#i think i shall do that. even though i no longer do the Hell Drive.

[utilitycaster]

I think my grand unifying theory of the vast majority of fandom, media literacy in fiction, and social media with strangers interactions really comes down to a lot of people either don't understand or don't accept that once you add humans emotions into the mix there's no such thing as a consistently reproducible result.

Some of this is that two characters' reactions to the same or similar events will not necessarily be the same (this is like 99% of Neve and Lucanis discourse). Some of it is that some characters fuck around and lethally find out and some merely experience unpleasant consequences (this is 100% of Liliana and Essek discourse). Some of it is that a particular type of character is popular within the fandom and a similar one is not, and while you should do a sanity check of whether this is due to prejudice, oftentimes it's the circumstances of the specific character's story, or they're actually quite different but have a surface-level similarity and are being treated as interchangeable when in fact they have wildly different appeals (Fjord and Laudna being a strong example here).

And outside of that, the most vicious anon hate and discourse I've received and that I've seen friends and mutuals receive is a response to one of the two below categories:

Why do you like what you like and not what I like (ie, an inability to accept that some people can see precisely the same show as you do and understand it and dislike things you love or vice versa)

How could I have known that my question would be something you didn't care for (ie, an inability to accept that other people have different feelings and preferences than you)

And really, it's not terribly hard to get past all of the above! But it does require that you accept you're not the center of the world and that other people have feelings that aren't yours and that there's no cosmic universal justice and that people can dislike something without it being bigoted and if you can't do those things it really is a sign you're not ready for, frankly, life as an adult.

[luvzxr]

Little Pougie

Hi! I'm back from a long break. I've been working on this book that originally is posted on wattpad and it's ongoing currently. I wanted to branch out from my previous posts from video games to shows as well.

This story also is originally using my OC's name and I'm not very good with coming up with alternatives to make the story for people who want to use their OC's or their own names. I will do my best though because I also don't like using the (Y/N) stuff but we shall see. anyways, onto chapter one.

Next chapter

01. Kegger

I wish I had stayed at home, curled up on the couch with my hair up in a messy bun and some stupid microwaveable meal on the coffee table in front of me. I wish I never let my older brother, John B, rip me away from the comfort of our own home to come to a kegger, or in other words- a party that I most certainly did not want to attend.

"John B," I tugged the hem of his loosely worn shirt. I've been so uneasy the entire night I've completely forgotten what it means to be content, "when are we leaving?"

"Just a little longer, Poguie. I promise," He gave a soft but playful nudge with his elbow.

'Just a little longer' means we'll be here till daybreak or until I pester him enough to drive me home himself. Time meant nothing to him when a Pouge party was happening.

I was more than eager to go back home and I grew more and more impatient the longer I stood there in hopes John B would change his mind and offer me a ride home of his own free will but that would only happen if hell froze over.

Pouges had no reason to throw parties, they just would and at this point being the sister of one and considered one myself by our peers and friends you would think I'd have no problem with participating but the word parties always left a bitter taste on the tip of my tongue. In what way does a night filled with hammered teenagers and raging migraines the next morning sound appealing?

The time we spent there grew longer and once it hit ten o'clock I couldn't take it anymore and made the utter decision to leave my older brother's side and push past the sweaty bodies and blotched faces.

I was sure that John B would grow increasingly tense once he'd start to realize my absence and after having practically the whole town on a wild goose chase- only to find me safely at home and also find time to lecture me about how I need to stay with him at all times. Yet I couldn't find even just an ounce in me to care about the repercussions of leaving on my own.

Luckily, none of John B's friends were around to stop me from reaching the main road, as everyone I left behind were either trying to find any way possible of getting a free hook up or a free buzz.

All I could keep my mind set on was crashing on the couch and tuning out to either The Vampire Diaries or jamming out to a random playlist of mine on the stereo. To some that might be one of the most boring activities you could be doing on a Friday night but to me it sounded like absolute bliss.

I wanted to die, After what felt like hours of heaving and gasping for air, I had finally reached the house where I could kick off my Chuck Taylor's and crash on the couch with my original plan. But first, I needed a snack because my stomach was probably on the verge of kicking my own butt if I didn't prioritize the next five seconds of finding something to satisfy the hunger.

I make my way to our kitchen, flicking on the light, and began scanning through the different varieties of food held within the cabinets and fridge. I quickly settled with a chocolate pudding cup stashed in the very back of our cabinet that seemed my brother tried to hide so desperately.

"Little Pouge?"

"Jesus!" I shrieked, practically throwing my enclosed pudding cup as a poor excuse for self-defense. If there was an actual intruder he'd probably have already made off with what we had left that was considered valuable.

I relax my nerves upon seeing a much more familiar blonde boy standing in the doorway and not an intruder ready to high-tail out of here with whatever he could.

"Sorry." a sheepish grin creeping on his face, "didn't mean to startle you, Little one."

JJ Maybank is my big brother's best friend since the third grade and he's also one of the very few people I didn't mind stopping by whenever he felt like it and lounge around the house as if he lived here himself. He's been in my life for as long as I could even remember because John B was never without him and ever since our father went missing it was always me, John B, and JJ so that surely helped our bond develop over time.

'Little Pouge' however was a nickname given to me by my brother and his friends. It was something the Pouges wanted to have special for me considering to them that 'y/n/n' was too bland to call me. I don't know a single one of them who doesn't call me Little Pouge or Pougie. That nickname has been with me for so long that even Kooks seem to be catching onto the idea of being referred to as those rather than my birth name.

Many Kooks have tried calling me the nickname's just to get under John B's skin or even JJ's but a lot of the time that ended in the boys beating a Kook to a pulp and the rest of their night spent in a six by eight foot holding cell and the horrible back pains that came with it in the morning when I'd bail them out.

I feel my face grow hot from embarrassment, "What are you doing here JJ?"

"John B couldn't find you so he sent me out looking for ya," he says, giving a curt nod towards the direction behind him, indicating my brother sent him out to hunt me down.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. John B acts as if I can't spend even just a little bit of time by myself anywhere and that I constantly need someone to watch over me like a little kid- I'm not a little kid, I'm a year younger than him, and perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

I let out a groan, "I'm not a little kid, JJ. When is he going to understand that."

He made his way over to me, leaning forward so that he could rest his elbow on the countertop and his chin in the palm of his hand.

"He's just worried about you (y/n). You're the only family he's got left other than our little group as far as he knows." JJ states. "Plus, with all the Kooks at the party too he was worried that maybe one of 'em kidnapped ya."

"Hm."

"Ah Princess, don't be like that. He's looking out for you." He ruffles my hair.

He gave a soft grin before making his way over to the couch, swinging himself over the top and landing perfectly in a comfortable seated position.

Why does he never just walk around the side like a normal person?

Not long after JJ made himself comfortable on the couch is when I decided to do the same thing.

I take a good look at him, at his side profile, the way he clenches his jaw ever so slightly out of pure justification. His father had beat on him so many times he'd probably never have the same jaw alignment as he once had and a part of me wished that I was closer to him than just his best bud's little sister because he didn't open up to anyone, he doesn't allow anyone to get too close to him and in a way I understand.

Being as close to JJ as I was now I could smell the severe alcohol on his breath. It was no secret that Pouges drank, it was more common than you'd actually think but I could only imagine how his liver must have felt and practically beg him to take a break. On top of that, I also knew JJ was into a lot of different kinds of substances. He used those as an escape route, a way to completely make the pain go away for a temporary amount of time before he had to rejoin the rest of us in reality.

He tended to do his best to stay away from pain, choosing to ignore anything and everything that even remotely had the chance to trigger the emotion. He tried to bottle all of it up and throw it out the window as if it had never existed in the first place but like every human being, there comes a time when that glass bottle fills to the brim and then it explodes.

"JJ."

"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow, turning his head towards me to give his full attention.

I paused. He wasn't going to like the question I had in store for him so was I really ready to potentially ruin the small, yet sweet relationship I had with him? Over being a little too nosey for my own good.

I decided against it and just shook my head, "How was the party?"

He tilted his head to the side, his tongue slid between both sets of his teeth and his mouth making the ever so slightest oval like he usually does- He was confused, and rightfully so. This man has been around since before my childbirth and every step after that, it was hard to keep anything from him. That is if he's sober.

Fortunately enough for me, he was not and wasn't the sharpest when it came to being intoxicated. JayJ and his love for alcohol for once actually saved us a conversation that I don't think either of us were fully ready to have. Nonetheless, the question still raked through my mind and I was only hoping that the curiosity wouldn't power through.

Why does he resort to things that destroy him? Does he seriously think that low of himself?

[tickety-boooo]

S1 final camera angle

Ok I literally JUST woke up for the day and this is what was in my brain: the gomens brainrot runs deep. I have to write it out and I shall from the coziness of my bed on a rainy morning :D This is gonna be a longish one!

Been thinking about this thanks to @vidavalor's post. As a fandom we know that Crowley and Aziraphale always position themselves the same way: Zira on the left, Crowley on the right (from our pov).

But wait! What about that final scene at the Ritz? It ends with a zoom-out of the two continuing their conversation: From Behind.

Why did they film this perspective? It's odd given that the rest of the scene is shot from the other direction. It breaks the 180-Degree-Rule, which is a "rule" in filming that prevents confusion for the viewer about where the characters are and what the action is in the scene. If there's an imaginary line between two characters, the camera cannot pass over that line when filming because then the pov changes.

This zoom-out is an example of a "Reverse Cut", it's literally the opposite of what we've seen for the rest of the scene. So why? They could have zoomed out from the table in the other direction, maybe sending the camera through the window for a cool effect.

This is shot this way on purpose. This is like a private viewing for the audience. We aren't in the audience's position anymore, we're in Crowley and Aziraphale's position. The two continue their conversation, which we cannot hear, so it's still a private moment for them even though we're getting a glimpse of it. I have to go back and watch again to really find examples but I think this is the scene that confirms the idea that when in private, Crowley and Aziraphale break their position rule (whether through them physically moving, or by way of the camera and how the scene is filmed), implying that it is something they do for public appearance. Like with this scene, they're still obviously sitting down and in the same place, but now the audience is welcomed into their pov for a moment. We are now part of the positioning outwards to others.

@vidavalor wrote about a footstool near the couch in the bookshop that would put Crowley on the left (in our pov), and that's one of the earliest scenes in the show between the two of them where they are completely in private. Here are some more examples I can think of off the top of my head/ what gifs I could find to use xD

Calling out specifically any time they're in the car; Aziraphale never drives, so Crowley is ALWAYS on the left (our pov), and it's always a private moment between them, no one else around. Look at the scene where they arrive at the hospital and how they get out of the car. They both specifically walk to re-position themselves on the "proper" side. (I can't find a gif of the whole bit but this scene here:)

This scene also has a brief bit where they switch positions again; they're reminiscing about a personal memory, 1941 and the magic show (even though the audience wasn't aware of it yet before s2).

Actually the whole bit at the hospital is very involved with camera angles (it would merit its own post at some point for sure.)

Calling out the Wall Slam™ Crowley on the left, Aziraphale on the right, UNTIL they are interrupted by someone else and the scene is no longer private, and the camera flips position for the rest of the scene.

Also Rome. Oysters. This one's odd, there are two very brief reverse cuts in this scene.

And lastly, this key shot of them going to their respective offices. This one stands out to me because it's not a "private" moment between them, but it shows that their "public" position matches how they have to arrive at Heaven and Hell. Aziraphale and Crowley actively go out of their way to position themselves relative to one another in public in such a way to face Heaven and Hell. And in this shot, we get to be a part of their pov. We get to be on their side.

[hernakedmuse]

Amberline

Disclaimer: This story is going to be dedicated to a very good friend of mine, why she thinks I'm good enough to let me write a character for her, I dunno.

This a Kyle Scheible x OC, there's definitely smut, adult situations, all high school characters are portrayed by adults. There's mention of eating disorder.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Part I

Sacramento High School was no longer a public school.

This year it was changed to a charter due to its very low performance.

To be honest, this town is now poor or rich, and I fall into the latter as my mother loves to remind me. It's why I've been babysitting since I was twelve, and why this past summer I was working at a doughnut stand at a fair, and this school year I'll be working at Blockbusters.

College doesn't pay for itself, and mom made it no secret that she wasn't going to donate one red cent, why should she even though my babysitting and doughnut money go toward the nice apartment we live in and toward her payments for her Lexus she can hardly afford.

I don't even have a car, and does she ever drive me to work or school? No, it's my bicycle or a bus.

She's one of those southern women that always drone on about earning things, telling me life ain't easy and I best get a grasp of that early, especially since I'll be joining the rich kids of Sacramento for my senior year.

Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic High School is so graciously funded by Charlene Sixkiller, my dearest mother. She said it'll help me get to a good school. I'm truly grateful, but I feel so pressured, I feel like school and me leaving at eighteen is all we talk about at home.

I don't even know what I want to do.

Like fuck.

I love writing but my mom says that it doesn't pay the bills. It's a big reason why she won't help me with college, because I'm choosing to be an English Major.

Okay so maybe I do know what I want to do with my life.

I write gothic novels, a cross between horror and romance. I'm not very good at it but I love writing, between that and my diary it's the only way I can actually express myself.

-

It's awkward going to Catholic school and you're not a catholic, mom was brought up southern Baptist, and I hardly know a damn thing about my dad. Although he's probably the same, being from the same area.

I've only been to my mom's hometown of Rocky Mountain, North Carolina five times in my life, and every single time I count the hours for when we return to California.

My dream school is UCLA. It's hard as hell to get into, but going to this school will help. L.A. is far enough from central California where I won't have to deal with my mom again, and besides my dad's there. Maybe I can find him, ask him why I wasn't worth sticking around for.

My alarm clock blared Good Charlotte throughout my room. With a long groan and a painful stretch, I literally threw myself out of bed.

Dragged myself to the bathroom and pulled myself into the shower. I know being goth at a catholic school is going to be a total nightmare, but I was still Gung ho on making a good first impression. I washed my hair twice with the fruity smell of my Garnier shampoo and conditioner. Then massaged my loreal color mask into my waist length black hair before combing it through and clipping it up on top of my head.

My acne is starting to clear up but there's still some stubborn blemishes on my cheek. I washed my face with a morning burst about four times before using the scrub, why did I have to have problematic skin? Between acne, my fat ass and my boobs, I felt like there were twenty signs to point out how much of an ugly freak I am. I still tried though, some days I didn't think I looked bad, but days like today…

I scrubbed my skin with my electric apple lathered loofah until it was red and raw, and then rinsed my hair mask. I turned on the radio and brushed my teeth to the new Red Hot Chilli Peppers song By the Way, my eyes gazed with judgment at my reflection. How shall I fix myself today? I was getting over an eating disorder from last year, this weight is new to me. My doctor said I looked great, but sometimes I see a dancing hippopotamus in fantasia.

I rubbed Ponds onto my face and Bath and body works toasted hazelnut lotion on my skin. I sprayed my Secret powdery deodorant on. Blowing drying my waist length, ebony hair took a half an hour and that was me rushing. I sealed it with my Garnier serum and then did my makeup, far too much black eyeliner just past the point of you have gone too far, and cherry chapstick.

I pulled on my black panties and bra before pulling on the gray pleated school skirt I was forced to wear, I felt like a soldier preparing for war. The white buttoned down shirt was tucked in and I threw on my black zipper hoodie leaving it unzipped. I pulled on black knee high socks and scrunched them down before tying on my doc martens oxfords. I shoved on my many bracelets from a Hot Topic haul and made sure my black, stretchy choker constricted my neck. I brushed my hair down one more time and sprayed on my Victoria's Secret love spell body spray I got for my last birthday. I looked at myself, the kohl making my green eyes pop like I was on something. I wouldn't call myself hideous, just not pretty, not enough.

I wasn't enough for my old friends, when I was found passed out in the girl's bathroom everything changed. Nobody wanted me around, Alyssa and Taylor stopped sitting with me at lunch, and Alyssa started dating my crush Zach. They all acted like we never met.

But I was always the one who brought the least to the group. If I couldn't make it to a Marilyn Manson concert, they still went, but when Alyssa had the flu and couldn't make it to Disneyland, everyone canceled.

I was the one who was everyone's shoulder to cry on, at twelve I taught Taylor how to use pads and take motrin when she got her period, I told Zach he was good at drums, and anytime Alyssa had guy troubles it was me who lost sleep talking to her until 3am on the phone, it was me who bought her Häagen-Dazs and watched her stupid guilty pleasure show with her, Sex and the city, it was me who washed her hair and ran her a bath.

But it was never enough. Who knows, maybe I'm not meant to be happy. It's not in the cards for me I think.

The main reason for starting fresh and going to a new school wasn't just about college. It was so I wouldn't have to see the faces of the people who were supposed to be my best friends in the whole world, and couldn't get off their asses to visit me in the hospital.

I put my headphones and placed my Simple Plan CD into my player and turned it on blast.

Mom already left for work, she wasn't the kind of mother to prepare me a big breakfast for my first day. I grabbed an apple and granola bar and left to go catch the bus, getting catcalled on the way by guys old enough to be my dad.

Getting on that school bus was what you expected, the kids caught a look at the girl with black hair and equally black eyeliner and snicker or get out my way faster than a bat out of hell.

I sat in the very back next to a girl with shoulder length, dirty blonde hair pushed back by a headband that matched her gray school skirt.

She started talking to me, I saw her mouth move but couldn't hear one word. What is wrong with her? Can't she see that I'm wearing headphones? I wanted to ignore her so badly but I could not be rude to save my life. So I tapped the pause button with a black nail and pushed my headphones down before looking at her. "Can I help you?"

She smiled and laughed. "I was just saying you're new, I've never seen you before."

She wanted to bother me for that? I smiled though. "Yes, you're right. How perceptive of you."

The girl just laughed. "I'm Gretchen, I go to Mary's too, what grade are you in?"

"I'm a senior."

"Me too! We're the only seniors on the bus, did you know that?"

Thank you Gretchen for making me feel like such a loser.

The bus ride consisted of Gretchen asking for my entire autobiography. Was she a news reporter or something? All she got out of me was that I went to Sacramento High, which she made a snobby face at, and that I didn't leave behind any friends.

Once we got off of the bus, she didn't leave me alone. She was telling me about everyone who went to our school. I nodded along without paying attention but couldn't find the heart to be mean. I mean she's taking the time to get to know me and be my own personal tour guide.

"Amberline is a really strange name." She said suddenly.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that, I'll change it when I get the chance."

She laughed and I held back the urge to roll my eyes. "I'll just call you Amber, come on Amber I'll take you to morning mass?"

"Morning mass?"

She nodded. "It's a catholic school of course."

I followed her to the chapel, it was all very beautiful and sacred looking. Pairs and pairs of eyes focused on me though, and I noticed boys filing in, which confused me since this was an all girls school. I asked Gretchen about it.

"The boys school shares certain things with us like the chapel for morning mass." Then Gretchen gasped and whispered loudly to me. "Oh there he is!"

"Who?" I asked with confusion, she was acting hysterical.

"Kyle Scheible!"

Walking in the line of boys to the priest was a boy far too handsome to be in high school, but you could clearly tell he is in fact in high school. Is he the usual ghostly pale and manic panic black haired with piercings type I go for? No, he was so much better than that. Something I thought I'd never say.

I can't believe that I can actually understand Gretchen's state of hysteria, but I do.

He has hooded, sleepy looking dark green eyes, with flecks of Hazel, I saw this as he walked by me. His lashes were poetically long and his nose pronounced beautifully. His lips were drawn in a pout that matched his careless posture of hands buried in the pockets of his khakis, which should have taken away how hot he is but it didn't.

His hair, God his hair needed the attention of my fingers combing through the dark chocolate curls. He wore it longish in a poetic way, his lean physique made him look taller, and he has the sort of neck you just know smells so good.

And because Gretchen isn't that great of a whisperer, he did look over. It was a lazy look over at first, like he was used to these whispers of him, which he probably was. But then his lazily droopy eyes popped open and bit when looking over at us. At me.

Oh no, oh God he was looking over at me? I immediately felt self conscious, what if he notices my breakouts? What if he finds my nose strange or finds me annoying looking? It's a catholic school. What if my look was too Crucible for him? Why did this guy who I don't know, opinion matter so much to me?

He looked at me, he really looked at me– Oh God, he stepped out of line to walk over straight to me. I could barely hear Gretchen's panicking, it was just me and him in this place of worship. Someone whispered how Kyle never approaches anyone.

He then stood over me, my eyes widened a bit and a hardly there smirk painted his pursed lips. His dead eyes swept over me, and in a lazy voice he asked, "Do you smoke?"

"Yes."

I don't know why I said it, I've never touched cigarettes in my life and I've only had one beer when I decided alcohol wasn't for me. But for this mystery boy, I thoughtlessly said yes.

"I mean no, I lied, I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that." I said breathlessly. Why was I out of breath?"

Kyle just…smiled at me, it looked foreign on his lips like he wasn't used to it. "What's your name?" His voice was musically calm.

I opened my mouth to answer but I was up next to bite the wafer and sip the wine. I didn't hear from Kyle for the rest of the day.

@meetmyothersouls

[rayons1only1started]

They All Deserved It

TO HELL WITH HIM.

WHY DOES RED TREASURE HIS NAME AND THE MEMORIES THEIR MOMENTS TOGETHER?

Oh right- I'm free. So that does is a did. (heh)

Meh, see if I care. This is, like I said, for revenge. I would have done almost anything for this outcome. Nonetheless, if Red was a bit stronger, I would have a much harder time pushing Red over the edge. 

Well, all that doesn't matter now. His mind is fractured, and he can't do a thing about that. 

And even I'm not sure if anyone can fix that now.

I'll never know, because who would?

Just why does he have to have such a strong mind, when he doesn't deserve it for a second? I would much rather use my voices to make the rest of the Rainbow Friends turn on each other, or drive them insane, or anything entertaining really. But Noooooo. I have to watch Red, and his thoughts, and make his mind worse than it is. 

And I would do that, yes, but the piece of shit has to show up! NO ONE WANTS YOU HERE! And Blue is too soft-hearted, so of course, he is still alive. 

His very presence is mocking me. It's practically saying, you can't finish me off, and you won't, and I know that, so I will taunt you. (Maybe the way Ash said it was a lot less clean)

So now I have to keep all my voices with Red, telling him that everything and everyone is afraid of him or hates him. He doesn't protest this time, thank goodness, but I want to be doing something else. Anything else.

Nothing new happened for the past few minutes, so I can stop concentrating on the voices. They aren't even my real voice, though even I think they are better than it. My real voice is not something that belongs in this universe. 

Why did the son of a bitch have to make me like this? He made me only able to feel anger, made me have these wonderful voices, but my true voice a thing I was repulsed by, made me see inside of others' minds', but only the fears, the traumas, the sadness, the anger, and never anything happy, or kind. I don't know what love is. I just simply don't understand it.

Well, that scumbag did do something right. Made me unable to have mercy. 

Things will get interesting when he wakes up.

I swipe my hand through the air, opening a window for me to look through. That's the only good thing about my dead hand. And it hurts like hell every time I do this. Fuck the human that did this. Saw me looking and took a canister and threw it at me. The canister caught on fire somehow, and ended up on my arm.

Goodbye, arm.

The human who did that regretted it dearly, for hours, and maybe longer if they didn't pass out from blood loss.

Let's just say they didn't wake up.

IN THEIR PAST BODY!!! F_CK YOU DAVIS!!!! AND YOU KNOW I HATED THAT HUMAN! F_CK YOU SON OF A B_TCH!! 

So, naturally, I snapped their spine. Fell unconscious. ONLY FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS!! 

Then I was locked up. (I wOnDEr WhY)

I don't know what happened then, but they weren't around when I was set free.

No use dwelling on the past, and there is so much to look forward to.

So much.

He won't see it coming. He is blinded by his passion. That's why I could see it on him. It's torturing him, ensuring horrible things.

I'm glad Red is in a bad mental state. Davis, the (the rest of the names were deleted), would be very happy to see him. Not in this state. 

I should kill him right now. But what fun would that be? It's so much fun listening to the broken sobs of your victim, lying in a pool of blood. 

The piece of shit is stirring. I'll give him a heart attack.

I want over to the corner, and allow my body to become visible.

This shall be interesting to watch.

----------------------------------------------------------

In case you can't tell, the chapter is written in Ash's POV. And I'm calling 'him' Davis because it's better than his other name.

[deanssexplorations]

Pornstar Hookup

It was an average Monday night and I was minding my own business watching TV with my wife and daughter. It was definitively not a play night. In fact, I was instead looking forward to the next night's date, a friend coming into town on Friday, and a Decadence party on Saturday.

Little did I suspect how the night would end.

About three hours earlier and about 20 miles to the south, Karla sat in a little taqueria, swiping on Feeld. She had flown in from Florida that morning, had the evening free, and was going to be flying back the next morning. She was horny as hell and hoping to make a connection for that evening.

One of her followers had sponsored the trip, they had hooked up, and the results had been, shall we say, less than she had hoped. Hence Karla being horny as hell. Karla is an OnlyFans content creator, which my 57-year old self thinks of as today's equivalent of a pornstar. She has a bunch of followers, puts out a ton of content, and earns her living this way. And she was nominated for an AVN award this year. So yeah, I'd say she's the real deal.

Karla is also insatiable. In fact, you will find her on OnlyFans at InsatiableKarla. She and her boyfriend have a no-rules, anything-goes approach to their relationship, which extends to her interactions with her fans. She enjoys fucking them, and if one of them wants to fly her out, and compensate her for her time, she's more than game.

That morning, after she arrived at the airport this particular follower had an Uber bring her to a lovely hotel in Sunnyvale where he was waiting for her. They had lunch then retired to the room for some sexual play. He was apparently rather inexperienced with very little skills or stamina, and the session had been a bit of a bust. So when he left that afternoon she found herself with a free evening on her hands. And a very unsatisfied appetite.

And I don't mean for the tacos she was munching on. InsatiableKarla, after all.

Meanwhile, 20 miles north and three hours later, my wife, daughter, and I had just finished watching our shows and the family was making its way to their bedrooms. It was about 10:20, and I checked my phone to see if I had any sexy messages waiting for me.

Now is the point in the story where you should be thinking I popped open Feeld, swiped Karla's profile, and started chatting. But that's actually not it. Instead, I saw a text from my good friend and Decadence co-host William, asking whether even though it was late and last minute I was by chance free that night.

William was looking to hook me up. What a guy.

I thought he might be up to something (odd for a Monday, which got my antennae up), but I noticed that the time stamp on his note to me was 8:56, well over an hour previously. And I assumed that whatever he had cooking up had either already happened or was no longer in the cards. But I responded, and he told me he had connected with a woman on Feeld earlier who was in a hotel room and was looking to get down that night.

Unfortunately he couldn't get away that night, and since Karla was in town only for the one night, they were not able to connect. So, acting as the compersionate gentleman he is, he asked if she wanted to hook up with his friend Dean.

[Editor's note: Karla later told me she has a thing for older, bald, bearded guys. She had gotten a bunch of other matches on Feeld, but no one who was really doing it for her. Good thing William and I share some physical traits in common!]

I told him I was indeed down and after he brokered a bit of back-and-forth came the text, "You're in! Her name is Karla and she's staying at the XXX hotel in Mountain View. Very down to play."

Ten minutes later I was on the freeway heading to Mountain View.

Karla and I did a bare minimum of texting during the drive. She gave me her room number and informed me the elevator didn't require a room key. I told her to leave the door open a crack. She asked if she should be clothed or naked when I arrived. I replied "naked, of course."

Of course.

Right around 11:00 I arrived and made my way through the hotel lobby. As I exited the elevator and strode down the hallway I reflected on how different my attitude was that evening than, say, for my date with Blindfold Girl. That situation had been somewhat similar, but was very early in my nonmonogamous sexual escapades. But while on that occasion my heart was in my throat and I wasn't sure if I should be fearing for my personal safety, tonight I was calm, cool, and collected, taking it as a matter of course that I would be soon walking into a room with a fully naked woman ready to fuck my brains out.

As I reached the end of the hallway, I saw the door open just a crack with music emanating therefrom. I entered to find Karla lying on the bed, wearing nothing but an enormous smile.

William is such a star. What a generous hookup he had given me.

Karla is a Latina in her mid- to late-40s with a gorgeous smile and a great body. Sexy tattoos. Tan over every inch of her body, and I mean every inch. She didn't have a tanline anywhere, not even under her tits or in the little crease between her thigh and butt cheeks. I was so excited to see her lying there.

[Editor's note: regular readers know I change everyone's names in this blog, including my own, and never share face pictures so as to protect people's privacy. But on the rare occasion I fuck a sexually-public persona, like my friend Erika Love, I may include their (porn) name and face pictures if they provide permission. In Karla's case she is very public with her pictures and persona, and everything in this blog is shared with her review and enthusiastic permission.]

I had already thought about my opening move. Walking to the side of the bed, my first words were "unzip my pants and give me a blowjob." Like a kid digging into her Christmas presents, she gleefully scuttled over, pulled my already hard cock out, and took the shaft into her mouth.

Karla gave amazing head. She deepthroated like a champ, and not surprisingly I never felt a hint of a tooth the entire evening. She sucked my cock for quite a while, and as she did so I began undressing, after which I pushed her on her back and started fucking her. We fucked and fucked, in a variety of positions. I went down on her, and she sucked my cock some more.

One thing I noticed right off the bat was the strength of her vaginal contractions. I'd say she is tied with my friend Samantha for having the strongest vaginal contractions I've ever experienced. [Editor's note: I'm seeing Samantha next week so I'll have to do a careful comparison. You know, for science.] They started pretty much from the moment my cock entered her pussy and were so strong that on more than one occasion they pushed my cock out entirely.

And she got as well as she gave. Her nipples were extremely sensitive and she was clearly getting off when I sucked them. Proceeding further down her body, she writhed, moaned, and shrieked, even during my slow build-up to her pussy and to clit.

Oh, yes, that clit. [Editor's note: that is a selfie she took literally as she lay in bed waiting for my arrival.]

Not only was Karla tied for the strongest vaginal contractions I've ever seen, but she was also tied for the largest clit I've seen in person. It was easily the size of my pinky and stuck out a good centimeter or so when aroused. It was all I could do going down on her NOT to stampede straight to it and instead force myself to tease her and slowly build up to it. And when my tongue did finally make its way to the grand prize it seemed to send her through the roof.

But that was just the beginning. I fucked her doggy style, she straddled me in cowgirl. She used her magic wand while I fucked her. We took a bunch of pictures and videos, which I've given her permission to use on her site. She certainly won't be using any video from her encounter earlier in the day.

I'm such a gentleman.

The whole time she maintained a dreamy expression with a huge smile, muttering "que rico" over and over. Which she later told me meant "delicious" and I understand to be a pretty common expression for Spanish speakers to use during sex. She was clearly enjoying her release after a whole day of bad/no sex.

Poor, poor Karla.

After a good hour or so, I was fucking her on the edge of the bed and felt the telltale signs of a building orgasm and let it wash over me, letting out my signature loud, guttural vocalizations. After cuddling for a minute we took a break to chat, which is when I learned most of her backstory and about her day. I learned that her boyfriend is her business partner and films most of her content, that Fort Lauderdale is a better place to find swingers than Miami or even Tampa Bay, that she regularly throws MFFFFF parties for her boyfriend while he throws MMMMMFs for her, and that the most guys she's fucked in one night was about 16. At a sex party.

About double my number at one party.

After I got my second wind we went at it again, highlights of which included anal and fisting. We did it all. Well, she asked me to fist her and in fairness I came darn, darn close. But I have a very big fist. And while I'm confident I probably could have gotten it all in had I really tried, and she did really want me to, it was our first date after all and I didn't want to overdo it. I didn't quite get the knuckles completely in. Which I'm interpreting to mean that I've still only achieved "full fisting" just twice (but I just discovered, I've only written about other near-fisting experiences).

Finally, around 1:00, it was time for me to head home. I had an 8:00 am call after all. And it wasn't even a date night! Karla told me she could have easily gone all night, and I completely believe her, but she was at least happy and as satiated as it's possible for her to get. Thanks to our encounter, from a sexual perspective her trip hadn't been a total bust. I told her I'd love to see her again and invited her to a future Decadence party. She said she'd love to do an MFM with me and William (she mentioned DP), and we both agreed her follower should save his pennies and fly her out again.

But regardless of whether we are able to get together again down the line, if nothing else we have that one amazing hookup we can always look back on.

My hookup with the pornstar.

William's amazing hookup.

My pornstar hookup hookup.

(See what I did there?)

[sukirichi]

earned it (3)

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. mentions of murder, explicit smut, oral (m. receiving), mentions of violence, TW dub-con, drama, drugs, mentions of virginity loss, dirty talk, unedited as always

series masterlist

Pained groans filled your ears, coating the dead silent night. Immediately, you sprang up awake, finding your husband clutching his knee beside you. You rushed to the bathroom to prepare an iced compress, helping him sit beside the bed. Naoya breathed heavily above you, his usually slicked back hair falling into soft bangs above his eyes. In this light, the fierceness of his face had smoothened down into that of vulnerability, fox-eyes replaced with a sort of tenderness that partnered his pain.

Looking down at the ragged scar running down his thigh to his knee, the gnarly scar popped from his otherwise flawless skin, you ran your hands over it. Naoya sighed as you kissed the scar gently, rubbing soothing circles over his good knee.

“Does it still hurt?”

“A little,” he admitted. Both of you enjoyed the comfortable silence after that, with you kneeling on the floor as you helped numb his pain, your husband’s fingers looped through yours. Minutes passed and soon, the sunlight streaked behind him from the floor length glass windows, illuminating your dark silhouettes in a golden glow. Naoya’s eyes flickered to the clock on your table, his hands squeezing yours for a fleeting moment. “It’s today. Are you ready?”

No, you wanted to say. You and him had prepared for this moment better than anyone else, and yet, you couldn’t ignore the tightening of your chest. Much like Naoya, you both held wounds that couldn’t be healed by time.

But Naoya looked at you expectantly, soft hands cupping your face as if he immediately read the worry written all over you.

You wanted to cry, wanted to stay in his arms and pretend nothing would go wrong, but you couldn’t do it. Not when he’d saved you countless of times before, and this was your only chance of saving him.

Naoya needed you more than ever – you had to stay strong from him.

“As long as you’re there, I’ll be ready for anything,” you smiled at him, feeling warmth spread all over your chest when he reciprocated the gesture. You liked it on him; he always felt a lot more youthful every time he smiled. Reaching up to kiss his forehead, you trailed your lips down to the ring adorning his fingers to look him straight in the eye. “Always?”

Naoya nodded as a promise, “Forever.”

Your hands treaded through Satoru’s locks, his lips sweet and tender as he tasted you. It had been a few months since your arrangement began, and slowly but surely, little by little, you were growing more comfortable with him. There was still that voice at the back of your head screaming that maybe this was wrong, this was dangerous; you didn’t know him very well – but these thoughts slipped away the moment you felt his lips on yours.

If it was wrong, why did you fit in his arms so right? He felt like home; peaceful, secure, strong and stable. If it was dangerous, why was your heart at peace? If you didn’t know him very well, why did it feel like had always been there, a fragment you’d been unknowingly waiting to build you up in all those lonely years you walked this earth?

You’d definitely underestimated him. The cocky and smooth customer turned out to be the most caring person ever, his kindness showing through the fact he’d never pushed you for anything.

Making out with him was now a daily occurrence, though you never got past the first base. Sure, there would be teasing touches under your shirt, your curious hands trailing over his pants, but it had never escalated into more than that. You could tell Satoru was holding back; the painful tent in his slacks enough proof of this. His hardened cock rubbed against the thin material of your shorts as you grinded against him, earning a harmonious man from the man who’d gotten so addicted to worshipping you.

“Satoru, hmm, baby,” you stopped kissing him, turning to look at where his hands gripped at the flesh of your thighs. A thin thread of spit connected your lips from your heavy make out session, though your mind felt dazed, core burning at the friction. If you could just...

Satoru easily caught on the words bit down your tongue, his calloused hands caressing your cheek to coax it out of you. “What is it, angel?”

“I…Can I try something with you?”

“What is it?” he tapped your cheek, a sweet smile on his face when you groaned in embarrassment, head buried in the crook of his neck. “It’s okay, don’t be shy.”

“Well, you’re always making me feel good and I know you’re holding back so I just wanted to…”

“Wanted to what, angel?” he pulled you back so he could look at your face, his usual teasing grin now hardened into a serious expression. Satoru had always been adamant to put your comfort above all else, his voice dropping an octave lower as he massaged your thigh. “I can’t know if you won’t tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, you managed to look him in the eye, squeaking out, “I want to make you feel good too.”

Satoru’s brows dipped down. “Angel,” he said, that saccharine nickname dripping like honey from his lips. Did he even know how much effect he had over your heart? Apparently not, because Satoru swooped down to steal your breath away, pressing his lips harder to reassure you he respected your limits. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you insisted, hands fisted on his shirt. “Want to taste you.”

Satoru opened his mouth to speak, but you were faster, and for the first time in his life, he did not see something coming. His back hit the wooden headboard as you crawled down on his lap, tugging his pants down to palm the erection bulging from his boxers. His groans were deeply masculine, so fucking sexy coming from him that you rubbed your core against the sheets in desperate search for friction.

Your hands fumbled for his boxers until you completely pulled it down, gasping when his thick member slapped at his toned stomach. His muscles clenched above you, thighs quaking from your ministrations.

Truthfully, you had not the slightest idea of why he seemed so aroused when you were inexperienced at this. You had to keep sending him nervous glances as you placed a tentative grip at the base, thumb swiping the pre-cum away from his tip. Satoru’s head fell back on the pillows, strings of curses spilling past his lips. Fuck, you had no idea how to do this; you just hoped it could be good for him. Deciding to hell with it, you slipped the throbbing member inside your lips, his reaction reflexive.

Satoru fisted the sheets under him, hips thrusting up. The action caused him to buck deep into your mouth until he hit the back of your threat, tears springing at your eyes. You wanted to pull out to breathe until you looked at Satoru, and fuck, did your mind change.

“Goddamn, angel!”

Your boyfriend looked absolutely delectable like this – shirt crumpled and eyes snapped shut from the pleasure. His cock burned in your mouth, and purely out of curiosity, you swirled your tongue around his vein just to see his reaction. Satoru’s blown out pupils met yours the deeper you took him in, his arm reaching out to fist at your hair. It wasn’t painful – he never hurt you even if sometimes you wished he could go a little rougher – but you were determined to evoke more of those pretty moans from him, fighting back the tears that blurred him from your sight.

Your throat would burn like a bitch by the end of this, though that no longer mattered when his composed self fell apart bit by bits. Gosh, you loved him so much; you could keep him in your mouth forever if that could express it.

Satoru moaned the instant you hollowed your cheeks around him, pushing his hands away that moved to hold you. You didn’t want to be romantic; you just wanted to make him cum.

He saw your determination to push you over the edge that he let go, slipping his fingers through yours instead. It shouldn’t have felt so domestic when you sucked him off good, but nothing had never felt more right. You pulled him off with a pop, licking all around the base to coat his cock with his cum and drool. His groans painted the room and he wouldn’t stop squirming underneath you, dulcet low moans so, so addicting.

Other than his moans, you were also addicted by the taste of him. You flipped your head at a different angle before you took him in again, flattening your tongue on the base and making sure to poke hard on the veins. He had a fucked out grin as his knees bucked beside him, his hands keeping you flat on his head.

“Yeah, angel,” he gritted his teeth, “That’s so fucking good.”

Was he coming?

You had no idea, having never done this before. For now, you just wanted to repay all the kindness he’d shown you by sucking him off good that he’d never forget you. You probably cursed him then, conditioned this man into being so addicted to you that he would never even think about leaving.

The mere thought of that had you choking on his cock, driving him back deep your throat. Your nose came in contact with the neatly trimmed hairs on his base as you gagged on his length, nails dug deep into the linen sheets beside you.

One thrust, two more – his cock twitched, then he came. “Right there, angel, fuck!” he spilled inside you, pulling out just in time for the rest to smatter all across your face. You drew back just as his semen painted your face like he was the artist and you were the canvas, and you didn’t think you’d ever felt so majestic in your life. Satoru gripped his cock to smear the contents all over your face, on that day giving you a hint just how much of a kinky little shit he really was, but you let him – because you loved him, and you’d do anything for the one you loved. As you sat there licking away the cum sprayed on your face, he tugged you upwards for a kiss.

You leaned away, thinking he could be disgusted by the bitter taste flowing down your throat, but he paid no mind. He kissed you hard and deep, effortlessly flipping both your bodies until were trapped underneath him, cornered by the love pooling in his eyes. You stared up at him with that same adoration, albeit more hesitant, the pounding in your heart incredibly loud.

You were falling fast – way too fast – that you couldn’t comprehend what would happen if this ended. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if you were still just a baby girl? Were you mistaking his post orgasm bliss with something else, were you getting too ahead of yourself?

Satoru nudged his chin on your neck, his lips hovering right before your ear. You could hear each ragged breath, your attention zeroed in on the deep, long cut that ran on his back. Not really aware of your actions, you slipped your hand downwards to trace the ragged flesh. Satoru hissed above you, his weight nearly crushing yours as he pulled you in for an embrace far too intimate for an agreement purely on casual fucks and company.

At least, that had been your belief, until – “I think…I’m falling for you.”

You didn’t remember any time you had cried harder, the sobs wreaking your chest desperate and pitiful. Satoru kissed your tears away, each peck of his lips translating to a thousand more i love you’s that healed every crack in your soul.

You held him close then, chest to chest, hearts beating above one another. Perhaps it was too early, but you loved him – excruciatingly so it scared you deep to the bone.

“Me too,” you cried, “I love you – I love you, I—”

“Shh, angel,” he cooed, his hands now trailing down your hips. He gripped at it, his cock once again hard as it teased your entrance. You knew what was to come next, and you squeezed his bicep in anticipation, both fear and anticipation exploding through your nerves. Satoru gazed at you warmly as he read the multiple thoughts running in your head, foreheads pressed into one another as he asked, “Can I show you? Do you trust me, angel?”

“Yes,” you answered in a beat, “A million times yes.”

“I’ll show you then,” he laced his fingers through yours, a lopsided grin so impossibly handsome you just fell harder for him. “I’ll show you how much I love you. I’ll make you feel it deep ‘til you never think about anyone else but me.”

Had he failed then? Had he not shown you enough how much he loved you?

You were the same, but the person standing in front of him seemed so impossible to be you, as well. Your once sweet smile had been replenished by a perfectly practiced one, the taut tightness of your lips and the faux charm so sickeningly sweet.

But it wasn’t what he hated the most. It was the fact he was there, holding you right where Satoru once used to, kissing you right on the lips Satoru used to ravish all by himself.

He didn’t know what he was feeling. Anger? Jealousy? Hatred – upon himself or upon you?

He didn’t know, couldn’t understand anything, that he brushed past Suguru’s equally stupefied face and found comfort in the back part of the cruise. Satoru had lost count of the drinks he’d taken from the waiters who had began to look worried, but he didn’t give a fuck. The image of you comfortably situated by that bastard’s side of all people stirred something dark within his chest. Satoru stared out into the dark ocean instead, dumping his drinks with a scoff.

What a fucking joke, he laughed at himself. He believed leaving you would mean protecting you, but life had a funny way of playing its part.

“Mr. Gojo,” an all-too familiar voice, one that was much too sweet and golden for his liking, caught his attention. His eyes slid over to your form, his jaw clenched at how empty your eyes seemed. There was no spark, not a trace of the light he had always loved, and not a sliver of warmth that never failed to melt his heart. It almost felt like it wasn’t you until your perfectly manicured nails rested atop his shoulder, all elegance and grace in your steps – just as he’d expected from the infamous Zen’in wife. “My husband, Naoya, wishes to speak to you.”

Husband. So you really married him.

You spun away from him with a salacious roll of your hips, and just like that, Satoru snapped. This was you, this had to be you – except it scared him shitless this time around because you were the one walking away from him.

It reminded him of the day he left you, dread sinking deep into the pits of his stomach. Satoru reached you in two long strides, spinning you around until you nearly collided on his chest. You glared at him so harshly he might’ve burned to the ground but god, this really was you and he fucking missed you – so badly that his suit felt impossibly tight he couldn’t breathe. You were still warm against him, soft in the places he was hard, and you were, you were there.

You came back to him.

“Angel,” his voice cracked, “I know that’s you, please—”

But your grip was ice-cold, eyes shooting daggers at the offensive hand on your shoulder. “Let go of me before I shoot your arm off, Mr. Gojo,” you sneered at him, the tension attracting the attention of other guests. Satoru could feel it; the burning gaze of passerby’s who’d stopped in their chatter to spectate the scene. “Just because you are invited, doesn’t mean you get to be too comfortable with me. You and I are not friends, much less acquaintances. Let me go.”

It’s over, his own voice screamed back at him, Let’s go.

Right. He left you, and it made sense you couldn’t stand to be around him. With a broken heart, he removed his hands on you, ignoring the slight scoff following afterwards. Satoru trailed after you like an obedient puppy as you led him inside a narrow hallway, unsurprised as two burly guards slid the double doors open.

Inside the grand room sat your husband himself, his good leg perched on top of his bad one. He was in the middle of his drink, cockily clanking the ice against the glass. His cane perched on the other side of the sofa, just out of it’s owners reach.

Satoru wanted to punch his stupid face but held back as you quickly seated beside him, possessive hands on top of his thighs. He took the seat across the both of you, his lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by the turn of events. Though the ocean reflecting the beauty of the moonlight gleamed terribly divine that night, and you illuminated even more radiantly than ever, Satoru felt no entertainment, no joy – just pure hatred.

“Gojo Satoru, the Six Eyes himself. It’s an honour to meet you.”

“You met me before,” he responded stiffly, expecting that Naoya would crack the same way his fucked up father would. But no, he was by far worse, the young man tipping his head back in laughter as if Satoru said the funniest thing.

Beside him, you buried yourself deeper into his arms, absentmindedly sniffing Naoya’s perfume before your shoulders visibly relaxed.

It was clear you trusted this man with your whole heart, though Satoru couldn’t make sense of the attachment. Why him? How did you meet him? Was it right after he left you? How did you wound up in the world he tried so hard to keep you away from? On reflex, Satoru’s need to protect you never wavered even after years, and his gaze trailed down each inch of your exposed skin to look for scars.

Nothing. Not even a single sratch.

And as if feeling his gaze on yours, you smirked back at him smugly, that damned smile reminding him that your husband was more than capable of – what he couldn’t do – protecting you. It was such a harsh slap to his face because Satoru was most evidently the most powerful man in the room; he had more connections, had been in this world long before he walked, had more experience and bloodlust than anyone else, and yet...he couldn’t keep you.

“Indeed, and it wasn’t such a great experience, was it?” Naoya’s voice kept droning on, waving a slender hand in the air. “This is what this party is for. I hope to alleviate any tensions my father may have caused between other clans,” he nodded at the untouched drink in front of Satoru, “Please, enjoy yourself. I only wish to discuss something about Xenet with you.”

“Xenet? You mean the drug your family tried so hard to keep to yourselves?”

“Yes, that. My father…was too prideful with his creations. He didn’t want to share what was his,” Naoya smirked to himself and leaned back into the chair, with you following the motion. Satoru fisted the couch so hard he might as well break it, unable to tear his eyes away from the comfortable way you rested on Naoya’s chest, blinking up innocently at him as you did so. Your husband paid you no mind, seemingly way too used by your affectionate gestures that he continued, “But I am not my father. I care about good connections and profitable business. I think if you’d let us borrow your manufacturing base in Osaka, we could supply you with Xenet to last a decade. Free of interest.”

“And what makes you think I want to have your little drug? It’s just an ecstasy pill.”

“That’s what we want you think,” you piped in, keeping your gaze averted from Satoru’s, shooting little kisses down your husband’s jaw instead. “Xenet is no ordinary drug. It was made with the intention of just making more bougee version of aphrodisiacs and poppers at first, but we found a much more…offensive approach to this,” you trailed off, eyes glistening with mischief.

It was alien – the look on you didn’t feel right. You had changed; his angel was no more.

“Xenet, once manufactured publicly, could even help us grow richer with how affordable it is. Other than the side effects of increased sexual drive and giddiness, it’s also strong enough to be a ticking time bomb,” you announced proudly, “Consume two a day and you might die from a heart attack.”

“So it’s a failed pill.”

Your eyes narrowed at his implications, reminding him that even though you may no longer be his, one thing had not changed: you were still that top student in your Chemistry class. How else could you have saved him from getting poisoned on that day? But now, you used your intelligence differently, marrying mafia leaders, creating drugs.

“I did not create failures.”

Satoru should hate it. Hell, it was wiser to steer clear from you, yet you’d never been more alluring. Your innocence and vulnerability from when you were younger had definitely aroused him in more ways than one, his mind often occupied with the different ways he could get you to cry for him. However, this version of you, the one who had risen from the ashes and flew around like a magnificent surrounded by your own burning flames – it would be a lie to say he did not find himself fascinated by your maturity.

Seven years really changed you.

“You mean to tell me,” he leaned forward, “That you’re basically asking to borrow my base so you can make suicide pills? Is that it?”

“Xenet is only dangerous when consumed in larger doses. But taken regularly, it actually boosts your health, clears your mind. It’s like a super vitamin. It makes you feel…well, on the top of the world. Makes you feel powerful.”

“Death is not the catch,” Satoru concluded from Naoya’s lilting tone, glaring at suspicious man who was staring at his drink in so much glee. He really was fucked in the head – what did you like about this guy?

“What’s your true reason behind this?”

“I want my relatives dead,” Naoya deadpanned, “Before we turned to illegal business, the clan stocks were debated to be passed either to me, or my cousin, Toji. He’s changed his name to Fushiguro now and even had a kid, but he can’t hide forever,” he lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug, and finally, Satoru started to see glimpses of Naoya’s psychotic father through his eyes. Naoya grinned at nowhere in particular, rubbing his hand over the matching rings you wore, the sinister grin he wore uncannily similar to something Satoru had witnessed years before, though he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. “He’s not going to take what’s mine.”

Satoru scoffed, “Why do you think I would be interested in your family issues?”

“Because that cousin of mine is the only one who’s ever gotten successfully close into killing you,” Naoya snickered, “Remember? Shibuya, 2007? He was still inexperienced that time too. We don’t know how powerful he is now.”

“That fucker went after me for no reason.”

“Money is always his reason,” Naoya explained, “You see, my father was not the real clan leader. It was Toji’s father, my uncle, but he died of lung cancer and my father invited himself to the throne. He wanted everything to be ours, so he kicked my cousin out, leaving him nameless and penniless on the street. He was desperate to survive and—”

“—and became an assassin instead,” Satoru finished for him, to which both you and your husband nodded. You were taking your trophy wife duty seriously; keeping in mind to never interrupt your husband as he spoke. Satoru did his best to not pay too much mind to you, focusing on the looming threat of Toji Fushiguro present. “Let me guess, he was sent to kill me, failed miserably, and now he’s after your money? Why would he be interested in taking the mafia business when he seems fine enough being a hitman?” Satoru urged, “He looked like he enjoyed it.”

Much to Satoru’s surprise, Naoya slammed his glass down on the table, slapping his knee as he howled in laughter. “You are really as humorous as they say, Mr. Gojo.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“Because from what I heard, Toji did not fail miserably,” you mumbled through Naoya’s neck, that grin of yours mocking as your lips trailed down his skin. “The scars on your back – you almost died that day if you weren’t saved by your guards, didn’t you?”

Oh, Satoru mused, two could play this game.

“And how’d you know I have scars on my back, sweetheart?”

Knowing he had you cornered, you scowled. You turned away from him and clutched Naoya’s biceps to soothe your wounded pride, but Satoru knew he’d most definitely hit a nerve. It was low, utterly petty of him, to be exact – but he didn’t care. Right now, his determination to win you over just grows stronger, but Naoya merely chuckled at your exchange, the fucker maintaining his eye contact with Satoru’s while kissing the top of your head.

“Darling. Don’t get too worked up. He’s a friend now.”

“Said who?”

“Said me,” he announced confidently, “My cousin may be ruthless, but he’s not as heartless as I am. He’ll do anything he can to sneak his son within the family ranks and make him clan leader. Toji may be fine living in the streets, but he wouldn’t want the same fate for his son,” Naoya rolled his eyes boredly, “He loved his pathetic wife so much that he’s burdening himself with the promise of securing their child’s future. He’s not going to stop until he finds me.”

“And where do I fall into all this?”

“Toji can’t kill me,” Naoya brought to light, and Satoru noticed the faint change in your face. You looked grim, empty faced from anxiety. “Nearly 40% of our all our money – including where our gold is stored – you do remember stealing that, don’t you?” Satoru shook his head, too distracted by your sudden silence. “You made the mistake of taking what was not yours, Mr. Gojo. It may have been just a disposable slush fund to you, but everything that account had, those were all Toji’s last remnants of his wife before she died. He kept all those money for his family, and you took it away from him,” Naoya leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, smiling through the drink he downed in one go. The sound of the glass setting down on the table was much similar to a final judgement – the dilemma hitting Satoru right in the face.

“Now unless you cooperate with us, I can’t guarantee you’ll be living for the next ten days. He’s in Tokyo right now, and from word on the streets, he’s looking for the Six Eyes.”

“I don’t have that money with me.”

“Right, because you transferred it to my wife seven years ago, right?” At his words, Satoru froze, peering at you for confirmation. However, you’d made yourself smaller, almost shaking while different memories replayed right before your eyes. Satoru wanted to come and wrap you in his arms, to tell you it’s okay because he couldn’t understand why you were trembling so much, but Naoya’s taunting felt too loud and clear. “You wouldn’t want her to die now, would you? It’s going to be a tragic story of Romeo and Juliet, two fallen lovers sharing their last breaths,” he added bitterly, “That account wasn’t activated, you fucker. Everything may be wired to her, but she can’t open it unless you complete the authentication. Now do everything I ask of you and—”

“Naoya,” you finally snapped, “Don’t.”

“Is it true?” Satoru pressed, feeling his heart crush harder in his chest. “You never got the money?”

Your face said it all. “I didn’t.” So it was all for nothing – Satoru had left everything for naught. This whole time, he thought he was doing the right thing, but it was nothing, fucking nothing, utterly useless.

He left you for no valid reason.

“Why my drug base of all places?”

“It’s the biggest running establishment. Besides, you’re a lot more influential and richer than I am. No one would dare step a foot inside while I take over the business, hm?” Naoya challenged, “Xenet’s side effects also include languidness that leads to submission. I simply want to have more control over my people.”

“You’re going to manipulate this entire fucking country.” It wasn’t a question – Satoru had really made sure this guy was fucked in the head, and he thought he was awful.

“I’m not that different from my cousin,” Naoya retorted, “We’d both do anything for money.”

“And you’re using your wife as a pawn to your sick game?”

Naoya remained unaffected by Satoru slamming his palms down on the table, standing in his full height in an attempt to intimidate him. However, your husband merely raised a brow, taunting him with a smirk. “Was I the one who caused her hell all these years by making her a target to all your rivals?”

Things escalated faster than you saw it. One moment, you were cuddled with your husband, the next, Satoru had him by the collar. Naoya refused to show the pain from when his bad knee bumped into the table, enraging the taller man with his endless goading of how Satoru threw you to the side for nothing, calling him useless, pathetic, weak. You stood in front of both of them and pushed Satoru hard enough he fell back into the seat, glaring at you from where he fell. “That’s enough!” you bellowed, protectively encasing Naoya in your arms to steady him. His grimace told you he was in a lot more pain than he let on, and you snatched his cane to the side, screaming at Satoru with so much anger it shook the walls. “Fuck you, Gojo! You need to leave!”

“You’re fucking sick,” he spat at Naoya, “You’re a thousand times worse than your old man. You’re just using her to protect yourself, you fucking coward—”

Your palm resonating with his cheek stung. Satoru was rendered silent from the burning sensation on his face, the flesh still hoarse while you shook in anger. “Don’t you fucking dare speak to him like that.”

“Why are you with this guy?”

“As opposed to being with you?” your anger thundered, “You need to leave, Satoru. I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

“Escort him out,” said Naoya as he caressed his knee from the couch. His voice did wonders in calming you down, those three simple words for him regulating your breathing. As if a switch had been flipped inside you, you grew demure, exchanging a thousand words with your husband in just one glance. “You and I will talk later.”

Just like that, you gripped Satoru by the arm and pushed him out the door. He would’ve been happy by your touch, but your nails dug so deep in his suit he actually hissed.

You both didn’t talk until he’s made it through the speedboat that he came in, Suguru already giving you privacy with his back turned. Not that it would change Satoru’s behaviour much because he’s weakened by you again, eyes pleading as he caught your wrist. “Angel,” he whispered, his demeanor far too pitiful for a powerful man like him. Only you – only you could make him this way. “Are you really happy with him?”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” you answered, effectively breaking Satoru for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. Because he loved you, and with loving you came knowing you – he knew there was no lie behind your statement. “I’ve had a taste of hell before, and now I’ve found bliss in my heaven.”

“You’re lying,” he tried to convince himself, shaking his head to get rid of the pathetic tears. “That’s not true, you said you loved me – that’s our promise, right? I’ll get you back, angel. I’ll protect you this time around I – I’ll do everything I wasn’t able to do before. Please. I need you back.”

“Good luck with that, Gojou,” you smiled, but nothing about is happy. In fact, you looked hopelessly, perhaps just as devastated as him. “Time is ticking. One of us is going to die soon.”

It had been three long gruesome days since that fucking cruise party. You were glad to have finally returned home – and yes, you did have a happy home now – but it just felt different when the spot beside you was empty.

You flopped down on your king-sized bed, legs kicking up in the air as you talked to Naoya through the phone. He had business to attend to overseas, leaving you all alone in the Zen’in Estate because he was going someplace dangerous. Though you assured him you could handle yourself just fine, your husband wasn’t having any of it. He shut you up with a kiss and left not long afterwards, so now you had to settle for hearing his voice.

“Have you arrived?”

“Yeah, plane just landed,” his voice that turned gentle only for you crackled through the other line, sounds of shuffling and clinking heard before he spoke again. “Are you in bed already?”

“Hm.”

“Bet you look so fucking pretty right now,” he teased, “You gonna touch yourself at the thought of me while I’m gone, princess?”

“You know my fingers could never compare to your cock.”

“You’re so dirty,” he chuckled back, and your laughter mingled. It was so easy to laugh with him through mindless conversations to kill the time; the two of you acting like the world around you wasn’t burning. “When I get back from Shanghai, I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk.”

“If you do that, I won’t be able to hang off your arm prettily in your events.”

“We can always cancel them, princess. I don’t mind spending the entire weekend in bed with you.”

“Naoya, stop,” you buried your face in the pillows, giggling like a schoolgirl while your husband chuckled. You could hear him ordering his favourite drink to the stewardess and for a moment, you grew jealous, thinking that maybe his servants would be pretty. Then, you remembered – Naoya hated every human being in this world with your exception – you had nothing to worry about.

“You like it when I talk to you this way,” he mused, and you made no move to deny. “So about our anniversary—”

You lifted your head from the pillow as you heard the bell ringing, which was odd because it was half past midnight already. Most of the servants had long retired into their quarters right now, the entire estate on heavy lockdown too. The only person who could arrive was probably a special parcel, and you eagerly hopped off the bed, tying your silk nightgown to make yourself modest. “Oh, hey, I think my package arrived. Someone’s ringing.”

“Is it the Louboutin I got you?”

“I hope so!”

“Have fun dressing up then,” you could hear Naoya’s smile, “Send me photos okay? No undies.”

“No undies!” you agreed, swiping end call before you rushed to the front doors. Gosh, one of the worst things about living in a manor was that you had to take three flights of steps down, the lights in the servants’ wing already turned off so you had to open it yourself. “I’m coming!”

Taking a few seconds to compose yourself, you swung the door open, ready to finally get the shoes you’ve been gushing to Naoya about for days. But you were met with nothing but a tuft of white hair, blood smattered on his cheeks, and lips crashing down onto yours. Satoru pinned you against the wall in the same manner he held you on that day he left, his kisses harsh and longing while you moaned into his mouth, legs turning into jelly.

“Angel,” he rasped into your mouth, grinding his boner to the thin material of your night gown. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

taglist OPEN: @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @friedghostspyathlete @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @greysoulthings @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn​ 

ALSO GUYS!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ANON WHO MADE THIS NAOYA X READER DOODLE IM CRYING SO MUCHHHH I LOVE IT SO MUCH I AM LEGIT SPEECHLESS LIKE YOU GUYS? ARE? AMAZING?! ANYWAYS I FINALLY FINISHED THE ENTIRE PLOT OF THIS SERIES AND WELL...I mean, I hope you guys are excited for this as I am, hehehe!! I take back my former note that this was going to be angsty. I think this is more of drama tbh but we’ll see how it goes! (side note...IM IN LOVE WITH THIS FANART PLEASE.)

[missymurphy1985]

The Writer (Tommy Shelby X Fem.Reader) - Part One

Warning - SMUT (eventually)

Request? Yes

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @heidimoreton

You looked in the mirror, straightening out your dress and taking a deep breath. Your boss David, who also happened to be your older brother, had arranged a meeting with you in the offices of the Birmingham Herald at 6pm sharp.

On the way there, you couldn't help but marvel at how you'd ended up here. Your husband had died two years after returning from war having suffered severe injuries, and after you'd taken on his job at the Herald while he was away fighting, falling ill on his return and subsequently dying, your brother, the editor, had kept you on so you weren't destitute. It was against all the principles of the time, a woman working, but your brother never once allowed the other men at the newspaper to talk down to you. You were the best storyteller and strongest journalist they had on the books and he would always have your back. The other men had grown to look at you as a sister almost - you were blessed to be in the position you were in.

Arriving at the Herald, you made your way to David's office.

"Y/n, I'm sorry to call you in this evening..." He smiled, embracing you and offering you a whiskey which you gladly accepted.

"I never have evening plans David, you know that. What was so important it couldn't wait til morning?"

"We've had an incredible offer and I want you to be the one to report it. The story is made for you."

"What is it?"

"Thomas Shelby has agreed to an article on his life to date!"

"Thomas Shelby? As in the Peaky Blinders?! Not a fucking chance David..." You recoiled in horror. You knew the man's history very well, you'd gone to school with his younger brother John and the stories of the Peaky Blinders were infamous. You hated the man - the thought of interviewing him mad your stomach turn.

"This story could launch your career into the big time Y/n! Think about it! The most secretive, elusive man in the country wants to tell his story to you!"

"To the Herald."

"No, y/n, to YOU. He asked for you. By name."

"How the hell does he know my name?" You'd written your articles under a male pen name so as not to distract readers from the content. Not all men were as modern as your brother and coworkers.

"No idea, but he specifically asked for you."

You mind turned - no one knew you worked at the Herald. You'd kept yourself to yourself, even moving out of Small Heath after your husband passed away. You'd lost touch with John just before he went off to war. There was no connection to the Shelby family at all.

"The reason I dragged you in at 6pm is because he wants to make a start today. This evening actually, there's a car picking you up in 30 minutes."

"David!! I can't do this interview for goodness sake, I'm not even close to prepared!"

"You have 30 minutes! Pull your finger out!" He laughed.

You'd crammed as much as possible in that 30 minutes as you could - your mind was whirring at 70miles per hour when the silver Bentley pulled up outside. Glaring at David, who simply smirked in response, you got in the car as the driver greeted you.

"Arrow House ma'am, won't take long to get there," the driver smiled as you asked him where he was taking you. Arrow House? His home? Why would the most secretive man in Birmingham want to meet you in his sanctuary?

************************************************************

Pulling up outside the huge mansion, you couldn't help but be impressed. The gardens were immaculate.

A middle aged lady greeted you at the front door and offered to take your coat. You smiled and handed it over, as she led you through to the dining room. You took the seat she offered.

"Would you like some tea Ms. Y/L/N?" You nodded, and she signalled one of the younger maids to action.

"Mr Shelby will be with you in a moment, please make yourself comfortable," the lady smiled warmly and headed out the door with your coat. You looked around the room. A large painting on one wall of the man himself with a large horse. There was a smaller picture on a cabinet just underneath that caught your eye. A beautiful blond woman, with piercing eyes and a loving smile, holding a small boy in her arms. You didn't know Thomas was married, let alone had a son. The house didn't seem to have much of a feminine feel to it though, it was borderline drab in its decor.

"My wife, Grace. And my son Charles." A voice behind you startled you, and you turned to see Thomas himself walking towards you, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

"She's beautiful, Mr Shelby. And your son is adorable," you smiled, but he didn't return it.

"She certainly was." Your eyes grew wide as the realisation of what he'd said sunk in.

"Oh I'm sorry -"

"No need. It was a long time ago. Shall we get this over with Ms Y/L/N?" You nodded and he led you out of the dining room into a smaller one - clearly an office. The large oak desk sprawled out in front of the bay window. You took your seat opposite his at the desk and pulled out your pen and pad as he poured himself another whiskey. You shook your head when he offered you one, drinking the tea the young maid have brought in to you instead.

Your questions for him were simple at first. You asked about his childhood in Small Heath. His schooling. His childhood friends. Pretty much all one word answers, driving you insane, until you asked about his brothers.

"You knew John, didn't you?" He asked.

"Yes. Same year at school."

"Sadly, he's no longer with us. Shot by the Italians last year." You heart dropped - you heard through the grapevine that John had children and a wife and the news hit you like a freight train. You took a breath and a moment to compose yourself.

"I'm so sorry Mr Shelby..."

"I'm sorry too, I didn't realise you were so close?"

"We were close before the war. Lost touch after that."

"I don't remember seeing you with him?"

"My father wouldn't let me see him, so we had to be careful.."

"You and John were..."

"No no.. god no! Just friends Mr Shelby." He went quiet again, and sipped his whiskey.

Back to the questions. Mundane as they were, you needed them to get the full story. He wasn't forthcoming with the details. You had to really press him, but he spent most of his time drinking his whiskey and looking out of the window at the dark clouds rolling in outside.

"Listen, Mr Shelby, you clearly don't want this any more than I do so please, if you don't mind, I'd like to end the interview here." Your voice was stern, patience had officially gone out of the window he was so fixated with.

"Jack said you were feisty." You froze at mention of your late husband's name.

"How did you know Jack?"

"We served together in France. Good man."

"Is that how you knew my name?" He didn't answer, just nodded, again watching the weather changing quickly outside.

"Storm looks bad."

"If I leave now I should be fine." The first rumble of thunder made you jump, Tommy noticed your fear instantly.

"Scared of storms?"

"They used to scare Jack.." a second rumble had you grasping onto the chair.

"Stay until it passes." Was that a request or an order.. you weren't sure but he took your hand gently and led you into the hallway away from the window, into the main dining room again.

"Frances, have the curtains closed please." He spoke to the older woman who greeted you at the door and she dutifully obliged, closing the curtains in the large windows.

Tommy sat you at the table and gave you his glass of whiskey, your shaky hands accepting it this time. Every thunderstorm brought flashbacks of Jack's terror filled eyes.. his anguished cries of pain.. and ultimately the sound of the gun he placed at his temple before he took his own life. You took a sip of the warm liquid as Tommy sat beside you, a fresh glass of his own in his hand.

"Jack saved my life."

"He did?"

"Yes. We were underground digging.. we could hear the Germans on the other side of the dirt digging towards us... They broke through first and grabbed me. Jack beat them to death with his hammer to get them off me." Tommy's memory made you smile, and you laughed gently.

"He was always brave.. and strong. Put everyone else first. He never told me.."

"He never wanted praise, it was just part of his job. In return.. I said if anything happened to him I would make sure you were looked after."

"What?"

"The men at your office? They're under my watch. They respect you because you're a damn good writer, but they also know if they gave you any shit..." He raised his eyebrow and you couldn't help but smile. Even after his death, he was making sure you were okay. That was the Jack you wanted to remember.

"In that case Mr Shelby, I thank you."

"Call me Tommy eh? Here's to the bravest man in France." He clinked his glass with yours and you felt him almost begin to relax.

"I noticed a piano in the hall - do you play?"

"I did as a boy. My mother was a keen player, I used to watch her all the time. Gave it up after she died."

"I played for Jack all the time. It soothed him when he couldn't sleep." He smiled, a warm genuine smile that you couldn't help but return.

You'd spent the evening drinking whiskey and talking with Tommy, the whiskey hitting you much quicker than it did him, and you could feel your eyelids growing heavier.

"I have a spare room upstairs y/n, maybe stay tonight, I'll have my driver take you home in the morning." He stood before you had chance to argue and you followed him up the stairs.

He led you into a beautiful bedroom, the decor in here much more appealing than downstairs and the large oak double bed even more so.

"I don't want to impose Thomas..."

"That storm isn't letting up any time soon, and you're exhausted. You're welcome to stay. There's fresh clothes in the wardrobe. My wife was the same build as you, they should fit. I'll have my driver take you home at 7am. Goodnight Y/n..." His blue eyes lingered on yours a moment and you felt a rush of something you hadn't felt in a long time... Scaring you. Quickly looking away, you bid him goodnight.

[mayaflowerxs]

hi there! can you do nsfw a-z for hendery? thank you! <3

NSFW Alphabet w/ Hendery

Warning: Smutty!

A/N: Thank u for the request hope you enjoy!

Aftercare:

He’s alllll for aftercare. Even if he’s not there with you and are doing phone sex he still does it. He’s asking you if you’re okay, to go get cleaned up, get some rest, eat and take a few minutes to yourself. If he went too hard on you he tends to stay with you whether it’s on the bed cuddling or just flat out following you to make sure you’re not having a hard time walking or doing any other activities that’s requiring you to move. Your safety means the world to him so even when you tell him you’re fine he won’t stop budging. At one point I can see him brushing you off and sending you to the couch or bed while he cleans and fixes the place up.

Body Part:

Not really a body part but he loves your hair. He loves tugging your hair just as much as he loves his being tugged.

Cum:

In any hole really. Hendery is just a sucker to see you full of him. He doesn’t like it splattered on you because he’s convinced it’s being wasteful and he may or may not have a breeding kink 😶

Dirty secret:

He has an oral fixation. Like the dude is literally in love with eating you out and sometimes it can get too much for you when you two get intimate. He can’t help it he loves it so much but won’t show it because he thinks you might get annoy of him constantly attacking your pussy :( so when you two do get handsy he seriously does not hold back at all. If he gets to a point where he has you practically sobbing then so be it but he’s not going to back off until he’s for sure done with you (if that’s what you’re into)

Experience:

I see him as experienced. Had a partner here and there and definitely went past making out. But oh boy they just didn’t hit the way you do. Everything he always wanted to try out was with you which is why it’s all the more special. Because you’re so accepting that he grows more and more confident in pleasuring you.

Favorite position:

Definitely doggy and cowgirl. He needs to be in charge. Now when you’re in cowgirl he never once has you think you’re in charge. I see him as one who’s very dominant behind all that goofiness. He’ll have you leaned down on his chest, an arm around your neck and the other around your waist as he relentlessly pounded into your fucked out cunt. Not holding back until every last drop is deeply stuffed in.

Goofy:

Okay he’s definitely goofy in the beginning. He’ll crack a hole here and there and overall just make it all the more comfortable. But as soon as the first moan leaves one of your guys mouth he’s inner dom comes out and no more Hendery now you’re face with Kunhang.

Hair:

Honestly it’s one or the other. No I’m between he’s a pretty confident man so he won’t worry whether he still keep it nice and trimmed to bare. If he wants to leave it as is he will and same goes for you. He literally does not mind what you do with your girl down there as long as he’s stilling tapping it it’s literally all that matters to him smh.

Intimacy:

The only time there’s real intimacy is if you two have been away for a long time. Missing you so much just as has him wrapped around you the entire time. And when you two are climaxing he’s pressing kisses to your shoulder, temple, lips anywhere silencing telling you, you did a good job and he loves you so so much.

Jerk off:

Oh yeah. He does it quite often. The boy literally is a puppy who grew attachment issues. He tends to miss your touch and presence and eventually that longing turns into sexual frustration that he just can’t tame. Kinda surprised how he still hasn’t been caught cuz of how often he does it especially since he shares his room. He loves to jerk off with you, so phone sex is a must.

Kink:

The biggest breeding kinker. Bondage. Those are his go to but he’s up for anything. Nothing is ever a routine when it comes to him he always has to try something new, nothing to big of a new but just something to spice things up. So things like choking, he grew fond of that as well. He also tried using ice but it only irritated him because the ice wouldn’t stop sliding down so that was a big turn off for him which only resulted in him taking out his frustration on you, annoyed that it didn’t work out to well but hey you didn’t mind. You got fucked by a frustrated Hendery that’s a pretty win win for you.

Location:

Okay hear me out, Hendery is literally in denial when it comes to this. But the man can literally do it ANYWHERE. Just with the right amount of edging and or sexual tension is why gets him to snap. Usually when his mind isn’t going fuzzy and he’s not in a lustful state he won’t even think to the idea of taking you in a public restroom. Or fucking you in the car in a parking lot filled with other cars. But as soon as you begin to tease him or whisper him how much you need him he slowly starts turning into the dommy man you oh so love just like his regular self and before you know it you’re coming back home with a slight limp.

Motivation:

How lost you get. You will be minding your own business but won’t notice how every move you’re making is a bit more seductive to Hendery’s eyes. He snaps as soon as you flash him that ‘innocent’ smile at him and that’s when he has you pinned. He also loves how confident you get, when you’re in the mood you don’t hold back. Already on a mission to tag Hendery’s whereabouts and pounce on him. Seriously ends up falling more in love with you when he’s all of a sudden gets dragged away from his activities and pushed onto a surface to lay or sit on. Biting his lip as you begin to attack him in kisses. Yeah he’s a goner right then and there.

No:

Honestly Hendery says no to anything he considers not that fun or interesting. Like the ice, won’t ever do that again what a waste of time and ice.

Oral:

My god YES. He loves you sucking him but usually he gets impatient because he’s the one who wants to eat you out. Might get a bit selfish because you like oral too so he might take up your time just so that he gets to work on you. The boy literally loves eating pussy he can go for hours and not get tired. Though eventually it gets too much your hands are pushing at his head and legs desperately trying to shut, hot tears running down your cheek by how sensitive you’re getting. Close to seeing spots.

Pace:

He has a good pace. Not too fast or slow, doesn’t stop often nor does he pound into you continuously without break. He knows exactly what pace to go which is right in the middle of it all which is what gets you to cum hard. His pace reflects on his thrusts and stamina and when all three come together he gets his baby happily pleasured which is all that matters to him.

Quickies:

Into it definitely. Hendery is overall a sex addict. That’s the truth. And the thing is he does good when you’re not around, for some time. But once your in view, in arms length or just the mention of your name is an instant click in his brain to desperately fuck you to tomorrow. Always before practice, after concerts, before grocery shopping. Hell he might even drag you to the bathroom and fuck you while you two were in the middle of shopping. He’s all for it and he’s not ashamed of it.

Risk:

Doesn’t give a fuck. Quite frankly he wishes someone catches you two in the act. Just the mere thought already has him climaxing so hard. Just seeing the shocked face of someone catching him fucking you balls deep is probably a deep desire of his. Like I said earlier this man can fuck you anywhere and won’t care who can see.

Stamina:

This boy has such a high sex drive he’s learned how to keep a high stamina. Hell even after you two are finished he still might have some energy he still needs to let off but never acts upon it because he sees how tired and worn out you are he just no longer has the heart to keep you going. You already did so much for him his needs can wait.

Toys:

Yes! I see Hendery as secretly kinky so using toys is a must for him. He’ll mostly use them to edge you on, yes he might like using them but he will never have a toy make you cum. If anything only he can, not even a toy shall do that to you. I also see him as the type to have lots of phone sex with you and have you use them but as soon as you’re close to cumming he’ll demand you to get rid of em and use your fingers to finish you off.

Unfair:

It’s a 50/50 for him. Usually he likes to tease you but not for long. He’s not the biggest fan of not giving you what you want.

Volume:

I feel like he’s one who’s kinda shy to show you his sounds of pleasure when you first go out but the more he gets comfortable and the more you reassure him he gets more vocal. Now that doesn’t mean he’s the loudest mf, I feel like he is only ever loud when he hits the spot to the point where his fingers are practically leaving a bruise on you by how good it feels. But other than that he’ll most likely grunt and have heavy breathing. Sweat running down his forehead which is what gets you going and have you get him to grunt louder when you either ride him faster or squeeze around him.

Wildcard:

When he plays video games with the boys he tends to have you on his lap throughout the game. Cock warming is his absolute favorite. He treats it like a challenge. How long can he have you on his lap without fucking you and usually it lasts around four rounds until he’s saying goodbye and fucking you from behind. Letting all his sexual needs on to you who is currently shaking his desk top like crazy.

X-ray:

Feel like he’s a bit over average. I feel like he’s more long than girthier but doesn’t mean it’s skinny as hell. Don’t get it twisted the boy be packing no doubt.

Yearning:

The man craves for you literally all the time. The only time he doesn’t yearn for you is if scheduling is kicking his ass and he’s too sleep deprived to even eat properly. Even then he might make it up by having lazy sex with you as soon as he wakes up. You guys have sex pretty regularly, if anything it’s a lot than regularly. You must have some nice working birth control because man with all these rounds and you’re still not knocked up. Only making it a challenge for Hendery to succeed in. And let me tell you once he challenges himself he most definitely succeeds.

Zzz:

Hendery is either or. It’s either he’s so worn out of his energy he falls asleep or he still has some energy left and uses that to clean up and yourselves. Usually because of how much he puts you through you’ll be the one knocked out so he’ll probably distract himself by playing the drums or doing what Hendery usually does.

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 02  —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00   01

⇢ Word Count : 

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Your eyes shoot open, chest heaving heavily as you let out a blood curdling scream. Not this again. The same dream over and over again each night. It leaves you sleepless. The time on the clock on your nightstand reads 3:04 am. Just only four hours ago is when you fell asleep. But a full night’s sleep hasn’t happened for a year so why would it matter anyways.

Once you catch your breath you unplug your phone from the charger and read some of the notifications. From your window, the night-time critters sing their songs along with the persistant owl that’s somewhere around the apartment complex. You’d only noticed him, the owl, just a few months ago when your cat started meowing with his hoots. 

A missed call from your uncle. 

Immediately you unlock your phone and dial the number. Bringing your index finger to your mouth you gently nip on it waiting for it to answer, The rings are agonizing to you. If something has happened you only wish and pray it wasn’t as bad as you think. He’s the only parental figure left in your life.

‘‘ Princess! Hello I was just calling to speak to you earlier. But I realized you are five hours ahead of me and you had probably went to sleep.’‘

His soothing voice calms your emotions making you let out a tiny breath of air. Thank god.

‘’Hey Charlie.” You sigh. Looking towards your left, you spot Clara purring quietly next to you. You can’t help but to smile while bringing a hand over to rub her head with your thumb.  She’s so small under the shining moonlight from your window.

Her white coat shines brightly amongst her, making you remember the first night you had brought her home. All she did was sleep, and it worried you because you had no prior expierence caring for anything, let alone a small animal. Clara only drank kitten milk and slept back then. Occasionally being awake enough to nip at your fingers whenever you pet or touched her.

Now she’s a bit bigger and walks around the apartment like she owns the place. Quite the little attitude she has, but its too damn cute for you to scold her whenever she does something wrong. 

“ Yes I did fall asleep from after a gathering at someone’s house.’’ You continue on, bringing your knees to your chest after opening the curtain of your window fully.

The moons brightness illuminates the entire room, but not so bright for you to complain though. ‘’ Oh- was it Jimin’s? Tell him I said hell-’’

You bite your lip hard at his name. He doesn’t know and you wont even dare to let him know. Knowing him, your uncle would have a fit and oppose to come back to Seoul to ‘set the record straight.’ to Jimin. That’s the last thing you want to do, cause trouble.

‘‘ It was his brother’s house warming party.” You say, lowering your tone in your voice. You look at the nightstand for a couple of seconds just before opening the top drawer of the wooden, polished piece. Your hands shakily pull out a picture of you two together.

It was taken at  Marne-la-Vallée, France right infront of Cinderella’s castle. That was the day that you and Jimin had to went to Disneyland in Paris, France. You cant help but to think, with the picture in hand, that it was one of the best nights ever. It was also the same night your virginity was taken.

‘‘ Oh.. I know that tone. Are you two arguing at the moment.”

You shrug, “ I mean you could say that.’’

No you cant.

‘‘ Alright alright I won’t talk more of him. Let’s change the subject.” He chuckles deeply into the phone.

‘‘ How’s Europe? Anything new happening on base?”

‘‘ Same old Same old. It’s been what? 2 years since I’ve left Seoul? The food is different over here. They don’t have kimchi pancakes sadly.”

You can only imagine the frowny face he makes at you whenever he doesn’t approve or like something. It always turns out to be funny.

You giggle into the phone shaking your head slightly, “ Of course. You are in Europe Charlie. Where are you getting food from anyway if you are on base?’’

‘‘ I can go off base to a certain mileage when I am off duty. I just have to report back in time. But you do know that you can always come live on base with me...’ He trails off.

Oh boy. Here he goes. He’s always talking about moving you on base with him. Hell, he’s been talking about it since before he had to go to be based in Europe. By then you were twenty years old and old enough to live by yourself. Growing up in Daegu, Korea since you were six, you felt as if Korea was home to you and you definately weren’t ready to leave yet.

Especially, after losing your parents here. Around eight years old, your aunt and mother were on the way to pick up your father from the airport. With your mom and dad also being military and based in Korea with your dad’s bestfriend, your uncle Charlie, your father had been called to take military leave to go and be based in Korea for the National Guard.

On the way back from the airport, a drunk driver had struck the car knocking them off the road and colliding head first into the railing of the bridge. All bodies were reported dead upon collision, including your aunt. Charlie didn’t take the news well at all, and so did you. Only eight years old and still a bit new to a foreign country. It was devistating for you and Charlie. Charlie did what was right and stepped up to be your legal guardian while taking some time off from the military. Till this day, he treats you like his sacred little daughter and you can’t ask for anyone better than him.

 “You are old enough to live on your own and housing is avail-”

You jump at his voice on the line again, being too spaced out from the tragic memory. Before he can go on any longer you cut him off. ‘‘ Im fine with the apartment you left me. Im paying the bills on time and taking good care of it.”

‘‘ Alright fine. But that option is always available you hear me? I will always be ready for you to come with me.’’

‘‘ Okay Charlie” You groan.

‘‘ Alright.. sweetie it’s getting late on this side and it’s already 3 am on your side. Get some sleep okay? Don’t you have a model shoot thingy or something? You have those a lot.’‘

‘‘ Yes i actually do in a couple of hours. It’s been a while since I’ve did a shoot. Please eat and sleep well. Don’t injure yourself.’‘

‘‘ I promise. You promise to do the same right?’‘ He says, rustling movements are in the background.

‘‘ Yes I promise. Good night sleep tight..’‘ You smile as you wait for him to finish the rest.

He chuckles one last time on the other end, ‘‘I’ll always love you, goodnight‘’

Beep Beep Beep

You in a racy light pink lingerie with white duvets and sheets is the concept of your comeback. It’s supposed to symbolize the “Night After’’. Camera’s click and directors yell and praise you in your subtle yet damaging moves and facial expressions. You want.. no need for this comeback to be successful. Not only did your manager schedule this, but she is making sure that they release this same very day.

Nobody in this company’s industry has ever did this before. But you, you are sort of the special one. The special foreigner as they say. It’s not like you don’t like it but you don’t like that they label you as that. Stylists, employee’s hell even anybody who works there treat you as a princess. It’s not bad, but it’s just weird.

‘‘ One last one. Give me a sexy yet innocent look mama.’‘ Elliot, the director says, smiling wide at you.

You slip a finger into your mouth and do a little pout with your lips.

Elliot busts out into a roar of happiness with his hands clapping furiously. ‘‘That’s it mama yes! That’s just what we needed!’‘

Adjusting his microphone earpiece, he turns around to greet and thank everyone, ‘‘ Alright everybody this concludes our shooting! You all worked so hard today. Make it home safe, eat well.’‘

Finally. You sigh out in relief and close your eyes. It’s been a long day. Almost 6 hours of shooting. Three Videos, and five swap outfits for each session of shooting for the ‘’ Night After’’.  As everyone heads out and starts cleaning up you bow your head slightly and thank them.

A stylist brings you a satin robe to cover yourself in. You thank her and put it on just before getting up from the bed and walking towards wardrobe. Once you are done putting on your clothes, your manager leads you straight out the exit. Outside awaits the car that drives you everywhere. Literally everywhere.

‘‘ Tomorrow somebody has put in a special request for you to appear as the main lead girl in their music video. It’s short notice and I told them I would have to bump some things around and notify you. But they are paying us and you good money to be in it.’‘

Money? Sounds like a plan.

‘‘ It’s fine. Who am I shooting for?’‘ You say, fluffing your hair just a little while inspecting yourself in the rear view mirror.

Your makeup is still intact with no ruins and the contacts they had given you suited you very well. A hazel with a slight bit of teal. Suddenly the car moves off into the busy streets of Seoul. You can’t help but to notice every couple that walks along the sidewalks. They seem so happy, glad to be around each other.

On the floor of the car lies your little mini backpack filled with all of your items and belongings. Picking it up, you begin to dig through it looking for some hand lotion to soothe your semi-dry hands. Once you find it you gently start to squeeze the tube.

‘‘ Kim Namjoon.’‘

You freeze. Namjoon? The same Namjoon from the group? Joonie? It’s been well… a year since you’ve seen him in person. Hell since you’ve seen all of Bangtan Sonyeondan together. Except for lastnight when Hoseok and.. that guy showed up.

You sigh already knowing the answer from the question you are about to ask.

‘‘ From…?’‘ You ask then put the lotion back in your bag. Slowly you rub your hands together to moisturize.

Your manager quickly flips through the daily planner, ‘‘ Bangtan Sonyeodan but this is for one of his mixtape songs.’‘

Thank goodness.

‘‘ That’s fine. What time will the car be arriving tomorrow?’‘

‘‘ 8 am on the dot. You need to be there by 8:30. I’ll be tending to one of my other models tomorrow so you will be alone. I can send som-’‘

‘‘ No no it’s truly okay. I know how to manage things myself. Besides, I learn from you.’‘ You reassure her with one of your winning smiles, laying your head on her shoulder.

‘‘ Aigoo what am I going to do with you?’‘

The day ends very well. The movies you’ve been watching have kept you occupied. But not occupied enough for you to keep crying at all the sad parts in the chick flicks. Breakups, someone had died, someone had even just spilled something onto the floor and that was enough to send you into tears.Only because when the main lead boy rushed to help clean it up, it reminded you of Jimin last-night helping Isabel.

‘’What is going on with myself.’’ You blow your nose into a tissue for what seemed like the thousandth time today. Clara lets out one of her meows beside you then goes back to grooming herself.

You place her onto your lap and begin to run your fingers through her fur over and over again. Such a soothing effect to you as you stare into space sulking in your thoughts.

Why is it that you weren’t enough for him? Why is it that every single little thing reminds you of him? You gave him your all and he gave you his but what happened? Where did you go wrong? Cooked, cleaned, satisfied his needs. You guys had even started to plan out what you wanted out of a family. When you wanted a baby and what you would name it. It was fun. The whole relationship was fun. Right until that scandal.

Ding.. Ding.. Ding.. DI-

You unlock your phone immediately to stop that annoying dinging noise. Not surprisingly it’s a text from Jeon Jungkook.

Kookie : Im coming over I’ll be there in exactly 3 minutes.

Kookie: Don’t think about leaving either.

Kookie: Im bringing someone with me.

Kookie: We need to have a serious talk babycheeks.

You roll your eyes at the nickname he’s given you. No matter how many times you tell him you want him to change it, he declines. There’s no point in asking anymore.

Why would he want to talk anyways and who is the person he’s bringing. Eh.. it might just be Ryan they seem to do everything together as a team.

As soon as you step foot out of your bed the sound the door clicking makes your head shoot up. How in the living hell does he know the password to your house? Rage takes over you. That’s something that you hate. When people invade your personal space. In this case, personal home.

‘‘ Jeon fucking Jungkook!’‘ You scream, abruptly stomping your feet all the way to and out your bedroom door. Suddenly you stop at the sight of the two faces staring back at you.

Jungkook’s expression holds a concerned yet upset face while the other just stands there calm and cool. But you on the other hand are way besides that level.

Your eyes must be filled with rage and the expression on your face is no good. How dare he disrespect you like that? Bringing him into your home, knowing the bad blood between you two. Oh, they both have something coming towards them. You begin to walk to them again making each step make the floor shake.

‘‘ Get out. Both of you. One you invade my personal private home..’‘

You grab both boys by their collars, making sure to grip the one on the right’s harder than usual. ‘‘ Two, you fucking invite him over here.’‘ You drag each of them towards the exit. Which is going good until Jungkook rips your hands away from his shirt and takes you over his shoulder.

You’ve had enough of him and his invasive ways. Pounding on his back with your fists, you make sure to scream into his ear. “ Put me the fuck down Jeon Jungko-”

You hiss at the stinging sensation on your ass. Did he just? Jimin stands there awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You make sure to make eye contact with him and roll your eyes. Something that always had and will piss him off.

‘‘ Hush. I told you all of us needed to have a deep talk about you.’‘

Jungkook plops your frail body onto one side of the couch in which he sits next to you. He motions for Jimin to come sit across from the both of you but you aren’t having it.

‘‘ Don’t you do it.” You glare at him. Jungkook sighs harshly only to pluck your forehead two times. You whine and rub it with your index and middle finger.

Jungkook shakes his head in disapproval, ‘‘ When are you ever going to learn? Jimin sit down now.”

‘‘ Truthfully.. I feel as though I shouldn’t be here so-”

“ Good. Get out you are unwanted.” You snap back causing him to give you one of his long stares with no facial expression at all.

Jungkook glares at you just before getting up to throw his hands in the air full of disappointment. “ Enough! “

Yelling. Something else you don’t like to hear being done at yourself. You finally sit still and quite avoiding any eye contact with the both of them.

He sits back down and clears his throat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look before continuing on.

‘‘ I gathered us here to talk about you..”

‘‘ Why. Im fine. How many times do I have to say it. Im fine im fine im fine im fucking fine!’‘ You exclaim, getting more mad by the second. When will people accept this?

‘‘ Baby.. ’‘

Your eyes shoot up to him and his soft voice. You didn’t want to but you did because his voice to you is like candy that melts into your mouth.

‘‘ Don’t call me that. You have a girlfriend at-least be loyal to her rather than what you did to me.’‘

‘‘ Fuck is anybody going to just sit here and listen? Can we at-least get to the source of the problem? Huh?’‘ Jungkook leans back into the couch clearly pissed by your attitude.

Jimin’s the first to speak and holds a firm eye contact with you, almost daring you to break away from it.

‘‘ Fine. Im just going to cut straight to it then. Why are you so jealous? You aren’t okay at all. I seen the way you looked at us yesterday. You wanted to break down so bad but you didn’t. It looks like you’ve been dropping weight day by day why aren’t you eating well?’’

You’re taken a-back by his jealous comment. Although you are you just cannot admit it. You are jealous. You do want him back. You cant bear to see him with another girl but you. But the fact that Jimin is concerned makes you really hope. Just hope that there is something left of you still in his heart.

‘‘ Jealous? Jealous tuh.” You scoff, leaning into Jungkook’s arms where you rest his head on your chest. You only do this just to see Jimin’s reaction and by the look on his face he doesn’t enjoy that move one bit.

‘‘ Yes jealous. I mean why else would you put almond extra-

‘‘ Woah. No need to go there. We established that it was a so called accident lastnight.” Jungkook does finger quotes into the air and looks down at you.

You lift your head up and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, “ So called? So you really believe that I did it on purpose. Wow Jungkook. Escort yourself out.’’

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you securly in hopes of you settling down a  little, “ Honestly it’s not like that. I wasn’t there to see you bake them nor was I watching her eat it. Im just saying that you knew Jimin was coming and obviously his girlfriend was going to come too. It’s a little sketchy is all.”

There’s no fixing what he said. Him adding onto his explanation just made things sound worse than what he’s trying to say. You don’t have time to be ganged up on, nor like it at all. It’s best if they both just leave, to not turn nothing into something.

‘‘ Get out. Now. Before I call and tell Ryan what you said and then she’ll definitely deal with you.’‘ You say, removing yourself from off of him and onto the other side of the couch with your legs crossed.

Mad isn’t even the word to describe yourself right now. You’re just a mixture of all emotions.

Jungkook now looks of sorriness written all over his face. You bite your lip and shake your head while pointing towards the door. He sighs heavily and takes one last look at you while removing himself from the couch. You watch him slip on his coat and shoes.

Jimin gets up from his spot on the couch, ‘‘ I’ll be leav-”

‘‘ Sit down we aren’t done talking.” 

He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sitting back down slowly.

Jungkook keeps his head down as he wraps his blue scarf around his neck. Poor baby, but he shouldn’t of said it. “Please better yourself and talk it out with each-other. Im leaving.”

‘‘ Make it home safely.. Kookie.” You sigh once the door closes behind him. Now you’re here. Face to face with Park Jimin.

The same Jimin who cheated on you. The same Jimin you haven’t seen in a while. You take a few moments to take in his appearance. He seems to have re-gained his muscles that are peaking through his black, longsleeve shirt. His thighs are still thick, just like his luscious lips. Of course he changed his hair color to black. But who knows, he might change it again.

‘‘ You’ve been doing well?’‘ You say, voice low but enough for him to hear. You drop your eyes to your lap instead of keeping intact with his.

‘‘ Yes. But you have not. Im disappointed in you. Why are you doing this to yourself? Don’t do this because of me.”

‘‘ Jimin you don’t know the feeling. You don’t know how it feels to be left wondering why you weren’t good enough for someone. Why they had cheated on you. You don’t understand at all and wont ever.’‘ Your voice cracks on the last sentence and you an feel the lump in your throat become sore.

He bites his lip unsure of what to say next. Those words had hit him good inside. ‘‘ Im sorry. I truly am. But you know the reason why we had to end it. I fucked up bad and the media was making the scandal bigger and messier day by day. It was better to just call it off.’‘

One by one your tears start to drop. You nose begins it’s running trip but you sniffle it back up.

‘‘ You could of denied it. You know you could of made a statement and denied it. But you felt something for her didn’t you? Didn’t you?’‘ You semi-yell, sobs already starting to take it’s way over.

He bites his lip once again and ruffles his fingers through his hair, “ Baby..’’

You wipe your tears with your hands making your face even more puffy from the crying. “ I am jealous. I am I admit it Jimin. But do you know i have been suffering for one year and two months? I can’t sleep at night because im so used to your touch at night. I look at every couple in Seoul and think to myself, Dang they seem so happy. What’s their secret?’’

Jimin sits up, making eye contact with you with tears welling up into his eyes. It hurt’s you more than yourself to see him crying. It always has.

‘‘ Please don’t do that. Don’t do this to yourself. Please get help from someone to try and move on. Please. I don’t like to see or hear you make yourself suffer.’ He begs, getting up from his seat and coming towards you.

Jimin sits next to you, hesitantly opening his arms up to you. Would it be wrong to embrace him? He’s being too sincere, but thats what you want right? You decide to just do it, and lean into him only for him to pull you in closer into his chest.You just lay there crying and sobbing while he runs his fingers through your hair. You shouldn’t be doing this. He has a girlfriend. But it feels so right.

‘‘ What does she have that I don’t? Why couldn’t you love me the same way you love her “  You cry into his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. 

You’d been waiting for this moment to just let it out. Let everything out.

‘’ Please don’t make this harder than what it is right now. Just try and forget me and move on. Please.” Hypocritcal. How does he expect you to get over him when he’s the one whos holding you so tight right now. Soon enough his sniffles join yours in harmony.

You raise your head up and look him deep into the eyes while you wipe away his tears, “ Don’t cry Jimin. I’m the one supposed to be crying over you. Don’t cry.’’

He takes your hand away from his face and wraps his fist ontop of yours, “Please promise me you will move on okay?’’

You shake your head no, “ I can’t make that promise.”

He doesn’t say anything. He gently cradles you in his arms and lifts you up. You don’t think to where he is going. You just close your eyes and grab onto his shirt firmly not wanting to let go.

Soon enough you feel the cold sheets over your bed. He covers you in the duvet and leans down to your forehead.  A kiss. Your fist is still locked onto his shirt in which he tries to pry it away but you don’t want to let him go. He sighs and raises his arms up as he takes off the shirt revealing an extra plain white wife beater under it. Taking your other hand, he wraps your hand into another fist onto the shirt to where both of your hands are holding onto it.

‘‘ Please better yourself for me baby. Sleep and eat well. “

Is all he says before turning off the lights and walking out your bedroom door.  You can hear him putting on and zipping up his heavy coat but you just don’t make a sound.

The apartment door clicks and beeps letting you know he’s already gone.

[thefanficmonster]

A Little Childish

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF

Summary: Corpse and Y/N go to visit Y/N’s parents for New Year’s. Corpse was promised good food, good company and A LOT of snow. Needless to say, the place didn’t disappoint - quite the contrary actually, it exceeded any and all expectations he had.

Requested by @waterflowersposts Hi there! Sorry for how long it took for this fic to be written :( I hope the final result makes up for the long wait! I also thought it would be appropriate to post it during the holiday season, so I hope you don’t mind. Hope you enjoy the read and I’m looking forward to hearing your feedback and any more requests you may have. Stay safe! Happy Holidays! Love, Vy ❤

I watch as Corpse is basically floating from one room into another in our shared apartment as he’s throwing random articles of clothing in his open suitcase. I have already packed my bags, knowing full well what the appropriate attire is for where we’re going.

I look away from my laptop when Corpse comes in for maybe the sixtieth time today, this time carrying a white tee causing me to chuckle. “Corpse, I know it’s very trademark for you, but the only way you’ll be wearing that when we get there is under a sweater for some extra warmth. I’m not looking forward to having my boyfriend freeze in my parent’s house.”

He smiles, looking at the shirt in his hands, and shakes his head, “Fine, guess I’ll do without it for a week or two.” He throws it in our room, not even bothering to check where it’ll land before he comes to sit down next to me on the couch, “Keep in mind, you have set my expectations pretty high up there. If I am not waist deep in snow the second we step off the plane, I’ll be disappointed.”

I give him a side glance, a smirk playing on my lips. Must say, taking on challenges you know you’re gonna win is the ultimate high-and-mighty feeling. “Honey, you’ve got a big snowstorm coming.”

                                                               *  *  *

All throughout our trip - I’m talking the drive to the airport AND the flight over - I have kept my eyes glued to Corpse, observing as his eyes sparkled more and more with each foot we got closer to our destination. He has told me the most snow he has seen was less than an inch and I immediately felt it was my duty to change that by introducing him to the magic of Canada - my home. My parents own a getaway cottage in the mountains of Calgary where we used to go every holiday season. My earliest memory is playing in the thigh-deep snow with my older sister and crying whenever our parents had to drag us back inside. 

The West Coast of the US was a rather odd surrounding for me, having grown up surrounded by snowy mountains, experiencing Christmas with no snow whatsoever was a true let down and underwhelming feeling. Since Corpse and I started dating about a month after Christmas time last year this will be our first time spending the holidays together and Corpse was more than enthusiastic to visit Canada when I mentioned how much I enjoyed my winters there. We couldn’t go for Christmas, but we’ll be there for New Year’s Eve and the first two weeks of 2021 and I am really excited. I have been dying to see my family that has actually expanded since the last time I visited - my sister has had yet another baby, making her and her husband parents of three very energetic toddlers. The six year old twins - Ashley and Alex - and the three year old Andrew. Or, as I like to call them: The 3 As.

I have warned Corpse about them like seven times despite the fact that he’s already familiar with their energy, convincing him that if that’s more than he can handle we’ve still got time to cancel the trip. He didn’t bat an eye though, each time telling me not to worry and focus my attention on reliving the moments I’ve missed so greatly instead of making sure he was having a good time.

“If you’re there...“ he said, “I’ll sure as hell be having a good time.“

One step out of the airport and he’s already mesmerized. His eyes are shiny reflecting the glow of the snow all around. It’s gonna be funny to see his reaction when he witnesses the real deal - the snow in the mountains. This compared to that is a pathetic excuse.

“I know it’s not waist-high, but that’s because they shovel it and melt it.“ He is looking around, not paying much mind to my words. The utter amazement and disbelief on his face just makes me want to wrap my arms around him and kiss him. He’s simply adorable! I see fragments of the child in him swimming up to the surface in the form of temptation - temptation every kid feels when they see snow: Dive in and lose track of time. “Wait till we get to the cottage.“

This manages to catch his attention, “You weren’t kidding.“

I laugh at my precious kiddy boyfriend. “Whoa there, Corpsie. If your mind is already blown, I’m worried about how you’ll react to the real deal.“ 

I have a feeling I know exactly how he’ll react cause I react similarly - I set the child in me free. After all, no parent can tell you to stop playing and go inside when you are a 23-year-old.

                                                             *  *  *

Walking up to the cottage from the cable-car station has to be the first time I’ve breathed with my lungs’ full capacity in the last five years. The sharp cold air screams ‘home’ to me like nothing else ever did. I am still surprised as to how my sister prefers summer. My family jokes I’m a winter wolf in disguise and I think they’re right. I do like to roll around in the snow much like a wolf. No judgement! Having a few extra years added to my age doesn’t change everything.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.“ If I could take a shot every time Corpse has repeated this phrase I’d be dead due to liver failure. He is absolutely stunned. And I’m pretty sure he hasn’t blinked at all. Who am I to talk - I haven’t either. These mountains keep getting prettier and prettier, I swear. Taking my eyes off them would be a crime.

“Told you. I wish we made a bet, I could’ve made some easy money.“ I tease him, gently bumping my elbow against his as we walk up the trail.

“I’m glad I didn’t propose such a thing. That would’ve been fucking stupid of me.“ Judging by the tone of his voice, he is not really present in this conversation, so I decide not to let it go on any longer.

Not that I could’ve done differently, seeing as how barely three seconds latter I see three smiling faces coming at me at max speed.

Oh boy.

“Auntie Y/N!“ Ashley and Alex arrive first of course, wrapping their arms tightly around my waist. Little Andrew stumbles his way to me as quickly as a three year old possibly could.

Without wasting a second, I put my bags down and crouch so I can hug them properly. “Hi my babies! I haven’t seen you in so long.” Their hugging strength surprises me and warms my heart at the same time. The twins pull away, leaving room for the little duckling in a jacket two times his size and weight. “Hi Andrew! I nice to meet you! I’m auntie Y/N. Mommy and daddy have told you about me, haven’t they? If not I’ll kick their asses.”

“Y/N, I swear, I’ll tell Amy you’re teaching her kids swears at a very early age.“ Corpse says teasingly, stealing the attention from all four of us.

“She curses like a sailor, these kids probably know more swear words than I do.“ Ash and Alex run straight out of my grasp and to Corpse, proceeding to hug him around the waist as they did with me. They met Corpse when my sister and her husband Finn visited me back in the summer. They immediately fell in love with him. I specifically remember Alex telling me I have a ‘really cool boyfriend‘ and he only uses the word ‘cool‘ when he really likes something or someone. Corpse was honorably declared cool by Alex and that still warms my heart till this day.

“Hi guys, long time no see!“ He too crouches down to hug the little demons that immediately cling to him like koalas.

I scoop up the bundle of clothes with a face and stand up, balancing him on my hip. “Let’s attempt to get inside, shall we?” With my unoccupied arm I grab the handle of my suitcase.

Corpse nods and follows my lead, picking up the bags he also left in the snow. Ash and Alex bolt it back to the house while we struggle to follow, lowkey embarrassed by the pace we’re walking with.

Andrew struggles against me, reaching out towards Corpse. I look at them both apologetically. “You’ll meet Corpse when we get inside, darling. Chill out.”

“Y/N!“ My sister’s voice steals my attention. She emerges from the house, followed by the twins, a huge smile on her face. Her eyes land on Andrew who has calmed down is now resting his head on my shoulder sleepily, “Oh I’m so sorry about them, Y/N. I didn’t know they would charge at you the second you stepped foot on the property.“

Amy motions for me to give her her son but I hand her my suitcase instead. When she takes it I use my now freed arm to hug her as tightly as I possibly can with one arm and while balancing a baby on my chest. ��It’s ok! I couldn’t have dreamed of a better welcoming.” I release, giving her a big smile.

She loses interest in me and goes to hug Corpse, taking a bag from him as well before giving him a hug. “Oh my God, Corpse, it feels like it’s been forever. I’m so glad to see you.”

“Happy to see you too, Amy.“ My sister has never liked a single guy I’ve dated. EVER. Corpse is the only one she warmed up to and that’s a huge deal to me. Corpse’s happiness when I told him that was something I’d pay to have filmed just so I can watch it every time I’m feeling down.

“Let’s get you both inside, you must be freez-“ She cuts herself off, rolling her eyes at me, “Of course, you’re not.“

I laugh and blow her a kiss as we keep carrying onward.

“Um, guys?“ Corpse’s voice makes me pause and turn around. He’s still standing in the same spot, looking- unsettled, I guess you could call it.

“What’s wrong?“ I walk over to him, taking his hand in mine.

His hand automatically gives mine a reassuring squeeze, “Nothing really, it’s just that...I’m meeting your parents for the first time and-...What if they don’t like me?”

I open my mouth to go off and start stating the obvious that they indeed won’t like him. They will LOVE him. It’s impossible not to love this man! But my sister beats me to it when it comes to stating the facts.

“Look, Corpse, they already love you. Heck, sometimes I feel like they have known Finn and you longer than they have known Y/N and I! They speak so highly of you and haven’t even met you - that should tell you more than enough about how they see you.“ She waves her hand towards the cottage, “Now walk in there and blow them away.“

Honestly, I’m glad Amy beat me to it. I couldn’t have said it better myself. 

And just like that, hand in hand, Andrew still in my other arm, we walk in.

                                                             *  *  *

Corpse is officially the main attraction, stealing the spotlight from Amy, Finn and I - something the three of us are incredibly thankful for. Amy was right with every word she said - my parents are absolutely in love with Corpse. Luckily for Finn and Amy, the 3 As are all over him as well. Especially Andrew. The second someone sets him down he just waddles his way over to Corpse who picks him up and settles him in his lap while he answers my parents’ questions. 

When the kids were finally talked into taking a nap, Corpse and I snuck out to have a little walk in the snow and, of course, take some pictures. I made it my personal goal to make as many artsy and aesthetic photos of him as possible. His favorite - a hand only pic of him holding a snowball - was my idea and I think I have never felt prouder of myself.

“I am definitely posting this one.“ He says, turning the phone so I can see the screen. I give it a quick glance, thinking he’s talking about the hand pic but do a double take when I realize it’s a picture of me that he has taken without my knowledge.

I actually look rather decent, so I give him a green light in the form of a big thumbs up, “As long as you post the hand one too.”

“Hey, Y/N!“ We look back at the house which isn’t far from where we are right now. Amy is hugging the jacket tightly around herself as she approaches us with fast steps. “You know where we haven’t been in like forever?“

I raise an eyebrow and shake my head as I rack through my brain trying to dig up what she’s referring to. It could literally be any place on this mountain!

“Hello! The Waterless Lake? Ring any bells?“

Oh...it sure does.

Brief explanation: it is a huge circular dip in the ground which fills with water when the snow melts and becomes a lake but empties by the time winter comes back around. That being said, when the snow is still not melted, it’s an absolute wonderland to play in. I suddenly remember all the barrel-rolling Amy and I did there as kids and feel really nostalgic.

“Oh God, yes! I miss that place!“ I say, snapping out of my reminiscing trance. “Let’s go while it’s still light enough.”

“Finn is making dinner right now, or trying to at least.“ She rolls her eyes, turning to Corpse, “But it’d be our pleasure if you tagged along, Corpse.“

Corpse shakes his head, “I’ll politely decline. You ladies can reminisce and chat in peace, while I’ll be helping Finn in the kitchen.” He gives me a quick peck on the lips before excusing himself, “Have fun!”

“You too!“ We call back to him in unison.

Amy gives me an amazed, wide-eyed look, “He can cook?”

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, smirking, “Oh, you have no idea.”

She laughs, linking arms with me as we begin walking our way to the Waterless Lake. The place probably has a different name or no name at all, but we named it that as kids and never told our parents where it was. It’s our spot, and it is very surprising Amy offered Corpse to accompany us there.

“Sis, you are very lucky. I hope you know that.“ She tightens the hold on my arm with hers, pulling us closer together.

“I tell myself that every time I look at him, Aims. I am fully aware.“ I say dreamily, recalling all the times I’ve spent with Corpse. Almost one full year and I could never imagine that year, nor the upcoming ones, without him.

                                                                *  *  *

Upon returning, we’re met with the most wholesome scene I have ever seen - Corpse and Finn are making snowmen with the 3 As. It seems like they’ve been at it for a while, considering there is an army of snowmen of different designs, shapes and sizes all at different spots throughout the perimeter of the clearing in front of the house.

“Oh dear Lord.“ Amy mumbles, “I had a feeling this would happen.“

The five snowman-builders don’t even acknowledge our presence when we approach them. Ashley and Alex are running around with Finn, looking for sticks to use as the snowmen’s limbs while Corpse is helping Andrew gather as much snow as possible for the body.

I don’t realize there’s a huge smile on my face up until the point I’m trying to say something. Nothing comes out, though. My words are being muffled by all the overwhelming emotions that have taken over - collapsing my senses. 

With a roll of her eyes, my sister opens the front door, taking a step into the house. The second the door opens, however, I get a whiff of the delicious smell coming from inside. Best guess, and probably the right one - this is Corpse’s doing. 

If I wasn’t already hungry, I sure as hell am now and I’m in no mood to be in that delicious food’s proximity without attacking it. 

“Come on, guys! Dinner time! Get your butts inside!“ I call out to them from the doorway.

Corpse turns to look at me with the sneakiest smirk I have ever seen. He narrows his eyes at me, “You have done the very thing you despise!”

It takes me approximately three seconds to connect the dots and scrunch up my face, picking up all the snow I can an forming it in a snow ball, throwing it at Corpse. Growing up doing this exact thing has given me great aim, therefore I hit Corpse square in the chest.

“Oh you’re so in for it now.“ He laughs, picking up snow to form his own snowball.

“Snowball fight!“ Ashley yells, ditching the sticks to make a snowball for herself.

“Oh no...“ I poke my head in the hallway just as a snowball hits my upper arm, “Aims, I need your help!“ 

Before Amy can respond, I run to take cover behind the nearest snowman that, luckily for me happens to be one of the larger ones. I hear Amy call out my name when she exits the house, followed by a surprised yelp from her when three snowballs hit her. “You are all dead!”

While she is fighting blood and fire (well, water really), I am making ammunition for us both to use. I’m on my eleventh snowball when snow showers me from above as though it has fallen from a tree branch.

“Hiding, I see.“ I am still in shock, hair and upper body covered in snow, when I hear Corpse’s taunting voice.

My vengeance instinct kicks in having me grab two snowballs and turn to throw them at him. To my dismay, he’s faster then me and doesn’t allow me to even get my arm at an angle where I could throw properly. Instead, he turns me back around and picks me up with ease, one arm wrapped around my waist, another grabbing two of my prepared snowballs from the ground.

“Let’s show them who the bosses are.“ I see him wink at me from the corner of my eye and it takes me little to no time to catch onto what he’s insinuating.

In short, with joined forces, we took out the opposite team in no time - like a true couple 😉

[fandomvariousness]

Pairing: Levi x reader

Warnings: mild angst, violence, swearing, smut: slight dacryphilia, choking, slight masochism, slight dumbification, power play, unprotected sex

Summary: you’re an untruly scout in Levi’s squad and he let’s you know exactly how he feels when he pays you a visit during your punishment task

Word count: 3.6k

All hell broke loose if it was one of the worse days.

Your hot-headed disposition was a challenge to deal with in the first place, but if you felt a tad annoyed that day… Let’s just say punishments were as natural to you as breathing air.

It took slightest things to piss off Captain Levi – an irritated glance after he scolded you, a quiet remark you’d use to talk back and he, of course, would hear it. Simply put – you were disobedient. Yet even then you were an indispensable soldier – resourceful, intelligent, and absolutely fearless. Much like a wildfire – once you blaze, it’s hard to put you out.

Even so, Captain Levi eventually chose you to be a part of his new squad. Yes, he never encountered such an erratic human being that’s basically impossible to control, the traits that go against his every bullet point in describing a proper soldier, but he knew he would be an absolute fool if he’d go that massive potential of yours go to waste.

Countless times he wanted to kick you off the squad for being an unbearable brat, yet he didn’t. Often, you yourself wondered why.

✃

The squad has been on a minor expedition outside the walls for training purposes, so all of you were headed to the nearest cottage safe house.

After a tiring day of training, when the sun was setting down, you were all sitting outside, enjoying the last remnants of warmth in the air. Captain was sauntering inside the cottage, probably inspecting each crack and crevice after you all spend the first half of the day cleaning it.

It would be such a nice evening if Eren and Mikasa would argue a bit quieter. In fact, Mikasa was calmly saying something to Eren, while the latter, being basically as hot-headed as you, was arguing against her every word.

It pissed you off when they were like that, because it’s obvious Mikasa would do anything for Eren. Either he is so daft and doesn’t get it, or he doesn’t care. You never admitted to yourself that you’re jealous that Eren has someone who cares for him, while you have no one. Not even your family which was once very big – you had lots of cousins, aunts and uncles. Now, only you remain.

“Oi,” you exclaimed. “could you just tone it down a bit?”

Eren’s fiery gaze snapped towards you in a second. “Stay out of this!”

Now, you knew it’s none of your business, but you hated being talked to like that, much less ordered. You stood up in a swift motion from where you were leaning against a bench and turned your body to face Eren.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve no interest in what you’re crying about, Jaeger, but you’re not even listening to Mikasa, that much is obvious.”

Others were starting to pay attention too – they knew that when the two of you started bickering, often it’d turn into something more… interesting.

“You know what else is obvious?” he asked, his voice challenging. “That you act all brave and fearless, but in reality you’re just a restless child acting as if she lost her dummy!”

You felt that familiar tickling feeling of your temper rising, firing you up until you eventually lose yourself and act upon instincts that keep you alive and going.

You chuckled curtly. “Me? You’re calling me a child?”

Tauntingly, you’ve stepped closer to him. Eren knew that it’s not smart to wind you up like that, you’re still friends, good friends – it just so happened that you’re both in a bad mood today.

“At least I can wipe my own ass without Mikasa’s help.” you finished your sentence just before Eren grabbed a fistful of your collar and roughly pulled you flush against him, both of your impulsive auras conflicting with each other.

You growled as you pushed him away in a swift, forceful motion, earning a murderous glare from him.

It took so little to get you angry. Even though you pushed him away, that unruly part of yours stepped close to him again as you dug your forefinger in his chest in a threatening manner.

“Don’t touch me, you, whiny bitch,” you spat out, your voice dripping with venom – you were already blazing, and there was no going back.

Eren slapped your hand away. “Who you’re calling a whiny bitch? I wasn’t the one who cried into the pillow for two weeks after driving Reiner and Bertholdt away!”

Now, you can be reckless, wild, fiery… But Eren can be cruel.

The reason you were so devastated after finding out your two best friends were your mortal enemies was because with them you felt like you’ve had family again – both of them reminded you of your older brothers. You shared your feelings with Eren in confidence, and he just blurted it out in front of everyone.

“Fuck it,” you thought as you launched a punch at his face with a primal scream.

By now the others knew not to interfere in your fights, not even Mikasa. God knows they tried, and it made it even worse.

Eren fell to the ground with a hard thud before you quickly straddled him and lifted up your bent hand to launch another punch at his bloody nose.

The bastard was quick to react nevertheless as he met your fist with his palm and squeezed it, slapping you off of him with his free hand in a swift motion. The second your own body collided with the grass you were already scrambling with your hands and feet to get up.

As you turned to Eren with the intention to ram him to the ground again, he was already on his legs as well. The others were still shouting for you two to break it up, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before Captain Levi shows up.

Not thinking straight, you did exactly what you wanted, you launched yourself at him and picked him like a flower stem, both of you flying to the ground again, followed by a sickening thump.

Your vision was getting blurry from all the rage and adrenaline as you lifted up your fist, charged with savage energy, ready to collide with Eren’s already battered face, yet it never happened. It never happened because someone else was gripping your wrist so hard, almost stopping the blood flow.

You snapped your head back to see murderous look in Captain’s gray eyes.

Still gripping your wrist, he jerked you back like a rag doll, painfully sending you to the ground, away from Eren.

It fell so quiet you could hear the clouds passing.

Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I will kill both of you.”

“Right,” he continued. “when everyone’s going to sleep after this long, tiring day, you brats are going to sweep this house clean again. I don’t care how long it takes you. Eren takes right wing, Y/N takes left.”

He glared daggers at the two of you before going back to the cottage, just like that. It was actually worse when he didn’t say much – means he’s absolutely sick of you.

Still breathing heavily, you stood up, leaning on your knees with your palms for support.

“Shit, guys,” Jean muttered. “Shall we say our goodbyes now, or...?”

“Jean.” Mikasa snapped, shutting him up.

You glared at Eren who glared right back at you, although his eyes were already void of the rage that was previously residing in them.

You looked away without a word and made your way towards the cottage, wanting to wipe all the dirt and soot away.

✃

You stared at your distraught face in the mirror. Distraught by the fight you had with Eren, and by the fact that you got on Captain’s nerves again. How longer can you go on like this before he finally kicks you out?

You wiped your wet face with a towel as you heard someone come into the bathroom. Mikasa’s frame showed up in the mirror.

“Mikasa,” you spoke without hesitation as you turned around. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

Mikasa shook her head sheepishly. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not. You’re the most caring person I know and I used that to shame Eren, although there’s no shame in caring for your loved ones.”

Mikasa blushed as she set her eyes to the ground. “Everyone’s going to sleep already – you better hurry.”

“Right,” you sighed, feeling the jitters of anticipation.

You quit the bathroom and made your way to the cleaning cupboard to grab all sorts of supplies. At least the Captain was nowhere to be seen – you couldn’t bear his condemning gaze now. Not when you secretly always yearn for his approval.

You can’t help but stare at him a second longer than you should, or think about him when you shouldn’t. The fact that he hasn’t kicked you off of his squad gives you some material for thinking that maybe he simply doesn’t want to. There’s just something about him that makes you tense everytime you’re around him – not the dread everyone feels, but something else entirely, something that makes your stomach tingle.

You just finished cleaning all the dishes after dinner and was now sweeping the floor that was still clean after your cleaning tasks earlier in the day. That was the point of the punishment, you figured – clean the surroundings that are already clean, only to frustrate you.

You were kind of spacing out, the flashbacks of the fight with Eren coming back, rekindling the violent blaze within you. Everything was suddenly in your head again, pushing you to the edge. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose as you stopped momentarily, letting go of the broom and trying to forget how Eren just blurted out about your sorrows, how Captain glared at you, how everyone got to witness you getting unhinged again.

Hot flashes hit your body as you blew the stray ringlet of hair from your forehead, leaning on the dining table with your palms, desperately trying to calm down.

“Who told you to stop?”

Oh no… Really not the time.

You needed a few more seconds to stop the shivers as you opened your eyes and straightened your frame, facing Captain Levi, who was leaning against the counter.

It was precisely those few extra seconds that displeased him.

“Tsk,” he spat out as he straightened his frame. “Not only you’re deranged, but lazy too.”

You faced him with as blank a face as you could possibly muster, yet all your feelings were bubbling up, threatening to spill out with a little more provocation. You never wanted to rip off someone’s head so bad, until now.

You didn’t realize you���d squeezed your eyes shut until they suddenly opened with the sound of hard crash – Levi had purposely smashed a ceramic cup to the ground, shattering it to pieces.

You set your mad eyes on him, disbelief written all over you.

“Clean it.” he ordered. “Or are you going to disobey me again?”

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard you sure it was bleeding, breathing heavily, restraining yourself like never before in order not to pounce on him.

Instead, you repeatedly bit your lower lip as you felt your eyes watering. It’s better to cry yourself stupid before him than to actually hit him – then everything would definitely be over.

He stepped closer to you, your clothes almost brushing together, as he looked down on you with clear disgust, and… satisfaction?

You were so angry. He tried to demean you just now, and you were under immense pressure to actually pick those pieces up. You knew you had to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

You gulped. “You’re abusing your power.”

“No,” he closed in on you, making you step backwards until the back of your thighs hit the table. “I’m establishing my power, since you clearly don’t recognize it.”

He leaned his palms on the table just like you did moments ago, trapping you. Your heart was palpitating against your ribcage, yet for reasons entirely different than rage.

All of those glances and pushes and punishments now made sense – that was the only way he could think of to interact with you with no suspicion from others. He’d often chide you for the stupidest things, just so he’d have the chance to have a conversation with you, no matter how fleeting or unimportant.

Deep down you always knew it, and that’s why you’re continued being such a burden. Just so that he’d look at you and punish you again, scream at you, or kick the shit out of you again.

The atmosphere in the room has changed radically. You felt like walking on a string, about to fall off as his face was hovering just above yours, torturing you with anticipation.

“You wanted to beat the shit out of me just now, didn’t you?” he quizzed while slowly tracing your features with his stony gaze. Instead of answering, you gulped.

He grabbed your face harshly, puckering up your lips in the process. “Speak.”

“Yes.” you admitted before his hand slid down to lightly hang at the base of your neck, igniting whole another fire within you.

“Yes what?” he asked, adding pressure to his hand.

“Yes, Captain.”

At this rate, you’re going to burn out.

He chuckled quietly through his nose and stood up straight. “Go on, then. I’m ordering you to slap me.”

It was as if you just turned into a statue – that’s how shocked you were. “W-What?” you asked sheepishly.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

You stared at him, trying to see him and his intentions through. Obviously, things were finally getting spicy, but your defense mechanism still rang some alarm bells – is he trying to trick you into something? Are you really going to bitch-slap the humanity’s strongest?

You felt your palms starting to tingle as he stared right into your eyes, challenging you to do it.

And you’re gonna do it, alright.

Something just snapped inside you, as it always does before you do something stupid or something you’re going to regret. You charged your palm with strength before sending it flying across his cheek with all your might. You whimpered as your skin came in contact with his, setting your palm on fire from such a harsh stroke.

And then it dawned on you – you really did bitch-slap him. He even stumbled one step backwards, his head ominously turned to the side, crow-black hair shielding his eyes from your vision, what absolutely terrified you.

He straightened his frame as he wiped a droplet of blood from his lip with the tip of his thumb.

You gasped audibly, making him look at you.

That’s it, you thought, he has a perfect reason to kill you now, and you were stupid enough to fall for it. You closed your eyes and awaited whatever’s to come, and it did come.

His lips came crashing on yours, both of you stumbling backwards, moving the table a bit. He immediately yanked you to sit on the wooden surface, positioning himself between your thighs as you held onto him for dear life.

He devoured you with hungry, open-mouthed kisses before you bit his lower lip, drawing blood once more.

One of his hands that were digging into your hips came in contact with your neck, squeezing it hard and pushing you away so he could see your hazy face.

“Savage.” he muttered after a few moments of taking you in, making your mouth stretch out into a lazy smile.

He pushed himself to you further, making your back hit the table as he attached his lips just below your neck, where jaw transitions to neck, coaxing a mewl out of you. He coaxed another when he rutted his hips against yours, making you aware of the growing tent in his pants.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, eyes closed as he sucked and bit little marks all over your neck. Hiding them is going to be a problem.

You took his face in your hands and kissed him deeply, rolling your hips against his in a tantalizing motion, whimpering at how his hardness brushes against where you need him the most, feeling him exhale into your mouth as his mind was equally clouded.

It felt like everything was finally coming to be exactly as it should, like you’d finally be released from your misery, like the intentions behind each of your actions would finally be clear, without any misunderstandings.

You were both impatient. No time for thorough build up, you just wanted to feel him inside you, just as he wanted to fill you up.

He drew back a bit, restrained by your legs snaking his waist as he rested his forehead against yours, panting heavily. “I’d really like to fuck you now.”

The fact that after all the crazy shit you’ve been through today he’d still ask for consent made you give it all to him. “Only if you do it so hard I can’t walk for days.”

You felt his dick twitch. “Easy.”

You yelped as he flipped you around, fumbling with the hem of your pants as he pushed them down to your knees, along with your underwear. You shivered as cool air hit your slick folds, and once again when you heard Levi fumbling with his own belt.

You wiggled your hips against him, impatient, almost crying out – you needed him that bad. His palm came flying against your behind, making you yelp loudly, gripping the edge of the table as you’re all sprawled out on top of it.

You whimpered again as you felt him brush the tip of his dick teasingly against your entrance. “Please, Captain…”

“So impatient,” he muttered silently before ramming into you without any warning.

Your nails dug into the wooden edge as you cried out into the air, holding on for dear life as he slammed you, table legs creaking underneath you rhythmically.

Levi had a perfect view of you as he rutted against you – the way your ass bounced flush against his hip, your arm muscles straining as you gripped the edge of the table harder and harder, the way the strands of your hair flew up and down with each motion, and how helplessly you squealed each time his tip hit your cervix – all of that sent him insane, unable to stop the silent whimpers that came out from his own mouth.

He had to restrain himself from going too fast – that’s how eager he was to finally sprawl you under him, after all this time you drove him out of his mind with your unstable behavior, hatred-driven glances and disobedience.

“Yes, yes, love it,” you wailed incoherently.

“Of course you do,” he huffed just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head backwards, stars spilling out of your head.

The way his dick breached you was literally driving you crazy – it was like a perfect fit, slipping soundly against your walls and hitting all the right spots at exactly the right time. Your cunt clenched around him on its own, making him groan at your artfulness. His fingers dug into the plush of your backside, thrusting into you without any mercy.

The coil in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter, your brain short-circuiting each time you heard Levi groan, the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin ringing against the walls.

“Oh, God,” you cried out as your bliss was rapidly closing in on you.

“No,” Levi countered as he pressed his back flush against yours, brushing his lips against your ear. “just me.”

His head hung down, burying itself in the crook of your neck as he finally spilt his seed inside of you with a low groan that sent you to your own release. You cried out as he panted heavily against your skin, your body slumping on the table completely.

You had to muster up the remaining grain of your strength when Levi stood up and pulled his pants on so you could to the same with your own. Your breathing was still erratic as you fumbled with the pair of strings in the hem of your pants, trying to tie them. Levi approached you and lightly swatted your trembling hands away, tying them for you.

You were lost in his gray eyes by now, not even knowing what to say at first, but this silence that ensued was kind of comforting, both of you assessing the situation.

He chuckled suddenly. “Why did you beat the shit out of Jaeger in the first place?”

You smiled awkwardly as you shook your head curtly, gluing your eyes to the ground. “Doesn’t matter. Stupid thing, really.”

“Alright.” he said, his voice low, as usual. “You can tell me all about it next time.”

His words made you look at him again, eyebrows slightly lifted, eyes full of sudden anticipation.

Next time?

You were kind of scared at the thought of getting together with Captain again, but you felt excited way more.

“Oh, and like I said,” he paused before leaving the room completely. “clean it.”

You remembered the shattered cup and this time failed to refrain a smirk that creeped upon your lips.

“Yes, Captain.”

He left after that, but you swear you saw a ghost of a smile on those harsh lips.

[swtki]

My Game - Spencer Reid x Reader

This is a part 2 to Teachers Pet

SUMMARY: After Y/Ns little test, she takes Dr. Reid up on his offer. She also takes him back to the apartment. 

WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, SMUT, FEM READER, PROFFESOR-STUDENT, TEACHER REID, ORAL (FEMALE RECIEVING), PENATRATIVE SEX, SEMI DOM-SUB

It had been three days since Dr. Reid emailed me. I hadn’t texted him yet, too afraid of not knowing what to say. When I pulled that little stunt at his desk, I expected nothing to come of it. Just seeing his cute and pink face was enough of a reward. But it was obvious to me in the days following, he wanted to cross his finish line.

My phone sat comfortably in my hands, the series of numbers lining the top of my screen. I had not an inkling of an idea of what I would say. Should I go casual? Professional? Sexy? I mean, did anyone ever know how to aproach their crush?

Y: It’s Y/N, sorry I took so long. I’ve been kinda busy.

S: No worries, I was beginning to think I had read the room incorrectly. What are your plans for Saturday night? Theres a great Italian restaurant next to where I’m staying in DC.

Y: That sounds wonderful, actually. I’ll meet you there at 7?

S: Perfect.

I reluctantly pulled my figure from the sofa, and soon eagerly jumping into the shower. When the water hit my face the entire day melted away, and left only the anticipation of that night. I felt so special, I mean I was living my most vivid fantasies and not every woman gets to do it with a genius professor.

With my makeup carefully applied, and my dress matching my shoes, I started down the stairs. As my heels made a clicking noise, I started to feel a familiar flutter in my stomach. I was nervous; First date nervous. Though I had met him many times, and most recently met his body with mine, the event of a first date was a pâté of emotions.

The door of the restaurant was cold against my hand. I didn’t expect a high end dining experience, and when I walked in the entry way I was glad it wasn’t. The entry way was filled with cozy items. The faded rose pattern on the wallpaper complimented the display of family photos.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a tall brunette man, it was a table for two.” I said to the hostess. She paused for a second, tapping on her tablet as she checks the current table descriptions.

“Ah yes, party of two for Reid?”

I confirmed and she led me through a hallway to our left, which led into a small dining area. The room walls were a burgundy color, illuminated by the candle sitting at the head of each table.

I thanked the woman as I walked toward Spencer. He looked a tad bit cleaner than usual, his hair was combed and tucked away behind his ears.

“Oh, here let me get that for you.” He rose from his seat and rushed over to the chair across from him.

“How gentleman like, Doctor.” He laughed and we both took our seats.

“Please, call me Spencer.” His form was more relaxed than it usually was in class, giving him a calmer and peaceful demeanor.

Dinner progressed, a glass of wine was nursed, and he insisted on paying our check. Though I had been on dates before, this felt like my first real adult date.

“How did you get here?” He inquired as we stepped onto the rough parking lot terrain.

“I took a cab, I’m thinking I may catch the train though.” I said. His mouth spread into a displeased expression.

“Nonsense, please let me drive you home. I would hate for those statistics we learned last week be applied in this manor.” I laughed and rolled my eyes. I hesitated to answer for a moment, instinctually I looked down and shifted my weight on my feet. The thought of him driving me home could end up in a number of ways; Mostly good. But, if I did take the train, it would end in a few ways; Mostly unmentionable.

“Alright, since you asked nicely.” His cheeks grew red as he avoided eye contact with me. I knew right then where our night would likely head.

“Would you like to come up? We can have a drink if you aren’t hell-bent on going to sleep before nine-thirty.” I joked with him.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to feel forced into anything because I know that theres a certain expectation when-“

“Spencer, if I didn’t want to fuck you, I wouldn’t have asked you up.”

Sure, having to say it in blatant terms is less than sexy, but thats what I adored about our dynamic at that point; I led the relationship.

I leaned into my fridge, purposefully bending over so my skirt lifted to show my ass.

“Well...fuck,” I said, “As it would turn out, someone stole my wine bottle and filled my fucking vodka bottle with water.” I stood up and shut the door, walking over to the counter inches away.

“One time I took the drink turn when it came to our friend-team-dinner-night, the bottle was forty dollars, which granted is the cheap wine more or less. To this day I still have no idea who stole the bottle, because I wanted to take it home.” Spencer reminisced. I laughed at his unusual way of trying to understand.

“Wasn’t really mine to begin with,” I started walking over to the sofa where he patiently sat. “I’m not of legal drinking age. But of course it tastes better when its forbidden, everything does.” I stepped in front of the man, his knees only an inch from my shin. "Can I touch you, Spencer?” I said in a soft voice, the lids of my eyes relaxed in a sweet shift.

“Y-yes.” He gasped, obviously so turned on by the way I stood over him, in power of him. I threaded his hair through my fingers and tugged back, pushing his head as far up as I could. His eyelids fell and he was no longer looking at me.

“Look at me, sweetheart. I want you to see everything.” He opened his eyes, his irises were colored with lust and desperation. I connected our lips in a long a sweet kiss. Rather than just having a mess of tongues, the kiss was filled to the brim with emotion, of pleasure that this was happening again. His lips were slightly swollen when I pulled away to unbutton his shirt. While I fiddled with the garment, he put his hands on my hips firmly.

“Can I- can you sit on my lap?” he asked, a red tint forming on his face. I smiled and obliged, sliding his shirt off of his lean torso. I started kissing him once more, this time I made sure to press my dripping panties against the large tent in his trousers.

“Would you like to take this to the bedroom?” I ask,hands resting comfortably on his neck.

“Please”, I stood and laced our hands together, leading him to my bedroom. Once we both entered through the doorway, I pushed him onto the bed, he fell softly.

I reached my hands behind my back to unzip my dress, as I felt it fall past my legs and onto the floor, I saw his eyes scan every detail of my body.

“One might say you were planning this.” He eyed my matching lace set.

“Wanted to make sure Spencer Reid had the best.” I replied, climbing on top of him so that I would be straddling him. I felt his hands connect to my waist as we kissed, his hands were warm and excited me even more. He pulled away, quickly pressing his lips to my neck and collarbone. My breath hitched in my throat as he bit down lightly on the skin. “Lets get these off, shall we?” I motioned to his pants, which had to be killing him right now. While he does that, I reach into my drawer and retrieve a condom, laying against the plush material of my pillows after I set it down on the table.

He gets on top of me , pressing his lips with mine as he rubs the back of my bra, signaling he wants me to take it off. I ,of course, reach back and unhook it, tossing it onto the floor. He grabs my tit while dancing his tongue with mine, making me more wet than I thought was possible. Usually, these actions signified a need for control, but when Spencer did it, it was like a desperate sixteen year old boy. Its clear he needed me.

“Can I...” he nods down to my cunt, still covered by the thin material of my panties.

“Can you what, Spencer?” I lace my fingers in his hair and pull, earning a soft groan from the man hovering over me.

“Can I please eat you out?” He begged. I smiled and pushed his head down, spreading my legs when his face met my stomach. He started by taking his thumb and rubbing over my clothed pussy. I bucked my hips, desperate for more friction. “Is it okay for me to take these off?” His eyes met mine, searching for confirmation. I smiled and nodded, moving my hands to stroke his hair rather than tug at it.

As his fingers latched onto the last piece of fabric that covered me, instinctually I pushed my hips upwards. He looked at me, silently asking if taking the garment off was still okay. When I bit my lip, a rose hue covered his face. He was flustered by me, by the escalation of us. But nevertheless, he slowly pulled off the last piece of modesty I had.

To re-assure him, I lightly tugged at his hair. Thankfully, he took the hint and licked a long stripe on my clit. My voice was caught in my throat as he continued making flat-tongued movements. I felt his hands slowly wrap around my thighs, pushing my heat into his face more than it already was.

He devoured me without hesitation, but when he pulled away for air he replaced it with two fingers and then when my stomach tensed and my eyes rolled back into my head, he used three. I finished with his mouth sucking on my bundle of nerves and his fingers buried inside me.

“Do you want to keep going?” He raised his head up and his thumb stroked my thigh, which he was still grasped onto.

“Yes, God yes please, Spencer.” I whined, the high fading away. He stood up off the bed and removed his strained boxers. He was beautiful; His lanky form was now a lean masculine type. I smiled at him, to which he obviously thought he was being laughed at. He couldn’t make eye contact with me, resulting to the floor instead. “Spencer,” I crawled towards the edge of my bed and placed my hands on his shoulders, “You are so gorgeous, the reason I’m smiling is because you always hide it in those sweater vests.” he relaxed.

“Thanks” he mumbles, still avoiding my eyes.

“Now please, come back here and let me take care of you.” He climbed back onto the bed while I rested against the pillows. He was nervous, and obviously he wanted to do it right. I could see his hands shaking as he unwrapped the condom and put it on.

“You’re sure?” He asks, the tip of his cock resting on the top of my inner thigh. He was easily six inches, my hand could probably wrap around and be too small.

“Yes, please fuck me.” He slowly inserted himself into my dripping cunt, causing me to let out a lewd string of words. Once again, my hands flung to his hair and tugged harshly, causing his arms to almost buckle beneath his own weight. I could feel his pelvis against mine, his muscular bottom torso pressed up against my clit. “Move, baby, its okay.” I reassure him. His hips pull away from mine, then snap back with a nice pressure. He quickly started to pick up his pace, small grunts escaping through his clenched jaw. “Do you like the feeling of your pathetic little cock inside my cunt? I bet you feel like a special little bitch now.” I moaned into his ear. “Well, are you going to tell me how much you enjoy my cunt?”.

“God, yes! I love it so fucking-“ his moan paused the sentence and he focused on getting his movements right.

“So fucking what? Go on, finish the sentence baby.”

“So fucking good, I love being inside of you so much!” He was practically whimpering in pleasure.

“Be a good boy and make me cum all over that pretty little cock of yours?” I struggled to contain my moans, I could not fall apart this quickly.

“Yes I will!” His fingers reached down to rub my clit, impressively keeping a steady rhythm. I felt the knot in my stomach becoming hotter and hotter as the minutes passed by.

“Oh my god, such a good- oh my god!” my eyes rolled back into my head as the impact of my orgasm was full forced. When my head cleared, I tugged on his hair, pulling his head so he could look me in the eye. “Gonna cum soon? Are you going to cum all inside of me?” his thrusts got off beat, he was close.

“Yes, I’m gonna-“

“Ask permission to cum, Spencer.”

“Can I please cum inside of you? Please?” He whines.

“Of course you can, baby.” With that he makes a strained moaning noise and his hips slowly stop moving. We’re both panting, while he flushes the condom I walk into the bathroom next to him. I turn to the shower and twist the hot water knob.

“We might as well get clean together, yeah?” I said.

“Yeah.” he smiles and kisses me once more.

[dragon-kazansky]

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 11

Zemo turns. Stark is looking right at him through that red and gold helmet. He has to win today. He has to win for you. You may hate him now over what happened back then, but he will always be in love with you. He wonders, are you watching him on TV now? Or are you completely done with him?

He wouldn't blame you if you were.

Being labelled a murderer isn't exactly something to celebrate. Stark had made sure he lived with that. Everything Zemo worked for, gone because of an accident.

Maybe if Pietro hadn't been driving a Stark vehicle, he would still be here today. The only car Stark ever builds that has had a high success rate is the one he drives himself.

Pietro's car malfunctioned. He couldn't turn the wheel. He crashed straight into the barrier, full speed. There was nothing left.

His life was over.

His engine flaring to life had him turning back to the track. He would win today. He had to. Even if he felt like a part of him was missing.

The engine. His breathing. The distant sound of the crowd. He let it all consume him. He was in the zone.

And then, he was off.

Stark kept in line with him. The pair of them darting across the track in perfect sync with each other. It was a game. A dangerous game. One Zemo may very well be done playing after this season.

Around the first bend.

Strange was just behind them, not getting too close. This rivalry was something he didn't want to get in the middle of. Every race he drives behind them, watching. Every race he wonders if something will happen.

One day, he is sure, it will.

They're still in line with one another as they approach the second bend. Tony, however, gets a little closer. Zemo doesn't look away from the road. He has to focus.

You might be watching.

The pair of them get round the bend with no issues as of yet. Tony is still too close for comfort, but Zemo will have to deal with it. He is relying on the third bend to put Stark back a bit. Once he's around it, he can give it all he's got.

However, Stark softens up a little. He falls back on the approach. Zemo didn't have enough time to think on it as his car malfunctions right under him. It locks, the wheel stuck. He can't slow down, and then-!

Hot. It's very hot.

Instinct kicks in. Zemo has never been in a situation like this before, but he has prepared for it. He has no time to panic as he focuses on getting out. He needs to get out.

The ground beneath him is a welcome feeling as he falls out, crawling away from his totalled car quickly.

The first ambulance, the one stationed nearest to the corner, arrives. They help him up and into the back, urgently looking him over.

Stark is approaching the line.

Zemo sits in the back of the ambulance. He let's them do what they have to do as he just sits there. His mind wanders to you. He hoped, in that moment, you hadn't been watching.

He realised right then and there that he no longer cared about winning. It wouldn't have been worth it anyway. Not without you there to celebrate with him.

Zemo was fine.

He had got out so quickly he was fine. They were still concerned for him, but he brushed them off. When he exited the ambulance, Sam and James were there.

"Worried?" He asked.

They turn and look at him, relief washing over them.

"We thought you were...."

"Dead?" He finished.

"Yeah. You alright?" Sam looked him up and down.

"I'm alive."

"What the Hell happened?"

"My car malfunctioned, so to speak. Everything locked up. I couldn't turn, I couldn't slow down. Yet, here I stand."

"Zemo, you don't think-?" Sam begins to ask.

"Who is to say? If there is anything left of my car once the fire is out, be my guest and take a look. Perhaps I should blow out now, cut my losses."

"Zemo, no. You can still race."

"Is there a point?"

"You miss them." James looks at Zemo with a stoic face.

"Of course I miss them."

Zemo looked like a broken man standing there. His fists were clenched and his jaw set.

"Y/N was watching," Sam told him.

Zemo looks at him.

"Sarah called Wanda. She had gone to see Y/N earlier. Apparently, Y/N had rushed into the back to watch the race when they heard it starting."

"Then Y/N saw that." Zemo's eyes drift to his car.

"You have got to call them," James said.

"What do I say?"

"The truth. You're in love with them. You're sorry for not being honest with them."

Zemo runs a hand down his face and sighs.

"I need to think."

He walks away, following the rest of the race track. The race finished moments ago. All cars, that hadn't also malfunctioned, crossing the line. Sam and Bucky watch him go.

Your boss had closed up shop for the rest of the day. He had sat with you in the office until you had managed to calm down a bit. You clutched your phone tightly in your hand as you sat in his office chair, waiting. You have begged him to turn the TV back on. Reports of the accident flooding in.

You were so scared.

There had been no confirmation on Zemo. They were just talking about what may have happened. You couldn't handle the not knowing.

You: Please tell me you're alive.

You: Reply, you bastard!

You: I need to know.

You had panicked texted him. You just needed any sign that he was alive and well. It didn't matter any more. You loved him, you believed him. You needed him to be alive.

"Staring at your phone isn't going to being an answer."

You lips your lip and nod softly.

"I know."

Your boss put some coffee on the table for you, but you weren't sure if you wanted it or not.

"Why haven't they said anything about him?"

"I don't know."

"Stark won, didn't he?"

"Yeah."

"Good for him," you say, bitterly.

"Maybe you should go home."

"I'll only sit and worry there. I could also use the company." You look at him with a small smile.

"Alright. Then, we shall sit here and wait. I'll stay here all night I have to."

You chuckle lightly, but your heart wasn't in it. Your heart was yearning for your man.

Was he still your man?

Damn it, you should have gone to the race.

Zemo sits in his locker room alone. His phone feels heavy in his hands. Your name is on his screen. His thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

He saw your texts.

It would be cruel of him not to reply.

When he saw your name pop up, his heart soared. You were worried. Scared. For him. Were you still in love with him?

He closed his eyes and sighed.

He was going to make things right, he had to. He had messed up everything enough.

Stark had a big storm coming.

His phone rang. He looked at the number. For a moment his heart sped up, thinking it was you. It wasn't. He didn't recognise the number.

"Hello?"

"Helmut?"

"Wanda?"

That was unexpected. He hadn't seen her since... well, since then.

"Did they tell you?"

"They said you had gone to see Y/N. Is this true?"

"Yes. They watched the race. I wanted to call and say, I forgive you. I never blamed you for what happened to my brother. It was Stark that had that car built for him."

"Yes, I remember."

"Is that little witch still with him?"

"Yes. She is here."

"I think it's time to reveal the truth to her. No more secrets, yes?"

"Yes." He smiles, though she obviously couldn't see it.

"I must go. I trust everything will work out."

"Yes. Wanda, thank you."

Wanda hangs up. Your messages pop back up. He smiles as he types. Once his message is sent, he gets up and walks out, determined.

Time to show Stark he isn't defeated by him. Zemo meant business now.

Your phone lights up.

You grab it quickly and open it, seeing the message on your phone. You could cry happy tears.

Your boss doesn't need to see the message to know who it is. Your whole face lights up as you look at him and smile.

Zemo: I need you too.

You have never moved so quickly in your life before.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle @fillechatoyante @lucky-luck-lucky @zemosimp420 @avengersofmischief @breadsquash @the-chaotic-cow

[lululawrence]

hello!! i was wondering if u had a werewolf tag for fics? i would search it but not sure how to use tumblr that well :)) if not do u have recs? LOVE U HAVE A NICE DAY<333

hi babes! i don't have one here... damn that's a fucking great idea. hahaha i'm HORRIBLY unorganized when it comes to tags for fics on tumblr. i mostly use ao3 for the organization of fics. so! that said, i defo DO have recs for you!

you didn't specify pairing, which makes me smile because i get to rec rare pairs in addition to larry and hope you read them hehe okay, here we go!

He Carries The Key by me (8k, NR, niall/louis) - this fic is the only one of mine i'll include, okay? promise haha but it is also one i wrote for wordplay just a week or two ago and it's werewolves and a pack fic and i just had a lot of fun. very soft. much fluff. many feels. i hope you enjoy. lol

There's Fur Everywhere by @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (4k, G, Harry/Louis) - this is a 5 times fic, and it's HYSTERICAL. it feels slightly spoilery for me to even be including it on this list, but also... it's still fucking hilarious. emmu is queen of the crack fic that makes you feel all the soft and wonderful things, and she doesn't disappoint with this one.

I Hear Them Calling for You by @jaerie / jaerie (6k, E, Harry/Louis) - this fic is... not for everyone. like at all. please please please read the tags and the summary and if you don't like it or it makes you uncomfortable, then close right out of it. as for ME i loved what she explored with it, all the emotions and the story and worldbuilding of it all. i thought it was fantastic and incredibly interesting. it is A/B/O, pack fic with claiming and... yeah. it's amazing.

Campus Creatures by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything and @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld (25k, E, Harry/Louis) - werewolves! vampires! fae! university! frat houses! science research positions being vied for! enemies to lovers! like... not sure what more you could ASK for, but there's also a fuck ton of humor and nudity and sexual tension and... it's just a lot of fun. can't go wrong, really. haha

From What I've Tasted of Desire by @evilovesyou / 4ureyesonly28 (72k, T, Harry/Louis) - okay so i'm including this one even though like... harry and louis aren't werewolves. but it's a twilight au, so there ARE werewolves and i'm ASSUMING you know twilight and therefore know that means you know they're pretty involved and... that's true for this fic too. ahha for real, though, i love evi's writing and this fic was one of my first introductions to it and it was a fun read, so i wanted to include it in case it had enough of the werewolf flair to entice you haha

Compete Against the Stars by @daggerandrose / amomentoflove (31k, M, Harry/Louis) - omg okay so this one is like ANGSTY AF and i FUCKING LOVE IT because it's one of those fics that you HOPE you have figured out, and you probably do, but also there's SO many twists and turns to it all that you just have NO idea how it's all gonna work out and omg are they gonna just ruin it all for themselves by being stupid and ahhhhh the tension of just FIGURING OUT HOW THEY GET IT ALL TO WORK OUT!!! and of course it does. hahaha but HOW??? this is a RIDE and in my mind feels like a longer fic than 31k in the best of ways, they did an amazing job of packing a LOT of world building and storytelling into those 31k.

the straight for your heart (wolfpack au) series by foreverkneeld and foundfamilyvevo (96k, T/G, Multiple or No pairings including Niall/Louis, Zayn/Liam, OT5, and Shawn/Niall) - This series is the ultimate hurt/comfort and healing pack fic series omg. it was recommended to me when i was in a super hard time and my anxiety was so bad i couldn't focus on anything. These short fics that all focused so much on healing and found family were exactly what i needed. so so soft, so lovely. I still haven't read them all because i'm saving them for when i need them. they're glorious.

when the air ran out and we both started running wild by darlingjustdont (48k, M, Nick/Louis) - OMG OKAY LISTEN THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVS. a tomlinshaw werewolf pack fic?! ahhhhhhhhh i was SO happy when i discovered this one. louis is alpha of the pack and things are... shaky, shall we say. there's a lot going on that he's worried about and then he meets nick and it's kind of enemies to lovers? okay, more than kind of. but omg the FEELS. SO. MANY. FEELS. but also danger and a;lsdgkhas;ldfkja just please read this and rave with me because i don't have many i can talk about this one with and i LOVE IT.

You Smell Like by mystic_believexx (185k, M, Harry/Louis) - i had no idea this fic was so long hahahaha wow ANYWAY louis is human, but he's always been close with harry and therefore basically a part of his pack. but then one day harry leaves and louis kind of accidentally becomes the pack alpha. even though he's human. but there's SO much more to it. there's just sooooo much with the friendship and the pack bond as well as the danger and trying to figure out what the hell is going on... it's just a LOT and one of those epic fics that i still think about even though i read it...a year and a half ago i guess. but it's amazing and i highly recommend it if the word count doesn't scare you away haha

Canyon Moon by @eeveelou / delsicle (41k, E, Harry/Louis) - this is a lion king au, made a/b/o werewolves! i really enjoyed this one a lot, actually, because i could absolutely see the parallels, but also the way it was adapted made it so it wasn't always obvious how it would all play out. it was a really interesting and cool world building as well.

The Truth I Can't Explain (Smoke and Mirrors) by @fallinglikethis / FallingLikeThis (9k, M, Harry/Louis) - ohhhhh this one is SO cool cause it's by tabby so she made it incredibly fun and fascinating to try to figure out. there's magic and mages and werewolves and feuds and they're basically on the eve of battle and holy cow it's just SO cool.

One Touch Is Never Enough by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (4k, E, Harry/Louis) - once again lauren delivers and there's just so much i keep giggling about with this because it is SO fun. there's a lot that louis is dealing with in this fic hahaha and the way she writes it all is so funny. the poor man just wants a fucking massage! lololol it's lighthearted, humorous, and basically filled with fluff, crack, and smut. hahaha

Knot Safe For Work by @jaerie / jaerie (6k, E, Harry/Louis) - a;sldkgha;lfdkjas listen i forgot about this fic until i found it in my bookmarks for werewolves because jenna writes so many fucking amazing fics that when i think of werewolves, i think of at least two others first, but i could NOT do this rec without this fic because now that i remember it exists i am going to have to go and read it again! hahaha harry's a werewolf, louis is a wizard, there's knotting dildos and table sex and... just read it. lolol

Saving's What I Need by @jaerie / jaerie (17k, M, Harry/Louis) - writer louis is out for a drive one day and he hits a dog. THIS POOR DOG! he takes it to the vet and tries his best to take care of it... but things are not as they seem. because yeah, harry is defo not a dog. lollllll this fic was hilarious and sweet and omg there's just so much to love about it. there were so many more emotions in it than i expected. loooove!

Out of the Wild by @jaerie / jaerie (22k, E, Harry/Louis) - this fic has such fun world building, which is actually a huge strength of jenna's fics and you'll hear me rave about it with all 50 of her fics that will end up on this rec list (not really 50, but ya know lol). louis is a fairly wild and undomesticated wolf and harry's from the city and they end up as roommates during the x factor process. oh my word this fic is so fun because of all the challenges they're going through PLUS the wolf side of things and just... the way they work together and navigate it all as well as falling for each other is pure gold.

Out With The Old, In With The New by, you guessed it, @jaerie / jaerie (7k, E, Harry/Louis) - listen, just. this one is smutty as hell and it's gonna take you some places that some people will be uncomfortable with, which is totally valid and fair. please be sure to read the tags and make your decision on whether or not to read accordingly, but also know that its written in a super interesting way that is also pretty amazing if you do decide to give it a shot. lol

Instincts by @marastarfar / StarFar ( 100k so far - it's a WIP!, T, Harry/Louis) - omg listen. i LOVE mara's fics so much and when this first posted it was a one shot little thing that was FASCINATING. i loved it! and then i was happily surprised when i learned more was added to it. and then it was turned into a wip and omg i am so far behind now but i trust mara with my life because i love everything i've read by them and what i've read of this so far is INCREDIBLE so just. yeah. lollll

There's a Power in What You Do by @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (7k, T, Harry/Louis) - i just read my comment i left on this one and it was just mainly me begging for time stamps because there wasn't any way for her to improve upon the perfection of this fic (nesting! softness! even a silly comment in her endnotes to perfectly cap it all!), but i still wanted to remain in the story just a bit longer and learn more about them. hahaha anyway, those time stamps aren't happening, but this fic is still complete perfection.

amaryllis by @hattalove / hattalove (147k, E, Harry/Louis) - for a long time this was thought of as THE werewolf fic. if anyone was talking about a werewolf fic, it was probably this one. is that still the case? probably. i'm not sure. ANYWAY. there's a REASON it was THE werewolf fic and that's because this is amazing. it sucks you in and you feel like you're truly a part of the action. it's filled with the vibe of found family and wanting to figure out what happened while also adjusting to your new life and just... so many feelings. so much angst. SO fantastically epic.

[scones-and-texting-and-murder]

Bookends

(This story was originally written for and published in the DeanCas Anthology back in 2018. )

Word Count: 2223 Rating: General ao3 link

Cas pulls as close to the door as he can, checking the rearview mirror to make sure he isn’t blocking traffic as he waits for Dean to get out of the car. Before heading inside, Dean ducks his head back in to smile at him. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

Instead of driving away, Cas stays there, watching until Dean pulls open the diner door. Leaning heavily on his cane, he shuffles more than walks, his bow-legged gait made stiff by the arthritis that wracks his joints. Cas waits until he’s safely inside, then pulls past the open handicapped space Dean stubbornly refuses to use, and finds an empty parking spot.

Cas’s car is boxy and utilitarian, and Dean often proclaims that he wouldn’t be caught dead behind the wheel of something so ugly. Cas plays along because giving up driving had been Dean’s toughest concession to age, but as his vision deteriorated and his reflexes slowed, it had become an unavoidable sacrifice. With replacement parts for the Impala harder and harder to come by, Dean had finally agreed to keep her stored safely away in their garage. Cas knew it pained him to see her shrouded under a tarp, her motor idle and useless, but Dean would rather enshrine her in pristine condition than risk one more run-in with a light pole or curb.

With his ugly car parked, Cas crosses the lot to join Dean inside. While he’s aged as well, aged to the point that nobody questions the two of them together, he’s been spared many of the maladies that Dean’s combat-wrecked body has endured, and he moves with relative ease. The best they can figure is that the grace he’d had on and off over the years left his body with a certain resilience to the passage of time. Cas can’t cure Dean as he once could, can’t ease the aches or slow the aging process, but he can use his own comparatively good health and mobility to take care of him.

Inside, Cas navigates past the hostess stand to find Dean at their usual booth, chatting with their usual waitress. The two of them go to this diner religiously each Sunday morning, where the pews are scuffed burgundy vinyl booths and the altar is the breakfast buffet with the generous senior discount. As always, Dean has maneuvered himself across the bench seat to make room for Cas to sit beside him. His cane rests against the wall in easy reach, the simple carved wooden handle belying the fact that the base unscrews to reveal a bayonet-like tip. It’s never been wielded as a weapon (although Dean uses it, still sheathed, to poke at aggressive pigeons who muscle in around their favorite park bench), but that potential made it “badass” enough to overcome Dean’s resistance to using it.

To Sam’s everlasting chagrin, Dean has kept all of his hair, and it’s turned a stunning silver. The crinkles around his eyes have deepened, meeting the roadmap of lines that cross his face. His shoulders are stooped, his joints are stiff, and Cas thinks he’s never been more beautiful. After so many seemingly certain ends, so many years assuming Dean would die young and bloodied, the fact that he’s living out a full, lengthy life is an unparallelled blessing. Cas marvels at the gift of days that have unfolded into decades, granting them time he never dreamed they’d have together here on earth.

As Cas settles into the booth, he smiles and greets their waitress.

“Two for the buffet?” she confirms as she pours their coffee. Cas doesn’t even have to check to know that she’ll leave Dean’s at a little more than half-full so he can lift it without the tremor in his hands sloshing it over the brim.

They drink their coffee quietly, simply enjoying the ritual of being here. Dean peers at the laminated card that lists the specials, even though he never orders off the menu.

“Shall I?” When Dean nods, Cas gets to his feet. “Any requests?”

“You know what I like,” Dean says, leaning over to swat at Cas’s butt.

Picking up two plates from the warmer, Cas slides them along the metal counter, filling them in tandem as he traverses the buffet. Pancakes are too difficult for Dean to get on a fork, but the crisp waffles are good. Bacon he can pick up and eat, and Cas uses the tongs to place precisely two strips on his plate. If Dean wants more, he can get up and get it himself.

Dean can argue with Cas’s choices, but they’d had a hell of a scare a few years back. Cas will never forget the look on Dean’s face when their phone rang in the middle of the night, alerting them that Sam had been taken to the hospital in an ambulance. They’d rushed there themselves, Cas driving in silence, knowing that nothing short of seeing Sam with his own two eyes could reassure Dean. Thankfully, it had been a mild heart attack and, after spending a few days in the hospital, the discharge plan called for cardiac rehab and an appointment with a nutritionist. With Sam’s release imminent, Dean had relaxed enough to crow at the irony. “Don’t either of you try to tell me what to eat ever again. Mr. Organic Produce is the one lying in the hospital bed while my pork-rind-fueled ticker is going strong.”

Still pale, Sam’s brow furrowed with resignation. “I’m beginning to think you can’t die.”

Dean jabbed a finger in his direction. “You don’t get to go first. We have a deal.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam lifted the hand without the IV in a mock salute.

“That’s more like it,” Dean said. “Speaking of which, I need a snack.”

Cas helped him up and they walked to the elevator that would take them to the cafeteria. As they waited for it to arrive, Dean pulled Cas into a hug. Cas left a hand on his shoulder when they stepped apart again. “All right?”

Dean nodded, his green eyes shining with tears. “I’m glad you’re here.” Cas started to respond, to remind him that there was nowhere else he would be, but Dean cut him off. “I know you know. But I wanted to say it anyhow.”

Cas noticed a change after that. Dean was still the same stubborn mule Cas had fallen in love with, but he gradually became more willing to let Cas help. And somehow, Cas loved him even more for it. He loved seeing the slow-blossoming acceptance that came when Dean stopped seeing Cas’s help as a sign of weakness.

Now, standing in front of the steaming trays of food, Cas considers what else to add to their plates. He bypasses the cauldron of oatmeal (they eat that at home most mornings) and continues along the buffet. There’s a tremendous satisfaction in being allowed to care for this man who has done so much for so many and asked for so little in return. In fact, Dean has now embraced this new role so fully—no longer questioning what he deserves, or grudgingly accepting help, but full-on enjoyment of being doted on—that Cas has to be careful he doesn’t get lazy. There’s nothing Cas would rather do than settle Dean in front of a sunny window, snug in the recliner for Cas to wait on like a pampered cat, but he knows that sort of inactivity would do Dean’s joints and his heart no favors. So he watches Dean’s diet and insists on them taking slow walks after breakfast when his energy is highest.

Their neighborhood is a mix of young and old and everyone knows the two Mr. Winchesters who circle the block on days when the weather permits. The kids on bikes and scooters know to give them a wide berth, their parents warning them that the old men need the entire sidewalk, but they call out their hellos as they go by. They’re friendly with everyone except the woman who lives on the corner. Dean is convinced she’s a demon, but Cas suspects his distrust of her stems more from the fact that she seems immune to his charm. (Whatever the reason, he’s had to talk Dean out of chalking a devil’s trap inside her mailbox more than once.) They chat with their neighbors about the weather and the score of last night’s ballgame, and it’s so painfully normal that Cas sometimes feels his throat tighten up at the wonder of it all.

When Cas returns to their booth, Dean examines his plate. “They outta bacon?”

Cas cuts the waffle into manageable pieces and peels the wrapper from the muffin before sliding Dean’s plate over. “You know the deal.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says. “You just like to look at my ass when I get up.”

They eat in congenial silence with Dean methodically working his way around his plate, eating everything heartily, even the fruit. Sitting next to him, Cas can easily scoop up any bites that miss his mouth, plucking them from Dean’s lap or his shirt.

“You two good?” The waitress asks when she comes to refill their coffees. “Need anything?”

Dean swallows the bite of muffin he’s working on, and rests his hand on top of Cas’s. “I’ve got everything I need right here. An actual angel, this one.”

She nods agreeably. “I can almost see his halo.”

Cas has learned that an old man can say just about anything and receive an indulgent smile in return. When Dean references angels or demons or the apocalypse, people assume he’s speaking in metaphor and they’ll nod pleasantly. Sometimes he’ll do it purely for effect, telling rambling tales from their past for the sheer enjoyment of being able to speak openly. He can’t always keep the details straight, but Cas is there to remind him. Some days, though, he seems to lose where he is in time, and there’s nothing Cas can do for that. Cas has taken to keeping a watchful eye on him in the late afternoons when he likes to doze on the couch with their one-eyed black cat curled up on his chest. Cas stays close in case he wakes from his nap agitated, calling for Cas, wanting to know where Sam is. Cas helps him to sit up as the cat springs down and scurries away.

“Don’t go,” he says again and again, and Cas takes him in his arms, assuring Dean that he’s here and reminding him that Sam is safe at his own home. He holds him until Dean shakily dismisses it all as just a bad dream.

The unfairness of it overwhelms Cas, and each time he’s left filled with wrath. These final years should be spent in well-earned peace, but instead Dean seems cursed with reliving his most frightening memories, traumatized anew by old, familiar fears. If Dean’s mind is destined to slip, why can’t it be toward blissful forgetting? What Dean has endured goes beyond what any human should; to ask him to bear it again is nothing short of cruel. But it’s a torture chamber created in his own mind, and all Cas can do is sit helplessly by, doing his best to ground Dean and bring him back to the present.

Cas looks at Dean’s empty plate. “Did you want to get some more?”

“Nah.” He’s full and happy and it’s time for their walk.

The waitress arrives to clear their plates. As he does every week, Dean asks if she needs to see his ID for the senior discount. As she does every week, she pretends to consider it before leaving the check. “You boys take your time.”

“Tip her well,” Dean says, leaning in to supervise Cas as he signs the bill.

“I always do,” Cas assures him.

When they’re ready to leave, Cas stands next to the banquette, waiting for Dean to retrieve his cane and slide himself to the edge. Using a combination of the cane and Cas’s extended arm, Dean hoists himself upright, groaning a little. Cas keeps a firm hold on him until he’s steady on his feet. Dean still dresses in layers, but these days it’s because he gets chilled easily. He favors heavy knit cardigans and as long as Cas gets the zipper started for him he can tug it up or down as needed. Cas checks him for crumbs then together they walk through the other tables crowded with families. They continue by the hostess station where a woman is wiping down menus. “See you next week,” she calls as they pass.

Cas steps forward to push open the door, and stands holding it. “Watch your step,” he says as he always does, pointing toward the raised metal threshold of the doorway.

Using his cane to steady himself, Dean shuffles his way over it, then stops to lay his hand on Cas’s cheek. His knuckles are gnarled, the skin of his palm is dry and warm, and Cas feels the same flare of awe go through him as he has since the moment he first found this glorious soul in the depths of hell.

“I am the luckiest man who has ever lived,” Dean says.

Cas kisses his palm, then takes his arm to help him on his way.