#is it really a drabble? or my unhinged thoughts

[seongwars]

hiraeth | jeon wonwoo

model!wonwoo x veterinarian!reader genre: fluff, no real angst

I really want to start my wonwoo series but I have too many wips at the moment so this will have to suffice 😭

You and Wonwoo grew up as childhood friends and next-door neighbors in a small countryside town. You both dreamed of moving to the city—you to become a veterinarian and him to pursue a career as a photographer.

But tragedy struck when your sister and brother-in-law were killed in a car accident, leaving behind your baby niece. You decided to stay in your hometown, attending a local university to take care of your niece and grandmother. Meanwhile, Wonwoo moved to the city, where he was unexpectedly street-cast as a model and quickly rose to fame.

Your friendship falls apart when Wonwoo comes home for winter break, and you both get into a heated argument when he tells you that he's ashamed he grew up in a place like this and that you'd never be good enough to make it like he did.

That was the last time you'd ever spoken to him.

A decade later, Wonwoo unexpectedly returns home, shocking everyone. No one knows why, but the paparazzi and fans flood the town trying to figure out his whereabouts. Wonwoo tries to evade the paparazzi and his rabid fans and hides out in Mr. Kwon's barn.

Meanwhile you're helping Mr. Kwon find his missing cow, and it turns out she gave birth to a calf in a field. All is well until a bunch of cars speed by, potentially stressing out the cow and her calf. Stupid city slickers!

You return to the barn and find Wonwoo hiding. Obviously, you rebuff him but then point out he's covered in poop.

Later at dinner, his dad reveals that these rich developers keep coming to town trying to convince people to sell their land and there's lots of resistance from the locals. But they keep getting threatened by these city folk!

Oh and you're being romanced by Choi Seungcheol, your niece's gym teacher.

Wonwoo doesn't like that.

You and Wonwoo somehow always seem to cross paths. Whether its dropping your niece off at school or making a farm call, he always has on a dumb disguise.

The only person in town who seems thrilled about the sudden rise in tourism is the town head, Lee Jihoon. Because money.

Sometime later, your grandmother invites Wonwoo and his dad over for dinner, and lo and behold Choi Seungcheol is also there.

It turns out that Seungcheol is originally from the city but took the teaching job in the countryside because it was too competitive in the city. Sure, Jan.

You get an emergency call from Mr. Kim because his dog Kimja is having a difficult labor. You rush over, doing everything you can to help her. Despite your best efforts, Kimja doesn’t make it, and neither do the rest of the litter, except for one tiny, puppy.

Wonwoo, still awake, sees you coming home and you're a sobbing mess. He musters the courage to reach out to you, and you kind of just rant about how you did everything to try and help her and the rest of the litter but you failed.

"You did your best and that's all that matters."

You bury your face in his shoulder, unable to stop the tears. It’s been years since you’ve felt this defeated. As a veterinarian, you’ve faced so many challenges, but nothing like this. Never something so completely out of your control.

Wonwoo admits that he came home because he also felt like a failure. He was supposed to play the lead role in an up-and-coming movie by the famous director Yoon Jeonghan, but the project was put on hold due to Jeonghan's frustration with Wonwoo's inability to act convincingly as they looked for a new lead.

"He said I couldn't act my way out of a paper bag."

So, Wonwoo came home to reevaluate his life choices and decide if he could start over.

You tell him he absolutely can, that it's not too late. But that he shouldn't give up or let some city boy take his place.

"You're gonna let some city boy prove he's better than you? Go take back what's yours!"

You both reconcile and you go home.

The next day, those darn developers come back, and the townsfolk are out protesting. You, your grandma, your niece, Wonwoo, and his dad are all there, standing with the protestors.

One of the developers recognizes him, even with glasses, and mentions that his daughter is a big fan.

"Wonwoo? Famous? Nahhh," the townsfolk laugh, waving it off like the developer must have mistaken him for someone else.

The developers approach Wonwoo and attempt to sway him to their side. They want him to convince the town to sell their land so they can build their fancy golf course. But Wonwoo refuses outright because this is the place that raised him, and no amount of money or pressure can change that.

Using his star power, Wonwoo pulls every string he can to get the developers to back off. In the process, he uncovers a shocking twist: Turns out, Seungcheol was a spy for the developers and, to top it off, the son of one of them!

Wonwoo tells you the truth, and with a heavy heart, you end things with Seungcheol.

"He was too perfect," you sighed.

Thanks to the power of privilege and friendship, Wonwoo manages to help save the town from the developers.

While everyone is celebrating, Wonwoo tells you he's going to go back to the city and convince Director Yoon to give him another shot.

"Make sure you rub it in his face when you win an award for that role."

Over the next few months, Wonwoo visits home between shoots, and you both rekindle your friendship—and something more. It's in the way his eyes linger on you just a moment too long.

Or after a particularly long day, you find yourselves sitting on the roof of his parent's house, eating ramen. Somewhere between conversations of the past and future, his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining in a quiet, tender gesture.

The night of the Golden Carat Awards rolls around, and everyone gathers in the courtyard of the town center to watch the ceremony.

Wonwoo’s name is announced among the nominees for Best New Actor, and the crowd quiets instantly.

“And the winner for Best New Actor is…” The announcer pauses dramatically, drawing out the moment.

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

When his name is called, you let out a little gasp, unable to help the way a smile breaks across your face as the crowed erupts into chaos. Wonwoo’s dad, who had been sitting quietly at the start of the evening, is now sobbing uncontrollably.

“That’s my son!”

Your heart swells with pride as the camera pans to Wonwoo, standing from his seat to hug the people around him before making his way to the stage.

“I really didn’t think I’d be standing here tonight. Thank you to the Golden Carat committee, my team, the amazing cast and crew I’ve been lucky enough to work with—and, of course, my fans. None of this would’ve been possible without you.”

Wonwoo pauses, glancing down at the trophy for a moment. You wonder if he’s collecting his thoughts or trying not to cry. Then, he looks back up, his expression softer now, almost shy.

“I’d like to thank my family for their unwavering support,” he continues, his voice quieter but no less heartfelt. “And…” He hesitates, his lips curling into a faint smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“My guiding light. Someone who’s been my source of inspiration to keep fighting against those city boys, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

The courtyard falls silent as every single person turns to look at you and you can't help but sink lower into your chair.

“Marry him already!” Mr. Kim yells.

When Wonwoo returns, he’s standing on your doorstep with a bouquet of wildflowers your niece helped him pick out, grinning from ear to ear. He promises that he'd be happy waiting for you to come home, taking care of the laundry while you help animals.

So you take him up on his offer.

[moonlight-prose]

I either want to tend to Gabriel’s wounds or make some with my nails 😏

bound in the strands of permanence

a/n: knowing how intense his battles get when monster hunting, he must be so numb to the pain. because of course he is. it's been centuries of life, countless wounds, and he's unable to stop from wanting that infliction back. but in a different way. i really just word vommitted cause this was meant to be a drabble. my bad.

summary: he walked with monsters in the night, claiming their lives for a vendetta placed upon him by the church. but he found peace in daylight with the touch of your healing hands.

word count: 1.9k+

pairing: gabriel van helsing x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY!!, love, tending to wounds, pain kink, masochism, tw: blood, breeding kink, p in v sex, rough sex, they're unhinged and in love, dirty talk, forever.

Pain was inconsequential in the grand scheme of being God's right hand. Immortality ran through his veins like a poison without an antidote. He couldn't necessarily die. People have tried, monsters have nearly succeeded, but death never asked for him to deign its doorstep.

He was bound to life on a planet riddled with evil—destined to drag each horrid creature to the pits of hell with him.

But pain was a different matter altogether.

After so many wounds, knives, bullets, arrows, he could no longer register the nerves that stretched to and fro beneath his body. They were there. Unmistakable with the phantom aches and near deaths that still plagued his eternal soul. But remembering why they came to be eventually rescinded to the back of his mind—an afterthought to all the detriments of his waking life.

Years went by before he dared to ask someone for help. But a particularly nasty wound to his shoulder was out of reach even for him. Which is how he came to stumble onto your small quarters in the furthest reaches of the Vatican.

There were other healers, other doctors who could have easily stitched up his wound. But you weren't a member of the church.

He found that ironic.

Neither of you mentioned how long it'd been since he stumbled through your doors, shoving a bag of coins into your hand, before falling onto the cleared wooden table meant for patients in the city. Not that either of you couldn't remember it. Two years, three months, and two brand new flesh wounds that barely needed wrapping.

Yet he still came anyway.

"Turn into a beast again?" you questioned, wrapped the cloth tight along his scarred abdomen.

He smiled, shuddering at the icy touch of your hands. "That was one time."

"One time too many."

"And if it hadn't of happened I wouldn't have a reason to come here."

You scoffed, tying the knot painfully, relishing a bit in the harsh grunt he let out. "You don't need a reason to come see me Gabriel."

"It's impolite to knock on a lady's door this late without a reason." He shook his head, unconsciously sliding his hand over yours that remained on his wound. "I'm not one to mistreat a lady."

"I'm hardly that. They won't even let me in the fucking church–"

Sharp eyes dragged up to your face, glaring at the pout in your lips that formed a curse. He may have been a man who found your way of life refreshing, but he was still devoted to the God above. Your mouth curled into a wry smile—hand moving to tip his chin up. To remove his gaze and place it where you wanted him to truly look.

"It's not right how they treat you," he rasped.

The familiar dark cloud of grief began to drip into his iris, shrouding his once sharp gaze that pierced each part of your soul. They called him God's right hand. The man who was sent from the heavens above. You merely thought of him as the man who gripped your heart in an iron fist—reluctant to let you go.

"I'm not one of you."

He sighed. "You could be."

"Only through the binds of marriage would I enter that place and even then, I don't entirely wish to follow rules not made of my own volition."

"Marriage," he mumbled, eyes dropping to the lip you worried between your teeth. "To whom, if I may ask?"

"To no one."

"Why?"

The way he looked at you is what threw you off guard. Intense, without boundaries that may have been set in place for other patients. He weeded out your deepest fears and silently vowed to rip each one apart with his bare hands. Monsters walked beside him in the night, but Gabriel Van Helsing was doomed to wander the daylight alone. Yet he found...he didn't want to anymore.

"If I were to ask..."

Your knees almost buckled - the weight of his inquiry slamming directly into your chest. "Ask me what?"

Gabriel looked at you as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. As if nothing felt more right than the words about to spill from his lips. To be bound to a soul meant permanence in the eyes of his God, and how lovely it might be.

To have someone he could be permanent with.

"To marry me darling."

There remained an answer to this madness. A final solemn vow you might have otherwise been able to say. But his confession hung in the air like a cloud that refused to dissipate with the change in weather. When had he fallen in love? When had he finally relented to the ache that built in his chest?

When did he realize that he came here at night for you and not for his wounds?

You wanted to give him something in return—a promise that could outlast all that threatened to rip him from you.

So you kissed him. You dragged him close—your hand tangling in his hair—and caught his lips in a kiss that damn near threw him off the table. He didn't expect to finally taste you, his heart hammering an unsteady beat in his chest. But he certainly wasn't about to complain. He met your actions in kind, gripping onto the flesh of your hips with a soft groan.

His tongue met yours—hesitance bleeding through each action—and when he found no resistance he finally devoured what he hungered for. Standing to his full height, he licked into your mouth, his hand gripping the back of your neck painfully to keep you close. Neither of you even registered what happened when he crowded you against the heavy wooden door sealed shut with a lock.

"Gabriel," you sighed, bending to let him drag his tongue down your throat.

"Say yes," he growled, rucking up your skirts as you worked the belt of his pants still coated in grime and dust. "Marry me. Be mine forever."

"God above." A gasp tore from your chest when he notched his dripping cock at your entrance.

He held you there, fixing his gaze on your face, even as you tried to drag your hips forward. "Darling."

"I want..."

"What?"

A moan rumbled in his chest when you finally looked at him—the love you kept locked away pouring out into the furrow of your brows. The tears that fell down your cheeks. Hiding it felt pointless at this time. Because you knew your answer, you knew the second he stumbled through your door demanding you help him. You knew it the moment his gaze locked on yours.

Forever would be spent here. In the safety of his hold.

"I'll marry you," you breathed.

There were few times you managed to see this man smile. Once or twice when you told a joke. More often due to the biting pain on his body as you stitched him up—a defense mechanism rather than agonizing grunts he used to give you. And now when your words settled in his mind - solidifying something he wondered about for years.

His lips bloomed into a smile that met his eyes for the very first time. Light practically shone directly from the hazel iris.

You expected him to give you an answer, a shower of words full of love. Instead he sunk into you with a harsh groan, his forehead falling to yours, mouth swallowing the cry that erupted from your chest.

Lovers existed in your life before him—a sprinkle of men who once or twice believed you'd be their wife one day. But none of them compared to the one before you. Gabriel stretched you wide enough to hurt, but he quickly sought out the small bud pulsing for attention—circling it slowly with each shallow thrust.

Your legs shook under the sensations, nails digging into his bare shoulders, and for the first time...he felt pain.

A fractured cry escaped his mouth, finding its way into yours as you sharply cut him to ground yourself. Panic flooded your veins at the thought of hurting him. Only to feel his hips slam into yours, impaling you on his twitching cock spurting precum like a broken faucet.

"Again," he rumbled, pulling out at an achingly slow pace. Only to punch back in and drag out a shout from the depths of your stomach. "Hurt me again."

"But–"

"Do it."

Cutting your nails down his back—blood welling to the surface immediately—you felt his entire body shudder. His head tipping back as he fucked into you fast enough to hurt. There was no rhythm to how he moved. Rutting into you wildly like the beast he once became—his body overwhelmed with a mix of pain and pleasure. Agony merging together with the love he felt for you.

The wet squelch of your cunt swallowing him in with each thrust echoed in the small confines of your room. Each one followed by the loud resounding echo of your moans and his ragged grunts. You felt unhinged. Probably looked like it too.

But pleasure was creeping up on you faster than you could anticipate. Your nails marred his skin with each blinding strike of his cock against your walls. It drowned you. Swallowed you up with the promise to spit you back out later.

You'd never felt so whole before.

"I can feel her begging," he gasped against your lips, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his. "Will you let me?"

"Uh-huh."

He smiled, harsh and unforgiving. "We'll have a little one running around by the time our vows are exchanged mea amor."

His words struck something in your chest—dragging out the darkest secret you kept hidden each time he looked at you. Binding yourself with him through the bonds of marriage was one thing. Having his child remained something else entirely. You almost loathed how much you loved the idea.

"Oh–"

"You'll make me a sinner," he babbled, stimulating your clit until pain began to spark up your spine. "A child before marriage. What will God think?"

"G-Gabriel!" A violent tremble began in your legs, working up your body until he was forced to hold you up with his body weight. "I-I can feel it."

He chuckled, speeding up just enough to push you over the edge. A scream echoing off the stone walls—ringing in his ears as your walls clamped down, a gush of cum coating down to his balls. What he wouldn't give to see that again. Your face screwed up in pleasure, pain bleeding into his body with each scratch of your nails.

"It will simply have to take," he gasped, spilling into you with a cry of his own.

Seconds bled into a minute and yet he couldn't stop cumming. The sticky warmth of it trailed down your legs and dripped onto the floor. And he merely shoved back into your—keeping it from spilling out entirely. Intent on keeping each promise he made.

Kissing your cheeks, he found your lips with a sigh. "Take this."

"What?" you mumbled, vision blurry with tears.

The cold kiss of metal on your finger stirred you back to life. "Until I find a jewel meant to sit on your hand."

His insignia burned through your chest, claiming you under the very name he sought to learn more about. You were to be his. A Van Helsing of your own volition. It should have terrified you.

Yet the fear was nowhere to be found.

"I love you Gabriel. I should have told you years ago..."

With a soft kiss to your forehead, he curled his arms around your back. "Then tell me again tomorrow."

And each day after that.

[bangtanintotheroom]

On the Nose (M)

I'ma put this pussy on your face

Open up boy, come and get a taste

🔊 just wanna - iggy azalea (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: Dokyeom x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Humor, Smut, Friends to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 2.5k

• Summary: Seokmin thinks his nose might be too big. You’re quick to give him reasons as to why he’s wrong.

• Warnings/themes: insecurity, reassurance, OC with the compliments 🥹, Seokmin getting carried away, face-sitting, oral (f. receiving), groping, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

• Notes: Look, all I'm going to say is that my thing for noses flares up whenever I look at DK and that was the inspo for this drabble. So sit and enjoy AJ's unhinged mind 🤪✨ thanks again to @wooahaeproductions for being an awesome beta! 💖

Reminder that I have a permanent taglist if you’re interested in all future fics I post!

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Is my nose too big?”

Your friend’s out of nowhere question made you pause your mobile game and look up in bewilderment. You found him standing in front of his dresser, head leaned in close to the mirror.

“What? No, it’s not.”

Seokmin hummed, the tone unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You can be honest with me, y’know.”

Frowning deeply, you set your phone down and rose from the bed to walk over and stand next to him.

“Seokmin, why would I lie? Your nose is fine. Did someone say something about it?”

“No…”

His trailing off did not deter you from digging deeper.

“Seokmin.”

Your biting tone and hard stare made him flinch, not wanting to feel your wrath.

“No one said anything, per se, but they were looking. Really hard.”

“Who?”

Seokmin’s reflection shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Multiple people. We’d be having a conversation and I’d just notice their eyes going to my nose at some point.”

His explanation gave you some clarity now, but were they really thinking negative thoughts about it? You couldn’t understand why the poor guy was so concerned about his nose all of a sudden. To you, it was one of his best features.

Yes, he had a blinding smile. Yes, you would kill to have his cheekbones. Yes, he was just a handsome guy in general.

But having a dignified and regal nose increased his looks by at least fifty percent (if you were being modest).

It just suited him so well that you couldn’t picture him with anything more basic or minuscule. Anything less pointy and upright would not fit Lee Seokmin.

“Seokmin, maybe they were looking because they like it.”

Your friend turned away from the mirror to study you with interest.

“You think so?”

You gazed up at him confidently.

“I know so.”

“But don’t people usually prefer smaller noses?”

A scoff left before you explained, “Fuck what beauty standards say, I think big noses are one of the best things anyone could have. Think about it. When people get plastic surgery, they can only go smaller, not bigger, right?”

”Right…”

“So it’s something that’s natural and only special people are blessed with! Like yourself!”

Your reassurance was paired with a tap to said special feature, pulling a bright grin from Seokmin.

“Y/N, you know just how to cheer me up, don’t you?”

“Of course, dummy. That’s what friends are for!”

The both of you giggled, the atmosphere lighter than before due to your affirmations. It felt good to ease his worries, but as you laughed, one last fact came to your brain.

It wasn’t as innocent as the previous ones, but it was a truth for you. One you had personal experience with on more than one occasion.

“Seokmin.”

“Hm?”

“You know what else big noses are really good for?”

Seokmin’s dark brown eyes watched you with curiosity and a hint of eagerness.

“What?”

You looked up at him, face blank like a sheet of paper.

“Sitting on.”

He became a cartoon character immediately, eyes bugging and mouth flying open to let out a yelp while his hands covered his ears.

“Y/N! What?!”

“Hey—” You reached up to rip his palms down so he could hear properly. “—it’s true!”

“Is it, you…you…pervert? Or are you just making things up to make me feel better?!”

A scowl came across your face as you lightly punched his arm.

“I’m serious, idiot! Have you never heard of a girl using someone’s nose to get off?”

“No! Well, I mean, maybe, but I wasn’t paying attention if anyone did say that.”

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms and readied yourself to continue convincing him.

“It’s true, okay?”

Seokmin blinked before squinting his eyes.

“And who’s your source?”

You met him with nothing but passiveness.

“Me, myself and I.”

All he could do was gape at you like a fish, stunned that you were revealing such an intimate secret about yourself.

Now, you were used to Seokmin’s dramatic reactions to mundane or extreme situations, but he usually did it out of fun. Yet something about the way his eyes darted all over your face told you that it was genuine astonishment he gave.

Which led to you challenging, “What, you’ve never had anyone sit on your face before?”

“No!”

Huh. Shocker.

“Really?”

His frantic nod only made your brows raise in wonder. It was a shame that this man had never been privy to the act. God strategically placed his nose at such an angle to reach crevices deep within women and it was being wasted for everything else but that.

An idea began brewing in you, wanting to convince him that he was missing out on something fun.

Licking your lips, you cocked your head to the side and let your suggestion out.

“Wanna try?”

Seokmin became too stunned to speak. All he could do was sputter at your offer.

“I— Y/N, you—!”

“Seokmin, I’m serious. It’s an experience.”

The way you grinned slyly was akin to suggesting your friend cut class with you, not let you use his face as a grinding pad.

“How am I going to convince you if you won’t let me sit on your face?”

Seokmin’s ajar mouth finally shut, jaw clenched as he looked you over from head to toe, gauging the seriousness of your offer. He saw little deceit and seemed to relax a bit.

“Y/N…would you really do that?”

You nodded.

“If it’ll make you feel better about your nose, absolutely. You’re welcome to say no if you don’t want to, though.”

The other pulled in his lower lip as he mulled over his answer. You were middle of the road right now. If he said no, you would take no offense and carry on like nothing happened. But if he said yes…

“Then…let’s try it.”

Oh. Neat!

Smiling in triumph, you held your arm out towards the bed.

“Go get comfortable.”

Seokmin’s lips quirked lightly at your instructions, walking over to lie on his back in the middle of the mattress. His head lifted to peer at you with query.

“Is this a good position?”

“Perfect. You’re a beginner, so it’s best if you stay completely flat.”

Humming at your reasoning, his eyes widened when your hands reached for your bottoms, undoing them as if you were undressing at the end of a long day. You saw him visibly swallow when your pants pooled around your ankles. But then he clutched the sheets when your fingers crept under the elastic of your panties, sliding them down your legs.

Seokmin tried his best to look less petrified as you looked up after stepping out of your clothes and walked over. Climbing onto the bed, you kneeled next to his torso, raising a brow down at him.

“Ready for me?”

An audible gulp came from your friend before he nodded quickly. With a sigh, you eased, “I’m not gonna suffocate you. Relax.”

The reminder seemed to lessen his nerves as he laid back again, giving you a jerk of his chin. The invitation prompted you to straddle his chest and keep an eye on his facial expression, only to catch him staring between your legs.

“What?”

Seokmin’s cheeks reddened before he shook his head quickly. “N-Nothing. So how does this go?”

“Literally just eat me out like you would with any other girl. But throw your nose into the mix.”

“Like, nudge you with it?”

“Mhm. Just follow your instincts, there’s not much wrong you can do with it.”

The man underneath you nodded before taking in a deep breath. As soon as he motioned you to scoot up with his eyes, you moved forward to hover over his lips. Trusting your core to keep you balanced, you let out your own held breath.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Seokmin gave a thumbs up, waiting until you lowered down so your folds were a whisper away from his mouth. He leaned up to brush his lips against them, the light touch making your spine straighten. It felt as if he was testing the waters, wanting to see just how sensitive you were. But he didn’t wait long to up the pressure, pulling the quietest of gasps out.

“Better?”

You would’ve giggled at the way his voice came out somewhat muffled if it wasn’t for the warmth starting to build in your gut.

“Yeah. Just do what you usually do, ‘Min.”

“Let me know if I have to switch it up.”

He returned to work, bringing his tongue into the mix to trace up and down. A louder noise came from your mouth at the thorough sensation, eyes fluttering. The question of whether Lee Seokmin was good at oral never crossed your mind, but now the answer was going to remain cemented in there.

Especially when the appendage sunk in between to run up and down your entrance.

“Oh shit—”

You were too distracted to see Seokmin’s eyes crinkle at your low moan, continuing the action to be rewarded with more. But after a while of this, you remembered the main reason why this was even happening in the first place. Swallowing a sound, you croaked out, “Seokmin.”

“Mm?”

“Your nose—”

The reminder had him make what you imagined was a noise of realization. And just like you wanted, the end of something soft yet sharp nudged your swollen clit.

“Ah— There you go.”

You gave encouragement, hoping it would push your friend to use his God-given gift to the fullest. It took some time, but Seokmin nuzzled the bud harder while simultaneously working his tongue below. Your warmth expanded into a tingling heat that traveled up and down your spine and into your fingers and toes, soft pants beginning to fall from your agape mouth.

You weren’t sure how long he had been at it, but you began to feel the telltale signs of a climax approaching. Not wanting to throw him off his game, you bit your tongue and allowed yourself to continue enjoying this experience of Seokmin learning the benefits of having a perfectly sculpted nose.

As the throes of ecstasy began to wash over your body, you hoped that he would carry this lesson through the rest of his life to treat any lucky girl.

Panting softly as you came down, the attention between your legs paused for a bit. But just as you were about to climb off and congratulate your friend for a job well done, the motions started up again, forcing you to gasp in sensitivity.

“’Min, what are you—”

A harsh bump to your still throbbing clit interrupted your query and a poke to your twitching cunt silenced you completely. All you could do was sit above Seokmin in utter shock as he continued to please you with his mouth.

Your complete surprise melted the further he went, brain shutting down to simply enjoy what he was giving you. At one point, you felt vibrations and started to hear something akin to mumbling from between your legs.

“Huh?”

The vibrations went on, but you still couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Seokmin, I can’t hear you, stop for a second.”

What might have been a groan sounded against your slick folds before Seokmin pulled back to husk out, “Sit on my tongue.”

Your mouth dropped, stunned at the request and the way he stuck out said muscle between his slick-coated lips.

But your hips went on autopilot and moved forward to grant him his wish. As soon as you sat down, the desire to use his tongue as a grinding pad came over. It seemed to be a wise choice as you could feel the strongest vibration so far against your pussy.

Seokmin surprised you again when one of his hands moved from the bed to rest on your waist before sliding over and up your torso. It seemed to be on autopilot as it aimed to touch your covered breast, only stopping short just as his fingertips were about to brush the bottom curve. Clicking your tongue at his unwanted hesitation, you covered his palm with your own and brought it to its intended destination.

“Don’t hold back.”

As soon as you let go, Seokmin took your command and ran to the bank with it. Long fingers groped and massaged at the mound, making your back arch in enjoyment. Enjoyment that pushed you higher and higher to another precipice, faster than before. While you trembled above your friend, you couldn’t believe that he kept this up. You figured that once would be enough to prove your point, but he just would not stop.

He continued even after you came for the second time, giving everything he had. You could feel yourself hurtling towards a third orgasm as Seokmin wouldn’t let you be. But when the tip of his nose felt too pointy and the flat of his tongue too rough for your sensitive folds, you decided to put an end to the experience.

“S-Stop—“

Pointless. He just kept going.

Stifling a whimper of discomfort, you were forced to reach down and pull at his dark brown locks.

“Christ, Seokmin, stop!”

Finally, your prayers were heard. Seokmin winced at your tug and removed his mouth from you to gape incredulously.

“Yah, why’d you stop me?”

You ignored the unusually titillating rasp of his voice to scowl down.

“I think you proved my point…too many times!”

Your emphasis was supported with a flick to his wet nose.

“You trying to kill me?!”

“No! I just got caught up in the moment! I’m sorry.”

The genuine remorse in his explanation made you relax a bit, soothing his scalp with a gentle ruffle of his hair.

“It’s alright, ‘Min. You did good…too good.”

As expected, Seokmin’s smile outshone the sun itself, thanks to your praise.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Returning the grin, you realized that you should give your friend some breathing room and climbed off to lay next to him, a tingle still present in your toes.

“So what have we learned today?”

Seokmin puckered his lips as he looked up in thought.

“I learned that my nose is big, but there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Um…that I can use it when I’m eating someone out.”

Your lips tilted.

“Go on.”

A melodic hum came as he continued to rack his brain.

“Mm…oh! How could I forget the most important one?”

You watched as his head turned to fixate you with a sweet grin.

“If I’m ever feeling insecure about anything, I can come to you for help.”

His answer made you smile wide, heart warming at how at ease he seemed to be now. Granted, you never expected to sit on his face, but if it made him feel better, you’d do it a hundred times over.

“Anything for you, ‘Min.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[4rticbolt]

The Menacing Bra |Master-list|

Fluff, kissy-kissy, crack, cringe and cliche?? Longish-drabble

You and the cook have a moment, and he actually grew a pair to make a move

……………….

Laundry day.

Oh boy, what joy, the repetitive chore that tested your limits. Chipping away your mental capacity and motivation to do absolutely anything.

You’d spent hours on end scrubbing and rinsing the clothes, only to wear again, ferevently repeating the cycle.

You cursed, pinching a clip to your nose. You’d always wished there was some cheat sheet, some easy way out, other than free labor from the boys.

Especially when you’d gotten stuck with Nami and Robin’s clothes too. You’d kindly asked, seeing their closets were getting low, and they’d never decline an offer like that.

Because, honestly, who would? Washing clothes by hand was time consuming, and neither you nor the women had the patience for it.

Sure, you might be throwing yourself under the bus here, but you cannot for the life of you throw fucking soap and bubbles for an hour.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you scrubbed and submerged the materials, hoping you could get done with this before lunch was done.

Which, the odds were in your favor, as you hadn’t procrastinated as much as you normally did. Meaning you’d started early on it, and there was nice weather! Though, that luck didn’t last long as a distant crash emitted from downstairs.

“Spoke too soon,” you muttered, hearing a distant laugh and girlish scream follow after one another. A familiar shout rang after and a chaotic catchy cackle echoed.

You didn’t even want to think what the cook was dealing with now.

However, speaking of the boys if you even had to touch their laundry you’d pass away. That was an actual health hazard, and even thinking about it made your skin crawl.

You shuddered, shaking your head as a shiver ran through your spine, causing some bubbles to fly.

Ew. Just imagining the men’s laundry was a shit show. Maybe not Sanji’s, he actually cared about his hygiene. Regardless, it was still gross

Without even realizing, your thoughts filtered back to the cook who’d still been hollering in the kitchen. Consequently reprimanding the idiots for whatever crime they outdrew.

Though, the thought of his agitated face made you smile.

The way his brows creased into a frown, and the way his jaw would have clenched- sharpening his chin.

You silently cursed as your mind wandered further, leaving the rest of you to the mercy of your imagination.

Ok, sure, maybe you had fallen for the hopeless romantic- but how could you not?!

He’d always showered you in devoted affection—heartfelt compliments, and any craving you could think of. You saw him as the perfect package.

At-least in your eyes.

Maybe a little perverted in the terms of others, but that was just his charm, or so you’d convinced yourself. You’d never had an issue with him, he didn’t really lust after you— or anyone else for that matter.

Not that you knew of, which made it easy to brush off.

Ok, sure- maybe an unhinged comment every now and then, but it could be a lot worse.

Deep down, his selfless acts and perverted thoughts felt more like a puppy love than anything. Appreciation, admiration, and his firm morals… sounded oddly refreshing.

…

Though, speaking of that said appreciation, you were almost done with this stupid laundry- just had to hang your bra. The deck was quieting, meaning lunch was ready. So, as quickly as you could, you stepped onto the railing, reaching the height needed where you could hang the garment.

Ignoring the warm breeze that rushed past, you hopped down to deal with the soapy water, dumping it overboard.

“____! My love! Lunch is done,” Sanji beamed, his voice glowing with excited as he rounded the corner.

“Yeah, just a sec!” You replied, shaking the tub over the railing to rid it of any suds.

Turning back, you weren’t met with the face of the cook, but a wet towel flying towards you, followed by a sharp gust of air.

“Shit-“ Thwack

“Damn wind! You alright?” Sanji’s voice reached you, muffled over the violent winds. The pressure was immeasurable as it howled over the ship, shoving you against its side with blunt force.

You managed to holler back, but the towel had still blocked your vision, making it hard to see. When the wind finally died down, the sopping towel fell dramatically from your shirt, leaving an imprint far beyond its original color.

“Ugh, what the hell? A storm’s gotta be coming through, but Nami didn’t mentioned anything though,” you spoke, looking up to the cook but you froze, seeing the sight in-front of you

No.

Actually die.

He’s dead, you killed the man- or well, the that bra that covered his face did. He was as red as a tomato, frozen in place. You almost laughed at the sight- if you weren’t embarrassed out of your mind.

Your hands slowly came out infront of you, hesitating at what to do with yourself. And the situation.

“Uh, Sanji?”

..

“S-so soft..” he whispered, before you watched him plummet to the floor.

There he goes…

You let out a long sigh, kneeling beside his waist as you watched him pathetically bleed from his nose. He twitched, looking like a cockroach you’d just squashed, possessed by something beyond reason. If not already, he was clearly as down bad for you as you thought.

Tossing aside the bra, your hands hovered above his face for a moment, before you gently patted his cheek, hoping to snap him out of it.

“Hey, helloooo earth to sanji?” You sang, growing more worried as the seconds stretched painfully on.

Sure he had nose bleeds, but never this bad, not to mention he was out like a light.

“Hey!” You’d snapped, unable to wait any longer, as you’d slapped his face a little harder, watching as his eyes fluttered open into hearts.

“Yes, darling,” he stuttered, quickly dabbing a hanker chief to his face. Sanji felt as though he’d been flown through heaven itself, in the cusp of a bra.

“Are you okay?”

“Haha..yes, lovely,” he said dreamily looking up at you as if you were an angel.

You could only grumble at the sight, with the way his eyes shined up at you, melting your heart. You tried to fight it, but your eyes eventually mirrored the same, softly watching him. Without the hearts

In the blink of an eye, Sanji was up, offering you a hand as he sent you charming smile, as he looked down to you.

“Are you sure?” You hummed, taking his hand.

“You’re offly pink.”

“Only for you my Angel.” He spoke with zero hesitation, loving the way your eyes rolled and your face flushed. Feeling a bit warm, you decided to step back, and he suddenly pulled you closer.

He could tell you were nervous, and once again loved it. He loved everything about you- how your heart raced, how your breath quickened- and he could go for hours naming every reason. Then, bringing his hand to your waist, he drew you even closer, leaning into you.

“____? Is it too much?”

Absolutely.

No. Not even in the slightest.

You repeated to yourself, but no words came out of your mouth, not even a response, as you were far too stunned. Unable to control the thumping in your chest, you watched as a soft smirk tugged at his lips.

“Haha… I’m joking, easy,” he mused, reaching a hand to very gently push the hair out of your eyes.

For a moment, he locked your gaze.

If felt as if he’d been holding your heart, squeezing it softly as he leaned in.

Sanji shamelessly moved his hand from your waist to the nape of your neck, pulling you in, and you could feel the heat rise between you as he watched your lips like honey to a bee.

The cook thought you looked far too sweet not to be held, not to be touched—and he couldn’t even comprehend how’d you taste. He was far too eager to wait.

His lips longingly met yours, and you matched his intensity, sliding your hands from his chest to his neck, pulling your waist against his.

Sanji groaned, his legs almost buckling at the touch, and he needily slipped his tongue to meet yours. The kiss was feverish, a first-time rush, but deep.

A door behind you suddenly opened and a hangry, impatient captain ruined your moment.

“Sanji! Can we eat now?!” A gummy Captain huffed, far outstretching the scene. “Hey what are you-“

You and Sanji frantically pulled away, letting out a stifled cough you walked past the boy.

“We’re done! He just came to tell me lunch was done! All is well, all is just fine!” You cheeped, fleeing the scene, as you were bright red once again. Awkwardly leaving a very hungry Luffy, and a now seething Sanji behind.

“Huh? What’s her deal-.”

“Did you have to ruin that?!” He snapped, grabbing and shaking the gummy dolt. He didn’t even bother to hide the blush on his face.

“You idiot! Could you not see I was having a moment! I’ve waited forever for this- and you just had to plow through and ruin it!”

“Wh-at moment! And what d-o you me-an ruin it! I just sa-id I was hun-gry!” his rubber head flopped back n’ forth, as he tried- but ultimately failed avoiding the cook’s wrath.

Yeah, sure, Luffy might’ve been hungry, but so was he. Practically starving.

………………………………

[just-jordie-things]

Could you do a drabble with the JJK boys getting jealous??

i sure can :) ___

GOJO SATORU

satoru claims over and over that he doesn't get jealous. look at him. he knows that there's no one in the world you'd rather be with than him. besides, jealousy is childish, right? you've been together for ages! he's secure in your relationship, and so are you.

but then he sees you showing a new transfer-teacher from the Kyoto school around, and the guy just gets a little too close to you. he's laughing a little too much at your jokes, and his stare lingers on you for a little too long.

he's not upset at the idea of another man taking you away, because never in a million years could that happen. but he doesn't like the idea of another man trying to woo you. he doesn't like seeing another man look at you the way he looks at you. because you're his.

and satoru figures there's no harm in introducing himself, right? it would be polite.

as soon as he approaches you, you feel something bad is coming. he's pulling his blindfold down around his neck, and the grin on his face looks plastic. he looks like he's about to approach the elders.

oh, you realize. he's fuming.

satoru introduces himself with a grand gesture and loud voice, and despite you telling him that everyone knows who he is, he reaches out and aggressively grabs the stranger's hand, shaking it with too much force, and too much eye contact.

"i'm actually her fiancé! did you know that?" he's keeping up his bright smile, but the look in his eyes is absolutely unhinged, much like his actions. "that means she's going to be my wife, isn't that right honey?"

you know you're not going to convince him to relax, so instead you affectionately roll your eyes, and let your new colleague know the tour was over and he could head to his office for the day. you smack satoru's arm to make him let go of his hand, first.

the man gives you a polite nod and a thank you, but barely looks at satoru as he turns around and heads off.

you glare up at the ridiculous man, placing your hands on your hips to really solidify your annoyance with him.

"what?" satoru asks, even daring to act confused. "I was just saying hello! is it a crime to say hello these days?"

"i thought you didn't get jealous?" you raise a brow at him.

"i told you, i was just saying hello" satoru shrugs his shoulders.

you hum in disbelief, and roll your eyes again.

"you're ridiculous" you huff.

"you love me" he replies with a wide grin, and this time a genuine one.

"remind me why, again?"

"because i'm perfect," he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him, and despite your indifferent act, the blush on your cheeks betrays you. "and handsome. and funny. and smart. and handsome"

and wildly jealous, you think, but you keep it to yourself. you kinda thought it was cute, after all. ___

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

megumi knows he shouldn't be jealous. it's immature, insecure, and stupid. at least he tells himself this like it's a mantra while he watches how easily you and the cashier at the cafe you were currently at were talking to each other.

he was sat at your usual table, and thought you were just going to the counter to pick up your drinks, but without another customer to tend to, the cashier had struck up a conversation with you.

and megumi is conflicted. because he's not the type to get up from his seat and drag you back here... right? he was above proving the point that you had a boyfriend... right?

soon enough you're bringing your drinks back to the table and sitting across from him with an award winning smile. it's silent as you both sip your drinks, and despite megumi normally being reserved, you can tell pretty quick that something's up.

"you alright?" you ask.

he doesn't want to tell you the truth, but he's not a good liar either.

"fine," he mumbles back, staring at his drink. "that guy was real friendly, huh?"

you bite on your cheek to hold back from giggling, but your smile is still visible. you didn't think megumi was capable of jealousy. maybe it was immature of you, but it did warm your heart to know he cared about you enough to feel such a way.

when he dares a glance up at you and sees you smiling, he lifts his head.

"what?" he mumbles.

you shrug your shoulders and shake your head, before standing from your seat so you could lean over the table and plant your lips on his.

megumi didn't usually partake in pda, he didn't initiate it beyond holding your hand. but he'd never really experienced it before, and kissing you now in front of the few patrons of the cafe and that sweet-talking cashier, felt amazing.

when you pulled away, your face split into a grin. megumi kept his smile small, but the pink on his face was unavoidable. ___

OKKOTSU YUUTA

it's been done before but... yuuta is insanely jealous of yuuji.

but when he's gone for months, and comes back to find that his girlfriend has become buddy buddy with sukuna's vessel, it's hard not to be.

of course when he finally comes home, you leap into his arms and you pepper him with kisses, and when you tell him how much you missed him he knows it's the truth, he knows that he's the only one for you.

and he doesn't really know yuuji, they've barely been acquainted, but he knows he can't trust him. of course he can't! you're the most beautiful girl in the world, anyone could see that, but with yuuji becoming your best friend, he simply couldn't take that.

does he do the mature thing and voice this concern, this little insecurity to you? well... no. he lets it sit and fester until the jealousy becomes so overwhelming, he's giving yuuji death glares every time he sees him.

like right now.

the first and second years were throwing a little party in the common room- which really just meant playing switch games while drinking and staying up far too late- and when yuuta showed up, you were already there.

and so was yuuji.

you both had a plastic red cup in your hands, and you were laughing loud enough he could hear it over the music. instantly his muscles tense and he's grinding his teeth. seriously? even tonight? which was supposed to be fun and laidback? now he has to deal with this again?

he tries to relax his features when he approaches you, sliding his arm around your waist and keeping a firm grip on your hip, he tries to come across as calm when he greets you both.

but yuuji isn't stupid. he's noticed the dirty looks, the sudden possessiveness that overtakes him whenever he finds the two of you together. he knows exactly what's going on.

and you're not stupid either but... you brush youth's clinginess off as just that- clinginess. he'd been gone on that assignment for so long, you figured he had just been missing you as much as you missed him. sweet, loving you had just been enjoying the welcome home sex!

even now, with yuuta keeping you so snug against his side that you couldn't pull away if you wanted to, you were smiling and just enjoying the presence of both your boyfriend and your new friend.

but yuuji was starting to feel twitchy, and nervous. yuuta could be the friendliest guy in the room, all smiles and warmth, but right now, he was staring daggers at yuuji. and the poor boy had no idea what to say or do to handle it.

so at first chance, he excused himself, and raced off to spend the rest of the night glued to megumi, where he presumed he was safe.

now that yuuta had you alone, he turned to face you, pulling you by your hips to keep you close to him.

you smile up at him, eyes gleaming with adoration, and some of his annoyance starts to melt away. some.

and for the first time, you notice the little knot between his brows. you tilt your head at him.

"what is it?" you hum softly, your hands resting against his chest.

"nothing, sweetheart, don't worry about it" he says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

as convincing as his kiss was, you knew better.

"you sure, honey?" you murmur, your hands running over his shoulders, "you seem tense"

you're so sweet, he thinks as his fingers slip under the hem of your top and begin to trace over your warm skin. you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling, and quickly swat at his chest to make him stop. he just smirks and continues the motion.

"come with me," he murmurs, sliding a hand out from your shirt only to take your hand and tug you with him around a corner, out of sight from everyone else.

you oblige without question, and happily drape your arms around his neck when he presses you into the wall. he wastes no time in filling the gap between you, sealing your lips with his.

you hum delightedly when the kiss deepens, your fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck while he heatedly kisses along your jaw until he reached the sweet spot just below your ear. your fingers tighten just a little, enough to give his hair a little tug.

"you have a good time at the party, sweetheart?" he murmured into your ear. "with yuuji?"

you giggled, which was not the reaction he was expecting, so he tilted his head back to look at you.

"oh, yuuta," you sigh, smiling up at him. "don't tell me this is jealousy?"

"what? no," he smirks, stealing another kiss from you that took your breath away more than it should have. "that would be childish"

"maybe," you murmur, your hands sliding across his shoulders, and then down his chest. "but it's maybe kinda cute" you add in a softer voice.

"cute?" yuuta repeats back to you.

you nod with another giggle.

"maybe," you say. "but you know it's silly, right?"

you bring one of your hands up to his face, gently cupping his jaw to make sure he was staring at you, to make sure he could see the authenticity in your features.

"you're the only one for me," you say sweetly, and seal your words with a kiss. "so, can we go back to this party?"

"nope," yuuta grins, and then he's taking your hand and guiding you away again. "everyone's busy having a good time. let's go to my room"

and you oblige, without question.

(yuuta remains pretty jealous, but at least you're reaping the benefits)

___

INUMAKI TOGE

toge was a fairly jealous person, and this was well known. ever since you'd joined the second years, all of your peers had known he was jealous of anyone that spent time with you. you might not have been his girlfriend, but from the dirty looks he gave anyone that tried to steal you as a partner, or study buddy, you may have well been.

you were pretty oblivious to this, as when he was with you, toge was nothing but kindness and laughter.

but maki's stopped sparring with you, panda won't be your partner in mariokart, and when yuuta is around, he's just been straight up avoiding you because they're all so nervous that toge's gonna chew their ass out with onigiri. which sounds funny, but being on the receiving end of an angry toge was the worst.

you joined them late one evening in the common room, having been catching up on some work with gojo. when you see they've got the switch hooked up and are setting up teams for mariokart, you're quick to voice that you're joining.

"maki, do you have a partner yet-?"

"yep! i'm partners with panda!" she answers faster than you could even finish your question.

you look to panda, who was sitting on the opposite side of the room, and he's quick to nod his head. although he doesn't look convinced, as though he'd just learned this himself.

"salmon!" toge calls out, patting the space next to him on the couch for you to join. your confusion wears away as you fall into the cushion next to him and take the extra controller he hands you.

maki and panda share a look and roll their eyes to themselves.

the rest of the night goes as usual, the four of you racing until a victor is determined. it's a close game but as usual, maki wins. she goes back to her dorm chanting.

"well, i'm still wide awake," you say to the remaining two. "you guys want to go to the convenience store, get some snacks, and keep playing?"

"yeah, I'll go!" panda says excitedly.

"salmon!" toge agrees just as quickly, as though competing to be the first.

you just laugh as you head off to grab your purse and shoes. when you meet up with panda and toge outside the school, you jump onto panda's back and dare the two of them to race to the front gates.

toge takes this as a very serious challenge, and when he and panda cross through the gate at nearly the same time, you cheer at the both of them for being so fast.

"you guys took that serious! wow!" you laugh as you hop off of panda's back and stare at your panting friends in awe.

it was quite the run, and you hadn't expected the both of them to start sprinting.

"i think panda won by half a second though"

"bonito flakes!"

"sorry!" you're still laughing as you raise your hands in mock surrender, thinking toge was just joking.

he wasn't. he pouts for the rest of the walk.

panda waits outside the small shop while you and toge go in to collect all your favorite snacks. he sticks close to your side, maybe even closer than usual, but you don't say anything. you just hope your blush isn't too noticeable.

you pay for the two bags of snacks and head out of the shop, meeting up with panda for the walk back to jujutsu tech. toge carries the bags for you, wedging himself between you and panda so he could soak up as much of your attention that he could get.

panda barely talks the rest of the way, listening to you ramble on while toge happily reacts to whatever you were saying. honestly, panda wonders why he even came- besides for those yummy honey crackers- because toge was just going to steal all of your attention like he usually does.

by the time you get back to the school, panda claims he's too tired to keep playing mariokart, and says you should all watch a movie while eating your snacks instead. you seem excited enough by this idea that toge also agrees.

while panda sits on the floor and begins scrolling through the streaming services to find something good, toge tugs on your sleeve so you'll sit with him on the couch.

and when you sit with him, he tugs on your sleeve once more. you glance over, thinking he's trying to get your attention, but again, he tugs. a blush blooms over your nose and across your cheeks as you realize he's trying to pull you closer still. shyly, you tuck in closer, until your side is pressed against him. he smiles as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"salmon" he says happily.

you can't find your voice to say anything, too bashful from the out of character cuddle he'd just requested. but you wouldn't complain.

panda puts on some true crime doc none of you had heard of, and the three of you watch and munch on your treats in silence. although it's not long before panda's passing out on the floor, and you're also getting droopy eyed.

you slump a little more into toge's side, wiggling until you're comfortable, and then rest your head against his shoulder.

in a panic, his head whips around to look at you, as if he wasn't sure if you were actually cuddling into him more.

"have you been getting jealous, toge?" you hum, your heavy eyes finally falling shut. he doesn't say anything, but his silence speaks volumes. "i thought maybe," you giggle softly. "i've been wondering why yuuta avoids me like the plague and maki won't be my mariokart partner anymore"

"mustard leaf?" toge mumbles, and he wonders if it's enough for you to know what he's asking.

"I'm not upset," you hum in answer, and he relaxes a little. "but you don't have to be jealous. i don't want to be with anyone else. they're my friends," you peek your eyes open and tilt your head back just enough to meet his gaze.

his lavender eyes are blown wide in surprise, and the look makes you smile. finally, you're the one catching him off guard.

"you're different" you finish quietly.

he smiles back at you, and when you lay your head back down against his shoulder, his hand reaches up to pet your hair gently until you fall asleep there.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[rapturously]

asking for some ethan landry smut ,,, I don’t care what you write but I need it! 🧎‍♀️

when the party’s over.

➾ pairing ; ethan landry x fem!reader.

in which you meet a cute boy at a college party and decide to have a little bit of fun behind closed doors.

FORMAT: drabble — requested.

WORD COUNT: 4K.

WARNINGS: SMUT! (mdni), alcohol/drinking, typical college party antics, hooking up, semi-public sex, risk of getting caught, virgin!ethan, making out, hair-pulling, groping, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), extreme horny antics, handjob (m!receiving), fingering, cumming together ;)), ethan has some dark/weird thoughts, cumplay, begging, dirty talk, ambiguous ending

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m suffering from chronic ethan landry brainrot :’) he’s so cute but unhinged/deranged and I love that !!! I love my men sexy and out for blood !! I am absolutely planning on writing a part two and/or more of him, this was so fun & horny (my favorite). I hope you all enjoy! ❤️

A homemade concoction of various alcohol stung your nose as you strolled past the kitchen, surrounded by a swarm of neon lights — vibrant shades of violet, green, and hot pink. The music blared all around you, bass booming hard enough to make your bones rattle.

Blackmore University was infamous for its chaotic parties and mixers that involved too much to drink and too many people — tonight was no exception. Halloween was right around the corner, and the party was lively with plenty of buzzed college students dressed in costumes.

The rest of your entourage had decided to be the fairies from Pixie Hollow. You hadn’t decided on a particular fairy, but you’d gotten a cute dress and trinkets to look the part. Your wings — cheap gossamer stretched over wire frames — were serviceable at best.

You came along with a group of your friends, but they scattered as soon as they walked through the door. You were left to your own devices, sipping on a hard lemonade with a sour expression. The alcohol tasted decent enough, but you were wary of getting intoxicated in unfamiliar locations.

Some radio-popular hip-hop song provided a steady ambiance as you traipsed through another hallway, narrowly avoiding a collision with a sashaying junior.

The thick, heady scent of marijuana drifted throughout the frat house, accompanied by clouds of hazy smoke. As you passed by the staircase, there was a boy slumped to one side, puffing on a bong that seemed comically large. Typical college party antics, you assumed.

As you rounded the doorway, you slammed right into a boy who seemed just as startled as you were. The drink in your hand smashed into the cardboard chest piece he was wearing, exploding onto your silvery evening dress.

“S—Shit! I’m so sorry,” He stammered, fumbling over his words as he clamored to grab a towel or a rag — anything, really. He hastily decided on a throw blanket draped over the back of a leather couch, tossing it over the puddle of spilled alcohol. “I didn’t see you.”

Before you decided to admonish him for his carelessness, you realized that it wasn’t his fault — more of a joint mistake, really. “No, it’s fine! I should’ve been looking.” You replied, crouching down to help him clean up the mess.

The front of your pretty dress was now coated in a layer of sticky booze, clinging to your chest with an uncomfortable dampness. Unfortunately, you’d left your jacket back at your dormitory, riddled with a stain that would likely stay for the duration of the party.

When you finally got a look at your obstacle, you were delighted to find that he was cute — arguably the most attractive boy in the room. “I’m really sorry about your dress. I ruined your costume.” He frowned, brows furrowing together.

You realized that he was dressed as a Knight, armor meticulously crafted of intricate cardboard cutouts and patterns. “I think we ruined each other’s costumes.” You mused, gesturing toward the splotch of alcohol all over the front of his chest.

“This is going to the dumpster once the party ends, anyway.” He confessed, letting out a soft chuckle. Admittedly, it made you laugh, nose crinkling in amusement as you cleared your throat.

“Really? I think it looks great! You put a lot of effort into it.” That was true — it was a neat costume. You found it amusing that the knight and the fairy had run into one another, as if it were ripped from the pages of some gaudy romance novel.

“Thanks,” The boy chewed at the inside of his cheek, reaching to rub at the back of his neck. “You’re supposed to be a fairy, right? I noticed the wings, and the … Dress. Before I collided with you.” He was in awe of you, truly — you were absolutely gorgeous.

Part of him thought about staking out your dorm for later, but now wasn’t the time.

A familiar wave of heat washed over you, creeping into your features as you playfully spun around. Your glittering dress and cosmetics glistened in the lower light. “The rest of my friends came as the Pixie Hollow fairies. I couldn’t really decide on one, so I made my own.”

“Yeah, well you — You look really pretty.” He swallowed the growing lump within his throat, attempting to kick away that twinge of social anxiety. It was something he struggled with — he wasn’t nearly as outgoing or charismatic as his older brother.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you.” Bristling from his innocuous compliment, you stepped closer, attempting to close some of the distance between the both of you. “What’s your name? I didn’t catch it.” You piped up, leaning against the doorframe.

Unable to keep from smiling, he stayed static, watching as you bridged the gap. “I’m Ethan, Ethan Landry. It’s nice to meet you.” His chest shook with a brief chuckle when you stuck out your hand for an exaggerated handshake.

“Ethan Landry,” You beamed, shaking his hand with excitable energy. After you gave him your name, the conversation only seemed to blossom from there. “It’s nice to meet you, too! What are you studying here at Blakemore?”

Ethan never had the best luck with women, especially ones as pretty as you. Not only that, but you had a whirlwind of charm to you, too. “Uh … I’m still deciding. Leaning toward film, though! What about you?” He asked, unable to keep his eyes off of you.

“I’m also in the process of deciding. I’m trying to get my basic courses out of the way before I commit to something.” You chimed, sidestepping away from the swarm of rancorous students that began to pile into the living room.

With a constant grin, you peered toward the growing crowd of students dancing in the middle of the room. A fast-paced hip-hop song began to thrum over the speakers, filling the frat house with music.

“Do you want to dance?” You asked, motioning toward the gathering in the center of the room. This was the one college party where you’d met a cute boy who seemed to take an interest — you weren’t about to squander it.

He seemed visibly hesitant, making a face that screamed ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea’. Ethan relented, deciding that taking a risk and spending more time with you would be worthwhile. “Just one. It’s getting pretty crazy in here.” He wasn’t much of a dancer, either.

“Just one!” You reaffirmed, snatching ahold of his hand as the two of you joined the mosh pit of students. Somewhere through the chaos, you ended up right against him, chest to chest, swaying and bouncing to the music. It was loud, so loud that it shook the very foundations of the building.

Ethan didn’t want to make a fool out of himself. He simply mimicked some of your movements, entranced by the way you involuntarily pressed against him, a smile on your face, drifting off to the music. You grabbed one of his hands, prompting him to twirl you around.

“So what are you doing at this party? Did you come with friends?” You asked, practically yelling at Ethan as the two of you continued to dance. It was a little awkward, but he seemed engrossed, stooping down to give you an answer.

“Yeah! I came with some friends, and my roommate. They’re around here somewhere.” Ethan replied, grabbing you and pushing you aside to avoid being smacked by flying arms and stray bodies.

As Ethan briefly looked through the crowd, he noticed Chad somewhere on the other side, cheering him on with a toothy grin. It gave him a bit of a confidence boost, no matter how small it seemed to be. You were so beautiful, jubilant and vibrant, moving with the music.

The way he looked at you was mesmerizing, the stare of a charmed, smitten boy. You were the center of gravity, the sun — bright and shining just for him. Admittedly, you weren’t oblivious, and if it weren’t for the sea of people, you might’ve been emboldened enough to kiss him.

The music began to dissipate, song trailing off into the next track. “Do you want to go somewhere else to talk?” Ethan asked, surprising you by being the first to make a move. You wondered if he really meant talking, but either way, you were happy.

“Yeah.” You nodded, reaching for his hand as he escorted you out of the dance room and toward the staircase. The two of you carefully avoided any stragglers slumped on the stairs, slipping past a gaggle of girls stumbling down from the bathroom.

Once you were upstairs, things became more hushed altogether. Even just standing on the balcony provided some relief as he ran a hand through his mop of curly hair, glancing down at you with a smile. “Is this better?” He asked, leaning against the bannister,

An amused chuckle escaped you as you nodded, tilting back against the wooden post at the top of the staircase. “Much better,” You mused, absentmindedly biting at your lower lip. “You know, if you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask.”

Ethan’s countenance flushed from ivory to scarlet within the blink of an eye, throat becoming dry as he attempted to come up with some viable excuse. “It’s not that, I just — Shit. This isn’t what it looks like.” He groaned, feeling your hand slip around his.

“Ethan,” You murmured, canting your head to one side. “You need to stop psyching yourself out.” Another giggle left you, enough to reassure him, put his nerves to rest as you coaxed him closer. You tugged on his hand, leading him toward a room somewhere in the back hallway.

Wordlessly, you slipped inside, realizing that this was likely someone else’s room — one that was clearly unoccupied. It was all nondescript and outfitted with the bare essentials of a dorm, lights dimmed as you shut the door behind the both of you.

Your back gently pressed against the uncomfortable wood of the door as you latched it, ensuring that no one would be barging in anytime soon. Ethan appeared both excited and bewildered, chomping at the bit to finally touch a girl. He’d been lonely for so long — and now, fantasy was becoming reality.

“Are you sure? I — What if somebody hears us or comes knocking?” Ethan asked. In all actuality, he didn’t care whatsoever. He was aching, desperate to feel you and be inside of you, if you let him. The idea of losing his virginity to a beautiful girl at a party was enticing.

Neglecting to offer an answer to his constant string of worrying, you decided to change course. “Kiss me.” You whispered, feeling a pang of molten heat hit your stomach when Ethan practically pounced on you, lips messy and inexperienced as he kissed you.

The stiff cardboard of his helmet bumped into your face, causing you to giggle. Ethan became crimson-faced, swiftly tossing it behind him onto the gray carpet. Without hesitation, he grabbed your face, kissing you again with a low groan.

Music blared from downstairs, bass able to eclipse all of the noise emerging from the guest room. Your hands moved toward his shoulders, lips tangling with his as he readjusted his grip. Ethan’s palms sank into your soft curves, clutching at your hips above the dress.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Ethan mumbled, peering at you through his lashes. “I want to learn, though.” He wasn’t clueless — he’d watched things online before and indulged in the company of his right hand on multiple occasions.

Gentle laughter escaped you, accompanied by a twinge of understanding. “I don’t know if I wanna go all the way in the guest room of a frat house,” You mused, fingers shifting to rake through his hair. “It’s okay, Ethan. I’m not worried about it.”

Ethan relaxed, visibly reassured by your words before you tapped a nail against the cardboard cutout framing his chest. He got the hint, happy to be rid of the ridiculous costume. He didn’t care very much for it — you, on the other hand, looked ethereal.

Instead of you steering him around, he took ahold of your hands, coaxing you toward the unmade mattress. He had a vivid idea of what he wanted to do to you. Ethan watched with wide, desirous eyes as you sat down, flesh crawling with heat when he stood between your legs.

To your complete delight, Ethan sank down onto his knees, all six feet and two inches of him, hands gently caressing your legs. “You’ll tell me if I’m not doing something right, yeah?” He prompted, sucking in a sharp breath when you kissed him.

He was tall, and you didn’t have to stoop very much at all to reach him, feeling his fingertips tease the hem of your dress. Your fingers scraped against the nape of his neck, pushing themselves throughout his mop of curly hair. The soft groan that escaped him made your heart flutter.

“I’ll tell you.” You murmured, watching as he sheepishly tilted inward for another kiss. Ethan’s hands began to creep underneath your dress at a snail’s pace, exploring every inch of you. You felt velveteen beneath his fingertips, like a fine silk.

“Can I take your dress off?” Ethan murmured, peering at you through thick eyelashes. His breath hitched within his throat as you reached toward your back, unzipping the shimmering garment.

You neglected to shimmy out of the snug fabric, letting it pool around your chest, instead. “All yours.” Your hand dipped toward the silvery straps around your ankles as you stepped out of your heels.

Ethan swallowed the lump of excitement that coalesced within the back of his throat, hands curling into the hem of your dress. Sluggishly, he began to coax the fabric down, mesmerized by the way you lifted your hips, wordlessly assisting him.

The thin straps of your lace brassiere clung to your chest, accompanied by a matching pair of panties. Ethan’s sigh was shaky, quivering with a tremor of delight as he grabbed your thighs, body pushing them apart.

“You’re so beautiful.” A low, throaty groan escaped him, lips agape as he pressed a kiss against your thigh. Even your smell was intoxicating, swarming his senses like a heady tidal wave. He didn’t know where to start, but he had an idea of what he wanted.

Swallowing his bout of nervousness, Ethan continued to kiss along your leg, feeling your fingers curl into his hair. The little tugs and motions you made only served to make his heart beat faster, goosebumps coalescing along his spine. His hands curled into the waistband of your panties, inching them down your legs.

You squirmed, chest fluttering with warmth as he looked to you for consent, skin flush with scarlet. “Please, Ethan.” Your hips jolted forward, aching for his mouth, fingers — anything that he was willing to give you. “Please keep going.”

Ethan loved that — he loved hearing you beg.

He wondered what it’d be like to make you cry, perhaps toy with you, knife in-hand, make you writhe. Some sinister part of him wanted to hear you say it again, and without thinking, his mouth moved before he could comprehend anything else.

“Say it again,” Ethan urged, chest rising and falling with soft pants as he clutched at your legs. The doe-eyed expression on your countenance only added fuel to the now-raging fire, and he watched with silent glee as you let out a soft whine. “Please.”

“Ethan, please,” Without hesitation, you pleaded with him, desperate for friction — for any shred of it. Your voice rose an octave, bleeding heat from between your legs. “Please, please,” You moaned, watching the way his pupils expanded with lust. “I want you — want your mouth.”

Despite his inexperience, Ethan was prepared to follow basic instinct, palms smoothing themselves along your thighs until he held your hips. His head dipped between your thighs, tongue sluggishly swiping along your cunt, familiarizing himself with your taste.

Your back arched, stomach swirling with an excitable heat as he took his time. There was something exploratory in-nature, a desire to savor you. His cock strained against the front of his jeans when your nails gently raked themselves over his dark curls.

He shuddered with delight, ministrations lacking any haste. Ethan went slow, almost painfully so, tongue dutifully lapping at your cunt as he kneaded into your hips. The sounds that escaped you were divine — intoxicating, really.

The bass of the music thundered underneath the both of you, and any footsteps that reverberated close by were met with indifference. He was buried between your legs, lips caressing your core as he traced along your slit. Your hips jolted forward, desperate for any scrap of friction he provided.

“Ethan,” You moaned, pleasantly surprised by how eager he was. A surge of molten heat coalesced within the pit of your stomach, churning with excitement and desire. You gingerly tugged at his curls, feeling his tongue sweep over your clit. “A—Ah! Right there!”

He paused, mouth clamoring to find that sweet spot of yours, feeling you steer him in the right direction. He lapped at your clit, cock throbbing with an urgency when you whimpered. Ethan hunched forward, gently placing one of your legs on his shoulder.

Ethan felt a newfound rush of confidence, skin hot and visage flushed as he ate you out, increasing his pace and intensity. It became somewhat sloppy, a mess of tongue and desperation, aroused by the noises that escaped you and the constant pressure of your hand in his hair.

What he wouldn’t give to watch you by yourself — a picture for later, or touching you while you slept. The thought of you beneath him, begging for more, tears in your eyes — he groaned, cock straining against the front of his jeans.

His heart hammered erratically, mirroring your own galloping heartbeat as he kissed your clit, tongue messily lapping wherever he could. You squirmed again whenever he touched that sensitive clutch of nerves, slumping backwards onto the mattress.

“Fuck, you’re addicting,” Ethan groaned, and that was enough to get you to whimper. You’d never been called that before, and the way he half-whined the words himself made your hips buck forward. “So pretty.” He whispered, nearly in disbelief as he lapped at your clit.

Your stomach sloshed with molten heat, lips agape as another moan tore past your mouth. He was working wonders, nails digging into your haunch, causing goosebumps to prickle along your thighs. “I want you to use your hand.” You sighed.

Ethan knew that he wouldn’t last long himself watching you, and when you sat up, he was scarlet-faced and visibly pained. “I—I’m sorry.” It was as if his confidence had shattered completely. He was a little embarrassed about how hard he’d gotten from this, but you seemed understanding.

“Come here,” You gestured toward the empty spot next to you, and Ethan quickly sat down. Without hesitation, your hands flew to his belt, unzipping his jeans as you reached into his boxers. “Together.”

His breath hitched within his throat as he ushered you into his lap, hovering above one of his thighs. Ethan kissed you, swallowing your needy moan in the process — you could taste yourself, the lewdness of it all. He didn’t need any guidance as he slid two fingers against your slick cunt.

It was instantaneous — the both of you were catching fire, succumbing to basic instinct and desire. You began to steadily stroke along his cock, thumb caressing the tip of his erection, oozing with precum. Ethan gasped, hips stuttering as he bucked into your palm.

Your body rolled into his hand, digits sluggishly seeking your entrance. You guided him there, noticing the way his gaze had flickered from your face to your body. You whimpered when he sank his fingers into your tight heat, pistoning in and out.

A string of saliva connected your swollen lips to his, but Ethan didn’t stop kissing you. They turned from gentle and exploratory to rough and wanton, tongue briefly tangling with yours.

Between the dimly-lit, sienna glow of the room and the thrum of the bass downstairs, you were lost in his touch, floating away into the blissful taste of his mouth. He was all around you and in your blood, like the surging of the music.

You didn’t stop whatsoever, palm slick with his precum as you pumped along the length of his cock, mesmerized by that glazed, lovestruck look in his eyes. You were wonderfully naive, oblivious to the hungering darkness and obsession that rested within Ethan’s pretty stare.

“I want you.” Ethan’s voice reverberated in between strings of heated kisses, sending a wave of heat all throughout your body. There was a stark juxtaposition between the meek, inexperienced boy and the darker, deeper tone he had just now.

You felt his desire seep into your very bones, rocking atop his thigh as his digits continued to piston in and out. Ethan was content to finger-fuck you into your orgasm, thumb seeking to toy with your clit. It caused you to gasp and shiver with delight, feeling his teeth momentarily catch your lower lip.

A soft, simpering whine left you, one hand digging into the nape of his neck as the other stroked along his cock. The intensity only continued to mount, rising like the swell of a tide. Ethan’s hips began to stutter as he let out a groan of his own, cumming into your palm.

It was messy, hot and sticky in glistening tendrils across your thigh, and you were right behind him. As you sank forward, he curled his fingers just slightly, sending you into the white-hot explosion of your release. There was a newfound spot on his jeans from where you’d been moments prior.

“Shit,” He huffed, somewhat abashed about making such a mess. His curls were disheveled, flesh shimmering with perspiration, face noticeably flushed. “Ah … Sorry.” Admittedly, Ethan loved the sight of you like this, stained with his seed, but he didn’t want to scare you off.

As you recuperated, you reached for your dress, unable to bite back the smitten smile on your features. “It’s okay,” You giggled. “I thought it was hot.” You confessed, using the spare t-shirt in your purse to clean yourself up. Something to throw in the washer, later.

Ethan blushed, clamoring to zip his jeans up as you shimmied back into your panties and dress. He noticed you struggling with the zipper towards the small of your back. “You need some help?” He asked, voice unusually soft as he stepped closer.

“Thank you,” The gesture was sweet, something that you didn’t expect. Regardless, you let him zip you back up, noticing the way he’d simply lingered close by as you buckled your heels around your ankles. “I should get going. I’m sure my friends are wondering where I am.”

“Wait,” Ethan’s hands involuntarily flew toward your hips, gently pulling you close. “I want to see you again.” Even if he had duplicitous methods of getting your phone number, he wanted this to be organic.

“Okay,” Despite having a hookup in the empty room of a frat house, you did want to see him again, too. He was painfully sweet — and that was hard to come by. “I want to see you again, too. Here.”

You wrote your number down on the cardboard chest-plate of his knight costume. He said he left his phone back at the dormitory — and you came prepared with the half-dried ink pen wasting away in the bottom of your purse.

By the time you and Ethan made it back out to the party, he was being hauled away by his friends, and you had found your group again.

If he had it his way, the next time you’d see him, you’d be at the end of his knife.

[muniimyg]

OKAYYYYY MY THOUGHTS (I have so many of them)

first of all - this fic is a mf masterpiece

the tension, them being mean to each other and jk being a simp UGH!😩😩😩😩 I want him so bad

the scene where he asks her to feed him and I’m like this man is NAWT shying away and so he is THAT kinda boyfriend like.

and him not going to that function because “his girl” is sick. like I was shy reading this as if he was speaking about me🤣🤣🤣 and the dolphins book he finds - oc was such a cutie for that🥰

and then the scene where they Yk do THAT when he is wearing his glasses I FOLDED. I FOLDED SO BAD CAUSE HE IS SO HOT AND THWIR BED CHEM WAS BED CHEM-ING.

and then the jealousy era like girl why would you push his button like that but also valid cause walk him like a dog sis 😁

And then their talk and finally a man who has communication skills 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 cause real men just cannot🤓 at least the ones I have dealt which. Just like oc only had situationships😁 waiting for my jk now.

and then they started dating and everything is amazing in the world again😪💕

in all - a mf masterpiece like I said ❤️

you have done it once again.

Just a future drabble if you decide to do it - the gangs reaction when they found they are together 🤨🤨 jus a small little idea hehe

Also big props to you for writing this in a fic cause I can imagine how stressful that might have been plus you being sick. hope you are feeling better ❤️

also my take on ranking the kimi verse jk’s - ITS VERY HARD

fuck - bed chem jk (Obviously) but also like c2u jk cause laundry scene was insane 😭

kiss - aao jk or baby daddy jk

marry - baby daddy jk no questions asked

WE DONT KILL c2u jk in DIS HOUSE CAUSE HE IS SUCH A CUTIE 😭😭💕

ok lemme yap with u 🤝

tension/dynamic

i've been absolutely CRAVING to write a tension filled fic where they both want each other but don't know how to have each other. oh my god,,, did this concept absolutely scratch my brain.

i personally had to think for a hot minute abt their banter cos,,, yes, banter is 60% of their chem,,, but the stillness??? between them??? the way they react to each comeback??? how they look at each other or stand or sit too close??? how thick the air feels and how easy it would be to just have them kiss??? oh !!!! i really had to sit in their moment and intensify their feelings

the tension between them was slow with a sense of pressure... ugh. i really wanted to emphasize that their situation was easy. no one was stopping them from being together... but instead,, it was the pure fun of it that complicated things for each other. their dynamic is established since part 1. it's too easy to show the sudden change and honestly? unrealistic.

real tension,, real friends to lovers,,, is slow. awkward. it's this weird sense of uncertainty but also knowing and believing in them.

further, subtle things were so purposeful in each chapter imo. when i write fics,, i take a moment to think abut what each character has to offer the other/their specific traits. (my uni/college au's for example) deeper than what major i give them,, i think about their attitude and how it ties to to their little things.

for bed chem,, jk as a chem major was like a lightbulb moment for me because 1) it fit the title 2) it made it easier for me to write him as a grumpy nerd 3) it practically paints the picture of what kind of guy he is by all by itself... like, all i really needed to do was be specific with word choice and body language. being a part of the marine conservation club was like a hehe haha thing but also showcased his softer side (caring for the world and wanting to make change,,, etc).

meanwhile, oc majors in psych and she's kind of reckless. she's constantly tripping over her own feet and is unhinged for most for their banter... but she's intentful. she's good at talking around her feelings and her actions,, but she's even better at sticking to what she wants.

part 5 behaviour

because at this point,, they're together but not together,, jungkook tests the boundaries. they have a lot of unspoken rules so he does all he can to break them. oc,, doesn't really do much to stop him and i found it really important to decrease/limit her doubts because 1) the tutor thing wasn't really meant to be this whole trust issue thing 2) they have a lot of security in each other 3) the scenes where he skips the gala,, shows up when she has food poisoning,, when she had a hard day and he comes over to check on her ... it all shows the kind of friend he is and oc feels safe and secure in the man he is and how good he is to her

smut

ok i was realy nervous about this because 1) i was sick as a fucking dog writing the scene 2) i didn't want to disappoint 3) it had to live up to thefic title.

sometimes, i think i have to write these really wild scenes with position switching and insane dirty talk,, but because oc is a virgin... i thought it would be more fun to show her increasing interest to be intimate with him. the dry humping scene was HILIARIOUS to me. i thought it was a funny way of her exploring how fast jungkook would fold and the glasses part... yeah. i really like the way it led to their moment lol.

the actual sex scene i think turned out really cute. they have this... intense yet intimate energy between them. jk taking the lead but oc also knowing what she wants? the way they fuck and kind of just get lost in holding each other... the kissing narration?? learning her?? yeah. that tickled my brain. love the way oc has this playfulness during the entire thing,, meanwhile jungkook was losing his mind seeing her tits.

jealousy/communication

what's a kimi fic without her collateral damage hottie of the month ? first it was eunwoo/dex for c2u, mingyu for aao, and now it's dohwan for bed chem LOL. i think adding this and specifically my choice in who is coming in to play brings this relevancy into my fics that readers are able to laugh and relate to. brings connection yk!!

dohwan was so harmless ahahhaa. ngl, i think oc hearing jk fuck someone was like a "uh... omg. yikes.. i think i'm kinda jealous rn lol" moment but jk seeing a hickey on oc + being in a complicated state with her was a very "i want to die and i want you in the front row so you can see how much u hurt me and then i want u to cry over me,, only for me to beg god in the afterlife for another chance to live so i can comfort you" moment for him.

their communication/banter was such a big part of this fic. i think the plainness of their words held so much significance that after each line,, it felt like their tension would shift. again, specific word choice was really important. their banter and ongoing walking around their feelings was essential in keeping them (and readers) on their toes. their original ending was supposed to be this vague realization that they wanted to be together and the irony was that i wasn't supposed to write their smut scene and leave it as this tension filled open-ended fic,, but i'm glad i did what i did and gave them a definite ending.

some key lines i put into oc's dialogue was

"think i can do it? get you to want me?" to "i don't know how to have you" and finally; "i want you" was veryyyyyyy... premeditated. it gave this storyline through 3 lines and i really liked thatttt

the pavlov thing was funny as fuck cos again,, she's a psych major LOL. and the woof woof thing LOLLOLOL. very kimi core crackhead vibes

kiss, marry, fuck,, and kill;

you're so real and so funny for that HAHAHAA. protecting c2u jk fr cos that kid went thru so much chasing after c2u oc LOL

extra/ending note;

i'll think abt the extra!! i don't really think they have much left in terms of plot cos everything is basically all done... the friendgroup def knew smt was up but never said anything cos they mind their own business. i think it's pretty obvious as they 1) always sent oc to jk's room 2) teased them a lot 3) scolded them a lot esp taehyung

anyways,, u are literally the sweetest !!! i love receiving asks like this. i was afraid that ch5 would be too long and because there were so many scenes,, i felt like the significance of each one would be mushed up into one entire review/outcome. thank u for going into detail !!! i know a few readers say they read every word i write ,, so it's very rewarding to hear your thoughts with each scene and letting me yap from a writers/creative perspective

currently still recovering from being sick ,, finishing up my winter sem at school + preparing holiday related events for my preschool LOL. bed chem was so fun to write and i'm so incredibly blown away from the amount of love and support it has received in the past since i posted it. like... 1.7k already?? almost 1k on avg with each part?? uhhh... what the heck !!!

all in all,, i'm glad it fed everyones delulu mind. glad to know we're all ovulating together <3

i can't wait to share more fics with you all in 2025 😽💓

mwahh

kimi

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Dramione Drabble 4.

Theo took a deep drag of his cigarette as he peered up at his friend who was pacing the length of Theo’s study with nervous energy. Exhaling, he allowed his eyes to drift up, following the curl of smoke that rose slowly into the air above his head.

“I thought Granger was okay.” Theo said as he flicked the ash from his cigarette and into the ashtray made of marble. It sat on the chestnut wooden table beside his favorite chair.

Draco laughed but it was tortured and loud. It bit, like the bark of a dog about to attack it’s owner. “She’s fine. I mean, I think she is?” His feet stopped moving long enough for him to run his hands tiredly over his face, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palms before he resumed his journey back and forth along the black rug that was laid out in the middle of the room.

“What do you mean? Didn’t you just leave the hospital?” Theo lifted the cigarette to his lips for another drag.

“Yes.” He growled before throwing himself, finally, into the chair next to Theo’s.

Theo blew out smoke as he tilted his head, observing Draco. “You’ve been incredibly grim since you called me to the hospital.”

“She died, Theo.”

“You saved her.” He pointed at him, cigarette still between his fingers and threatening to drop ash all over the floor. He leaned over the arm of the chair and flicked the ash into the marble dish.

Draco frowned and rolled tension out of his neck, moving it side to side.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, actually...” Theo started, eyeing the tell-tale signs of a Draco who was holding onto something important. Something dark and secretive. “How did you save her, by the way.”

With a frown still pressed firmly into his mouth, tension bracketing it, Draco shook his head. “I already told you.”

“Yes, but...” Theo shoved the cigarette into the dish, putting it out. “There’s something off about you.” Theo took a breath when Draco looked up at him with a scowl. “More than usual,” He amended. “You’re frightfully unhinged.”

“I’m not unhinged, Theo.” Draco slapped a hand down, lowering it from his face, to land onto the arm of his chair. “I’m freaking out.”

“Because Granger died.”

“Yes.”

“And you saved her.” Draco was quiet. “And because you love her.”

“I don’t love her, Theo. She’s my coworker.”

“Who you obsess over.”

“I don’t.”

“But, you do. You talk about her all the time and when you aren’t with me and Pansy, you’re with her. Which is increasingly more and more. And now, after spending the last three days attached to her hand as she lay limply in a hospital bed, she’s finally woken up and you’re...” Theo swept a hand out, gesturing to the room around them. “Here.”

“Potter and Weasley showed up.”

“Ah,” Theo clasped his hands and steepled them before pressing them to his mouth. “The fiancé.”

“The fucking git.” Draco growled and threw his head back against the chair. So hard that Theo was certain that it hurt.

“Tell me what really happened on Monday, Draco.” Theo lifted a brow when his friend looked at him, a mild look of surprise on his face. “Come on, mate. You know I know you. You weren’t entirely honest in your report to the staff, were you?”

Draco’s lips pressed into a tight, thin line, before he inhaled deeply through his nose. “He killed her.” He said, quietly. “That bastard used the killing curse on her, hit her square in the back.” He slashed his hand out, as if he could cut the wizard down once more. “So,” He sat up and straightened the collar of his shirt. Which was terribly wrinkled from having slept in a hospital chair for three nights. “I killed him.”

“I figured. How did you do it?”

“I used the same curse.” He sniffed. “After bashing his head against granite.”

“Atta boy.” Theo shrugged. “So, what? The wizard had it coming.”

“That’s not what I’m upset about, Theo. I know he deserved it. I could do it a million more times and not feel a shred of remorse.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Theo stood from his chair and stretched his arms high above his head. Enjoying the bit of light headedness that came from the combination fo the cigarette and getting up too fast.

“I may have,” Draco pursed his lips, fumbling for the right words. “Turned her into a horcrux?”

Theo’s arms froze above his head as the words sunk in. Slowly lowering his arms, he looked down at his friends guilty face and knew he wasn’t lying. He wasn’t pulling some absurd kind of joke. He wasn’t trying to get a rise out of him.

“What.” Theo took a deep breath. “Do you mean, you turned her into a horcrux?” Theo rounded on his friend, hissing the last words of his question into his face. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I could feel her soul there, her magic was slowly slipping away, Theo! I used the kill of the assailant and I took a piece of my soul — a sliver, really. I can’t even tell it’s gone — and I attached it onto hers.”

“How do you even know how to do that shit, Draco?” Theo pressed a hand over his eyes.

“I looked into it after the war.” He frowned and shook his head. “But it’s not like I’m trying to make several. I’m not trying to become immortal, Theo. I needed to save her! I needed her back!” He shot to his feet and grabbed the front of Theo’s shirt. “She was slipping away and I needed her to stay. It felt like I had died, too, right then and there. So, I figured, what the fuck, right? If this is what its like to die, then why not part with a little bit of my soul?”

“Because it’s the darkest kind of fucking magic there is, Draco!” Theo grabbed onto his shoulders and shook him. “Does she know?”

“No.” He shook his head and licked at his dry, cracked lips. “But she will. She’ll figure it out. She’s fucking brilliant, I know she will figure it out.” Draco’s face crumpled. “She’s going to fucking hate me, Theo.”

Ah, the real reason for Draco’s woeful despair.

He shook his head and patted his shoulders. “It’s alright, Draco. We’ll figure this out.”

“How? What’s there to figure out? She’s got a piece of me in her. She’s alive and I fucked up but, did I?” He asked, frantic and breathless. “Did I really fuck up? Because she’s alive and she’s still her.” He paused and shook his head. “I mean, for the most part, she’s still her.”

“What do you mean, for the most part?”

“Well, her eyes changed. They’re a bit like mine, actually.”

“Mate,” Theo sighed and lowered his head. “What the actual fuck?”

“It’s nothing. They don’t know.” They, Theo assumed, meant everyone. “As far as they know, it’s a mysterious curse. And really, she’s vital and just as beautiful as before.”

“Beautiful as...Draco,” Theo smacked his cheek, hard enough to shut him up but not hard enough to anger him. “Focus.”

“On?”

“We need to figure out what this is going to do to you. And her.”

“As long as I’m alive, she’s fine. Right? Or is it the other way around?”

“Fuckme.” Theo muttered and pushed away from his friend. “Just, don’t do anything rash until we figure it out. Okay?” He looked over his shoulder and eyed his friend.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Draco murmured with a shake of his head. But Theo saw it in his face. Draco was calculating. He was hungry for Granger, starved. He had been pining after her for the last two years and it was starting to eat at him.

Now, that bit of his soul that was being eaten away by his love for her was now, possibly, inside of her.

What that meant, Theo didn’t know. But surely, it wasn’t going to be decent.

[whumpsday]

Uh, hello, hope this isn’t strange at all but I just wanted to say your writing is (not sure if you’re fine with cussing so sorry if you’re not :/) fucking amazing. I can’t express it in any other way that is actually coherent, but yeah. So, here’s an entire little ramble about my general feelings of amazement towards your writing that I haven’t left in comments otherwise because A) I have severe social anxiety and extreme shyness and overthinky tendencies so I am primarily a lurker and B) This is just how I express my kudos to people whose stuff I like (sorry if it’s horribly unstructured and generally unhinged; I am not the best at conveying feelings through words and I tend to just word vomit all my unfiltered thoughts.)

Sifting through my memory, you’re probably the first actual whump series I tentatively got into, like the first series I probably read, and it spurred my realization (self discovery?) from there. Starting off, the Kane and Jim thing is just done so fucking well, I can see all the scenes so vividly in my imagination (the picrews definitely help but also you describe and narrate and whatever the hell English teachers say it is so well. I mean the writing it’s so damn descriptive. That might just be a side effect of my really vivid imagination and also me being a very simple person, but still, I fucking love it), I can tell you put a lot of thought and work into writing the chapters (also with how long it takes for updates.

I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, take as much time as you need to make the chapters how you want them to be so they have their fullest potential). The way you write each of the characters, each of them has their distinctive personalities (to me that’s amazing since whenever I try to write, I can never get the words to be like that if it makes sense), the way you’ve built and developed each of the characters and how you portray them in your writing is fucking beautiful. Even the little drabbles are so well put together (hope that doesn’t sound weird, that’s a compliment. My brain is seeing the tone as rude somehow)

I don’t think I have enough words or brain ability to coherent my thoughts to conceptualize to you how amazing your writing is but I swear it’s amazing (really hope this doesn’t come across as buttering you up or anything like that. I genuinely am just trying to express my amazement), but long story short, I hope you continue to work on your series and I can’t wait for whenever you update it!

As for the somewhat unrelated part of the ask, yeah, again, you’re probably the person who spurred on and was the starting point (????) for my self discovery of whump. That is to say, I never realized that it was whump that I liked reading and also in general (finally understand why I have a fascination with torture and putting my brain blorbos and others through hell and then comfort and the like lol), and your series, granted, while it wasn’t the first, was the catalyst for me getting into it. I’m not sure if this would be exaggerating on my part, but if I didn’t discover you, I probably wouldn't have discovered all of the other blogs whom I love reading from or seeing content I like or heck even helping me create and develop some new concepts for characters or worldbuilding (I really like doing that as a hobby).

So thank you for the inspiration (is that even the word?) and discovery, but also screw you because now it’s taking up my brain energy for stuff like learning and trying to get into other hobbies (I’m joking, I don’t actually screw you to clarify. It’s sarcasm, I really want to make that clear, I’m not good at text tone).

I hope one day to be able to get the motivation and push aside my brain doubts to write stuff like you do (and also every other writer out there I lurk on who might be reading this. I hope that doesn’t come off as disingenuous by me saying that and not only saying you, I’m probably overthinking that severely…) and, if it’s not at all an issue, that I’d be able to perhaps ask some advice for writing in the future (if I ever work up the courage thanks to social anxiety.). I have so much more to say but my brain unfortunately does not have the capacity to translate chaotic brain thoughts into coherent words (and the damn thing keeps thinking of more things to add on and agh-) but long story short, I’m very glad you exist and thank you for writing the Kane and Jim story

I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night, are staying hydrated, taking care of yourself, and, if you’re still experiencing it, you get past whatever writer's block you have at the moment (and if you don’t, take it as a little brain break. Or don’t, I’m not your parent) :)

Also I deeply apologize if this comes off as strange or too much or stalkerish or whatever and I fully understand if it’s off putting. Adding this probably doesn’t help, but overthinking and social anxiety is a fucking bitch

aw anon this is so so sweet!! i'm honored my writing has had such an impact for you!! you are def overthinking yourself, there is nothing wrong with this message at all, i love it!! <3

and yes, you can feel free to send more asks if you like! you are braver than i am: for the past several months, i've had an email drafted to my old high school english teacher thanking her for everything she did for me (i'd never have gotten into writing without her), letting her know i'm also working in education now and have some published work, but i'm way too shy... i will try to take inspiration from you and send that email!!

and also finish the chapter i'm working on lol.

[tortor-sauce]

18+ POST LOOK AWAY 👹🔞 if you’re not 18+ PLEASE DNI with this post!! 👹🔞

(sketch and drabble and headcanons)

(jel/reth/oc stuff)

GO AWAY LOOK AWAY!!!!! IM WARNING YOU 🔪

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP I CANT EVEN TAG THIS I DONT EVEN WANT PEOPLE TO SEE BUT I HAVE TO SHOW SOMEONE AND TALK ABOUT IT OR I’LL EXPLODE!!!!

i’m too shy to share the whole picture IM SORRY—i just wanted to capture a few headcanons into a single shamelessly horny drawing of the three of them together. also, my thoughts are completely unorganized and this post is mostly just me rambling!

small disclaimer, if you don’t agree with or like my headcanons, that’s totally valid but please don’t tell me so 🙇 i kindly ask you just move on from this post. thank you!

okay. so i feel like both reth and jel are service tops HEAR ME OUT—like, they’re both just a couple of pathetic lover boys who are so head over heels in love with you. the fact they practically always gift you something when you flirt with them in-game (jel gifting silk and reth gifting soup) i feel is their attempts at spoiling you and taking care of you in their own way. they just want to see you happy and make you cum your brains out a thousand times until you can’t think straight anymore 🥺

and in general, i feel jel would love to shower you in compliments and words of praise and practically worship your body. while i feel reth is the type to show you how he feels and relish in watching you come undone with him. but personally 👉👈 i feel jel and reth align more closely as switches because they’re both so.. so soft and need to be spoiled and loved so deeply (no innuendo intended)

with that said, i think jel is a more intimate and passionate lover while reth is a bit more unhinged and rough. that’s not to say jel doesn’t have his sadistic bouts. i feel it stems directly from his obsessive nature and grows into a desire to watch you submit to him and his whims, sort of in a controlling way. but it makes him so happy when you do. the need to know you belong to him, both your heart and body, is honestly really important to him. i actually feel he has control issues due to a number of reasons but that’s a different discussion—💀 and he rewards you so thoroughly for showing him how much you love him. god, the aftercare? he’s so gentle and attentive and treats you like the most precious thing he’s ever held.

more on reth, while not as sadistic, i feel he’s still plenty controlling when he wants to be. the poor man has hardly any control in his day-to-day life and the fact you allow him an ounce of control? over your body of all things? yeah, that shit drives him mad (positive). gets a bit carried away and leaves marks on your body, hickeys, scratches, bruises, the like. but hey, at least it’s a pretty reminder of how much fun you had together. plus, if anyone sees they’ll know you belong to him. but he definitely teases you about it the following days by making sly comments and even running his fingers over the more sensitive marks.

so, in my polycule i envision moments where two will actively spoil the other. so for instance like when maddox and reth want to spoil jel and shower him in the love and affection he deserves, he gets all shy and blushy but relishes in the moment. he pays them back tenfold once they’re finished, but not that same night. maddox and reth make sure he’s completely worn out so he’ll finally get some damn sleep for once. reth is the same in that regard; he gets all shy and blushy but he enjoys being spoiled for once. not having to care about anything or anyone else and focus fully on himself and his pleasure. and the two know this and want to show him how loved he is. lowkey i imagine jel bringing him to tears, crying tears of pleasure and from overstimulation but that may be a personal thing of mine. 💀 and as for maddox? they both know exactly which buttons to push. i imagine them sort of egging each other along. i mentioned earlier i think jel has a sadistic side to him, well i think the same of reth albeit not nearly as prominent. like, the fact he teases and flirts so much could be for a number of reasons, but how lovely it would be if it were only to watch their reactions each time. with that said, maddox happens to be very reactive and discovering that fact in bed, like, awakens something inside of him to tease more, to push as much as maddox will allow him. and yes, he notices the way jel reacts to it too. it only makes him want to tease him for the fact as well 🥴 WHICH is why i drew him with that expression LMAO normally i would’ve imagined him with a much softer and kinder expression but i think he’s quick to lose himself in the throes of pleasure which causes him to act a bit selfish at times. but like i said, i see him as a service top so really his ‘selfish’ moments are him just spoiling maddie and jel and showering their bodies with so much love and attention.

i have so many more thoughts but this post is getting long and i’m getting embarrassed so i’ll stop there for now.

IF YOU READ THIS IM SORRY LOL BUT THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME///////

[gasolinerainbowreads]

↓ ICON LEGEND ↓

🌈 = title 🪆 = series, multiple parts, etc. 💎 = hidden gem/should have more reblogs/followers imo 🔋 = make sure your vibrator is charged before reading 😈 = Horny Demon Hours™ approved 🥹 = hurts so good/ouch, my feelings 🧠 = did somethin to my brain/altered my brain chemistry

Here's what I read in September along with a comment/thought/favorite excerpt:

@atticrissfinch

🌈 Now I See Daylight ⇨ 🪆🥹 we get punished, and we do not like it. This made me feel VERY BRATTY reading it lmaoooo. DO NOT GIVE ME THE SILENT TREATMENT, DADDY.

@softlyspector

🌈 Moss & Mushrooms ⇨ 😈🧠 IT’S GIVING THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER WITH BONUS DICK DOWNS, AND I AM GOBBLING IT UP! SUPERB. 🌈 Blush ⇨ 🪆🥹🧠 IMPECCABLE. INSANELY IMMERSIVE. SICKENING TALENT. MAKES ME WANT TO GO TAKE A NAP IN A MUD PIT. GETTING THE SIDE OF THE OREO THAT HAS THE CRÈME FILLING ON THE WAFER. YOUR FAVORITE FLAVOR OF SLURPEE IS READY TO BE DISPENSED. YOUR HANGNAIL DOESN’T TEAR OFF. YOUR SHOELACES DON’T DRAG ON THE GROUND BC THEY’RE TOO LONG. THIS IS THAT. NO I WON’T BE EXPLAINING ANY OF IT.

@thetriumphantpanda

This series really covers a whole lotta kinks for me lmao. Breeding kink. Pregnancy kink. Creampies. Daddy kink. 🌈 Come Away with Me (Tuesday) ⇨🪆🔋🥹 “Imagine this is it?” He mumbles against the skin of your shoulder, leaning forward, “Imagine the time it takes is the time I fuck you against a tree like this.”  🌈 Come Away with Me (Wednesday) ⇨🪆🔋🥹 “Gonna fill me up, daddy?” You ask, the word slipping out of your mouth before you can catch it.  🌈 Come Away with Me (Thursday) ⇨🪆🔋🥹 “You’re in love with me, aren’t you?” He asks quietly, it’s soft, there isn’t an ounce of judgement or remorse to be found in his voice, and it’s not there in his eyes when you push yourself off his lap and turn to look at him. “Isn’t it obvious?” You ask him, “You’re in love with me too.” You don’t accuse him, it’s a statement of fact, because you know he’s been in love with you since the night he stayed when you were trying for Joshua.

@joelscruff

🌈 Beyond Infatuation ⇨ 🔋🧠 “Jesus,” Tommy mutters, and you open your eyes enough to see them both staring at your fucked-out hole, watching Joel’s come dribble downward into the sheets, “Filled her up real good.”

@swiftispunk

🌈 In My Hometown Headcanons ⇨ 🪆🥹 Omg it's the Lil Sebastian of Joel fics 💕 he can hardly remember how it felt to fear this, to fear being with you. now, he can’t shut up about you, giddy every time he gets to call you that word. it’s such a simple thing, reminds him of being young - “my girlfriend’s pickin’ sarah up tonight,” “my girlfriend chose this shirt for me,” “my girlfriend and i are goin’ out later” - doesn’t matter the context, he loves referring to you that way, even if it’s a little trivial maybe, even if it doesn’t quite capture how deep his feelings really run for you. if he’s honest, it might be that he likes the word “my” better than “girlfriend.” 🌈 Your Summer Dream, Day 6 - Savour ⇨🪆🔋🥹 Get you a man who blows your back out so good he blows his own back out, too lmaoooooo 🌈 Your Summer Dream, Day 3 bonus ⇨ 🪆🔋🥹🧠 my brain skipped the tracks on this one, babes. derailed me for a hot minute. the whole in the doorframe thing just makes my brain go fucking static. 🌈 Mad Love drabble ⇨🔋😈🧠 “kill him,” you say and joel finally looks over at you, sees you with your hand over your cunt, another smirk playing at his lips at the sight.

@ezrasbirdie

my bb rly scratchin that somnophilia itch with these 🌈 Claim ⇨🔋😈 “That’s right, baby, that’s right. Goddamn, you sleep heavy,” he murmurs. He slides another finger in and makes the same noise, fucking you gently with both of them, pulling your legs open further, and repositioning himself between them.  “One more, sweetheart, one more for me,” he says. A harsh sigh emerges from you as he pushes a third digit inside of you.  It almost hurts. You want it to hurt more.  🌈 More ⇨ 🔋😈 the debauchery is unhinged and perfect

@toxicanonymity

🌈 Clock ⇨ 🪆🔋😈 this lil dehydrated, crybaby bitch is the loml some days. 🌈 Needs ⇨🪆💎🔋🥹 Part of her "Finally Fucking Friday". Virginity loss. Soft!Joel. 🌈 Fires ⇨🪆💎🔋🥹 POV switching done well. inadvertently hilarious reader.

@sugarcoated-lame

🌈 untitled ⇨💎🔋🥹 idgaf if this isn't technically a proper fic. it's more of a ramble/thots type thing, but i enjoyed it immensely and am putting it on this list because it made me horny and also bc i fucking want to.

@gracieispunk

🌈 Bloody ⇨ 🪆🔋🥹 my fave menace is back aka tenant girl who is innocent and perfect. the panic at being in missionary sent me. 🌈 Heat Wave ⇨🔋 Joel is just ssooo thoughtful when he hears you moaning in your sleep and decides to help. What a gentleman.

@millerscoffee

🌈 Heat Lightning ⇨ 💎🔋😈🥹 sub!Joel. mommy kink. aftercare.

@bageldaddy

🌈 I Know It When I See It, Pt 5 ⇨🪆🔋😈🥹 HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS JUST KEEP GETTING BETTER?!?!?! --- also, i want to punch the fucking air over the fact that i cannot go onto pornhub and type in "Lucky+Texas+bondage" and have this come up. life is NOT FAIR.

@frannyzooey FREE MY BITCH FROM TUMBLR JAIL!

🌈 In The Dark blurb ⇨ 🪆🔋😈 *screams into the void* --- hot. HOT. I'm obsessed with In The Dark (go read that entire series right now if you haven't. It's so beyond amazing.). This was just icing on the cake. 🌈 Squirming ⇨🔋 the way I would be THRASHING so I could get a "goodnight treat" lmaoooooooo 🌈 Short Days, Long Nights 13 ⇨🪆🔋🥹 The words come pouring out of his mouth before he can stop them, but once they’re out, he can’t stop saying them. Burying his face in your chest, he says the words directly over your pounding heart. “I love you, honey. Fuck, I love you.”

@iamskyereads

🌈 Compulsion, Pt 6 ⇨🪆🔋😈🧠 One of THE BEST versions of Ezra I've ever come across in fic. SO GOOD. SERIOUSLY SO FUCKING GOOD.

@netherfeildren

🌈 The Cassandra Complex, Pt 3 ⇨🪆🔋😈🧠 This story is so well-written, the plot is beautifully crafted, the imagery is wonderful. No surprises there, right? It's Vic lmao. It ain't gonna be anything but amazing! Having said that... the smut in this chapter..... whew. WHEW. You outdid yourself, Vic.

@velvetmud

🌈 home video blurb ⇨🔋😈 But you don’t find the words or the energy to conjure up an answer. You’ve become too lost, too deep in the moment giving your own boyfriend’s dad another long orgasm he’s been saving up just for your face. “Gonna tell him his dad’s thick cock fucked and wrecked this throat all night?” he asks, pointer finger dragging down your aching jaw. He continues with a whisper. “That I split that pussy open on it whenever you come over to see him, too?”

@psychedelic-ink

🌈 Ravish ⇨🪆🔋😈 Okay I love the set up of this story and also the way Joel is chill about ~cam girls~. But I did bust up laughing when she saw his dick and was like wtf idk man idk if that's gonna fit and his ass hits her with the I've seen you shove bigger dildos into your pussy you'll be fine lmaooooooooo.

@tieronecrush

🌈 Only Angel, Ch 2 ⇨🪆🥹 “I’ll be waiting for a call, Javi. And I’ll see you Monday, Professor Peña.” You give him one last look, giggling as you shut the door and he hits the top of the taxi before you drive away, standing there with an idiotic smile on his face.

@cavillscurls

🌈 Eyes on Me ⇨🔋😈 Tommy watches you fuck Joel. Just go read it already! 🌈 Lover Man ⇨🥹 Soft and fluffy. You play with Joel's hair bc he is bb grl and deserves tenderness.

@walkintotheriveranddisappear

🌈 Waiting Room ⇨🪆🥹 I love this series, and this part carries so much of the story. The break down of relationship dynamics and friendships and people just trying to figure shit out was *chef's kiss*

@haylzcyon

🌈 Slow ⇨🔋 *chanting* EZRA EZRA EZRA EZRA “Fuck me slow, Ezra.”

@the-ginger-hedge-witch

🌈 Everything ⇨ 🪆🥹 from one of my all-time fave series Adversity. I'm not going to write too much of a blurb here bc I will go absolutely off the rails about Adversity if prompted lmaooooo.

@mandoblowmybackout

🌈 Eyes on Me ⇨🔋 Ezra gets his ass ate and fingered. *wipes tear* It's just so beautiful.

@leslie-lyman

🌈 Focus ⇨🔋 Ezra hypnokink that makes me very horny every time I read it.

@pascalisbaby

🌈 Heaven ⇨ 🔋 sub!Joel just wants to make us feel good, as he should. 🌈 Control ⇨🔋 now we're subbing and think we wanna dom but you know what sometimes it's just best if Joel doms 😅

@hier--soir

🌈 Whole New Can of Worms ⇨🪆🔋🥹 yyyooooo I wanna be BFF with Joel if it means getting dicked down that good. jesus!

@cupofjoel

🌈 Switching the Positions ⇨🔋🥹 The domesticity. The fluff. The fucking. Perfection.

@chloeangelic

🌈 Reflection of the Moon, Ch 5 ⇨🪆🔋🥹 Joel Miller ascending to baby daddy status. We love to see it.

@the-scandalorian

🌈 Mine ⇨🔋😈 🗣️ PRONE BONE ANAL

@northernbluess

🌈 Art of Healing, Ch 5 ⇨🪆🥹 I. Am. OBSESSED. with this series. Marcus Pike, art therapist. It's a slow build, and the story is PHENOMENAL. I have gone back and re-read chapters of this so many times. I adore this story!!

WHEW HOLY SHIT I DID IT.

I know this is basically a month late. I apologize. I'm gonna go ahead and apologize in advance for whenever the October wrap up rolls around bc I'm pretty sure I read even more this past month than I did in September. *screams into pillow*

If all the writers in this fandom could please stop being so fucking talented and amazing please that would really help my To Be Read list.

😩

SEE Y'ALL NEXT MONTH

[mint-yooxgi]

Victory - Yandere!Demigod!Minho

Yandere AU & Demigod AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Minho X Implied Chubby!Reader

Words: 1,848

Warnings: Implied murder, nudity, and dirty thoughts. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, he's supposed to be the son of Nike, the Greek Goddess of victory in this. I really like how this one turned out, ngl, it's just the right amount of unhinged and feral in my mind, so I hope you'll agree! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

The Sixth of The Feral Drabbles

Last night still feels so surreal, like a dream come true.

Of all the trophies I have won, of all the hardships and trials I have been put up against, none are as valuable as you. Yet, you are not another conquest. You are my forever.

The euphoric taste of victory has never been sweeter, and I will revel in it for as long as I possibly can. As long as it wasn’t all a dream, and that when I open my eyes, you are still sleeping soundly beside me in all of your naked glory.

Thank the Gods, it was real. It was all real.

There you lay, as still as the moon in the night sky.

So peaceful. 

So beautiful. 

And all mine.

I’ll admit, getting this far has been no easy feat. Tartarus below, getting you to even look in my direction had been a challenge. A challenge that I had been more than willing to win.

For me, there is no one else. Only you. 

All the others that demand my attention are so superficial, only seeing what they want to see. They only desire the Goddess’ son for what he can offer them, never for who I really am. They want the victories associated with my name. They want the fame and fortune I have worked so hard to gather. 

But not you. No, never you.

Long have you ignored me. Long have you expressed your desire, or rather, lack there of, of what I can offer you. You never cared about titles. You never cared about trophies, fame, fortune, or any of that shit. Who I am, or rather, who my mother is never caught your attention. In fact, you couldn’t have cared less about me before.

I won’t lie to you. It annoyed me.

It- it- hurt…

Sure, everyone who usually demands my attention is superficial and annoying. Yet, I cannot help but live for their praise. Attention is still attention, according to my mother, so I’ve always thrived in it. I always love it.

Maybe that’s what drew me to you in the first place: the fact that you seemingly didn’t care.

Why didn’t you? Hadn’t you heard of me? The famed Nike’s son who singlehandedly defeated the hydra beast when he was only seventeen? How about the countless olympic victories I’ve garnered through the years, numerous statues being erected in honour of my strength and valued deeds? Surely you had heard my name before, even if just a whisper on the wind.

Well, you had, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care that I was born of the Gods. You didn’t care that I have valour or strength. 

You don’t even care about how attractive I am. Though, thanks to last night, I know now that you find me to be the most handsome of all.

Definitely doesn’t stroke my ego, or anything…

I can still remember how shy you became once you admitted to it. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve experienced something more euphoric in my entire life, or cuter for that matter. Knowing I have this effect on you is unlike any other, and I never want it to stop, and if I have my way, it never will.

We will be together for all eternity. I’ll make sure of it.

Anyways, I digress… finally, for the first time, I had found someone who wanted to get to know me for me, and not my conquests. All of my attempts to impress you through my grandiose accomplishments meant nothing. It’s the little things that truly mattered to you, like me helping that baker the one day when he broke his arm, or protecting that little girl from straying into one of the hidden labyrinth entrances. That is what seemed to make you notice me.

I’ll admit, for a time, I purposely did any and every little thing to make you look my way. It was worth it in the end, obviously. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be laying here with me in my bed after the night we had.

Oh, what a night it was! Even now, I cannot help the way my eyes flutter at the memories that consume my mind. You are so sweet, My Love, that I desperately long for another taste. For now, I’ll leave you to sleep. After all, you’ll need your rest if we are to continue on today just as we did last night.

I won’t lie to you, My Love, getting to love you, to cherish you and please you, is the greatest honour that anyone, living or dead, could ever bestow upon me. There is no higher pleasure I have ever felt in my entire life than the feeling of being locked between your legs. Your skin is softer than any finery the Gods could ever craft. Your voice is the sweetest song composed of melodies meant only for me. Not even Aphrodite herself could compete with your beauty, nor Thanatos tear you away from me in death. I would crawl through the River Styx and rain my terror upon Hades were he to even attempt to keep your departed soul away from me.

Nothing could keep me away from you. I love you.

I never thought I was capable of love, other than the desperate acceptance I sought through my many victories. I wanted to be loved, not be in love.

You changed that. You changed me.

Now, there is not a single thing that I don’t love about you. There is nothing I would change. From the way you smile at me, only for me, to the way you sigh my name so sweetly. To the way you comb your fingers through my hair after a long day, to the way you hug me so tightly when you’re seeking warmth. Your laugh, which is the most melodic symphony I have had the pleasure of hearing, other than your moans, of course. Your eyes, your nose, your body…I love it all.

I can’t fight it any longer, My Love, I need to hold you in my arms once more.

There. That’s better.

Just the way your body moulds against mine is perfect. We were made for each other, wouldn’t you agree? Besides, no one else can have you. No mere mortal could ever please you in the same ways I have. Not anymore.

You are mine, and I am yours.

My lips will forever burn searing kisses along your skin, singing your praise as long as I still draw breath. I will spend all of eternity composing poems of my deepest love for you, and you alone. Only you shall have the honour of hearing what your name sounds like falling from my lips, for only you are worthy. 

Worthy of my love. 

Worthy of my affection. 

More than all of that, worthy of me.

My hands shall grace no other’s skin, lest it is in defence of your honour. Then, I will never be afraid to reign my terror over them. My strength is unmatched, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, My Love, but when I set my sights on something, I do not stop until I have achieved my deepest desires.

My deepest desires…

You know, I never thought anyone would be able to understand me the way you do. How you can make me fall apart so easily - from just a single glance - escapes me. I have never experienced a love like this, and I hope to every God on Olympus that you haven’t, either.

I want to drown you in my love until all that you know, all that you can speak of, is me. I will surround you in me until you no longer can tell where you end and I begin. We are meant to be one, in this life, and the next, and all of the rest after that. I’ll make sure of it.

You are my greatest victory, and I will make sure to be your only prize. 

Let the others say what they want, they don’t matter. They’re just jealous, anyways. However, if I hear even one of them so much as speak one negative or malicious word against you… I will not hesitate to rip their tongue from their mouth and feed it to the minotaur. Maybe I’ll just gift you their heart on a golden platter instead. Offer it in placement of my own. Mine only beats for you, anyways.

Do you feel it? It’s thundering right now. I’m surprised the intensity doesn’t wake you from your slumber. Not even my wandering hands seem to affect you at all right now.

That’s okay, I was pretty intense last night.

You can’t blame me, My Love. I finally had the honour of making love to the woman who owns my very soul.

I can still feel the way my fingertips sunk into your flesh, grabbing onto anything and everything I could reach, just as they do right now. Of course, I’m much gentler for the moment than I was last night. I couldn’t help it, I just had to pull you as close as possible to me. I wanted to feel every inch of your body pressed against my own. I’ve been longing for your touch for too long.

You’re additive, did you know that? There is no finer wine, no sweeter ambrosia than the nectar that flows from between those luscious thighs of yours. Seriously, My Love, I could get drunk on you, and I wish you had let me last night. My tongue longs to be back between your legs, lapping up every last drop that flows from that precious cunt of yours. I need my lips on you, bringing you to ecstasy again, and again, and again.

Pull my hair. Scratch my back. Moan my name. Scream your love for me, and say you’re mine.

Do it all over again until you are satisfied, because I fear I will never be able to get enough of you. I will claim you over, and over, and over again until I am satisfied, and Darling, when it comes to you, I’m insatiable.

Don’t think I haven’t notice how you keen into my touch when my arms are around you, pulling your body flush against mine. Don’t think I do not remember the way you begged for more as my cock buried itself in your tight little cunt. And don’t you think for one second I will ever forget the way I made you scream my name as you came for me.

I did that to you. I will continue doing that to you. Forevermore.

I will only ever be satisfied knowing that I have pleased My Goddess to the fullest extent. You will only know joy, you will only know happiness and love when you’re with me. My pleasure is your pleasure, and I hope that you can say the same for me. 

For if not…

Well…

Let’s just say you don’t want this to be the start of another competition. 

After all, I always win.

[blood-mocha-latte]

luztoye 61 drabble 💖

61. “I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.”

gigi this took me approximately One Thousand Years to develop and for that i apologize PROFUSELY… for some reason the prompt would Not click in my brain it was tragic. after much work and pleading and bargaining, might i offer you a rather unhinged snapshot into a loosely based princess bride fusion??

The way his steps seemed to drag across the stone of the flooring, cold and as impersonal as its master and echoing the hopeless sound of every person who’d ever been within its walls, told Joe everything he needed to know. 

It was matched by the low, grinding sound of the door opening, the heavy wood of the thing heaving against the flooring as George pushed it open, then closed again.

He didn’t spare a glance towards the bed, immediately crossing the few feet over to his desk, plainer than the rest of the room and adorned only with a jeweled box. 

Joe watched him, impossibly fond, before reminding himself it wasn’t the time for it. He could love him blindingly, all-encompassingly, once they were both safe.

The quiet rasp of the box ran down his numb, unfeeling spine as George opened it. Joe tried again, just as fruitlessly, to move in any way. He failed.

The dagger inside of the box was just as neatly adorned, though Joe was less focused on its jeweled handle than on the way that George grasped it, the way that he bore the fine cording of his neck to its blade with a careful hesitation that could almost be construed as melancholy. 

The new consort will be dead, murdered by the opposing kingdom by morning, and the prince will have his war. 

“Please don’t.” Joe said, hoarse and with some strained effort, before the dagger could get any closer to George’s neck. “It’s — you’re perfect in every way, but I’m not sure I’d like what a slashed throat would do for your visage.”

George’s head turned so fast that it almost made Joe huff something close to a laugh, painful as it may have been, as his eyes widened, shot through with the bloody setting sun that fell in through the window as he surged to his feet, chair toppling over in the process.

For always being loud, for always being brilliant and light, Joe’s name falling from his lips was quiet in comparison, and George dropped to the mattress, pressing a palm flat over Joe’s heart before even a second could have passed, dagger already forgotten at the desk. 

His other hand curved along Joe’s jaw, cradling it carefully as lips pressed immediately to his own, nearing harsh and open in a quiet pant of nonsensical words of relief before trailing over his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his forehead, anything George could reach.

“Joe.” He said again, and Joe did his best to kiss back, clumsy, trying to both feel and become accustomed to George’s weight on top of him. “Joe, I thought you were—”

Joe just hummed, clumsy against the corner of George’s mouth as the other curved his palms along the back of his neck, drawing him into an easier kiss. He tried, for the thousandth time, to even move his foot, and found it impossible in a frustrating mix of numbness and ache. “I don’t know what I was.” He said, which was true enough. 

He remembered The Pit of Despair, the… well, despair, and then darkness. Guarnere had summed it all up to him clumsily, wrapping up the confusing conclusion on Joe being almost-dead to his brother's killer and six fingers. 

George pressed his lips to the skin under Joe’s eye, trailed back to his cheek, parted lips finding Joe’s own for the thousandth time, and Joe didn’t really care about any of that. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, still quiet. The hand on Joe’s chest shook slightly, barely a tremor, as he traced the same loving path down the curve of his jaw, kissing at the gentle space below his ear. Joe hummed, the sound more of an awkward rumble from the depths of his chest that just made George shift on top of him, chest bleeding warmth into Joe’s own from the way they pressed together.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Joe asked, not as dry as he’d like as he shifted, managing to twitch his fingers against George’s wrist enough for him to twine their fingers together, not pausing where he pressed another kiss to the bridge of Joe’s nose almost absentmindedly. 

George just hummed, closed his eyes briefly to press his forehead to Joe’s own before kissing him again. “It’s not like you to not hold me back.” He said, a careful swipe-and-parry of spoken swordplay as his eyes shone, ever present in some sort of warming joke. “How—” Another pause, this time his mouth falling to his brow, “how did you get in? Everything’s been so locked down—”

Joe grimaced, didn’t want to think about it. George soothed the expression with his fingers and mouth in well under a second, kissing him again before considering his careful crusade. “Figured I had to save you.” He said, slightly muffled as George kissed the corner of his mouth, just below his lip with a hum.

“I need saving?” The words were bright, almost like a dance, and Joe clumsily took his hand in it with a short huff, kissed back yet again entirely too clumsily. 

“What you were about to do seems to tell me that you did.” It wasn’t really a joke, but George dismissed it with the soft exhale of a laugh as his mouth found Joe’s neck again. 

“Oh, please.” He murmured, came back to his mouth and kissed him for longer, this time, more reverent. “I was only going to do it because I thought you were gone.” 

Joe made a soft sound against his lips, managed to press his own kiss into the soft corner of George’s mouth. “We need to get you out of here,” He said, wanting the corners of George’s eyes to crinkle in the same ever laughter. “That doesn’t sound like you at all.” 

George just hummed, pulled back enough for Joe to see the way that his eyes shone, something between glassy and mirth. “Well,” He said, and when he dipped down to kiss Joe again, there was a faint taste of salt. “That’s because I’m not me if you’re not there. You know you’re the same way.” 

Joe made a soft noise against his cheek as George settled against him more fully, slowing his kisses if only to further sink into him. “I don’t like that.” He murmured, but didn’t protest when George just huffed, blinking rapidly and pulling away just enough to see the familiar way his mouth curved upwards.

“How can I help you, Dread Pirate?” He asked, voice settling into the more familiar swing and settle of a joke that Joe grasped onto carefully, turned over in his mind to help glide along the easy line they could walk. 

“Came to crash a party.” He said. George just hummed, both hands coming up to curve at either side of his face, thumbs running along his cheekbones. “Worried I might be too late, though.”

George just huffed, shook his head briefly and pressed the pad of his thumb into the careful dip below Joe’s cheekbone. “We didn’t say ‘I do.’” He said, eyes warm and wide, dipping closer yet again to kiss the other, pressing his lips along his jaw, the hollow of his cheek, his temple, the bridge of his nose in a reverent dance. “It doesn’t count if you don’t say ‘I do.’”

Joe hummed, managed to tilt his chin upwards enough for George to understand and press their mouths together again. “What a horrendous wedding.” He murmured against the others lips, got a breath of a laugh in agreement. “If that’s the case—” A pause, as the kiss sank briefly into something deeper, “—could I say something?” 

George kissed him more fully, pressed their foreheads together as his thumbs kept tracing their path along Joe’s cheekbones. “Please.”

“I love you.” Joe said and didn’t hesitate. Couldn’t, when the sun set both slowly and rapidly outside of the window and dyed George every color he saw behind his eyes, couldn’t when it was truer than anything else he’d ever had to say. George just hummed, a bit shaky, kissed him again. “I’m completely—” Another kiss. “—and utterly—” Another. “—in love with you. Please don’t get married.”

George’s huff of laughter was something Joe had heard dozens, thousands of times, had possibly dreamt of even more. He still couldn’t move, and still everything ached, but it seemed less, now. Always was less, with him. 

He didn’t respond, instead just kissed Joe again, deeper. “I’d like to run with you, this time.” He said, curving over Joe enough to kiss his cheek again. Joe kissed back clumsily, as best he could, wished he could push a hand through George’s hair. 

“You’re better at swords than I am, anyways.” He said, tried to find the swing and line that George loved to walk, and earned another warm breath of laughter, lips pressing to his temple before going to his lips again. 

It wasn’t a denial.

They could do it. They could get away, this time.

[recreationalfanfics]

Yandere Adventurer vs. Yandere Femme Fatale Drabble

Based off of these Yandere Adventurer and Yandere Femme Fatale Hcs. Big Question: Which one of them could get it?

You watch in shock as your co worker is being held by two officers, tears running down his face as he SWEARS he hadn't stolen those artifacts, but his pleas fell onto deaf ears. Your standing in front of the University doors, watching as everything went down along with everyone else, and unsure of what to make of the situation. It had been such a perfectly normal morning too, you and Richard talking about things from favorite historical events, to the most ridiculous ones that sound too unhinged to be real yet they actually happened. Then the police barged in, accusing him of stealing one of the relics that went missing when Jesse brought them back.

Jesse Reeves was an amazing human being, in your eyes. Not only was he smart (depending on the situation), he was a charming yet brave and daring man who had been to all types of places. Searching for lost treasures in the most wild parts of the world, stopping villainous plots and organizations in the Artic, and even discovering lost ruins in the deepest parts of the oceans. Now, he held the not-so-impressive title of being your best friend after meeting him during a grand opening of a new exhibit he brought back for the University.

You don't know how you became friends with someone as amazing as him but you weren't complaining! And you thought you had a friend in Richard but now, as you watched him vehemently try to deny stealing the artifacts and get shoved into a cop car, yelling and kicking and trying to break open the window with his shoulder, you weren't sure what to think of him.

Jesse, on the other hand, leaned against the brick wall entrance with his arms crossed, and wearing a smug grin on his face.. When Richard saw him, his eyes were filled with betrayal but soon flared with anger as he yelled muffled cusses towards the blonde man, but no one could hear him. Nevermind believe him that THE Jesse Reeves would steal something from the museum when he had loyally been bringing back relics for them for ages, nevermind to frame a boring old co-worker like Richard who hasn't even worked a full month at the university. Yes, no one would believe Richard if he told them, but they really should've.

With a taunting wave, Jesse then stood up straight and walked over to you, reverting to his more bubbly personality as he stood next to you.

"Now, what in the wide world happened here?" He asked, a very convincing clueless look on his face.

- Yandere Adventurer now realizes the full extent of his feelings for you after that stupid co-worker is away and taken care of. He doesn't just love you, he's completely enamored by you! Out of all the treasures in the world, you're the most precious one he's come across, and he's decided that he wants to keep you to himself.

- Yandere Adventurer does get annoyed when you say that you'll miss Richard though. Why? Yeah, he might've lightened your workload but that was just about all he was useful for, at least, in Jesse's eyes he was.

"I mean, I didn't expect HIM to have been behind the theft. He seemed genuinely excited to work here." You wondered aloud, still unsure what to think about the events that transpired in the early morning.

"I bet he was, probably 'cuz he was fixin' to get his fingers on those artifacts." Jesse suggested, a bit of a scowl on his face. You assumed its because he's upset that he had such a hard time finding the thief only for it to be revealed it was someone who worked in the same department as the both of you. However, that wasn't why he was scowling. He just wished you'd talk about anything OTHER than Richard but, no, it turns out that bum was still on your mind, "Look, darlin', maybe we should think about something else besides good ol' Richie. Somethin' like...my next adventure."

You groan when you hear that, "Shit, I forgot! You're going to leave for Venezuela next week! Which means I'm handling the archives by myself again...and Richard just started reorganizing the documents too!"

Stop talking about him already.

"Actually, ya might not have to worry about the archives for a while there," Jesse began with a playful smile. Raising a curious eyebrow, you tilt your head a little, "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean...I've been thinking about it and I was wondering if ya might wanna go adventuring with me this trip," Your expression changes and he can see the hesitancy in your eyes, "NOW! NOW! It ain't gonna be as long as my other adventures and it might not be as dangerous but even if it was, I wouldn't let anything bad happen tah ya! S'just, you know, I like my adventures and I like you...so it'd just...it sure would make my day if ya at least considered it!"

You bit your lip anxiously and looked to the side. You were a historian but you were more of the "doing research on the computer in an air controlled environment" kind of historian, not the kind that went through death traps in nearly collapsing temples that had ancient curses on them. Like Jesse was.

However, the hopeful look in his sky blue eyes makes you feel guilty. You want to deny his offer but could you, in good conscience, dim that glow in his eyes. In fact, Jesse was COUNTING on that. You were too much of a sweetheart to let him down and Jesse knew that not even you were able to resist his charm.

"C'mon, it'll be like a vacation! You'll get tah see so many different waterfalls, tons o' great good, an' you'll get tah get a little up close and personal with history! Shoot, we can both have our names on the discovery plague an' everythin'! Wouldn't that be cool?"

"Jesse, I-"

"Both of you, in my office. Now." The headmaster of the University, and your boss, interrupted.

Even if you never saw eye to eye with him before, you were happy that he had intervened now and went with him. Jesse, however, was less than pleased. Still he followed along with you into the hallway, although there was a scent that hung in the air, one that smelled eerily familiar to him.

Yandere Femme Fatale who had been stalking you for a while, actually. Not long enough to know you were friends with her former flame but enough to memorize your schedule by heart and enough to fall deeply in love with you.

She had applied for the job of Archivist assistant, only to be enraged when she found out someone else was chosen. Oh well, she could just plan out their death but first things first, she'll have to kill the employer who had put a hit on you in the first place. The reason why this guy wanted you dead?

Apparently he couldn't take rejection well.

It sickened Yandere Femme Fatale, the way how entitled men think they could have whoever they wanted just because they inherited some pocket money from daddy. Don't worry, darling, she'll make sure you'll never have to worry about them now that she's there.

"Jesse, (Y/n). This is Scarlette Le Claire, she will be the new Archivist assistant."

Jesse froze up upon hearing her name. You, however, were entranced by the woman sitting in one of the seats facing the principals desk. She was applying lipstick to her plush lips when her dark eyes noticed you from her compact mirror. She shut it before standing up.

God, she was tall and even more gorgeous.

She extended a gloved hand in front of you, one you were nervous to take because of how expensive it looked, but you didn't want to be rude.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you." She greeted warmly, her voice sounding like honey to your ears and God, she smelled so nice.

Jesse, however, was far from entranced. He knew personally that wherever that woman went, someone was bound to get hurt. Misery and death followed her wherever she went and he wasn't gonna let any of that touch you. He also was uneasy about the look in her eyes, he recognized it from all the times she chose money over him. Greed. Insatiable greed that will never be enough for her.

He didn't like that she was looking at you like that.

"Now, (Y/n), I'm going to need you to step outside with me. Since you'll need to train Ms. Le Claire."

You're too hypnotized by the woman in front of you that you don't respond or react, at least, not until Jesse whistles to capture your attention. With a confused "huh?", you turn and look at him and he points to the door where your boss was waiting rather impatiently. You apologize and run out, taking one last look at the woman and giving her a sheepish smile. The moment you walk out the door, Jesse is glaring her down.

"Got' a lotta nerve coming here, Scarlette. If ya got a problem with me, we can settle it elsewhere."

Scarlette rolled her eyes and fluffied her hair, making sure it looked good for when you came back.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Jesse. Not everything is about you." She scoffs. Jesse narrows his eyes and walks up to her, "Then who is it about?"

Scarlette's eyes flicker towards the door, where she can see your silhouette talking and nodding. Then she looks back at Jesse, who didn't even have to look back to see who she was looking at.

"You ain't laying a hand on (Y/n), ya hear?"

"And what if they come to me willingly?"

"They won't." Jesse argued, not really believing in his own words. He saw how you looked at her, the way you looked at him the first night he met you.

Scarlette didn't respond, she simply smiled as her eyes flickered towards the door again, patiently waiting for when you'd come back in. After being informed that you'd have to train Scarlette, Jesse's offer to Venezuela immediately went to the back of your mind as you excitedly told her you'd show her around. She hooks her arm with yours, not even bothering to pay attention to Jesse anymore.

Like she said, this wasn't about him.

This was about making you hers.

[blooming-violets]

Shit I forgot to put this in my rb but I wanted to ask what do you think would happen to reader if Peter actually went through with it? I'd like to be a but optimistic and say she surely but slowly recovers from it all but I'm not so sure. How would Aunt May react to that? Becoming a widow then a grieving mother in the span of a few years? Sorry I don't mean to be pushy but like I said I loved the way you beautifully crafted this story from an ask

Trigger Warnings!!!!: it's all about suicide and talking about it and discussing it, it is not something everyone feels comfortable reading or conversing about so please don't continue if it is too upsetting for you, Peter Parker kills himself and I write about it, Gwen's death ptsd is explored and he sees her as a rotting corpse version of herself who talks to him before he dies, the grief of losing someone you love to suicide is also talked about, it's all depressing but if you love depressing angst shit then come on over and join in (not join in on the killing yourself part jfc I mean joining in on the talking about this story) READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION only you know what you are capable of handling when you read. I can't help you any further than explaining the warnings.

Previous posts where this is all discussed:

[first part] [second part] and I rewrite this drabble from two years ago to fit this story but you can read the original here if you feel like it (it ends with less death that this one).

One of my darker, more angsty headcanons is that Peter kills himself by throwing himself off the same clock tower Gwen died in. It takes a few years for it to get rebuilt back to it's former glory. Peter patiently waits those years until it's finally finished. Almost a quiet, stoic sort of patience. A little scary with how composed he is. Like not given any indication of his plans. He wears a beautifully composed mask until the day it happens because he is so sure in his plans and doesn't want a single person to sway him from them. He's stubborn and set in his ways and this is what he feels he needs to do. This headcanon doesn't exactly fit into the story I wrote as that version of Peter is much more unhinged in his actions, and I don't think clocktower Peter could ever let himself get into a relationship because he's too obsessed with Gwen still and knows he's going to die so he's not going to bring anyone else into that mess, but it's just a little random headcanon I always had so I thought I would share since this is suicide talking hour. Maybe I can rework it a bit to fit with this story better.

Let's say unhinged Peter (as I'm calling him now lol) does let the ghosts win. What happens to our Reader character would entirely depend on when in the relationship he went through with it. If she's too far gone and too far down the hole after Peter, then I sort of fear for her future. Unless she has someone really important in her life who would help her, I think she would just keep sinking until she ended up back on that ledge, except this time there's no Peter to catch her. And I personally don't think she has anyone that close to her, especially after mentioning that all her friends stopped texting her or asking her to hang out. They all kind of gave up on her so, when she's at her lowest, I really don't think anyone would be the wiser due to the isolation they both put themselves in.

I want to rewrite something I wrote two years ago that either wasn't that great and people didn't like or it just slipped under the radar (because it wasn't about an x reader or love or anything, it was just Peter's ptsd taking over and sometimes people don't give a shit about a fic if it isn't tagged with x reader). It fits really well in this new story to help show what could go on in Peter's head with how terribly Gwen still sticks with him and what exactly it is he's "seeing" that would push him to throwing himself off a building.

Cut to me pausing to frantically google if Peter Parker could survive a fall off a building or if his super powers make him strong enough to withstand it...

Okay maybe falling isn't the best plan of action but I really like (like isn't the right word but I'm going with it) that idea of him mimicking Gwen's death because he's so haunted by it. He would want to feel what she felt. He would want to go the same way. So for the sake of this story, he's can't withstand that fall.

“Leave me alone!” Peter shouted into the dark shadows of the clock tower. He sat huddled against the newly built glass wall that domed up over his head. The bright, white light of the moon hung in the sky above him and casted wavering shadows around him to mess with his vision. The turning of grinding gears below him haunted his memories of the night Gwen died. Eight years and she still haunted him every time he dared to fall asleep.

He couldn't take it anymore. His head was a mess. His thoughts were spinning.

He was just so tired.

He had fallen asleep here accidentally. Maybe if he went to the source of the problem, she would disappear. It was a stupid plan

It only made her stronger. This was where his ghost of her was most alive.

Maybe that's why he really showed up. He wanted to see her. He wanted to finally confront his demons. She was calling to him and he had to answer.

He had slipped a crushed up sleeping pill into his girlfriends water during dinner. He carried her bed, tucked her in, and kissed her soft and gently. She didn't need to see this. This wasn't for her. She needed to be free of him. He needed to let her go before it was too late. She wouldn't understand at first but, maybe, with time...

What had time ever done for him except make Gwen stronger?

He slipped an envelope onto the bedside table beside her. One for her. One for May. He wasn't sure if he would make it home this time. His mind could still change. He could still make it back before she woke up.

But they were.

Just in case.

He couldn't leave them with nothing.

She was here now. Ready to haunt him like usual. Ready to take over and ruin him. Night after night. Day after day. She was always there. Gwen never left. She walked beside him through it all.

Tonight, she was angry. Furious. This was where he had let her die. Of course, she would be the most powerful here.

He no longer had his girlfriend to help soften Gwen's blows. There was no one to intervene. Only him and Gwen. Stuck in a staring contest. Sizing each other up.

The sunken in face of his dead lover glared back at him from just below his edge of his of his perch, trembling from the sight under him. She was standing on top of a giant gear, watching him, judging him. A large smile grew across her pale, bluing lips. It was too wide. Too big for her face. Her teeth looked rotten and jagged inside of her mouth. A trickle of blood slowly trailed out of her nostril.

“What’s the matter, Peter?” She taunted. Her sickly voice swirled around his head like a swarm of mosquitos. “Did you miss me? Is that why you came here? To see me clearly again? Well, here I am. Look at me. Dead. Putrefied. All for you. Aren't I beautiful? This is what you've done to me.”

A loud sob shuddered through his chest and ripped out his throat. He brought up a hand to wipe away the snot flowing freely out his nose. This nightmare was too familiar. He knew this too well. He didn't feel like he was dreaming this time. He never did.

If it wasn't a dream then his mind was truly gone. Distinguishing between reality and fiction was something he no longer had control over.

This was as real to him as anything.

“Please, Gwen. Please,” he pleaded with her. “Go away. I can’t do this again. Please. You have to let me go."

She tutted her tongue in annoyance and shook her head with disbelief, “Oh, Peter. I have to let you go? Do you think I want to be here?” She became climbing up the gears and the scaffolding towards him. She looked more like himself as she climbed, enhanced and spider-like, taking the movements straight out his brain until she was perching on the ledge beside him. “Do you think this fun for me?”

Peter whimpered in response. His tears were blurring his vision but he was afraid to wipe them away. He was terrified of what might happen if he took his eyes off of her, like watching a snake in the grass, it's better if you can see it in your sights instead of letting it hide and able to strike.

Gwen walked with slow, purposeful steps towards him until she stood directly over him as he cowered backwards on all fours. Under the pale moonlight hanging above them, her skin turned yellow, painted with purpling hues and blacks, and rotting away around her cheekbones to show parts of red, bleeding muscle under the pulled back skin. Her, once vibrant, blonde hair now hung in patchy strands from her head. Most of her hair had fallen out leaving her balding and sickly. When she smiled, browning, broken teeth shone back at him, they hung lose in her jaw, rattling around when she spoke.

She was a walking, decaying corpse sent to haunt him every time he closed his eyes.

“Look at what you’ve done to me!” Her shrill voice echoed off the glass walls. She spun around to show him the back of her head. Her skull was caved in. Parts of brain matter clung to her hair and blood stained what was left of the blonde a deep red. She turned back to face him, leaning in close so she was mere inches away. He could smell the heavy scent of freshly dug dirt and wet grass clinging to her rotting finger nails like she had clawed her way straight out of the ground to find him.

She snarled, “You did this, Peter! This is your fault!”

Peter flinched and scrambled backwards to get away from her, “No! Please, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I didn't know...I didn't know...I thought I could catch you. I thought I could save you. I'm sorry. Please, Gwen. Please. I'm so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change the fact that I’m dead,” she smirked, eyes darkening, enjoying his torment. She sunk down to her hands and knees to crawl over him, pressing her skeletal body against him, until he was laying flat against the ground with no where else to go.

"Look at me," she whispered into his ear. “I was going to go Oxford. I was going to be a scientist. I was going to change the world. The only way I can change the world now is by letting the worms feast through my flesh until there is nothing left. Something tasty for the bugs. That's all I am now.”

Peter whimpered, turning his head away from her and flinching into himself.

He heard her sniffle like she was about to start crying. He hated hearing her cry.

"Don't you love me anymore, Peter?" She whined. "Don't you care about me? Why did you find someone else? Why did you forget me so quickly? I loved you so much and you left me for the worms. Only they kiss my skin now."

His heart sank and guilt flooded him. Slowly, he turned his head to face her, blinking up at her. For a moment, she looked just like he remembered. Beautiful. Whole. Healthy. Alive.

Peter gave a shuddered, shaky breath, whispering in awe, "Gwen."

She beamed down at him. There were no rotting teeth, no blood, her hair was full and luscious. She was glowing under golden light with happy tears in her eyes like his memory of her on top of the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Kiss me," she whispered against his lips. "Like you used to."

Peter's eyes slipped close. His heart ached.

"I can't," he mumbled back. "I love someone else now. I love her like I loved you. She..."

He needed to get back to her. She needed him. He needed her. He should have never left her tonight. He had to leave.

A wailing growl shot ice through his veins as Gwen let out a shriek of pain as if she had read his mind. She was back to her decaying corpse. The sight terrified him.

"You will not leave me! I won't let you! You're mine, Peter! Mine!"

Peter kicked up his feet to shove her off of him. He scrambled backwards away from the haunting vision.

"I can't, Gwen," he pleaded. "I can't be with you anymore."

He frantically shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, in an attempt to make her disappear. Usually by now, his girlfriend would hear him screaming. She'd be here to block Gwen from his sights. She'd be there to force her away until he was safe.

Tonight, there was no one but him.

"This isn't real," he muttered to himself. "She's not really here. She's dead. She's buried underground. Locked in a coffin. This isn't real. When I open my eyes, she'll be gone."

He peaked an eye open. A sense of relief washed over him. He was alone in the clock tower. There was no one here but him.

He could still go home. He could still make it back to her before she woke up and rid her bed side of those letters.

She would never have to know.

Peter took a deep breath, half way through exhaling it when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Gwen's decomposing face poked into his peripheral vision as she whispered menacingly in his ear, "Boo."

He screamed, jumping away, to the sound of her taunting laughter.

"I'm still here, Peter!" She cackled. "You can't get rid of me that easily! I am always going to be here. I am always going to follow you. I will never let you go." Her voice softened. Almost sweet. Sad. Longing. "Because I'm your path, Peter. I am always going to be your path. Follow me everywhere just like you promised. I want you to follow me. I need you..."

She reached out her hand for him to take. The skin had rotted away around the tips of her fingers leaving nothing by bones reaching for him.

This wasn't his Gwen. His Gwen was dead. She was buried in the ground surrounded by fresh flowers. The thing in front of him was nothing but a product of his own twisted mind. Birthed from his guilt and excruciating pain. A monster of his own creation.

"I can't," he choked out through his tears. "Someone else needs me now. I'm sorry. I love you. I will always love you. But I can't follow you. Not yet."

Anger flashed over her darkened, bloodshot eyes, “No! You promised you’d follow me anywhere. Follow me to the grave, you liar!”

Peter cringed at her harsh words. Tears blurring his vision. He had promised.

"Gwen, please," he begged. "Let me go."

Her face softened. He watched her grow back into old self again. Her rich purple dress. Lace tights. Knee high boots. Pale blue jacket. All highlighting her perfectly beautiful face. Large, bright green eyes without a blonde hair out of place. Always so put together. Always nothing less than perfection.

"You want me to go?" She asked, turning around slowly for her to take him in. There was no crack in the back of her skull. No blood.

His breath caught in his throat. He tried to reach out for her, to draw her closer against him, but she stepped away. Just out of his reach.

"You want me to go so I'll go." She whispered. "But you'll have to watch. Again and again and again. You'll have to listen to the sound of my skull cracking against the pavement. Hear my spine snap as your web jerks me upwards. Smell my blood pouring from my open, split open head." A trickle of red blood started to leak out her nose as her eyes closed. "Only you can make it all stop. Only you can make me go away. You know exactly how to do it, Peter. All you have to do is follow me. Just like you promised. Follow me and it will all end."

He blinked through his tears, taking a slow step towards her.

"Follow you," he muttered in a trance like state. "I'll follow you anywhere you go. You're my path. I'll write my love for you across the Brooklyn Bridge so everyone in New York can see it."

She smiled, soft and sweet, "Follow me. Don't leave me alone. Stay with me, Peter. Forever."

"Forever..."

Her arms out stretched to her sides and she leaned back, stepping off the ledge and sinking out of sight past the giant gears, hurdling straight towards her death.

"No!" He shouted.

Without thinking, without caring, Peter leapt after her. He had done this move so many times in his nightmares. He had obsessively walked through every single second of her death. Again and again just like she said. He knew it better than he knew himself.

He jumped on instinct. He leapt after her like he always did.

Keeping his promise. Following her down any path she took.

I know you asked how May and Reader would respond to such a thing afterwards but that's like one topic that's just a little too hard for me to write about. I know it's weird that I can talk about Peter throwing himself to his death and I can write about depression and suicidal ideation and self harm and ptsd and guilt and feelings of worthlessness but writing about someone like May (who I relate far too much to my own mother) finding her boy dead is just a hair too much for my heart to take haha. I was originally going to write a scene of his funeral but then I was like nah too much for even me. I can't watch May cry over her dead kid.

I will say that he would be buried next to his parents under the same gravestone which sits besides Ben's. It's a few rows down from Gwen so Peter can always be near her.

I don't even think I actually answered your original ask but I got carried away with Peter in the clock tower!

Also May puts matching flowers on both Peter's and Gwen's graves every time she visits. hahahaha i gotta stop writing fuck me

[radiowallet]

I Can

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Marcus Moreno Summary: Dieter and Marcus meet a second time. WC: 4K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Explicit sexual content. Exclusive M/M dynamics. Written in third-person POV, male protagonists, handjob, dry humping, dirty talk, praise kink, a smidge of edging. Mentions of food and drug use. Small angsty moments. AU Marcus Moreno (no wife, no Missy).

A/N: A Saturday night fic drop? Why not? I'm literally just a chaos demon at this point. Big thanks to @writer-wednesday for this prompt and for inspiring me to revisit my boys (and basically create a whole entire universe for them). This is a follow-up to my random little drabble You Can. I have wanted to revisit these boys for so long and when the inspiration struck, I couldn't help but run with it. Thank you to my beloved @jazzelsaur and @magpie-to-the-morning for listening and encouraging every unhinged thought inside my head. The very best of enablers.

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For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

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Dieter refuses to spend another meal in some stuffy, overpriced hoity-toity bullshit restaurant. Ever since his plane touched down at JFK he’s been dragged from meeting to table read to some supposed ‘life-changing’ meal and back again. Which, okay, there are worse things in life than a $100 dollar plate of food, but the pretentiousness of it all was starting to eat away at him. 

And the problem with the meals in particular is that even if they were somehow able to change the trajectory of his life, there were only so many tiny portions of shaved truffle caviar foie bullshit he could eat. 

No. Tonight he needs something else. Cheese, and bread, and beef. Something warm and comforting and covered in just a touch too much grease. Something he can purchase with a 20-dollar bill and bring back to his hotel room to eat while he watches something trashy on television, before downing an edible or two, and jerking himself off until he passed out. 

Marissa, thankfully, was a manager who knew when he had hit his limit. She waved him away with only two reminders of his call time for tomorrow and a promise to send a car. Dieter half mumbled his acknowledgment before slipping out of the lobby that housed one of the many studios he had met with that day, turning left and disappearing into the crowded streets of downtown Manhattan. 

This was Dieter’s favorite part of the city. Sure, it was too loud. Too busy. Too bright. But hiding in plain sight? That became easy. Even in his most outlandish of outfits he blended in, able to make the walk to his hotel in relative peace. 

He passes a myriad of carts on his way, each one smelling better than the last. He’s not sure what he’s craving, but Dieter is positive he’ll know it when he sees it. The sun has completely set by the time he turns the corner, the city lights guiding him towards the Park Hyatt just up ahead. And there, across the street, was a cart, neon signs for gyros and knish calling to him. 

The line was only one man deep by the time he jaywalked his way over, the street light shining down like a spotlight, catching the actor’s attention almost immediately. Dieter stops short at the sight of him, the breadth of his shoulders and cut of his jaw enough to drag up a memory that has his toes curling and his belly swooping low. The memory of a frustrated frown shifting into a soft smile, brown eyes wide beneath thick glasses, a kiss that should have lasted a lot longer than it did. 

He’s traded the tux from that night in for a black leather jacket and a pair of dark wash jeans, his head bent low, glasses slipping down the slope of his nose. Dieter smiles, stepping in line with a little more bounce in his step, his lips caught between his teeth, his appetite suddenly shifting. It seems he’s finally figured out exactly what it is that he’s been craving. 

— — —

Marcus doesn’t really know how he feels about New York. He thinks maybe in another life he would hate it; one where he had a family at home waiting for him, someone to share the day-to-day mundane things with after all the superhero crap was put to bed. He probably would have pulled every string in the book to bring along this hypothetical family, and that thought alone takes his mood from sour to rancid. As it was, home, New York, Paris. It hardly mattered. He just wanted to wrap up the last of this press tour shit and get back to the real work. 

There was only one more round of interviews tomorrow, most of them with the entire team. God willing, he could get away with a few quick answers and then nod along as the rest of the Heroics did the heavy lifting. 

He was supposed to be out with the team right now. Drinks and dinner that he had (sort of) politely begged off, content with something hot and cheap to eat in the solitude of his hotel room. The smells from the Greek-themed cart had been calling to him since he first walked out of the Hyatt earlier that day and he was intent on stuffing his face full before passing out to the sound of some trashy reality show playing in the background. 

He’s just starting to rationalize ordering one of everything, the Heroics Amex card already in the palm of his hand when the flick of a lighter and the smell of a cigarette catch his attention from behind. He wants to frown as the smoke invades his senses, the nasty habit once something that turned his stomach. But now all it does is drudge up a memory, almost 6 months old, but still there at the back of his mind; a dimpled grin and a searing kiss that left him aching. 

He breathes in deep, letting the smell fill his lungs, humming at the bitter taste that coats his tongue. If he closes his eyes, he swears can almost feel the warmth of a breath on his neck, a man much too free for Marcus to keep, but who he wanted to anyway. 

A loud cough yanks him back to reality, a gentle nudge urging him forward. 

“Your turn, Heroic.”

Normally the call out would make his skin crawl, a signal to the beginning of either a very uncomfortable fan encounter or a 20-minute lecture on the interference of government sanctioned vigilantes. But the tone of the man is neither fawning nor judgmental, instead a teasing warmth that almost feels familiar. Marcus turns, an apology on the tip of his tongue and….

“It’s you.”

Dieter Bravo smiles around the cigarette dangling from his lips, all teeth and dimples and Hollywood charm, just as Marcus remembers. 

“And it’s you.” 

— — —

They end up ordering enough for two small armies, both men overtipping the patient cart owner enough that he promptly starts closing up shop the second they step away with their food. Marcus shrugs, the bag held tight to his chest, compelled to offer an explanation that Dieter didn’t ask for. 

“Superhero metabolism.”  

“I get it,” Dieter hums, wanting to put the other man at ease. It’s clear he’s wound just a bit too tight, the pressure of whatever responsibilities he carries with him not so much weighing him down as they do hold him up. Dieter thinks, assumes, the joy of being a hero left Marcus Moreno far too long ago, and he wonders if he could help him save just a tiny piece of it. Or at the very least get the man to smile once before they part ways again.

“I’m up for this gladiator thing. I have a feeling once I get back to L.A. it’s going to be all protein shakes and boiled chicken and green-colored juice. Probably best to indulge while I have the chance.”

Marcus frowns, shaking his head. “That’s not right. Starving yourself to hit some sort of stupid unattainable body image that was set by others.”

“Yeah,” Dieter hums, poking Marcus in one of his firm shoulders. “Can’t imagine what that’s like.”

The other man blushes and shakes his head. “Mine’s mostly genetics. Which…hearing out loud just makes me sound like an ass.”

“Mmm, I actually think your ass could use a bit of work,” Dieter clicks his tongue, eyes drifting around to Marcus’s backside. 

His blush only darkens, and Dieter can’t help but delight in the reaction. “I’ll be okay, Heroic. All par for the course! Besides, it’s a 6-month shoot in Morocco. It’s been ages since I’ve been back there.” 

“Oh, well…if you need help…I mean before you leave. Shit. I’m pretty handy in the gym, I mean,” he stammers out, hands clinging tighter to the greasy brown bag in his hands.

“Do superheroes make house calls?”

Marcus grinds his jaw to the left, his eyes shifting as far from Dieter’s as they can, but the blush remains.  “If it’s something important.”

— — —

They’re staying in the same hotel. It shouldn’t surprise Marcus. Honestly, nothing should at this point, serendipitous coincidence managing to bring the two men together again despite all odds. They cross the street side by side, the doorman quick to open the door with a nod and a wave. Their steps echo through a seemingly empty lobby, most of the hotel guests having stepped out, their nights just getting started. 

Dieter moves easily, the hand holding his food swinging back and forth in time with his steps. His jaws works effortlessly at the piece of gum he traded with the cigarette he had been puffing at, the tip of it crushed into the side of the hotel perfectly in time with their entrance. Marcus watches from the corner of his eye, admiring the way the other man moves, as if he’s dancing, each movement as fluid as the last. 

The actor chatters beside him, an endless barrage of words that would be easy to write off as nonsense but despite that, Marcus finds himself listening with rapt attention. The actor talks about his meetings tomorrow, a chemistry read he hasn’t quite prepared for, an interview with Variety magazine scheduled directly after. Then he talks about the painting he had started before he left L.A. How he hopes the inspiration is still with him when he gets home. 

By the time they get on the elevator, their shoulders brushing in the tight space, Marcus knows the type of bike Dieter owns (a 10-speed he likes to ride down to the pier), how he likes his toast (just shy of burnt, butter and jelly), and his plans for the night (food, edible, jerking off). 

Marcus had even been caught up in the moment briefly, his own surprise at seeing the other man loosening his tongue just as it had all those months ago. He had stammered and stuttered in a way that he hadn’t since high school. He can’t seem to decide if he should be embarrassed or not, so he settles for quiet instead, only muttering his floor number once the elevator doors slide shut. 

Dieter eyes him over his shoulder, the flecks of grey in the scruff of his jaw illuminated in the low light and mirrored walls. He leans closer, just enough to nudge Marcus’s shoulder, his smile slipping into something more tentative, mint and menthol and something sweet hypnotizing the heroic. He can’t help but match the other man’s movement, leaning in and licking his lips, trying to capture the taste on his tongue. Dieter doesn’t miss it, brown eyes flickering to Marcus’s lips and back again. 

“Would you like some company?” 

— — —

They ultimately decide to go to Dieter’s room, a joke about seeing the Penthouse tilting the actor’s grin to just this side of wolfish. Marcus is instantly drawn to windows, stretching from floor to ceiling, the whole city lit up, a glaring shine just beyond the glass. 

“It seems brighter from up here.” 

“The lights are so bright but they blind me,” Dieter sings beneath his breath, spreading out the food with careful dedication. 

Marcus smiles at the sound of his voice, marveling at the sudden domestic turn his night has taken before placing his attention back on the skyline. Dieter moves around the couch to join him, carrying that same intoxicating smell with him. 

“Haven’t you seen it from rooftops?”

Marcus shakes his head, eyes still glued to the sparkling spectacle in front of him. “The world looks too dark from that angle.” 

Dark. Or Ugly. Honest. Yeah, Marcus can see everything from the rooftops, but none of it glittered. Not like this. Not like Dieter Bravo. 

The tip of a finger, softer than he expected, touches his chin, the pressure light but insistent, impossible to ignore. He turns to find Dieter watching him, brown eyes reflecting the city stars back at Marcus, and he fights the urge to blink and miss what comes next. They move in together, almost close enough but not, and Dieter laughs, a soft chuckle that rumbles in his chest. 

It reminds Marcus of that first kiss, so very long ago, down a dark alleyway, both of them pretending, for just a moment. He takes in a breath, a quick pull of air that steadies his nerves, before finally, finally, closing the last of the distance between them. 

The kiss is soft at first, a brush of lips and a scrape of stubble. It’s faint, the sweetest shade of something new between the press of their lips, the taste of mint and menthol permeating his senses. Marcus can’t help but take one more, letting his lips linger on Dieter’s, his hands fitting perfectly along the dip of the other man’s hips. 

It’s Dieter who deepens it, one palm sliding along the curve of Marcus’s cheek, the other grabbing where his leather jacket hangs open, fingers clenched into the fabric and yanking him closer. It’s the slip of a tongue between his lips that breaks him, a moan parting Marcus’s lips, the sound only encouraging Dieter to continue. 

The hand on his hips pushes him back gently, one, two, three steps before they stop. Marcus pulls away to catch his breath but Dieter keeps him close, soothing the pad of his thumb across the flush of his skin. 

“I missed you, baby.”

He wants to laugh, to point out it was just one kiss, and how? How could he miss him when he barely even knows him? But the endearment has him dizzy, the roof of his mouth tacky with desire, and all he can do is nod because yes. Of course, Marcus missed him too. What else was there to do but miss him? 

He swoops in for another kiss, this time meeting Dieter’s tongue with his own, tasting him full on and groaning into the feeling. The noise seems to startle something awake in the other man, the grip on his cheek growing tight, his own strangled whine rising up the column of his throat. 

When the kiss breaks, Dieter leans in, the scratch of his mustache rough where he hums his request in Marcus’s ear. “Can I take you to bed?”

“It’s been a while,” he can’t help but blurt out, pulling back to watch Dieter’s face carefully, preparing himself for the laughter and the teasing. “Almost 2 years.”

Still, Dieter doesn’t say anything, and Marcus can’t help but explain himself just a little bit more. “Most people can’t handle it.” 

Marcus hates to say it. Hates the way it sounds and feels and tastes, the words bitter and biting on his own ears. The harsh, unrelenting truth that what he is will always be overwhelming for those that dare to love him. That the painful responsibilities that were forced upon by the realities of his genetics will always be the barrier around his heart. Most days it was easy enough to ignore, and in the time since had last felt another’s touch, Marcus had found a way to cope, where loneliness was just another weight he would bear in order to do what was right.  

Dieter nods, eyes wide and frown small, an equal mix of understanding and pity marked across his features, as if to say ‘yeah, people can be assholes.’ 

And then he actually says it. “Assholes.” 

There’s another kiss and then another, their bodies moving slowly back towards the couch. Dieter's fingers are skilled, pushing and pulling, Marcus’s leather coat hitting the ground seconds before his own. Those same fingers find their way beneath his shirt, mapping the planes of his stomach, the quiver of muscle chasing Dieter’s touch. 

Marcus can only cling to the other man, refusing to part from their kiss for more than a second, breath traded back and forth, the only oxygen he ever needed between Dieter’s lips. His touch is insistent, smoothing at his heated skin, fingers digging into the flesh, the almost bite of his nails leaving Marcus gasping high and bright into their kiss. His glasses are pulled off somewhere in the fray, finding a home on the floor behind them. 

“The …t-the bed?”

“Figured I’d take it easy on you,” Dieter grins in time with Marcus’s knees bending around the couch cushions.

They fall down together, Dieter immediately crowding into Marcus, his large hand palming where he strains beneath his jeans while he takes care to kiss each and every freckle scattered across Marcus’s. His hips buck immediately, even the gentle touch enough to send him lurching. Dieter is quick to soothe him, teeth nipping at his ear as he coos sweetly, the press of his hand only growing more insistent.

“Patience, baby. We have time.”

There it is again. That little endearment. Sweet and small, and so so much that Marcus can only moan, head falling into the crook of Dieter’s neck. Somewhere above him there is a chuckle, the sound vibrating from one man to the other, and Marcus can only hold on tighter as Dieter tugs at the zipper of his jeans. His breath hitches as the sound of it echoes inside his head, and he feels Dieter pause, only the brush of his thumb on the head of his leaking cock ground them to this moment. 

Later, Dieter will confess, sweat cooling on Marcus’s temple, the actor's lips kissing the slick of it away, that he was watching him carefully at that moment. Desperate to see him fall apart, anxious to know if he needed to pull back. It’s then that they promise to say it. Always say it. Exactly what they need and what they want. 

Secrets have never done either man any good. 

Marcus leans into the light touch, awkward and needy, lips fusing to the curve of Dieter’s neck. There’s the musk of his cologne, something earthy and real clinging to his senses, mixing with the smell of smoke that always seems to burn around the other man’s edges. Marcus is ravenous for him, marking him with a bruising kiss, the steady chant of mine, mine, I wish he was mine thumping inside his chest. 

Dieter doesn’t falter, pulling Marcus’s aching length from the confines of his jeans, a loose grip around the base as he continues to stroke the tip softly, gathering the bead of precum with the pad of his thumb. It’s more intimate than he expected, reputations always proceeding those in the limelight. Marcus should have known better, the camera always giving away more falsehoods than beautiful truths. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Dieter teases, not an ounce of cruelty in the words. Another kiss is gifted to Marcus’s neck, the drag of Dieter’s tongue follows, his own groan pouring out of him. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. I promise.”

The effect of his words is maddening, and Marcus takes care to muffle his whine into Dieter’s neck, teeth and tongue still working along the salt of his skin. The actor is only encouraged by this, continuing to purr little drops of filthy encouragement into his ear as he starts to stroke Marcus from base to tip. 

“Been too long since someone made you feel this good,” he hums, twisting his wrist lightly each time he strokes up the length of Marcus’s cock, the velvet heat of his skin catching on the other man’s palm. The friction is almost too much, a staggering sort of gasp breaking past his lips as Dieter’s voice continues to coach him through each and every stroke of his hand. 

“You look so good like this, baby. So good. You can fuck my hand if you want. Go on, use your hips.” 

The prompt is all Marcus needs, his hips canting up to meet Dieter’s touch. His fingers dig in hard, one hand finding purchase on Dieter’s forearm, the other wrapped around the curve of his shoulder. He anchors himself to the other man, fucking up into his fist faster and faster and faster still. 

“Feel good? Hmm?” Dieter asks, the hook of his nose pressed into Marcus’s temple, lips teasing the swell of his cheek. “Fucking someone else’s hand instead of your own?” 

Marcus stutters out a ‘yes’ the word lost between his cries of pleasure. Dieter continues to indulge in the noises, each one helping to shift the weight of his touch, the grip around Marcus’s cock soft then hard, the pressure building faster than he can take in breaths. He tilts his head, eyes searching frantically, a desperate plea tumbling from his lips and hanging thick in the air between them.

“Kiss me.”

And Dieter does, lips molding to Marcus’s, the tip of his tongue tracing the seam until finally, he parts beneath, another moan for him to swallow. All the while, his pace is consistent, up and down, faster then slower then faster again. It’s indulgent, the way Dieter touches him, relishing in each pulse, every sound, and Marcus loses track of how long it’s really been. The pleasure is blinding, keeping him tethered to the edge of the cliff, release blissfully out of reach.

“Bet you look so pretty, all cock dumb, hmm? I’d love to see that,” Dieter teases and Marcus agrees, can only agree, something ragged taking over his sensibilities. 

He continues to move with the other man, rising up into the open air, hips awkwardly meeting each and every caress of his hand. Dieter moves with the same freedom he had in the hotel lobby, his own hips grinding up and down, the length of his cock hard and pulsating where it presses into Marcus’s side. Their kisses only grow more wild, just a sloppy press of lips, off-centered and well-intentioned, as they both work closer and closer to the crest of arousal. 

Dieter remains focused, his own pleasure secondary to that of the Heroic’s. The kiss breaks just in time for something white hot to settle at the base of Marcus’s spine, everything grows tight and bright and so so sweet. Teeth scrape along his jaw, the tip of a tongue soothing the same path, Dieter’s words coaxing him up to the top of the hill. 

“You’re close, baby. So close. Go on, you can let go. I’m right here.”

It’s all Marcus needs, the last of his strength giving out as everything burns, thick ropes of white cum spilling out of him. Dieter hums, using his seed to smooth out his strokes, and continues to whisper little bits of praise into Marcus’s ear.

“I know. I know, baby. You’re doing so good. Tell me if it’s too much.”

It is. It is too much, the way Dieter keeps stroking his cock, half hard and still dribbling drops of cum around the curl of his fist. But Marcus refuses to stop him, leaning into the painful overstimulation until the tips of his fingers go numb, his moans breaking out into sobs, tears tracking down his cheeks to mix with his sweat. Dieter decides for them both then, his hand finally slowing, giving Marcus a chance to adjust to the light touch before pulling away for good, the palm of his hand sliding a sticky trail up his cheek.

It should feel filthy, Marcus’s own cum pressed into his skin while Dieter grinds his cum soaked pants into the dip of his hips. But even now, Marcus can feel his cock twitch in interest, the moment so very decadent and dirty and leaving him hungry for more. Dieter grins, licking his lips, clearly agreeing with whatever look that is crossing Marcus’s features, swooping in for one more kiss, this one there and gone, a fleeting breath of him that leaves him whining. 

But Dieter doesn’t go far, his hand smoothing up to push back an errant curl, brown eyes impossibly deep, and he takes his time to kiss away each and every tear. When he pulls away, it’s only to whisper a quiet promise. “I can.”

Marcus tilts his head, his confusion unspoken, the haze of his orgasm still gripping tight to his senses. Dieter takes it in stride, his smile growing, confident and cocky with how dumb he’s rendered the heroic. 

“I can handle it,” he clarifies, dragging his hand down to rest his thumb where Marcus’s lips part, the faintest taste of himself waiting there. “Can you?”

And all Marcus can do is nod. Because. Yes. Of course. Of course, he can. What other answer is there? 

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Pretend Alleyways Masterlist II Main Masterlist

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Dedications:

To my dearest, my wonderful enablers @jazzelsaur and @magpie-to-the-morning who have listened to me talk about these boys ALL. WEEK. Literally, every random thought I had about Dieter and Marcus, together or separate, was blasted into their DM's. I have become a woman possessed. The best friends a girl could ask for in these trying fandom times. Thank you both, for loving me and my boys.