#like the seats were moving around. they were spraying water at us. for a fucking military recruitment advert. before Saw X

[primonizuto]

just got one of the most outright racist royal marines recruitment adverts before a youtube video and it literally turned my stomach

[the-californicationist]

he opens the mail

Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen. The only cure? Your pussy, apparently.

Warning: sex pollen tropes, extremely dubious consent, attempt at satire?, angry john price

“We’re never going to make this deadline. Laswell’s gonna kill me,” you complained, burying your head in the pile of envelopes and packages strewn over your desk. 

“Did this to yourself, lass. Shoulda been keepin’ up with intel duty. Wee bit at a time, ‘s what I say,” Soap patted you on the shoulder, feigning pity. 

You spent hours combing through the documents, and by the time everyone had gone to bed, your fingers were covered in paper cuts, and your vision was blurry from squinting at the poorly scrawled Cyrillic words. 

You thought you were alone, and as you stood up to stretch and refill your coffee mug, Captain Price opened up the office door, scaring you half to death. 

“Oh, hey Corporal,” he smiled and then furrowed his brow, “What are you still doing here?”

You sighed, pointing to the piles of documents,

“Laswell’s intel backlog. I’m the only one with a Level 3 linguistics cert for Russian, so here I am. Gonna be an all-nighter.”

He closed the door and sat down across from your seat, digging into the pile, 

“I’m Level 3. Let’s finish it.”

“Captain, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got more important things…”

Price shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it on the chair back,

“Nah, tha’s alright, love. I’ll help ya. Get us a tea, yeah?”

You knew how he took his tea, and you hated that you did. Secretly, you were obsessed with him. He was always around, smelling like balsam wood and tobacco, looking like a gladiator, huge and capable in the most masculine way. It was hard to concentrate when he was nearby. Now that he had offered to help, you had to grin and bear it. 

You worked together for a while, chatting, even laughing. It was nice. You had so much in common, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself much more at ease. Finally, three packages remained. You opened the first one and found little more than phone records for a local library. Unhelpful to say the least. Price opened a water bill, and he recognized the address of a recent Konni base location. Any intel at this point felt like a celebration. Then, the final box. 

“Go on then. Show us the ending,” he smiled, handing it to you. 

“Couldn’t take the joy of ripping up the last letter, Captain. Be my guest,” you smiled. 

He chuckled, tearing into the envelope. In a flash, bright pink powder sprayed him directly in the eyes, and he writhed in pain, pinching them shut, his whole body going stiff. 

“Fuck me!” He shouted. 

“Hang on,” you ran over to the sink in the kitchenette, “Here’s some water. Get that shit out of your eyes.”

“Don’t,” he moved away from you like you were on fire, “Don’t touch me. Might be contagious.”

Your chest was rising and falling with your labored breathing, and you were immediately worried. You reached for your phone and called Laswell.

“Laswell, Price got anthraxed by one of the intel letters. What do you want us to do?”

She gasped, 

“What? Shit. I’m on my way.”

She hung up on you. You watched Price slowly try to open his eyes. They were stained hot pink from the powder. 

“You alright?” You asked him. 

“Yeah, love,” he sighed, “Doesn’t hurt anymore. Feeling strange though. Laswell said she’s coming?”

You nodded,

“Yeah, just in case.”

He nodded, running his hand along the inside of his collar. The captain was sweaty and a little pale. 

“Captain, are you okay?”

“Mmm, no,” he shook his head, “Something’s not right, love.”

He stood and went to the sink, washing as much of the powder off as he could. You moved away from him and stationed yourself across the room, praying for Laswell to hurry. 

Price was in a bad way. He took off his shirt, and he was still dripping with beads of sweat. You tried not to stare, but his temperature wasn’t the only thing heating up. His huge cock was making a prominent tent in his pants, but he was in too much pain to bother hiding it. You felt yourself blushing, and you willed yourself to pull it together. 

“…fuckin’ hell,” his hand went to his crotch to squeeze his length, trying to find some relief, “Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay,” you said politely, trying to breathe normally, but feeling the slick rush melt between your legs. 

“It’s makin’ me…feel…bloody hell. I can’t hold it off. Can…can you…? No! No, what the fuck am I sayin’? No,” he shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face, hot and very bothered. 

You inched closer to him,

“If I haven’t been affected yet, I’m sure it’s okay. How should I help you?”

“No! No, stay back. I’m not…I can’t think straight. My mind’s got one thing on it,” he shoved his hands beyond his zipper and began to jerk himself off, his dick making lurid noises with his hand. 

You hated seeing him so helpless. You moved to his side,

“Cap, it’s okay. Let me help you.”

His hand was around your throat in milliseconds. Price shoved you against the wall and began to kiss your mouth, furiously laving his tongue against yours. 

“No, no, no,” he whispered through his kisses, not bothering to pull away as he spoke his lamentations. 

You made the mistake of putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He moaned, trembling beneath your touch,

“Ahh, careful.”

“Sorry,” you pulled your hands away, still trapped in his firm grip around your neck, “did I hurt you?”

“No, doesn’t hurt.”

He said it in a way that darkly implied your touch was igniting a different kind of fire. You put your hands back where they were, and his eyes shot open, piercing through yours with a lustful rage. Unexpectedly, he ripped off your shirt and lay you down on the black leather couch in the corner of the office. He crushed you with his weight, kissing you deeply. 

Then, your phone rang. He didn’t allow you to pause, so it went to voicemail. It rang again. You were getting just as hot as he was, and you weren’t that interested in who was looking for you in the middle of the night. Until, however, the door to the office burst wide open and Laswell and Gaz burst through it. 

Price snarled. You’d never heard a man make that noise before. Laswell put her hands on her hips while Gaz tried to shield his face in shock. Laswell rubbed her forehead, frustrated,

“Are his eyes pink, Corporal?”

You escaped his jaws for a moment, 

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s a sex drug. Forces the user to fornicate as it is only passed through the body in seminal fluid, dissolving in the heat of another person’s body. Are you volunteering here? What happened?”

Her tone was so matter of fact, it was a little humorous, if Price’s length wasn’t rutting against you in earnest, you might've laughed. You tried to explain as much as he would allow,

“Got too close… just… happened. How…” you moaned as Price pulled down the strap of your bra and helped himself to your nipple, “How did you know?”

She sighed, typing something into her datapad,

“Checked the incident log from this afternoon. Four more cases of this have popped up in intel collections. Gonna have to screen for it next time.”

She turned to walk out of the office with Gaz, and you called after her,

“Hey, wait! How long does it - oh, fuck… how long does it last?”

Laswell had the audacity to smirk at you, raising her eyebrows and cutting her eyes at Price’s swollen cock, lolling out of his pants, scraping itself against you. 

“Eight hours. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, Corporal. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”

Part 2

[soap-ify]

Hi!! I adore your writing and was wondering if you could do something with Simon using the shower head on reader??? Or fingering in the shower?

Totally understand if you aren’t comfortable with this and I hope you have an amazing day😘

ANON I WAS LITERALLY THINKING ABOUT THAT A FEW DAYS BEFORE YOU SENT THIS ASK!! i love your brain. alsp i decided to combine both >:3

cw — nsfw, fingering, usage of shower head.

“stop squirmin’ like that, love.”

simon’s callused hand held you tight by the side of your hip while you were seated in between his legs inside the bathtub, his other hand holding the turned on shower head, the pressure of the water directly hitting your clit that was all swollen and tingly at this point, sensitive due to the water that kept teasing it.

your boyfriend had decided to try something new today — that new being both of you taking a seemingly normal bath together until he grabbed the shower head and gave you that subtle grin, the twinkle in his brown eyes having said everything you needed to know.

“si, s’too sensitive…” your hands tightly held onto the edges of the tub, your cheeks and ears all warm while your hips kept writhing and bucking, trying to both pull away and push against the pressure of the water.

“feels good, right?” he gruffly whispered into your ear, earning a nod from you, your head falling back onto his shoulder, your back flush against his firm chest. the hand on your hip slowly moved on between your legs, the contact with the water causing it to spray around, his finger slowly beginning to prod your poor, empty hole.

“please…” you whimpered needily, the water from the shower head continuing to stimulate your clit while you tried to push forward against his hand.

“please what?”

“want your fingers in me, si…”

and how could he deny such an adorable request of yours?

he slowly eased his finger inside your tight cunt, already so wet and needy, sucking him in. it was easy to push his other finger too, soon moving his thick callused fingers inside your cunt, gently thrusting them while holding the shower head near your clit.

he found your sweet spongy spots effortlessly, rubbing against them, curling his fingers in while you let out sweet whines and gasps, thighs trembling profusely.

you could feel his girthy cock pressed against your lower back, twitching with need. it only pushed you closer to your edge, knots in your lower stomach tightening up as your breathing got shallower, eyes on the brink of fluttering shut.

barely able to speak, your orgasm hit you hard with one more thrust, your walls tightly clenching around him while you moaned, body convulsing in pleasure, your slick coating his fingers.

“fuck— so perfect, all f’me.” he groaned sweetly into your ear, lips pressing soft kisses on the side of your head, nuzzling into your damp hair.

he pulled his fingers out of your soaking cunt with ease, though didn’t move the showerhead from your puffy clit yet, overstimulating the poor thing.

“a-ah, si! stop!” you whined and felt tingles running through her body.

“one more f’me, please?” he pressed some more kisses on your shoulder, his hand moving to rub your inner thigh gently, eager to coax another orgasm out of you.

he really wasn’t going to let you out of the bathroom anytime soon.

[cyberl33ch]

Spring Fling💋

summary: Your roommate of a couple months decides to ask you out...kind of? What could transpire?

tw: smut MDNI, hopeless romance, drunk/tipsy sex, Abby is g!p, fingering & head.

pairing: G!P Abby x Inexperienced!Florist!Reader

Moving to Seattle wasn’t really the plan but getting out of your small town was exactly what you needed. Don’t get me wrong small towns are cute and everything's laid out for you but seeing the same old faces and going to the same old places gets tiring. And you can’t like getting away from the drama that your ex had caused was what you longed for. But having a hot roommate…you definitely did not plan for it.

Her name was Abby. She was very muscular with sort of a dusty blonde/brunette thing going on obviously the female definition of a dilf. She would go to the gym every morning which would leave you time to have the house to yourself in order to get ready for whichever job you were working. She also happened to pass by every time she was leaving the gym.

Sometimes she would come by and speak just to take a look at the fresh flowers that came in ever so often. You could obviously tell she had a green thumb the way she would cater to the ones in the apartment. Overall she was cool but that all changed randomly when she invited you out, even though you were quite busy with whatever shifts you managed to pick up.

The bell on the front shop door rings announcing someone entering. “Welcome to Bloomscape, what can I help you with?” You say putting down the spray bottle after watering the flowers behind the counter. You turn around to meet none other than Abby. Just your luck. “Oh hey Abby, the new peonies are out front if you’re-” “Would you like to go out with me?” She says, you realize her face is slightly red but you brush it off assuming she had an intense workout today. “Sorry with a couple friends not like…that.” She explains making you nod your head in understanding. Not going to lie that hurt a little bit. Like a slow jab to your heart. “Oh yeah sure…what time?” You question “Around 8pm you should be off by then right?” She asks. You nod your head and after working out the details she leaves rather quickly (and quite flushed if I do say so myself) not even looking at the peonies out front. Weird.

After closing up shop and making your way back to the apartment you walk in to realize she’s already invited her friends over to pregame. Assuming that’s what it was anyway you peek in the living room and say hello. “Hello!” You say as you wave at all 3 of them in the living room. “Oh shit- Guys this is the friend I invited out with us!” She says, gesturing for them to introduce themselves to you. “Hello, I’m Dina, these two shithead's friends.” One says pushing Abby's shoulder. “I’m Ellie.” Another quite attractive one says waving back to you shyly (if i do say so myself) “I’ll go get ready, nice to meet you guys!” You walk to your room and before you can even shut the door you hear Ellie saying that you’re “Smoking hot.” Smiling ear to ear you close the door before you can hear any further and start to get ready.

You walk out of your room and walk into the kitchen going in the fridge to search for a beer. When you feel a hand on your waist you jolt up meeting Abby. “Hey calm down darlin’.” She almost laughs out and hands you a beer knowing you’re searching for one. You take the beer smiling slightly, thanking her and closing the fridge. After an hour of pregaming you they decide it’s time to go to the bar. “Everybody set to go?” Abby questions looking at everyone grabbing her keys.

Hour 2 in the bar Dina and Ellie are the only ones looking groggy and soggy but you and Abby are having the time of your lives. You never knew that you and Abby had so much music taste in common. As the night started to grow older and older they started to play slower, more romantic music. You take your seat at the bar sipping your drink by Dina and Ellie who are both by now practically eye fucking each other.

You were about to go outside for a smoke when your thought was interrupted by a light tap on your shoulder. “Hey, do you mind dancing with me?” Abby asks with her face growing more red by the second. “Uh yeah of course” You smile. As soon as you two hit the middle of the floor she immediately puts her hands on your waist pulling you closer to her. You look up at her with big doe eyes and that’s when you start to feel the liquor finally hit you because she looks good enough to eat at this moment. She nuzzles your neck as your bodies practically become one. “I need you.” She whispers in your ear making you gasp which gives her enough time to slip her tongue into your mouth and take you in a devastating kiss.

As she pulls back from your lips you shoot her a confused look. “I thought you-” She shushes you putting her finger up to your lips. “Take a cab with me.” Abby demands taking your hand interlocking your fingers with hers as she makes her way through the sea of people on the dance floor. She gets up to the bar giving Ellie enough money to get a cab and pay for the drinks. As she reaches the outside she pauses for a moment taking in the cool spring breeze compared to the hot atmosphere of the bar. You’ve never really taken a moment to really soak in Abby’s features. Her hair which she rarely let down blowing with the wind. And oh gosh- her nose looks like you could ride that for days at a time.

You get so taken up in your thoughts you didn’t realize she was staring right back at you. “Can I have my face back?” She jokes you lightly jabbing her shoulder. “Jeez, I’m just joking…that hurt a bit.” Abby says pouting and rubbing her shoulder softly. “Aw, is the baby hurt?” You say mocking her pouting and rubbing your shoulder. “Yeah yeah whatever lets start walking weirdo.” She says rolling her eyes rather sassily.

Weirdo. Weirdo? WEIRDO?? “You want to talk about weird? Let’s talk about how you always treat me like a little sister and then randomly kiss me.” You sass back at her, narrowing your eyes as you two begin your journey back to the apartment. “I’ll do it again.” Abby treats this as if were a threat to your safety as she can’t seem to choose between looking at your lips or your eyes. “Whatever sass-factor!” You roll your eyes at her crossing your arms.

Back at the apartment you assume you two are just going to go your separate ways again like this never happened.“So…we just go our separate ways?” You mumble out just above a whisper as your vision starts to blur from tearing up. “What if we didn’t?” Abby says taking a step closer to you. “What if?” You accept the challenge, taking another step towards her. Abby pulls you closer by your waist and takes off your jacket for you, discarding it on the sofa. Followed by taking off her own and dropping it right by her feet. “What if?” She quirks an eyebrow staring straight at your glossy lips. After that she just couldn’t play this little game you were playing with her anymore as she takes you in another breathtaking kiss and lifts you up like you’re nothing.

You straddling her waist as she sets you down on the bed, her kneeling in front of you making full eye contact as she takes off your shoes for you. She looks up at you resting her hands on your thighs. “Do I have your consent?” Abby asks, peering into your eyes. God's consent is sexy. “Yes.” You nod. Abby follows this with sliding down your underwear and pinning you to the mattress, her on top of you. She then takes two fingers and taps on your lips asking demanding for entrance. “Suck.” She orders as you open your mouth and swirl your tongue around her digits.

“Good girl” She praises. She then takes them out of your mouth leaving a string of saliva as she lifts up your dress and starts to coat her fingers in your arousal and insert them up until her knuckles. The length of her fingers makes you immediately grab her wrist moaning. “Fuck! Abby…” You pant out as she starts to pick up the pace, shouting her name like it’s a mantra. “Thaaat’s it baby take it.” She affirms as the knot in your stomach comes undone faster and faster. “Gonna cum…” You mumble out making her grab your chin realizing she wants to see your reaction as you eat up the pleasure she was dishing out.

As you feel your release coating her fingers and your surroundings becoming more and more fuzzy by the second. You sit up seeing her licking her fingers clean making full eye contact with you. By the time her fingers are practically wrinkly from the hydration they were getting she turns you around and starts unlacing your dress. Grazing her fingertips lightly on the skin of your back. “Your skin is so soft…” Abby says just above a whisper.

She starts kissing you and leaving little love bites and marks that’ll surely bruise in the morning. You hear her start to strip behind you and just as she’s taking off her boxers you get a good glimpse of what’s to come. And you start to turn around and make full contact with her long, thick, blushed precum dripping shaft. More so gawking at it because she definitely noticed while taking off her shirt.

“You wanna touch it?” She asks, reaching out to grab your hand, as she guides your hand onto the base of it. “Don’t be scared mama.” Abby chuckles, still guiding your hand to slowly stroke it making her grunt. As she slowly softens her grip and lets you take control, throwing her head back in pleasure grunting loudly. She grabs your chin absentmindedly removing your hand and picking up the pace as her eyes sear into your soul as she motions for you to open your mouth.

Followed by multiple grunts and curses she finally releases ropes of herself onto your tongue. As you close your mouth and swallow the liquid. “Hands and knees” Abby demands with low lidded eyes. You follow her instructions in a daze as she grabs a hold on your hips, forcing you to arch your back. Abby cautiously slides the tip in after realizing how tight you were, grunting in pleasure as a response. “Fuuuck” She mumbles out her eyes closed as you squeeze around her length. As she takes her time inch by inch she eventually bottoms out. This feels good of course but she can hear you whimper as you taste the saltiness of your tears.

Abby slowly starts to pick up a steady pace as you start to reach back trying to slow her down as the tears come down more frequently. “Nuh uh baby you can take it” She says in between grunts swatting your hand away as you grip the sheets. As her pace quickens she pulls you up by your shoulder, taking that hand and wrapping it around your throat. She then takes her other hand from your hip and starts rubbing your sensitive clit.

Your eyes roll back in your head as she tops that off by kissing your neck, knowing by the way you were growing louder she knew you were close to your orgasm. Abby reaches an unimaginable pace and that’s when you feel it hit you like a tsunami. As you feel her warm seed fill you up and mix with yours you finally come down from the drunken, fuzzy high you two were in. You feel her pull out and the mix of you guys’ climax slide down your legs.

After you two showered together and put on pajamas you both lie in the bed, her spooning you. You’ve dozed off a while ago as she just admires your beauty in the moonlit room. Brushing the hair out of your face, she pecks your temple and dozes off along with you.

my masterlist

(tell me in my ask my anything's if you have a request!)

[satyrtransforms]

Stank Prank

BRAAAAAP

“Whoooooo! That was a BIG ONE!”

I cringed and plugged my nose as I leaned over my paper. Brayden was at it again. He had brought his nasty friends over and was having a farting contest with them. I didn’t understand why he had to be my roommate. Why couldn't he be staying at one of the nasty frat houses or with his other jock friends? Why did I have to be the one who was forced to listen (and smell) an orchestra of farts and burps while I studied. I tried talking to the housing department about it, begging for a different roommate. I would have taken literally anybody else, but they said that there was nothing they could do. I was stuck with him. 

Ever since the day I first moved into the dorm, I had been subjected to the tortures of Brayden’s flatulence. Over time I had gotten mostly accustomed to the smell (a bucket full of air fresheners helped to keep my room mostly stench free), the sound is something I could never get used to.

BUUURRRPP

“Man that was NASTY!”

Even with my door closed, earbuds in, and focusing on studying, I couldn’t escape it. Enough was enough, I slammed open the door and stared angrily at the trio of jocks sitting on the couch and laughing their asses off.

“Look who finally came out to join us!” Brayden stood up, his massive 6’4 figure towering over me. “The nerd emerges from his cave.”

“Would it really kill you to put on some deodorant? Or maybe a visit to the doctor would be more beneficial, all of that farting and burping can’t possibly be normal.”

“You’re disgusting.” I said bitterly, “But then again I’m not surprised, I wouldn’t expect anyone other than a group of dumb, hairy animals to smell the part.” Brayden’s two friends snickered and made overexaggerated gasping sounds. I allowed myself a bit of a smirk, maybe this’ll put that jock into his place. 

Brayden seemed unfazed by my insults. “You know, I really wish you were more like us, man. You’d be really fun to have around. Plus, you look like you could pull off some NASTY shit.” “I’d rather do anything then regress to your level.” I huffed and slammed my door shut, muffling the sounds of their laughter. 

The next evening I came back to the dorm to find the place abandoned, no sign of Brayden or his dumb friends. I sighed, finally I would be able to be alone and get some studying done in peace and quiet. I closed my bedroom door and set down my stuff. Better get started before-

BRAAAAAP

I jumped out of my seat, was that me, or was that Brayden announcing his entrance? Further inspection revealed that there was nobody at the front door, which had to mean… Before I could even begin to imagine how Brayden would have reacted if he could have heard that, I spotted something red on the chair. I walked over and picked it up, a whoopie cushion.

“Verrrrry funny, Brayden.” I said aloud. “But if you think that-” I was interrupted as a pungent smell assaulted my nostrils. The whoopie cushion, there’s no way it could have created a smell right? I squeezed it again.

BRAAAAAP

Yup, it was definitely the whoopie cushion. But how was that even possible? And how did it smell that bad? I put the whoopie cushion down on the floor. There was probably some kind of fake fart spray coating the thing. Now, back to work, I really didn’t want to waste any more quiet time before-

BUUURRRPP

“Little bro I’m back!”

Fuck.

I started walking towards the door, exams were coming up and I really needed to study so I was prepared to BEG for some silence. As I made my way across the room, I tripped over the whoopie cushion

BRAAAAAP“Whoa little bro, that was a nasty one!”

The smell tripled in intensity, as I tried to get back up to open a window, my legs gave out and I fell back down onto the cushion.

BRAAAAAP

My eyes began to water. Every inhale of the pungent stink was making me feel lightheaded. After some struggling, I managed to stand up, I felt woozy, like I had inhaled laughing gas. It was getting harder to think, so hard, why think at all? I blinked. What was I SAYING? I tried to hold my breath as I opened the door, but found myself breathing heavily as the fumes coursed through my body. I flung open the door and stumbled into- my bathroom? Wasn’t I trying to leave my room? I’m so stupid I must have gone to the wrong door by mistake, heh. What the fuck was happening? As I tried to collect my thoughts, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked… good. My arms and chest appeared bigger and more toned and I felt taller. It must the the smell making me see things there’s no way-

BRAAAAAP

…

That one came from me. 

BRAAAAAP

That one too. 

With each fart, I found myself getting taller, more muscular and toned. My pale computer nerd body melted away into a sporty physique. 

“Come on little bro don’t you understand? You’re no fun, so I have to make you fun. I can’t believe that whoopie cushion actually worked! But the rest is up to me now. Did you know you REEK?”

I sniffed my armpits, they smelled awful. I began searching through the cupboards for some deodorant.

“Not that you care anyways.”

BRAAAAAP

That's right, I didn’t care. I loved my smell, I lived in it. Why would I want to get rid of it?

“You love being a stinky, smelly jock”

BRAAAAAP

“A dumb, stinky, smelly jock”

BRAAAAAP

“A stupid, dumb, stinky, smelly jock.” BRAAAAAP

With each inhale I found myself agreeing with Brayden. With each fart I found my old self laving. 

BRAAAAAP

BRAAAAAP

BRAAAAAP I was always a dumb, smelly jock.

I loved being a dumb smelly jock.

I began to take off my clothes.

Being dumb is so nice, no worries, no cares.

It feels so good to reek and smell like a man.

Each time Brayden repeated it, I found myself sinking deeper. My mind completely clouded over.

So dumb, so smelly.

I walked over to the couch and lay back on it, lifting my pits to let my smell permeate the room. 

“Isn’t that so much better?” Brayden asked, “It feels so good to be stupid and smelly, just like us.”

BRAAAAAP

[ro-written]

Only You - C.San

Tags/Warnings: Boxer!San, kinda sorta tsundere!reader if you squint but not really, best friends to lovers, fighting/violence, blood, fluff, yall this was supposed to be less than 1k….and this is so not proofread but fuck it we ball

Word Count: 3.5k

Playlist:

“Are We Still Friends” by Tyler the Creator “Baby Boy” by Kevin Abstract “only you” by karri

You watched with bated breath as San went to the corner of the ring, blood and a dark bruise gathered at the corner of his mouth. Your nails dug into your palms as you clenched your fists in anticipation. You knew that he could take care of himself, he’s spent years learning various martial arts, has been in the ring more times than you could count. 

So why are you always on edge when you watch him fight? Why does your heart race with every punch?

Wooyoung sprayed water from the bottle he had on the side right onto San’s mouth, using a towel swung over his shoulder to dab at the sweat and blood on his face. San tilted his head back, resting against the post behind the stool he was spread on. Woo tilted in to whisper something into San’s ear, something that caused his eyes to blink open and scan the crowd. Eventually, his eyes landed on you, and you saw his lip twitch a bit, before taking a hand and moving Woo off his shoulder, never leaving your gaze. You gave him a little nod, a small semblance of motivation, and put a fist up. It was your silent way of telling him to get up and kick his ass.

And so with your encouragement, San stood back up, body relaxed and you watched as you knew what was to come next. You had seen this move a hundred times by now to know exactly what to look for in his bodily movements. 

The opponent steps forward with a cocky grin, ready to continue his onslaught of punches. But San simply looks at him, eyebrow raised, before swinging his body around, launching himself into the air. It was all so quick, yet it felt like time stopped as his foot collided with his opponent’s face.

The crowd silenced for a split second, everyone holding their breaths. That was until Wooyoung jumped into the ring, stack of cash in hand, and went directly to the opponent, counting down on his fingers right in the man’s unconscious face. After three counts, with no sign of fight from the opponent, the crowd went into an uproar.

You jumped from your chair, and yelled out San’s name, cheering him on from your seat. You could see the tiredness in his eyes, but his excitement overshadowed it. You watched as Wooyoung took San’s hand and raised it up, crowning him the champion of the match. Eventually, people pushed up onto the mat and crowded around San, leaving Woo to leave and collect the betting money from all the losers. However, before he stepped away, San grabbed his collar lightly to hold him back, leaning in to whisper something into his ear. Woo simply nodded, waving his hand at his friend, before walking away, still collecting the money.

You observed as San gave his signature smile to everyone surrounding him, even with the busted lip and bruising at the corner of his mouth. His eyes curved into crescents, dimples appearing as he talked to his fans and signed whatever they were jutting out in front of him. It made your chest flutter, seeing him go from this scary and cold rough boxer to your warm, kind-hearted best friend. 

“Hey,” a voice called out to the side of you, hand landing gently on your arm. You jumped at the feeling, before relaxing once you realized it was Woo. A smile cracked across your face. “Hey Youngie, how’d yall make out?” You gestured your head towards the cash in his hand. He looked down and smirked, slapping the stack against his hand.

“Not too terrible, I’d say. I still have to make some more rounds before people try to sneak out on me, but hey, Sannie said he wanted to see you in the back.” He looked over at the man still in the ring talking to people, now signing some man’s arm. It made you chuckle as you watched the various people fawn over him. But you could see something. It was a split second, but you caught it nonetheless. As someone’s hand came down to pat his back, his face winced, but he quickly cleared it up before anyone could notice.

Anyone but you and Woo, of course.

“Please check on him,” his eyebrows were taut, worry written across his face. “You know how he can get after fights. Make him rest.” His eyes found yours, and his usual playfulness wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“I’ll try. If he actually listens though is the thing.” You offered up a half smile as Wooyoung laughs out.

“Please, only you could tell him to fight a mountain lion with one hand tied behind his back and blindfolded and he would do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked.” His playful smirk was back on his face as you rolled your eyes. You wanted to poke at him and tell him to not overexaggerate so much, but you couldn’t. It was true, and you knew it. You were one of, if not the only, person San would listen to no matter what. Perks of being his best friend for such a long time.

“You know how to get to the back?” Woo pointed over his shoulder to a door with a red sign on it. Staff Only. You nodded, having been back there a handful of times before his matches to wish him luck and give him a hug. Woo nodded, giving you a quick one-armed hug, before leaving off to get the rest of his and San’s money. 

You shouldered your way through the bustling crowd, trying to keep a straight line toward the door. Finally reaching it after what felt like forever, you pushed it open, slipping through and ensuring no one followed behind you. The last thing you’d want is San being mobbed in the locker room while he was trying to have his own time.

The locker room wasn’t like the typical locker room you had in school. You remembered how surprised you felt when you first walked into it. It was a smaller square room, the left wall lined with cubbies for people to put their items away in. One of them was filled with San’s belongings, while the others remained empty, save for a medical kit. On the right was a long couch that took up most of the wall, and two rolling chairs sat near it. In the corner next to the couch was a small refrigerator for people to put away the water bottles and any other items they needed to keep cold. The walls were covered in red brick, and the flooring was a black Berber carpet. Probably so no one could see the stains…

You made yourself comfortable on the couch, not knowing when San would be able to peel himself away from his fans. Picking at your nails, you could only think back to the way San looked at you before he ended the match. Something in his eyes seemed different, an emotion you don’t remember ever seeing in him. You couldn’t quite place it though, and it was frustrating. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what every face, every quirk of his eyebrow, every curl of his lip was saying. You wondered if you were simply overthinking it. Maybe he was just trying to find some sort of encouragement outside of Woo. Maybe he was just making sure you were watching his signature move so he could ask you later how cool you thought it was for the millionth time.

You shook your head, trying to clear it of his sly smirk and pretty dimples.

Suddenly, you heard a click at the door, and your eyes shot up from where they were staring at your hands. You watched as San walked in, hair wet and a new set of clothes on, turning around to lock the door behind him to keep from being pestered while trying to rest. His shoulders sagged from their usual position, something that had you quirk your head to the side. He took a lot of pride in having such a perfect posture, so you knew he had to be beyond tired at this point. He rested his forehead against the door, giving you a chance to take note of all the various bruises not hidden by his clean white tank that had already formed or were forming along his arms and back. You could see a cut on his shoulder that had blood slowly forming around the edges.

“Sannie,” Your voice called out quietly to not startle him. He lifted his head off the door, turning around to see you. In an instant, his face brightened up, a smile gracing his features for a second before the pain took over and his bruised hand came up to his lip. You stood up and walked over to grab his arm, leading him over to the couch. He let you push him down against it gently before you moved over to grab the medical kit and come back to him. You sat down next to him, opened the kit, and guided his head to face you. The cuts and bruises littering his face made you tsk and shake your head a bit, before letting his chin go.

“Well hello to you too.” He smirked and winced again at the pain. You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile playing on your lips at hearing his voice full of playfulness.

“You’re an idiot, letting him get this many hits on you.” You murmured, eyes looking through the kit to find ointment and alcohol wipes.

“Wow, not even a congratulations?” He feigned hurt, grabbing at his chest as his eyebrows furrowed together.

“You don’t need a congratulation from me, San. I knew you were going to win from the start.” You pulled out one of the wipe packets and started dabbing at the cut on his arm lightly, letting him get used to the stinging sensation of the alcohol before pressing any harder. You felt goosebumps stick up on his arm as you held his arm to keep steady. One side of his mouth quirked up in amusement, showing a bit of his teeth.

“You knew I’d win?”

“Yes, San. I always know you’re gonna win.” You grabbed one of the ointment packets out and ripped it, pushing a bit of the paste on your finger. You gently spread it across the cut until it was fully covered.

“And why’s that?” You looked up to see his eyes fixed on you, watching every movement. Your body froze under his intense eyes, face heating up. But you shook it off quickly, setting the ointment packet down to grab one of the bandaids from the kit.

“Because,” you split the bandaid wrapper. “You’re the best there is.” You placed the bandaid that wasn’t quite the honey tone of his skin on top of the cut to keep it clean. It wasn’t a lie, there was no one else you could think of that fought with the intensity and precision he did. You looked up again to see his eyes were still trained on your face, his ever-present smirk still there.

“Yeah?” His tone was cocky, and you had to remind yourself that you were in the middle of bandaging him up to tear your eyes away.

Something was different. Typically, even when it was just you two, you would playfully flirt, not ever meaning anything serious about it. You had been best friends for years, and you were comfortable with each other. You told each other everything and nothing ever felt off or awkward. So why did you feel so tense right now? Why did it feel like all your senses were turned to 11? You let out a breath as a way to bring yourself back to the task.

“Yes. Now, stop talking so I can take care of these cuts.” You gave him a pointed look, a look he was definitely familiar with when you were trying to get his stubborn ass to do something. He nodded with a hum, and you grabbed your wipe again, making sure you had a clean part of it, before wiping at the cut on his cheek. The position was awkward, having to slightly contort his head and neck so that you could reach it.

“Why don’t you– Just– Here.” He never fully finished his sentence before he was grabbing your waist and pulled you into his lap, causing you to let out a sharp inhale at the sudden shift. Your body was frozen yet again. Both of you had been close before, especially with how touchy San could be, always wanting to have skinship. You had even woken up a handful of times after sleepovers (aka you both had too much to drink after partying and you refused to let him leave out so drunk) with his arm wrapped around you. But you had never had this before. Sitting in his lap, faces inches away, his hands still resting on your waist.

“This okay?” He asked, searching in your eyes for something. You realized you had been staring at him with your hands frozen in front of you, and you finally moved after you processed his voice.

“Ye–ahem–Yeah, this is good. Better.” You got out, getting back to work and patching his face up. Your wipe moved from the cut on his cheek to the bruise at the corner of his mouth, gently dabbing at it to clean up the dried blood he managed to miss in his shower. Luckily, you didn’t find a cut there and used your thumb to move his skin around a bit to make sure you didn’t miss anything before grabbing the ointment again and using your finger to spread it out on the cut on his cheek. 

You tried not to think too much about how you could smell the refreshing scent of his body wash. Or how his hair smelled a bit like peppermint. Or how warm his hands felt still holding on to your waist. How you could see and feel his eyes watching you carefully as if he wanted to say something. You grabbed a smaller bandaid from the kit and placed it across the gash to make sure it healed well.

“Done.” You stated with a shaky breath as you gathered up all the trash and moved off his lap. You turned around to find the trashcan and didn’t catch the slight slump of his shoulders when the pressure and warmth of your body on his was gone. You tossed the trash and came back over, grabbing a rolling chair to bring in front of him and sit in.

“It was a pretty intense fight, Sannie. You let him get a few good hits I know you could have blocked. So…why?” You propped your legs up on the couch next to him, careful to not accidentally kick him with your close proximity. He leaned his body back to rest against the couch, arms coming up to drape across the back of it, and his legs extended on either side of your chair. You couldn’t deny that you felt something twist in your gut at the sight of him, but you were focused on his answer to your question.

“Woo and I talked before the match about that. He says that if I get my ass kicked around a bit at the beginning, people are more likely to bet against me in higher amounts, especially if they haven’t seen me fight before.” He huffed out, eyes closed to give them a rest from the ceiling lights. You nodded and tried to look anywhere besides his bobbing Adam's apple. 

“I guess it makes sense. But…I’m just…worried I guess. With how much you let the other guy rough you up. I’ve seen you in some pretty harsh shape but this, San? This is brutal.” You waved your hand in front of his body as if he could see.

“Ah, it’s not the worst. You remember when I got my ribs broken?”

“That was because you were still trying to figure out how to properly do your crescent kick and fell flat on your side, dumbass. Not the same thing as letting someone else beat you black and blue.” He quirked up an eyebrow at that and shrugged his head a bit. You went quiet, a question on the tip of your tongue but you struggled with how to word it. You looked back down at your fingers again, picking again at your nails. 

You didn’t realize how San opened his eyes and raised his head at your sudden silence, watching as you let your nervous habit take over. He leaned over to grab at your hands to keep you from picking at them anymore, and you looked up to once again see his concerned eyes.

“What’s on your mind?”

It never failed that you would be amazed at how well he knew you.

“When or maybe why did you decide to quit letting him hit you if you and Woo knew that you were making money?” Your eyebrows furrowed together as the question finally left out. His hands loosened up around yours and his eyes widened a bit at the question, face slightly flushing. “There was a moment when I saw you and you changed entirely. Why? Did Woo say something?”

He pursed his lips and looked down at where your hands were still connected, his brain jostling around with how to answer you. Eventually, he nodded, jaw clenching and unclenching, and he raised his head to face you.

“I guess it’s best if I just tell you now,” he huffed, making you even more confused. “When I’m in the ring, I have to calculate everything, have to constantly watch for everything that the other guy is doing. And there are moments when it feels…pointless. Like it’s all for nothing. Like I should just give up and let them lay me out, you know?”

You took in everything he was saying, trying to process his words and the emotions that came with them.

“Wooyoung wanted me to throw the match more so he could collect more bets. But…when I looked out and I saw you…I needed to make you proud.” He was ultra hesitant with his words, cautiously scanning your face to gauge out your reactions. It was funny how this man, someone who’s been said to have a cold heart in the ring and iron fists you would never want to meet, is instantly turned into a nervous mess when it came to you. Your heart was beating in your throat now, watching him back with wide eyes trying to understand what he was exactly saying.

“God, it’s just–...I don’t–...fuck, I guess it’s just–...” He keeps cutting himself off, the words he wished to say not forming right in his mouth. Sensing his frustration, you rubbed your thumb over the bruised knuckles, a soothing tactic you knew helped him. And it did, as you saw his face relax from the way it was scrunched up.

“It’s okay Sannie, take your time.” You spoke as gently as possible, not wanting him to feel rushed at getting the right words, or even feel pressured to say them at all. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath through his nose, before opening them back to level with you.

“When I’m in the ring, and all these thoughts get to my head, all I can think about is you. Only you. How you encourage me to keep going, your smile and your voice telling me to finish the match. All I can think about is how your eyes light up when I finally win.” 

You felt completely frozen at his confession, thumbs having stopped their movements since. It felt as if your brain had been slowed in its comprehension skills, and you had to repeat every word he said in your head five times over for it to truly sink in.

“So…you–”

“I like you,” he blurted out, face and neck turning pink. “A lot. More than as your best friend. I like every little detail about you and it just drives me insane not being able to tell you, so I am now. And if you don’t feel the same, well then we can just sort of forget this whole–”

“I like you too, Sannie. More than as a best friend as well.” You interrupted his rant, hands moving from his to grab his face, making sure he hears you. “I’ve been so confused for so long about these emotions I’ve had for you, but I think I’m starting to realize that they haven’t been platonic for a while.” You could feel your ears heating up at your admission, and this feeling of anxiety in your chest relaxed as you were able to tell him your feelings confidently.

And as he smiled at you, eyes twinkling and full of pure love for you, you start to wonder how anyone could see this man as a fighter with a cold heart. In the end, he would always be your Sannie.

---

This was written by @/ro-written and is not to be plagiarized, translated, or distributed anywhere else. Copyright Ro-Written 2023.

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[silentglassbreak]

Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

That last chapter was…oof. Tough to write for sure.

I’m so fucking sorry my loves, but this one’s not much better. We’ve gotta hit the hard parts eventually. Bear with me guys, just remember, I’m a sucker for a happy ending.

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986

Part 9 - The Worst In Me

My body was jostling in the passenger’s seat of Laura’s Corolla. I was numb, my entire body like a block of ice. I stared out the windshield, not seeing anything. Not the road, the headlights, the sky. All I could see was rain. Rain pounding the windshield. Odd, I didn’t see storm clouds earlier?

Who cares?

Laura was silent, but tears were slowly slipping down her cheeks. She cried for me. For my torn dress strap. The bruises on my neck and chest. The bite mark on my shoulder that I didn’t even realize I had until she touched it. The slight tear in my panties.

Laura cried for me. I was done crying.

I wasn’t feeling anything. I wasn’t thinking.

I was simply breathing, my hands paperweights in my lap, waiting to be home.

Will, Laura’s husband, drove my truck behind us. I knew that, but I didn’t care. My phone was vibrating under my leg every few minutes, probably texts, I didn’t care.

We pulled into my driveway, but I didn’t move. Laura came around my side and opened the door.

“C’mon, love.” Her voice was cracked and broken. I couldn’t tell if it was rage or sorrow.

I averted my eyes to finally look at her properly, seeing the eyeliner trailing down her cheeks from her tears, her face red as a radish. In any other circumstance, it would almost be funny.

I stepped out of the vehicle, my legs sore from the struggle. Her husband, without a word, climbed into her car and drove away. I didn’t know what arrangement they made, but it wasn’t my concern.

“Angel, come!” She called for him as soon as the door opened. His nose buried in my side the moment he saw me. He was upset, whining and yipping, not understanding. Good. I’m glad dogs don’t understand. I’m glad he couldn’t understand what just happened to me.

“Where do you want to go, babe? Bed?”

I shook my head slowly. My voice came out in a croak. “Shower.”

She bit her lip. “Are you sure? We can go to the hospital. They might be able to-“

My head snapped to look at her, my expression sharp. “No.”

She stilled, her back straightening. “Okay.” It was soft, I almost couldn’t hear.

My feet began to move, but I didn’t feel the world around me. I could hear Laura’s footfall behind me, following me.

When we reached the bathroom, I avoided the mirror, turning with my back to it. She expertly walked behind me, unzipping the back of my useless dress, and pulled it down. She then scurried to the shower, turning it on and testing the water temperature. I slid my underwear off and unclipped my bra. There was an ache in my shoulder when I reached my arm back to unclasp the back, where his teeth had dug into my muscle.

I winced, but felt very little emotion toward it.

I stepped under the spray, Laura closing the curtain.

“I’m going to wait right here for you, okay?”

I sighed. “Actually, can you let Angel out, and check my phone? Just make sure nothing urgent came in, and shut it off.”

I heard her shuffle out of the bathroom, leaving me to close my eyes under the water, letting it wash the feel of his hands on my skin away.

“Babes?” Her voice came back in. “Noah’s called five times. Should I call him back?”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“Do you…” She trailed off. “Do you want me to tell him?”

“I don’t fucking care.”

My response probably startled her, but somewhere I must still be angry with him. I didn’t even realize it before the words left my mouth.

She left again, and I closed my eyes. I needed to face this. I knew, from experience, that locking it away wasn’t going to help. It wouldn’t resolve it. I needed to confront the emotions now, or it would explode on me later.

I loosened my fists that had been hanging at my side, letting the ache throb into my hands, up my arms, and let the pain take over.

Like a semi-truck, I was hit with the physical repercussions of the day all at once. My neck ached so badly, feeling like it had been crushed and was fighting to hold my head up. My throat burned, a harsh dryness that I couldn't swallow past causing it to feel raw. My shoulder had a sharp, fiery pain that radiated out, down my arm and into my back. My legs were sore, feeling weak and shaky. My jaw felt strained and bruised.

Mostly, however, my head fucking hurt. I couldn't get past the throbbing behind my eyes, feeling like they could fall out while what was left of my brain melted straight out of the sockets.

My chest began heaving, my breathing now becoming uneven, and I could feel the panic rising like a thermometer threatening to crack. I reached my uninjured arm up to grip the wall of the shower, but as soon as my fingers touched the cold tile, like a bomb, the anxiety exploded inside me, causing me to let out a harsh screech.

My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor of the shower with a hard thump. I felt the water on my face, and I was suffocating. I couldn't breathe, my skin feeling too tight. Without thought, I began pawing and ripping at the skin on my legs, needing some kind of relief. My loud whimpering echoed off the walls of the shower, becoming more and more frantic as the seconds passed. I saw the red lines forming on my thighs where I was scratching at my flesh.

My logical mind knew I needed to stop, but I had no control anymore. The sheer terror had taken over.

"Oh my God, Noah I have to go! Just get here quickly, please!" I heard Laura's shoes tapping the floor, running toward the shower. "Leena!"

The shower curtain was ripped open, and the burst of cold air that hit me only caused me to panic further, making me back into the corner of the tub.

"Oh, no, no Leena! Babe, it's okay." Laura stepped into the tub, her hands grabbing at my wrists to make me stop clawing at myself. "Hey! Hey! It's okay! Leena, you're safe!"

"No! No! Don't touch me! Please, stop!" My vision was grey, not seeing anything around me anymore. The water had stopped running over me, and I was getting colder.

I thrashed back at her, her arms coming to circle around my shoulders. "Leena, honey, it's okay. I've got you."

I couldn't find the strength to fight against her, my body forcing me to give out as my vision started fading. I closed my eyes, the tears free flowing down onto my face.

"Please, please, please." I repeated over and over, not knowing what else to say. I just wanted this to be a nightmare. A horrible, awful fucking nightmare.

"Shh, I know. I know. I've got you Lee. You're safe."

-

I opened my eyes, the room silent, sunlight streaming through my curtains and illuminating the wall I stared at. I could feel a heavy presence behind me, and I craned my head over to see Laura sleeping next to me. Angel took up his usual spot on the bed.

I rolled back over, regretting ever moving, as that only brought the physical pain back. My neck felt broken, my windpipe flat. I knew it wasn't, but it may as well be. I had almost wished it was, so I wouldn't have to feel this.

I vaguely remembered Laura getting me out of the shower, dressing me, attempting to get me to eat the now stale PopTart sitting on my bedside table, successfully convincing me to drink water, and putting something on the television before it all went black. I must have fallen asleep, but I didn't remember. Sleep was easier. At least, there, it wasn't real. I let my eyes fall closed, deciding I would just let that be my reality for a while.

I woke up to hushed voices, one of them obviously Laura's, coming from the hallway. I didn't open my eyes right away, the headache slowly creeping back in.

"She's been asleep for about eighteen hours."

"Has she moved at all?"

Noah. He was here. He shouldn't be. He should be driving to Oregon right now. He plays a show in Portland tomorrow.

"Not since the shower. I can't get her to eat yet, but I'm assuming her throat is pretty fucked."

"What the fuck did he do to her?" Noah's voice was a little louder now, and I heard Laura shush him harshly.

"Noah..." I heard her sigh. "I need you to prepare yourself. It's bad."

Well, that was news to me. I hadn't bothered to look at my reflection since it happened. What I looked like was truly the least of my worries at the present moment.

I heard a hard sigh from Noah. "Okay." And then came the footsteps. I still had yet to open my eyes, now nearly too nervous to face him. Evidently I looked like shit, and that wasn't exactly how I wanted to see him after three weeks.

His footsteps stopped abruptly when he neared the bed, and I heard a sharp breath get sucked in. He must have saw me.

I felt a weight sink the edge of the bed near my legs, and a hand softly reach up to touch my arm. "Baby?"

"Be careful of her right shoulder." He couldn't see the bite mark under the long sleeves of my sweatshirt. Laura gave him fair warning.

"Leena? Babe?"

Slowly, I cracked my eyes open, and there he was. My guy. My Noah. All anger I felt toward him melted, everything was gone. I just felt an overwhelming sense of relief. His eyes were red, obviously tired and maybe even tear-stained. His hair was greasier than normal, he hadn't showered in at least a day. His t-shirt was wrinkled, he looked much less held together than I was used to. If I had to guess, he ran straight from wherever he was to the airport as soon as Laura told him what happened.

Sitting up slowly, I felt my lip begin to tremble, fresh, heavy tear drops welling in my eyes. "Noah?"

His gaze dropped to my neck, my jaw, and I could see how a look of panic flashed over his face.

"Oh, baby. Oh God." I saw the moisture fill his eyes and he pulled me into a tight hug, my body folding into him. I could feel him shaking, obviously crying. "Jesus Christ, I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

I sobbed, not holding back the tears. "Noah, oh my God, I missed you so much."

His chin rested on the top of my head, hand rubbing up and down my back as my fingers gripped his shirt so tight, I worried it may rip. "I'm here baby. I'm not going anywhere."

After about fifteen minutes of crying, and just holding each other, we finally broke apart. He had helped me out of bed and to the bathroom. I used the toilet and then stopped at the sink, meaning to wash my hands, but glancing at myself in the mirror. After I had been standing for a while, just taking in what I saw, I heard a soft tap on the door.

"Babe?" Noah peeked his head in, noticing I was just staring into the mirror. My eyes looked dead, a deep blue hue underneath. My jaw had a deep purple, shadowy bruise that extended from the left corner of my mouth to the edge of my jawbone. Where my sweater hung off my shoulder, I could see the edge of the blackened bite mark, the edged red and angry. My neck, however, was something else entirely.

Navy blue bruises lined either side of my throat in a clear, finger-like shape, the edges a sickening yellowish green color. The sides of my neck near my jawline were visibly swollen.

I couldn't believe it. That wasn't me. Not anymore. I wasn't this person anymore.

Noah's tall frame stood behind me, one hand hovering gently over my arm, silently asking permission to touch me. I leaned back, letting my body press against his. His arms came up to gently wrap me in a hug from behind, his face falling into the space between my neck and shoulder.

"Never again." His voice was a hard whisper. "He'll never touch you again, my love."

I just closed my eyes, trying not to feel the pounding in my skull. I sighed, grabbing his hands in mine, and interlocking our fingers.

"I should've listened to you." His eyes opened, and looked into mine via the reflection of the mirror.

"What do you mean?" He looked thoroughly confused.

"You told me I shouldn't have spent so much time with him." I inhaled a hard breath. My voice was still so fucked. "I shouldn't have. I knew he was a creep. I should've known."

He spun me around, catching my eyes in a hard stare. "Listen to me, okay?"

I just stared at him, eyes wide. "You will not blame yourself, whatsoever, for this. Is that clear?"

I shrugged. "Noah-"

He cut me off. "No. I don't care. You had no way to know the guy was a fucking rapist."

"He didn't rape me." I responded quickly, wanting to be abundantly clear.

"He would have." He shook his head. "If you hadn't gotten away, he would have."

I dropped my gaze to my feet then, humiliated. I felt his finger come up under my chin, lifting my face to look at him again.

"And fuck what I said before. I was being a jackass."

This made me smirk ever so slightly. "Fuck yeah, you were."

He gave me a playful grin. "You get to bust my chops for that whenever you want. Especially if it gets a smile out of you."

I leaned my forehead into his chest and groaned. "My head hurts so bad."

"Did you hit it?"

I sighed loudly. "I don't think so, but I also didn't know the asshole took a bite out of me, either."

I felt him twitch. He was so angry, and was holding it back so masterfully. More and more I was convincing myself that his God awful attitude the other night was truly a one-off. My Noah was here, not that douchebag he was being before.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

"They'll make me file a report."

He pressed his lips to the top of my head. "Is that so bad?"

I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing him tightly. "I'll lose my job, Noah."

"And we'll sue the company to high Hell." He pulled me away to give me a hard look. "Leena, he doesn't get to get away with this."

-

Two days had passed, and Noah hadn't let me out of his line of sight once (aside from when he or I used the bathroom). He took me to his house, so he could grab clothes and a few things before coming back with me and setting up camp at my house. He said the guys had taken care of the shows in Vancouver, Seattle, Sacramento, and LA, leaving him five more days until their show in Las Vegas.

He had made a comment that I would be coming with him for the last few shows on the tour, but I hadn't figured out how to tell him that I didn't want to. I didn't want to be alone, but how do I face the guys after this? They had heard what happened to me, minus the more gruesome details, and the thought of their sad, sympathetic expressions made me nauseas. It was mortifying.

The bruise on my face had turned yellow, healing the best out of all of my injuries. The neck bruises were now a heinous greenish purple color, but my throat and voice had begun to recover, which was a plus. My shoulder was by far the worst, the contusions from his teeth rising off of the skin and giving a welt-like effect while the muscle was still a nasty black and blue hue. It still hurt like hell as well.

We were sitting on the couch, legs tangled together, eyes glued to the movie playing on the TV, the latest Scream movie holding our full attention. The bowl of popcorn was strategically placed between our sides, and we both picked at it without looking.

I heard my phone ringing on the counter, and I sighed, figuring it was likely Laura, checking on me again. I was appreciative, and would have no issues with her hovering so badly, but the movie was just getting good. Noah hit pause on the remote, and I stood up to grab the call before I missed it.

When I saw the number on my Caller ID, I raised a brow. It was a number I didn't recognize.

"Who is it?" I looked over at Noah, who was walking toward the hallway, likely to use the bathroom.

"Not sure."

I swiped the call open, holding the phone up to my ear. "Hello?"

The voice that came through made my blood run cold.

"Hello, Mileena?" The deep, yet upbeat, voice had me frozen in place. "It's Lex."

"Y-Yes...?" I stammered, trying not to let my emotions through my voice. "Can I help you?"

I brought my thumbnail into my mouth, chewing on it instinctively.

"We haven't heard from you," My breathing stopped. "since the party."

I stayed silent. He knew. His tone, his choice of words. He knew. He had to.

"I've been, uhm..." I struggled. What do I say?

"Sick?"

"Yeah, uh," I turned my head, seeing Noah had not returned yet. "s-something like that."

"Well, as fate may have it, Sam has been out sick this week too." The mention of his name made my stomach twist painfully. I padded over to my dining room table, pulling out a chair and sitting down in haste, nearly falling off in the process.

"Has he?" I did my best to sound casual, but I knew I was failing.

"Now, I think you and I both know that he didn't happen to end up with a broken nose from any old illness." I broke his fucking nose? Good for me, honestly. "And I guess what I need to know is, do I need to be prepared?"

This confused me. "I'm sorry?"

"Will I be receiving any, let's just say, unfavorable news? From Sam? Or maybe the LAPD?" I couldn't respond. The wind had been knocked clean out of me. "Because I'll tell you, having the type of publicity that would cause is sure to be a tough look for Kline to manage, especially in the face of the merge."

Is he fucking serious. "You want me to keep quiet?"

"I want you to do what's best for you, for your wellbeing, and for your job." There it was. Right fucking there.

"And what about Sam's job? Hm? What kind of phone call will he be getting?"

"Ah, he's been spoken to." That was it. End of sentence.

"Spoken to?!" I stood up now, the chair falling behind me. I heard Noah's footsteps coming down the hall. "That's it?! That's all the bastard gets?! After what he fucking did!?"

"Mileena, you sound exhausted." I stood, mouth hanging open, breathing completely halted. "Take the rest of the week, and then give me a call. We can hash out when you can come back in, and how you'll be compensated for the inconvenience."

"Inconvenience?! That's what you're calling this?!"

"Have a good evening, Mileena."

And the line went dead. My phone fell out of my hand, landing hard on the table.

Noah was pacing back and forth on the porch, and I was leaned back in the chair, cigarette pinched between my fingers. Noah was surprisingly unfazed by my smoking, accepting one for himself and lighting it without hesitation.

Glad we got past that easily.

"Those fucking assholes! We're going to fucking report this. And sue those sons of bitches until we own the whole god damn company!"

I blew the smoke out of my lips, squinting at him. "We are?"

He looked at me in disbelief. "Of course! They don't get to just do this, Leena. They're covering it up by bribing you with money, they didn't even reprimand the fucker, and they're threatening you!"

I sighed heavily. "So I quit. Move on. Go on tour with you," I tapped the tip of my cigarette in the ashtray. "or become a vagrant. Whatever works."

My words were laxed, and I could tell that irritated him. I wasn't doing it intentionally.

"As much as I am on board with you coming on tour with me, and leaving that piece of shit company, that doesn't mean there shouldn't be consequences." He took a long pull from his cigarette before butting it out in the ashtray.

"Noah, can't we just put it behind us? Let's just go out on tour, enjoy the holidays, maybe go on a vacation. Remember? Like we talked about?" He stopped in front of me, clear frustration on his face.

"Why don't you want him to have consequences?"

I rolled my eyes at that. "Of course I want that, Noah. But I've been roughed up enough by a man to know that it never works out like that." He just raised his brows at me.

"What?"

I sighed, putting my smoke out and leaning my head back on my chair. "I tried to get my ex put away for everything. A couple of times, actually." I winced at the memory. "I was the drunk girl, who was ten years younger than him, and didn't have witnesses."

I tossed my hands in the air. "I don't think I have to spell out for you how well that went for me."

He shook his head. "Babe, this is different. You've got bruises, ripped clothes, PTSD for fuck's sake!"

I shuddered. "Okay, and he could claim it wasn't him. Or that I asked for it. That I like it rough." I stood up in front of him. "Trust me, they'll say anything, and it'll still be more believable than my story."

The look on his face told me he believed I was absolutely insane.

"He's going to do it to someone else." I stopped then, my heart pounding in my chest. That was the fact I hadn't considered.

"Well," I began walking past him toward the house. "let's hope you're wrong."

Noah decided to brood for at least six hours after our talk before he finally softened enough to finish the movie, and fall asleep with me on the couch. I woke up to him lifting me, carrying me into bed and crawling in behind me. His arm draped over my waist, and I backed into him comfortably.

His arm tightened around me, and I began fading back into the deep, sleepy haze. Just before I was completely unconscious, I swore I heard him speak.

"I'll make sure he never hurts you again, Leena."

-

The following morning, I awoke to an empty bed, and a note on my bedside table.

'If you wake up before I get back, I had to run to an appointment. I'll be back before ya know it. Love you. -Noah S.'

I quirked a brow. He didn't mention a doctor's appointment, or anything to do with tour or the band? Maybe it was last minute?

I grabbed my phone, dialing his number.

He answered on the second ring. "Hey, baby."

"Hey, where did you go?"

He sighed. "I've just got to take care of some stuff today. Tour stuff."

"What do you mean?" I sat up in bed and stretched. "I thought you said Nick was handling everything?"

"He is. It's not something he can help with though." He chuckled on the other end, a dark sound. "There are some things I've got to do myself."

Something inside me was screaming that something was wrong. There was a light music playing in the background of his phone, and I couldn't place it.

"Where are you?"

"Target."

"Why are you at Target?"

He laughed again. "Don't worry about it babe, just get some rest. I'll be back later this afternoon."

I checked the time on my watch. It was 11AM. What the hell was he doing?

"Noah, are you lying to me?" But the line had ended. He was gone.

I tried to call him back, but his phone went straight to voicemail. He had shut his phone off.

What the fuck was going on?

I had spent the next three hours trying to convince myself that he was fine, everything was okay, and I was overreacting. Once I had failed that argument, I jumped in my truck and drove to his house. Swiping myself in with the gate key he had given me months ago, I saw his truck was nowhere to be found. I did, however, come across Nick walking through the yard toward his own truck.

He caught sight of me and waved. There it was, that sad, sympathetic smile. "Hey Leena!"

He bound up to me and wrapped me in a warm hug. "Hey Nick. Is Noah here?"

His puzzled look answered me before he spoke. "No, I thought he was at your place?" He brushed a piece of long dark hair behind his ear, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Mm, no. His phone's off. He told me he had some tour stuff to take care of? Said he was at Target? Sound familiar?"

Nick was staring at me like I had grown a second head. "No, I have no clue. We don't have anything going on until we have to head to Vegas day after tomorrow."

I shrugged. "I'm just grabbing something out of the truck, you want to come wait inside for him?"

I nodded, following him back into the house and taking a seat on the couch. I pulled out my phone and texted him again.

Me: Noah, I'm at your place. Where the hell are you? Nick doesn't know what 'tour stuff' you're referring to. Call me.

I sat there, chatting with Nick casually, trying like hell to calm my nerves.

"I feel really bad that you guys had to cancel those shows. I wish Noah would have just gone back. I would've been fine."

Nick only shook his head in response. "No way, dude. We'll reschedule them. Besides, it was better he was with you."

The look on his face was unreadable. "Well, it was nice to have him with me. It helped, a lot."

Nick looked down, something crossing his features that I was struggling to place. "Leena...look," He looked up to meet my eyes, looking...guilty, almost? "there's something you should know."

"Okay?" I returned his gaze, now overly curious.

"Noah's asked me not to say anything, but..." I could see him battling with himself, and I was getting impatient and increasingly anxious.

"Nick, no offense, but spit it out, dude."

He opened his mouth, but my phone started ringing, startling us both. I was disappointed to not hear it be Noah's ringtone, but I checked the screen, seeing yet another unsaved number.

I rolled my eyes. "Give me just a sec, okay?"

He nodded, standing from the couch, and walking toward the kitchen.

I swiped the call open. "Hello?"

"This a collect call from the Orange County Detention Center." All the air rushed out of my lungs as the robotic voice spoke. "You are receiving a call from," His voice came through, loud and clear. "Noah Sebastian." I nearly dropped my phone.

"Do you accept the charges?"

-

Nick's truck parked hastily in front of the building, and I tore out of the passenger door, nearly sprinting to the entrance. Nick kept up with me, holding the door open as we walked in. We passed the metal detectors and security, pacing to the front desk.

"We're here to see an," I paused, still unable to quite comprehend what was happening. "inmate?"

The officer behind the desk looked up at me, and huffed loudly. "Name?"

"Noah Sebastian." Nick spoke up from behind me.

The man typed something into his computer, and nodded. "He's in holding. He managed to see the judge before she left for the day, and she granted bail. Do you plan to post that?"

I was in shock, and Nick gently pushed next to me so he could address the officer. "How much is bail?"

"Five thousand." I stepped to the side while I watched Nick pull his wallet out.

"Can I pay with credit?"

"Mhm." He took Nick's card and began typing again. "He'll have a court date on October 23rd, 8AM. Papers will come in the mail."

He then looked up to the both of us. "If I were you, I'd tell him to get a decent lawyer."

Nick and I glanced back and forth, and he cleared his throat.

"Could you, uh," Nick was shifting uncomfortably. "can we know the charges?"

"Assault and battery." He said it so casually, as if he was telling us what day of the week it was. I deadpanned.

"Who did he assault?!" Nick's voice was at least four octaves higher, now.

"Can't release victim info, son. Come with him to court if you want to know more."

My mouth was hanging open, staring at the officer.

"Now, we'll just need some time to get him processed out. Might take a while. He's pretty far gone."

"Far gone? Did he get beaten badly? Does he need medical attention?"

The man was standing then, paper receipt being handed to Nick, but he looked right at me over his metal-rimmed glasses.

"Darlin, he did the beating. His hands are pretty roughed up, might need an X-ray, but I mean he's going to be hard to wake up. He's drunk as a damn skunk."

My heart sunk. This wasn't happening. This wasn't fucking happening.

[coredrill]

fans of the SPIRAL POWER SHOW when their movie theater chair starts spinning:

and more moviegoing/dub thoughts below the cut!!

okay. i'm gonna be as organized as possible about this but i am probably gonna be all over the place and add to it later LMAO. BUT.

4dx thoughts first: jesus fuck lmao. i've never actually been to a 4d movie before and i feel like this experience is NOT representative of what a normal movie would be like but they really shook us around huh!!! i think those seats only stopped moving when kamina died, and i say "i think" bc there may have been more times when they stopped but my ass was unawares because i still felt like i was moving anyways LMAO.

they played an interview with imaishi, koyama, and wakabayashi (most likely filmed at anyc) before the showing (they did it before my dub showing too, even tho i just saw that one in a regular theater) and these mfs are so funny i swear lmao. they were like "we wanted to use the effects to their fullest so we added in movement during the emotional scenes too!" and then wakabayashi was like "i fell out of my seat while watching!" and then imaishi was like "my keys fell out of my pocket and i almost left them in the theater because they were between the seats" and then they laughed and THEN wakabayashi was like "oh wait they're watching gurren-hen right? nvm they'll be fine" but like. that shit felt like a ROLLERCOASTER so WTF IS LAGANN-HEN GONNA BE!!!!!!!!!! it made me so curious so now i also plan to see the sub of that one in 4dx LMAO. me when i literally die because the insane ppl at trigger decided to mimic a galaxy being thrown at a giant mecha and wanted me to feel it.

also. they sprayed us with water during the scene where gurren lagann's spiral energy feeds back and simon/lagann throw up. and like. i mean i can't say i ever WANTED to get vomited on by my fav anime boy, but it sure did happen!

okay. friend-who-hasn't-seen-ttgl-before-thoughts next: i was REALLY surprised how much it hooked him considering that i've always viewed the movies as subpar compared to the show but it REALLY sold him on it!!! and i'm so happy cause idk if he ever would've made it through those first 7 episodes of the show without knowing what was to come lmao. unfortunately he can't make it next week so we'll have to watch lagann-hen later on, as well as the show proper, but i'm SO curious to see what he thinks. especially bc the only complaint he rly had (aside from being violently shaken LMAO) was that simon, kamina, and yoko were really the only characters he could keep track of. like even nia didn't show up early enough for him to really track what was going on with her i think!!

when it comes to lagann-hen i am SO curious what he'll think of rossiu. cause rossiu's my other favorite anime boy but DAMN they really give him like two seconds of screen time total in this movie LMFAO. and THEY DON'T EVEN ESTABLISH THAT HE IS FOREHEAD BOY?????? like they play that scene where kamina's like "i wanna give simon and gimmy and darry and forehead boy a good future" and my friend was like "WHO?" lmao. i guess you're just supposed to see the size of his forehead and come to your own conclusions FDLKSJFHSLKJ. and i did tell my friend that rossiu is Important in lagann-hen but i'm so curious as to whether that whole plot point will actually. like. make sense? and if he can track why rossiu is all of a sudden In Charge and Like That? idk but i can't WAIT to see it. similarly though i do wonder what he'll think of kittan's sacrifice cause kittan got a nothingburger this movie too LMAO.

when it comes to the show i am AGAIN curious what he'll think of rossiu, like what he'll think going from a smaller role for him in the film to a larger role in the show. cause obviously i am -_- at the downsizing but rossiu adds SOOOOOOOOO much to the show on the whole that i wonder if having a different first impression will frame him as a character differently??? IDK!!!! and ALSO i am curious what my friend will think WHEN EXTRA BITCHES START DYING AT THE END LMAO. like it's one thing to do from all of dai-gurren dying to them all living, but from them all living to DYING?????? i'm SO CURIOUS. i feel like watching these movies with him has me appreciating them more in the same way that watching eva with friends made me appreciate eva more too. except i like ttgl a whole heck of a lot more to begin with, even the movies, so i think this might just kill me entirely LMAO.

NOW. ONTO THE DUB.

prefacing this section with Holy Fuck I Am So Glad This Exists I've Cried Over It And Could Cry More. the fact that i've wanted this so bad and it HAPPENED. do the impossible i suppose but i can still HARDLY BELIEVE IT'S REAL. and listening to every single second of it was just a complete and total joy and i wouldn't trade it for anything <3

and now that the sappy stuff is outta the way SAM RIEGEL THE VIRAL THAT YOU ARE!!!!!! he did the ABSOLUTE BEST IMO, he still captured the same voice he did in the show dub AND he managed to like, have a coherent new take on some of the scenes? like during his first or second confrontation with kamina he had this more bored tone that worked SO WELL for me because. yeah!!!! viral thinks humans are inferior at that point, so he WOULDN'T be giving this battle 100%!!!! excellent choices all around and whenever they release this on home video i am gonna listen to this performance for like a week straight.

other generally great stand-outs were LORDGENOME ofc and also dayakka was pretty great too!! they didn't have a whole lot of changes but they worked well in the OG so they ofc worked well here too!! oh and kittan and his sisters too!!! they didn't get as much to do but kittan's still got it and if i heard correctly they even got the same VAs for his sisters too? like stephanie sheh kinon doesn't surprise me bc she's still so active in the industry but kiyal especially sounded rly similar in her like. three lines LMAO.

i WAS actually rly curious abt if they would recast leeron into literally anyone other than "steve blum doing a ~gay voice~" and uh. they didn't lmao. but tbh i think it worked for me anyways; the movies cut out so much of the blatant homophobic jokes which is one super nice thing about them, and also they were SO diligent with getting the rest of the cast back that it makes sense he'd come back too? like i didn't expect DAYAKKA to return but it sure sounded like the same guy to me, let alone the bachika sisters and gimmy and darry, so i get why they kept blum too and it was fine in most parts imo

i really liked bridget hoffman nia too!! she didn't sound the same as hynden walch ofc but i think she gave a great performance and i think it'll be really beneficial to have this sort of continuity of voice going between pre- and post-skip nia.

my adai kiddos...........well jyb didn't have a whole lot of lines as rossiu so i don't have much to say other than i think he did fine with what he had LMAO, i'm SOOOOOO excited to hear him in lagann-hen though!!! especially towards the end, where rossiu's belief gives simon et al the strength they need to finish the battle and win, and also the "so many others like us out there" line....... i MAY burst into tears hearing that in a theater LMAO. also it threw me off when they pronounced darry's name as "dairy" SKLDJFH

YURI LOWENTHAL............oh honey you do not sound like a fourteen year old boy anymore LMAO. it really sounded like he was putting in the EFFORT to make his voice as high as preskip simon's is haha. but his performance was still fucking amazing, especially in the hot-blooded parts where it needed to be, and tbh it was kinda sweet that he sounds different now? like, it's a charming reminder that even if it took a while, enough people loved this story hard enough that the dub got made FIFTEEN YEARS LATER, and simply typing that is making me tear up LMAO so yeah i obviously didn't mind. can't fucking wait to hear him as adult simon tho, that may awaken something in me yet again >:)

aaaaaaaand yoko and kamina lmao. obviosuly these are the hardest to judge because they also, alongside simon, have the most lines? so there is more material to compare LMAO. and both of them certainly gave very different performances that i'm not quite sure how to feel about yet. like the acting itself was still amazing, but it was different and not like sam riegel's in a way that was so obviously elevated that i'm having a bit more trouble parsing my thoughts lmao. like my knee-jerk reaction is "different, so not the thing i love, so worse" but that's not true!!! that's not true at all, and i think i may just need to hear it a few more times for the new inflections and what not to gel with me lmao. though i will say, like literally everyone else, that i think michelle ruff was directed differently as yoko - you could tell there was more effort to make her voice more nasally, or to use her head voice in general, or to sound more cutesy/girly. and i PERSONALLY don't think that's the right choice for yoko, as she's got so much more going on with her gender than just being a cute girl, but this is not the place for that discussion LMAO. so they certainly weren't bad by any means, i think they might just need a few more watches to grow on me the same way the show performances have. or just to have more fleshed-out opinions! anyways, 4k uhd english dubbed bluray WHEN aniplex.

overall the differences were SUPER interesting to hear tho!!! like i'm not well-versed enough in dubbing as a product of the late 00's versus now, but i imagine it's partially changed as an art form and that led to some of the performance differences. in general it was really funny when they slightly changed the dialogue and the lip flaps and pauses wound up in different places!!

the imaishi koyama wakabayashi interview mentioned the same thing that they said at anyc, that they were hoping to make a show that could last ten years. and now 15 years later it's STILL loved enough to get a whole ass new dub and theatrical release. and i just. i'm gonna make myself cry again LMAO, i love this story so much and it's been such a great experience <3

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Fictober '21 Prompt No. 19 — "I feel strange.“

Category: Original WIP: For The Stars Rating: T Timeline: an AU in which both Warren and Thrive are human CW: Mature situations Word Count: 737 Additional Notes: this is way too short lmao

***

PART IV ➳ PART III ➳ PART II ➳ PART I

"Hoo, boy," Warren sighed, running a hand down his face. "I feel strange."

Thrive nodded from his seat at the opposite end of the couch from him. "I've noticed this happens when you've had red wine."

"You think I could be allergic? I haven't even had two glasses."

Swirling his own wine in the stemmed glass held between his long fingers, Thrive shrugged, using a remote in his other hand to flip through the streaming titles on the TV. "It's possible. I'd stop drinking that one to be safe."

Warren perched his glass on the coffee table. "Dinner was great, by the way. Thanks for cooking."

"I'm happy to do it." Thrive switched to a music app and started one of Warren's playlists, getting to his feet. "I'll do the dishes tonight since you're not feeling all that well."

"You sure? I could probably still do 'em…"

"Don't worry about it. There isn't that much to do."

"Only 'cause you clean as you cook." Warren chuckled, tapping his foot to the song. "You fuckin' nerd."

He caught a good-natured eye roll as Thrive entered the kitchen with both glasses.

The song changed and Warren shot off the couch. "Oh, here we go!"

"What's that?"

"I choreographed a whole thing for this," Warren said, already into it, moving as if it were second nature. The up-tempo dance beat kept a wide smile on his face even when Thrive paused his task to watch him with an odd look from the open kitchen. "Didn't you know I danced from middle school to college?"

"…Can't say that I did," Thrive said.

"Yeah, man," Warren cheered, letting the music overcome him. He danced around the coffee table, singing along, and he brought his hyped energy into the kitchen, where the closer he got to Thrive, the higher the corner of Thrive's mouth inched upward. "Nearly threw my hat into the erotic dancing ring to pay for school."

"Hmm." Thrive used one hand to spray the dishes in the sink with water from the detachable nozzle, not taking his eyes away from Warren. "There's an abundance of qualification, in any case."

Warren stopped and quirked an eyebrow. "Well that's an interesting development. Like what you see, Judge?" He spread his arms and swayed his hips. "This doin' it for you?"

Thrive cocked his head. "Would you want it to?"

"Considering I'm half a misfired synapse away from grinding on you, I'd say so, yeah."

"Maybe not into that, per se," Thrive said, turning his full—yet visibly reluctant—attention onto the pans he cooked with, "…but I may want to revisit the erotic dancing topic in a little bit."

"If you want a lap dance, it's fifty bucks."

Thrive laughed. "Don't ask how I know this, but that's a bit steep."

Warren paused between songs and ambled the few feet to him. He snaked a hand around the back of Thrive's neck and leaned in close to his ear. "My guy…this would be the best lap dance of your entire life."

"It would be the only lap dance of my entire life," Thrive muttered, though his voice had subtly tightened.

"And god, would I be honored to give it." Warren's fingers raked through Thrive's hair, rubbing into his scalp with gentle firmness.

Thrive forced out a breath as he attempted to focus on his chore. "Give me ten minutes."

"You have five."

"I can do three."

"Speedrun it, baby," Warren purred. He snickered, starting up a dance for the next song and moving into the hallway that contained their bedrooms.

—

Warren opened his eyes to complete silence and a pitch-dark room. The playlist had clearly run out ages ago and someone had the forethought to shut off all the lights in the apartment. He shifted and knocked his elbow into a body beside him, earning a grunt for the occasion.

"Oh, fuck, sorry…"

"What's wrong?" Thrive asked groggily into the side of his head.

"Uh…nothing. Whose…whose bed is this?"

"…I don't actually remember. After a certain point, I wasn't exactly paying attention to our surroundings." A few beats passed during which the sound of rustling filled the silence and the mattress shifted. "This is a double. We're in mine."

"That tracks," Warren yawned. "Probably still night. Brain feels like noodles. More sleep."

"No arguments here," Thrive murmured, looping his arms around Warren and lacing their fingers together before they both drifted back to sleep.

[skelly-words]

im thinking abt something so nastyyyyy in my tentacle series. plzzzz, i’m so high rn!

cw- MINORS DNI, breeding, eggs/ovi, alien monster breeding. just in case y’all were curious abt the creatures in bring your tentacle to work day.

accidently letting the tentacles breed you. it feels so fucking good to use both at once. almost every day, you’re fingering your butt open in the shower so both of them will fit. the greedy little monsters are so used to your holes by now, the blue appendage immediately squishing into the space between your legs to flick at your slick cunt.

All day at work, the long tentacle fucks you open, stretching you out to fit even more pink eggs. you’re somehow never quite full, always able to let the sticky feelers on the pink muscle push another few of the gelatinous balls inside of you. something changes when you shift in your seat. a release of pressure as one of the jellies slips past your cervix.

and your belly starts to ache as eggs fill your womb. slowly at the start, but then your muscles adjust and you really feel it. The band of your skirt stretches the slightest bit, hardly noticeable. It only becomes more apparent as the blue tentacle spurts inside you, filling you with sticky blue cum. The thickness keeps it plugged inside you, making your tummy swell more. The tentacle’s texture, cupped suckers running up one side, help push the cum past your cervix. the sound coming from your cubicle is always pornographic, making your coworkers slow on their walk by. it’s especially bad today.

you whimper into your hand, trying to squeeze your thighs together to muffle the sounds from down there. but that only makes the feeling more intense as your pussy spasms around the squirming blue length. You grind harder against your seat. the pink tentacle is too busy stuffing your pussy with eggs to give any attention to your pulsing clitty.

You hump the cushion faster, moaning like a slut against your palm. you’ve probably cum three times today and it’s barely noon, but your sore pussy always wants more.

—

it’s not until the next day that you notice something is wrong. the pills corporate prescribed you haven’t made the eggs fall out yet. in fact, the bump of your stomach has doubled in size and it’s only been 18 hours. When you try to use your pet tentacles again, they won’t penetrate you, only cupping and massaging your wet cunt.

After a week, you’ve had to invest in maternity clothes. it’s painfully embarrassing and everyone at the office is politely pretending not to notice.

Sometimes you can feel whatever’s in your stomach move. and you wish it freaked you out more. this is fucked up, but it doesn’t matter for some reason. that night, you get in the bath and your cunt starts to throb as soon as you touch the hot water. everything feels so sensitive. the water lapping at your nipples as you sink in makes them stiffen and ache.

One hand moves to your clit. it’s already twitching from gentle strokes from your finger. your other hand tugs at your nipple, pinching at it while trying to remember what it was like for milk to dribble out.

your cunt is dripping wet, feeling slick, even in the water, as your fingers push into your opening. it’s been a while since you’ve had to please yourself and you’re out of practice, but that doesn’t seem to matter. your body is so receptive to every touch. those two fingers drag deftly against your walls and you’re already cumming. you sink them in deeper, bucking against your palm as a sticky white ring forms around your digits.

You can’t stop, shoving them in and out of your cunt until your tummy starts to tighten again. This time, your orgasm hits you harder, making hot spurts of cum spray your hand as you keep fingering your sloppy pussy.

“fuck-“ you jump in surprise as something slips between your fingers. a thin blue tendril wriggles in the water. you’ve hardly processed that when more begin to crawl out of you.

the miniature tentacles spill out faster. you have to spread your legs to accommodate the stretch to your cunt. both hands toy with your tits now. you twist at your cute nipples until you squirt some more. the only thing you care about is the feeling. a pleasure that makes your whole body twitch from each wave of mind-breaking orgasms.

Your moans echo around the steamy bathroom, the muscles in your jaw go slack. Shivers run down your back. Water sloshes out of the tub as your back arches, still playing with the tender nubs on your cute tits. The spawn push out of you in gooey spurts. They gush from your gaping cunt each time you cum, squeezing them out of your used up hole.

—

the little motherfuckers get shoved in a tank and sent to your boss with a note: so sorry, won’t let it happen again.

what a lie. you keep using both at once bc it feels too good to stop, and nothing beats the hypersensitivity when the weird ass alien babies pop out.

a/n-this is so unserious, but tysm for 500 <3

[bu1410]

Good afternoon TUMBLR - April 4th - 2024

''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971."

Aksai, Kazakhstan - July 2000 - December 2001.

Part 2.

Mr. ZINNO HAIR CUT There was a nice atmosphere between us – we spent a lot of free time together, even doing the most banal things. One Sunday morning we accompanied mR. Zinno to the hairdresser. Calogero, despite being in his sixties, was proud of his still flowing 70s-style hair (like Bobby, JR's brother from the TV series Dallas, whose hair covered even his ears) and took care of it with frequent dyes, such to look like a sort of black crow. Pennacchia and I sat in the rickety chairs, while the hairdresser took care of our friend's hair. Sitting in the swivel chair, a blue apron and cotton was placed around Calogero's neck. Then the girl approached the sink tap, drank a glass of water and suddenly, from above Zinno's head, sprayed all the swallowed water with a ''spray effect''!!! Calogero jumped up, more surprised than scared, shouting an understandable ''MACHEMINCHIAFAIIIIIII''!!! (What a f**** you doing!)

The hairdresser: Sooryyyy Mr. Zinno………spray bottle kaputt……….!

Zinno: what the fuck caputt spray bottle…at least you could tell me before spraying water over my head, no??

PENNACCHIA AND COPS It was Saturday evening, and we were going to have a dinner at the RENCO restaurant (Our Company had signed an agreement, whereby we employees only paid for extras such as wine, etc.). We were late, so Pennacchia was driving a little faster inside the city. During the weekend, as we had long since learned, several Uralsk policemen were moving to Aksai, counting on the presence of foreigners to ensure an extra supplement to their meager salaries. At an intersection there was cop with a manual radar! He stopped us, and complaint about speeding, and the usual rant:

''So you need to go to the hospital to check if you are not intoxicated…'' Zinno Calogero, who had a great antipathy towards policemen, urged Pennacchia to ''settle'' the fine immediately.

Come on Franco, come on… we're already late… give him something and let's finish it there…… Whereupon Franco put his hand in his jacket pocket and gave a handful of banknotes into the hands of the agent - who, after pocketing the ''swag'', jumped to attention and gave us a salute that to define as suspicious is an understatement. Later at RENCO restaurant, when it was time to pay for the extras, Pennacchia put his hand in his pocket and to his surprise found nothing. He put his hand in his other pocket and found a handful of Tenge (Kazakh currency). We saw Franco first turn white and then red with anger:

He had given the policeman the wrong handful of banknotes, namely American dollars!! It It was then we understood the cop's greeting and exaggerated smile!!! We went out from the restaurant, and Pennacchia still didn't calm down: he had given almost 200 dollars to the policeman, and he couldn't rest! He kicked everything that came his way, and he blame 'Zinno for rushing him!!

M10 We used to spent Saturday evenings at M10 disco club (basically the acronym for Microrayon 10, the neighborhood where the nightclub was located). There were various art shows, dancers, magicians, and competitions such as Games Without Borders. The place was not far from Czech Camp, divided only by a vast wheat field - but to return to our compound we were forced to pass through a large roundabout. And it was there that the ''trap'' was sprung. The police had equipped the nightclub bouncers with their own walkie talkie, and when a foreigner left the club and drove a car, the bouncer informed the patrol that a ''customer'' was arriving. One night was my turn too, of course. Inside the nightclub I only drank soft drinks, and that evening was no exception. I was stopped by the cops patrol and invited to sit in the back seat of the two-door NIVA. Next to me was a ''presumed Doctor'' who repeated in his very approximate English: ''You drink??? And then ''you drink!!!! And then again ''you drink????'' And then the policeman started the same old story:

You drunk, need to go to police station, today Saturday, Court only Monday……you want this’’??

Me: I drink only Cola……. And then we moved on to the second part of the ''show'' : the ''Doctor'' wrapped an A4 sheet of paper like a chestnuts conteiner and ordered:

Blow in! Then he took the cone back, smelled it and then nodded towards the policeman saying:

Daaa……(Yes.....)

The policeman then started the Court thing again on Monday………

But I didn't give up and repeated ''I drink only Cola…pajalusta.'' Then the '' Doctor '' sighed and got ready for the third Magician wonder: he took a glass vial out of his pocket and explained that I had to blow hard into the vial. It should be taken into account that all this took place inside NIVA car in the dark. After having blown into the vial, the ''Doctor'' with a move worthy of the best magician replaced the vial into which I had blown, with one that he kept ready in his jacket pocket. Of course a blue one (to demonstrate that I had been drinking)

Beaming, the policeman shouted: you see…piva piva……viski…cagnac….(beer......whiskey.....cognac)

Me: nieeet……you replace the probe…….

Doctor: nooo……ya chestnyy!! (honest) In short, after another 15 or 20 minutes of fooling around, a compromise was reached: they would get out of the car to smoke, and 5,000 Tenge (10 euros) would ''fall'' out of my pocket, which they would then accidentally find later on the floor of the their car. And so I was finally free to return to Czech Camp.

WINTER Winter had arrived (it was October 6th) and I had been sitting on a Tupolev airplane at Almaty airport for about 40 minutes, looking out the window at a team of people trying in vain to shovel snow from the plane's wings to be able to take off. It was snowing like I had never seen in my life!!! – Than after few minutes the Caètain announced:

''Everyone on the ground, we're not flying today''!

During the winter of 1999-2000, following exceptional snowfalls, a group of people remained stranded at rafinery for a week and then they were recovered with military tracked vehicles. Therefore a strict rules were established in case of snowfall:

White flag at compound exit gate: we could leave whenever we wanted, even with just one vehicle.

Yellow flag: departures allowed only in convoy of at least 3 vehicles

Red Flag: no one could leave the camp, except for emergencies.

Inside the camp, after a series of car accidents, a speed limit of 10 km (ten…) per hour was implemented!! The vigilantes were stationed at every corner with radar to catch anyone who exceeded the ''limit''!! And the sanctions were pouring in.

SATURDAY EVENING A day traditionally dedicated by the locals to ''epic hangovers'' (it's not that they didn't drink on the other days of the week) but on Saturdays they put particular effort into it, since they could then count on Sunday to recover. It was 8.00 in the evening, and we were leaving by car to go to dinner at RENCO. In Kazakhstan, given the abundance of snow, the roads have deep channels on both sides. As soon as we left the field, the lights of our Toyota illuminated a man walking with a very unstable balance. He gets dangerously close to the drain channel and then falls in!! We stopped immediately the car, and when we retrieve him was already asleep! After loading him into the car, we took him to the camp infirmary, where the Czechoslovakian Doctor took care of the poor guy: this time it went well for him, but many other times these people are found the next morning, dead from cold exposure.

RICHARD BARNES He was an British guy from Sunderland, and the Site Manager of Electro-instrumental company working the field. A fan of his hometown team, he taught me the famous rhyme with which Sunderland supporters welcomed the football player Alan Sheerer, when Newcastle was playing at Sunderland stadium: ''Alan Sheerer is illegitimate, he got no birth certificate''

It was one of those Saturday evening of 2000-2001 winter. Richard was walking back from the camp pub, towards VACTA building where we lived, he was drunk. Once he arrived in front of the building door, Richard started to search for keys from his jacket but because he was wearing gloves, the keys fell into the snow. At this point Richard made his first serious mistake: took off his gloves to look for the keys in the snow. It was dark, and he kneels down, rummages in the snow, puts his head close to the ground to try to see better - and then he makes his second mistake: he falls backwards into the snow and falls asleep! It was around 2.00 am, there' was no one around, no one saw Richard's fall. At 4.00 am Bulat, one of our drivers in charge of turning on the cars in the middle of the night (without this operation the vehicles would not start in the morning) arrives punctually at VACTA car park. Bulat saw Richard lying in the snow so he immediately calls the camp's emergency room - the nurses arrived within 5 minutes, and took Richard to the medical center. Richard eventually survived, but will undergo numbers of surgeries. In order to stop the gangrene, part of his right hand will be amputated, the one with which he had searched for the keys in the snow.

CHRISTMAS 2000 I spent Xmas in Aksai, like many other colleagues. Mr. Secchi, our beloved Vice-President, had also returned to Italy for Xmas & New Year holidays, leaving to Mr. Cavicchi the keys to the chalet where Mr. Secchi lived with his wife. Mr. Secchi was a real gourmand and recommend to Cavicchi - above all - to keep the well-stocked cellar under lock and key - inside there all the good and fine items were kept: Parma hams, culatello di Zibello, 36-months old Parmesan, fine wines and precious liqueurs.

''Don't worry Mr Secchi anyone who wants to enter that cellar will have to pass over my body first! Said the unwary Cavicchi. He had not taken into account the diabolical Pennacchia - who, taking advantage of a distraction by Cavicchi, took possession of the precious keys and made a copy of them. Well you can imagine what happened: practically every day, as evening fell, Franco took a tour of the cellar of the aforementioned chalet, a sort of ''daily shopping'', but without ever exaggerating! Upon his return, Mr. Secchi naturally noticed the shortages, and did not fail to give a public 'smooth and knock' to poor Cavicchi, who swore that he had not touched anything. The gruff Secchi naturally knew who could have been taking the food and drinks, but he was careful not to make any accusation (even if sometimes, at the evening meeting, when we were all present, he addressed Pennacchia with a

''But ..............are you sure you don't know anything about the missing goods from my cellar???''

MARIO CAVICCHI Mr. Secchi, since the presence of his wife Mrs. Venera, could not act freely - and therefore was much more nervous and irascible than usual. He therefore wanted to put an end to what he considered ''a scandal''! ''The coming and going of local women in VACTA buiding must stop!!'' he said one evening during the daily meeting.

You Mario - Secchi said - from now on you will be responsible for the VACTA security service - you'll employ 2 guards on 12+12 hours shift, there will be a register where entry and exit of staff and any ''guests'' must be noted with signature and times !! And every day you will bring me the register because I want to check personally what's going on there!! So it was that from that day on we saw a guard appear at the entrance to VACTA building, equipped with a table, chair, register and pen. And every time we entered or exited the building, as instructed by Mr. Secchi, we had to write our name, surname, time, signature (and possibly who we were accompanied by). But as they generally say ''the law is made, the deception is found'' - after a few days someone (perhaps Pennacchia?) came up with the idea: let's always write and sign ''Mario Cavicchi'' in the register! (and every time the guard nodded and said ''daaa…daa…'') And so we did, but when the register arrived in the hands of the Mr. Secchi an uproar happened. He called Cavicchi, shouting at him:

''How is it possible that you enter and exit the building at any hours??!! Don't you have anything else to do during the day!!?? The attempt to bring order to the VACTA visitors had failed miserably, and the coup de grace was delivered by Mrs. Venera during the usual Sunday lunch, which was held in Secchi's chalet:

But what is this ridiculous idea of controlling employees' lives after working hours? Secchi (she always called him by his surname in public). You must give orders to stop this ridicolous practice immediately! We are in an ex-Soviet country, but we are Italian!! Thus the controls were eliminated, and we returned to the usual messy life.

Mr. VABRINI Vabrini was a fairly calm guy: head of the purchasing office at SAIPEM, obviously he had his own ''inconveniences'' (like all those who do that type of work). But always with discretion and without ever exaggerating. However, something must have gone wrong recently, perhaps Vabrini had ''stepped'' someone's toes - or perhaps he simply hadn't considered that the Kazakhs were not as ''peaceful'' as they seemed at first glance. The fact is that on that July Saturday evening at the M10 club Vabrini was not sensitive enough to grasp the danger signs that should have warned him. The local girl with whom he spent the evening, incredibly, with an excuse left him early, before midnight. Left alone, Vabrini drank a couple more glasses and then, to avoid the usual police blows, he set off for Czech Camp on foot. And to make it quicker, he cut into the wheat field, now almost ripe and therefore very tall. Arrived a few meters from camp main gate, the ambush: perhaps 3 or 4 individuals, armed with sticks, attacked him - and started to beat him up!! Lucky for him, that we - and when I say we I mean Zinno, Pennacchia and myself, were returning just at that time to the camp. The NIVA headlights, at the ''S'' before entering the camp, illuminated that atrocious scene. Zinno honked furiously and we got out of the car, while the shady characters ran away, leaving the unfortunate Vabrini on the ground, bleeding and lifeless. He was in very bad shape, but he was conscious: we loaded him into the car, and having traveled the few meters that separated us from the Czech Camp Medical Center we entrusted him to the care of the Czechoslovakian doctors. It took a few weeks, but Vabrini fully recovered from the beating. The police dismissed the attack as a simple robbery attempt against a careless expatriate walking down a dark path on a Saturday night.

TRAIN TO AKTOBE In Kazakhstan the railway network have been built by Russians to serve Russia's interests. It therefore happens that to go from Uralsk to Aktobe (two Kazakh cities) the train enters and exits Russia 2 times - a sort of sinusoidal progression, instead of a more or less straight line. (And all this without there being any natural obstacles , like mountains, lakes etc, but a flat and boring steppe). At the time, to be able to travel by train in Kazakhstan one had to buy a ticket in advance – all passengers had to be seated, and long-distance passengers (almost all) had sleeper compartments which were called ''coupe' ''. A student who had spent the summer for an internship with us had to return to Aktobe, and after having purchased the ticket the day before, we took her to the railway station. Estimated time for the train to arrive: 5.30pm – we therefore arrived at the station about 20 minutes early. Strangely enough, there were no other passengers on the scheduled platform. After waiting for over half an hour we went to ask for information to the counter. As usual, to make citizens' lives as difficult as possible, the hole to the information office was blocked by a piece of plywood. I say ''hole'' because it was a semicircular opening of approximately 25x15 cm, located approximately 1.20 meters above the ground. The unfortunate person who needs information, was forced to bend in to speak through the opening, generally to a person that only a belly can be seen. After a series of contortionist maneuvers, the girl got up from the uncomfortable position and looked at us with a disconsolate look:

The train passed almost 1 hour ahead of schedule!!

So?

So I'm not travelling today, I'll have to come back tomorrow…. The next day we returned 2 hours before the scheduled train arrival which arrived as scheduled at 5.30pm. The girl found the booked carriage and got in. We noticed that, apart from the normal passengers who got on and off the train, there were shady individuals who, taking advantage of the stop, got off the train and met on the platform, exchanging quick signs of understanding and short words, and then getting back on the train, all on different carriages from which they had alighted. We were then explained that those guys were members of real gangs that operated on trains, robbing passengers during journeys.

MAZZOCCHI ORESTE This gentleman from Piacenza had joined our project during early November - a person over 65 years old, with a robust build, rosy complexion, thick glasses, hair combed back with abundant use of brilliantine (we suspected that he was one of the last three people in Italy to use Linetti brilliantine ). He seems to have been sent personally by Mr. Riccardi (known as ''the Accountant'', he was one of the Company founder and still its largest shareholder) to control and report on the accounts of our JV. Another gossip we learned from the zealous Cavicchi Mario was that Mazzocchi had arrived from Italy with about 70 kg. of extra baggage, consisting of salamis, coppa, hams, cheeses and other delicacies: he didn't let us taste even one! December was approaching, and the personnel office requested the list of employees who would return to Italy for the end-of-year holidays, in order to book flights tickets. Mr. Oreste, which arrived just over a month earlier, in theory would not have had the right to return to Italy for Christmas. But he put himself on the list anyway, and when the HR secretary asked him about it, he replied with an enigmatic smile and said:

Ehhh…I have to go to America…… (without adding anything else).

Whereupon we all put forward the strangest hypotheses about Oreste's journey to America. Who said he had relatives in New York; others that he had made a commitment before they sent him to Kazakhstan; still others hypothesized that he had to accompany his wife to a medical specialist in Houston, Texas. Christmas 2001 arrived, and then the end of the year and then after the Epiphany the lucky ones who had spent the holidays in Italy returned to Aksai. Mazzocchi Oreste also returned. Now you should know that indoors in Kazakhstan, during winter, it is incredibly hot. Most of the time I used to sleep with the window little bit open, in order to avoid sweating at night. The Company's offices were no exception to this, so one evening, during dinner at canteen, we saw Oreste with a white T shirt bearing the logo of ''COSTA CROCIERE - MIAMI''. Intrigued we asked:

Nice T-shirt Oreste, is it new? Where did you get it?

Well… - Oreste replied with that mocking smile that never failed on his ruddy face - it was a gift from my wife, when we were on a cruise in the Caribbean, during the holidays. We all remained with open mouth!! He had passed off his return to Italy - which was not due - as an ''unpostponable'' need and then, he candidly admitted that he had been on a Caribbean cruise!!!

Ahh… I said, and this explains the reason for that even reddish face than usual: El Caribe en todo Sol! – I said.

Well - Oreste replied - I don't know why, in fact I go on a cruise because my wife loves it, but myslef I go because there are slot machines on the ships and I won't leave them 24/7….

[vigilvntes]

How Do I Look? - Adrian Chase x Reader

A/N: idk im half asleep and i wrote this in half an hour. shout out to @neptuneswritingwork for sending the hc :)

Summary: reader tries on adrian's glasses for the first time during a debriefing.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 800+

••••••••••••••••

You leant back in your seat, sighing quietly as Murn debriefed you on the last mission in the butterfly takedown.

Truthfully, you didn't know why you had to be there. You knew what went down, and so did the rest of the team, yet Murn insisted that debriefings were necessary and for the greater good of the team. Something about self-reflection and improving future performances. You didn't know, nor did you care.

All you wanted to do was grab your boyfriend's hand and get out of there as soon as possible so you could return to the comfort of his apartment, crawl into his bed and sleep off the long night yourself and the team had endured.

Speaking of your boyfriend, he looked equally as bored as you felt. He was using his elbow to prop up his chin, staring off into space. His glasses were on the table in front of him, which was strange considering they were usually straight back on his face as soon as the mission ended, his contacts safely tucked away in a small case.

You weren't complaining, though. He was a vision with or without the glasses resting on his nose.

Then, it occurred to you. You had been dating Adrian for almost three months, and not once had you tried on his glasses. Deep down, you knew that it would send Adrian feral. Just seeing you lounging around in his shirts on the odd occasion the team had a day off drove him absolutely insane.

So, you shifted forwards in your seat, resting your hand against the table. To the others, it looked like you were finally taking interest in what Murn had to say. They would never know that you were just trying to grab Adrian's glasses from under his nose.

Slowly but surely, you inched your hand towards Adrian, who remained clueless as to what you were up to. And clueless in general, actually.

Quickly, you reached over and grabbed his glasses, cursing internally when the quiet clang on the metal frames against the table caught his attention. He glanced at you, shooting a small close-lipped smile your way, before he turned his attention back to staring off into space.

The only one who seemed to notice what was going on over on your side of the table was Harcourt, who sat cross legged on her desk across from you. She shot you a questionable look, and you just grinned back at her, holding your boyfriend's glasses up proudly. Harcourt just scoffed in return, shaking her head.

Then, you slipped his glasses on to your face.

Shit, he really wasn't lying when he said he had poor eyesight.

You blinked a few times, trying to adjust your eyes as you glanced around the room at the now blurry faces of your team. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Adrian move, picking up the water bottle in front of him and bringing it to his lips.

You seized the opportunity.

"Hey, Addy..." You whispered, tapping his shoulder gently.

As soon as he turned to his head a little, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, he did a spit take in what you assumed to be surprise. The water from his mouth now sprayed all over the table in front of you as he coughed and spluttered.

You just laughed loudly, throwing your head back, not caring that the debriefing had been interrupted and everyone's eyes were now on the two of you.

When he had calmed down, he looked at you again, properly this time, breathing out a 'fuck'. You looked so cute and... sexy. He loved it when you wore anything of his. Be it his shirts, his sweats, his boxer shorts. Hell, he even loved it when you borrowed his socks. It was a reminder to him that you loved him and wanted to be close to him.

"How do I look?" You asked, chewing on your bottom lip, a grin threatening to creep onto your lips as you tried to give him your best serious expression.

"You look so adorable." Adrian mumbled. He was resisting the urge to lean in and kiss you.

"Yeah?" You grinned at his response.

"Yeah." He nodded, reaching a finger up to tap your nose gently, a smirk on his lips. "I just wanna eat you up. I wanna eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner."

You gazed up at him through your eyelashes, willing him to continue. "If we were alone, I'd do unspeakable things to you right now in those glasses."

That illicited a groan from everyone in the room, followed by a 'fuckin' gross' coming from Chris.

"Get a room." Harcourt mumbled under her breath.

"Vigilante, (Y/N)." Came Murn's voice from the front of the room, "Are you two finished?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

Both of you nodded, however neither of you broke eye contact. You knew what was coming when you eventually returned home, and you would be surprised if the two of you even made it out of the car.

Tags

@bvcksmurdock @neptuneswritingwork @cressida-clearwood @withahappyrefrain @all-the-captains @lindenvale @tinalbion @ladamari68 @flower-slut00 @milfodyssey @madmax2191 @andromacher @myguiltypleasures21 @ctrlzellaeil @osnapitzandi @flutterskies

[jaylaxies]

LAKESIDE RENDEZVOUS

pairing : best friend!jake x fem!reader

genre : smut with a plot, best friends to lovers, mentions of vandalism, swimming, car sex (fem top), riding, breeding, a bit of fluff.

wc : 1.5k words

warning : 18+ content, minors dni.

a/n : im back with another jake fic! all likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, i hope y'all enjoy this fic <3

"did you just spray paint a dick on the wall?" you laughed in amusement at your best friend. vandalizing the city with spray paint at 2 am didn't seem like the best idea to you. "oh come on, it'll be fun." jake had conveniently added with expectantly raised eyebrows. and, well, you agreed.

"why? wanna suck on it." he heartily laughed at his 'joke' while finishing his said masterpiece. you snorted. "maybe i should draw boobs for you to suck on, then we'll both be busy." and soon enough, you were using the red can to draw what seemed to be boobs.

"i'd rather be busy with you." he winked, his face covered with mask to not let the harmful spray in, just same as yours. you rolled you eyes, making sure that he saw it even in the dimly lit street at the back of the hospital wall.

flirting was a common occuring with jake around, and it was always considered to be 'friendly' because best friends flirt, don't they? well not to the extent that you both do. that's what the others say at least.

before you could retort, the back door slammed open, revealing 3 workers, all wide eyed. they screamed at you for ruining the walls. and soon, you both were running as they chased you. jake's boyish laugh resonating all over the silent alleyway, his hand gripped your wrist.

you both were laughing and screaming as you reached his car, getting in as fast as you could humanly muster, you both left that place. the workers seeming lost as the car speed up into the roadway.

"that was crazy." you spoke after calming down, heat evident on your cheeks from all the running. he chuckled, "i told you it'd be fun." you hit his shoulder.

"they would've caught us you dumbass." you screamed, still smiling. "ow, don't hit the driver, what the fuck?" he feigned hurt but the smile on his face said otherwise.

"where are we going?" you interrogated, looking at him.

"our place." he said and you smiled, relaxing into the seat as you waited to reach the said destination, singing along to your favourite songs as he drove. he safely parked the car after reaching, your heartbeat finally calm and content now.

the moon was the first thing you saw at the lakeside dock, still prettier than ever, shining brightly at you. jake stands beside you, admiring the night sky alongside.

"let's swim." he spoke out of nowhere.

"what goes on in that brain of yours?" you asked, amused, stripping down in your undergarments already, not wanting to bicker with him.

you turned to see him already in his boxers, his body well defined and more muscular than ever, extending his hand for you to take, which you did in a heartbeat. with blooming laughter, you both jumped into the semi cold water of the night lake, screaming with joy.

he wrapped his arms around your waist as you wrapped your legs around him, trying to save yourself from the water. too close. his breath on your neck making you shiver further.

"stop laughing." you cried, holding on tighter.

"make me." he smirked.

silence. you stared at him, not annoyed but flustered all of a sudden. these past few days had been a torture for you, realising how you were in love with your best friend. this particular scenario didn't help much with your case either.

he noticed your sudden silent state, gulping once and moving closer to your lips, too close for a best friend.

"you're pretty." he breathed out. nervous yet bold, with a hope that you'd get his confession as a partner and not just a friend.

"so are you." you confessed, softly caressing his cheek. he leaned in your touch still looking in your eyes.

it was now or never, to take this relationship a step further or just lose everything all at once. the latter sounding worse. taking yet another deep breath, jake gently kissed you.

wet bodies pressed together as the moon and starts watched friendship turn into something more, something in the lines of what they call 'love'. the water calm and collected, silently witnessing it all.

you broke the kiss to catch your breath, staring at him with wide eyes. jake looked unsure. of the kiss? no. of your reaction? yes. even in the moonlight you could see his flushed face and shiny eyes.

"fuck it." and you were kissing again once the initial shock of you initiating the kiss wore off on jake. it was messy and needy, like you both wanted it. like you both needed it.

jake carried you back to the dock and sat down next to you with laboured breathing.

"so–" you stretched out, "you like me?" you winced asking the mere question, avoiding eye contact.

"i do." he said oozing sudden confidence. you both turned your faces together, eyes wide open.

"okay." you said, still processing the information.

"i do too." you whispered loud enough for him to hear.

seconds later, you were making out again, stumbling towards his car in a rush. the haste clear. soon, you were in the backseat of his car, jake hovering above you, water dripping his wet figure.

he wasted no time in pressing himself against you, kissing you fervently, cursing against your lips, something in the lines of how long he's waited to taste your lips.

"do you trust me?" he looked at you, serious.

you bit your lip, steadying your voice before pulling his face close to yours, giving him one meaningful kiss before looking him dead in the eye.

"jake, just fuck me already." you ordered.

soon, you were on his lap as he unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere on the front seat of the car. you held on to him while he placed butterfly kisses all over your neck, down to your boobs. you leaned against the seat, releasing breathy moans.

jake's lips were hot against your cold skin, making you melt under his touch. you could feel him growing hard as you sat just above his clothed dick, he placed his large hands on your waist as you started to grind on him. his hand near your wetness, teasing you slow.

"stop teasing me." you moaned.

"if you don't like it then why are you moaning?" he kissed your neck, sucking on it.

"yeah?" he asked, gripping your waist tighter, pushing your core against his now fully hardened cock.

you both swiftly removed your bottoms, now fully naked. he pushed two fingers in you, scissoring you open expertly. his mouth muttering profanities the whole time.

you grabbed his length, teasing his tip, spreading the precum all over it, stroking him firmly. you observed how he threw his head back as his eyes fluttered shut with the pleasure.

you watched him in the eye, removing his hand and rising up a bit to line yourself with his cock, slowly entering him and adjusting to his size, both of you moaning at the raw feeling, he whined as you clenched around him.

his big warm hands supported your ass and guided you up and down him, the sound of skin slapping along with the light rain which had started pouring; was the only thing to be heard.

you grabbed his wet hair as you started rolling your hips against him, eyes never leaving each others in the process. your other hand reaching to rub your clit for further stimulation.

jake was a mess, wet and shining in the dim moonlight. you observed how one of the water droplets travelled all the way from his neck to his faintly defined abs and all the way down.

you bit your lip again to prevent lewd sounds coming out but jake didn't like that. you gasped as he started bucking his hips to meet yours, hitting your good spot. breathing hard, you held on to him as his thrusts got faster and sloppy. you shivered as he fondled with your breasts, both of your climaxes building up.

"jake, i'm so close." you arched your back.

"me too, princess." he groaned.

you clenched, creaming his cock and sighing with bliss, keeping your head on his shoulder to catch your breath. he kept moving to reach his high, you soon felt him twitch inside of you.

"cum in me." you whispered near his ear, and so he did. his warm liquid filled you as he held you close to him, hugging you softly.

after a few seconds of silence with only the sound of rain begin audible, jake looked at you, intertwining your fingers with his.

"be mine please." he smiled, his eyes shiny and hopeful as you bit back a smile of your own.

"no." you playfully answered, making him whine and pout like a kid. you laughed, kissing him again.

"yes, okay–" you were interrupted with another kiss, you both smiled into it, happiness evident.

"you're sleeping at my place and we're cuddling the whole night, i don't care what you say." jake decided.

"okay." you were happy, happy to finally be with him as a lover and not just a friend.

spray painting at 2 am didn't seem like a bad idea to you anymore.

taglist : @en-cityzen @sunghoonsworld @softforqiankun @ye0njunzp1xie @eunoia-kth @lix-freckle3 @woniebae @baekhyunstruly @heenotes @sungniverse @shinramyeonz @starryjake

PERMANENT TAGLIST OPEN!

© jaylaxies

[primehyuck]

let me in

AKA Haechan knocks on your door, begging for you to take him back

soft!dom haechan w/female reader

word count ~3k

warnings: shitty angst (begging, crying, etc), oral (M/F), soft!dom sweet talk, ass play, squirting (she’s so lucky), a little manhandling, choking, spit, etc. 

2:17 AM

You wake with a start, violent knocking on your door causing you to shoot up in bed, your first thought that someone was trying to break into your apartment. The knocking persisted, voices echoing in the hallway audible even from your bedroom. Sliding out of bed and grabbing the pepper spray you kept on your keys you slowly made your way toward the front door, feeling like the girl in a horror movie that was about to be murdered if only she hadn’t gone into the basement. 

“Dude, not so fucking loud.” You lowered the hand holding the pepper spray at Johnny’s familiar voice. Confused, but less terrified. There was no reason why he should be bothering you at this hour, especially considering you hadn’t seen him once in the five months since you and Haechan broke up.  

“What if she’s not home? What if she’s out with someone else right now?” Haechan’s panicked whine has your hand pausing mid air on the way to the doorknob, hammering heart ready to burst out of your chest. 

“Then at least you tried, buddy.” Johnny sounded tired, and a little drunk. 

“I’ll wait right here until she comes home, then” Haechan states and you hear his body slide down your door, landing with a grunt on your welcome mat. Johnny didn’t respond, following his suit with a deep sigh and also claiming a spot on the floor. You took a deep breath, hooking the pepper spray back onto your keyring before leaning against the door, trying to catch your breath. 

“I’m going to open the door now, if you don’t want to fall, I suggest you move.” You wait until you hear Haechan scramble to his feet before pulling it open, the cool breeze from outside causing goosebumps to rise on your bare legs “What are you doing here?” You asked and Haechan opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking like a fish out of water before shaking his head softly. Your chest felt tight at the sight of him, nervous butterflies filling your stomach and emotion clogging your throat. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, black jeans dusty from sitting on the ground, and you could smell his familiar cologne from where you stood in the doorway.

“Haechan has some things he wants to say to you.” Johnny finally said, rising slowly and shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, apologetic eyes trying to assess your reaction. Johnny had really tried to change Haechan’s mind about interrupting you tonight, but he knew that Haechan would find his way to your front door eventually and figured it be best if he was there for damage control. 

“Can I please come inside?” Haechan’s voice was pleading and gentle, shifting from foot to foot as he took in your tired eyes suddenly feeling guilty for waking you up, something he hadn’t considered on his long walk to you. 

“You can go, Johnny. I’ll call you if I need you.” Haechan smiled softly at your acceptance of him, Johnny nodded, surprised eyes moving quickly between the two of you as Haechan eagerly stepped into your apartment. He follows you through the dark, flipping on lamps behind you as he goes, as if he had never left in the first place.

You felt awkward, wringing your hands nervously and taking a seat on the couch. Haechan is looking around to see what had changed since he was here last. The only noticeable difference are the missing photos of the two of you that used to adorn the walls and coffee table, replaced by ones of friends and family. Haechan flexes his hands, not sure what he expected but the lack of him in your space still made him upset. 

“Don’t tell me you woke me up this late just to stand there” you sighed, nervously clenching your sleeves into your fists and he shook his head

“I didn’t, I’m sorry.” He inhales shakily before sitting next to you, running an angry hand through his hair and turning to face you “I don’t have a speech prepared.” He admits softly, sad eyes finding yours

“Then what?” You have to look away, scared that he’ll be able to see how much you still miss him if you let him look at your face for too long. His presence is making your head spin, and you dig your nails into your palms to see if this is some sort of pathetic dream.

“I miss you, so much” He murmured, reaching down suddenly and grabbing your hands from your lap. You stared down at his familiar fingers, the ring you gave him for your one year anniversary still tucked onto his thumb “I was out with Johnny, and I realized-“ he paused, suddenly embarrassed, hands fumbling to push your sleeves up so he could grab at your fingers “I couldn’t remember what you smelled like and I hate that. I hate it so much I had to come be reminded.” 

“Are you serious?” You asked, stuck somewhere between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I’m sorry I should have called or something.” His grip on your hands tightens, squeezing at the flesh of your palms and rubbing the skin on your wrists “I’m fucking miserable without you, I’m-“ He trails off again, and you wanted to pull away from him, skin on fire under his touch. 

“That’s so unfair” you say, emotion evident in the crack of your voice and you wish that he would just look up at you, his eyes still focused on your hands in his.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry” He apologizes again, shuffling closer to you, rubbing circles on your forearms now, shirt sleeves pushed up to your elbows, his eyes wash over your familiar skin “I feel like, this is the first time I’ve been able to breathe in months.” He mumbles and you feel stuck, angry because you feel the same way. Angry that this is exactly what you’ve been wishing for and now that it’s happening you’ve completely forgotten the monologue that would send him away with his tail between his legs, sorry that he ever ended things with you.

Instead, the only thing you can choke out is “You never called me, you never-” you wanted to cry “you told me you would call me when things quieted down.” 

“I know, I wanted to, fuck I wanted to so bad, but I couldn’t, I thought you’d be mad.” He shakes his head, angry with himself.

“Well, I’m mad now” you admit, still desperate for eye contact. His shoulders sag, mouth coming down to your hands, familiar lips trailing across your open palms, down onto your wrist. 

“Please don’t be” he whispers, pulling you toward him so he could kiss further up your arms and he finally, finally looks up at you. His eyes are red, tears threatening to fall, and you feel your lower lip begin to wobble, months of emotions bubbling up in your throat. He shakes his head, moving a hand up to press a finger to your lip to still it “please don’t cry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” You shake your head, not being able to help the few tears that roll down your cheeks. You feel stupid, breaking so quickly at his words unable to pinpoint how you were feeling. His apologies excited you but didn’t change how heartbroken you were. 

“Please let me stay, let me fix this” He begs, fingers gently holding your chin “I don’t know who I am without you, I promise I can fix it, you have to let me try.” He pulls you closer to him so you have to rise onto your knees to maintain balance, trading his grip on your wrists for a hand on your cheek. Shiny eyes staring intensely into yours, searching desperately for a response. When you nod your head, he lets out a relieved breath, eyes closing softly. He’s prettier than you remember, you can’t resist reaching up to brush a hand over the few freckles on his cheek and he leans into your touch, grabbing your wrist to hold it to his face. Haechan savors the feeling of you, terrified you’d change your mind and pull away. You lean forward to rest your forehead against his, melting into him when he grabs your throat softly, pulling your mouth to his. 

His kiss is gentle but desperate, tongue prodding into your mouth immediately and you sigh at the taste of him. He moves quickly, forcing you onto your back, pulling your legs up around his waist, one hand falling onto your hip, the other supporting him on his forearm, fingers lacing into your hair. You dig into the nape of his neck, pulling him in so tight you could barely breathe. 

Haechan had missed this so much; the taste of your mouth, quiet moans filling the room, your smell overwhelming him, and he pulled away to bury his nose in your neck, sighing into your skin when you stretch your head back to give him more room. He pulls at the hem of your shirt, helping you sit up to take it off before continuing his trail down your throat and latching onto your collar bone. One hand cupping your breast, brushing his fingers over your nipple, skin pebbling up under his touch. You can feel him everywhere, your skin on fire under his familiar hands. Haechan couldn’t control himself, grinding into you once with a pained groan. 

He pushed up onto his knees, hands trailing from your chest to your belly button until he grabbed your hips, turning you toward the edge of the couch and climbing down onto the ground, fingers around your throat pulling your mouth to his again, your hands landing on his sides to pull his shirt up over his head. His lips trailed down your ribs, nosing at the top of your panties before he had you lifting your hips, pulling them down your legs. His face presses into the skin of your inner thigh, leaving a wet stripe up your leg with his tongue. He has a hand on your right knee spreading your legs open, the other threaded under your left leg stroking firmly into the top of your thigh. 

“Look at you, I missed this pretty pussy.” Haechan whispers, nosing into you and breathing deep, exhaling with a loud moan before he attached his mouth to your clit, tongue rolling heavily as he sucked. His mouth covered you fully, eyes closed with bliss as he rolled against you, making out with your pussy. His arm pushed your leg open further before he trailed it down your inner thigh, using the back of his hand to rub circles into the skin. You gasped at the extra stimulation, gripping Haechan’s hair roughly while he made obscene slurping sounds, tongue moving down to push into your pussy with a lewd groan. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs up so your knees landed on your chest, rising onto his knees and moving his mouth in a sloppy figure 8 encouraged by your sinful moans, squeaking out his name when he sucked on your clit hard, mumbling whiny pleas for him not to stop. 

Haechan pulled his mouth off you, a string of spit keeping you connected until he moves a hand, rubbing three fingers over your swollen clit, soaked with his spit. He looked up at your heaving chest, weighed down by your own legs watching you react under his touch.

“My pretty pussy.” He coos “I love eating this sweet cunt” he moves his fingers off of your clit, returning with a light smack that made you whine, thighs shaking when he slides two fingers into you, the third stretched down to rub gently around your perked asshole. 

“Oh fuck, Haechan,” You lift your head to look at him, his eyes fluttering up to meet yours while his hot mouth wraps around your clit again, fingers pumping in and out at a tantalizing pace “I’m so close.” You whimper and he groans against your pussy, third finger finally dipping into your asshole enough to have your back arching off of the couch, thighs closing on Haechan’s head as you cum. His fingers picked up speed, knuckle deep in your asshole while he crooked up against your g-spot, mouth not stopping deep sucks on your swollen clit, mind on auto pilot working you through your orgasm.

Your body shakes, slapping a hand over the forearm he has pressed up against your thigh. “Please please please” your chest heaves and you let out a short scream, squirting over Haechan’s long fingers and he pulls his face away, fingers quickly replacing his mouth to rub hard over your clit, tongue sticking out to catch the fluid gushing out of your pussy, Haechan let out a loud “fuck yes, baby.” Your legs tried to push together, and he stopped his movement on your clit to cup his hand over your pussy, rubbing up and down with his palm, fingers digging into the flesh on your pubic bone. He stared up at you, his own mouth still hung open, nose and chin dripping with your cum. He stands, letting your leg go and flipping his hand so his fingers now toyed close to your asshole, pressing his wet chest onto yours “You are so fucking sexy.” He growled into your mouth, dripping cheeks sliding against yours. 

He smacked your clit again before letting go of your leg, pulling you up to sit and you reached forward to unbutton his jeans, dick straining under the tight fabric. He gathers your hair in his hand when you pull his jeans and boxers down in one go, his hard cock sticking out straight, precum already wetting the tip. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can, hand wrapping around the base and Haechan throws his head back, moaning prettily while his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. You gag against him and pull off, drooling down your chin before swirling your tongue on the underside of the head of his cock. 

“Did you miss my cock in your mouth, baby?” He questions, looking down at you and tugging your hair while you nodded, moaning around him at the burn on your scalp. “Doing such a good job for me, you like choking on Daddy’s cock don’t you.” You nod again, gagging while spit drips onto your thighs.

“Fuck, I missed this pretty mouth.” He pulls you off him by your hair, grabbing under your chin and squeezing your jaw open, spitting into your mouth and pressing his tongue to yours with a moan, lips wrapping around your tongue and sucking slowly. He stands up straight, eyes fixed on yours while he grabs your hand, tugging you up from the couch. 

“I’m not going to fuck you for the first time again on this couch when I know there’s a big mirror next to your bed.” You follow him to your bedroom with weak legs, your thighs sticky from your orgasm. He flicks on the lamp on your side table and leads you to sit, leaning down to kiss you deeply before climbing on the bed and spinning you around, lifting your ass into the air. His dick slides against your puffy folds, still wet with spit and your own cum. He spreads your ass, spitting crudely onto the tight hole and rubbing his thumb gently over it, relishing in the muffled noises you’re making into the blanket. He guides his dick into your pussy, jaw dropping open with a guttural moan as he watches himself push into you slowly, your asshole pulsing around his thumb. 

“Oh my god” you moan loudly, crying out when he pushes all the way in, stretching you out. He starts to thrust, leaning forward to fist the hair at the base of your scalp, pulling your back up into his chest and forcing your gaze forward into the big mirror leaning against the wall. He plants one foot outside of your thigh, his pace quickening with newfound leverage.

“Look at you, taking my cock like a good girl,” you whimper at his words, his mouth sucking the skin just above your collar bone “did you miss me, baby?” He mutters into you, forcing you to nod with his hold on your hair.

“Yes, fuck daddy I missed you so much.” You cry out and feel him smile against your neck before he makes eye contact with you in the mirror, letting go of your hair to wrap it around your throat, forcing your head onto the front of his shoulder. He holds your gaze as he fucks you, watching your tits bounce in the mirror, breathing heavily into your ear. He finally releases your throat, three fingers reaching to rub circles on your clit and it takes all of your strength not to fall forward onto the bed.

“You want to squirt for me again, hmm? Get my cock all wet, ruin your sheets.” You gasp out a yes, one hand grabbing the forearm resting on your hip while he rubs your clit harshly, the other wrapping up around the back of his head, holding him to you. “Look at you, my pretty girl. This pussy was made for me.” He murmurs into your ear, thumb pulling out of your asshole so he can grab your chin, pushing the finger into your mouth while your body tremors, the pressure against your clit quickly pushing you toward an orgasm. 

“Come on babygirl, I know you can do it.” He urges, balls slapping against your skin with every thrust, dark eyes never leaving yours and he feels you tighten around his cock, mouth falling open in a silent scream around his thumb. Your legs shake and it feels like the hand on your clit is the only thing keeping you up as you cum around him again, stuttering out curses and pressing all of your weight against his chest. Haechan moans, hips slowing, and his forehead falls to your shoulder when he cums, mixing with your squirt and making a loud wet noise as he continues fucking into you, hand moving from your clit to pull at the fat on your hips as his movements slow. He falls back onto his calves, holding your shaking body close to his chest while you both catch your breath. Your hand moves to cover his when he starts pressing soft kisses to your spine, shoulder, the nape of your neck before he slowly lifts you and rolls you onto your back. He pushes your legs apart, moving down to spread you open with two fingers, watching his cum drip out of your pulsing hole.

“Always so fucking good for me” He tuts before leaning in and opening his mouth around your pussy again, licking at his own cum and sighing happily. He takes your swollen lips into his mouth, sucking hard enough that he’s pulling away from your body before letting go with a loud smack, tongue immediately fucking into your dripping hole. 

You quiver from the overstimulation, pulling at his hair and he reluctantly takes his mouth off you to let you bring him up to your face so you can kiss him. He lays down between your spread legs, letting most of his weight fall against your chest to get close to you. You wrap an arm around his neck, the other falling to the side of his head and tugging gently at the sweaty strands sticking to his temple. 

He moves down your chin, curling in to kiss behind your ear before finding your mouth again. “I miss you so much” he says between kisses, and you nod in agreement, not trusting your voice. After a while he pulls away, forehead resting heavily against yours, thumbs brushing against either cheek and he smiles at you sadly, current gaze polar opposite from when he was staring at you in the mirror moments ago.

“I think about you every day, you know.” Brushing his nose against yours sweetly “I need you; I’d do anything to have you again.” He presses himself impossibly closer, positive that if he were to let go you would disappear into thin air, a dreamy apparition. Your fingers claw through his hair, arms wrapping tightly around him, burying your face into the base of his neck, turning your head as far into him as you could. 

“Please, say something.” He murmurs desperately, pulling away and forcing eye contact with his grip on your chin. He looks terrified, your silence almost worse than a rejection. 

You shake your head, trying to convey your emotions with your hands running through his hair eagerly, emotion clogging your throat still. 

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks, defeated, hand gently stroking over your cheek as he tries to absorb every detail of your face, in case you say yes.

“No, no please don’t leave.” Your voice is weak but urgent “I want you to stay, I need you to stay.” He soothes your ever wobbling lip again, kissing your face gently, heart hammering in his chest as he finally feels himself relax for the first time in five months. He mumbles a relieved “thank you” into your cheek. You lay like that for a while, wrapped up in one another, trying to make up for months lost. Haechan sighs happily, content in your tight hold on him, pulling away so he can look at you again.

“Hi,” he smiles sweetly before shutting his eyes tight, shaking his head “let’s never break up again!” he whines loudly, demeanor changing as he nuzzles into your neck, kissing under your jaw with an exaggerated “mwah” sound.

You smile, “deal.”

A/N

that should be me

anyway hi ! feel free to drop a request in my inbox hehe i promise i’m making a mental list of them

masterlist

[quellmythirst]

Call Me: A Cab

Summary: After meeting your phone sex operator on a date, you decide to take him home.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x PhoneSexOP! Billy Russo

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ONlY! Dirty Talk, Oral, kissing, chocking, biting, porn with little plot swearing. Other shit I missed...? let me know.

AN: Lots of folks asked for a follow up and I am very easily peer pressured. So, here you go my lovelies

One

The dinner was nice, it turns out that you and Billy had a few things in common. Namely a love of books and a very evil friend, though the difference in your lives was a lot you seemed to be getting along like fish in water. He admitted that he had known who you were when you made your appointment, your mutual friend suggesting that it would be a great way to tell you about his work, without the awkward conversations.

With dessert finished you feel excitement in your bones, acting way less reserved than you would normally. Immediately inviting Billy over for a night cap. You haven’t even gotten your second foot out of the restaurant door before he was pulling you close, his lips intertwining with yours in the most heated kiss you have ever experienced. His fingers holding your face close while his warm tongue sweeps through your mouth. Tingles running down your neck, lighting sparks through out your body. You stood in shock for a second, before your body came back down to earth, you kissed him back with all the passion you had been keeping in for the man in your phone.

Billy quickly hail’s a taxi, laughing as he tugs you down next to him in the back seat. There was no way Billy was keeping his hands to himself on the cab ride back to your apartment. One second they were in your hair, the next they were riding up the insides of your thigh. His lips are somehow even softer than you imagined and you had been imagining them since waking up this morning. The delicate caress he is giving your neck sends spark’s into your stomach, his long fingers inching closer to your panties, the only thing distracting you from Billy is the driver in the front seat. Who you could see staring at you in his mirror. Billy catches his eye, informing the man to keep his eyes front in a firm tone that made you shiver.

You kept your whimpers to a minimum at Billy's behest, insisting that he was the only one who got to hear you, the only one who could know how you sounded for for him.

You manage to bat his hands away long enough to unlock your door, the nerves starting to creep on you again. What if you didn't look how he imagined? What if he was disappointed that you weren’t some sex goddess? You began to fidget, not seeing the hungry way Billy was eyeing you in your tight dress. Imagining what you had on underneath, how your hair would look spread out beneath him. How the soft curve of your beautiful fucking legs would feel pressed into his chest or how fucking perfect your face would look when you came on him.

“What are you doing?" ”He asks, coming up behind you, his hands hold firmly on your hips.

“Getting us a glass of wine,"” you laugh dryly, figuring the wine would help to ease your nerves. Billy leans over you, his hard cock pressing into the small of your back. Reaching as he takes two glasses from the cupboard and setting them on the counter. Those long fucking fingers of his flicking at your wrist, curling around and gliding up your arm.

“I think you’re overthinking again,” You shiver when his warm whiskey breath ghost over your ear, your ass shaking into him, “Do you do that a lot?” He grabs you by the waist, keeping you closer to him. His hand sprays across your torso while he continues his assault on your neck, “Let me help with that,” he turns you, his legs caging you to the counter.

“Where's your bedroom?” He whispers, nudging the straps of your dress down.

“First door,” you begin to move, but he lifts you effortlessly, pressing you close to him. His thickness grinds into your pussy with every step he takes. Your hand tugging and combing through his soft hair, keeping his lips as close to you as possible.

“Good girl, don’t think. I’ll think for you, Beautiful,”

“Billy, put me down,” you protest, because it seems like the appropriate thing to do. You want the opposite, fuck you want to spend everyday being carried like this.

“In a sec,” he says, giving you a final kiss before setting your feet on the ground. He moves swiftly, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, drawing his knees in between your legs. His hands skirting up the outside of your legs, gathering your dress at his wrist. At the same time he nudges his legs further apart, spreading you in front of him.

Your finger latches onto the collar of his shirt, leaning down to capture his lips. Slowly you move your hands down to unbutton it and push it from his shoulders. His skin is perfect, he’s perfect. You almost begin to feel overwhelmed when you hear his voice right in your ear.

“Does this have a zip?” He asks, struggling to get the dress over your waist.

“Ah yeh,” you free your hands from his firm chest, reaching down to pull at the invisible zip on the side and lifting the dress over your head.

“Fuck,” Billy growls, eyeing the pink lace set you're wearing. The pretty lace lining your delicious curves.

“Hmm..” you keen at the sound, unable to control the tremble that vibrates through you.

“Fuck, you're beautiful,” he says, his fingers dancing along your waist dipping into the band of your pantie's, bringing you closer to him, "if you didn't know it was me, why this?" He asks, continuing along the delicate line before snapping the elastic, making you squeak. Your breasts bouncing right in his face.

“It makes me feel sexy, even if none gets to see it,”

“It fucking should,” he moves his hand up, lingering along the bottom of the balcony bra, “if I saw this I don't think we would've gotten through dinner,” he growls, leaning forward and taking a bite of your stomach.

“Billy!” you giggle his stubble tickling you and covering your skin in goosebumps.

“Yes Beautiful?” he stares up at you through his long lashes. Those beautiful dark eyes gleaming with the lights from the street, his hair slightly messy from your hands winding through it, his firm chest dazzling with the tiniest hint of sweat. He looks ethereal.

“How are you so handsome?” you say leaning down to kiss him, his hands snake around your back snapping your bra off. Slowly he removes it from you before discarding it on the ground.

“Lay down,” he says softly, patting the bed beside him, “I want to see,”

“See what?” you ask, he doesn’t give you a second chance. His hands grip under your thighs as he picks you up, flipping you so that you're lying underneath him in the centre of the bed.

“How you look when you touch yourself for me,” his lips almost on top of yours before he leans back. You feel your body begin to heat up, did he really want to see that? Why wouldn't he just-

“The next time I call, I want to be able to see it perfectly, know what it looks like in my head” he moves off you, lying down beside you so that he has the full view. His head resting on his hand, he watches you intently, “Go on Beautiful, show me how I make you feel.”

“Will you talk to me?” You ask shyly, wanting to bury your head in the covers, but unable to part your eye from his.

“Only if you keep looking at me like that,”

Your hands drift down your body, slowly peeling your panties from your legs and kicking them off. You begin to feel your thighs, around your stomach, your breast's, teasing yourself.

“Pat your pussy,” he says, his hands disappearing lower before you hear the clink of a belt. “Good girl, keep going,” You start slowly rubbing tiny circles around your clit, sweeping gently through your folds.

“Shit, you look amazing playing with yourself for me,” he huffs adjusting to kick his own pants off, “put a finger inside,”

“Fuck,” you moan, his eyes never leaving yours, making the fire lick at your insides. You feel like he's got you in some kind of trance. You focus on your finger slipping in and out of you, the soft press on your clit. Billy’s fingers ghosting along your waist, admiring the rise and fall of your chest and the squelch of your pussy as it grows wetter.

“Touch your tit,” your other hand palming at your breast and pinching at your nipple. “That's it, put on a show for me,”

“Holy shit,” you feel your insides begin to tingle at his words and his hands begin to touch you.

“Doesn’t it feel good when you stop thinking?”

“YeS,”

“I can think for both of us, for however long you want Beautiful. Would you like that?” he asks, licking a stripe down the valley of your breasts.

“Uh huh,”

“May I?” Billy asks, wrapping his lips over your nipple, his fingers creeping their way down towards your pussy.

“Yes, please, yes,” you pant, arching your ass off the bed to move him closer. His fingers cover yours, copying your motions a few times before pulling your hand out of the way. His soft lips wrap around your juice covered fingers, his tongue swirling as he licks all of you from them. Dragging them slowly through his lips, his teeth grazing along them before they pop from his mouth.

“I need more of you,” he shifts, bringing your pulsing pussy towards his face. His tongue dart’s out to lick you from asshole to clit, “Fuck, you taste amazing. Such a delicious treat for me.”

You moan his name as his mouth devours your dripping pussy. Your body begins to twitch, bucking so erratically that Billy has to hold you down. His tongue getting deeper inside you than your fingers ever had. Licking and sucking on your insides while your mind swirled, blood rushing from your brain down into your swollen clit. His lips wrap around it gently biting down, tugging and pulling at the chords that were about to make you fall apart.

“Fuck, your going to cum aren’t you,” he says, like he didn't know exactly what he was doing to you, going back go his ministrations.

“Yes, fuck, I wanna cum,” you cry, your hands gripping onto his wrists as they held you down.

“Do it,” he moans into your pussy, “cum for me baby, cover my face in your cum,”

His eyes sear into yours, watching your face contort. Your nails dig into his skin. You tried to hold on, tried to keep those little sparks of pleasure in, but the way he was looking at you- “Fuck. Just let go baby, stop thinking,” his fingers press deeper into your hip, “cum,”

“Bil-, FUCK,” you thrust your pussy into his mouth, his tongue buried in you and his strong fucking hands holding you down forcing you to lay there, your body writhing and shaking as your orgasm pulses through you. He doesn’t stop, not until you begin to beg, “It's too much please, I need-” with a soft kiss to your dripping pussy he relents, trailing his wet sloppy kisses up your torso, lavishing your breasts and sucking his way up your neck. Finally he landed on your trembling lips. You bit down on his tongue, sucking it into your mouth. Your tongue swirling around and tasting yourself on Billy, you had never tasted anything sweeter, more erotic and you think your taste will ever be satiated again.

“You ready for my cock baby?” He asks, in a sultry whisper. You glimpse down, noticing how red and swollen the head of his cock is. The thickness bobbing onto his hard stomach, hovering above your aching, dripping pussy.

“Ye-Yes,”

“You sure? Coz you’re not going to be satisfied with anyone else after me,” he says, not in the smug tone you expect, his voice almost breathless as he states it like it's a fact. Like he knows he's already ruined you and this will be the final nail in the coffin.

“Please, Billy,” you beg, “please fuck me,”

“Open those beautiful fuckin legs for me,” his palms grip your inner thighs, pressing them back until they're at your chest. You feel your pussy pulse with anticipation, your juices dripping onto the bed beneath you. The head of his cock slapping into your clit makes you moan loudly, sending shock's pleasure through your sensitive body. He slips his cock down through your lips, gathering your cum on his cock. His face contorts, squinting his eyes together trying to resist the urge to plunge right into you.

“You want me?” He asks teasingly. You nod, unable to find the words, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from whining. His head presses into you, before pulling back out, “Shit, you're so fuckin tight,” he presses back in, slowly burning and stretching you on his thick cock. His cock feel’s exquisite; you've never felt so full in your life. “You feel fucking amazing,” he moans, keeping his cock still inside you, “squeeze me baby,” your pussy obeys his command before you can even think, clenching down on him. You feel him throbbing against your ridges, the thick veins of his cock pressing into your walls.

His thrusts start slow, calculating every one, working hard to find that spot deep within you. Praising you and moaning while he does it. Your own mind blank, focusing instead on the feel of his cock, the sparks of pleasure pulsating through your whole body. “Harder, please, harder,” you cry, pulling him down into a feverish kiss.

His body covers you, bending you in half. His arms on either side of your head as he slams into you, his cock grinding before withdrawing each time, brushing along your clit and sending you spinning. “Keep making those noises,” he pants, “I fuckin love your sounds,”

He moves his hand, leaning up on one elbow, his eyes watching you as he slips a hand along your jaw, pulling you into another kiss before it slides down, holding your throat. “So good,” you cry, bringing your own hand up to his, pressing his fingers in at the sides.

"You looks so pretty taking me so deep," he moans, pressing in harder until your vision starts to blur. His cock keeps spearing in and out of you. “Fuck I'm so close, you feel so fucking good,” Tears start to form in your eyes as you feel your pussy start to spasm, “you gonna cum again?”

“So close,”

“Me to beautiful, shit your pussy-”

“Bite me,” you scream, his hand shifts around your throat, his thumb tilting your chin up as his lips connect with your pulse point. Testing the waters he nips at your throat, “harder than that,” you cry and you hear Billy let out a small giggle

“There's my girl, tell me how you want it baby,”

“Bite me like you mean it,” his teeth sink into your flesh, your pussy so close to shattering his cock as it grips him tight.

“Good girl,” he bites down again, searing pleasure just a second away, “my good girl,” he murmurs into your neck, “you’re gonna cum, cover my cock in your cum when I do it again,” He licks at the mark admiring how pretty your soft flesh looks with his teeth marks. “Then I'm gunna fill you up Beautiful,” his breath on your ear, “gunna fill you full of my cum and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,”

He latches onto your neck, his teeth grazing while his tongue licks at you, only stopping to tell you to cum over and over until your whole body is shaking, his fingers digging into your jaw, “that's it baby,” he pulls back to watch you, “give it to me, give me all your cum,” the sight of you writhing beneath him makes his legs shake and his bones fucking shiver.

“Tell me you want it,” his voice breathless, “tell me you want my cum inside you,”

“Yes, fuck fill me,” you pant, your words almost non coherent, to lost in your own pleasure.

“Fuck I'm gunna-,” he stutters his hips shaking as he pound’s his cum into you, pushing it deeper and deeper within you, “I don't want to stop,” he growls, “you feel so good,” his cock growing soft as he continued to fuck into you slowly.

Your fingers twine through his hair pulling his lips down to yours, his body pressing you. The heaviness pressing you into the mattress beneath him, while your lips remained joined, “That was-” you pant, your breath still lost.

“Amazing,” he finishes your sentence, his hand dusting along your cheek.

“Better than I imagined,” you sigh.

“Not me. I knew you'd be perfect.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you joke, trying to ease the awkward afterness.

“No,” he lifts your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eyes, “I really don’t”

“What do we do now?”

“We’re going to have a rest, then if you feel up for it. We could go for round 2?”

“Again?” raising your eyebrow at him, his thumb brushing over your lip.

“Would you like that?”

“Yes, please,”

Tags:

@nycophiliia @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @chatnain

[scuttling]

Long Time Coming

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.

The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.

You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.

The new suit further complicates things.

“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.

God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.

“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…

JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.

“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”

For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.

“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.

You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.

It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.

You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.

God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.

Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.

“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”

You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.

“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.

“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.

The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.

“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.

Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.

“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”

“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”

There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.

“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”

“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.

You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.

JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.

Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.

He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.

He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.

There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.

When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.

While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.

The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.

“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.

He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.

It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.

“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if…” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.

“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.

You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.

He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.

“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”

“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.

“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.

You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.

“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”

“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”

“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”

“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.

“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”

“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.

“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”

The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.

It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.

“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.

You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.

By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.

The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.

The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.

“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.

“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.

“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.

“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.

“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.

He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.

“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”

“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.

“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”

You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.

“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.

Oh fucking fuck.

“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.

“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.

He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.

“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.

“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.

“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”

You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.

“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”

He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.

“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.

“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.

You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.

Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.

“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.

You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.

For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.

“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”

You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.

“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”

“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.

“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.

You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.

“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.

“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.

“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”

“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”

“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”

“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”

He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.

He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.

You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.

“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.

“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.

“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.

Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.

Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!

JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.

Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!

Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.

You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.

Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.

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