! Please read my rules before you send one!

This wasn't the first time you’ve been in this situation. You’ve been seeing the shadows follow you all day, they whispered about you, watching your every move. This means that Alastor wants you home as soon as possible. When you finally walk through the front door of the hotel, the other patrons are staring at you. The mass of black shadows creeping behind you was unsettling, even for them. You quickly made your way to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. You were used to it by now, having your every move observed. You just wished that instead of sending a hoard of shadows after you, he would get a cell phone and just text you.

As you exit the Elevator you walk down the red-carpeted hallway to Alastors radio tower. When you open the door you can feel his sinister presence take over the air. Alastor was typing out some notes for his next radio broadcast. He doesn't even look at you at first, keeping focus on his typewriter, the keys clacking as you stand there. Your heart raced, and your palms started to sweat.

“You’re late…” Alastor says, a tinge of anger in his voice.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up.”

“For two hours?! Do you take me for a fool?!” He raises his voice, and a glowing green collar attached to a chain appears around your neck out of thin air. Alastor holds the other end of the chain, pulling you closer to him. Only a few centimeters separate his lips from yours, his eyes are locked on yours, and you can't look away. “I’ve been in need of your assistance, and you leave me waiting? Tsk tsk.” He tuts and moves a few stray hairs away from your face.

“I-I’m s-sorry…” You choke out, he softly caresses your face with a wicked smile.

"You think you can beg your way out of this? My dear, you underestimate me.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise…” You plea, but this kind of behavior never works on Alastor.

“Promises are easy to make, my dear. Why don’t we see if you can deliver on yours?" Alastor says with a depraved look in his eyes.

His lips met yours in a fervent collision, igniting a blaze of desire that consumed you. He kept the chain wrapped around one hand as the other roamed your body, hungry for more. Every touch, every caress fuels something in you, Alastor is the only one who can bring out this primal side of you that you hide so well.

You immediately give in and start to unbutton his shirt while he takes over your mouth. His tongue dances with yours as he groans into the kiss. He breaks away, grabs the collar around your neck, and drags you to his desk. Alastor bends you over rather forcefully and you yelp as your torso hits the desk.

Alastor growls as he presses his clothed cock against your ass. “Are you ready for your redemption, darling?” He says followed by a low growl. Your breath hitched and you nod, Alastor has a menacing look on his face. He quickly pulls your skirt down along with your panties to reveal your wet cunt.

“My, my…you’re already prepared.” He says while digging his claws into your hips.

Alastor unbuckles his pants, pulling them down a bit to free his cock. You feel the tip of his length tease your wet hole before slowly pushing his way inside. You whimper and squirm a bit, trying to adjust to his size.

Alastor begins to thrust in and out with force, he lets out a low growl. You cry out in pleasure as Alastor pounds your soaking wet cunt, the desk slams into the wall causing you to yelp. Alastor pulls the chain connected to your collar, making you arch your back further, causing him to reach even deeper. You begin to tear up a bit as you let out a mix of whimpers and moans. Alastor leans in closer to your ear and begins to whisper.

"That's my good girl." He whispers, it sends shivers up your spine. The line between pleasure and pain is really thin when you and Alastor get intimate. You enjoy it but you also hate it, a mix of emotions that you can't seem to sort out. Alastor is relentless, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten as he fucks you deeper and deeper. You are starting to see stars as you get closer and closer, Alastor's claws drag down your back leaving bright red marks. You wince and grip the edge of the desk like your life depends on it. Alastor's eyes roll to the back of his head as he moans, thrusting his cock into you as deep as possible as he cums, you soon follow as you release onto his throbbing cock. You moan something that sounds like his name, your body begins to tremble as you find that sweet release. These are the moments that make you wonder if this is really a punishment at all.

The chain around your neck disappears and Alastor removes himself from your cunt. You slowly push yourself up, your legs shaking, and turn around to see him buckling his belt and fixing his tie. You locate your clothes and attempt to put them back on despite how wobbly you are. "Are you satisfied?" You ask a tinge of attitude in your voice. "For now." He says with a sinister grin. He's been waiting around for her all morning, he was starting to get impatient and needy before you showed up. Alastor is always a mystery, a danger that lurks in the shadows. The deal you made with him isn't always convenient, but it was better than the previous outcome. He motions for you to come to him, and you obey. He holds your face in his hands and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. Your face turns a shade of pink, surprised by his actions.

He whispers softly in your ear. “Until next time, my darling~”

[nautls11]

ok but hear me out: riptide x slay the princess (big ol yap sesh and closeups below)

Chip: The Spectre

109, obviously, but also the spectre’s yearning for what once was, wanting back her “freedom” of the life she had before. The parallels between the spectre’s longing and Chip’s longing for his life with the Black Rose Pirates work so well together. Another factor is how Chip needed to learn that he was not alone anymore. He had a crew, friends, captains, siblings. Through his ups and downs, he learned respect, trust, honor, and responsibility; he learned to love again with a fiery passion he had not felt since he sailed alongside Arlin.

“I offer you absolution, and you take my hand in yours.

You felt the pain you caused another, and you were willing to sacrifice everything you thought was you to set me free.

Without sin, there is no redemption.”

“This one is vaporous. She is a dream of a life she could never have, but that longing has given her so much capacity for Kindness. She will make for a yearning heart.

Do not mourn her — she will finally be able to hold What she never knew.”

Jay: The Cage

I was heavily debating between Jay and Gill for this one, but the Cage’s final confrontation is what sold Jay for me. Her constant fear of abandoning her blood family because she has already lost so much (her sister, and soon her mother), that abandoning the last shred of family she has left would be losing everything. It is her inaction which drives much of her conflict, balancing the line between Ferin and pirate, because no matter which side she turns to, she is always afraid, because she always has something to lose. There are times where she feels like she can only watch from afar and see what will happen (especially in the case of lizzie’s war), but she must understand that inaction is most often a deficit. She has proven herself time and time again to others, she just needs to prove it to herself.

“Fear is a chain around the neck and a needle in the eye.

It was fear that made our prison, and it was fear that told the lie that

our spirits were not free to choose.

But together we left it all behind, and found a world free of burdens.

We found the beauty in accepting our dance.

This construct is a machine of fear. It has no place in our divine hearts.

Shatter it. Leave with me.”

“This one is a body that convinced herself she was only a set of eyes. She will make for a watchful heart.

Do not mourn her. She is now what she wished that she could be.”

Gill: The Drowned Grey

Unlike the others, I couldn’t really find a princess that fit gill as well as the others did, so I decided to do a more specific moment of gill’s story for his princess: his oath of vengeance and dunjon arc.

The Drowned Grey is a story of hurt, loss, and rebirth. Gill loses everything; his friends, his closest companion, and is taken away from the life he once knew to be trapped in an endless white void, to be judged by the apparitions of those who had always judged him before. He is raw, violent emotion, rage being the only way he knows to understand his pain, and thus inflicts it onto others. His actions endangered those who wanted to help him be because all he could process was his loss. And that loss he screamed at the elder’s with his entire soul, only to be swept away in the dark depths of Niklaus’ control. But after the anger, was his rebirth. He was never meant to remain in an endless void for eternity, and Born anew in the eye of a leviathan’s storm, the violence and grief was left behind him in the cold icy storm. He had his catharsis, leaving those demons behind him in the darkest depths.

“I kill you. You kill me. Back and forth we go, faster and faster and faster. I kill you. You kill me.

Hollow eyes watch from the dark corners of a forgotten place flooded by emotions left unspoken. The tide rises.

I kill you and me.

An ending is a passion that can only be expressed with a moment in time. It is a seed for a new beginning. To linger on an ending is to rob it of its life.

And without me, all that's left to do is linger.”

“This one is guarded sorrow. She saw herself as alone but in the end had courage to share with another. She will make for a deep heart.

Do not mourn her - she has finally been heard.”

anyways uhh thanks for coming to my tedtalk, i lowkey wanna do this for other campaigns, currently thinking about prime defenders and the suckening so ye 👍👍

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . INTERRUPTED ; — you find your alone time with multiple tokyo revengers characters being interrupted.

FEATURING: sano shinichiro, hanma shuji, haitani rindou, sano manjiro + sanzu haruchiyo.

warnings: f!reader, exhibitonism, bonten!timeline, shin owns his bike shop, phone calls / being walked in on, cock-warming, sort of possessive behaviour in sanzu’s, ch-oking. note: hewo :3 i am v happy w how these turned out i think so i hope u guys enjoy hehehe <3

✩ ˛˚ . SANO SHINICHIRO

shinichiro could never fucking say no to you, you just had to give him one of your pretty little looks from underneath your lashes and he was like fucking putty in your hands.

it’s like you knew exactly how to get to him, made just to tease and test his own self control and fuck—turns out he hasn’t got any at all, because now your usual little afternoon visit to see him at work has ended up with his hips pressing flush and tight against your own as he sinks his cock into the warm hug of your pussy.

it wasn’t normally something that bothered shinichiro, but when it’s only 2pm on a friday afternoon and he’s just heard the bell on the front door of his bike shop ring to alert him of another customer. he’s pretty sure they might find a problem with the fact he can’t deal with them because he’s balls deep in you in the back shop.

you feel the deep press of your boyfriends cock against the sweet spots inside of you when his next thrust stutters, followed by another languid withdrawal of his hips before he’s rolling them back into you at an even slower pace. but he swears he feels you squeeze even tighter when the sudden ring of the bell at the front desk rips you both from your blissful, hormone-drunken state.

“just a sec..” shinichiro calls as his fingers squeeze almost painfully at your hips and he’s pulling back to give you a lidded look from under the messy mop of black hair framing his flushed features. you shudder when you feel the cool metal of his chain leave your too hot skin but he still doesn’t pull himself away when your hands tighten in the fabric of his shirt. “f-fuck, angel, gotta let me go.. quit squeezin’ so tight.

“but shin, ‘m so close.” you babble through your pouty lips and even the fucking sound only seems to lure him closer as he offers you another stuttered thrust and he grits his teeth. another ring of the bell accompanied by another sinful squeeze of your walls around him and shit— he wished he’d just closed up for the day. god he is fucking whipped.

“mmm—fine, angel. shit— jus’ gotta make it quick, alright? make it up to ya later.”

✩ ˛˚ . HANMA SHUJI

your trip to hanma’s office had started somewhat innocent, it was always down to him when you ended up spread out on his desk atleast — not that you can be blamed when he’s so infuriatingly handsome, amber lidded gaze never once leaving yours as soon as you enter.

it’s the same look that he’s giving you now as you sit spread out for him across the paper work that he couldn’t give two shits about right now. he’s still dressed apart from his unbuttoned slacks — just enough to free the heavy strain of his cock but still a stark contrast to the way he’s stripped you of everything — offered you up to himself like a luxury meal he’s about to devour, and you almost shudder with how exposed you feel before you melt at his touch again.

“you miss my cock that much, babydoll?” hanma goads, smirks as one of his large palms, sin squeezes at the flesh of your thigh so he can push you wider. you can barely offer him words with the way your desire weighs heavy on your lungs, a weak little nod that only makes his grin twitch even wider as he wraps your thighs around his hips.

“such a helpless little thing, can’t cum without me doing all the work.” it was almost uncharacteristic for him to give into you so easily, he liked you begging — crying for him to finally fuck you but any suspicions soon melt when the fat head of his cock finds the entrance to your flexing pussy.

you gasp and hanma growls as he sinks carefully up inside you, punishment taking its usual place around your throat as he squeezes lightly at the sides — he always said it was your prettiest fuckin’ necklace afterall. his other hand on your hip pulls your hips closer to his as your back arches and his cock feels like it sinks into you forever. he was long and thick, curved upwards and warm and it glides so sweetly past the spots inside of you that make your whole body twitch against the wood, your pussy tightening harder around him the deeper he goes.

but just as you find yourself floating into a blissful state, almost consumed completely by him — you jolt when there’s a sudden, sharp knock on his office door and his fingers around your throat squeeze a little tighter before he chuckles.

your wide-eyed as you look at hanma but he doesn’t stop, he looks amused and there’s something dark, wild in the same familiar amber that looks over you when the next knock is accompanied by him forcing your walls to spread open wider for him. “s-shuji.” you try, a small plea for him to tell him he’s busy — to do something, anything.

but then you only feel him press into you deeper, looking at you from over the frames of his glasses before he’s urging your head to tilt back — palm pressing tight against the middle of your throat as he drags you along his cock with the other.

“came here to cum didn’t you? better tell ‘em.. or. else.”

✩ ˛˚ . HAITANI RINDOU

rindou is fucking late, he knows as he gives the watch underneath the expensive fabric of his suit a lazy, lidded look from underneath his lashes. it’s not that he was stuck in traffic or anything, hes at the venue for the executive meeting atleast — hes just far too fucking obsessed with the way you’re bouncing on his cock as he sits in the front seat of his fucking car to actually leave.

ran’s definitely going to kick his ass, he thinks before it’s replaced by the next particularly sharp connection of your hips — warm hug of your pussy reducing him to low grunts and growls as every thought in his head is consumed by only you instead.

“fuck sake, i gotta go princess. but shit, got the sweetest lil fuckin’ pussy.” rindou hisses through gritted teeth as he lets his head fall back against the headrest — his violet gaze heavy underneath his mused bangs as it focuses on the way your pretty tits jiggle everytime you sink back down onto his heavy cock. he’s gotta go, but why can’t he bring himself to fucking move.

“so close rin!” you whimper through pouty lips, your mind cloudy with how well hes fucking you and it does wonders at drowning out the way his phone is vibrating in the passenger seat — his hands preoccupied with dragging you along the length of him instead.

“yeah? lemme see how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum ‘round my cock, gorgeous.” the ragged tone of rindou’s words feels like it drips through you as the muscles in his well trained body shake beneath you. his pace is unrelenting as he begins to meet each of your thrusts with heavier ones of his own, fingers squeezing tight into your hips so he can push his cock even deeper into you with every wet connection.

“you been thinkin’ ‘bout my cock, princess? already made me fuckin’ late, gotta make it up to me.” rindou groans and your walls reward the thick spread of his cock with another needy twitch. your pussy squelches, wet and messy as the sounds echo around the walls of the car and fuck— he wants to ruin you. but his next harsh thrust stutters when there’s a sudden knock against the drivers seat window that makes his head twist quickly, because despite the dark tint and the condensation from you both — he knows who it fucking is.

“oh little brother? hm, don’t make me drag you in here.”

✩ ˛˚ . SANO MANJIRO

you think it’s warm, comfortable when you’re curled up in mikey’s lap — a place that had become one of your favourite despite how many people feared him. but he was different with you, softer as his slender fingers trace up the length of your spine — making you shudder as his cock rests inside the intoxicating hug of your walls.

it was a nice sort of routine, like a little ritual than always seemed to keep him grounded and it was some of his favourite moments with you — sacred moments with you. you pull back to give him a pretty, drowsy sort of look and you almost melt completely when it earns you a relaxed sort of expression in return followed by a small smile. “manjiro.” you begin and he swears the use of his full name from between your lips makes him shudder as something warm licks at the base of his spine.

“hm?” it’s low the hum that mikey offers you but you only sigh contently before you’re urging yourself closer, letting yourself bask in his hold as his arm around you proceeds to tighten as his lips rest against your temple. “it feels good, you’re warm.” he drawls and the whispered affirmation makes your insides ache before the next squeeze of your walls is pulling a shuddered breath from the man beneath you.

but just as you get comfortable in the blissful atmosphere in the room, it’s interrupted suddenly by the harsh wrap of knuckles against his office door before a particularly scared looking gang member scurries in after. he opens his mouth to speak but the cold look your boyfriend gives him seems to make the words die in his throat before he cuts him off completely.

“i’m busy.” mikey’s tone is blunt, ragged and a stark contrast to the softer one that he seems to reserve only for you as his fingers continue their ministrations along your skin. but you find yourself tensing when his words aren’t followed by the sudden unwanted company leaving, something that your boyfriend picks up on when instead they proceed to try again as they stutter out something unintelligible.

“didn’t you hear me?” there’s authority in the sharpness of his tone this time and it leaves no room for argument — only an apology as the gang member bows before leaving, probably mentally preparing himself for the visit he’ll be receiving from sanzu later no doubt. but you find yourself relaxing into manjiro’s embrace again as soon as you’re both alone again, hearing him sigh before it’s followed by a sudden, deep kiss of his cock as he shifts beneath you.

“so annoying. i’m comfy.”

✩ ˛˚ . SANZU HARUCHIYO

“haru..” you gasp from where sanzu has you hips pressed tight against his desk — swiping his fingers softly through your folds as he drags the pad beneath the hood of your clit, rolling the sensitive bud until he can see the way your thighs twitch. it was insane, the way he’s toying with you — playing with your pretty cunt like you’ve got him fucking hypnotised.

“i know, angel. just real pretty.” he hums before he’s deliberately pressing down onto your puffy clit harder, eagerly, until you’re wet enough for him to push two fingers inside. he rewards you with a sweet little kiss against the puffy bud when he’s not met with much resistance, grinning at the even sweeter little whine it pulls from your pouty lips.

“such pretty sounds, perfect fucking pussy.” sanzu’s fingers are long, long and thick enough for you to hiss at the stretch but you feel something blissful flutter in your tummy with the soft affirmation from his scarred lips. it was intoxicating to see a man so dangerous turn to fucking putty when he was between your legs and gazing up at you from under long lashes.

his warm breath rolls over your slick folds as he pants, his crystalline eyes transfixed and shining on where his digits sink into you, until his head lowers and his tongue is curling against your clit before he’s dragging it back up — complimenting every twist of his wrist with kitten licks like you’re the sweetest thing hes ever fucking tasted. it was rare for you both to get some alone time, he was a busy man afterall being bonten’s number two and you forget just how fucking good he makes you feel — making your toes curl from where they rest over his shoulders so easily.

but just as you let yourself melt back onto the heavy wood behind you, fingers smoothing through the bubblegum roots of sanzu’s hair before you pull — you’re jolted from your blissful state by the sharp ring of his phone in his pants. you hear him click his tongue before he’s spitting out a curse, but he continues to sink his fingers into you as he struggles with the device, swiping at the screen as he swirls tantalising circles into your clit with his thumb.

“what the fuck is it?” he spits and fuck— you swear the sudden boom of his voice makes you even wetter as your walls squeeze tight around his fingers, making his scarred lips twitch into a wild grin as he hums. you can tell he’s barely listening to the caller, not important enough for his attention so you know it’s not mikey, but his attention remains on you despite the way he addresses them. “fuckin’ do something about it then, im busy.”

you’re so fucking wound up, moans muffled behind your lips despite the way sanzu’s so desperately trying to drag them out of you before he’s resting the phone face up on the desk beside you. you’d assume he was done, but you can still hear the faint voice on the other end and the hooded look he gives you is dark before he’s suddenly burying his face into you, drinking up everything you offer to him despite the way his sharp gaze cuts up into you as he grumbles out a warning.

“keep that pretty mouth quiet, angel. those sounds are for my ears only, wouldnt want to have to kill that sorry bastard for hearing what’s mine.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. do not copy any of my layouts / writing + translate / repost onto any other sites.

[heechwe]

one more night | 𝐦𝐣𝐡

୨୧ pairing: myung jaehyun x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 2.1k ୨୧ genre: smut ୨୧ tags: forbidden romance, friends(?) with benefits, ceo!jaehyun, ceo!reader, spanking, degradation, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie. ୨୧ synopsis: You tell yourself it will be the last time you commisserate with the enemy every time you leave him. But, like magnets, you always come back to each other in spite of every instinct telling you to walk away. ➸ Request from spider anon via this ask! I hope you love it like I do! Shoutout also to my friends @lovetaroandtaemin and @loserlvrss for beta-reading and dealing with my ass writing this story ilysm 🤍

Any excuse to run across Jaehyun reminds you why you’re such a good liar. Both in life and in business, it’s a good skill to have in order to hold a lot of things together. Jaehyun isn't one to conceal much of anything, though. Maybe that’s why you both can’t stand each other sixty percent of the time, your rigidness the perfect clash with his care-free nature. The guy holds a title you worked for forever while he seemed to earn it with the flick of his wrist. 

Your families didn’t share fuzzy feelings either. Your parents and his on paper seemed to be a match made in heaven, your hotel monopoly the counterpart to a chain of popular restaurants in the city. But it was anything but, unfortunately. The lack of similar business interests and practices as well as their disproportionate dispositions made it a pain to get together every time there was a dinner party or business convention with both of your companies on the ticket.

Like tonight, the expo for the new release of stocks for many companies is another standoff between your respective parties. You have to hold yourself back from sharing any words of encouragement or conversation that paints Jaehyun and his company in a good light without being rude. In truth, you could care less about the hotels right now, flitting your gaze to the ballroom doors to see the one person who drives you insane.

You refuse to admit the red dress you’re wearing is meant to show off your neckline just for him. You did not put on an extra spritz of perfume that he likes to make his head spin. You don’t wish the executives you’re talking with right now would walk away so you could find the man himself.

Of course he saunters in the room when he lingers on your mind, walking past the many gray suits without much care for his late entrance. His three-piece suit exaggerates the lines of his body in a way that irritates you and turns you on in the same breath. He shakes the hands of the stakeholders with a shit-eating grin and glides near you with a hand on the small of your back, determined to shake your resolve without saying a word.

It’s his nature to get under your skin with something as simple as the light graze of his fingertips. He loves to see you flustered until you’re begging and pleading, the actions completely against your normal character. You’ll never bow down to any man or woman in the world to get what you want, but for Jaehyun, he seems to be the only exception to the rule.

Of course, you’ll never admit that, playing it off as simple carnal desire and nothing more. You deny the heat pressing into your body the longer his hand lingers on the back of your dress, his thumb and forefinger playing with the zipper.

He says your name as he toys with your emotions further, the rest of the company around you going back to their casual conversations about trips abroad and business deals. “We need to discuss the merger. We can excuse ourselves for fifteen minutes, don’t you think?”

Sanctimonious prick.

He can barely hold himself together by the time you make it off the elevator together and walk in the direction of the room. He strings you up against the hallway wall, his hand immediately hiking up your skirt and his lips clinging to your neck.

“You love this. You love messing with my head,” he grunts, taking your underwear in his fingers and dragging them down your legs. He could give a shit less if anyone were to leave their room to find the scene playing out in front of them. In his mind, three days has been torture. Any more and he would’ve exploded.

He has to make it known how much pain he has been in, and he has every intention of returning his torment with the same vigor.

“Hyunie,” you whisper, the words about to leave your mouth as hollow as his preservation for your dignity. “Not here.”

“You don’t care,” he responds. The pad of his thumb easily finds your clit under your dress, rubbing circles into the center of your legs without stumbling on his words. “Everyone downstairs could see me fucking you and all that would matter to you is if you got off. And you know it.”

You moan into his mouth when he licks the roof of yours with his tongue. His fingers still dance in the pool at your center, your underwear clenched in his other hand pressed against the wall.

“Please fuck me, Jaehyun,” you beg, tugging on his pants as he continues with his thumb and forefinger bordering the walls of your cunt. The strain of his cock in the fabric is obvious, the outline of it making your mouth water.

He smirks, holding his bottom lip between his teeth. “Not before I feel that beautiful mouth on me, baby.”

By the time Jaehyun slides the keycard against the door mechanism and lets you both inside, you have him pressed to the other side of the door in record time. It takes only another second for the underside of your tongue to meet the tip of his cock. He barely had time to pull his pants down before you were taking him in your mouth, but he loves to see you like this, lust-drunk and impatient.

Just because you’re a good liar doesn’t mean you’re good at practicing delayed gratification.

Sure, you may not like him a good portion of the time. But now, with his hand violently wrapped in your hair, ruining the curls you spent an hour working on so he can fuck your face, you think you may die if you don’t feel him inside of you soon.

You gag around him when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Tears pool in your eyes, but the sound of his moans and the way he slides between your lips is indescribable.

“Fuck, this mouth was made for me, you know that?” He groans, lovingly holding your cheek with the palm that isn’t wrapped in your hair. “My perfect little whore.”

You hum and continue letting him abuse your throat. His body trembles at the endorphins rushing through it, and he hasn’t even come yet.

Jaehyun pulls his cock out of your mouth abruptly, making you whine in confusion. He pulls you up by the hands, a knowing smile plastered across his face. Your knees burn from the friction against the carpet, but the force of his kiss makes you forget any feeling that isn’t pleasurable. The rest doesn’t seem to matter much at the moment; only him and his effects on your being take precedence in your mind.

“Y’know I love coming in your mouth, but I want your pussy more.” He takes you to the bed and motions for you to get on all fours once your dress and high heels are discarded in a corner of the room.

He lands a hard smack against your ass, rubbing the skin as you whimper into the pillows underneath you. “You’re such a bad girl. Acting like you don’t want me, yet you’re hungry to have my cock filling you up every time you see me.” He takes his other hand to press his fingers inside of you. “My little brat, too proud to admit she loves being my little fucktoy, huh?”

You shake your head and stuff your face further into the pillow. You arch your back only for Jaehyun to spank you a second, third, and fourth time. He doesn’t take his fingers out of your heat even as he hits you, but each bout of contact with your ass and his palm is harder than the last.

“Don’t lie to me, baby. You know I hate it when you do that.” A fifth smack meets your ass, and you almost press your whole body flat onto the bed, the pain and pleasure too much to absorb at once.

“I love it, Jaehyun, I do. I love being yours,” you gasp, legs shaking. Your body stretches the coil inside of you tighter, unsure when will be the exact moment you fall apart.

Jaehyun doesn’t make you wonder for too long. “Prove it. Come on my fingers, baby. Let go.”

He presses a kiss to your reddened skin as you come undone, the orgasm ripping through your energy without mercy. Your legs are limp and unable to hold you up any longer when you come back to reality.

That doesn’t mean the devilish man who’s caused you so much satisfaction is done.

“On your back, baby. It’ll make it easier.”

He hooks one leg across his waist, holding it tenderly as he slips inside of you. He groans at the feeling of finally entering you, your walls still drenched from your previous arousal. He doesn’t push you further than necessary though, his pace languid but purposeful.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he moans, his sounds reverberating through the room. Your body is completely at his will, the aftershocks of your orgasm leaving you spent to an unfathomable degree. All that’s left for you to give are weak whimpers of ecstasy. “So fucked out because of me,” he continues, suddenly picking up the pace.

“Are you gonna make me come again, Hyunie?” You ask, eyes half-lidded. Your body is on a slow crawl to a second release. But if Jaehyun has anything to say about it, he’ll make you orgasm before he does, like usual.

He may be full of himself, but he’s a giver.

He runs his thumb into your slick again, drawing swirls into your clit. You cry out at the feeling, him penetrating the deepest parts of you while touching the motherboard to your nerves so effortlessly. Why did he know how to get under your skin and also burn it alive?

With all of your strength, you lift your hips up to meet Jaehyun’s. He grunts as your skin meets his, his thrusts more powerful with your added effort.

“I’m gonna come, baby,” Jaehyun warns, slamming harder into you as his release comes closer to fruition.

“Me too, Hyunie,” you respond to him, the words becoming lilts of air as he pounds into you mercilessly. This orgasm is different from the first one, your body in silent surrender as the pleasure overtakes you. The only physical response you have is your slackened jaw.

“Fucking shit,” Jaehyun curses, your cunt tightening around him beautifully from your release. It pushes him into his own, his seed filling you with mind-blowing warmth.

Some of it spills out of you when you separate, but he plunges it back in with his fingers slowly. He kisses your stomach as you buck up from the sensitivity. “Easy, baby. Don’t want any of it going to waste, do we?”

Like clockwork, your satiated thoughts from pleasure become ones of humor at his ridiculous ways of claiming you for his own.

Your legs are intertwined with Jaehyun’s on the bed, the fuzzy robe you stole from the bathroom covering your body. Jaehyun is sitting up against the headboard, wearing nothing but his briefs. He says nothing but stares intently as he strokes your thigh, your focus on stuffing your face with ice-cream.

Jaehyun went downstairs shortly after he crawled off of you, even apologizing personally for you and giving an excuse of not feeling well enough to stay at the conference. Normally, you would be fine going back downstairs without a second thought. Tonight, however, seems to be different in a way you can’t pin down. Something inside of your heart has shifted, more than you thought possible.

It doesn’t help that he came back upstairs with your favorite desserts. He walked in with a bashful grin, candy and ice-cream littered across the metal tray. “Extra cherries for your sundae, right?”

Now, looking at him, the weight of all the lies you told yourself before seems unnecessary to carry any longer. Would it be so bad to admit he was annoying but also endearing?

You turn from your vanilla ice cream to look at him for the first time in forever. His mouth opens for a spoonful of your dessert, his eyes lit with glee at the prospect of you sharing with him. And you do, your heart too swollen with affection to say no.

This may be uncharted territory, but maybe it’ll be easier if you’re honest. And the truth is simple: the bane of your existence may very well be your perfect match.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[redvexillum]

@whatswrongwithblue Thank you for the request! I tried my best to showcase really long "fuckening" LOL. I would like to dedicate this story to @safination for writing two Adam x Reader stories for me - I'm just super touched, oh my god, thank you!

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, p in v, tentacle s♡x, double penetrati♡n, marathon s♡x, oral s♡x, finger♡ng, an♡l, suspension, squirt♡ng, cunniling♡s, established relationship, soft alastor, alastor being a lil shit, rough s♡x, b♡ndage, ♡verstimulation

An invisible weight tugged down your eyelids, and your shoulders drooped as if bound by chains trying to drag you down. Your eyes burned, your lips felt dry, and your head began to spin. Even in Hell, exhaustion was inescapable. You glanced over at Alastor, who hummed softly as he cleared away the cup of Zestea with a snap of his fingers. 

You adjusted the soft, fuzzy towel wrapped around you, sitting on the bed with damp hair draped over your shoulders. Fresh from a warm bath Alastor had prepared, you’d hoped it would relax your body, but all you felt was the maddening sensation of a mind wide awake while your body remained fatigued. 

“Ugh, I can’t do it,” you whined, pressing your forehead against your knee and tapping it in frustration. “I’ve been trying to sleep for days, Alastor.” As you lifted your head, you caught his eyebrow arching at your childish display. 

The longer you went without sleep, the whinier you became, feeling reduced to a petulant child. You knew it wasn’t fair, but the frustration of your body resisting your mind’s wishes was beyond torment. 

“Darling,” Alastor began, his voice velvety smooth. 

“Ugh!” You cut him off by flopping back onto the bed, starfishing as the towel wrapped around you started to loosen. “This suuuucks!” you groaned, lightly kicking your heels against the bed in an attempt to release your growing frustration. 

“Darl-” 

“I don’t understand! I tried everything.” You rolled onto your stomach and shut your eyes tightly. “I was such a terrible insomniac back when I was alive, and now I have to deal with this for the rest of eternity?” 

“Dar-” 

“What kind of crappy hellhole is this? This seems petty, even for the big guy upstairs, don’t you think?” you continued, oblivious to your surroundings. 

“Darling!” Alastor finally raised his voice, and at that moment, tentacles erupted from the bed, grasping your limbs. 

Your arms and legs twisted at awkward angles as your body hovered over the bed. The towel slipped free, landing quietly on the bed and baring your form before Alastor. 

"Thirteen times," Alastor murmured, his voice dripping with unrestrained amusement, his crimson eyes glinting as they pinned you in place. His hands tucked neatly behind his back, he seemed perfectly composed, though the smirk curling at the edges of his mouth betrayed a darker intent. 

Confused, you blinked up at him—only to yelp as the cool, silken press of his shadow tendrils began to glide over your bare skin, teasingly slow. One snaked its way between the cleft of your ass, trailing with lazy patience, the tip wriggling just at your entrance, coaxing a sharp intake of breath from you as pleasure rippled up your spine. Every nerve felt alive, electric, your skin flushing under his unwavering gaze. 

"Thirteen times you’ve been acting like a spoiled child today, darling," Alastor’s voice was smooth, chiding, though his eyes were lit with something wicked, ravenous. 

Another shadowy tendril traced up your neck, its soft, almost squishy texture making your skin prickle. Then, with one swift movement, it pressed into your mouth, muffling any protest you might’ve made as it filled you. Another tendril wrapped its gentle, pulsing form around your heated skin as it circled down around your breasts, caressing and teasing. 

“Mhm…” You tried to respond, your voice muffled, a low hum of pleasure vibrating through you as the tendrils toyed with you. When the tendril in your mouth finally pulled back to let you gasp for air, another tendril plunged deep into your slick core, sliding in with one smooth, tantalizing stroke, filling you completely. A gasp escaped your lips, mingling with a moan as the feeling of fullness set every inch of you aflame, your body helplessly arching into his touch. 

“Thirteen times, I’ll help you,” Alastor drawled, his voice low and edged with dark delight. His eyes narrowed to glittering crescents as his grin grew, sharp and almost feral. "Relax," he whispered, his tone smooth as honey as the tendrils inside you began to move, slow and steady, drawing out every inch of pleasure. Each movement left you wanting, needing, as he drew out every moment, teasing you with that maddening slowness. 

Your body began to melt under his control, a soft moan spilling from you as your muscles, once taut with frustration, relaxed into his grip. “Does it feel good, darling?” Alastor’s voice dropped to a husky murmur, another shadow tendril swirling around one of your nipples, tightening into a small, deliciously snug loop that squeezed and teased. 

“Ah!” Your eyes fell shut, hips rocking as your chest arched forward, giving him everything to see, to touch. “Y-yes,” you gasped, your words coming out in soft, breathless sounds, the tendril inside you quickening, its movements slick, rhythmic, filling the air with soft, lewd sounds as it thrust deeper, harder. "Oh, Alastor, it’s… hah… oh," you panted, your voice breaking into needy little cries as he guided you to the edge, the tendrils driving you further and further until pleasure crashed over you in waves. 

Your stomach muscles quivered as your whole body tightened, a cry escaping as your walls clenched around the tendril inside, shuddering through every inch of you. 

"One," Alastor murmured, his grin never wavering, his gaze searing into you with that dark promise. 

In the hazy bliss of release, realization dawned, sending another thrill of anticipation through you—he intended to count each of your climaxes, to draw out every peak, never stopping until he reached thirteen. 

As you struggled to catch your breath, the tendrils began their slow, relentless dance once again. They curled against your still-sensitive walls, pressing and stretching you as warmth and pleasure bloomed anew. 

"F-fuck," you exhaled, as the shadow tendril that once entered your mouth slipped between your parted lips once more, moving slowly in and out, coaxing yet another trembling moan from deep within. 

Once more, that searing pleasure began to build, crashing into the remnants of your last release. It was a mere matter of minutes before another wave surged through you, and this time, the heat seemed endless, a delicious agony of pleasure that took over completely. 

With each wave, your mind grew hazier, lost in the raw, pulsing need that Alastor seemed to stoke with every touch. The world became a blur of pleasure, each second stretching, lingering. At one point, you found your head thrown back, legs stretched out and quivering, your body suspended just above the floor. Alastor’s mouth was buried between your thighs, his deep hums reverberating through you as his tongue explored every sensitive inch of your core, slow and pleasing, dragging out every moment. 

Drool escaped from the corner of your parted lips, trailing down your cheek as shadowy tendrils wrapped around you, coaxing your mouth open wider, sliding between your lips and wiggling against your tongue. Every inch of your body burned under his gaze, his presence radiating a heady power that made your pulse quicken.

“Mhm,” Alastor hummed in satisfaction, the dark glint in his eyes making your heart race. In the haze, you heard the metallic clink of his belt buckle loosening, followed by the sharp whisper of his zipper. His hot tongue continued to lap at you, his lips wrapping around your folds as he sucked your clit, firm and lingering, the touch like fire against your swollen, oversensitive skin. 

“MMPH,” you gasped, the sound muffled by the tendril holding your mouth open, but the helpless, desperate sound escaped all the same. Your eyes widened as his fingers began circling your tight entrance of your ass, the slick warmth of his touch teasing, coaxing as he eased one finger inside, withdrawing, then pressing deeper with each slow stroke. 

His tongue thrust deeper, finding every hidden spot, his finger pressing against that thin sensitive wall between your two entrances. The dual sensation was too much, the pressure building and consuming you, your walls clenching helplessly around his tongue as another wave crashed through you, leaving you breathless, your abdomen tightening with the force of release. 

Every lick, every draw of his lips against your clit left you trembling, lost in the sweet torture he inflicted with such calm, focused precision. Each stroke was perfectly timed, drawing out each moment, extending your pleasure as though he revelled in the sounds you made, the way your body arched and jolted beneath him. 

In the fog of pleasure, you heard him murmur, “Seven.” 

When you came to your senses again, you found yourself bent over, your body limp and pliant, the tendrils holding you aloft in midair as though you were a doll, utterly at his mercy. A bead of drool stretched from your parted lips, joined by tears of pleasure as your mouth let out soft, pleading moans. The two tendrils were thrusting into you now, each movement synchronized, the slick, wet sounds filling the air as they moved with a steady, unrelenting rhythm. 

Your gaze drifted up, finding Alastor seated at the edge of the bed, his hand wrapped around his own hardened length. He stroked himself as he watched you, a look of dark satisfaction glinting in his crimson eyes. 

It was only when one tendril hit that perfect spot within you, pressing firmly against your G-spot while the other filled your other tight entrance completely, that you finally broke, a scream tearing from you as the overstimulation shattered something deep within. The tendril at your lips pulled away, only to be replaced by something hotter, thicker, its weight heavy on your tongue, the taste of salt and musk filling your senses as Alastor’s cock pressed between your lips, sliding deep. 

A warm rush of arousal trickled down your thighs as your voice was muffled by his length, the taste and heft of him only heightening the fiery pleasure rippling through your body. Endless waves crashed over you, each movement of the tendril against your G-spot triggering new jolts of ecstasy that seemed boundless, unending, leaving you helpless to the pleasure he so expertly, mercilessly gave. 

Alastor groaned above you, his breath warm and rough as he slowly pushed his thick, heated cock in and out of your mouth, holding you steady, savouring every inch of movement. His pace was unhurried, each slow thrust teasing, almost torturous, as his gaze locked onto yours, intense and devouring. Your arousal dripped down your thighs, tracing warm, wet trails along your skin, each drop pooling and slipping from the tips of your toes. 

“Twelve, darling,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, edged with delight. “Let’s make the last one count.” 

The world around you swirled as he lowered you back onto the bed, your body sinking into its soft warmth. Breath ragged, eyes misted, you lay sprawled out, hips trembling from the relentless pleasure that still pulsed through you. Your skin felt hot, nerves buzzing, and each lingering touch of his fingers traced over your sensitized flesh like fire. 

Your eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, every inch of your body both sated and aching. Alastor moved above you, the rough fabric of his suit brushing against your sensitive skin, heightening every touch. His face hovered just inches from yours, close enough that his breath ghosted over your lips as he let the length of his cock trail along your soaked folds, the friction sending sparks of pleasure that left you breathless. 

“This one’s mostly for me,” he murmured, a wicked grin spreading as he gently brushed damp strands of hair from your forehead, his fingers warm against your skin. 

Your body arched in response, anticipation building as his thick cock finally pressed against you, the heat of him molten as he slowly entered, stretching you inch by inch. Your breath hitched, a hoarse, needy sound escaping as he filled you, the sensation overwhelming. He didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt, his belt buckle pressing sharply against your heated skin, a rough contrast that only heightened the feeling of fullness. 

Every muscle in your body clenched as waves of pleasure rippled outward, your nerves raw and hypersensitive, ready for another release that you could feel building within. Your lips parted, words caught in your throat as a helpless whimper slipped out, each slight twitch in response to his touch making you tremble. 

With one hand, he held the top of your head, his fingers threading into your hair as he grinned, dark eyes gleaming. Alastor drew back slowly, then snapped his hips forward, and your back arched as your breasts bounced, his rough pace jolting your body with each thrust, his grip on your head keeping you steady as his cock found every sensitive spot within. 

“Al—” you gasped, voice breaking, your eyes rolling back, lids heavy with exhaustion and pleasure, each blink longer as your mind swam in the intensity. 

He drew back and drove forward again, hips pressing hard against you, each impact a sinful contrast against the throbbing heat of your body. The sensation was overwhelming, each strike pressing into your sensitive clit, bringing you higher. His grunts mingled with your soft moans, and the rhythmic creaking of the bed was all you could hear, each movement pushing you to the edge, again and again. 

The relentless rhythm sent you deeper into bliss, every thrust pressing you into the mattress, each slick sound growing louder as he moved faster, harder. His cock rubbed against your inner walls, hitting all your sensitive spots, while the front of his pelvis struck your swollen clit with every thrust, sending a sharp, electrifying pleasure through you. 

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, pleasure breaking over you in a blinding rush, your body writhing as the release washed through you. Darkness tinged the edges of your vision, and you cried out, guttural and raw, as another flood of arousal spilled from you, leaving you trembling, body spent in the aftermath of pure ecstasy. 

You couldn’t open your eyes, let alone move your body. A dull heaviness clung to you, making every part of you feel like lead. Vaguely, you felt a twitch in your leg, a reminder of the overwhelming sensation that had consumed you earlier, leaving you utterly exposed. Your body lay wide open, but at that moment, you felt a delicious thrill rather than shame, too intoxicated by the aftershocks of pleasure to care. Gradually, the world around you faded into a blissful oblivion, and you drifted into unconsciousness. 

When you finally woke up, the first sensation was the softness of the sheets against your skin. You blinked blearily, realizing you were curled up in your pyjamas, holding on to your pillow. Every muscle ached, a pleasant reminder of the night’s indulgence, but your mind felt clearer now. As you looked around, confusion settled in; you were alone in the vast expanse of Alastor’s bed, surrounded by the lingering scent of him.

Holding the pillow tightly to your chest, a cold wash of loneliness hit you, heavy and suffocating. How could he have fucked you into unconsciousness and just left? The least he could do was stay, to wrap his arms around you and share the warmth after such an intense experience. A sigh escaped your lips, a mix of frustration and yearning. Perhaps he had cuddled you while you were lost in sleep, but the emptiness in the bed felt cold, and you craved his presence. 

Contemplating, you tried to settle back down, hoping to find solace in sleep again, but the silence of the room felt stifling. With a huff of irritation, you realized you were back at square one—restless and alone. Sitting up, you pulled the pillow against your chest, desperate for a sense of comfort. 

A sudden spark of determination flickered within you, and you decided to check the Radio Tower. It was his usual point of interest, and you hoped he might still be there. Climbing the stairs, excitement bubbled in your chest. Peering through the door window, you caught sight of Alastor’s back, his smooth voice floating through the air like music, wrapping around you and bringing an involuntary smile to your lips. 

Perhaps you could wait for him to finish his business, and then the two of you could go for a stroll. Settling onto the weathered couch, you tucked your knees in and hugged the pillow tighter. Resting your head back, you closed your eyes, focusing on the sound of his voice. 

“One might say they were quite bone dry by the time they left Cannibal Town, hahaha,” Alastor laughed, his transatlantic accent rolling over you like a warm caress. 

You couldn’t help but snort at his silly word play, the sound bubbling up despite the heaviness in your heart. You leaned into his words, letting them wash over you, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth and familiarity. As he continued to speak, you felt yourself begin to relax, the tension in your body melting away. 

But before you knew it, his voice began to fade, the room darkening around you, pulling you into its depths. The warmth of the couch enveloped you, and soon, your consciousness slowly slipped away once more, leaving behind a lingering ache for his presence. 

Alastor let out a soft sigh, brushing off invisible dust from his arm as he stepped outside, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He felt a swell of happiness, not only because he had pleased his darling, but also because he had managed to broadcast his show right on time. Yet, as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, they caught sight of you curled up on the couch, fast asleep. 

A flicker of concern crossed his face, his brows knitting together as he wondered why you were sleeping in such an uncomfortable spot instead of the cozy bed he had prepared for you. He opened his mouth, ready to chastise you for choosing the couch over the warmth of your own bedding, but as he got closer, his breath hitched. The soft, gentle expression on your face silenced him. 

Alastor paused, his hand hovering just above your shoulder, a mix of irritation and affection coursing through him. Should he really wake you? But before he could make up his mind, a smirk tugged at his lips, and with a snap of his fingers, a plush blanket materialized, draping softly over your body. He couldn’t help but soften the jagged edge of his smile when he heard the lovely sigh that escaped your lips as you instinctively snuggled deeper into the pillow, blissfully unaware of his presence. 

He stood there, captivated, his eyes locked onto your serene face. A warmth spread through his chest as he observed you, unblinking and utterly entranced. The urge to simply leave and let you rest was his first thought, but instead, his fingers betrayed him. They reached out, tracing the strands of your hair, lifting a lock gently before placing a tender kiss upon it. His heart swelled as he watched you, his typically sharp demeanour softening in the glow of your innocence. 

But then, as if splashed with icy water, reality struck. He quickly dropped your hair as if it had burned him, a flicker of panic dancing in his eyes. He darted a furtive glance around, ensuring no one had witnessed this moment of vulnerability. Alastor, the ever-composed radio demon, was suddenly aware of how uncharacteristic his actions had been. 

The sensible thing would be to let you sleep, especially after the struggles you had faced throughout the week. Yet, against his better judgment, he summoned a chair next to you, settling down with a resigned huff. 

As he waited, a swirl of emotions churned inside him—anticipation, affection, and a strange sense of longing. He found himself drawn to the idea of spending the rest of eternity by your side, watching you awaken to a world painted in shades of endless amusement, delight, and his presence. 

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[storiesoflilies]

t.w: mentions of death.

“don’t you know that the hour of your death isn’t upon you yet?”

grimreaper!toji stood there at the top of the hill, his figure a herald of darkness, while the moon tenderly hugged his back, bathing him in the only holy light he would ever know.

“you’re here,” she whispered breathlessly.

toji titled his head. “you called for me,” he replied smoothly, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

(perhaps it was.)

the grass beneath his feet had wilted, flower petals withered and crushed under the cool metal of his boot. she couldn’t see his face beneath the wispy strands of his tattered black robes that shrouded him, but she didn’t need to. she already knew the color of his eyes, had felt the sharp curve of his jawline, and the press of his lips against her hairline.

she knew what death felt like.

and she needed to feel him again.

his scythe glinted dangerously, its sharp edge thirsting for an exposed throat. the wind howled around them, biting and gnawing at her cheeks.

“take me with you,” she finally mustered, her voice breaking like waves against the shoreline. “please.”

he was in front of her in an instant. toji was something half like an apparition, but she knew that he was real – perhaps more real than anything on this earth. she saw the shadow of his mouth beneath his hood and a glimpse of the scar on his lip, and wondered what sort of creature could have hurt someone like him.

“it is not your hour,” he repeatedly gently, like a soothing balm smeared over the aching pain in her heart.

she reached out, gripping the shreds of his robes in her tight fists. “i don’t care.”

toji’s lips curled in anger, and the wind howled even harder. “why be so careless with your life? does my blade not frighten you?”

(she could never admit it to him that it never had, and never would.)

his scythe of fire and ice. it had once delicately kissed the base of her throat as a lover might do, drawing only a single ruby droplet of blood. for reasons unbeknownst to her – and perhaps even to toji himself – he had coaxed away the death wrapped around her bones and drawn her soul back from the abyss.

her face crumpled, a single tear running down her cheek like silver.

“i miss you,” she mumbled pathetically, staring at the broad expanse of his chest doused in black. “so much that it makes my soul bleed.”

toji sighed, and sad and ancient sound. he never liked to see her so distraught, for it was in his inherent nature to comfort. to free a person’s soul from the shell of their body, to hold them in the palms of his hands to set them free into the sky before they had the chance to know any real suffering.

(death is kind – kinder than anything that belongs to this world.)

gloved fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face upwards to him. his lips were so close to her now; if only toji would bend down just a little lower, they would meet like the greatest oceans of the world colliding together.

“death would be your greatest doom.”

she shook her head. “no, it–you wouldn’t. i could go with you wherever you went, always.”

toji faltered, his mouth parted as the words danced on his tongue. finally, he admitted shamefully, “i do not wish to love you.”

but she knew that already.

she knew that toji regretted ever letting her know his touch, never meant for her to have ever heard his voice. to know death was to be draped in iron chains, binding her to him until the end of time, and he had always known it would happen.

toji had known all along and had done it anyway.

death is a selfish, selfish being.

her bottom lip trembled as he rubbed his thumb over it. “but you do.”

“and yet, i do.”

they stood together silently, her hands delicately holding his thick forearms wrapped in many layers of cloth. she wondered what it was that toji was waiting for. perhaps for an act of god. for the ocean to sweep them both into the deepest depths, her hand in his as the sky crumbled into swirling, inky water. she wondered if it would hurt, if it would be cold and lonely until toji’s blade fully kissed her.

(she knew she would not cry when death came for her.)

“close your eyes,” toji murmured quietly, relenting at last.

for death could never deny her.

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

tl;dr hitting blinkers on a dab pen with stoner!suguru getou [prev] [nxt]

your situationship with suguru remains undefined. not that it’s pressing—you’re comfortable with deepening the relationship before labeling it. to you, he’s your man that’s not your man, but that’s your man. and if that’s confusing, then trying to define your relationship with gojo might just send you into a spiral. you quickly learned that being involved with suguru means gojo is automatically part of the package, like some bizarre two-for-one deal. 

after only a couple of interactions, gojo was already insisting you call him by his first name, texting you like you’d been friends for years. suguru warned you he was clingy, but you’d imagined it on a smaller scale. not that it’s a problem—he’s not annoying. if anything, he’s entertaining, sending you memes, munchies, and random gossip. since suguru doesn’t seem to mind and occasionally looks relieved to have gojo off his back, you’re happy to go along with it.

the conversation you find yourselves revisiting the most is about suguru’s uncanny ability to outsmoke both of you. every single time, with no exceptions. while you and gojo are baked into the furniture, marveling at how vivid your senses have become, suguru is casually riding a mellow high, maybe a little giggly, but never anywhere close to where you and gojo end up.

the downside? for you, it means being hyper-aware of his fleeting, soft touches—every caress amplified, every kiss leaving you spiraling. one brush of his fingers, and you’re a mess, a pillow princess completely wrecked before things even escalate. you wish you could share that out-of-body, dreamlike state with him, instead of the night ending with him looking after you and gojo like a couple of overgrown children.

gojo, ever the opportunist, proposed a solution: dab pens.

“totally different experience,” he assured you. while building tolerance to smoking is something you can gradually ease into, a dab pen hits like a truck—instant and overwhelming, a visceral high. he already had one picked out, but you can’t help the pang of guilt that creeps in. is it wrong to be plotting on suguru like this? the question lingers, so you text gojo for some reassurance.

satoru :3: nahh its morally grey

you: that’s still not good

satoru :3: everything is relative, the earth is flat, life is a simulation satoru :3: come on I alr bought the cart

you: oh brother you: fine pick it up rn bc I got my shift covered tmr and suguru’s free tn

satoru :3: kay! btw its 90.02% thc satoru :3: the packaging has an alien abduction on it :P

you: you’re not making me feel better

satoru :3: my accomplice <3

you: what if it doesnt work you: ive seen him face 4 blunts. back2back

satoru :3: not if we hit blinkers yk his ass is competitive

you: I just might die tn…

accepting that you have no idea where the night will take you, you call an uber to their apartment, savoring what feels like your final moments of lucidity for the day. when you arrive, you see suguru sitting on the stoop of the building, passing a blunt to toji, whose bruised eye is still faintly visible, serving as a reminder of his failed attempt to hit on you.

men are so uncomplicated—they argue, tussle, and then they’re back to being cordial like nothing ever happened.

as you approach, toji ashes the blunt and nods in acknowledgment. you squint, making out the detailing on toji’s sweatsuit—it’s denim tears, and overall he looks way more put together. his dark hair is trimmed neatly, and he’s sporting a silver chain. suguru’s lounging comfortably in grey sweats, and an oversized black tee. he rises, effortlessly pulling you into his arms. 

“hey baby,” he greets warmly, and you can smell the faint mint of his shampoo beneath the haze of smoke clinging to him. you squeeze his waist, drawing back to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“hi sugu,” you eye toji warily—nodding his way, “toji.”

suguru gestures to toji, “go ahead and top that off, we’re heading in.”

“good lookin’,” toji replies with a sly smirk, waving you away, “see ya.”

the elevator doors slide shut, commencing its ascent, and you can’t help but ask, “is toji out here robbing folks?”

suguru chuckles, clearly amused. “kinda. he started scamming, swiping cards, and jamming chips—that kind of thing.” he shakes his head. “honestly, he’s really been hustling. I’ve never seen him more actively involved with megumi.”

you draw in a breath, “well… that’s good?”

inside, the apartment is clean, lavender-scented, and gojo is already sprawled on the couch, watching cartoons. he brightens when he sees you, enthusiastically patting the seat beside him.

“finally! we’ve been waiting forever.”

“forever” turns out to be less than an hour, according to suguru, but gojo whines dramatically anyway. 

“so,” suguru drawls, eyeing you both suspiciously, “what are you two plotting?”

gojo disappears momentarily, returning with the dab pen like a magician revealing his trick. 

“ta-daa~!” he announces.

suguru blinks, unimpressed. “it’s just a pen?”

“not just any pen,” you reply, resting a hand on his thigh. “trust us.”

gojo smirks. “unless you’re scared or something?... pussy.”

suguru raises a brow, grabbing the pen. “so how are we gonna do this?”

you clasp your hands together, “we can only hit blinkers.”

just as gojo predicted, suguru’s competitive streak takes over. after throwing some jabs and a quick trip to the fridge to stockpile water, you’re ready.

gojo takes the lead, he activates the pen, pressing the button down five times until it glows an ominous red. he lifts it to his lips with a mock salute taking a deep, dramatic inhale. the faint woosh of his draw drags on for several seconds until the light blinks. 

he ghosts the thick smoke for a moment, then exhales in a steady stream. “easy.” he declares smugly—until the coughing starts. his bravado crumbles as he hacks and sputters, spilling water in his frantic search for a sip.

your hit goes about as well. the initial inhale feels smooth, but halfway through, your throat ignites like you’ve swallowed fire. you’re left chugging water, gasping for relief while gojo’s laughter fills the room.

suguru’s hit is no different. he takes the pen with his usual quiet confidence, lips curling around it like this is nothing. the first few seconds are smooth—calculated, even—until the thick, milky smoke betrays him. he chokes, his back shaking as a fit of coughing overtakes him.

“shit,” he rasps, eyes squeezed shut as he leans back. “that cart packs a punch.”

twenty minutes pass, you think you’ve suffered through three, maybe four more hits and you’re all sprawled on the couch in a collective stupor, shoulders pressed together as the room swirls in a pleasant, woozy haze.

your head feels like it’s been submerged underwater. being sandwiched between suguru and gojo, doesn’t help, the warmth of their bodies makes you hyper-aware of how sluggish and foggy you feel. instinctively, you twitch and then wonder if anyone noticed. the tv sounds several decibels louder and you realize that gojo has been watching scooby-doo. 

“hear me out—,” gojo declares out of nowhere, “velma?”

suguru hums. “not really a hear me out. most people would.” he looks at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’d love to see you dressed as velma—have you fumbling for your glasses.”

your cheeks flush, but gojo ignores it pressing on. “fred?”

“basic.”

“okay… I got it. the sheriff, he’s got big dick energy.”

you decidedly don’t hear him out. but, he’s already moving on to the next “pressing” issue.

“guys. guys.” he jabs a finger at the screen, “I neeed that big-ass sandwich. like right now. ’m starving!”

honestly, he’s got a point. the towering sandwich dripping with sauces and stacked with layers of meat and veggies looks incredibly appetizing in your current state. suguru seems to agree because he grabs your hand and drags you to the fridge.

the sight inside is… grim. two eggs, a loaf of bread that looks like it’s been there too long, a couple of protein drinks, and some beer.

suguru lets out a long, dramatic groan. “guess we’re hitting the corner store. at least it’s only a block away.”

“an adventure!” gojo leaps to his feet, spinning in an exaggerated flourish. “let’s go!”

the three of you pile into the elevator, the hum of its old machinery filling the small space. when the doors creak open on the ground floor—the correct floor this time (you may have accidentally pressed the second floor first)—there, waiting for you, is obstacle # 1: the brats.

megumi and his friends are darting back and forth across the lobby, their shrill laughter echoing as they roughhouse. you think they’re playing tag, but you’re not sure. the three of you freeze, exchanging a silent look before attempting to walk in a straight line toward the door, as if that might somehow make you invisible.

it doesn’t. if anything, it makes you look incredibly suspicious.

“you guys look weird!” a high-pitched voice cracks through the commotion. “you know you don’t need to walk in a line—we’re not at school!”

you glance down to see one of megumi’s friends: a boy with short pink hair and big brown eyes, staring up at you curiously.

megumi approaches, scowling. his dark brows knit together in a way that makes you feel like you’ve just been caught red-handed.

“I know these guys,” he announces, side-eyeing you all. “they’re friends with my dad. and they’re too old to still be walking in lines.”

he tilts his head, sharp and accusatory. “did you guys cook with my dad’s pot?”

gojo, the boldest of the three of you, raises an eyebrow. “what?”

“you know, my dad’s pot. my mom’s always telling him to stop using it because it smells funny. I don’t know why he doesn’t just wash it. after he cooks with it, he acts weird like this too.”

oh.

suguru takes drastic measures. “megumi, nobara just tagged you back! are you really going to let that slide?”

megumi whips around, glaring at the little girl with cropped brown hair. “nobara!” he yells, charging after her.

taking advantage of the distraction, the three of you bolt for the door.

outside, the crisp night air greets you. despite the brief confrontation, you continue walking in a rigid line, suguru leading the way toward the corner store. you’re at the back, stumbling over your own feet every few steps. gojo, meanwhile, is completely engrossed in his phone, so much so that he almost walks into a pole.

reaching the corner store comes with a short-lived sense of accomplishment until you encounter obstacle #2: deciding what to buy.

inside, the fluorescent lights are harsh and invasive, humming faintly. the cashier, a thin man with neatly parted black hair and sharp cheekbones, greets suguru with a polite nod.

“what’s up, ijichi?” suguru says, raising a hand.

“welcome back, getou. let me know if I can help you with anything,” ijichi replies, his voice monotone but cordial.

you stalk the aisles like predators circling prey, overwhelmed by options. after what feels like an eternity of indecision—picking things up, putting them down, and staring some more—you finally gather your haul and head to the register.

ijichi surveys your collection with barely concealed disbelief: a cinnamon roll, two twinkies, a ready-made hotdog, a bag of hot fries, two cherry cokes, and a pack of gummy bears.

as he rings up your total, you think you catch him gagging slightly. you clutch the back of suguru’s shirt for support, and he glances at you, startled, as if he hadn’t realized you were standing so close.

ijichi bags your items in a flimsy plastic sack, his expression somewhere between amused and horrified. “have a… safe night.”

the bell jingles as the door closes behind you, and a cold breeze makes you shiver. gojo digs into the bag immediately, tearing open a twinkie wrapper with his teeth.

“’s’jus me,” he mumbles through a mouthful, “or waf he lookin’ at ush weird?”

suguru points to his own mouth. “satoru, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

gojo swipes at his face, wiping crumbs on his joggers. his phone dings sharply, and he frowns, glancing at the screen before looking up at you nervously. in comes obstacle # 3: gojo’s spontaneous antics.

“satoru,” you say, crossing your arms both to steady yourself and shield against the cold. “what did you do?”

suguru doesn’t notice your exasperation—he’s in his own world, his hair draped over his shoulder, stray strands framing his face. his faraway expression, cheeks puffed out slightly, makes him look softer than usual. you’d think it was cute if you weren’t so annoyed.

gojo’s explanation spills out in one breath. “okay, so watching scooby-doo made me think about dogs so naturally I started looking up puppy pics on insta, and a breeder I know—,” he gestures to suguru, “yaga, posted about a litter of puppies he’s trying to sell, and I, uh… I made an impulse buy.”

“what?!” you and suguru exclaim in unison.

gojo flinches but presses on. “I wasn’t thinking! they’re pit-lab mixes, and soo cute I couldn’t resist. I didn’t think he’d be ready to sell one so fast, but he’s here now.”

as you near the apartment, you spot a black suv parked out front, hazards blinking. its headlights flash as if signaling to gojo, whose unmistakable white hair gives him away.

gojo shakes his arms out. “guys, do I sound normal? I need to fix this before I come off as an irresponsible pothead.”

“you are an irresponsible pothead,” suguru deadpans, though he smirks. “but yeah, you’re the most coherent right now. lead the way.”

the suv’s window rolls down, revealing a bulky man with dark glasses and a goatee.

“satoru, that you? suguru? long time no see. hop in—the puppies are in the back. you’ve got the pick of the litter.”

gojo heads for the rear door, but suguru tugs at your shirt, pulling you back. his voice is quiet, almost hesitant. “hey… I’m feeling kind of overwhelmed. can you wait with me for a sec before we deal with gojo’s nonsense?”

your heart melts. “of course.” you wave gojo off, telling him you’ll catch up in a minute, and follow suguru into a narrow alley running alongside the building. it’s secluded and dimly lit, the faint sounds of the city echo in the distance as you stop and turn to him.

grasping his hands, you intertwine your fingers with his. his face is slightly flushed, his expression open and vulnerable.

“are you okay? do you want to go inside?”

“no, no—” he waves it off, his voice soft but tight. “I’m just… overstimulated. everything feels too loud, too sharp. I’m all over the place.”

you snort softly, amused by the unexpected role reversal. “that’s how gojo and I end up feeling half the time. you’re so cute.”

rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, you press a gentle kiss to his jaw.

“what do you need from me?” you ask.

he leans into your touch, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “this is nice,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist and nestling his face into the crook of your neck. his breath is warm, tickling your skin.

instinctively, your hands sweep under his loose top, brushing over the warmth of his back. his body shivers at your touch, goosebumps rising beneath your fingertips.

“how’s this?” you ask softly.

“good,” he breathes.

you pull back slightly, cupping his jaw and bringing his face close. your lips hover over his, teasing. “just focus on my touch, okay?”

he hums in agreement, and when your lips finally meet, he responds with uncharacteristic urgency. his kiss is fervent, a raw expression of need that makes your pulse race. his hands grip your hips firmly, drawing you closer as his mouth moves against yours. he licks into your mouth, brushes his tongue against yours, making you gasp, then tilts his head to suck on it.

when your fingers trail to the waistband of his sweats, his breath hitches sharply. his reaction is all the encouragement you need, the air between you dense with tension.

he groans, his voice low and ragged as your palm brushes over the prominent bulge straining against the fabric. “fuck—ah, more.”

you glance up, his flushed face and dilated pupils making your heart race. without hesitation, you sink to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes with a teasing smile.

“more?” you echo, pulling his sweats down just enough to release the pressure. leaning in, you blow warm air over the outline of his thick cock through the thin material of his boxers. he shudders, his composure shattering.

“sugu I want to taste you,” you murmur, your voice dripping with need.

he curses under his breath, fumbling to free himself. his hand wraps around his thick shaft, slowly pumping himself once, twice, before guiding his tip along your cheek. pre-cum smears against your skin, warm and sticky. 

“aah,” he groans when you stick out your tongue, letting a trail of saliva drip onto the concrete below. he presses his tip to your tongue, rubbing it up and down as you curl it along his slit.

replacing his hand with your own, you lick a slow, deliberate line from base to tip, savoring the salty tang of his pre-cum. his fingers tangle in your hair, tugging gently as you take him into your mouth, inch by inch, until your lips are flush against the tuft of black hair at his base.

“baby, you feel so good,” he rasps, his voice heavy with pleasure. “your mouth is so warm, wet—” you swallow, tightening around him, and he chokes out a shaky breath. “—and tight.”

you cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm. his hips jerk, a low moan spilling from his lips. tears sting at the corners of your eyes, but you keep your gaze locked on his, letting the sight of his unraveling spur you on.

“I’m close—fuck,” he warns, his voice tight. 

pulling back, you kiss along his shaft, your hand stroking him in slow, deliberate motions. you glance, lips curling into a sly smile as you whisper, “sugu, come inside.” 

his breath catches as you take him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. his moans grow louder, uninhibited, as he grips your hair and begins to guide your movements, fucking your throat.

“ah—fuck, gonna come,” he groans.

you intertwine your fingers with his free hand, holding his gaze as you pull back to suck on his tip, tongue swirling over the slit. with a long drawn-out groan of your name, he spills into your mouth, hot and thick. you swallow every drop, licking your lips as he twitches in your grasp.

“fuck,” he breathes, his voice shaky as he tucks himself back into his sweats. “you’re insatiable.”

you rise to your feet, knees aching from the rough concrete. he steadies you, brushing stray hairs from your face. leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to his lips, letting him bask in the afterglow.

but when you glance over his shoulder, your heart sinks. a few feet above you, a first-floor window you hadn’t noticed before now has its curtains slightly parted. behind the glass, a familiar face smirks at you.

toji.

you freeze up as he leans casually against the window frame, his brows wagging. he raises a finger to his lips, motioning for you to keep his presence quiet. his amusement obvious.

mortified, you whip your gaze back to suguru, pretending nothing happened. the curtains slide shut in your peripheral, and you suppress a shudder, vowing to bury the memory of toji’s shameless voyeurism.

“you good?” suguru asks, brushing your hair back into place.

“yeah.” you mumble. “let’s get back.” 

hand in hand, you return to the street, your absence evidently unnoticed. tucked between two parked cars, gojo sits on the curb, cooing at a tiny white puppy wriggling in his arms.

“satoru,” you gape. “you actually went through with it?”

he grins up at you, holding the puppy aloft like a trophy. “isn’t he adorable? named him gojo junior.”

suguru pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a long, tired sigh. “just—let’s go back upstairs.”

the three of you collapse onto the couch, exhaustion settling in. you curl up against suguru’s chest, your limbs boneless, as gojo turns on the tv. the puppy nestles in his lap, so he carefully reaches for the dab pen on the coffee table, grinning lazily.

“one more hit to top off the night?” ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 after ten hours of deep, uninterrupted slumber, you stir awake to the gentle warmth of sunlight streaming through the curtains, coaxing you back to reality. the unfamiliar comfort beneath you takes a moment to register—you’re not on the couch anymore. suguru’s bed cradles you, his arm draped securely around your waist. his breath is steady against the back of your neck, and as you try to shift, his hold tightens.

“mm, too tired. stay,” he mumbles groggily.

a smile tugs at your lips, and for a brief moment, you consider giving in. his warmth, the soothing rhythm of his breathing, and his gentle scent are enough to make you melt back into the mattress. but you’d rather not over-oversleep.

suguru’s hand snakes into your hair, his fingers threading through the strands with a languid tenderness. “what if we just… stay here all day?” he whispers, his lips grazing the nape of your neck.

the temptation is overwhelming. his gentle strokes and soft breaths pull you toward complacency, but you’ve already slept more than enough. with a groan, you prop yourself up against his pillow, feeling the resistance of his arm as he tries to pull you back.

“come on, suguru,” you say, brushing a hand through his tousled hair. “time to wake up.”

he grumbles something incoherent and eventually lifts his head, his cheek faintly indented by the pillow. his squinted eyes and weak smile somehow make him even more striking. the sunlight spilling into the room catches the soft angles of his face, illuminating him perfectly.

“too early,” he groans, shielding his eyes with his hand before reaching out to pull you into a lazy kiss. his lips are warm, slow, and deliberate, but you break away, placing your hands on his shoulders to gently shake him.

“you’re impossible,” you tease, laughing softly.

you reach for his phone on the nightstand, thrusting it in his direction. “here, play some music or scroll through your timeline—do something to get your brain working.”

suguru takes it with a half-hearted hum, pulling you back into his chest as he unlocks it. he scrolls aimlessly through his playlist, swiping through songs too quickly to process. then, a slow, melodic guitar riff fills the room, and his hand finally falters. the soft acoustic melody of sunflower drifts through the air, a perfect match for the warm, serene moment.

his free hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers as he sways you gently. the vibrations of his hum resonate in his chest, and you can’t help but lean into the sound. you savor this side of him—the quiet, vulnerable suguru who lets himself soften in the morning light.

but then, a thought surfaces. the dog. the vivid memory of gojo proudly holding a squirming puppy the night before is unshakable.

“suguru,” you whisper. “what about the dog?”

his body tenses and his eyes snap open. “the wh—” he bolts upright, groaning. “shit, the dog. he really did that? I was hoping I made that part up.”

the two of you stumble into the living room, both disheveled from sleep. gojo is sprawled on the couch, one leg hanging off the side, snoring softly. the puppy darts around the room, tiny paws clicking against the floor.

suguru scoops up the wriggling pup and plops him onto gojo’s chest, startling him awake.

groaning, gojo blinks blearily at the excited puppy licking his face. you watch in real-time as all of yesterday’s events finally catch up to him. he looks up slowly, blue eyes wide, panicked.

“guys,” he says, voice cracking. “how do I return a dog?”

{taglist: @inthedarkshadows000 @saltyhansen | insp: @tojisth3rdwife‘s ask linked [here] ty! ᡣ𐭩}

[teencopandthesourwolf]

WOLF BOY

when ao3 goes down, we write tumblr fic... now on ao3 HERE lol

i used the 15/11/24 @sterekdrabbles challenge for this. the prompt words were GREEN, REACH and SCATTER. i'm also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as it's around 1K words and therefore definitely a drabble gone long lol.

it's a spark!stiles slash derek whump sort of affair, just so you know what you're reading xp

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The dagger is almost within his reach—so very nearly grabbable.

Other than being eight years old in a hospital room with the smell of rotting flowers clinging to the back of his throat, Stiles doesn't think he's ever wanted anything more than this.

Again, Derek hacks out, “Just run, Stiles!”

Again, Stiles answers no—only this time, it's not with his voice but a yellow-green vine of pure light that extends from his fingertips as he pleads with each beat of his heart for the universe to help him, the tendrils stretching, stretching, then victoriously winding themselves around the handle of the blade. 

“Oh, shit,” he mutters, now with his actual voice, and then the vine of his will is pulling the knife flush into his grip. 

He looks up at the hunter, their face a billboard of surprise, before a shriek rips itself from her belly at the very same time Derek roars from where he's tethered and bound, the wolfsbane-laced chains melting further into his flesh as he tries in vain to once again break free.

Then the evil bastard is flinging herself at Stiles—and straight into the dagger aimed at her solar plexus that his light sends sailing across the cave, plunging it deep into her breast.

It might not be bullseye, but it does the trick.

As she drops to the dusty ground like a discarded ragdoll, the other two hunters' heads snap like whiplash to where Stiles is sprawled, a look of pure terror marring their faces.

The cowardly fuckers drop their weapons and scatter, leaving Stiles and Derek alone—other than the dead woman at their feet—in the large cave they'd dragged Derek into a few hours ago.

Derek's wrung out, and beaten down, but alive. 

At once, Stiles scrambles to his feet to get over to where the ʼwolf is chained up, almost falling back down again when his probably sprained ankle gives way beneath him. 

“Stop fucking hurting yourself,” Derek hisses, and for once in Stiles's insane life he wishes he could gnash his teeth and roar in response, and it have an effect that would be anything other than ridiculous. 

“Oh my god,” he protests instead. “I've just saved your offensively pretty ass with my new spark's apparently awesome Gio-Ju-ju, a-hole, so how ʼbout we be a little less sourwolf and a lot more gratefulwolf to ol’Stilesy boy here, hmm?” he sasses, finding the key to the padlock that's bolted to Derek's chains on the flat rock where his flashlight got dropped when confiscated by one of the hunters. 

Stiles feels petulant, and justified in that petulance as he discards the now unlocked padlock. Then he feels a little wrong-footed when Derek quietly mumbles, “Thank you,” because the guy sounds both in a considerable amount of pain and genuinely grateful to Stiles.

Stiles sighs and kneels down to start prizing the chains away from Derek's red-raw, still-smoking skin, the ʼwolf's forever-stoic face giving away nothing of the hurt he's obviously suffering at the cruel hands of the aconite still desperately trying to seep its way into his body.

“You don't have to do that for me, you know,” Stiles says carefully, hinting at Derek's display of endurance.

Derek's eyes flicker from mid-space to Stiles's face, and Stiles suddenly notices that their heads are actually dizzyingly close.

He swallows, and the sound of it echoes around the cave as if mocking him. 

The second he peels away the last link in the chain attached to Derek's skin, and before Derek can push him away, Stiles brings a hand to Derek's throat to feel for his pulse. 

When determined fingers find it, Derek's face does a thing that Stiles hasn't seen it do before; it's this combination of incredulous and vulnerable, and is so unprecedented, and so beautiful, that Stiles sort of wants to cry about it. 

“You can hear mine,” he superfluously reminds Derek, before saying what he really wants to. “It's not fair I don't get to know—that you're alive, I mean. Like, I know I can see it but… The tactile reassurance? That's, uh, you know, kind of nice, too.” 

Man, he spends way too much time with werewolves. 

Then, when he licks at his dry lips and Derek's pulse quickens under his fingertips, Stiles is so much more than simply placated.

Taking a steadying breath, he feels a million trillion miles away from anything even remotely resembling steady.

He studies Derek's face some more for confirmation of his suspicion, and finds something akin to bashful swimming amid the swirls of those gorgeous seafoam eyes.

Derek likes him back?

Stiles sinks his teeth into his bottom lip; Derek's pulse starts to race. 

Amazingly, it seems Stiles isn't alone in the want he feels deep in his gut, and as it grows and spreads to his extremities, his fingers and toes now tingling with it, he reckons he's maybe beaten-up and bleeding out and half-braindead enough to have the balls to actually do something about it. 

It must be biological, he thinks as he licks at his lips again, that his body somehow knows exactly what to do to hopefully get Derek to do exactly what Stiles wants him to—lick Stiles' lips for him, that is—without him making an actual fully-formed decision on the matter.

Although as soon as he's thinking that, the decision to kiss Derek is unequivocally made—even if it's going to get him shoved into the dirt for trying. 

He's about to lean in when one of Derek's already beginning-to-heal hands stops him by bracing his shoulder. 

“I can smell your pain, Stiles,” he says. “Let me help.”

Stiles tries not to smile as he lies through his teeth. “Hurts here, the most,” he murmurs, touching two fingers from the hand not at Derek's pulse to his bruised, bloody lips. He then curls the other hand further around the werewolf's neck, to hold on.

Derek starts to pant, and Stiles has to hold in a whine.

The werewolf sounds absolutely wrecked when he asks, “Do you have any idea what you're doing to me by wrapping your hand around my throat?”

Stiles's smile then brakes free and is wry as his wit as he answers, “I've been working hard to find out how to woo you for months now, big guy. What do you think?”

And when Derek lunges to crush Stiles's mouth with his own, teasing Stiles' lips apart with his hot, hot tongue and nipping at them with blunted canines, Stiles reckons he knows what it must feel like to howl. 

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on ao3 HERE if you'd like to drop me a comment xp