#i promise they appreciate it more than you think

[basicallyjeankirschtein]

lost and found - toji x reader x sukuna

chapter 8

summary: gojo is an asshole. sukunas there for you, though (and toji)

* ooc, MDNI, mentioned dubcon (between gojo and reader) because reader was under the influence, toji being shameless(and a freak), mentioned masturbation and dacryphilia

not proofread

masterlist. prev. next

you were shocked gojo would even think about bringing that night up. even more so hurt, you guys promised to never bring that up again. and to imply that you were hooking up with sukuna? that was disgusting.

two months ago when you were beginning to introduce shoko and utahime together, shoko invited you two to a party. gojo clearly wanted to tag along, so the two of you reluctantly agreed (with shokos approval, of course).

at the party, shoko and utahime obviously hooked up. everyone could see the tension between them, and you were happy for them. but that left you and gojo alone, and after coercing you to drink much more than you wanted, the two of you ended up hooking up, as well. gojo must’ve been jealous utahime was getting more pussy than him.

you don’t remember the night at all. you were way too drunk, but gojo could strangely remember everything. you didn’t know how, considering he claimed to also be drunk.

you were tired of this disrespect. you were known to be a compliant, quiet girl. you always let others take advantage and disrespect you, but you were honestly sick of it. you’ve had so many bottled up emotions over the years of letting people walk all over you, and you think it’s finally time you stand up for yourself.

you did not hesitate to block gojo. yea, maybe he’ll tell everyone you guys had sex or whatever, but it’s not like he had evidence. you’ll just say it never happened and use your scary dog privileges (sukuna) to make him back off.

could you consider sukuna someone you could trust? he told you if gojo ever did anything, he’d be there to help. so you did consider him someone you could trust, despite how scary he was.

someone delivered your shower products just as sukuna finally reappeared.

“sorry,” sukuna said in his usual (and insanely attractive) gruff voice.

“i told toji off. he won’t bother you anymore.”

you didn’t want to know what sukuna did to make toji stop, so you just smiled at him.

“it’s okay, really.” you said, trying to sound as appreciative as possible. “could you help me with the shower? and i know you told me not to pay you back, but im going to anyway-“

sukuna grunted, his face going red once more. is it hot in here? if it was, you didn’t feel it.

“help… you in the shower?”

you tilted your head, confused why he was acting so fidgety. “if you don’t mind… i just need you to show me which direction to turn the knob to make it hot-“ you felt stupid for asking. he probably thought you were an idiot.

“oh.” he coughed, quickly pushing past you to the bathroom,

“how hot do you like it?” he asked, his face turned away from you (much to your dismay).

“i want to feel like im boiling alive.”

sukuna snorted at your response. it was cute, causing you to laugh as well.

“it’ll take a minute to heat up, just yell for me if you need anything.” he told you, still avoiding eye contact as she made his way past you and to the door.

before leaving, he called over his shoulder,

“and i told you not to worry about paying me back.”

with that, he closed the door behind him, and once again, you were alone. you made sure to lock the door behind him, not wanting toji to waltz in again like he owned the place (well, he did).

you hummed as you stripped yourself, setting your clothes down beside the towel sukuna left for you by the sink. you hated putting on dirty clothes, especially after a shower, but it’ll have to do.

almost as if toji could read your mind, he knocked on the bathroom door. this caused you to jump, a bit shocked by the sudden noise.

at least this time he knocked.

“did sukuna leave you any clothes?” he asked, his voice deep and gruff. they both had that same almost scary tone to their voice, a roughness to it, yet you could somehow easily tell the two apart.

“um, no, it’s alright.” you yelled from behind the door, covering yourself up despite the door being locked.

“need a pair?” he asked. you glanced at your used clothes, biting your lip as you pondered if you should take him up on his offer.

“if you don’t mind?” you finally responded. you got no response, only the sound of footsteps fading away.

you wondered if he was leaving to get you clothes, or if he just did that to mess with you. you scrunched your face up in confusion, this guy was weird.

you shrugged to yourself, not expecting him to come back after the fifth minute. he must’ve just been teasing, what a weirdo.

you sighed, moving the curtain to the side so you could step in the shower, and then, of course, toji knocked. tool him long enough.

“i’ve got you some clothes, doll. sorry i took a while, was trying to find some old clothes that might be smaller so they’d fit.”

you blinked, still shocked he came back. you stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around you as you quietly stepped towards the door.

as if noticing you discomfort and hesitation, toji spoke up, “i’ll leave them for you out here if you’re too shy to take them from me.”

you didn’t know if he was flirting, teasing, or mocking.

but, you knew he left because you could hear the sound of his footsteps fading away once more.

you were quick to open the bathroom door when you couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, a small pile of clothes (that were definitely too big) on the ground.

you practically slammed the door behind you after retrieving the clothes, terrified one of them would see you, whining when you noticed the size. this would definitely not fit. the boxers, at least.

it was nice of him to try to get smaller sizes for you, but god, he was huge. this wouldn’t fit anybody.

you decided that would be a problem for later you, and you should instead focus on showering before you used up of their hot water.

you stepped in, once again thankful for sukunas credit card buying you the shower supplies when your gaze turned to the mystical, definitely not safe, six in one bottle of shampoo and conditioner. what were the other four, you wondered…

as much as you’d love to keep these delicious strawberry scentened products, you thought you’d be doing them a favor by keeping them here. not only did sukuna pay for them, but they probably had some unknown chemicals creating a new disease in that six in one bottle. they’d have to suck up smelling like strawberries, you said to yourself as you made a mental note to throw out that bottle, maybe burn it. you’d be doing them a favor.

while you loved to take long showers, you were mindful of their water bill and only took as long as necessary (which was still long).

you stepped out, the bathroom was steamy, you weren’t visible in the mirror. you childishly drew a smiley face on the mirror, unable to resist with a giggle.

now, the problem.

the clothes.

you couldn’t even ask sukuna for a pair of his clothes, as he was just as big as toji. either way, they’d be falling off. but, it was better than used clothes, right?

you slipped the oversized t-shirt on, the material practically drowning you. it landed just above your mid thigh, making you look small in comparison.

while you disliked used clothes, you thought it would be best to throw your bra on under it. the neck of the shirt was so loose around you, if they were to look at you from a taller angle (which, they always are), you’d be flashing the poor men.

you however do NOT want to put back on your used panties. you didn’t know why, considering it was your pussy, but you disliked the idea of wearing the same pair of panties more than once without being washed. it was just one of those little things that grossed you out.

boxers were technically underwear, right? you thought to yourself, pulling the ridiculously large pair up. they barely clung to your hip, much to your dismay.

well, it would just be tonight. you thought, trying to wiggle them up higher, but they just kept falling down your waist and to your hips. at least the shirt covered you.

you stepped out of the bathroom, the overpowering scent of strawberries following you into the living room where both men sat on the couch.

“you smell nice,” sukuna spoke, his gaze immediately wandering to your toji’s clothes. you could see the faint envy in his eyes.

“thank you,” you said with a soft smile, “you can keep all that stuff. it smells nice and it’s way better than whatever that six in one concoction is..”

“are you saying that because you want us to keep it, or because you plan on coming here more often?”

the question sprung up by toji caught you off guard. once again, you couldn’t tell if he was flirting, teasing, or mocking. he always had that same somewhat malicious tone to his voice, but as you’ve come to know of sukuna, you think that’s just how he normally sounds- rather than being rude towards you.

“both…?” you decided to answer, a bit confused with both his question and your answer. you wouldn’t mind coming to see them more, they were nice, but you weren’t sure if toji meant it in a sexual way or not.

“then i suppose i can see you in my clothes often, too?”

oh, he was totally flirting.

it seems sukuna telling him off didn’t scare toji off for long, because here he was, shamelessly flirting with you infront of sukuna.

sukuna was definitely going to beat up toji.

sukuna, not wanting to scare you, decided to bring you to his room so he wouldn’t hear him and toji arguing. he made sure to let you know that you can sleep in his room, he’d just crash out on the couch. he said you were welcome to lock the door if you felt uncomfortable, god, he had too much trust in you for a guy you just met. you were going to protest, but he was quick to shut the door behind him. as usual.

you bit your lip, looking around his room. this was awkward, you thought. you didn’t want to be the reason the two were arguing.

you felt beyond guilty for even dragging sukuna into your own mess. you should’ve just dealt with gojo yourself, you shouldn’t have even accepted his offer to help.

was it sensitive of you to cry? maybe, but you were so pent up. you still haven’t properly accepted the fact that you just practically lost all your friends.

what you needed was a good cry, and thankfully for you, they were too busy arguing to hear your small, pitiful whimpers as you hugged yourself close, finally letting yourself go after having such a terrible day.

arguing over text when they were sitting right next to each other was a little funny. but when toji admitted he was also looking to an actual relationship with you, sukuna got angry. not even uraume could help them with this argument.

the two have never fought over a girl before, neither of them were the type to be in a committed relationship.

but now, it was different.

sukuna was sure toji was only claiming that because he hated when sukuna had something he didn’t.

the two argued that night, although both were mindful to keep it down so you wouldn’t hear. although, in the midst of their whisper-yelling, sukuna noticed the sound of your small sobs.

“shut up.” sukuna growled, glaring at toji as he turned to face his bedroom door. the sound of another sob alerted him that you were in fact crying.

“shit.” toji sighed, “you go check on her.”

sukuna was shocked toji was offering for him to do it, considering toji apparently liked you and everything. he gave toji a curt nod, making his way to his bedroom and knocking.

toji could hear sukuna say ‘can i come in?’ softly as he made his way to the bathroom, his gaze immediately shifting to your used clothes discarding on the sink.

toji heard the sound of sukunas door opening and closing, glancing over his shoulder every second to make sure neither of you were coming out.

he discreetly picked up your panties, a cute lacy pair with little pink bows on the side. he stuffed the cute thing in his pocket, swiftly returning to his room.

and that night, as sukuna comforted you and you cried about your misfortunate day, toji wrapped the pair of panties around his cock and thrusted to the sound of your cries.

he came fantasizing about how you would cry on his cock

sorry i got a little freaky there…

taglist

@starmapz @corvid007 @estella-novella @zezedoesshit @beautifulwitchcandy @jinxiewritings @b0nez9 @pixiedustaddictsblog @nightlysunn @nanamineedstherapy @lvingd3adg0rl @etsuniiru @paradisestarfishh @yanelis-world @str4wb3rryc4k333 @indiewritesxoxo @havkjhdecs @tenthmilo @yunho-leeknow @polarbvnny @gradmacoco @anonnieghost @tyunswifey @ex1acy @t4naiis @shizukaay0 @ivydoesit23 @animereaderinsertwriter @des-todoroki @slowlyshycomputer @imoutofpot @qardasngan @recispeices @moncher-ire @nakednostalgia @minzxec @drownedbytears

@seellove @melonmako

[alsofoundinpeas]

The View from Here

Summary: After a few chance encounters, Spencer finds himself developing a crush on Y/N. When he discovers she lives across from him, he spends countless hours admiring her from a distance, too nervous to make the first move. But when her package is mistakenly delivered to his door, it sparks the beginning of something more than just a crush and stolen glances through the window.

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. This could be considered dubcon (Spencer watches reader through her window but doesn't realize that she actually wants him to) so please be aware of that! Masturbation (both m and f). Use of a sex toy/penetrative use of a sex toy (f!receiving). Perv!Spencer (he means well truly, but alas he is a man) but also a hint of Perv!Reader (since she's intentionally doing things to grab his attention?? I'm not quite sure how to label that I'm sorry!!) Themes of voyeurism/exhibitionism (they both watch each other get off). Sub!Spencer (gotta squint for it now but it'll be more prevalent in part two). Both fluffy and smutty

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: This was started to fill a request for sub!Spencer but I got carried away forgive me LMAO but part two is almost complete and will be out soon :') I wrote this with season two Reid in mind before the writers (further) traumatized the absolute fuck out of him. This is a bit different from my usual writing, so I truly hope you guys enjoy it! As always, please let me know what you guys think and if you do enjoy it then please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 I truly do appreciate each and every single one of you and the feedback I get from you guys, I promise :') <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

The door slammed behind him as Spencer stormed into his apartment, tossing his satchel onto the couch with an angry groan. The stress of work had been wearing him down for weeks, but today had pushed him over the edge.

He’d just wrapped up the reports for their latest case and was on his way to deliver them to Hotch when an oblivious agent from the sex crimes unit collided with him. The force sent the cup of scalding coffee in her hands flying, drenching him and his case files. Instead of responding to her blubbered apologies, he had just stomped off to the bathroom to clean himself and calm down. Not only was it painful and humiliating, but it also destroyed all of his hard work. Work he'd now have to redo tomorrow.

Spencer exhaled sharply, fingers raking through his hair as he trudged toward the bedroom. All he wanted was to strip off his coffee-stained clothes and lose himself in the pages of his new book, anything to escape the tension of the day. Once inside, he moved to close the curtains but stopped short, his eyes landing on something unexpected just before he pulled them shut. His body went rigid, his heart racing as an unfamiliar warmth spread through him. He blinked, barely able to believe what he was seeing.

There, in the apartment directly across from his bedroom window, was Y/N.

Spencer had bumped into her a handful of times—their first meeting happening at the library just down the street when they'd both reached for the same book, then a few chance encounters after that at his favorite coffee shop, and the most recent interaction being one of the most mortifying moments of his life.

He’d stumbled over the sidewalk on his way to work, and he’d never wanted to disappear into the ground more than in that moment. But she had been there, her smile warm and gracious as she helped him gather the scattered books and case files that had spilled from his satchel, her kindness leaving him flustered and breathless. He’d been captivated by her the first time they met, but it was that moment that truly cemented his fascination with her.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat when he realized how wrong it was to be watching her through her bedroom window. But despite the guilt creeping in, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. It was as if he were under some kind of spell, captivated by the sight of her spinning around her room, carefree and radiant.

She wore a loose t-shirt that slipped off one shoulder and the tiniest pair of shorts he’d ever seen, completely at ease in her own space. She held something in her hand, singing into it like a microphone, completely lost in the music. Spencer didn’t realize when it happened, but a smile tugged at his lips, the stress of the day forgotten as he watched her. Her joy was so genuine and infectious that it pulled at him in ways he hadn’t expected, leaving him momentarily breathless.

His thoughts were interrupted when Y/N twirled around, singing as she faced her window. Spencer released a startled yelp, frantically yanking the curtains shut before she could catch him staring. His heart raced in his chest as he dared a quick peek through the fabric, anxious to see if she had noticed. Thankfully, she seemed oblivious, still happily dancing around her room, unaware of his presence.

"Oh my God," Spencer muttered, a wave of relief washing over him as he realized he hadn’t been caught staring like a complete weirdo at the woman he’d developed a crush on, despite having barely exchanged five sentences with her.

He was sure she didn't even remember his name. Why would she? All he'd managed to do during their brief interactions (besides busting his ass on the concrete the one time) was stutter out barely audible attempts at conversation before hastily retreating, his face scarlet and slacks uncomfortably tight.

Spencer had assumed Y/N lived nearby, but he hadn’t realized she was this close.

The day's weight melted away as Spencer peeled off his work clothes and slipped into his pajamas. He grabbed his book from the nightstand and sank back into his pillows, propping himself up against the headboard. But as he tried to focus on the pages, the image of Y/N dancing in her room kept invading his thoughts. His mind refused to settle, consumed with ideas of how he might run into her again now that he knew that not only was she just a building away—she was right across from him.

As the weeks passed, Spencer’s routine began to mirror Y/N’s more and more as he grew increasingly familiar with her schedule.

He began waking up earlier, noticing that she typically left her apartment an hour before he needed to head to work. With the extra time, Spencer found himself watching her with quiet awe each morning while she got ready, fascinated by how the soft light from the window seemed to illuminate her features as she did her hair and makeup. He also started visiting his favorite coffee shop daily instead of just once a week, hoping for a chance encounter before his workday began.

Night after night Spencer found his gaze inevitably drawn to her window, the soft glow of her bedroom lighting luring him in like a moth to a flame. He would trace her movements, pretending to read his book as it shielded his face, should he need to feign innocence. Something was alluring about her, even in the simplest moments—whether she was folding laundry or typing away on her computer, she was impossible to look away from.

Spencer couldn’t shake his curiosity about Y/N’s habit of leaving her curtains open.

Did she know he could see her? Was it intentional? Their apartments, situated at the ends of the buildings on the top floors, offered a level of privacy that made him feel certain (or at least, he desperately hoped) that no one else could be watching. Perhaps she’d noticed his frequent absences and simply stopped caring about keeping them shut.

The first case away from D.C. after Spencer learned Y/N was so close was more difficult than he expected. As he lay awake in his hotel room, his thoughts kept drifting to her, and the longing grew with each passing hour. He missed her. The only thing driving him was the need to finish the case quickly so he could return to the familiar comfort of his bed, where he could silently admire her from a distance.

The longer he thought about her, the tighter his boxers got. Spencer huffed out a pitiful whine, his hands clenching and unclenching beside himself as he tried to fight his shameful thoughts. This wasn't the first time he'd had these thoughts about her since meeting her, no. But it is the first time he's had the mental image of her undressing to go along with his fantasies.

The first time it happened, Spencer had all but thrown himself off his bed in his haste to close his curtains. His heart had pounded so hard his chest ached as he'd squeezed his eyes shut, willing the sight of her raising her shirt over her head and tossing it carelessly to the ground out of his mind. The second time, he took a little more time to slink over to his window and draw his curtains, his pulse racing at the sight of her bare back and the smallest glimpse of lacy panties as she began to shimmy out of her pants. The third time, he had crouched by his window, peeking out despite having pulled his curtains closed, and watched as she stripped completely before heading into her conjoined bathroom.

That was the first and (so far) only time he'd touched himself to what he'd seen.

The moment her bathroom door had clicked shut, Spencer sprang to his feet and hurried into his own bathroom, tearing his clothes off before stepping underneath the stream of hot water. One of his palms smacked the wall while his other hand frantically pumped his aching cock, whimpers and groans flowing freely from his lips as he imagined Y/N's hand around him instead of his own. It didn't take long for him to spill into his hand, and unfortunately, it took even less time for the guilt to slam into him at the realization of what he'd done.

After that night, Spencer had vowed to himself that he wouldn't let it happen again, knowing just how inherently wrong it was to jerk off to the sight of his neighbor (the woman he secretly admired) getting undressed when she had no idea she had even been watched.

But tonight, alone and frustrated in his hotel room, he was struggling to stick to that vow.

After another hour of tossing and turning in bed, Spencer released a resigned sigh. "Just this once," he murmured to himself, swallowing hard. He let his hand slip underneath the waistband of his boxers to push them down his thighs before spitting in his palm, hissing at the contact as his hand wrapped around his arousal. His eyes fluttered shut as his imagination began to take over, his hand slowly increasing its pace as images of Y/N and her lacy panties raced through his mind.

Spencer's mouth hung open as his thumb swiped over the swollen tip of his cock, a bead of precum oozing out and aiding his movements. He pictured her hovering above him, her gaze teasing as she stroked him faster and faster. He imagined how she'd sound as she talked him through it, her sweet voice luring him closer and closer to the edge. His hips bucked into his hand as his climax took hold of him, a choked moan of Y/N's name ripping its way from his throat as he painted his heaving chest with his cum.

With shaky hands, he cleaned himself, still dizzy from the aftershocks of his orgasm. After wiping himself off, he collapsed onto the bed, surrendering to the exhaustion that weighed him down. That night, his dreams were filled with Y/N—her radiant smile, her captivating voice, and the tenderness in her eyes whenever they met his. When he woke the next morning, breathless and murmuring her name, he realized he was in deep.

What Spencer didn’t know was that Y/N had known exactly what she was doing all along.

From the moment she reached for the same book as him—an act carefully planned to give her an excuse to talk to him—she’d been captivated by the stuttering genius. New to the neighborhood, she had noticed him a few times before finally gathering the courage to make her move. All it took was his flustered "Oh! I-I’m so sorry, here—" paired with furrowed brows and those wide, innocent eyes, and she was utterly entranced.

When Y/N discovered that Spencer lived right across from her, it felt like she’d hit the jackpot.

After their previous encounters, she’d quickly noticed the effect she had on him, and from that moment, she devised a plan to capture his attention. She began with subtle moves, leaving her curtains open one night so he’d realize she was the one across from him. She chose an outfit she was sure would draw his gaze, and when he nearly ripped his curtain rod off the wall, convinced she’d caught him looking, she knew she’d succeeded.

When Y/N noticed he was waking up earlier, watching her get ready with curious eyes over what he clearly thought was a cleverly placed book (which, in reality, did nothing to hide his attention), she decided it was time to raise the stakes.

The first time she undressed with the curtains open, she sank to her knees cackling at how quickly Spencer had scrambled out of bed to shut his own. The second time, she relished in how he hesitated before shutting his curtains so he could catch a glimpse of her lacy panties (ones she’d chosen with him in mind), but it still wasn't enough. By the third time, she was done teasing. She’d stripped down completely bare in her room, grinning smugly as she turned to walk into her bathroom because she’d seen Spencer not-so-subtly peeking through his curtains.

When Spencer still didn’t make a move after that, Y/N decided she was done waiting.

With him away on a case for the past three days, she saw the perfect opportunity to set her new plan in motion. After work one evening, she made her way to his building, quickly locating his apartment number—a detail that, to her surprise, matched hers. Smiling to herself, she placed her order and waited for him to return, ready for the next phase of her plan to unfold.

After nearly twelve grueling days away, Spencer finally returned late Friday night, aching for the comfort of home—and, more importantly, the sight of Y/N. Exhausted, he stumbled up the stairs to his apartment, eager to collapse into bed and wake up to her face rather than the grim case photos that had dominated his thoughts. His eyes half-lidded with fatigue, he fumbled with the key, unlocking the door before shoving it open.

“Oh! What the-“

Spencer cursed under his breath as he stumbled, his eyes dropping to the package at his feet. Frowning, he bent down slowly to inspect it. He hadn’t ordered anything, and there was no reason to expect anything from his mom. So... what was this?

The package was a light pink, medium-sized bag. Spencer nudged it onto its other side to check the sender, and his breath caught. It was addressed to Y/N, though she’d written the wrong number in the street address, causing it to end up at his door. He instantly recognized the name of the online boutique, having (unfortunately) heard Emily, JJ, and Penelope brazenly talk about ordering sex toys and such from this place.

What could Y/N have possibly ordered from there?

Spencer was wide awake now, his pulse quickening as he grabbed the package, slammed the door shut, and locked it. He carried it into the kitchen, turning on the light as he went. There was no way he’d open it—he knew that would be both illegal and downright creepy. But his curiosity got the best of him, and he couldn’t resist running his hands over the package, trying to guess what was inside.

His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully handled the package, giving it a slight squeeze. He could feel the soft outline of fabric inside a smaller plastic bag, his mind spinning with possibilities about what kind of set Y/N might have ordered. A small, involuntary gasp escaped him as his fingers brushed against something hard, separately wrapped from the lingerie. Was that… a dildo? Vibrator, maybe?

A quick glance at the clock told him it was far too late to return her package now. He swallowed, setting the bag down on the table with a mental note to take it to her first thing in the morning. He had the weekend off, and he knew she didn’t work weekends, so it wouldn't be a problem bringing it over. The only problem was going to be looking her in the eyes without turning into a complete mess.

Spencer rushed to his room, his excitement growing as he headed to bed, knowing he’d finally see Y/N tomorrow—in person, not just through her window.

The morning arrived quicker than he had expected, but for the first time, he was happy to hear his alarm. It was 9:30 a.m., giving him enough time to shower and get dressed before making the short walk to Y/N's apartment. More importantly, it would give her a chance to wake up before he just showed up at her door with her package in hand and rambling like a nervous mess.

Spencer’s nerves began to take over as he finished his shower and started getting dressed, his hands trembling as he pulled on his sweater. The last time they'd spoken was when he'd all but face-planted into concrete in front of her and then practically bolted off once she'd helped him gather his things (after a lengthy, awkward apology of course). What if she thought he was a freak?

Before he could talk himself out of it, Spencer took a deep breath, grabbed the package, summoned the last of his courage, and walked out the door.

A hesitant knock at her front door had Y/N grinning smugly as she rose from the couch and headed toward the door. She’d been waiting for this since she’d seen Spencer’s light come on late the night before. Her package was finally here.

The door opened to reveal a nervous Spencer, his eyes lighting up when they landed on her. He instinctively adjusted his glasses, his nose twitching as a small, shy smile appeared on his face.

"Spencer! Hey! What brings you by?" Y/N beamed, stepping aside to let him in. She had to suppress a giggle at her innocent act—she knew exactly why he was here.

Spencer blinked in surprise, both at her invitation and the fact that she remembered his name, pausing briefly before stepping into her apartment. His gaze wandered around, taking in the cozy surroundings with quiet admiration. When he realized she was waiting for him to speak, he cleared his throat, his face flushing as he held up the package.

"I, uh… I just wanted to return this," Spencer stammered, his words tripping over each other. "You had one number wrong on the street address, and, funny enough, we have the same apartment number, so it ended up at my door. I thought the least I could do was bring it over, especially after you helped me when I… well, fell." He offered a shy smile, his nerves still running rampant.

Y/N accepted the package with a smile, her fingers brushing lightly against his before he quickly pulled his hand back. "I could’ve sworn I got the address right this time," she said with a teasing laugh. "You’d think after a few months here I’d have it down by now, I'm sorry."

Spencer quickly shook his head, trying to ignore the rapid beating of his heart and the lingering sensation of her touch as he waved it off. "You don’t need to apologize, Y/N. It happens," he said sincerely, his fingers nervously twisting the ends of his sleeves now that the package was no longer in his hands. "Honestly, I wouldn’t mind bringing your mail by anytime. I just hate the thought of it sitting at my door or in my mailbox while I’m away," he chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he gave her a warm smile.

"Well, aren't you quite the gentleman?"

Y/N placed the package on her coffee table and then headed toward the kitchen, gesturing for Spencer to follow. He blushed profusely, swallowing hard as he willed away the dirty thoughts that were caused by that simple comment before trailing after her. She turned to look at him over her shoulder as she reached into her cabinet for two mugs, smirking to herself as she noticed him quickly avert his gaze from where it had landed on her ass.

Y/N placed the mugs on the counter, then turned to Spencer with a genuine smile. "Thanks for bringing it to me instead of just sending it back like most people would," she said. "How about a cup of coffee as a small token of my appreciation?"

Spencer nodded, thanking her as she fixed them both a cup. She raised an eyebrow, watching him add enough sugar to send a horse into cardiac arrest, but she kept quiet. Once they’d both prepared their cups to their liking, they headed back to the living room, Y/N sitting close enough that Spencer could feel the warmth of her body radiating toward him.

"So... did you take a peek inside of it?"

Spencer coughed violently, choking on the sip he’d just taken, his face turning a deep shade of scarlet as he frantically shook his head. Y/N’s expression shifted to concern as she patted his back, gently rubbing in soothing circles to help him catch his breath.

"What? N-no, I would never! That's literally illegal and so invasive—" Spencer sputtered, his eyes wide as he stared at her, clearly taken aback.

Y/N's brows furrowed briefly before she erupted into laughter, her head tilting back as she laughed loudly. Leaning in, she rested a hand on his thigh, her tone softening. "Spencer, sweetheart, I was just joking," she said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye.

He relaxed immediately, fighting the urge to lean into her touch as her hand lingered on his leg. "Thanks for that," Spencer said with a playful roll of his eyes. "Just what I needed this morning—choking on my drink and desperately hoping you knew the Heimlich maneuver." His cheeks were still flushed, a mix of embarrassment from her teasing and the aftereffects of his coughing fit.

After a pot of coffee and hours of conversation, Spencer left with a grin so wide his cheeks ached and Y/N’s number saved in his phone "just in case any more of her mail ended up at his door." He silently thanked whatever force had kept him from backing out earlier that day, grateful for the time he’d gotten to spend with her because of it. He’d found himself falling even harder for her, already yearning for her company despite having just left her place.

That night, as Spencer climbed into bed, something caught his eye from his window. He frowned in confusion as he noticed Y/N’s curtains were open even though they’d been closed just an hour ago. He’d assumed she’d already gone to bed, but apparently, he was mistaken.

He craned his neck, searching for her. She wasn’t in her room, as she usually was when the curtains were open. Where could she be? His jaw nearly hit the floor when she finally appeared, his eyes widening in awe at the sight of her.

Y/N walked into her room from the bathroom, wearing the most stunning lingerie set Spencer had ever seen. The lilac fabric complemented her skin in a way that had him almost drooling on himself, and the thin lace left little to the imagination (though he'd already seen what was underneath it once before and knew exactly how incredibly sexy her body was bare). The sight had his cock stiffening in his boxers, and his teeth dug into his lower lip in anticipation as he watched her.

Spencer nearly toppled out of bed as he watched her crouch down to grab her torn-open package, her hand reaching inside to pull out a light-blue rabbit vibrator. He knew he should get up, close the curtains, look away—do something. But he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Instead, he watched in an almost trance-like state as Y/N crawled onto her bed, swallowing hard as she settled back against her pillows. His hand wandered down his body, palming at his erection over his boxers as a whimper slipped from his lips while he watched her legs spread slowly open, propped up and giving him the perfect view of her clothed pussy. He felt overwhelming guilt, especially after the morning they'd shared, but he was powerless against the pull she had on him.

The close proximity of the buildings had always annoyed Spencer, the narrow space between them so tight he swore he could reach out and touch the other building if he tried. But now, he couldn’t have been more grateful. His bed was on the opposite side of the room that Y/N’s was, leaving her perfectly positioned for him to see her from his spot.

Y/N dragged the tip of the vibrator up and down her inner thigh, teasing herself as the fabric of the lace dampened with her arousal. Her head lolled back against the pillows, and her chest rose and fell with a sigh as she finally placed the vibrator against her clit through her panties. Her back arched at the touch, and her lips opened around a moan he desperately wanted to hear.

Spencer considered himself a sane man (for the most part). But he had never been more tempted in his life to leap through a window than he was right now. If it meant landing in her room so he could at least have the chance to beg for a taste of her, he'd happily do it.

His hand halted its movement, instead moving to his waistband so he could wriggle out of the constricting fabric. He kicked his boxers to the floor like they'd scorned him before his hand wrapped around his cock once more. He leaned forward, letting saliva dribble from his lips to coat himself before stroking himself slowly, teasing himself the way Y/N was right across from him in her room.

When Y/N dipped the vibrator into her panties, Spencer's breath hitched in his throat. He watched in rapt fascination as she paused her movements, her free hand shoving the lace down her thighs before she continued. With the fabric now out of the way, Y/N began to run the tip of the vibrator up and down her slit, collecting her arousal and spreading it around before she slowly eased the toy into herself.

An obscene moan ripped its way from Spencer's throat at the sight, and his hand sped up while his eyes struggled to stay open. He watched through hooded lids as she began to fuck herself in earnest now, her hips rocking into the toy and her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as she brought herself to the edge. Spencer whimpered as his body began to writhe against his sheets, sparks of pleasure zinging up and down his spine as he worked himself toward his climax.

All it took to send him over the edge was the sight of Y/N's legs thrashing as she came around the toy, a sight that left him both so aroused he couldn't breathe and so jealous of a toy he debated just how truly sane he considered himself to be after this. With a swipe of his thumb over his flushed head, Spencer came in spurts across his tummy, his hand pumping gently through the aftershocks until he was trembling and gasping Y/N's name like it was a mantra.

Once Spencer could finally open his eyes, he looked over at Y/N's window and saw she was no longer in bed, the soft light spilling from under her bathroom door the only sign of where she was. He rolled out of his bed to indulge in what was now becoming a routine walk of shame to his bathroom to clean himself off, his head spinning from what he'd just seen. He knew the shame of his actions would catch up with him in the morning, but for now, exhaustion and elation kept him from caring.

Spencer stumbled back into his room, half-asleep and ready to crash when his phone buzzed. Crawling into bed, he reached for it, curious about who would be contacting him at this hour. His heart stuttered in his chest, eyes widening in shock as he read the message on the screen.

Glad to see that you enjoyed the show, sweetheart. Next time, just come over. <3

Continued A/N's: AHHH I truly hope you guys enjoyed that! The next part gets FILTHYYYY and I can't wait to finish it hahahaaaa. Please let me know what you think because I'm thinking of doing more in the future that would be similar but of course I want to make content you guys will actually enjoy as well <3

REMINDER: I do not give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please just ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[pedropascallme]

Teach Me Something

Pairing: König x f!Reader

Summary: “But the thermal wear was tight, hugging your body and intensifying your silhouette. Maybe it could be considered sexy; maybe part of you hoped that König would think so.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) p in v sex, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), face fucking, forced proximity, size kink, mentions of overstimulation, use of honorifics (“Colonel”) in a sexual scenario, dom/sub dynamics, dom!König but he's pathetically needy, rough sex, dirty talk (a lot of it is in German), creampie, implication of cumplay, if I missed anything please let me know!!

AN: One bed trope CAUSE I CAN. Also I don't speak German, so if you do speak German and this sounds like absolute gibberish to you, I'm sorry in advance <3

What had seemed like a promising respite from such a drawn-out mission had swiftly proven to be less than liberating and more of a tease.

On the outside, the safehouse looked like a cabin out of a Christmas movie—something cheesy and re-watchable that you might put on around the holidays as background noise. Sturdy, light wood, powdered with snow.

It didn't look out of place in the forested locale, and anybody passing through would likely think it was a fixture of the area; a quaint vacation home to a little nuclear family.

But on the inside, it was absolutely barebones, and that was putting it lightly.

A raw sort of cold crept in through cracks, and the breeze inched over the thick layers of dust on every surface. It looked like you and König would be the first people to use it in months, if not years.

The chill was uncomfortable, and while the fireplace would've been a delightful way to quell the chatter of your teeth, you knew you couldn't use it—smoke from the chimney could alert anybody of your whereabouts, and the last thing you wanted right now was more practice in self-defense.

There was a small armchair pushed into one corner, and the green velvet faded on the back to reveal frayed weaving. One single bed was pushed to the far side of the tiny room, seemingly frozen in time, and you wondered if the blankets would even peel back from the mattress.

The only source of light was a standing lamp, and when you yanked the cord, it flickered piteously.

Instructions had been clear, and you knew you'd only be here for a night before you had to keep moving, but you couldn't help but huff at the state of the cabin when you had spent all day on the move.

König walked in behind you with a huff; he hated snow, and he abhorred waiting in a safehouse like a sitting duck all the more.

“Mein Gott…” He shook his head, shivering dramatically.

“It’s just a little snow, Colonel.”

You could’ve laughed at the display. You knew he was overreacting; he tended to, and a man of his size couldn’t get cold very easily.

“We will freeze before evacuation, maus.” He grumbled, closing the door with a grunt.

“You’ll live.” You cooed, smiling.

You wouldn't go as far as calling him your friend, but König was certainly a welcome presence despite his intimidating demeanor. He was clever, and an effective soldier; a generally amiable person when he was in the right mood.

And it helped that he was nice to look at.

You appreciated that he actually spoke during operations. Some people—especially superior officers, you'd found—preferred to stay stoic and silent, even at the best of times. But König was chatty, in his own right.

It was clear that he liked the sound of his own voice, but you didn't mind; he could be funny, a refreshing source of entertainment on and off the field. His thick accent and less than stellar pronunciations often led to even more amusement in conversations with him.

He never spoke about himself—you didn't even think König was his real name; you knew it probably wasn’t. But it was the name he responded to, and it was the one you mumbled when thoughts of him forced their way to the front of your mind as you pressed down just right on your clit.

You made your way to the derelict bed, unhooking your chest rig and tossing it onto the mattress. You half expected the frame to collapse, but it was a pleasant surprise when all you got was a quiet squeak from the bedsprings.

“What are you doing?” König watched intently as you lay your belongings out.

“Putting my stuff down.” You looked at him over your shoulder, quirking a brow.

“On the bed.” He was just voicing what he saw, but you knew he had ulterior motives.

“Didn’t see your name on it,” you turned to face him properly, eying him where he leaned against the door. “Take the chair.” You nodded at the armchair in the opposite corner of the room.

König scoffed softly.

“You are joking?”

“Or you could take the floor,” you couldn’t help but smile; you enjoyed riling him up. “Plenty of room for you to stretch out.”

He shook his head, and you watched his eyes narrow behind the mask.

“No. You are smaller than me. You sleep in the chair; I have the bed.” He said it with a sense of finality, reminding you that he was, in fact, in charge.

“That’s not fair.” You argued, crossing your arms.

“You wanted me to sleep on the floor,” he pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer to you, “I am being kind.”

“You’re not,” you scowled, “Not at all gentlemanly, either.”

He chuckled, tilting his head to the side.

“If you will make such a fuss, we will sleep in the bed together, Kleine.”

“Seriously?” You balked at his words, caught off guard.

“Is it a bad idea?” It was almost as if he was goading you; toeing the line to see if you’d agree or if you’d back down.

It wasn’t uncharacteristic of him; he enjoyed teasing you as much as you enjoyed teasing him. He liked to see how hard he could push you when you were deployed together. It brought him a sort of contentment to see you squirm.

It was innocent, as far as you were concerned, and he knew he had the power to do it.

“No…” you decided not to bow to his prodding. “I just—are we allowed to…I mean, I’m fine with it, if you’re fine with it.”

You practically scoffed, uncrossing your arms and gesturing vaguely.

“I just…yeah. No—yeah, that’s a—…let’s just share,” you nodded, trying to reason aloud as you made your decision. “Better for…body heat.”

He nodded, and you were certain he was smiling beneath his mask.

You grabbed your chest rig from the bed and tossed it onto the armchair. Slowly, you began peeling off your kit. The thermal under layer of your uniform was perfect for sleep, and you weren’t about to crawl into bed with the military-grade fabric still on.

But the thermal wear was tight, hugging your body and intensifying your silhouette. Maybe it could be considered sexy; maybe part of you hoped that König would think so.

You shoved your clothes onto the chair with your chest rig, turning back to face the bed.

König had already prepared himself for bed, and you were nearly startled when you looked up to see his mask gone.

It was a rarity; he wore it 90% of the time, probably more as an intimidation tactic, but you also assumed it was a comfort thing.

The more shocking revelation was that he’d stripped down completely, forgoing even the thermals, as he sat on the edge of the bed in just his boxers.

“Not gonna get cold?” You quirked a brow, not at all unsatisfied by the unobstructed view of his form, but still a bit taken aback.

“It is nice in here,” he sighed, rolling his shoulders before rubbing a hand over his chest. “And your body will be warm.”

His phrasing made you roll your eyes, but you smiled just a little.

“Alright, Colonel,” you shook your head, “Sure.”

You ambled over to the bed, pulling the blanket back and frowning when you realized how thin the material was. But you situated yourself beneath it all the same, lying on your side and eager to curl up and allow yourself to get some rest.

When König maneuvered himself beneath the blanket next to you, you threw a look over your shoulder at him.

“No funny shit,” you glared, though it was playful, “Hands to yourself, or I’ll cut them off.”

König laughed lightly, folding his arms over his chest.

“I will not touch you, Kleine.” He was amused by your threat, but humored you.

“Good answer.” You settled back onto your side.

You found yourself unable to relax.

The room hadn’t warmed up in the short time you’d been inside, and you couldn’t seem to garner the warmth to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. The thermal clothing wasn’t doing much, and the wind howling against the wood of the cabin put you on edge.  

If you were less proud, you might have pushed yourself up against König in search of warmth and comfort. Instead, you let yourself continue to shiver, huffing softly.

But your exasperated sigh turned into more of a stunned gasp when you felt König reach out for you, tugging you into him until your back pressed against his chest.

“Said hands to yourself.” You mumbled, though the relief was immediate. The warmth of his body permeated the thermal shirt you donned and sept into your skin.

“Sh,” he splayed his hand against your stomach. “Dir ist kalt.”

“I’m not cold. I’m…” You tried to think of a valid argument, “I’m not cold.”

He grunted, a wordless response of disbelief.

The room fell quiet again, and you stayed pressed against his body. Part of you was tempted to grab his hand, lace your fingers with his and lean into the situation. But you stayed still and just appreciated the position you’d been pulled into.

“You understand me often now,” König’s voice broke through the silence. “You did not know German like this before.”

“Hard not to pick up on bits and pieces,” you were whispering, but you weren’t sure why. “Most of what you say over comms is German.”

“You are learning, maus,” he seemed pleased, his thumb brushing over your stomach. “Tell me.”

“I know that maus means mouse,” your voice picked up a bit, eager to share the small amount of German you had learned. “Was war das means what was that. Schnell is quickly, ich weiß is I know.”

You paused, thinking for a moment before you continued.

“Verdammt is damn it, and geh zum Teufel means go to hell. I think.”

He let out a small laugh behind you, and you felt his chest move against your back.

“Gut.” Though you couldn’t see it, you could hear the motion of his head against the pillow as he nodded.

You found the confidence to turn over, adjusting yourself enough to face him while staying pressed to his chest.

“Will you teach me more?” You asked, sincerely curious about the other phrases you'd heard him use.

He smiled. “What do you want to know, maus?”

“Will you…” you smirked, thinking, “Will you teach me more curses?”

“Girl after my heart,” he chuckled, running his hand over your back in an oddly docile gesture. “Ja, I will show you.”

He thought for a moment, squinting into the dark of the room as he considered where to begin.

“Em…to call someone’s mother a whore: huresohn.”

“Starting strong.” You laughed, chancing a glance at him.

“There are no weak curses in German.” He smiled down at you. “Scheiße is shit.”

“I know that one.” You yawned, placing an open palm on his chest.

“Fine, then, you are so proud of your skill; Weißt du was Schlampe ist?” He quirked a brow at you, smug.

“You’re going too fast—” you complained, pushing against his chest. “Do I know what what is?”

“Keep up, Kleine.”

“Kleine means small.”

“No—” He furrowed his brow, “Ja, it does, but also ‘little one.’”

You paused, looking up at him again.

“Little one?” You asked, echoing his words.

“Ja.” He nodded, sighing softly.

“Colonel, when you say things like that, I’m almost convinced you have a soft spot for me.” You smiled, putting your other hand on his chest and playfully pushing against him a bit harder.

“Vielleicht,” he moved to place his free hand over one of yours as you pushed him. “Ja.”

There was a pause, both of you taking a moment to stew in the silence and the feeling of each other.

“König…” You were whispering again, staring at how his hand dwarfed your own.

He looked down at you expectantly.

“I have—…I want to know one more thing.” You shuffled up the bed slightly, trying to position yourself to match his eyeline.

“Ok,” he nodded, now moving his hand to toy with a loose strand of your hair. “What?”

“How do you say…”

You could feel yourself shiver, but it had nothing to do with the cold, which you had long forgotten. You worried about overstepping, about saying the wrong thing and making the situation awkward and uncomfortable.

“How do you ask someone to—to kiss you?” You asked anyway.

You saw a flash of something in his eyes.

He paused, tucking your hair behind your ear and letting his fingers trace down your jawline until he could hook a finger under your chin.

“Küss mich.” He scanned your features, watching for a response.

“Küss mich…” You stared back at him, your lips parted.

You felt dazed, but it wasn’t unwelcome; there was a heat in your lower stomach, and it grew with every twitch of his fingers against your skin and with every word he spoke.

“Braves Mädchen.” His words were muttered as he leaned into you, capturing your lips with his and kissing you.

You squeaked, clawing at his chest before slowly reaching around him to pull him closer by the nape of his neck. You could feel his pulse, the quick thrum of his heart pushing against his skin almost as intensely as your own.

The kiss was covetous. He wasted no time pushing his tongue into your mouth, eager to taste every part of you; and you were eager to let him. You cupped the back of his head, pulling him into you, and he perched his hands on your waist, manipulating your body slowly until you were on top of him.

The position was awkward, but you could hardly notice when you were so focused on him. His touch was so warm, and you felt yourself melting beneath his palms; your skin was on fire, but it was a happily received blaze.

The chill of the room that had crept into your bones was long gone, replaced by the heat of his grip on your body.

You trailed your hands over him, taking in the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips. He was so large, muscular in a comforting way, and you whimpered softly against his lips when he gave your hip a squeeze.

“So long,” König mumbled against your jaw, “Have waited so long.”

“For this?” You breathed, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the way his hands trailed over you.

“For you.” He growled, pressing kisses to your throat.

You giggled at the feeling, his lips tickling your pulse point, but he didn’t stop—if anything, it just spurred him on.

“Liebling,” he spoke against the sensitive skin of your neck, “Meine Kleine. Do you know how you tease?”

“I d—I don’t tease, Colonel.” You moaned when he sucked a bruise into your neck.

“You are doing it now,” he tsked, “Telling me no hands—if that is what you want, shall I stop, ja?”

“No...” You whined; the thought of him removing himself from you now was deeply upsetting.

König huffed a laugh against your throat, straightening back up to meet your gaze again.

“Always teasing,” he reiterated as he brought his hand to your face, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. “In these silly clothes when I invite you to bed with me.”

“Off—” Your plea came out rushed and unfinished, “Take them off, then.”

He laughed louder now, pleased by your zeal.

“Greedy maus,” he ran his thumb over your cheek, “Move, then—I will help.”

You scrambled to push yourself off of him, sitting up and waiting to see what he’d do—whether you’d be faced with further instructions, or if he’d simply take the opportunity to strip you as you’d asked him to.

He sat up with you, studying you as you clamored to kneel next to him on the mattress.

“Come.” He beckoned you, and you shuffled forward until your face was mere inches from his.

He caressed your sides, and despite the gentle, chaste nature of the touch, you whimpered softly. König curled his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head slowly—almost teasingly, as he exposed your top half.

It wasn’t out of any urge to taunt you, he was just so thrilled to be able to see you bare yourself to him; to scan every inch of your flesh.

He tossed the shirt to the side, and you made a mental note to grab it later so you didn’t leave without it.

“Back,” he instructed, pressing on your shoulder to encourage you to lie down, and you obliged happily. “Raise your hips, Kleine.”

You pushed yourself off the mattress awkwardly, trying to give him the space he needed to strip you of the final bits of fabric.

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your thermals, huffing impatiently when he realized that you had underwear on beneath the thermal layer. But he chuckled as he peeled both articles of clothing down your legs, and you let out a quiet gasp as the cool air of the room hit your core.

“So eager,” he tutted, tossing your bottoms in the same direction he’d thrown your top. “Just a touch. You are so easy to please.”

“Shut up…” You muttered, turning your head to the side to hide your satisfaction.

He grunted, bringing his hand to your face and squeezing your cheeks as he moved your head to look up at him again.

“Cruel girl—this is no way to talk to your Colonel.” The cold blue of his eyes somehow seemed to turn red hot; demanding and predatory.

“König—” you stuttered, “Colonel. Please.”

“What would you like, Kleine?” He kept his hand on your face, enjoying the way his palm swallowed you. “Be honest.”

“Fuck me,” you breathed, “Want you to fuck me.”

Upon hearing your words, he laughed, removing his hand from your face and trailing it over your exposed breasts.

“Fuck you? Already?” He kneaded the plush flesh of your chest. “We will be here all night, meine Liebe—I want to enjoy you.”

“Now you’re teasing.” You whined, arching your body into his touch.

“No,” he shook his head with a smirk, his eyes never leaving your chest as he groped you. “I will make you feel nice.”

With that, he leaned over you. His tongue followed a messy trail over your tits; circling your nipples before pressing his lips against the pillowy skin to suck deep marks into you. He treated it like a game—a meal, even, as he nipped at you, learning and memorizing what would make you squirm beneath him.

When he grazed his teeth over your nipple, you let out a sharp moan, reaching down to press his face further into your chest.

“No hands.” He mumbled into your skin, and you sighed dreamily.

“Think we’re past that…” You let your other hand wander over his shoulder blade.

“We are not,” he pushed himself off of you, forcing your hands away as he rose. He found enough balance to grab both your wrists, pressing them into the pillow on either side of your head. “You must listen when I say these things, Kleine.”

You whimpered, nodding an affirmative.

“Do you understand?” He looked down at you, “You will tell me. Speak.”

“Yes,” you nodded again, swallowing. “I understand, Colonel.”

He let go of your wrists, and his chest heaved; with lust or pride, you couldn’t tell, but it was likely a combination of both.

As he pushed himself down the bed, he couldn’t seem to separate himself from your body; pressing his face, his lips, into your skin; murmuring against you as if he wanted your bones to hear the filth that fell from his mouth.

“Such a pretty girl,” he mouthed just beneath your navel, “Finally behaved.” 

You bucked your hips, trying to encourage him to bring his mouth down to where you needed it most. But he bypassed your cunt completely, situating himself between your legs and biting at your thighs, only eyeing your core.

“Maus…” He sighed the petname, pressing kisses to your inner thigh before finally releasing his grasp on your leg. “So wet from kisses?”

He leaned forward, as if to drown his senses in you; your scent and your image, he wanted to appreciate it fully.

“Pathetic, a bit, mm?” He swiped a finger through your folds, collecting your slick, and you whimpered. “So desperate, to drip like this…”

“König,” you were whispering, afraid to warp the charged atmosphere. “You can do anything; just do something.”

He laughed at that, basking in the pleas you directed towards him as he removed his hand from your cunt and pressed a kiss to your clit.

“Schlampe.”

He buried his face against you, pushing his tongue into your entrance and lapping up the slick that dripped from your core.

You moaned, raising your hips off the mattress in an effort to find even more friction. König pressed down on your hips, effectively pinning you to the bed; holding you captive with his grasp and the movement of his mouth.

“Sweet engel,” he moaned against your cunt, “You taste like heaven, Kleine.”

“Fuck—” His actions were one thing, but his words hit you hard; it felt like forever since you’d been with someone who showed so much enthusiasm.

His gruff moans as he lapped you up only served to push you further towards the precipice of total pleasure, and you could feel yourself teetering over the edge already.

“You are so excited, Liebling,” König groaned bringing a hand up to press two thick fingers against your entrance. “Wetting my face this way, but still too tight for my hand.”

He began to nudge your hole, letting his fingers circle your entrance before sinking into you. He went as far as the first knuckle before stopping.

“Scheiße,” he cursed as he watched your cunt struggle around his fingers, “How will you take my cock, Kleine?”

You whimpered at the way his fingers stretched you; penetrating you shallowly, but enough to make you feel so full.

“You can—I’ll—I can take it,” you stammered, “Please, Colonel, make me take it.”

“Bitte…” König’s moan neared a whimper, pushing his fingers deeper into you. He bucked his hips against the mattress in response to your words and the filthy squelch of your cunt around his hand. “Whatever it is you want, maus, I will do for you.”

“More,” you begged softly, “Want more.”

He smirked, more to himself than to you, and continued his ministrations.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, flicking his tongue over you as he fucked you with his fingers. Whenever he heard you let out a soft gasp, he increased his pace.

“Probably one more can fit,” he spoke against your pubic mound, his lips finding purchase on your body again and exploring more of you with his tongue as he threatened your entrance with another finger. “Ja, Kleine?”

“Yes—another one.” You were so hot, maybe even sweating as he worked you open, but the flush of your skin did nothing to discourage you from whimpering for his hand. 

He pushed a third finger into you, and the stretch made your body contort; your back arched and your legs tensed. The pads of his fingers danced over your most delicate spot as he thrust them in and out of you.

The pressure in your abdomen was immense, but damn, if it didn’t feel amazing.

And he was thrilled by you. Every sound you made and every clench of your walls around him made König feel lightheaded, grinding himself down against the bed just for a moment of relief; imagining the pure bliss that would be getting to bury himself inside of you.

He could feel his boxers growing damp, the tip of his cock crying for you, just as you cried out for him.

“Little thing, so tight,” he was moaning, his sounds almost as eager as your own as he lay his head on your thigh to watch his fingers work you open. “Verdammt, Schatz—bitte, bitte, cum on my hand like this.”

He dipped his head down to lick the slick that coated his fingers, gradually moving his tongue so that it dragged over his fingers and up to your clit. He sucked the bud between his lips, and you white-knuckled the pillow beneath your head with both hands, the pleasure overwhelming to the point that it was almost too much.

You came with a cry of his name, just as you always did; but this time he was there with you to hear it; this time he was the one manipulating you to feel the rush of ecstasy.

“Hübsche Hure…” König continued to push his fingers in and out of you, determined to push you to the brink and see just how much you could take as your legs trembled from the overstimulation. “So good for your Colonel. So good to let me prepare you.”

You keened under his praise, your eyelids heavy. When he removed his fingers from you, you regained your senses as the pleasure that had wound itself so tightly around your muscles began to dissipate, leaving you in a hazy state of fucked-out bliss and feeling empty.

You reached down to brush your knuckles over his cheek, and he closed his eyes when your hand made contact with him, still resting on your thigh.

“You will look so pretty wrapped around me, Liebling.” He murmured, turning his face and kissing your hand.

He’d seemed to have forgotten about his previous request that you keep your hands to yourself—that, or he was too drunk off of you to care, content with the domestic gesture of your fingers trailing over his skin.

“Show me,” you whispered, the dull ache his fingers had left in your core swelled at his words, and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. “I want more.”

“Eine Schlampe tut es immer,” he muttered. He moved to lick up your thigh, savoring the slick that had gathered there to make your skin shiny and syrupy. “You will stay like that.”

You nodded, watching him perch himself on the edge of the bed before he stood.

You almost felt like you should avert your gaze; he fiddled with the waistband of his boxers, and you noticed the slick spot on the fabric that highlighted his need for you. It flooded you with a new wave of arousal—to want and to be wanted was such a tremendous thing.

But it was when he removed his boxers that you felt your breath hitch, eyes widening slightly in an almost comic way before you turned your head to stare up at the ceiling.

You had figured his mentions of readying you were just rooted in König being typically boastful. But the image of his cock, hard and weeping and big, as it sprung free from the confines of his boxers made you recognize that his preparatory measures were warranted.

Your mouth watered, but you maintained your gaze on the ceiling.

“Look,” König approached the edge of the bed, “Look at me, Kleine.”

You didn’t really need to be told twice, shifting onto your side to admire him; big might’ve been an understatement, and your lips parted as you lay still, just staring.

“Touch.” The harshness in his voice as he delivered the command was undercut by the tender way he reached for your hand and guided it to his cock.

You wrapped your fingers around the base, and König let out a short sound of approval. It made you feel powerful, to have a man like him by the cock, to be forcing such sweet noises up from his chest.

But mostly it just made you want even more.

“Bitte,” he bucked his hips leisurely into your hand, your dry palm creating the friction he’d been chasing, “Your mouth, engel. Taste.”

You hummed at his request, leaning forward to lick circles over the head of his cock. The sound that came from his throat was choked, stifled as best he could manage when you took the tip beyond your lips and hollowed your cheeks.

“Oh—Gott,” he tilted his head back, eyes closing as he relished the way you wrapped your lips around him. “Perfekter kleiner mund.”

You couldn’t tell exactly what he was saying, but you knew enough to know that he liked what you were doing, and it spurred you on.

You leaned further into him, trying your best to take more of him into your mouth and down your throat. A bit less than halfway down his shaft, you found yourself gagging; spluttering around him as you jerked the rest of his length in your hand. He grunted out a curse, bringing a hand to your hair and tugging gently at your roots.

“Very nice, maus,” he groaned when you glanced up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock, choking on him. “Take it deeper.”

You lifted yourself off of him, drooling.

“Too much…” You croaked out, “Too—too big. I can’t.”

It felt so conformist to say; expected, like an actress in a porno, faking it for the camera. And despite the fact that the words that left your mouth seemed almost cringeworthy, what you said was true: there was no way you'd be able to manage taking all of him.

But you loved a challenge.

“I was not asking,” he tsked, tightening his grip on your hair and earning a moan that traveled from your mouth in a breathy puff. “Put your mouth back. I will help.”

You whimpered, rubbing your thighs together as you lowered yourself back onto his cock and wrapped your lips around him. His authoritative nature on the field was always more attractive than it should’ve been, but this took the cake.

König fucked into your mouth like it was a toy, guiding you up and down over his cock, using your hair like a handle as he pulled you over his length.

You choked, spit and tears mingling on your face and dripping down his length, and he seemed to enjoy the sight as much as you enjoyed the feeling; his moans grew louder, the image of you helpless under his grasp getting him off in equal measure as the feeling of your mouth on his stiff cock.

He pulled you off abruptly, removing his grip from your hair and trailing his hand from behind your head to perch on your cheek. He wiped stray tears from your face with his thumb.

“I will cum if we keep playing this way, Kleine,” he panted, “And I would rather fill your cunt.”

You moaned wantonly at his words alone; he spoke so plainly, clear about his intentions, and you whimpered at the notion of having him spill inside of you.

“Fuck me, then,” you sighed, using the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. You took on a playful cadence, “Don’t keep me waiting, König.”

“Not waiting,” he shook his head, grabbing you by the chin and forcing your eyes on him. “Preparing.”

“Show me what you were preparing me for, Colonel.” You smirked, watching his face contort in arousal and a smug sense of assuredness.

He didn’t hesitate to climb onto the bed and hover over you, pressing a kiss to your chest just above your breasts before settling between your legs.

“You are impatient,” he muttered, “I only wanted to make you comfortable, Liebling.”

He held your hip in a vice grip, tugging you down the bed a bit to line himself up with you.

“No complaints when you are given what you have begged for.” He looked down at you, under obvious strain from his desire; his eyes had grown shadowy to the point of turning gray in the dim light of the room.

He ran his cockhead through your folds, grunting at the feeling of your slick mingling with the spit you had left coating his cock. He pushed his hips further, breaching your entrance with a groan.

Your hips moved on their own accord, rising to meet him, as you mewled.

“Ja, gut,” he moaned, “You need more—you need it all.” König kept his eyes glued on your cunt, watching his cock disappear into you.

He was growing impatient, sinking into you slowly had him gritting his teeth and breathing hard. You, too, felt restless at the pace; you could feel the stretch so viscerally, the pressure of his cock against your walls, the pain that faded into pleasure, and you craved more—you craved everything he had to give you. All of it.

“König,” you whined beneath him, squirming slightly, “Give it to me—I won’t break.”

“And if I want you to?” He queried, his voice low and wolfish.

You whimpered. It wasn’t often you felt vulnerable; guns strapped to your hip and a legion of other soldiers behind you. But now you felt exposed, prey waiting for the final act, and you relished in it.

“Do it.” You begged, waiting to see what he would do with the permission you gave him.

You didn’t have to wait long; König thrust his hips forward until they pressed against your own. He bottomed out with a whine, knocking the air from your lungs.

You cried out, full and stretched in such a foreign way. But you wrapped your legs around his hips as you writhed beneath him, locked in a battle with your pleasure.

“So tight,” he was panting, whimpering; six-foot-ten and easily 200 pounds heavier than you, and all it took for König to completely lose his edge was the feeling of your cunt wrapped so deliciously around him. “You—Scheiße, you are swollen with me.”

He traced a hand over your stomach, pressing against the bulge his cock produced, and you moaned at the sinful gesture.

He was just as overcome with lust, entranced by the image of your body squeezing around him, opening for him like a toy. He seemed so content to simply look and feel for a moment, but you grew impatient.

“König…” You pressed your heel against his back, trying to express your urgent need for him to move, to speak—to do anything that would let the pleasure spring free from the coil that had begun to tighten itself so harshly in your abdomen.

He swallowed, nodding in a manner that made it seem as though your words had brought him back down to earth. He pulled out of you slowly, hesitant to leave the warmth of your cunt, and you whimpered; you could feel every vein, and the round head of his cock dragged against your walls to further overstimulate your core. You bucked your hips, chasing the feeling.

“Oh, meine Liebling,” he shuddered, “Du willst es verdammt nochmal, eh?” He rumbled, drawing his hips back until the tip of his cock just barely penetrated you. “I will give it to you, Kleine.”

He pushed himself back into you just as harshly as he had the first time, and again you screamed for him, grabbing at his forearms and clawing at his skin in an attempt to ground yourself before the bliss became too much for you to handle.

“You want to break?” He muttered in your ear, his labored breaths fanning the side of your face, “Then you will break.”

“It—oh my god, König, please—” You pushed your head back against the pillows, angling your body closer to his to allow him free reign over you. “Fuck, it’s so much—so fucking—please.”

“Was willst du, Kleine?” He cooed, licking over of your collar bone, “You would like more?”

“M—more,” you managed, “Yes. More.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning at your stammered pleas, and he was more than willing to deliver.

He straightened up, grabbing you by the hips and practically hauling your bottom half up like you were a ragdoll; you whined, loosening your legs around his waist as he was clearly able to support you on his own.

He fucked into you like a toy, like your body was for him and him alone to use in whatever manner pleased him, and you relished in the control he exhibited over you.

“Tiefer,” he grit his teeth as he forced himself into you roughly, “You are easy to use this way, schlampe—so beautiful. Take all of my cock, engel, be good for your Colonel.”

You couldn’t form a coherent thought, let alone a verbal reply. You stared up at him with lust-blown eyes, expressing your feelings through heady moans as he pushed the air from you.

You couldn’t help the way your hand meandered from its spot beside your head, leaving its home in the fabric of the pillow to trail down your body so that you could brush your fingers over your clit while König ravished you. You just needed that little push, the outer stimulation to match what he offered you, so that you could free-fall into satisfaction.

And perhaps he’d changed his mind about disallowing you to touch—he hadn’t disputed the way you’d grabbed at his arms when he’d sunk into you. Besides, he seemed too focused on your cunt to worry about any previous demands. Either way, there was only one sure-fire method to find out.

But König wasn’t pleased by the initiative you took. He dropped you, pressing one hand roughly against your hip bone to keep you still as his other hand flew to your wrist.

You yelped at the suddenness, but you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t been the reaction you’d wanted.

He stared, almost in shock, at your hand, your fingers still grazing your clit, before practically throwing your arm back to your side and leaning over you, looming.

“No hands,” he pressed his body against yours, engulfing you, “You have not listened, Kleine.” He thrust shallowly into you, not able to stop himself from appreciating the way you felt on his cock despite his urgency in chastising you.

“I thought—” you searched for an excuse, “Thought you wouldn’t mind.”

He chuckled lowly, glaring in a manner that seemed to border on tender.

“I think you are lying,” he accused, “I think you enjoy being treated like this. You are testing me, schlampe.”

You let out a shaky, needy breath in response to his assertion.

“I’m sorry, Colonel.” You mewled, moving to clasp your hands behind your head in an attempt to show him you had seen the error of your ways.

“I do not want your apology,” he grunted, his thrusts increasing in pace suddenly as he planted his hands on either side of you. “I want your pleasure.” He smiled down at you, leering at the way your face contorted in tandem with the way your body contorted to allow the intrusion of his cock. “I would like to feel it.”

He moved to rest on one forearm above you, his free arm snaking between your bodies to replace your hand with his own on your clit.

His fingers were so much bigger than yours, and he was somewhat clumsy as he rubbed circles over you. But the pressure was exquisite all the same, and he pulled new sounds from you that rose from your chest in appreciation of the friction he was granting you.

“Bitte,” he had once again begun speaking through whines, “Bitte, meine Liebe, let me feel how your cunt squeezes. Wet me with your cum—bitte.”

His broken requests, intercut with guttural grunts and whimpered groans, flooded you with heat. He pressed down on your clit right as he pushed his cock deep into you, lifting his hips upward to create an angle that allowed him to press against your most delicate spot.

You tried to stifle the sound that flew from your throat, and found yourself screaming silently into the room as you came.

“O—oh, bitte,” König’s hips stuttered against you, his head falling back as he reeled from the impact your orgasm had on him. “Ja, I—oh, bitte, bitte—”

He let himself fall forward, crushing you under his frame—though the weight of his body was comforting as you trembled through the aftershocks of your high. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, moaning wantonly as he approached his own release.

“Engel, meine Kleine—perfektes Mädchen,” he was only partially coherent as he licked a stripe up your throat. “I—I will fill you, ja? Bitte, would you let me fill you this way?”

“Please, König,” you breathed, overjoyed by the promise of being able to feel his cum leak from your spent cunt. “Cum in me, I want it—I want it, Colonel, please.”

He growled, reaching his tipping point upon hearing your words, beautiful sounds of approval falling from your lips as you expressed your eagerness at the prospect of him finishing inside your perfect cunt.

He came with a loud moan, guttural and sourced from his chest; his hips stuttered erratically against you as he let your cunt milk him.

You whimpered beneath him, accepting the warmth of his spend as it painted your walls.

He stayed on top of you, both of you taking a moment to recalibrate and catch your breath. When your pulse settled, you took the chance and wrapped an arm around him, trailing your fingers in vague patterns over his shoulder blade.

“König,” you whispered, voice hoarse, “You’re a great Colonel, but you’re a fantastic lay.”

 He rested his chin on your chest, staring up at you. He seemed to translate your words at a much slower speed than he normally would.

He shot you a smug look when it finally clicked.

“I am glad I meet your standards,” he sighed, pressing his cheek into your skin and letting the sweat that beaded over you cool his face. “Are you tired, maus?”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t have lied even if you wanted to; your muscles felt loose, and your body sunk into the suddenly cozy mattress.

“Sleep.” He shuffled down your body, maneuvering one of your legs over his shoulders and slotting his face between your thighs.

“What are you doing?” You smiled down at him, and he looked back at you with bright, eager eyes.

“I would like to clean the mess I made.” He replied in a tone that made it seem as though his plan should have been obvious to you.

You hummed, squeezing his head lightly with your thighs.

“Mm...so the mask is really just a muzzle, hm?” You mused.

“We will be here all night,” König smiled, nipping at your thigh as he reiterated his earlier words. “I want to enjoy you.”

☆Like my work? Buy me a ko-fi :)☆

[womenwoso]

Thank you so much for the kind words on my last fic. It's really appreciated. Thank you to @helen-with-an-a for being amazing and proofreading. Hope you enjoy and requests are open. Please send in ideas.

Hard questions

Mapí León was perched on the edge of the sofa, her eyes showing her exhaustion after a long day of practice. Fresh from a shower, her damp hair was wrapped in a towel when Clara burst into the room, her little face beaming with excitement.

“Mamí!” Clara exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “I saw a picture of you in your Spain jersey at school today! You looked so happy, like me when I play football with you and all my tias. When do I get to play with them again? Why don’t you play for Spain anymore, do you not love Spain?

Mapí paused, Clara was in the stage of asking questions constantly, but this question hung in the air like a heavy cloud. She had anticipated this moment. Clara was getting old enough to ask tough questions—ones that carried a lot of history, choices, and feelings that Mapí had kept to herself but she hadn’t expected this question just yet.

For a brief moment, Mapí was silent, just gazing at her daughter, who was looking back at her with wide, innocent eyes, eager for a response.

“Clara, honey,” Mapí began gently, pulling her onto her lap, “It’s not that I don’t love playing for Spain anymore. I’ve always loved it. I still do.”

Clara tilted her head, clearly puzzled. “Then why don’t you play with my tias? You’re the best player! Tia Ale plays for Spain, so does Aita, Patri, Jana and Irene. All the girls play for a country there's a lot of countries more than just Spain. It's so cool. ”

Mapí let out a soft laugh, gently pushing a lock of hair away from Clara’s forehead. “You know, being the best doesn’t always cut it. Football is more than just skills—it’s about the teammates, the environment, and how you feel … on the inside.”

Clara looked puzzled, her little brain trying to process the information. “But … but you’re amazing, Mamí! You helped Spain win! Why wouldn’t they want you anymore?”

Mapí felt a weight in her chest. She had kept the real reasons for stepping back from the national team to herself, not wanting to overwhelm Clara with the complicated details. But now, her daughter deserved honesty, even if it was tough to share.

“Sometimes, Clara,” Mapí said, her voice thick with feeling, “sometimes the people in charge don’t treat you the way you should be treated. They don’t do their jobs properly and might end up hurting people. They might not recognise your worth. And when you feel that way for too long, it gets hard to keep going. When something like that happens, iIt hurts. And when something hurts, you have to think about what’s best for you.”

Clara paused, clearly processing everything. Mapí could see the little gears working in her brain. “So... you left … because they were … mean? … to you?”

Mapí gazed into her daughter’s eyes, so similar to her own, feeling a pang in her heart. “Sí carino, something like that. But it’s not just about being nice. It’s about feeling valued and … and being respected. Football is all about teamwork, but it is also based on trust and support. When those things are missing, it gets really tough to keep playing.”

Clara seemed to ponder this for a while, a little crinkle forming in her brow. Finally, she asked, “Are you going to go back?”

Mapí offered a gentle smile, a blend of sadness and hope shining in her eyes. “I’m not sure, nena. Sometimes, people need a little time to heal before they can return to something and sometimes you have to step away so the changes that need to be made can happen. Right now, I’m focusing on Barça and making sure I’m in a good place, where I can be the best version of myself …  the best Mamí I can be for you. I can’t promise I’ll ever play for Spain again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the game or my country. I do. Always.”

Clara looked up at her mom, her tiny hands resting on Mapí’s arm. “I want you to play for Spain again. I want to see you in the jersey.”

Mapí’s heart warmed, her daughter’s words reminding her of the love that kept her going every day. “Maybe one day, pequeña. Maybe one day.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the heaviness of their talk hanging in the air. Mapi realised that Clara didn’t grasp everything completely, but she could see the love and hope shining in her daughter’s eyes. And honestly, that was enough for now.

With a gentle kiss on Clara’s forehead, Mapí pulled her in for a tight hug. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my biggest supporter. That’s what really counts.”

Clara beamed, resting her head on her mom’s shoulder. “I’ll always cheer for you, Mamí. Forever.”

[squishyo-o]

.+*𝓜𝓸𝓶𝓶𝔂, 𝓱𝓾𝓱?*+. ❤️‍🔥

• IDOL!Seonghwa x FEM!Reader

• CW!: Needy/Desperate reader (in the beginning), Mentions of Nudes (?? Idk. Again, only the beginning) Seonghwa being thirty for that 🐱, body worshiping done by seonghwa and his tongue, Somnophilia, overstimulation, Seonghwa in a black tank top (yes this needs its own warning), pet names (angel, pretty, baby, good/pretty girl, probably more that I put in this thing), smut smut smut with a small little plot, I’m probably forgetting stuff

This was a recommendation by @bbdeongi (sorry if you don’t appreciate tags 😓 I didn’t know how to notify you I made this LMAO) after I made that one post a while ago! Whoever recommended this, I hope you enjoy it <3 (This is basically the prompt: post prompt)

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Why did he have to be gone for so long..

So.. agonizingly long…

You and your idol boyfriend, Seonghwa, have been together for roughly a year and a half now. He unfortunately had been super busy since the day of the comeback announcement and you guys hadn’t had been able to spend too much time together. Granted, you’d also get busy at times, but usually the two of you would find a day, or at least a period of time that you guys would be free to go out with each other or relax at home and cuddle together. Even then, sex wasn’t a question with the two of you. Most of the time he’s pretty soft but the days where the group stressed him out, you’ll be in for a lovely ride.

This time you were pent up at home

Since the day of the comeback announcement, he had been busy with recording the new songs for the album and practicing the choreography for their title track. These were the times you kind of hated the most about his job since the amount of time the two of you would spend time together was very little. You were sat in bed with your legs spread and embarrassingly fingering yourself. You knew Seonghwa was way better than you were. Because then he uses his mouth and just makes you fall apart again. Soft helpless sobs came from your lips as you were desperately trying to get yourself to cum somehow. You were hearing Seonghwa’s voice in your head which just turned you on more, but it wasn’t the same.

Every time you got there, you couldn’t seem to get yourself to finish. You eventually got fed up and was too tired to try again. But you decided to show Seonghwa what he was missing out on. You grabbed your phone on the beside table and snapped a picture of your unfinished pussy. Aching and left over. You sent it to him with a caption of 'please hurry home.. miss you.. ❤️' and put the phone down back on the nightstand to go clean yourself up. Even walking to the bathroom just to clean yourself up made you shake and wobble. Seonghwa, who got the message notification, was on a water break when he saw the text.

Fuck..

Seeing you like that, and he wasn’t able to do anything about it right now? Way turned him on. He kept staring at that wetness between your legs in the picture. He silently cursed to himself. Why couldn’t practice just be done already? He wanted so badly to just hurry home and fuck you with his mouth. It didn’t help that your moans were ringing in his ears. Such a beautiful symphony; it makes his cock twitch. He had to cross his legs and play it off as him getting comfortable. "God.. practice can’t go by any faster.." he mumbled under his breath taking a sip of his water, still staring at the picture you sent. He reacted to the picture with a heart and even replied:

"I’m so sorry my angel. Wait for me pretty, and I promise my tongue will give you paradise 💞"

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Roughly about 3 hours later, and Seonghwa was finally on his way home, Really was just about to step into the house. Fuck he has never been so hungry for you. The entire way back home was just him thinking about you. You and your cunt. You and your wet, throbbing, and needy cunt. Even thinking about it now made his cock jump. He needed to be inbetween your legs. Now. He unlocked the front door and let himself in, taking his shoes off. A warm feeling hugged his arms walking in like it always did, knowing that you were here. Here, home, and horny as shit. Seonghwa went upstairs to your guys’s shared room and opened the door.

"Angel? Oh.."

He looked on the bed and saw you. Sleeping. "Fuck I’m sorry angel.. did I take too long..?" He whispered. He looked at your sleeping body, lips in a soft pout in your innocent and peaceful rest. You looked so adorable, but he was hungry for that needy pussy. That picture stirred him up. "Pretty.. I’m home.." he softly spoke, not trying to wake you up too much, but enough to know he was home. "hwa.." you hummed, very sleepy. "I saw what you sent me.. need a little help?" You whined a little, nodding, and starting to fall asleep again. "Aww poor thing.. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.. here.."

Seonghwa climbed over you and your now sleeping figure. "So pretty.." he lifted the blankets and saw that you were only in underwear. Underwear and his t-shirt. "Fuck Angel.. you know how to turn me on and I wasn’t even here.." he said. He looked at your sleeping figure. "Least you’ll wake up to something pleasant, yes?" He carefully slid your panties off and pushed your legs apart to see your pussy. "Poor thing.. can’t believe I left you hanging for so long.." he put in 2 fingers and curled them a couple times, eliciting sleepy whines from you.

"So pretty. Even while you’re sleeping.." He took his fingers away and licked them clean. "Fuck angel.. gotta get a better taste of you.." he said, now dipping his face between those legs and starting to suck and use his tongue, groaning at how good you tasted. He could hear whines coming from you, and could feel you regaining your consciousness. "H-hwa.. Seonghwa.." you moaned. Seonghwa kept lapping up your cunt and slurping up your juices. He was eating you out like it was his last meal. You clamped your thighs around his face, telling him you were close.

You had a grip on his hair because of how well he was doing. Loud and long moans were drawn out of you. "Seonghwa! Seonghwa please I’m close.. I’m close please! Please mommy I’m gonna cum!" Mommy? That’s surely new. And hot. He kept going until the coil in your abdomen finally snapped and you came hard on his tongue. He licked it all up, but didn’t stop. He was still going. "S-seonghwa! T-too much! Too much!" You moaned, but he was still going; his tongue reaching every spot in your clit. Even the ones you didn’t know about.

Your legs were shaking. Thighs squeezing around his face as he kept eating your out. The slurping and groaning sounds that would usually embarrass you, turning you on more. "M-mommy.. mommy I’m gonna cum again.." you moaned as you felt the same familiar pit in your stomach. With one of his hands he put a hand on your thigh and squeezed it which then set you off again and made you moan his name loud as you creamed on his tongue. And he was there to lick it all up.

You staggeringly whined and moaned as you came down from your second high and seonghwa’s pussy eating finally came to a stop. He came back up and looked at you, cocking his eyebrow in amusement. "Mommy, huh?" Your cheeks flushed and you got goosebumps. You looked away before nodding. "Hm.. interesting.." Seonghwa began taking his sweats off. You could see how much he was painfully aching in his boxers. "Need you so bad Angel.. couldn’t wait to get home after I saw the message.. you and that pretty pussy of yours.. fuck.." he groaned.

"Can’t wait to fuck you.." He took off the blankets and began kissing your neck sweetly. "Hwa.." you whined. "Such a pretty girl.." you were still quite tired from the two previous orgasms, but the way Seonghwa was talking, there was no way he was gonna stop now. He was turned on. "Seonghwa.. c-can’t go again.." you whined. Seonghwa was busy worshipping your body and had already taken his shirt off of you while kissing your boobs. "No bra underneath? In my t-shirt? Someone was needy.." you then pouted. "So are you by how you’re kissing me.." Seonghwa chuckled.

"You don’t seem to mind though, right?" He said and went back to your thighs, kissing and biting on them and listening to the sounds of your moans. Seonghwa took off his boxers and alined himself with your hole. "So sorry I kept you waiting my angel.." he said as he entered you, you gasping at the intrusion. "S-seonghwa I-i can’t.. go again.." he began thrusting in you slowly. "Cmon now.. be a good girl for mommy, eh?" You moaned at his words. He went slow for a little bit before going a little faster, hearing your moans get louder. "Oh my fucking god.. Seonghwa.. please more.."

"Ah ah.. that’s not my name, is it angel? Try again.. what’s my name?"

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𝓐𝓝: chat- the delay on this story IM SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭 I GOT IT OUT THOUGH 🥲 Hope you guys enjoy this one!! Lmk in comments or reblogs <3 love you guys and remember to be kind to yourself and drink water ❤️ xoxo

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 57

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,835ish

Summary: Wade, Laura, and Logan take care of you despite you feeling like a burden.

Notes: Next update will not be until Jan. 19th at the earliest. Thanks for understanding. Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

After your brief words to Logan, the pain overtook you again and you fell back unconscious. When it was Laura’s turn to take care of you, Logan made sure that the door was shut behind him. He knew that the two of you needed your privacy. Laura’s tears started as she sat next to your bed and took your hand.

“I can’t lose you, mom,” Laura sobbed. “I’ve lost everyone else… I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Always,” you rasped, still groggy but at least waking up. “You're my daughter… can’t stay mad at you for long…”

“Mom! I’ve been so worried… so scared.”

“I know, kiddo… but I’m here.” You gave her hand the best squeeze you could muster.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like hell,” your laugh fell flat.

Laura didn’t find it funny one bit, her face falling more. “There’s got to be something that we can do… Something that will make this easier.”

“Cassandra told me that Charles’ seizures affected my mutation… she said that there was something that she could do about it but refused to help… She’s dead now and I can’t go back to the mansion to get Charles’ help.”

“I can’t… I can’t lose you… I can’t stand by and watch your mutation kill you like dad’s did.”

“Laura… Listen to me. No matter what happens, you continue down the path that you are on. Do not become what they made you to be… Promise me.”

She nodded. “I promise, mom.”

“Good… Now… I really need some more pain meds.”

~~~

Logan had locked himself in the bathroom after leaving your room. His mind was swirling with memories of his version of you, of the events of the last day or so, and of the information that your Logan’s adamantium bones had poisoned him. 

Would he be dealt the same fate?

Or would he be cursed to watch you deal with a similar fate?

And would he be strong enough to deal with any of what happened? He wasn’t strong enough the first time when things got hard. He only made things harder. Splashing his face with some water, Logan met his own gaze in the mirror. He could do this. Be this person. Be better than he had been for his you. Be better for Laura and Wade. Logan couldn’t let the people who trusted him down again. He sighed before heading out to the living room.

“Still writing?” Logan grumbled as he saw Wade lounging on the couch with his laptop.

“Nope,” Wade responded, “just trying to beat your ass in saving the day.”

“What?”

“I’m going to find someone who can help cure our Little Flame. The normal people are out of the question since she can’t go near the mansion, so I’m searching for someone else.”

Logan’s log strides took him quickly to sit beside Wade and look at his screen. “What have you found?”

“Nothing and no one. I’m thinking we may need to take a travel through the Multiverse to find a way to help her.”

“We can’t just go from universe to universe without knowing what we’re lookin’ for.”

“We’re looking for a telepath,” Laura stated, heading into the kitchen. 

“How do you know?”

“My mom’s awake. She told me.”

Wade and Logan rushed down the hallway and burst into your room. You winced at how loud they were.

“Buttercup!” Wade exclaimed.

“Wade, Logan,” you greeted.

“How are you feeling?” Logan asked, stepping closer.

“Fine… Laura’s getting me meds and I’m afraid I’m going to need more burn cream than I have.”

“Oh! Nose goes!” Wade announced, placing a finger on his nose. “Ha! Looks like Peanut has to go!”

“What the fuck was that?” Logan wondered, completely confused. “You can’t just put your finger on your nose like a child and—“

“Why don’t both of you go?” You interrupted. “Laura can take care of me just fine. Besides, we all need some food.”

“Yeah! Just me and my Peanut, running errands!” Wade exclaimed, clapping excitedly.

You went to laugh, but it quickly turned into a whine at the pain. You noticed the shift in the men immediately, both ready to jump in and help you. 

“I’m fine,” you told them. “Go. Laura’s got this.”

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Wade said before skipping down the hall. Logan lingered in the doorway. “Come on, Peanut!”

“Go, Logan. Your boyfriend’s waiting. I’ll be fine.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Logan grumbled, following after Wade.

Laura came into the room with a water bottle and a variety of meds. She came over and sat on the bed. She carefully helped you sit up against a bunch of pillows. 

“I can do the rest,” you said, shakily reaching for the pills. You took them and threw them down your throat before Laura handed you the water bottle. “I hate this… Laura, I’m going to need your help to get to the bathroom.”

“Okay.” 

Laura took the water bottle, setting it aside before carefully helping you to your feet. You leaned heavily on her as she guided you to the bathroom. She helped you inside and you gripped the counter.

“I can handle it from here,” you told her.

“Are you sure?” She asked. “I don’t mind—“

“I’ll call you if I need anything.”

Laura sighed before leaving the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. You took care of business before using the counter to get you up and wash your hands. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You could see the burns that littered the skin that you could see. Slowly, you pulled your shirt up and quietly gasped. Your torso was burnt badly. There was no stopping the tears. 

You absolutely hated this. You hated how your powers were failing you and you didn’t know how to stop it. You hated how your skin was quickly becoming more scarred than ever before and how weak you were becoming. But what you hated most was that you were becoming a burden to Laura and your friends. You couldn’t hold back the sob that erupted from deep inside you. Your body gave out, proving how weak you still were, and you collapsed to the floor.

“Mom?” Laura sounded very concerned from the other side of the door. “Are you okay? Do you need any help?”

“No,” you quickly said, trying to calm yourself. “I’m fine!”

You knew that Laura didn’t believe you, but you were thankful that she didn’t push anymore. You grabbed a nearby towel and wadded it up before placing it against your mouth to try to drown the sobs.

Laura sat against the wall opposite of the bathroom as she listened to your sobs. Her own tears gathered. Leaning her head back against the wall, Laura closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel all the swirling emotions inside of her. She snapped to attention the moment she smelt smoke. Without a word, Laura barged into the bathroom to find you curled up on the floor, towel against your mouth, and small flames forming around your body.

“Mom! Please, you’ve got to calm down,” Laura begged as she knelt beside you. She pulled the towel from your grip before you could set it on fire before she grabbed your hands, ignoring the burning sensation that ran through her own. “Mom, breathe with me. In… Out…”

“I—I—I need… to… cool… down…” You stammered while trying to catch your breath.

“How do I do that?” Laura asked.

“The… tub…”

Laura moved quickly. She turned the cold water on and plugged the tub before helping you into it. Neither of you care that you were still wearing your clothes. Laura held tightly to your hand as the two of you waited for the cold water to help you. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, mom, don’t apologize,” Laura shook her head. 

“You shouldn’t have to take care of me… you shouldn’t have to lose another parent like this…”

“You took care of me and you didn’t even have to. I’m not going anywhere.”

~~~

“So I’m thinking we head to the TVA and see what we can dig up there on a nearby telepath,” Wade planned as he and Logan carried the groceries up the stairs. “I don’t care what universe or time we need to go, we are finding a telepath.”

“Let’s just focus on getting Y/N feelin’ better before we plan another visit to the TVA,” Logan muttered, opening up the door of your apartment. He immediately could sense that something happened. He dropped the grocery bags and raced down the hall, only to find you in the tub with Laura sitting beside it. “What happened?”

“She broke down and over heated,” Laura explained. “She fell asleep and I couldn’t get myself to move her. The water is keeping her cool and helping soothe the burns.”

“I’ll move her to the bed. Grab her a new set of clothes and Wade—“

“I’ve already got the burn cream and bandages!” Wade shouted.

Laura nodded as she gave your hand a squeeze before going to get you a new set of clothes. Logan found a towel and crouched down next to the tub. He laid the towel over his lap then reached down and pulled you out of the tub. A whine slipped through your lips.

Logan quickly shushed you. “I’ve got you, Y/N,” he said softly. “Go back to sleep. We’ll take care of ya.”

He wrapped the towel around you and tried to dry you off the best he could. Laura came back with a new set of clothes for you and Logan gently set you on the ground, leaning against the wall.

“I’ll let you change her,” he said. “Let me know when you’re done and I’ll carry her back to bed.”

~~~

When you woke up to full consciousness, you were back in bed, changed, and bandaged up. Your door was open and no one was in your room, though you could hear them down the hall in the living area. Doing a quick check of your body, you still felt achy but it was better than before. You pushed yourself up and moved your legs over your bed. Unsteadily, you got to your feet and carefully headed out into the hall. Once you were there, you used the walls to help you get out to the living area where you found Blind Al sitting on the couch with Laura, the two quietly discussing something and Wade and Logan bickering in the kitchen. You noticed that your kitchen was a mess as the two of them worked to make something.

“What is going on out here?” You finally spoke up. Everyone’s head snapped in your direction.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Logan asked as he rushed over.

Laura was at your side in an instant, her arm around you to hold you up. “You should be resting,” Laura scolded. 

“I’m feeling a bit better,” you insisted. “And I heard all this commotion out here. What is going on?”

“I’m making dinner and baking a cake!” Wade exclaimed, still working away in the kitchen.

“Sure doesn’t smell editable,” Althea retorted. “Smells like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh before wincing. Laura and Logan were immediately on alert.

“Okay, enough,” Logan said. “You’re going back to bed.”

“No,” you shook your head, “My healing factor is kicking in. I can sit on the couch.”

“Mom,” Laura whispered, giving you a pleading look. “Please go lay back down.”

“She doesn’t have a choice,” Logan stated, sweeping you off of your feet and carrying you down the hall.

“Logan!” You squealed, smiling and laughing. 

It lifted everyone’s spirits to hear that sound. You felt at safe—almost home—in Logan’s arms as he carried you back to bed. You smiled up at Logan as he set you down, a brief moment you forgot about everything, including that the man touching you was not your husband. Suddenly, your face fell and you flinched away as your mind caught up with reality. Logan was not your Logan. He was not your husband. Logan noticed the quick shift.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, fighting back the tears. “I’m just tired.”

Logan didn’t believe that you were telling him the whole truth. “Well, Wade and I are almost done with dinner.”

“Okay.” Your eyes were focused on your hands as they messed with the blanket.

He dipped his head to try to catch your eye but you avoided it. “Are you sure there’s nothin’ wrong?”

“Let me know when you’re done with dinner.”

Logan let out a grunt, studying you for a few more seconds before leaving the room. 

~~~

You were back to work a week later, despite Laura and Logan’s wishes. Wade was on your side, telling everyone that his favorite superhero was strong enough to handle anything. You were beginning to feel added pressure of Wade’s belief in you along with everything else you were still feeling. Despite it being summer, you wore long sleeves to constantly cover the scars that now littered your body more than you had ever had before.

Laura, Logan, and Wade could see that things were still weighing heavily on you. Each of them did what they could for you, though you often insisted that you were fine and could handle everything. You were pushing their help away, embarrassed that you need to rely on them so much.

One night, you came home late do to a closing shift. Logan could hear you from where he was waiting up in his apartment. He had made it a habit to listen for you on your late shifts. He quickly went to the door and peeked his head out to see you struggling to open the door due to your hands trembling and new burns on them.

“What happened?” Logan asked, taking quick strides over to you.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, focusing on getting the door open. “I’m fine.”

“Your hands are burnt.”

You pushed the door open, causing it to slam against the wall. You were thankful that Laura was sleeping over at a friends house so that you didn’t have to worry about her see you like this tonight. You marched inside, with Logan close behind. He gently closed the door and took note to take care of the hole that the doorknob had made in the morning.

“Y/N, we need to take care of your hands,” Logan said quietly.

“We don’t need to do anything,” you retorted, focusing on anger out of all your swirling emotions. “I can take care of myself just fine. I’ve been doing it for years.”

“Yes, but you don’t need to. I can—“

“I don’t even know you!” You spun around to face him. Your hands clenched as flames threatened to take over. “You look like my James— my husband, but you’re not him. You have a different life, a different set of memories. You have a different me!” Tears began to sizzling down your heated cheeks. “I don’t even know what fully happened between the two of you but you seem to know my whole life story. I don’t need your pity and I don’t need to be your replacement and you don’t deserve to be mine. We can be friends, that’s fine, but I don’t need you stepping in to take care of me all the time! You’re not my husband!”

“Y/N, I’m—“

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

Logan’s hands came up in surrender as flames engulfed your fists. “Okay, okay, just please take a deep breath. I— I’ll go, just please, stop. Stop the flames. Don’t hurt yourself anymore, please.”

“Then get out!”

Logan hesitated for a moment, but he could see the seriousness and heartbreak in your eyes. You wanted to be alone and him being here right now would only make things worse. With slow steps, he turned and left the apartment, but he couldn’t get himself to move away from the door.

You were right in some of your words. Logan wasn’t your husband, but he wasn’t trying to be. He was just trying to help you like friends do. You also had a point that he definitely knew more of your story than you knew of his. Logan just hated to talk about his past. It brought him to a place he couldn’t handle. But maybe you deserved to know that you weren’t a replacement to him. 

Logan sighed as he heard your sobs through the door. There was no way he was going back to his apartment tonight, even with it just next door. He still didn’t know what happened to you before you got home and you were clearly not in a good place mentally. He leaned against the door and slid down to the ground.  He couldn’t leave you alone. He would wait until either Laura returned or you decided to leave the apartment. 

next chapter >

[welcome-to-green-hills]

Why do you think that Sonic 3 received much more critical praise than the previous 2 movies in the franchise? What do you think was improved?

Hi Hon❤️✨

I promise that I haven’t been ignoring your asks concerning this question topic. I was trying my best to locate some interviews and commentary to support my answer to your question. However, I can give you a quick response without extra fluff.

I feel that the third film did as well as it did due to the crew listening to the fans and evaluating critiques. Yes, these are Sonic fans making the movie, but they’re also making professionals in their field. They know how to cater to film critics, casual movie fans, and Sonic fans very well.

One of the things that I feel that they listened to was focus on the characters that they’ve wanted to use. There is absolutely nothing wrong with using original characters. Not at all! And from these original characters, we’ve grown to love Tom, Maddie, and Agent Stone very much. We’re vocal about loving these characters and how they work well with Sonic-based characters. Therefore, we didn’t have any other side characters to worry about as well. It’s creates a balance.

The story focused on one main issue rather than having a subplot. We focus on one problem and how to solve it. I am in no way, no how saying that subplots are bad. What I’m saying is that a subplot can work if it matches the story’s pacing. Sonic 2 (2022)’s subplot needed to happen. We had to have the wedding scene in order to know that Walters and G.U.N. was active and watching the Wachowski family. That, as we needed to know that Rachel’s heart wasn’t broken in the end by an Agent. However, what got in the way was the subplot’s pacing. If the pacing was reevaluated just a tad, then I think that Sonic fans would be more open to it. Other than such, I think that it was a good close to Rachel’s story in the SCU. She’s finally happy.

Sonic 3 felt more like Sonic 1 (2020), which was a movie that a lot of people enjoyed. It focuses on a uniqueness and charm that was there from the film. It makes it a point to show that Sonic and Shadow are “what if situations” if they took different paths.

The music. Holy shit the music. Mr. Fowler explained a couple of years ago that inserting Sonic music into the movie was problematic due to how SEGA copyrighted their music for the games (info on that it’s in my pinned post from January 2024). It’s not that they didn’t want to use it, it’s how the video game company copyrighted it. Whatever Mr. Fowler did to convince SEGA to lift their copyright agreement on the music changed the soundtrack for the film. There is DEFINITELY Sonic music to a movie that is meant to be a representation to a very beloved Sonic game.

Shadow. Just. Shadow. Whether some fans like it or not, Shadow is an extremely popular character. And he’s very popular for a reason. He’s a character that people can relate to on an emotional and mental level. If people have experienced loss and anger, then they relate to Shadow. This is not me saying that fans can only relate to Shadow. What I’m saying is that there are many layers and personalities to Shadow that fans might like where you might not get that with characters like Tails or Amy Rose. With the promotion of “Fearless: Year of Shadow” all through 2024 and a remaster of Sonic Generations, I think that influenced many fans to appreciate him on a level that was never considered before, as well as create new fans to the fandom. Plus, I can definitely see Hollywood utilizing Shadow the Hedgehog more in future films. That, and banking Keanu Reeves to voice Shadow (a very popular fan casting since the early 2010s) has helped tremendously.

And finally, the SCU crew knows now to make fans want to come back for more. They leave trails of breadcrumbs through movies and the miniseries that leads to you research how the “rules” work for the SCU, as well as encourage you to explore Sonic through the video games. When lore differs a between the games, the SCU crew knows how to make it faithful and pay homage to the original idea without trying to proclaim that one idea is better than the other. Both ideas are unique and cool in their own ways.

Anyways! These are my thoughts for now. I’m sure that I’ll have more later down the road.😊

[paintedkinzy-88]

I really hate to be this person, but my cat has to get surgery and the cost is really going to wipe us out, unfortunately, so…

I’ve been working on making a RedBubble for prints and such, and I’ll probably get stickers set up on Etsy as soon as I’m able to, but for now I set up a Ko-Fi for a sort of commission-like opportunity.

Until January 16th, I will draw a dragon design for a character of your choice for $25! Not like a full reference sheet, I wanna have the time to get to as many as I can if I need to, but still fully rendered like above. Dragons are the one thing I think I can draw consistently and repeatedly, so I’m sorry it’s nothing more broad! 😭

Rules are under the cut, PLEASE READ THEM before you do anything! ❤️ I am very new with this, so please be patient with me.

Link to my page is here, and I’ll put it on my Masterpost as well.

Thank you, whether you can donate or not. I appreciate all the support you guys have ever given me. (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

REQUEST RULES:

You can place your orders under the Requests section!

The listing will close after January 16th, 11:59 PM PST, and I set my max request slots to 15, so I’m not too overwhelmed lmao.

Leave your Tumblr account in the description box of the request, alongside the requested character, so I may contact you and/or tag you in the completed drawing’s post! If you want to remain anonymous, though, that is totally fine as well.

I will send updates/process pictures unless you tell me otherwise, or you go the anon route!

If you have a certain dragon character already in mind, want an OC done, or have any additional requests for the piece (pose, dragon type, any sort of design specifications), tell me in the instructions! There should be a section for images as well. Or you can message me here, of course!

I WILL be posting every finished piece here, unless told otherwise!

If you do not send specifications, I will design the dragon(s) as I see fit to the character! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

I cannot promise any kind of time frame for when the drawing will be complete. I do have other things that take up my time. I will try to complete them ASAP!

Should you want more than one character in the same shot, I’d say it’s an extra $10 for each additional design (in the listing). But, if you want each character on their own page, that is a separate order, $25 each.

These are for fully rendered pieces in my style, no backgrounds, and no reference sheets. If you want other options for cheaper, like just a colored sketch, message me first and we can talk about that as well. :)

Depending on how this week goes, I may choose to do this again in the future with more formality and flexibility! This is just a bit of an emergency. ;w;

Message me/send an Ask if you have any questions!!

The Ko-Fi also serves as a sort of tip jar, should you simply want to donate a $5 coffee instead. By all means, if you cannot or don’t want to donate, PLEASE don’t. I just don’t really know what else to do. :/

The above image is one of the designs I made for Ink in UTMV. Further examples of my work are below!

(Note that the drawings will be more like these first two examples!! For price reference, the two characters would have been $35, and the five $65)

[wands-natsthing]

I was thinking your starting as a teacher at nevermore (reader is a werewolf) and because they're living on site they only communicate with their husband through texts and stuff. They try to set up a date between the two of them but are denied over and over again, eventually they have a private meeting with Larissa to discuss how they're doing at the new job and they kinda just start rambling about it? Idk I just want comfort from tall pretty lady lol <333

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒

Hellooooo sooo THIS ISNT GREAT AT ALL! But It is a start to get back into writing and posting so I hope you enjoy anon!!

As usual feedback is more than welcomed!! And I enjoy reading the comments and things so much!!

THERES no warnings besides the fact that this is lowkey shit and I’m sorry!

Word count: 790 this is a rlly short one

Ily you all 🫶

Also barely proofread

As the school bell tolled, signaling the end of another day, you sat in your cozy but cluttered classroom. A stack of ungraded papers loomed large on your desk, along with the impending full moon later tonight, but your thoughts drifted elsewhere.

You glanced at your phone, hoping for a message from your husband.

Adjusting to this new job had been a challenge. Each day was filled of bright-eyed students and the unique quirks of teaching supernaturals with diverse powers. However, the real difficulty lay in living on-site while juggling a position that consumed most of your time.

While you tried your best to stay connected, he did not seem to return the same courtesy.

“Hey, love. Can we set a date soon? I miss you.”

Pressing send brought a mix of hope and anxiety. You often found yourself daydreaming of evenings spent together candlelit dinners outside under the stars or cozy nights in. But those moments had become nearly impossible recently, with the chaos of your teaching schedule and the everyday hurdles of werewolf life creeping in. It wasn't long before your phone buzzed.

“I’m busy at the moment. Let’s try again soon?”

Another letdown. You sighed, feeling the weight of disappointment settle heavily in your chest. You needed support and just wanted to share how your day went, stresses, and laughter with someone, anyone at this point.

As the days rolled on, this pattern continued. Text messages flew back and forth, filled with brief exchanges and promises of plans. Yet, the long separation gnawed at your heart, leaving you feeling lonely.

With a mountain of overdue papers to grade, you knew it was only a matter of time before Larissa Weems, the headmistress of Nevermore, summoned you for a private meeting.

You entered her office, nervously adjusting the collar of your shirt. Moonlight combined with a small table lamp lit the room. “Thank you for seeing me, Headmistress.”

“Of course, darling. And please call me Larissa when we're alone,” she said, gesturing for you to sit. Her voice was smooth and inviting.

“I wanted to check in on how you’re adjusting. Teaching at Nevermore isn’t a small feat, especially for someone new.”

“I appreciate that,” you replied, warmth flooding your face at the pet name. “It’s been… a challenge, but nothing I can't handle. The students are incredible,” you said with a small smile.

Larissa nodded, her expression thoughtful. “It’s okay to feel that way. It’s a lot to manage. I can’t help but notice you’ve been distant. Is it the job, or is something else troubling you?”

You hesitated, weighing your words carefully until finally, the dam broke. “It’s my husband. I've been trying to set up dates, but every time I try, something comes up. I just feel distant from him, and I didn’t expect it to hurt this much.”

Larissa leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady and warm. “Distance can be a heavy burden, especially when you're trying to maintain a connection with someone you love. It’s completely understandable to feel lost among the chaos.” She allowed a moment of silence for you to absorb her words before continuing. “You know,” she said, a playful smile dancing on her lips, “there are other kinds of connections that can help fill that void. Sometimes, a touch of companionship is just what one needs.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief, hinting at a deeper meaning.

As you blinked in surprise, Larissa leaned slightly forward, light creating shadows that danced across her elegant features. “I admire your dedication to your husband, truly. But don’t forget to nurture yourself as well. You deserve someone to lean on, someone who can brighten your days… perhaps even a charming headmistress.”

You felt a flutter in your chest, a mix of comfort and thrill at her flirtation. “Larissa, I—”

“Look, you’re a remarkable person, and it’s only natural to crave connection. Life can be overwhelming, but it’s important to embrace all the experiences that come your way. Don’t be afraid to let yourself be cherished, even if it’s just for a moment.” With that, Larissa’s fingers brushed against your hand, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“You are not alone in this, and it’s okay to seek out something or someone that brings you joy.”

Your pulse quickened, caught off guard by the soft intensity of her words. “I’m trying to figure everything out,” you replied, feeling both reassured and intrigued by Larissa’s flirtatious words.

“Just remember, sometimes the heart knows exactly what it desires, even when the mind hesitates. And if you ever need a listening ear or some special company, you know where to find me.” She said with a wink.

“Now, about those ungraded papers?”

[gldrushh]

SUGAR AND SIN | JK

🧁✧ ˚.TITLE: Sugar and Sin.

🧁✧ ˚. PAIRING: Mafia boss! Jungkook x female oc

🧁✧ ˚.GENRE: Mafia au, grumpy x sunshine, forced proximity, slow burn, dark romance, crime/thriller.

🧁✧ ˚.BLURB: When curiosity takes Aurora Beckett from cupcakes to creeping into a mansion, she stumbles upon a world she’s not ready for. Sneaking around is one thing; getting caught by a business mogul is another.

🧁✧ ˚.TAGS: oc is a little impulsive(maybe a lot), oc makes a dumb decision what's new, KIM TAEHYUNG makes an entry, he's a sly bastard but we love him for that

🧁✧ ˚.WARNINGS: Mild Violence/Threatening Behavior, mentions of paranoia/ anxiety.

🧁✧ ˚.A/N: thinking I'm gonna make a masterlist for this series 🤔🤔

🧁✧ ˚.TAG LIST: @scuzmunkie @eshieslovemaze

CHAPTER 9: AURORA

Cheeto was still planning on running away.

His sharp nails scratched in a irratible manner against the soft wool of the lavender hued sweater as he continued to make constant attempts to wriggle out of Aurora's arms, clearly displeased with being escorted back to his "prison."

"Stop it, cheets. I really like this one." She mumbled to tabby, readjusting him in her arms.

If the landlord of her apartment, Mrs Jung was any better of a person and not a stone heart lady in her fifties who acted like any movement of fur was a national emergency, maybe cheeto and her sweater wouldn't have to go through this.

But since that wasn't the case, Aurora just hoped her little troublemaker would get the sweetest of homes even if that came in the cost of never seeing him again.

Until then, he'll have to do with his prison.

The jingling of the door bell on the animal shelter's door was familiar to Aurora and so was the purrs and barks that came along with it the instant she pushed inside.

"Morning, Eunji!" the brunette called out as she stepped inside, the familiar scent of cedarwood and pet shampoo filling the small lobby. "Look who's here to make it good." She joked, putting the orange tabby with a permanent scowl on the front desk.

Eunji glanced up from the front desk, her dark hair falling messily from her ponytail. "Ah, this little demon!" She laughed, taking him in her arms to press a kiss to his head that softened his mood a little. "I swear he does it on purpose to piss us off."

Aurora couldn't agree more.

"Thank you again, Aurora. He and I really do trouble you a lot."

She shook her hand in front of her dismissively. "Oh, no, it's alright. I found him hanging around the back of the bakery for some reason. It wasn't much trouble."

Aurora couldn't have lied more even if she tried.

"Still, thank you. You took care of him for the night." A smile, speaking of gratitude spread on her face to which Aurora smiled back in response. Eunji placed him back on the floor, letting Cheeto saunter to his personalized bowl that Aurora had gifted, filled with cat food. "He'll be fine here for now," she said, but there was a flicker of concern in her voice.

A concern Aurora felt all too well. leaning against the counter, she asked. "How are things going here?"

Eunji's smile faltered for a moment, and she let out a soft sigh. "It's... fine. For now." Her voice trailed off as she glanced around at the animals. "I'm doing my best, but the deadline is getting closer."

"I know." Aurora nodded quietly, her voice soft but resolute. "And I've been doing my best to save up some money to help. I promise we'll find a way."

Eunji's expression turned into a softer one. "I really appreciate all that you do for this place, Aurora. You've been a huge help really but I can't help but worry. I don't want them to loose their homes."

"Hey, we'll figure something out," Aurora cut in, trying to sound more optimistic than she felt. "The fundraising event is also around the corner. Don't lose hope." Aurora glanced around the shelter, her heart squeezing as she thought of this place closing down.

"We'll make sure they have a place to stay."

Eunji smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I hope you're right."

After waving goodbye to her friend, Aurora made her way to her bakery, considering the opening hours are gonna be starting soon.

A unease in her steps rather than a usual quiet energy, as if she was walking on clouds, free of the earth's pull when she was walking to her bakery.

A hesistant look crossed over her face rather than something speaking of characteristic familiarty as she entered in and her eyes instantly searched for the back room, her feet pulling her towards the space with a calculated carefulness because her mind was a little tease and was imagining pictures of the men from last night doing some satanic ritual there to call the Satan. She wouldn't question it if shadow man appeared instead.

But instead, the room was... normal. Everything was in its place, nothing suspicious lying around. No mysterious boxes. No blood rituals. Nothing.

She sighed in relief, shaking her head at her own paranoia. Of course, there was nothing. Smooth work, though, she had to admit.

Still, something gnawed at the back of her mind.

No. Hell no.

Before any sly ideas could worm their way inside, Aurora pushed them shut as she did with the door.

She would just take shadow man for his words, even if it's as crazy as it's sounds and mind her own buisness. She doesn't need to get involved in whatever this is.

୨ৎ

Days passed, and Aurora found herself clinging to small highlights and distractions. Sometimes it was the video calls with her parents, where her dad proudly showed off the progress on his classic. Other times, it was late-night strolls with Lia, searching for tteok-bokki shops that were still open to pair with cheap soju. She'd spend time hanging out with Cheeto at the shelter, helping Eunji with the animals. And when she wasn't doing that, she was getting the hang of her new crocheting hobby.

But it was the time when she'd start to close the bakery for the day as well as start to run out of distractions. It was the stillness in the moment that would make her thoughts run wild.

So she'd feed the gnawing curiosity little crumbs by lingering just a little late to keep an eye out of for any whispers of the shadowy world she'd glimpsed but it was like these men were robots, programmed to do one thing without a mistake and sound expect the heavy shuffles of their shoes.

That'd make her dare a little bit more where she'd try to creep around the alley, clearly learning nothing from the experience she had with that pervert who was somehow gonna show her a cat other than cheetoo, last time.

But then again, she had not catched the sight of that creep or his boss since that encounter, in the group of the black clad men.

Hyunsoo though, often spotted her lurking but would only offer a curt "Go home," blocking any attempts she made to learn more. And when she'd try to make progress in their blooming friendship in the nights he'd feel the necessity to walk her home, he'd just give his signature silence.

This night, she had enough with all the attempts gone in vain.

The nagging thought kept getting louder: she couldn't just sit by and let whatever shady business was happening around her continue unchecked.

I need to know what's going on, she thought, tapping her foot restlessly against the floor of her apartment as the clock approached midnight but still keeping mind of the people living in the floor beneath.She didn't had the time to deal with a noise complaint.

That's when the plan took root. Not a well-thought-out one, but she was getting desperate. And desperate times called for...well, stupid measures.

She slipped into an black hoodie she had borrowed from lia and jeans, her version of a "stealthy" outfit, and tied her hair back. She even grabbed some dark eyeliner and smeared it beneath her eyes for an extra layer of concealment.

Looking back into the mirror, she rather saw her 14 year old version who had stepped fresh into her emo phase because a guy she had a crush on mentioned he liked emo girls and not a woman who was gonna be putting her life on line.

Atleast they had one thing in common- both were comically absurd.

Determined, she stepped into the night with a box of blueberry cupcakes in her hand.

Her feet still bouncing in an anxiety that seemed to peak as her eyes stayed glued to the rearview mirror as the cab trailed behind the two black SUVs ahead that took off after packing up their work.

"Follow that car," she had told the cab driver, a request that earned her an odd look before he agreed. Ever turn and twist, she kept reminding herself- this wasn't some fun spy game; she was following people who might kill her if they noticed.

-But if she could just figure out what they were up to, maybe she'd stop feeling like a puppet in a dangerous game.

"Miss, this area is pretty out of the way. You sure you want to follow them all the way out here?" the driver asked, his eyes flicking between the road and the retreating taillights.

Aurora gulped. "Yeah, I'm sure."

They drove for another ten minutes, winding through the city until the buildings thinned out into sprawling estates, each bigger than the last. She felt the weight in her chest grow heavier, but she couldn't back out now.

When the black cars finally slowed down and turned into a massive iron gate, Aurora's breath caught in her throat. Holy hell, that's a mansion. She slouched lower in her seat, trying to avoid being seen.

"You want me to stop here?" The cab driver slowed down the car at a distance and asked with doubt.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Just... pull over."

The car eased to a stop at the side of the road. Aurora peered out the window, her heart racing as she watched the two cars disappear past the gates. The mansion loomed beyond, a monstrous structure of dark stone walls and glass, practically glowing under the moon light.

She hadn't expected this. This is where they're going?

This had to be something far more important and..sinister than she thought. And she was gonna find that out. Without overthinking, she handed the driver some cash with a thank you and slipped out of the cab, keeping to the shadows as she surveyed the metal gate that shut as soon as the cars got inside.

Although one thing stood out. There were no other men in black. No other guards surrounding or on duty in front of this place that looked like the home for royalty.

It looked more like a trap than mere carelessness.

She wasn't sure if she should be getting closer to that. But after a few moments of pacing and chewing her lip, she noticed an old side entrance near the back far from what looked like the main one, small and rusted. Now that was carelessness on their part.

A quick glance around. No one in sight.

Taking a deep breath, Aurora sneaked in through the gate and slipped onto the estate grounds, clutching the box in her arms like some kind of weak alibi as if her plan of serenading the shadow man with them if she accidentally stumbled upon him would actually work. He could use some sweetness in his system anyways.

She crept along the side of the well trimmed bushes, trying her best not to think about how this was possibly the worst idea she'd ever had. But she was committed now.

The garden was more of a massive lawn, perfectly manicured with tall hedges and sculptures that looked far too expensive to be touched, let alone damaged. Slowly, she began moving further into the garden, sticking close to the hedges and keeping her steps light. She couldn't help but glance around, half expecting some hidden security camera to zoom in on her at any moment. Her breath came out in small puffs of air as she pressed herself against the side of a large stone sculpture, listening intently.

Footsteps.

Voices.

Aurora's heart rate spiked as she heard the low murmur of men's voices not too far away. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but they were getting closer, and that was all that mattered. Crap.

She darted towards the nearest shadowy corner, hugging the side of the mansion's tall, imposing walls. The soft moonlight glinted off the sleek black stone, and for a moment, she felt small, like she had just stepped into a world far too big for her to understand.

As the voices grew louder, her pulse pounded in her ears. Aurora ended up practically pressed against the cold stone of the building, trying to stay hidden

Then, she heard it.

"Didn't expect to see a little mouse wandering around here." A deep smoth voice spoke out from behind, the edges of the words lilting with amusement.

Aurora recognized the voice before she even turned around. It was the same one she and Lia tuned in the buisness channels for.

Aurora's heart jumped into her throat at the realization, and she whipped around. Her eyes widened as they locked onto the tall, well-dressed man who was the finest one to walk on earth according to 6 mainstream magazines ever year.

She blinked. Then blinked again.

Holy. Crap.

Standing before her was Kim Taehyung-the Kim Taehyung. The one and only heir to Kim corporations- a ridiculously powerful family with buisness lineages that went beyond the borders of South Korea. The one that was always somehow in the top 10 trending topics. The one she and her blonde haired best friend may or may not have fangirled for in several occasions

Her brain short-circuited for a moment, processing the fact that the most handsome and recognizable man was looking down at her, and she was wearing a hoodie and extra eyeliner for gods sake.

Aurora's grip tightened on the cupcake box, as if it would save her from whatever was happening.

"KimfreakingTaehyung!" she gasped in one breath. Some part of her wished to lia to be here so she could validate this moment because Aurora didn't think anyone's going to believe her.

"What-how-I mean, what are you doing here?" she blurted next, half in awe, half in panic. Her attempt at being inconspicuous was completely blown. "Oh my God-- is this your house?"

Taehyung chuckled, "Kind of." Oh God, kill me.

His eyes then glanced down at the cupcake box in her arms, making the amused look get replaced by something else. But it was only for a second before his usual expression was back on with a greater intensity.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Ms Beckett." He spoke again and she almost fainted hearing her name come out of his mouth. Aurora had expected mystery, maybe even a little danger, but Kim Taehyung knowing her name was definitely not on the list..

Her mind reeled and words got caught in her throat. "Y-You know who I am?" The question "also can I touch you to see if you're real?" tried to escape from her mouth but she pushed it back down.

He smiled that million dollar smile of his, that made headlines. "You do buisness with a close friend of mine. Of course I know."

Aurora's brain screeched to a halt. Business? Friend? She replayed the words in her head, trying to connect the dots, but none of it made sense. She didn't know anyone in his circle-or at least she didn't think she did. Her wide-eyed stare must've been a dead giveaway because Taehyung's amused grin grew wider.

"You seem confused, Ms. Beckett," Taehyung said, his voice teasing. "Considering my friends leaves... quite the impression." His eyes flickered with something, like he was dropping a secret into her lap.

The realization hit her like a freight train.The shadow man. The man who owned her bakery and all the danger in her life. He was Kim Taehyung's friend? Why would a man with elegance like his would ever be acquaintances with a man like him?

Unless... there was not much difference between elegance and elusive.

"I... didn't know," she whispered, feeling like she was standing on the edge of a cliff. "I had no idea."

"It's alright. Most don't." He cooly said.

Despite his confirmation, she found it hard to imagine the polished business heir, always in the public eye, charming his way through interviews and dazzling the media with... that man who lurked in the shadows of alleyways and backdoor deals.

She glanced at Taehyung, the question burned on her tongue.

Taehyung, meanwhile, was studying her with mild amusement, clearly enjoying the way her mind was spinning. His gaze flicking to the cupcake box in her arms again. "I've also heard you're quite the baker, Ms Beckett. Just not that you did late night deliveries by sneaking around."

Aurora flushed, suddenly very aware of how out of her depth she was. "I-well, I don't usually... I mean, this isn't exactly a delivery!" she stammered, her voice embarrassingly high-pitched. "I was just... taking a walk and... you know, ended up here. As for the box it's like a emotional support. "

Her mind scrambled for something less ridiculous to say, but all she could focus on was the fact that Kim Taehyung was standing in front of her, smirking like he'd caught her in the most awkward situation possible-which, of course, he had.

"A midnight stroll in guarded grounds? Are you lying, Aurora?"

Aurora's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red and she was grateful for the dark the night provided at this moment.

Focus, she scolded herself again. This is not the time to act like a school girl with a crush in front of Kim Taehyung.

"Guess I got a little curious." She slyly managed although it leaned more towards awkward and I want the ground to swallow me in.

Taehyung's smile returned, but there was a subtle shift in his expression-something darker, though still controlled. "Curiosity is fine, Ms. Beckett," he said, his voice smooth as ever and now echoing in her ear as he leaned closer. "Just be sure you know when to stop." He added, the last being a deep whisper.

Aurora shifted uncomfortably on her feet as he leaned in and his rich, intoxicating colonge that clung effortlessly to him crashed onto her senses like a truck with a drunk driver, making the flush travel down to her neck.

Oh she needed to get out of here.

"Right. Well, I should... probably get going," Aurora managed to say, her voice slightly breathless. "Before I... accidentally let my curiosity get the better of me again." She gave a weak laugh, trying to will her face back to a normal color.

He maintained that smile on his face with a grace and smoothly took the cupcake box from her before she could disappear from here and most probably the face of the earth after the embarrassment she had put herself through, in front of Kim Taehyung, no less.

"I'll be expecting one of those boxes for me next time."

→ To be continued..

→ Previous chapter.

[little-fanfic-isle]

As promised, here it is. I couldn't NOT write something about this. It's just toooo good <3

--

You can find this on AO3, too! Uh, warning I guess. It's smutty 🫶🏻

--

lights out

In-Ho sits on his bed. The lights are already off, most of the players around him sound asleep by now. But In-Ho can’t get his eyes to close, his mind won’t stop racing. He keeps replaying scenarios in his head, how Gi-Hun barely leaves his side, how every time In-Ho catches a glimpse of the tiniest smile on Gi-Hun’s face he smiles, too.

His act is getting tougher to uphold. Young-il, In-Ho reminds himself. He needs to focus, to stick to the plan and take down Gi-Hun. He doesn't necessarily need Gi-Hun to understand his point of view. His side. But In-Ho isn’t the villain here. At least that is what he tells himself. But he really isn’t. It might look like he’s the worst of them all, but, in reality he’s anything but that.

The tragic death of his wife and his unborn child—it turned him into a completely different person. The one he is representing now. In-Ho isn’t coldhearted. He just doesn’t care anymore. He’s not cared about anyone after his wife’s passing.

But something about Gi-Hun makes him have a feeling of care again. Feelings in general. Which is more than unexpected. In-Ho feels as if Gi-Hun is subconsciously offering him a reason to be… good, again. It sounds like something Gi-Hun does. He’s a good friend. A good person. Simply good. In-Ho is not. He’s not the worst, but he isn’t good either.

In-Ho’s stomach tightens. He starts to realize that Gi-Hun is the reason, he’s not able to sleep. That his mind is racing because he can’t stop thinking about Gi-Hun. That he is the one and only reason, he can’t find himself to concentrate. To focus.

That’s how he finds himself walking up to Gi-Hun’s bed, in the middle of the night. He sees him lying there, on his bed, his eyes wide open as if he’s been having the same problem as In-Ho, too.

“Young-il?” Gi-Hun’s voice comes out just above a whisper and he sits up immediately.

In-Ho, Young-il, sits down on the stairs next to the others bed. “Looks like you’re having trouble sleeping yourself”, he says, his expression soft.

Gi-Hun nods. “It’s this place. It’s not exactly a place to feel safe to sleep in.”

In-Ho’s looks up. Gi-Hun stares right back at him. “Point taken”, In-Ho agrees simply. “I could… stay with you?”, he offers.

Gi-Hun is still looking at him. His eyes are never leaving In-Ho’s. Slowly, he starts to nod his head, shifting a little to the left to make some space. In-Ho takes that as an invitation to move up and onto the other male’s bed, sitting down, right next to him. Their hands touch for mere seconds and In-Ho feels his stomach tighten again.

“Thank you.” Gi-Hun seems distant, yet he’s bumping his shoulder into In-Ho’s. Probably as a form of appreciation.

They sit like that for a couple of minutes. In-Ho’s mind is still racing. Wondering if Gi-Hun might be thinking about him, too. He’s determined to find out. He needs to know. Craves to know what is going on inside Gi-Hun’s head. But he stays silent. Instead In-Ho turns his head, his gaze lingering on Gi-Hun’s features he’s now up-close against. It doesn’t go unnoticed and he’s sure he must look like a total creep, making a fool of himself, but he can’t help it.

In-Ho reaches out his left hand, touching Gi-Hun’s knee. He slides it up higher, resting it on his upper thigh. He squeezes him there. Almost as if to let him know that he doesn’t need to be scared in this place. Not here, not around him. Not, when he’s got a whole different plan for him.

He’s waiting to be pushed back. But Gi-Hun allows it. Allows his touch. In-Ho can’t concentrate. With Gi-Hun next to him, so close, he can’t seem to function. He should not allow himself to get closer to Gi-Hun. Can’t allow himself to think about him, about his smile, his features, his body. You’re not supposed to like him like that, In-Ho thinks to himself, you’re supposed to take him down.

But his body and actions are betraying him. He leans into Gi-Hun’s side, feeling the warmth. His hand stays put on Gi-Hun's thigh. Their eyes meet. He spots a blush on Gi-Hun’s face, sees the way his eyes darken. In-Ho allows his hand to slide up further. As if he's testing his limits. He feels Gi-Hun’s breath hitch as his hand reaches his crotch.

He’s barely touching him, yet.

“Young-il”, Gi-Hun’s voice cracks, eyes flicking down to In-Ho’s lips. In-Ho’s gaze is earnest, his jaw clenching. Gi-Hun’s hand covers In-Ho’s, squeezing it tightly.

And that’s all he needs to know. To know that Gi-Hun feels the same. Wants him just as much as In-Ho wants him, too.

With a swift motion In-Ho changes his position, moves to halfway straddle Gi-Hun. He’s hovering above him, draping his arm over Gi-Hun’s shoulder, his hand reaching up to the back of the other male’s head. They’re both drowning in each other’s eyes. In-Ho feels his cock twitch with anticipation.

Then, finally, In-Ho leans in, pressing his lips to Gi-Hun’s. It’s a slow, gentle kiss, in which he feels himself getting lost in. Lost in the way Gi-Hun kisses him back, parting his lips to allow their tongues to touch, tasting each other. The danger of anyone catching up to what they’re doing isn’t something neither of the two seem to care for.

In-Ho relocates his hand, firmly cupping Gi-Hun’s cock through his pants. He’s hard. Much to In-Ho’s surprise, he feels Gi-Hun’s hand finding its way to In-Ho’s very own erection. Gi-Hun’s hand is warm, his touch sending thrills through In-Ho’s entire body.

The kiss turns into something more, something deeper. In-Ho pushes Gi-Hun back and down onto the mattress, remaining on top of him. Their touches are sloppy, massaging each other through their pants, not yet breaking their kiss.

In-Ho’s hand slides around to Gi-Hun’s neck, keeping him pinned beneath him. A tiny moan escapes their kiss, In-Ho’s not sure which one of them even made the sound to begin with. He pulls back, searching for the other male’s gaze.

He gently moves Gi-Hun’s hand from his own crotch, glancing down to the bulge in Gi-Hun’s tracksuit. “Allow me?”, he asks politely. Gi-Hun nods slowly.

In-Ho tugs on Gi-Hun’s pants, pulling them down just far enough to free his fully erect cock. His intuition tells him to go for it, to just suck him off, but instead In-Ho takes his time, kissing and nibbling on Gi-Hun’s neck. He’s biting down on his skin here and there, making sure to not leave a bruise in places anyone else could see. There are other places, he says to himself. In-Ho glances up, to make sure Gi-Hun is still okay with what they’re doing, before he then leans down, finds a spot near Gi-Hun’s hip, sucking on his skin there. Marking him.

Gi-Hun’s hands find their way to In-Ho’s head, tugging on his hair in the best way possible. “Please… Young-il”, Gi-Hun whimpers, his chest heaving with how fast he’s breathing. Oh, how he wishes he could hear him say his real name.

In-Ho doesn’t waste anymore time. Gi-Hun’s cock juts in his hand, already leaking pre-cum. In-Ho strokes him, slowly at first before he picks up his pace. Gi-Hun’s arching his back, his moans muffled as he drags his arm across his face. In-Ho enjoys the sight before him. Gi-Hun giving himself up like that. Allowing himself to be devoured by In-Ho. It’s everything and more.

Without any hesitation, he lowers his head, much to Gi-Hun’s surprise, and wraps his lips around Gi-Hun’s dick. His tongue flicking at the tip, collecting the cum, tasting him for the first time. In-Ho must hold back a moan himself at the taste, his head spinning as he feels his own cock twitching again. Gi-Hun’s hands still tangled in his hair are following the movements of his head.

He continues to bob his head for a moment or two, his own need to free himself and- feel- growing stronger. He pushes down his own pants a bit, feels his cock grow even harder, if possible. It’s thick and pulsing. Lifting himself up, In-Ho finds his way back up to Gi-Hun’s lips, reconnecting them. Their hips are aligned now, their cocks rubbing against one another.

It doesn’t take more than that for Gi-Hun to buck his hips into In-Ho’s, both finding a rhythm they can work with quickly.

“Young-il”, Gi-Hun moans into the kiss, his hands reaching up to keep In-Ho’s face close. “I don’t think I can—” Gi-Hun starts to say, but he’s cut off with In-Ho’s lips pressing to his again.

“Shhh”, In-Ho nibbles on Gi-Hun’s bottom lip, feeling his very own orgasm building. He knows Gi-Hun must be on edge too. “Cum for me.” In-Ho’s words unleash something within Gi-Hun and the next thing he feels, is Gi-Hun’s body trembling as he comes, his cock jerking between them. The look on Gi-Hun’s face trips In-Ho over the edge as well, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he lets go.

It’s chaotic and they’re sweating, but In-Ho basks in his success to have been able to have Gi-Hun let loose and enjoy himself like that.

Gi-Hun still seems to be trying to find out how to breathe again as In-Ho lifts his body off of the other male to give them both some space. He tugs himself back into his pants, facing the mess they created.

“We should go, get cleaned up”, In-Ho says, running a hand through his hair. He licks his lips, watching Gi-Hun sit up to tug up his pants.

“I, uh—yeah”, Gi-Hun stammers, his gaze shifting to In-Ho’s face, his lips, again.

In-Ho catches it, easily, his eyes darkening once more and his body tensing. He’s not done with Gi-Hun, just yet. He still has the urge to touch him everywhere, to really feel him. Completely. In-Ho’s still horny, putting aside the fact that he’s just had an orgasm, he needs more.

He shifts in his spot, then he reaches for Gi-Hun’s hand, dragging him down the stairs with him. The bathroom will surely give them just the right amount of time to be… just the two of them.

[itanglethingsup]

Standing on his own was a scratch, it was kinda scary. Since the accident, Blake had been confided to a bed. He had been immoble, he had sat up within the bed yes, but having the ability to stand and hold his own weight was a scratch, an obstacle he hadn’t overcome yet. All that to say, he was grateful that Melanie wanted to assist and offer her own support to him. An appreciative smile was offered as he uttered ‘ Thank you, I think once i’m on my feet and take more than two steps I’ll be okay. Halstead said I was okay, the tests came back clean.” He was trusting a doctor to be straight with him. Not that Blake wasn’t opposed to having the blonde help lead him outside, he had a cab waiting for him seeing as Melanie had to finish her own shift here. 

“ As much as I do enjoy the view of my favorite nurse here, I think I need to try to uphold no more injuries.” A promise to himself and her with a low chuckle. Blake had leaned his legs down to the floor, the balls of his feet hitting the floor as his feet slipped carefully back into the heels of his shoes. Hand rested on the edge of the bed, while feeling the lingering touch of her hand on his back Standing process on his part. He carefully released the support of the bed as he stood on his feet, carefully taking a few steps towards the clear entry way of his hospital room. His injuries stung, but Blake was able to walk. “ Melanie.. You’re very much spoken for.” i aired out as my body turned to directly face her, a soft smile laced upon my lips, and I fought every urge to touch her face, I left the intimacy within my eyes, the care when I looked at her. “ I’ll try my best to not take as many risks as I did. I can’t promise I won’t get stuck in the crossfire again.” It was a scratch and a chance Melanie might be hurt but the thing was Blake wasn’t the guy to make false promises, he was real and honest, he’d hate the idea of hurting her because of a lie. 

His job was demanding, the risk on a daily, and some fires the heat levels were too high, all at stack, and knowing I’d see Melanie again was enough for Blake, and he hoped for now what we had with each other was solid enough for her.

continued

@irockbluescrubs

It was my nature to get tangled up. It was beyond the risks Blake tended to take. He was the man that climbed up a 12 story building, he was the guy that swung through ropes in order to reach a person in need. You could say he was a daredevil. He had gotten scolded at the start at 51 because of his risk tenacity. Borden was only trying to protect his men; and Casey he was why I was still at 51. He fought for me, and given my story it made sense why I’d go to bat for innocent people. I was only a child when I lost my parents, my sister to a fire. I was on my own. I was the one that had to be strong; I was the one who had to get their life together because I had a life to live. 

I knew the dangers of walking into fires; I knew how to handle the job; and honestly today was a pure accident; but in my eyes a nice one. Because due to my injuries I was now in the same room as this beautiful girl; Melanie, and i felt it that spark i haven’t felt in a long time. I felt that spark you never want to let dim. I knew I was only teasing; the gentle tone in my voice said it all. “ Jello was the game changer, you see I’m a sucker for jello, it’s how I healed myself each time I got sick.” Not that was true; along with a bunch of cold medicine, but he wanted to show the connection why she had him at the mention of jello. Not to mention his attempt to save her from an idiot doctor who simply never got the hint. So now that we made it known we had a jello date; we had to follow through with it right? 

It was easy; to pretend outside these hospital walls the reality didn’t exsit. Gallo wasn’t the guy to flirt easier; and let’s be honest he was probably coming up short with her. But he also felt the blonde was flirting back with him; it wasn’t an idea he convinced himself of in his head. Melanie liked him; it was clear with her next comment; that she’d want to see him again. Now Gallo glanced to the white sheets on the bed as he attempted to conceal the smile that dared to tug along his lips. He was the mess up; he was the guy who fumbled with words, who never said what he felt; but with her; he wanted to test the boundaries. It was wrong; he was a patient in her care nor would he ever want to risk her career; but he also had to tease her on her own remark. 

“ So what I’m hearing is you want to see me again even if I get injured or not, normally we end the first date before admitting you want to see the guy again.” A joke based on the lame movies he’s seen with Violet and Ritter; there was a whole list of films this situation would fit for. Regardless; he’d even tag along with Brett and Violet to deliver paperwork, or do a health check up if it meant he’d see her again. Point was he did want to see her again; where he wasn’t glued to a hospital bed. Once the pillows were done being fluffed; the male had inched himself to lay down, head hitting the fluffed pillows, a lazy smile came to his lips. 

Head tilted to the side; as his gaze was drawn right back to her; her eyes, her smile it came the knots form in the pit of his stomach. He was flattered she wanted to share a piece of her. Why she was a nurse; it made sense. Experiences in life is what dictate our careers; I could say the same for myself. “ I’m happy to hear you haven’t had any more almost injuries; maybe you can sparkle those good sprits on me.” Another joke; as he fought the urge to extend his arm out to her; but that would definitely be seen as crossing a long. 

“ My family died in a fire when I was a kid, my parents my sister, and I was hopeless. I survived, and sometimes it doesn’t feel like I deserve it. It’s why I became a firefighter. Why I will always go the extra mile to save people because a firefighter did that for me. They didn’t give up when my sister my parents were too burnt up to tell a face. They saved me.” It’s who I was; the savior; the guy that will go above and beyond. Lips pushed together to hold any tear that dared to fall at the memory; it was hard to talk about but Melanie she shared a piece of herself; so I felt I could with her. I trusted her. 

Brushing the vulnerable state off; I had echoed out my reply to the jello. “ Do i have anymore test to do or can we jump right to the jello?”

[canisalbus]

I have to ask what drew vasco into falling in love with machete?

His snivelling runt ways were just that irresistable.

[abirdie]

Gael García Bernal in Me estás matando, Susana (2016, dir. Roberto Sneider)

(these gifs also feature Verónica Echegui)

Gifs are all 540px wide so you can click to see larger.

[other gael filmography gifsets]

[green-eyed-prophet]

Bruno was silent their entire trip up the stairs, not only because Makani was also silent, but because he was too preoccupied with his own doubts to try and fill the air with any awkward attempts at conversation.

I'm really doing this. I'm really doing this. It's too late to turn back now. Oh, God. Please, please, please don't let it be anything bad... Horrific possibilities of what the future could've held for Makani flickered through his mind. Death, disaster, gruesome injury... all things he had been unfortunate enough to foresee in too many futures of visions past. He shook his head as they continued to ascend, as though the gesture would help force the dark images out of it. He's so nice. He doesn't deserve any of that. ...Well, no one really does, but especially not him. ...He's been through enough.

Once they had finally reached the top of the stairs, Bruno turned to look at Makani when he spoke, trying to sound much calmer than he felt as he responded to the question.

"...Yeah, pretty much. Just a little more walking." he began to lead Makani forward. "...A-and, um, no, you don't have to help me... I mean- n-not that I don't appreciate the offer-- because I do, but..." he trailed off for a moment, trying his absolute hardest to ignore the pit of dread opening up in his stomach the closer they got to the vision cave. "...The ritual is... kind of my thing, y'know? It... helps me focus more if I do it by myself."

Upon approaching the stone door at the end of the hall, Bruno used his free hand to pull it open before stepping inside the round, dome-shaped chamber, allowing it to slide closed on its own behind the two of them. His sandals clacked against the stone floor as he guided the younger man to the circular patch of sand in the center of the room. "Just... stay here." he instructed softly, releasing Makani's hand. "...I'm gonna get everything set up."

He hurried to the corner of the room, gathering up some supplies he kept stored there, most notably a bundle of fragrant herbs and a few matches.

"...So, um, basically..." he started to explain as he walked back over to where Makani was, taking his own seat in the sand across from the other man and getting to work on setting out four distinct piles of the herbs in the space between them. "...N-Normally, when I do visions like this, other people can see them too. But, um... obviously, that's not gonna be the case here, so... I guess I'll just be telling you everything I see...?"

Once the makeshift incense was laid out, he swiftly flicked one of the matches against the stone floor, creating a small, flickering flame that he then used to set each small group of leaves alight, sending earthy smells wafting through the air of the cave. As if it were a magic of its own, Bruno felt some of the tension instantly fade out of his bones as he took a few deep breaths of the familiar aroma. In. Out. In. Out. Focus. Focus.

When he knew he was as relaxed as he was probably going to get in this situation, Bruno sat back, reaching into his ruana and pulling out a handful of salt. As the final step of the ritual, he tossed the crystals over his left shoulder, finding himself mouthing a silent prayer to ensure even further luck as he did so.

He focused his mind, and felt his magic begin to creep into him, making his skin tingle and his head feel somewhat lighter as his body channeled the power necessary to call upon the future. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, he knew that they had become illuminated with such magic, as he spotted the familiar eerie green color now reflecting upon Makani's face.

...He wondered what the other man would think, if he could actually see Bruno's eyes glowing in such a way. Would he think it was cool? Scary? Strange?

"Just so you know, it... it might get a little intense in here." he informed, reaching out and taking Makani's hands within his own once more. "B-but... I promise you're not gonna blow away, heh." he chuckled nervously, already feeling the air starting to shift around them with the beginnings of his power. "...No one ever has before, anyway."

He took another deep breath, feeling the magic pulsing through his veins, ready to burst out of him the moment he willed it to. However, as he was in no hurry to do so, he continued to keep it at bay, waiting for the go-ahead from his friend.

"...You ready?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

The entire stair journey up (and up, and up, and up) Makani tries to reason with himself. If Bruno is talking, Makani can’t really hear him, all of his focus divided between their hands and his own brain.

He’s just the first man who’s ever been this nice to you, idiot. Watch, this prophecy thing is going to be something horrible, you’re going to leave, and you’ll never see each other again. Not everything is a fairy tale, Makani. Nothing in your life has been, and it’s not going to start now.

Still, he was going to cherish feeling a little special for whatever time he had left here, and if he was a little giddy at the aspect of holding another man’s hand (since Father wasn’t around, of course) then he was going to allow himself to, as long as he remembered this was temporary.

When his foot goes to take another step only to find there isn’t one, he lets out an “oh!” and blinks, putting his other hand on Bruno’s arm.

“Are we here? What do we uh- what should I do to help?”

[emile-hides]

Artists who draw Princess Peach as fat, my beloved

I love when people redesign canonically thin characters as positively fat! And you even draw Mario with a fat body when sadly most artists thinify him. Thank you!

Aaah it's just one of those things I picked up on Tumblr fkjgfjkdg I can't remember who but an artist I followed drew Pudgy Peach and it's just one of those things that really stuck with me. I can't see her any other way now! The Lovely Princess Toadstool <3

Also any artist who draw Mario OR Luigi thin is an instant block those people get no sympathy.