#oKAY SO. in the original cover she is facing fully away. that was the intention. the vision if you will. BUT.

[kvroii]

Book Divider (3/3) - Poison World

[sluttywonwoo]

study buddies || k.mg x reader

Pairing: frat!mingyu x fem reader 

Summary: studying for midterms with the guy you’re hooking up with goes exactly how you’d expect

Warnings: swearing, light smut (18+)

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: reworked this old blurb originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark ) for my gf’s birthday :)) happy birthday @hotgirlmingyu

Masterlist

You woke up to banging on your apartment door. Groaning, you rolled over to check your phone and saw that it was six am. You pushed yourself up and out of bed and padded into the kitchen to answer the door. You were surprised the relentless knocking hadn’t woken up your roommate, but she was a pretty heavy sleeper.

You yanked the door open to see Mingyu with a handful of textbooks. You squinted at him in confusion, wondering if you were seeing things. Mingyu had never been to your place before, you didn’t even know he knew where you lived.

His appearance startled you a bit. His hair was messy where it was usually slicked back or styled and he was wearing gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him in anything other than khakis and a douchey printed shirt.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, rubbing your eyes.

He frowned. “You said we should study for midterms together.”

You thought back to the last time you’d seen Mingyu. You couldn’t remember saying anything like that.

“Was I drunk?”

“Probably.”

“So why are you here?”

“To study. You agreed that we could help each other out.”

“Mingyu, I don’t even remember agreeing to that.”

“Well I’m already here,” he said and pushed past you into your apartment.

“Seriously? It’s Saturday.”

“Yeah, and midterms are next week.”

“Couldn’t you have waited until the sun was up?” you grumbled, mostly to yourself and shut the door behind him.

“We’ve got a lot of material to cover.”

You cursed under your breath as you watched him set up at your kitchen table, knowing you should probably study even though you desperately wanted to go back to bed.

You and Mingyu had met at a party at his fraternity and woke up the next morning tangled in the sheets of his bed. To say it was awkward would have been an understatement. You didn’t think you’d ever see him again, but to your horror, you saw him in your stats lecture on Monday and your mythology class on Thursday. This was a pretty big university. Why did the same asshole have to be in two of your classes?

As much as it annoyed you, you couldn’t stop thinking about Mingyu, and apparently, he was having a similar dilemma because every time you went out he seemed to be there, and every time you hooked up.

That was the extent of your relationship, though. You didn’t even speak to each other in class or at parties. The only time you talked was behind closed doors when one or both of you was naked. Even then you kept your guard up because you refused to let yourself fall for a frat boy with commitment issues who never wanted to be seen with the same girl twice. A boy who wouldn’t even talk to you in public.

But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart fluttered when he said your name as he was about to cum, or the way his lips felt against yours. He could be a total dick, but you’d also seen a softer side of him that he didn’t show many people. You forced yourself to forget about that side. It was easier that way.

“Okay, what are we starting with?” you asked with a sigh.

“We have the stats exam first, we should work on that.”

You made a face. Statistics was the harder out of the two for you. In fact, it was the hardest class you were taking this semester.

“I can’t believe I’m doing math before seven am.”

“You won’t be complaining when you ace the midterm,” he quipped, already working on a practice worksheet.

You watched him solve problems like he was checking items off a list. You knew he was good at statistics, but you didn’t know he was that good. Figures, a guy like him was good at pretty much everything. Everything except mythology apparently, because once you’d switched to that he was flustered and frustrated. You would quiz him on myths only for him to get every single question wrong.

“Mingyu, did you even read any of these?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Yes, y/n, I read every one. How do you think I passed all the reading quizzes?”

“Cheating?” it slipped out before you could stop it and Mingyu gave you a hard glare. You held up your hands defensively. “Just a joke.”

“I don’t think it was.” He licked his lips. “But for what it’s worth I read them all. I just can’t keep them straight.”

You sighed. You felt bad, but you were getting frustrated too. And not just because Mingyu wasn’t grasping the myths. This was the longest you’d ever spent together (at least while you were awake) and you hadn’t even had sex. He just smelled so nice and looked so cute when he was concentrating that you couldn’t help feeling a little impatient. You had been at it for hours, you thought you would’ve done it at least once by now. But Mingyu was more serious about studying than you thought. It was kind of admirable and kind of annoying.

“Okay well reread through the Egyptian myths and I’ll quiz you again.”

“Alright.”

He pulled out his reading packet and flipped to the section you took out your phone and scrolled through social media mindlessly as he read, but it quickly got boring. You wished Mingyu would take a break so he could rail you. He was still reading intently, but you figured a little distraction couldn’t hurt.

You started by taking your hair down from your bun and shaking it out so that it fell around your shoulders. You knew your shampoo drove Mingyu crazy and hoped it would have an effect on him today. He shifted his seat, but didn’t look up from the packet. Next, you leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder. You’d never done something so domestic like this with Mingyu, but it seemed to work because he cleared his throat and adjusted his sweatpants.

“You know you could be working on math.”

You shrugged. “We already did stats for hours today. I think I’ll jump off a bridge if I look at one more differential equation.”

He fell silent and tried focusing back onto the reading, but you moved your hand to his thigh and kept it there as you continued to through twitter, not even reading what was on your screen.

“Stop that,” Mingyu muttered, making you jump a little.

“Why?”

“Fuck, because you’re distracting me. You look too hot right now.”

“I’m wearing pajamas.”

“I really don’t care. You still look hot and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now.”

“Well what’s stopping you?” you asked lowly and nipped at his ear.

“Need to finish this,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“I can’t convince you to take a break?” You moved the hand on his leg up so that you were cupping him over his pants.

He shook his head. “After.”

You leaned over and kissed his neck, then his jaw, and felt him get hard under your hand. “If I have to stop what I’m doing you won’t be able to walk for the next week.”

“That sounds like more of a motivator than a deterrent,” you admitted. “I’ll suck you off,” you offered and hooked your thumb in the waistband of his sweats, trying to bribe him.

“If you let me finish I’ll eat you out,” he countered.

You straightened up. It sounded like a pretty good deal.

“Fine.”

A few minutes passed in silence and you were waiting patiently, typing up a rough draft of an essay you had due for another class when Mingyu groaned.

“What?” you asked, wondering if he needed help.

“Can you please stop that?”

“Stop what? I’m literally doing nothing.” You were genuinely confused now.

“Just- I don’t know you’re making it so hard to concentrate.”

“Am I making it hard?” You smirked.

“Very funny.”

“Would it help if I put a paper bag over my head?”

“Probably.”

“Come on, keep reading about Osiris.”

“I don’t want to read about Osiris anymore, he’s a dick.”

“The faster you finish the faster you can get off.”

“I thought you didn’t want to wait,” Mingyu pointed out, trying to deflect.

“I think I recall something about you going down on me if I let you finish reading.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, but didn’t turn back to the book. Instead, he continued to gaze at you with those big brown eyes. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“What?” You felt your cheeks get warm.

“I just really want to kiss you right now.”

You smiled and raised your chin, challenging him. “Then do it.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You closed your eyes and kissed him back, savoring the moment.

When you pulled away, Mingyu’s eyes were dark with want and you could see that he was now fully hard in his sweatpants.

“How about I eat you out now anyway?” He suggested, leaning forward to kiss your neck.

You moaned and brought your hands to his hair.

“You trying to bribe me?”

“Is it working?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Mingyu stood and picked you up from your chair. You wrapped your legs around his waist again. He pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth and smirked.

“Promise you’ll finish studying after?” you asked.

He considered it. “Does what we’re about to do count as studying mythology? Because it’s going to be legendary.”

You scrunched up your face in distaste. “No, I take it back. Put me down.”

Mingyu grinned. “Hey! You know no ones gives it to you as good as I do.”

“That confident are you?”

His grin turned into a smirk. “Is that a challenge?”

lmk what you think i always appreciated feedback!!

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[littlemissnoname13]

hi could you please make a part two to feeling colors, i LOVED your writing in it. no rush :))

Hiii nonnie! 💕 I did end up writing a second part for the fic after all. I hope you like it as much as the first. X

Feeling Colours - Part Two

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Word count: 2500 give or take

Summary: Draco’s feelings for the reader start to grow

Warnings: fluff, excessive drinking, mentions of throwing up, kissing, nothing explicit, Draco being a softie (lmk if this needs more warnings)

Masterlist | Part One 

Your eyes fluttered open to find Draco Malfoy sitting on a chair next to you, breathing quietly like sleep was finally hitting him. Ruffled blond strands of hair fell over his weary eyes and he’d used his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket. 

Your first instinct was to silently lift up your covers and check if your clothes were still intact and thank Merlin they were. 

“Have a little faith Y/n.” Draco grumbled, startling you in the process as he struggled to lift himself into a more comfortable position. “I would never take advantage of a drunk girl.”

Fragments of the previous night came back to you when you heard him say that. 

The party, the burn of the booze, the dust-filled broom closet, the throwing up, the taste of soup and the strong and sturdy arms of the boy now looking at you with a sheepish grin on his face.

You eased at the sight of his smile. There came a certain type of comfort after someone had seen you throwing your guts up. 

“Thank you for last night Draco.”

“Like I said before Miss raging alcoholic, Don’t make a habit of it.” He let out a small yawn and started to smooth out his hair but much to his dismay, the strands refused to cooperate. 

You couldn't help but laugh at the displeased look on his face. “Here, let me—”

“NO. I absolutely refuse to let you touch my hair.” He protested, grabbing both your wrists before your fingers could make contact with his precious hair. 

“Come on Malfoy.” You pleaded, now fully out of bed and trying to break free from his hands. “I swear I can fix it for you.”

“Nope.” He said firmly as he tried his hardest to maintain a straight face. “Stop it—No please not the sides—no..”

“Please, just a bit more...ah okay….there we go.”

“Haven’t you done enough Hufflepuff?!”

“Oh. that rhymed.” You laughed, still touching his hair when the two of you accidently tumbled onto the chair he was originally sleeping on. 

Draco was agile in cushioning your fall with one of his hands balancing himself on the armrest and one hand wrapped around your waist.

It was only the second time he’d saved you from falling and you were already getting used to it. 

Something inside of you was immediately hoping that Draco would be there to break your fall for a third time too. 

It felt good with him.

It felt safe with him.

~~~

Alone at the school courtyard in the afternoon of the next day, Draco sat down in a far corner to rearrange his cluttered thoughts about you into tidy little compartments in his brain. 

It should have been easy for him. He was a natural occlumens after all.

But for some bizarre reason, he couldn't find a way to erase your name, the sound of your voice and your scent that was slowly dominating all four lobes of his brain and all four chambers of his heart. 

Even with the sun still in the sky, the occasional gust of wind made his hands turn cold so he instinctively shoved his hands into his blazer pocket to warm up. 

It was only then that he realised that he’d completely forgotten to give your locket back to you. 

~~~

A few days had now passed and Draco had gotten several opportunities to give your necklace back to you. 

First it was at the great hall.

He watched you intently from the Slytherin table, waiting for the perfect opportunity to talk to you while you nibbled on a cupcake.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he watched you lick the powdery pink frosting off your Peony lips.

He wasn’t all that fond of those cupcakes you were eating but he’d have done anything for a taste of the frosting from your lips. 

Before he could even manage to walk over to you, you stood up and walked away with your friends.

When you were close to the exit however, you paused and turned towards the Slytherin table to give him a tiny smile.

He quickly reached into his pocket to look at the locket, it was the exact pink shade of the frosting. 

~~~

The second time he tried to return it was at Potions class. 

Theo had so graciously agreed to switch partners with Draco and Snape did not seem to mind as long as the potions were brewed right. 

“Crush the petals as best you can before dropping them into the cauldron.” Snape instructed and you quickly grabbed a fistfull of rose petals. 

Draco watched in awe as you crushed rose petals in your hands, releasing the floral aroma into the atmosphere. The scent caught onto clothes and a flush crept onto his face.

“Well, are you going to help me, Malfoy?”

Draco silently copied your motion and stirred the cauldron till the potion was simmering and ready.

Returning your locket in the middle of Severus’s class did not seem like a smart idea so he decided to come up with a better one. 

“We are having another party in the dungeons on Friday. You should come and bring Abott if you’d like.”  Draco shrugged it off like it was the most casual thing ever. 

“Will there be elf made wine?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he let out a rather loud scoff earning the attention of the sulky potion’s master.

“Malfoy, Y/l/n.” Snape called out, looking as unimpressed as ever. “Detention.Saturday.”

“Incorrigible.” Draco muttered and you nudged him in the rib with your elbow. 

“Two Saturdays.” Snape said, before dismissing the entire class. 

On his way out, Draco discreetly sneaked a peak of the necklace in his pocket because he already knew what colour it was going to be. 

It was the exact same pink of the rose petals you were crushing. 

~~~

Two days had gone by since potions class and Draco was no longer fazed when the necklace emulated the same shades of pink from the bubblegum you were blowing or the fuschia ribbon in your hair. 

Draco also didn’t think it was necessary to make another attempt to return your necklace until Friday.

He already had a lot of things preoccupying his mind like actually planning the party. 

There had been no Slytherin Party planned for Friday before Draco invited you and now, He was getting his friends to help him arrange one. 

Crabbe and Goyle were tasked with getting more liquor,  Blaise and Theo were responsible for music and food while Draco was responsible with the overall logistics like silencing charms and getting the word of the party out. 

“All this for a girl.” Blaise mocked. Theo took this moment to whisper something to Crabbe who then whispered something to Goyle. 

“Care to say it out loud, Nott?” Draco seethed as he watched his friends clutch their stomachs and laugh out loud. 

“Theo called you a simp.” A teary eyed Goyle spluttered. 

“A what now?”

~~~

Friday’s party topped the previous one. 

More people, A wider selection of liquor, wine varietals, good food and music blasting so loud that the floors were vibrating. 

As per usual, Hannah had already disappeared into some dark little corner with her paramour leaving you all alone with a group of Slytherin girls. 

“I love your dress!” Exclaimed a tipsy looking Daphne Greengrass who herself was wearing a gorgeous turquoise number. 

“Thank you.” You replied, giving her your most polite and friendly smile. 

“Come now, let's go and dance already.” Pansy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at the interaction. Although it wasn’t super obvious, you sensed that Pansy wasn’t too pleased to have you there. 

Daphne intertwined her hands to yours and pulled you into the dancefloor with herself, Pansy Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode. 

Daphne’s surprisingly amiable nature took you by surprise but you decided to go with it. It was a party after all. 

When she placed her hands on your shoulders, you mirrored. When she swayed her hips, so did you. 

“He can't stop staring at you now, can he?” Daphne shouted into your ear over the music as you both continued to dance together. 

“I’m sorry who?” You shouted back. 

“Malfoy.” Daphne giggled. “ He’s been watching you all night actually. Why do you think he hosted this party in the first place?”

You stole a quick glance at Draco when no one was looking. He was sipping on a glass of whisky and watching you from a distance.

He had ditched his all black attire for a white button down shirt. The top two buttons were undone and his hair had a sort of laid back look to it

“See?” Daphne shouted again. “Hasn’t even taken his eyes off you once. It's driving Pansy nuts.”

Just to confirm if Daphne was in fact telling the truth, you tilted your head to the side to get a bitter view of him and the minute you did, your eyes met with his.

Heat spread all across your cheeks and he raised his glass to you as an acknowledgement before quickly turning away. 

After that, it was just an intense and tactical little gambit of who caught who staring. 

He covertly watched you sway your hips and you secretly noticed the way he tapped his fingertips on the glass he was holding.

Both of you refused to relent to whatever game this was up until the point where he grabbed a bottle of fire whisky and started to walk away. 

You didn't even need to think twice about where he was headed. 

“Go on.” Daphne nudged encouragingly.

~~~

Draco pulled the closet door open and stepped inside with a smile playing at his lips.

The last time he was there, he was introduced to you, your scent, your smile, your eyes. 

Before that night in the closet, he took colours at their face value. They were nothing more than visual representations of light—what amount, what hue, what saturation.

It was strange how things had changed for him. 

Not only did you make him see colours in a whole new light, you made him feel them, you made him hear them.

As Draco settled down with his drink, he saw the door creak open. 

It was still dark but he could already tell that it was you by the scent of your perfume. Oh, he could never ever forget that aroma even if he tried. 

Lumos. 

Draco held his wand in front of him and allowed himself to turn to his side to get a better view of you. 

Never had he ever seen someone glow the way you did under the lumos charm. The radiance in your eyes, the pearlescence of your skin and the curvature of your lips made him lightheaded.

“I feel like this closet is going to be a recurring thing for us huh?” You beamed at him and he found himself swooning. 

Salazar Slytherin. Nott was right. He was a simp.

“I guess so.” Draco quickly answered, Blaming this dizziness on the lack of ventilation while taking a big sip of his drink. 

“I don’t mind.” You said and twisted open the bottle of wine you’d brought with you. 

“Don’t tell me you brought another bottle of that god awful wine in here.”

 “It’s actually not that bad and it gets you drunk way quicker.” You shrugged. 

“Why do I feel like I might have to walk you to your dorm again?” 

He watched you take a long slow sip of wine and couldn’t help himself from noting that your lips were slowly getting stained red with the fruity nectar. 

“Might?” You shook your head. “Sorry to break it to you, but this wine is going to catch up with me soon.” 

Draco jokingly palmed his face, earning a laugh from you. It seemed like the perfect time to hand you your lost possession back. 

“Atleast, I’ll know when you are going to be sick though.” Draco said as he fished for the locket in his pocket. 

“How come?” 

“Because of this.” He explained, holding the necklace out. “I’m sorry I should have given it back sooner.” 

“That’s okay.” You murmured softly and pushed your hair away from your neck and he instantly took this as a cue to drape the necklace back to where it belonged. 

“Ah…there you go.” He whispered into your ear before shifting back to look at the gem. 

Draco expected it to be pink but to his astonishment, the gem had already turned a vibrant red. 

A new colour.

He could see red in the apples of your cheeks.

He could feel red pumping through his veins and hear red in the way his heart was rapidly beating. 

 “It’s red.” You commented and he slowly nodded. 

Even though he knew what red was for him, he needed to hear your interpretation before making his next move. 

“What does red mean to you y/n?” 

“To me, well…..red represents um..passion, something fiery, something that burns bright, leaves you breathless.” You whispered looking as if you were feeling almost as breathless as him. 

Draco swallowed hard when he noticed just how close your face was to his. 

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?” 

“If I kissed you right now, would you kiss me back?”

He noticed that your breathing was progressively getting shorter. You looked startled at his sudden question but held his gaze nonetheless. 

“I guess you’ll have to see for yourself, Draco.”

He couldn’t help but let out a hoarse chuckle before pressing his forehead to yours. “Is that an invitation hm?” 

You didn’t say a word but the deepening red color of your necklace gave everything away. 

Any remaining doubt in his mind went away when he felt you caress his cheeks with your cold hands. 

He gently let his fingers slip into your hair as he closed the distance between your lips. 

The kiss was reminiscent of the rush of first love. The innocence, the giggles. 

The kiss paid homage that perfumed night in the broom closet that had started it all. 

The kiss was bleeding, seeping, trickling In various shades of red and he was drinking every drop. 

Draco Malfoy could finally tell what the colour red tasted like. 

It tasted like your wine stained lips. 

He backed away and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you gave him a shy smile in return. 

~~~

The two of you spent the remainder of the party inside the closet. 

Drinking, talking, laughing and more kissing.

So much kissing. 

“Alright y/n, let’s get you to your room now shall we?” Draco sighed when he noticed that you were getting more and more inebriated by the minute. “Come on.” 

You struggled to step out of the closet and almost tripped on your own two drunken feet.

Almost. 

“As if I’m going to let you fall face first.” He mumbled to himself before lifting you up in his arms. 

You let out a small laugh before looking up at him. 

“Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you said to not make a habit of this but unfortunately for you, I already have.” 

FIN. 

~~~

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vi

[hex-obsession]

Silver Lining- Three

word count- 2,389

content warning- language, sexual acts (potentially rough)

____________________________________________

Nothing like getting pulled out of a deep sleep to go repair bulky, strident machinery and run, literally, for your life. You were, physically and mentally, in a fog. Worn out from the emotional runaround mere hours ago, you weren’t your usual bubbly self. To make matters worse, Leon was here and saw the discomfort on your face. Who wouldn’t? You were always bad at masking your feelings.

“Everything okay y/n?” Chills trickled through your ears and down the back of your neck at the soothing hum of his voice. It was too early for this, but at least you were fully awake now.

“Y-yeah, just tired.” Your hand defensively moves to your other arm, sending him the opposite message of ‘I’m fine’. Leon tenderly places his hand over yours, ducking slightly to be eye level with you. Instead of speaking, you just stare back at him blankly. Mind racing yet empty, you're completely lost for words. You forgot how to even speak, let alone move your tongue. Finally, your sense of self-preservation kicks in and you blurt out “I’m fine, really. Just in a haze, I guess. Really tired.” You force a smile, praying he buys it, or at least takes it as a hint not to pry. He’s still staring at you, studying your face and body language. This man was far too perceptive to fall for a lie that poorly executed. Not wanting to interrogate you and possibly upset you further, he let it go. His face relaxed, the puzzled, disapproving expression now replaced by one of empathy and concern.

“If there’s something on your mind, please tell me when you’re ready.” He extends his other arm and gently pulls you toward him, which you do not resist. You sheepishly wrap your arms around him, worried he might feel the pounding in your chest and return to questioning you. You couldn’t help but melt in his arms, which did help calm your nerves some. Consoling each other (let’s be real, it was always him consoling you) was no new feat. His uniform was rough on your cheek, a mix of harsh fabric and dried blood, but you didn’t mind. With your head turned, resting on his chest, you saw Jeff and Laurie coming closer. As much as you wanted to stay in this exact spot forever, you were grateful to direct Leon’s attention to anything other than you long enough to compose yourself. Hands eager to touch him longer, you lovingly rub his back and give his sides a little squeeze before releasing him.

“Sorry, hope we didn’t interrupt anything,” Laurie chimes innocently.

Cheeks ablaze, you jump to defend yourself. “No you’re fine! I’m just feeling a tad under the weather and Leon is a great friend.” You smile, eyes darting back to him only long enough to see he’s staring at you. Fuck, fuck, your face was on fire. Back on Laurie, she ever so slightly squints, so quickly you would’ve missed it if you weren’t excruciatingly observant. Her lips curl at the edges. She knows. You look back to Leon, who is still staring at you. Shit, fuck. You look to your left trying to avoid everyone's gaze. Her dainty hands latch onto you, pulling you into a hug. You stumble slightly, intoxicated by nervousness.

“Oh, sorry love.” She tilts her head back just enough for her mouth to line up with your ear. “Do it.” Her voice is heavy and breathy. It almost startles you, and a nervous chuckle escapes you.

“Th-thanks Laurie. Yeah, I just had a weird dream and I’m feeling really, uh, off.”

Heart racing, you thought it might be trying to escape, the force with which it was beating. You push your hair away from your face, hoping it would make breathing less labored when, you only made it easier to see how flustered you were. A final glance at Leon confirms he is indeed still staring. You’d never been thankful for the entity taking you before, but there’s a first time for everything. The fog surrounds you and the trial ensues, scattering you across the map. Completely disregarding everything other than your feelings, you shake your head and stretch your arms above you. They come down, folding around your head and you stare at the lockers in front of you, eyes out of focus; not actually taking in what you were looking at. A few deep breaths later, you pull yourself together enough to move your feet, one in front of the other. Midwich Elementary School; possibly your favorite of all the entity’s destinations. You recognized your surroundings. This was the locker room. Leaving the second floor was your first goal. As you entered the hallway, a bright light flickered in your face. At the end of the hall, Jeff pointed to the room to his right. You jogged over to him, said brief hellos, and knelt down to work on the repairs together. Shortly thereafter, with little remaining progress, a faint heartbeat echoed in your ears. You peered around the broken wall; no sign of the killer. The generator dings to life and you decide to split up to cover more ground. Jeff drops through a hole in the bathroom across the hall, leading you to divert from your original plan and head toward the other upstairs classrooms. As you near the stairwell, your heartrate increases. Not from the unbearable sexual tension you had for Leon, but the killer was close. You see nothing down the hall to your left, which meant the killer was below you. You sprint ahead, trying to make as little noise as possible. To your dismay, you were detected. Feet heavy on the ground, your footsteps echoed around you. You tripped on something but were far too agile to lose your balance, and never fell. Before rounding the corner, you look behind you to see what terror you were up against this time. A human figure with a red stain; the Legion. Extremely misleading the first time you ran into them. Extremely. You dart left, breaking line of sight. The chemistry lab is your best bet. Dropping through the floor will most likely get him off your trail. To prevent leaving scratch marks, you slow to a brisk walk. Just as you thought you would evade the killer, something grabs you and you lurch backward. Before you could scream, a hand covers your mouth. Leon spins you around to face him and pulls you close. The two of you are pressed tightly together between lockers and a wall. Heart racing, for multiple reasons, you stare at the small space where the floor is visible. Confused, the red light was bouncing around, taunting you. All that was on your mind was the heat radiating from all the areas your bodies were touching. The sudden realization that Leon had his arms around you, protecting you, made you jerk your head back to look at him. His eyes, normally brooding, were instead intently locked onto you with, was that, adoration? You didn’t want to get the wrong idea, or make assumptions rooted in your own feelings. A gen on the other side of the school is completed, and you see the Legion vault a window into the courtyard, leaving the two of you alone in the hall. Although the killer was nowhere near you, your heart was racing, painfully. You were agonizingly aware of the recurring flush that filled your face. You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes, so you focused on his neck instead. So smooth and inviting. Every fiber of your being wanted to kiss it and bite it and moan his name into it. Your legs felt as if they would give way beneath you at any moment. You straightened your back to put more pressure on the wall behind you, allowing you to bend your legs slightly to prevent them from buckling under you. He had put himself slightly to your left as to

make sure he could block you from any attacks, if need be. If either of you moved forward so much as an inch, your legs would begin lacing together. Noticing how close your hips were to his sent a rush of heat to your crotch. Sick with suspense, you finally force yourself to look up. Before meeting his eyes, you analyze his lips. You craved them on your own. Your tongue on his; tasting each other.

“Y/n…” You’d never been turned on by your own name before. It was less your name and more the way it eased out of his mouth. Longing, impatient. Watching his lips emit your name made you crazed. You bit your bottom lip, wishing it were him biting it instead. Almost gasping for air, you take a deep breath and look into his eyes. Chills breeze over your body like a crisp fall evening. Muscles so weak you could barely move, you ease your hands around his waist, locking your fingers behind him. Your desire for him was borderline primitive at this point. If given the chance to pull him into one of the classrooms and fuck him right there on one of the desks, you’d take it without contemplation. Hell, you might initiate it in a second. Your pussy was throbbing, begging for him. You shifted your legs again, intertwining them completely. The pressure of his thigh on your clit sent electric chills through your legs to your toes. A short, pleased sigh escaping you drew his attention. His head eased forward slowly, sealing the distance between the two of you. His nose grazed yours and you gently nudged into it. You were panting in his face, which you would come to feel embarrassed about later. He continued forward until you felt his lips brush against yours. It tickled in the most satisfying way possible, like a flower against velvet.

“Yes,” you whispered against his lips, and just like that, every worry or care in the world vanished.

Softly, he pressed his lips to yours. It was electric to say the bare minimum. You took a staggered breath causing him to pull away. Your eyes shot open, darting wildly between his facial features, searching for any indication of regret. Instead, he places a hand on your cheek and pulls you into him. This time your lips met, they were ravenous. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth and bite down. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to cause him to let out a low rumbling moan into your mouth which sent you over the edge. Your non-dominant hand leaves his back and latches onto his gorgeous blonde hair. It was so soft in your fingers, like silk. You tilted your head and ran your tongue across the lip you still had trapped between your teeth. You released it which allowed Leon to open his mouth against yours and slide his tongue inside. Oh God, he tasted better than you’d imagined. Fleshy yet almost sweet, like the faintest hint of cinnamon. Your head was spinning and you felt light-headed from the stimulation (and the fact there was a good amount of blood in the lower half of your body). You were fixated on the fact that his saliva was in your mouth. You’d end up swallowing it, and vice versa. Your grip on his hair tightened and you let out a faint whimper. The combination made him growl with pleasure. His hands roamed your body briefly, coming to a stop at your waist. Seemingly effortlessly, he bent forward slightly, just enough to put his hands directly under your ass and prop you up against the wall, tongues still tangled. You wrapped your legs around him, wanting him to be even closer. You wanted, needed, him inside you. Given the new position, you could feel his engorged cock between your legs. You were almost- almost- concerned by the size of it. From what you could feel, he was well endowed. The hand on his back lowered to his ass cheek, which you graciously squeezed. You pulled him forward into you, just slightly at first, increasing the pressure of his bulge on you. You released and did it again. In any normal situation, you’d have never made a grown, fully clothed man grind on you like a horny pubescent boy, but these feelings for him had been pent up so long that they mutated from a sweet crush to full blown irrefutable lust. He caught on to what you were doing and abruptly removed his tongue from your mouth, leaving you confused and wanting all the more. His left hand came up to your chin and turned your head to the side, allowing him to press his lips to your ear.

Barely above a whisper, just a susurration, “You want me that bad, huh?” he taunted you. You were incapable of feeling embarrassment at the moment, brain flooded with desire. The warmth of his breath in your ear made you salivate. In a different setting, you would have begged to choke on his dick right now.

“Yeah? So what?” was the best retaliation you could think of in the moment. He chuckled; lips still pressed to your ear. The hand on your cheek traced your jaw and slid down to your neck. His slender, graceful fingers wrapped around your throat and gave it an intoxicating squeeze. Just hard enough to make you gasp but not hurt.

“I want to hear you beg for me,” his deep, warm voice filling your ear.

Your eyes shut and you tilt your head back in utter bliss, letting out a satisfied moan. He responded by nibbling your earlobe, which made you curse delightedly under your breath. Wanting to look at his irresistible face, you opened your eyes. Only, instead, you were greeted by eight beady black eyes peering down at you.

Snapping out of your drunken state, you blurt, “Oh fuck, Leon, the birds.”

He looks up to them with resentment and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Can we pick this up again later?” Ocean eyes begging you.

“You bet your fucking ass we’re picking this up later,” you demand before crashing your lips into his once more. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here before the whole flock follows us.”

____________________________________________

Silver Lining masterlist

[shorkbrian]

Resigned

(What to expect - pseudoincest, NSFW, noncon, dubcon. Creampie, sharing a hoe w ur bro (threesome), tummy bulge. IDK how to tag I know I’m sorry)

“You didn’t even make her cum.”

Kirishima was whining at Bakugou, thick fingers carding through your hair as your head rested against his thigh.

You were splayed out on the bed on your knees, Katsuki gripping you by the elbows, face pushed up against Kirishima’s rock-hard cock.

The original intent had been a blowjob, the redhead cooing at you as he coaxed you to take more and more of his length into your mouth, his thumbs hooked between your teeth and hardened so you couldn’t bite down on him.

That plan had quickly fallen apart as soon as Bakugou had started fucking you, brain going numb, the cock pistoning into you occupying your thoughts to the point where you could do nothing more than pant against Kiri’s length.

“So fucking what? ‘S not my job.” Bakugou pulled out of your cunt with a squelch, a sharp sting across your rear making you clench down with a gasp, trapping his cum inside.

“Ha, look at that. Greedy little slut, wanna keep it all inside, dont’cha?” The blonde taunted, delivering another quick smack to your ass.

When Bakugou let go of your other elbow, you further sagged against Kirishima’s naked thigh, sweat dampening your forehead.

The world started shifting, Kiri manhandling you up into his lap until you were straddling him, face-to-face with the redhead.

“Hey, hey there sweetie. Doin’ okay?”

No, no you weren’t.

“You looked so tasty, taking Bakugou’s cock like that. Panting up against my dick, you made me so hard, see?” Your attention was directed to the length resting up against your tummy, reaching your bellybutton.

He was hard, wet, leaking precum from the dark red tip, pearly drops spilling over his foreskin and rolling down to his balls.

Kirishima gave you a quick kiss, a rush of his soft lips against yours. Then you were being lifted by his strong arms gripping your waist, settled onto the head of his cock.

“Oh, oh-!” You sobbed, feeling the tip stretch you out.

The redhead was significantly thicker than his blonde counterpart, longer and with a hefty girth. Just being lowered towards his thighs had your stomach clenching, hands frantically scrabbling at his forearms as you pleaded for him to slow down.

“No, oh god, look at that.” Kiri threw his head back, shutting his eyes tight, but quickly forced himself to look forward again, focusing on the little bulge appearing in your lower abdomen. “Fuck, Bakugou, c’mere.”

Bakugou craned his head, shifting his attention from taking a swig of water so he could see what Kirishima was getting worked up about. When he caught sight of one of the redheads hands fluttering over your stomach, dancing around the rapidly-growing bump, Bakugou almost choked on his water.

“Holy shit, that’s hot. What the fuck? You fucking monster, don’t rip her in half.”

“I-I won’t, god, she’s so tight-!” 

While Bakugou had to maneuver his hips, find a good angle to press into your sweet spot, Kirishima didn’t have to go through such troubles.

He was pressing against all of your most sensitive spots without even trying.

You were trembling in his hold, biting down around one hand to keep your cries muffled, your other hand anchoring yourself by holding onto the headboard behind Kirishima’s head.

And then you were fully seated, ass flush against Kirishima’s hairy thighs.

Both of you paused, taking big, deep breaths. You, trying to maintain what little composure you had left, and Kirishima, trying not to cum right then and there.

“Look at you, haa, you’re-you’re incredible.”

“Taking him like a champ.” Bakugou interjected, clapping a heavy hand down onto your shoulder. The movement pushed you further down, made you jolt a little, grinding the heavy cock deeper. “Thought you’d be a lil’ pussy about it, cry and shit.”

“You need to be nicer to your sister Bakugou, damn.”

“Stepsister, asshole. And don’t tell me what to fucking do, you just sit there and be grateful I’m letting your hulk-hands near her.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes. He was done talking.

A smooth roll of his hips, and you were shaking in his arms, biting down harder on your hand.

“Fuck, oh, you’re so good, oh my god.” The redhead was staring at your stomach, watching the bump in your tummy appear and disappear on each rocking thrust.

“Mmhh, Kiri, ffhu-please!” Half of you was begging him to stop, to slow down, to pull out. The other half of you was begging to cum, pleasure tingling up your spine as he filled you so full.

Kiri responded as he saw fit, placing his feet flat on the bed, scooting down a little until he was laying down before loosing his restraint.

He fucked you like an animal, fast and messy and quick, his thighs slapping against the meat of your ass as he drove up into you, eyes wandering over your body. Kirishima couldn’t decide where to look, whether at your bulging tummy, your fucked-out face, or your bouncing tits.

“You feel so good! So good, fuck, mm-” Kiri was the one panting now, mouth falling slack as his nerves lit up, something coiling hot and heavy in his gut, building as he thrust into your warmth.

Your orgasm hit you out of nowhere, body clenching down, doubling over, hand falling from where you were holding yourself up as you slumped against the beefy redhead, incoherent words falling from your mouth. You didn’t know what you were saying, world swirling dizzily around you, butterflies erupting in your stomach, trailing into your arms and legs.

Everything felt so intense, and Kirishima wasn’t stopping.

Still slumped against his shoulder, you felt your legs twitching, cunt clenching sporadically around his thick length as you rode out your orgasm, high-pitched whines punching out of you on each upward thrust of his hips.

“I’m gonna cum, ah, ohh, gonna cum! ‘M sorry, can’t-can’t stop myself.Can’t hold back, nnh-” The redhead blubbered, face flushed, hips rabbiting into you. “I’ll-I’ll eat you out after, ‘kay? Make you feel good-fuck.”

His cock rubbed against your walls, and no matter how you shifted, you couldn’t get away from the intense stimulation of your sweet spot.

But then Kirishima was cumming, thick ropes of hot, creamy semen filling you up, painting your walls.

The man had his eyes squeezed tight, mouth open in a moan as he jammed his cock up against your cervix, his hips twitching.

The come-down took a moment, the redhead basking in the glorious feel of his orgasm, your cunt wrapped tight around him, relishing the feel of getting to hold your sweaty body against his own.

You sagged in his arms, breathless, tired, disoriented. Your cunt throbbed, flesh pink and tender from the abuse of two rough fucks.

When Kirishima sat up again, you whined as his cock shifted inside of you, the feeling of cum in your tummy uncomfortable and nauseating.

“Oh, I know-” Kiri responded to your whine “I’m so sorry, I didn’t make you cum. But! I’ll make it up to you!” He was gentle as he slid you off his length, gentle as he laid you back on the covers.

Gentle as he settled between your legs, lacing his fingers with yours, staring up at you.

Bakugou smacked him on the back of his head. 

“You idiot, your stupid dick made her cum already.”

Kiri paused, rubbing the back of his head, blinking at his friend, then at you. “I did?”

An unsteady nod from you answered his question.

“Dumbass. Can’t even tell when you make a girl cum.” Bakugou sneered. You didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that he was idly rubbing himself back to hardness, legs spread as he sat against the headboard, watching you both.

The redhead looked down at you with a twinkle in his eye, cocking his head to the side. Then he smiled. “Well, I said I was gonna eat you out though, and I’m not one to go back on my word.”

A whimpered plea for mercy left your lips, but Kirishima was more focused on discovering the taste of your well-used cunt.

You could tell that he wasn’t going to let up, wasn’t going to listen to you. 

All that you could do was resign yourself to the fact that the two men were going to do whatever they wanted to you, and you just had to take it.

[thenovelartist]

Mistaken Drink; Drunk Mistake - Tears of Themis

Up next in the "Drunk Wedding" series, we have Artem. Enjoy ;D

When Artem woke up that morning, he was in a shocking amount of pain. He didn’t want to move despite the fact he knew he needed to get up for work.

Regrettably, he forced himself up into a sitting position, only to instantly feel nauseous. He was going to have to call in sick wasn’t he?

“Artem? Are you okay?”

The sweet voice rung in his ears. Before he could even place where he’d heard that voice before, he felt a cool hand on his back. It took him far too long to realize that said hand was touching his skin, making him realize he wasn’t in a shirt.

Why wasn’t he in a shirt? He always slept in a shirt.

However, before he could think too much about it, a new wave of nausea hit him. He braced himself against the headboard of his bed, leaning his forehead on his arms in hopes that the feeling would pass.

“Do you need water?” the voice asked. A lovely, sweet, feminine voice.

“No,” he muttered weakly.

There was a pause, in which time the intense symptoms faded to manageable levels

“Are you dizzy?” the feminine voice asked. “Do you want medicine?”

“No,” he replied.

However, now he was very curious as to who the owner of that voice was. He couldn’t stand it anymore; he had to know. So, pushing past the pain, he slowly lifted his head up to get a look at the person who was next to him.

Oh, it was his work partner.

That was the only thought he had before he felt sick again and buried his face back in his arms, blocking the light from seeping in.

And then the nausea hit him like a truck.

“Artem? Are you sure you’re okay?”

He couldn’t answer. But he most certainly was not.

…

Fifteen minutes later, after a bathroom break that turned into him emptying the contents of his stomach and feeling all the better for it, he was laying back on his bed, eyes closed and arms draped over his face to keep the light out. He was still shirtless at the moment, but that was less because of choice and more because he could barely move from his spot to the closet to grab one.

As for work, he was fortunate enough to have realized it was a weekend. He had time to recover.

He heard a set of footsteps enter his room, and despite knowing better, he opened his eyes to watch Rosa enter, glass of water in one hand and something else in the other.

With his headache, he draped his arms over his face again. While it was originally to keep the light out of his eyes, it also doubled to cover his blush. The question of “why she was in his house” had yet to be answered.

So did the question of “why she was in his shirt”. But he could only think on everything for so long before his headache warned him to calm down.

“I brought you some medicine,” Rosa said. The space beside him on the bed sank under her weight. And while he wanted to warn her that her being here in a bedroom with him, he wasn’t particularly in a position to speak at the moment, figuratively and literally. “Are you feeling better?”

He paused to think on it. “Possibly.”

“Possibly,” she whispered to herself. Despite being out of it, he could hear the resigned smile in her tone. “Do you need anything? Or just rest?”

Honestly, he needed a lot of things. Answers, specifically.

Slowly, he removed his arms from his head so he could open his eyes and see Rosa. The light still seemed over-bright, but it wasn’t as bad as before.

She gave him a smile, and suddenly, he felt warm all over again. “Good morning.”

His heart gave a funny leap in his chest. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Her expression fell to a concerned one. “For what?”

He wasn’t fully sure. Everything, maybe.

Yes, everything.

But before he could say it, she reached forward to brush his bangs back from his eyes, and words died in his throat. “You don’t have to be sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, too.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”

“For last night,” she said.

He pursed his lips together, trying to think of anything she had to be sorry about, but his memories seemed too hazy to recall anything. “To be frank,” he said, voice hoarse. “I can’t remember last night.”

When her eyes widened in surprise, it took him a long moment to realize it wasn’t the good kind. And when she smiled, it was tense, which caused his own stomach to tighten up again. “Well…” she began. “Um… you really can’t remember anything at all?”

He paused, trying long and hard to think back to last night. “We were at a party,” he answered. “For the firm.”

“Yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “There was that.”

The more he thought on it, the more he could recall the scene. Themis Law Firm had decided to hold a party for its associates to celebrate a major court win for a big client. It had taken months of research and many staff members, but in the end, it had come out in their favor. It had been Celestine’s idea to throw a party for the sake of the employees, congratulating them and allowing them to have a moment to enjoy themselves.

Artem had been there, of course, enjoying the atmosphere and the company of Rosa, who had sat next to him at the bar while the others grew roudy around them.

But that was all he could recall.

“What happened after?” he asked, giving up his futile mission of recalling anything further.

“I think… my best guess is the bartender mixed up someone’s double-shot mixed drinks with your mocktails,” she answered.

Ahh, that would explain it. He grimaced, letting his eyes shut again as he dragged a tired hand over his face. How did he not catch that?

“Are you here because you helped me home?” he asked, already knowing what her answer would be.

“Well… I mean… yes,” she answered, hesitantly.

He opened his eyes again to look back up at her. “Why didn’t you go home?”

She turned bright red.

Oh no, that wasn’t his intention. He felt bashful just looking at her.

“I… kinda… was drunk myself,” she said, her blush not dying down as she turned her gaze away from him. “So, I fell asleep beside you.”

His face began to burn. Wait, she was beside him all night?

“Oh,” she said, looking down at her shirt which was actually his shirt which caused a second wave of embarrassment to crash down on him. “Sorry, I stole one of your shirts because my dress was stained from when someone fell and dumped a Bloody Mary on us. That’s why you’re shirtless, too. So you wouldn’t ruin your sheets. Which reminds me, are you cold? Do you want me to get you something?”

His mind had already come to a screeching halt hearing her explain, so starting it back up again so he could answer was a challenge. “I-I…”

Why was talking so hard?

“Yes.”

She gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll grab one for you.”

With that, she turned her back to him, and he covered his face with his hands, silently wishing he could die and save him from this mortification.

When she returned, she helped him sit up again, and he slid on the plain shirt she’d given him.

“Thank you, for caring for me,” he eventually said, trying his very best to pull himself together. “If you give me a moment, I can give you a jacket to cover your dress and call a cab for you.”

She froze. “Uh…” She seemed to struggle to find words before turning a strained smile on him. “Well… there’s… actually another reason I hadn’t left yet.”

Artem’s brow knit together in confusion., but his gut sank like a stone with worry.

“Because…” The smile she gave him was overly-exaggerated, which worried him deeply. “We should really talk about what to do about our wedding certificate.”

Artem froze, the words somehow eluding him for a moment before registering in his mind all at once.

“I’m sorry. Our what?”

…

It seemed drinking wasn’t the only thing he did last night.

It was mid-morning now, and he was sitting at the table holding his second cup of coffee while he stared at the document in front of him. And he still couldn’t believe it. Because not only had he and Rosa had decided to get married while they were drunk.

But Celestine witnessed.

This had to be the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done and likely the most embarrassing thing he would do in his entire life.

“I’m pretty sure it’s legal,” Rosa said, taking a seat beside him. She was still in his shirt, slowly killing him at the sight of her in it, sipping on her own mug of coffee.

“It is,” he lamented. “Unfortunately.”

“You say that like being married to me is a bad thing.”

His heartrate skyrocketed as he struggled for words. “No! That’s not what I—”

Before he could finish, he took in the sight of her sniggering over her coffee mug. “I was just teasing.”

Despite that, he wasn’t fully able to relax. Because if given the opportunity, he’d love to be married to the woman beside him. However, that wasn’t likely, considering he couldn’t even so much as confess his feelings to this woman.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll start on the annulment, then. It should be granted easily seeing as we were both intoxicated at the time.”

“Do we have to, though?”

He froze, shocked, then confused. “What?”

She sighed. “Celestine warned me you were this dense,” she whispered under her breath.

While Artem was still processing those words, Rosa turned in her seat to face him head on, looking him straight in the eyes. “I love you.”

Whatever Rosa proceeded to say was lost on Artem. He was frozen, completely caught off guard by such a confession. He… he’d thought she wasn’t interested. She never seemed to respond to his advances the way he’d anticipated she would. So why…

How…

He was so confused.

“And I know you try hard to get my attention,” she said, her words finally registering in his mind. “I thought we were getting closer, too. But…” She looked down, disappointment written all over her face. “I must have been wrong.”

“You love me?”

She turned her wide eyes back on him, and suddenly, she was smiling again. “You really are dense, aren’t you?”

…

Back at work, Artem was working on the annulment.

It was… disappointing, in a way. He and Rosa had had a long talk about a relationship between them and where they each saw it going, and what they landed on was marriage in the future. She’d suggested keeping the marriage certificate just in case. However, Artem was adamant that this would notbe how they married. So, annulment it was until they saw fit to come together, sober, as husband and wife.

Which, Artem hoped wouldn’t be too far off in the future.

“So, how’s married life?”

Artem looked up to see Celestine grinning down at him. He fixed her with a stern glare as he picked up the wedding certificate. “You actually witnessed this sham of a marriage?”

“I did!” she cried, grin never leaving her face. “It was a sight to behold. I’m so proud of you for making the first move and asking her to marry you, even if you were drunk when you did. Maybe you and alcohol do get along after all.”

Artem sighed, suddenly feeling quite tired. “And how sober were you for the thought of stopping us to not occur to you?”

“Oh, I was perfectly sober.”

Artem nearly dropped the document. “What?”

With a laugh, she winked at him. “By the way, Rosa istaking on your last name, right? So that I know to give her the proper change of name paperwork.”

Leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh, Artem wondered if a hangover could reappear days after drinking. Because his head was sure spinning right about now.

[adorethedistance]

All Day Affair - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (18+)

JATP Masterlist - Valentine’s Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ Smut, swearing, light embarrassment (minors DNI)

Words: 2757

Summary: A rough night before leads to a slow morning after, causing you and Charlie to be late to Valentine’s brunch plans. All is forgiven and all is forgotten when he makes it up to you in the best way he can.

A/n: This weekend has not at all gone the way I’d thought/hoped it would and so I apologize for the slow churning of fics lately but I promise I am working on some much requested fics. On a lighter note, here is my contribution to the Valentine’s Day

My eyes groggily flutter open when I hear my phone rapidly buzzing on the bedside table. Charlie’s arm is draped over my exposed midriff, no doubt a position of his own doing. As I go to move his arm off my bare skin, he holds onto me tighter groaning an incoherent string of words. I attempt to grab the maniacally buzzing device with my eyes still closed. I’m incapacitated via Charlie’s hold on my waist, and thus, all I feel under my flattened hand against the cool surface are the discarded condom wrappers from last night.

“Charlie,” I scold, still not fully awake. He knowingly loosens his grip, allowing me to sit up and it isn’t until I’m upright and Charlie’s arm drops into my lap that I realize I’m completely naked under his t-shirt. My phone has not stopped vibrating like crazy much to my dismay. Haphazardly grabbing it off the nightstand, I wait for my eyes to adjust before I read the time.

11:26.

“SHIT. Charlie! Charlie, we’re late!” I try and shake him awake. He whines miserably,

“Mmmmm, what?”

“It’s 11:26, we’re late!”

The messages are from Owen and Savannah, both of whom we were supposed to be meeting for brunch at 11. While Charlie and I wanted Valentine’s Day plans alone, we also wanted to spend time with our friends whom we love dearly. Since the original plan was for the two of us to have the evening all to ourselves, we agreed on having brunch to start the day off well. Look how that turned out for us. I scramble out of bed, and I nearly hit the floor as my legs give out from under me. Luckily, Charlie was right behind me and was able to catch me in time.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just sore.”

“Yessss.” I fake slap his chest before we resume in the chaos, frantically throwing on decent outfits. I toss Charlie one of his band shirts turned muscle tees after hopping into a pair of jeans. Once dressed, I run to the bathroom and pass a brush through my hair in a frenzy before I begin brushing my teeth at lightning speed. Charlie appears beside me to brush his own teeth, and I’m practically sprinting out of the bathroom as he does.

“Don’t forget to fix your hair!” My legs nearly give out once more as I struggle to slip on my favorite pair of sneakers. Once I’m upright again, and stable, I grab both of our wallets and the keys to the house and car and shove them into my bag. Together we bolt out the door and clamber into Charlie’s orange Subaru.

In a nice contrast to all the rushing around we’ve done this morning, Charlie drives at a regular speed; thankfully, we make it to the restaurant in one piece. As soon as he puts the car in park the two of us run to the entrance to see our friends waiting at an outdoor table on the patio. Charlie and I finally made it, albeit a tad out of breath.

“Charlie, Y/n, nice of you to finally join us.”

“11:44 on the dot. Not your latest arrival, but an honorable mention,” Savannah jeers, waving me over to sit beside her.

“What happened this time?”

“Overslept. My usual alarm didn’t go off, I must’ve forgotten to turn it on last night.”

“Classic.” I’m distracted from Owen’s teasing when Savannah’s humorous smile drops. She’s looking at me with an emotion I can’t distinguish.

“You okay?” She simply nods and then pushes her chair back.

“I need to pee and you do too. Come on, Y/n.” And without allowing me to reply, she has me up out of the chair and briskly walking toward the bathroom. It isn’t until we’re outside the single stall that I noticed she grabbed my bag from the back of my chair. Once she’s locked us both in the room, she looks at me with wide eyes and a suppressed smile.

“What’s going on?”

“What’s this?” She answers my question with a question, before using her left index finger to poke the right side of my neck.

“Ow!” My face drops once I realize. Brushing past her, I move to stand in front of the bathroom mirror, inspecting the assemblage of love bites all over my neck area. Savannah merely giggles at the realization before opening my bag.

“You don’t have a sponge, so we’re gonna have to use our fingers.” I turn around to look at her, not through the mirror and find a bottle of full-coverage concealer in her hands.

“How did that get in there?”

“I put it in there last week after you had to spend the whole day adjusting your shirt around your collar bones to hide more of these.” She gives a vague gesture to the marks on my neck and begins applying the makeup.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“And you are unbelievable. That was literally last week, and you’re already marked up again. Don’t you and Charlie ever just make love? Does it always have to be ‘ravage one another’s body’?”

“I mean, occasionally. I don’t know, sweet and tender isn’t really our thing.”

“Clearly.” Savannah steps back to survey her work, “Okay, you’re covered but be careful because I didn’t pack setting spray.”

“I am forever indebted to you.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. It’s Owen that you should pray doesn’t notice.”

“God, you’re right.”

“If I were solely judging by his hair, I’d have guessed you guys went at it this morning and not last night.”

“Shit, he’s probably marked up, too.”

“Well, I didn’t bring him concealer, and you two are not the same shade soooo… sorry.” I shake my head dismissively as I hold the bathroom door open for her behind me.

“Better him than me.”

“How was it though? You told me you’d text me updates.”

“Yeah, and then I didn’t set an alarm. But no, it was… so good. I’m like, sore.”

“Okay, we’re entering TMI territory so let’s find something to talk about before we’re back within earshot.”

“What are your Valentine’s plans for the rest of the day?”

“I might get frozen yogurt and watch a movie, haven’t really decided. I would ask what you and Charlie are doing, but based on this morning, I think I can guess.”

Just as Savannah and I did, the two boys fall silent once we approach the table; when the four of us are settled, I take a quick glance over the menu, as if I’m unsure of what I want.

“Okay, in the spirit of St. Valentine, let’s talk love. Tell us about your first kiss, Y/n.” Savannah eyes me, already knowing the horrendous story. I deadpan,

“No.”

“Wait, I’m actually curious. I don’t think I know this story.” Charlie leans forward in his seat, placing his forearms on the table in front of him.

“See what you’ve done?” Savannah merely shrugs and takes a smug sip from her water glass. “No, I’m not doing this. Why don’t you tell us about your first kiss, Sav?”

“I asked you first.”

“Fine, be that way. Charlie, tell us about your first kiss.”

“Well, I don’t know I-”

“Come on, what’s ‘love-master’ Charlie’s origin story?” Owen teasingly pats Charlie on the back, and the four of us all fall under a shocked silence at the sound of Charlie hissing in pain. My lips part in surprise but quickly press shut in a moment’s realization.

“You okay?” Don’t do it, Owen.

“Yeah, I’m fine just-”

“Oh my god.” Upon patting Charlie’s back, the fabric of his shirt moved out of the way to reveal a conglomerate of scratches across the surface of his sun-kissed skin. Owen laughs out in disbelief before poking one of the scratches again, causing Charlie to smack his hand away.

“Holy shit, did you get mauled by a bear?” Owen then gasps in a realization that I’d pray he wouldn’t have, and he begins to laugh even harder. “That good, huh Y/n?” My face heats up a million degrees and I cover my face with one hand as a desperate defense mechanism.

“It’s not a big deal, Owen.” Thank god, Savannah’s come to the rescue. “They just got a head start on Valentine’s Day is all.”

“Okay, can we please change the subject?” I plead as I’ve already had enough of their laughter. Charlie gives me a look that is both apologetic and embarrassed and I let out an exaggerated sigh as a response.

The rest of our brunch date is still a good time minus the occasional interjectory joke about my and Charlie’s romantic all-day-affair yesterday. Our foursome disassembles, already planning the next group outing post-Valentine’s intimacy.

“That was absolutely humiliating,” I state, buckling my seatbelt in the passenger's side as Charlie begins pulling out of the parking spot.

“You want me to be gentler next time?” Charlie asks sincerely and extends his right hand over the center console to rub a comforting circle on top of my thigh over the fabric of my jeans. The gesture pulls the warmth in my heart and the butterflies in my stomach a little lower.

“...No,” I admit shyly. The confession elicits a small, cocky chuckle from Charlie. He then gives me an affirming squeeze before tracing the seam along my inner thigh in a way that is too sensual to mistake his intentions.

The entire car ride home, the feeling of Charlie’s fingertips ghosting up my leg makes my heart beat a little faster and ignites a subtle heat where I wish he’d trail his hand up to. I’m sure my desire is apparent to Charlie but he doesn’t say anything about it. When we get back to our home, I stick the key in the lock and open the front door but freeze as I feel Charlie pressing into my entire backside. He leans down to playfully bite part of my earlobe as his hands come to rest on my hips.

“You said you didn’t want me to be gentle?” All of my senses are clouded by dense arousal so all I can do is nod. He airily laughs, a warm breath dusting the surface of my skin and I shudder involuntarily. “Go inside.”

After closing the door behind us, Charlie shoves me up against it, his hand behind my head to prevent me from actually getting hurt. He kisses my lips forcefully but doesn’t linger, and instead trails down the column of my throat. The kisses are rough in between small bites of affection, surely leaving more marks that I’ll have to wake up early to cover tomorrow. Or just not go anywhere. After this, it’s looking like the latter.

“You want me to rough you up a little bit? Huh?”

“Yes.” The love bites Charlie’s leaving behind become harsher on my skin, as he trails further down my neck, across my collarbones. “Charlie, can we…?”

“Can we what? Tell me what you want.”

“Please-“

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Please, fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command.” And with that Charlie pulls me into the bedroom, stealing kisses in between steps. Charlie moves to sit me on the bed but as he grabs me by the hips, I maneuver to switch places and push him down onto the bed. He looks at me with a mix of surprise and excitement, taking the hand that pushed him between his own. I smile delicately when Charlie presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles. That is the last trace of softness.

The two of us begin stripping out of our brunch clothes as fast as we can. It’s as if we’re running out of time. We’re both almost fully naked but before I can get my panties off Charlie’s lips are back on mine. His movements are swift, kiss after kiss is filled with an unrivaled lust that is glorious.

Crawling onto the bed, Charlie stays close behind, never allowing any loss of contact between us. I recover to a sitting position and Charlie wraps his arm under my stomach and presses a line of kisses across my shoulder blades.

“Can I take you like this?” He asks earnestly, running his hands over the vast expanse of my bare skin. I choke out a desperate plea and my breathing softens once I feel the absence of Charlie’s touch on my body. When I turn around I see him searching the room like a madman.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t find any more condoms. I think we used them all last night.”

“What? We only used three.”

“I don’t know! Maybe I dropped some?”

“Fuck it. Charlie if I’m not getting absolutely rawed in the next ten seconds I will walk out that door.” He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that and is back on the bed. Charlie grabs both sides of my face to bring me in for a long passionate kiss before taking his place behind me. His warm hands fall from my face to my waist, gripping the skin slightly.

Charlie sits back on his heels and moves my body back to hover over his. He runs a sensual path with his fingers down the sides of my body and slips one down through the growing wetness between my legs. Tracing the arousal over my quivering clit. The anticipation of the moment has heightened my sensitivity and as a result, I let out a whine. My whimpering continues when I feel him run the tip of his erection through the wetness. As I open my mouth to nag him for moving so slow, Charlie slams his entire length inside of me at once, causing me to cry out in pleasure. I can tell it feels incredible for him too by the way he’s gripping my hips. If he didn’t leave bruises yesterday, he definitely will today.

It doesn’t take long for him to figure out a tempo that’s comfortable for the both of us and my labored panting fills the room. Charlie lets out a groan followed by a laugh because we could both feel the physical reaction I had to the noise he had let out. Wrapping his right arm across my stomach, Charlie reaches the left up to grab my tits, and roughly bite another hickey on my shoulder. He uses his right arm to pull my body into his own torso, and shifting his hips he makes a few adjustments. Charlie shifts one more time and when he thrusts back into me I cry out so loud surely our neighbors will put in a noise complaint.

“There we go,” he grunts to himself, but our proximity allows me to hear. Repeatedly thrusting into that spot, my eyes flutter closed in pleasure. Charlie resumes leaving harsh, lingering kisses, and love bites down the side of my neck, moaning into them in ecstasy. As I feel my heat begin to pulse, Charlie knows I’m close and tries to grab my attention.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” I will my eyes open and turn to look. The pleasure of his movements is so overwhelming that in between moans and shallow breaths, I find myself leaning my head back to rest on his bare shoulder. “I want you to look at me as you come undone.”

“Okay.” I swallow hard from how dry my mouth is from panting so hard for so long. Each next thrust is measured and the sound of our labored breathing and pleasured moans fill the electrified air.

“Charlie.”

“I’m close. Where do you want-”

“Just stay inside.”

“You sure?” Before I can give a coherent response my orgasm tears through me like a wildfire. I’m doing my best not to scream and what comes out is a mix between a strangled cry and a deep, guttural groan. Adding to my ecstasy, Charlie reaches down to trace tiny circles over my clit and I feel tears of overstimulation prick the length of my lower lash line. While Charlie fucks me through my high, I feel his movements stutter and the familiar twitch before he relaxes his hold on my body. The two of us collapse back onto the bed in a symphony of gasps and bliss-fueled laughter.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” he says behind a smile.

“I love you. That was the first time I’ve forgone condoms…” I state to the ceiling in a moment’s realization, “How do I get this out of me?”

***

A/n: I really am so sorry about the slow churn of writing. I’ve gotten busy with classes and though I knew this was coming I’m still upset that I can’t spend more time writing. On top of that being in a block has been really rough but it’ll pass with time I hope :)

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas​ @crybabyddl​ @kcd15​ @kinda-really-lost​ @calamitykaty​ @morganayennefertyrell​ @n0wornever​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys​ @amazinggracy​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean​ @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99​ @ifilwtmfc​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1​@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz​ @talk-on-the-street​ @phantompogues​ @konciousdreamer​ @sunsetcurvej​ @warmnesss0ul​

[e-spits]

latched on - lee juyeon

words: 4.8k

genre: smut

warnings yandere!juyeon, dubious consent, knives, all around filth

The pressure balancing college and a social life was difficult. Classes were long and overbearing, the workload heavy to carry and parties or events were almost impossible to fit into your schedule. You rarely attended any social events, rarely met up with anyone aside your roommate if it weren’t to study in a café. And meeting new people was essentially a no go. Your roommate had tried tirelessly to get you out of your tight shell, dragging you to different parties but even when she was successful, you mind was absent. Too worried about the commitments you were neglecting. You did try to engage but what was important was getting through college though it didn’t stop your friend from trying.

On one Friday night, your roommate had selected a particularly rowdy party for you to attend. She smothered you in the dorm, soothing over your complexion with makeup and applying bright colours to your skin. You knew you didn’t dress up much but with the effort she was making, you knew her intentions were less than pure. It was too much effort to fight back and so you allowed it, even letting her loan you a strapless, skin-tight dress that blinded you with its red colour. Your roommate stood back, admiring her handy work, and grinning from ear to ear.

‘It’s beautiful.’ You mumbled, turning to examine your reflection in the mirror, eyes skimming over your own figure as though it were a mannequin. You did look nice but why. ‘What’s it for?’ You finally asked.  

Your roommate giggled below her breathe.

‘What?’

‘Don’t be mad.’ She continued, wandering over and placing her hands on your shoulders.

‘About?’

‘So, there’s this really hot guy in my class and I figured, you know since I’m already dating someone, maybe you could go for it. We both know you should.’

Your eyes narrowed toward the other girl, hands hitching themselves on your hips. ‘How cute?’

‘Like, fucking hot, okay, trust me.’ She nodded frantically, your stomach tightening. ‘Besides, it’ll be a step up from that stalker of yours.’ Your roommate laughed loudly, nausea filling your gut at the mere mention of the stalker, the so-called, not so secret admirer.

Three months ago, a letter had arrived at your doorstep. It was in ink of your favourite colour, the words like artwork or poetry. The writer had noted all the things they claimed to love about you, all the things they had noticed while watching you around campus. It was juvenile, strange but sweet, just a secret admirer like you imagined lots of people had. And then they became more frequent. Every few days another letter would appear outside your dorm room, full of more romantic rambling that made you only slightly uncomfortable at the time.

And then came the wave of presents, the many, many presents. Flowers, chocolates, clothes, brand new textbooks you’d been eyeing at the campus shop. It was then you knew you were being watched, surveyed, and documented. Your roommate found it hilarious, sharing your abundance of gifts and noting how even her boyfriend didn’t do this for her. A part of you liked being admired, liked the attention and romantic writings that came with being observed. However, the thrill of it dissipated when gradually, it became more intense.

The letters became several pages long, the handwriting descending into scribbles. And the longer they became the more descriptive, more explicit they were. You began not reading them, skimming the filthy intentions the writer had with a casual eye before throwing them out. Giving the presents to your roommate instead of indulging them. It all seemed like a prank, some kind of joke someone was playing, not an admirer at all. Your roommate insisted it was likely a horny, frat boy, obsessing over conquering a girl who had no interest in being conquered though it felt like more. The words eventually became heavier, threats beginning to soak in as the writer laid out their violent plans. You didn’t show anyone those letter, you didn’t want anyone to worry and so you carried it all by yourself.

This boy would probably be a step up.

The house was large, full of people and booming with music. All it made you think was how you’d rather be home, in pyjamas, watching sitcoms and studying. Your roommate shimmied you into the building, holding your hand as she pushed you through the crowds. Bodies brushed against your bare thighs as you picked up a couple drinks and eventually you made it to a particularly quiet stop in the corner couch of the lounge. You found yourself surveying the crowds, eyes clinging to each male face, wondering which one was the one your roommate had mentioned. And if maybe, your stalker was also here, hiding between the faces in the hubbub.

Your roommate nudged your ribcage, mumbling something beneath her breath before her eyes lit up, mouth spread in a wild grin.

‘He’s here?’

She merely gestured her head forward, yours following the motion. At first, you couldn’t see him but then through the huddle of people, one was clearly approaching. His face was warm, eyes bright, his smile so dazzling you couldn’t see anything else. Your friend was right, he was hot, insanely so but you still couldn’t pay attention fully. You were too busy being afraid your stalker may see you with someone else and carry out those plans he’d detailed.

The boy wandered over to you and your friend, pushing in and sitting between you two. Your roommate laughed lightly, giving you a certain look before she stood up from the couch. She wiggled her eyebrows at the boy and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you all alone. You looked over at him, his figure only inches from you, his expression covered in even more worry than yours.

‘Hi.’ You finally broke the silence.

‘Um, hi. I hope you don’t mind this, it’s just, your friend mentioned she wanted me to meet you, and I, I can see why.’

Your cheeks burnt. ‘It doesn’t bother me.’

‘Cool,’ he was grinning wildly, ‘I just, I think I’ve seen you around campus before, I don’t think I could forget anyone as gorgeous as you.’

A chuckle passed your lips, the boy taking a sip from his own drink as you did from yours. The thick, hot liquid rolled down your throat, worry beginning to subside the more drink you gulped.

‘I’m Juyeon, by the way.’

‘It’s nice to meet you, Juyeon.’

Though earlier you were wishing to go home, now all you wanted to do was sit in the crowded room and talk to this boy all night. Wishing everyone else could leave so you could hear every inflection in his honied voice. The more words that poured from his mouth, the more you forgot about the comfort of your dorm, instead, all your focus was on him. Juyeon charmed you relentlessly, dousing you in compliments but underneath the obvious flirting, he had substance. He spoke eloquently, voice soft and polite no matter what he said. He clearly knew a lot about the things he spoke of, which only made you more enthused to talk to him.

The party rolled on as did your conversation, Juyeon inching closer to you as his confidence settled in. While he was lovely and beautiful, you still didn’t want to engage in hooking up at a party, only to never see someone again. You knew boys all too well, they were charming when they were or weren’t interested and you hated the thought of the latter. With each subtle move he made, you slid away, wishing you could speak candidly without the distraction of his lips. You wanted him to kiss you, but you didn’t want him to be disappointed.

His hand reached over and smoothed over yours, thumb stroking the back of your hand. The warmth he emitted was intoxicating and it took everything not to melt into it. Juyeon was unfazed as though he hadn’t noticed your reservations at all, still moving in dangerously close. His mouth was only an inch or so from yours, his hot breath fanning your blushed cheeks. Your eyes closed for a moment, considering allowing contact to be made but as you felt acceptance greet you, a voice interrupted. Your roommate stood in front of the couch; eyes wide as she visibly regretted interrupting.

‘I’m sorry, I just, I wanted to check in, I’m pretty fucking tired if I’m being honest.’ She chuckled, smile dissipating quickly as she folded her arms.

Juyeon remained silent, sinking back into his original position while gulping down the rest of his drink.

‘It’s fine,’ you turned to the boy beside you, ‘it was really nice meeting you Juyeon, I, um, I’ll see around.’

He said nothing, leaving you to stand up and wander off in silence, taking your roommate’s hand and letting her guide you outside. You began meandering through the dark streets, your friend beginning to laugh hysterically.

‘God, I’m so sorry, you just, and he,’ she cut herself off with a loud giggle.

‘Shut up!’ You laughed back.

‘He was so mad.’

‘I think he was just annoyed he didn’t get any, it’s fine honestly. Besides, he’s so hot he can be mad if he wants.’ You giggled, wrapping your arm around your friend as you continued your way home.

‘Wait, are you whipped for someone? After one night, what’s gotten into you.’ She tilted her head down, eyes wide toward you as you found yourself smiling nonchalantly.

‘No, not him, thanks to you.’ She sighed as you spoke.

‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled dramatically, ‘there are other parties you can fuck at, don’t worry. Now, hurry up, I’m so tired.’

The dorm was silent when you arrived, darkness swirling around the space. Your roommate quickly dived into her bed, falling asleep almost immediately leaving you to roam your thoughts. As you did, you felt a little relieved the moment had been interrupted, that way, Juyeon might still be interested. Instead of being disappointed or bored, he know had to continue the chase and that meant he definitely would want to see you again. You smiled to yourself, cheeks hot at just the thought of the boy you’d spent hours talking to. Sleep eventually overwhelmed you, eyes heavy as you curled up in bed, still in your dress and fell asleep.

It was still night when your eyes were shocked open, a cold, metal sensation running over your neck. Pressure appeared upon the warm skin, your eyes wildly searching the room before you realised what was happening. Someone was kneeling against your arms, their legs either side of your torso though the room was so dark you couldn’t make out their face. You wriggled underneath the weight, but it was pointless. Your head snapped toward your roommate’s bed, it was empty, duvet thrown on the floor in a heap. Where was she? What was happening? A knife was pressed against your throat, the sharp metal grazing the sensitive skin.

‘Please, please don’t.’ You cried out, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks and splash onto the pillows beneath.

The figure above shifted slightly, their free hand reaching over and switching on your lamp. A yellow light danced across the room, your eyes adjusting quickly before realising who was threatening you. Juyeon. The same gummy smile, the same honey skin, the same big, bright eyes but now they were much darker. Something had consumed him, something dark.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Shh, shh, it’s okay baby, don’t worry. I don’t want to hurt you, I really don’t.’ Juyeon dragged the thick blade down your neck, letting it sit on your collarbone.

‘What’s happening, where’s my roommate?’

‘She’s fine,’ he rolled his eyes, ‘I just had to get her out of here, can’t have her interrupting again. Not when I, not when I got so, so close.’

‘I don’t understand.’ You cried.

‘Yes, you do.’ Juyeon smiled menacingly, pushing the knife into your skin ever so slightly. You could feel a droplet of blood roll down your neck, a tinge of pain rolling through your body.

His words didn’t make sense for a few moments, your mind racing through every word he’d said earlier in the night. He’d been so nice, so eloquent, so charming, and now he was so angry, so scary, so threatening. Just like your admirer. Just like your admirer… And then it dawned on you, Juyeon was your admirer, your stalker. It suddenly made so much sense, his entire demeanour created to lure you in, just like the letters and gifts had been.

‘It was you.’ You uttered in defeat, head sinking into the pillow as you gave in. Juyeon laughed, his smile transforming into a wild grin.

‘You were lovely last night, it was lovely. God, I couldn’t have planned for it better, we just, we clicked. If it hadn’t have been for that bitch of a roommate, fuck, all the things we would’ve done. We’d still be fucking now. But it’s okay, now I know you like me back, we can be together.’

‘You’re hurting me.’ You mumbled, trying to wriggle your neck away from the knife. Juyeon tilted his head, his free hand brushing through your locks, twisting around the hair softly. His fingers began stroking your face, travelling across to where the knife had nicked your skin. Another drop fell onto his thumb, the digit raising as he placed it in his mouth. Juyeon closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the metallic taste before he leant down.

You could feel his hot breath over your face, his mouth only inches from yours. The cool metal of the knife disappeared from your throat, Juyeon leaning down and replacing the sharp blade with his lips. His mouth wrapped around the small wound, tongue soothing over the skin. You closed your eyes tightly, beginning to try and move when he became distracted. Lifting your arms, you began trying to push the man away though it didn’t take long for him to notice. His lips left your body, sighing as he realised you were still trying to get away.

‘Hey, hey, you liked me earlier. Why it that different now? Now you know that I’ve loved you for months, it should be better, right? You know how much I want you. Don’t you?’

Your stomach tightened, realising there was no way out, you began to listen to him seriously. Juyeon had certainly showed he cared, and he was okay earlier, he was lovely earlier. That part of him had to be in there somewhere, maybe if you went along with his actions, that part of him would come back. Perhaps you could draw it out. You let out a deep breath, staring up at the boy knelt atop your arms.

‘I know,’ you mumbled, nodding, ‘I know.’

His mouth began leaning down again, yours leaving the pillow to meet his lips. Juyeon let his mouth press onto you strongly, engulfing you in the kiss before deepening it. You did nothing to fight back instead closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy the touches.

It felt wrong that you were allowing him to do such a thing so tentatively, especially when he’d done nothing to deserve it. But when Juyeon forced his tongue into your mouth and let the muscle explore your wet skin, it was impossible not to give in. Your head tilted back in pleasure, the boy suddenly pulling away and immediately attacking your neck with kisses and small bites. He did this for a few minutes, his body becoming so entranced in the motions that he let your arms out from beneath him. However, you found yourself motionless still, eyes closed, relishing in the feeling of Juyeon nibbling at your neck.

The boy moved down your body, lips staying on your skin, as they travelled to your chest. Juyeon poked his tongue out, licking at the skin closest to your covered breasts before he looked up at you. His eyebrows furrowed together, body lifting as he peered down to your free hands then back up to your face. After a moment, you noticed he was no longer touching you and opened your eyes. Juyeon was hovering above you once more, face tightened in thought before he grabbed your hands again. His grip was harsh, like it had been with the knife, which he’d long ago forgotten. You tried to wriggle away from instinct but found it impossible beneath his strength, instead having your wrists moved to above your head. For a moment, you thought he was returning to how he’d been, however when he began tying your wrist to the bedpost, you knew he wasn’t quite there yet.

You were unsure where he’d gotten the tie but assumed he’d brought them along with him. Perhaps he’d expected you to fight it more, but he already had a certain control you didn’t understand.

After tugging on the tie, you realised quickly that you were trapped in place. Juyeon, still hovering above you, smiled widely, admiring his handy work.

‘There, we don’t have to worry about you going anywhere now.’ He said, still grinning.

‘I wouldn’t have gone anywhere.’

‘I know princess,’ Juyeon let his finger caress your cheek, moving down until it reach the neckline of your dress. ‘I just have to make sure, until I know how good you are. Because I know you can be a good girl, can’t you?’

You nodded frantically, pushing your chest up into his touch. Juyeon continued grinning, encouraged by your movements. He unzipped your dress, pulling the material down until it was thrown to the floor. The boy straddled your naked body, looking down at your figure as his hands continued their journey downward. Fingertips burning circles into your cleavage and stomach until they stopped just above the hem of your panties. He hesitated for a moment.

‘Say yes.’ He whispered almost silently as you remembered all the times you’d read those words in the letters he’d written. Say yes to him, in every way. And though you never imagined you’d be doing it, the word poured from parted lips almost instinctively.

Juyeon was spurred on, his mind suddenly clearer than it had been all night. You looked down at the boy as he trailed the underwear over your legs, chuckling when he noticed the wet patch in the centre. Juyeon sat over your calves, leaning down until his face was equal with your core. A whimper left your mouth, floating into the air as suddenly, you felt lips wrap around your already sensitive clit. You choked out a moan as Juyeon pushed further in your heat, mouth moving up and down, the muscle prodding your entrance. More squeals came from your lips, stomach tightening as you pushed your core up into his mouth. His tongue continued to work your heat, moving quickly and powerfully until you could feel a coil beginning to form in your loin.

You pushed up further, hoping to cause more friction and find your high. As abruptly as he had begun, Juyeon pulled away, letting you writhe around, helpless. A particularly loud groan bellowed into the room. The boy moved back up your body, leaving kisses on your naked form every so often, the remnants of spit sticking to your skin. He continued until his face was inches above yours, his fingers meeting your bottom lip and pulling your mouth open. Juyeon dropped his forehead against yours, eyes big as a long, pendulum of spit emitted from his mouth. It dangled between your faces, Juyeon holding your lips open until his fluid reached your tongue. The taste of him spreading out over your taste buds, it was the same thick, sweet taste of the drink you’d been gulping at the party. It made you feel closer to him, comforted almost.

Juyeon forced his mouth down on you again, lips mellowing out onto yours in a much sweeter way than before. He continued for a while before lifting up and moving off your body for the first time since you’d awoken. Your chest could finally move better but as soon as you became adjusted, Juyeon grabbed your hips and spun you around. Suddenly, your bare ass was met with cool air, your face pressing into the pillow. Juyeon let his fingers grip you tighter, pulling your hips upward so your back arched and heat was vulnerable to him.

Your face tried to turn back to see what Juyeon was doing, but it was impossible from the angle. Instead, you waited, restless, rocking softly wishing silently that his touch would return. The sound of rustling and shuffling greeted your ears but still no touch. The knowledge that he was likely undressing graced your mind but still no touch. You waited and waited until finally, the warm, hard flesh of Juyeon’s cock brushed against your slick entrance. The member twitched in anticipation before the boy pushed it inside you, the stiff member filling you. Your heat stretched and pulsated, Juyeon remaining motionless for a moment to let you adjust to his size. After a moment, he began thrusting in and out. Slowly at first and then quicker, the pace building and building until your body began rocking with his thrusts. Juyeon held you in place by your hips, his fingertips likely leaving bruised bevelled into your skin.

Juyeon continued his thrusts, the tip of his cock nearly prodding your cervix as he furthered his assault. Your body felt weak and would’ve likely collapsed if it weren’t for Juyeon holding you up.

‘God, this feels even better than I imagined, you’re so tight, so warm. Fuck.’ The boy moaned, deep growls passing his lips as his thrusts burned into your core. You pushed back against his length, allowing it to brush against your g-spot, the walls of your heat twitching at the contact.

The boy let one hand dance onto your back, stopping just between your shoulder blades. He pushed down, your breasts pushed onto the plush duvet, the new position making it much easier for Juyeon to brush against your g-stop again and again. You writhed in pleasure, stomach tight.

‘Don’t you move baby, don’t fucking move.’

Juyeon let his other hand raise high into the air, slamming down against the taunt skin of your ass. Pain sprung out onto the flesh. The boy lifted his hand again, slapping you again, and again and again. Though at first it burnt, the jolts of pain began to add to the mound of pleasure in your loin. Juyeon continued his tirade of slaps, your ass beginning to burn with pain though that only seemed to spur him on. After a few minutes of thrusting and slapping, he swapped hands and began slamming down on your other cheek.

His thrusts became messy, his open palm clamping back down onto your hip to steady himself. Groans fell from his mouth, your back arching to let him hit all the deepest parts of your heat. Another few minutes passed, Juyeon slowly down and then with a particularly guttural moan, he pulled his length from within you. Your core felt empty, cold almost until his hands flipped you over. The tie wrapped around your wrist tightening and digging into your flesh. It burnt, just like your ass still was. Juyeon now looked down on you, kneeling between your legs, naked.

The boy looked like a statue, made in a laboratory. You didn’t understand why he was so enamoured with you, willing to break so many laws and moral barriers to be with you. He must be crazy, he was.

Juyeon leant down, hand on the bedframe to hold himself up. His mouth lowered, lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking on the tender flesh, and letting it bounce back with a pop. A whimper bellowed from your mouth, Juyeon looking up at you with dark, arrogant eyes. He moved up, face hovering above yours, his hard member brushing against your entrance, teasing you. A smile sprouted on his lips, one hand disappeared to stroke his cock up and down your slick entrance.

‘Please…’ You found yourself mumbling absent-mindedly, not even realising what he had done before.

He laughed.

His face moved away from you suddenly, fingers clasping the knife that was sat on your bedside table. Your stomach tightened, Juyeon’s member still on your entrance. Juyeon held the knife forward, pressing the tip against your breast, pushing down slightly. You felt the point dig into your skin, a droplet of blood seeping from the warm flesh. Another small whimper fell from your mouth, Juyeon’s smile growing tenfold.

‘Beg for it.’

‘What?’

‘I said,’ Juyeon ordered, pushing the blade down harder, another drop of blood slithering down your breast. ‘beg for it.’

‘Please. Please.’

‘Please… what?’

‘Please fuck me, Juyeon. I want you to fuck me, please. I want you inside of me again, please, I want you to fill me up.’

Juyeon smiled wide, sliding the knife downward and then pulling it away from your skin. And with one sharp movement, he pushed his length into you, stretching you once more. You both moaned loudly, Juyeon beginning to build his pace again. Hips bucking onto yours. The thrusts became as quick as they were before, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix again, the coil of pleasure tightening in your loin.

Once again, Juyeon lifted the knife and this time pressed it to your throat. The sharp blade slightly scraping your elongated neck, still continuing his thrusts until they became messy again. Juyeon let out several grunts, the sounds roaming the room like music. The boy made sure not to cut you, instead letting you merely feel the threat of danger. He snapped his hips onto yours once more, the pleasure in your stomach burning and finally, unravelling.

A long, feral whimper exploded from your mouth, head tilting back as Juyeon continued to thrust. The feeling of you tightening through your orgasm made his cock twitch, the member releasing its warm liquid into your heat. The warmth of his seed caused another moan to fall from your mouth, Juyeon growling low as he rode out his high. The boy trusted one more time and then let his length slowly fall out of you.

He still held the knife to your throat, hands still clasped around the headboard. You waited for something, for Juyeon to untie you and snuggle up to you in bed. Instead, he knelt above you, knife still on your skin.

‘What are you going to do now?’ You asked as Juyeon looked down at the ground beside your bed. He sighed.

‘I’m going to keep you. I just haven’t decided where.’ The boy uttered as though it were the most normal thing in the world. Only now, you’d let him.

[buckyownsmylife]

off to the races - harry styles smut

the one where harry was your boss and now that he’s not...

Warnings: former work relationship, harry is known for sleeping around in this one, reader finds it hot and likes it rough, sir kink, smut in general

A/N: okay, so I ended up diverging from the original request because technically, she’s no longer his assistant... but the idea of hierachy is right there! Also, I ended up changing the requested daddy kink for a slight sir kink - not usually one I particularly enjoy, but for this one, it just seemed right 🤷‍♀️

Harry’s P.O.V.

Such a pretty little thing. Been trying to get her in my bed for months, ever since she joined the company, but she swears she could never “sleep her way to the top”. I promised I wouldn’t promote her, she still didn’t budge.

I wasn’t greedy enough to fire her just to have her.

That’s why when the holiday celebration rolled around, I made sure to take her as my plus one, introduce her to Henry, praise her and talk her up. I knew his competitive streak would make him offer her a job. I knew she’d take it.

Because as much as she tried to deny it, she felt it too. That undeniable pull. That attraction that ran deeper than the physical, but was definitely dominated by it. And God, what wouldn’t I give to dominate her.

“Mr. Styles?” The way she tilted her head as she found me on the other side of her front door was way too fucking endearing. I could just eat her up whole. She was wearing a robe, I noticed - I knew it was late, perhaps maybe too late for a social visit, definitely too late for a social visit to a former employee, but I had planned this carefully.

“Forgive me for the time, you know how difficult it is to pry me away from work… And with you no longer there, I think this is going to become more and more common for me.” She nodded, adjusting the light tissue to make sure that it wouldn’t show more than she wanted - more than what was proper, but she bit her lip at the same time, her eyes running me over until they found what I was holding.

“Ah, yes, this is why I came. I have something to give you in celebration for your first day in a new company. May I come in?”At my question, she startled, jumping away from the door and motioning me in despite playing with her fingers after I was already there. I raised an eyebrow as I patiently waited and that seemed to snap her out of her reverie.

“Would you like to sit? I-I’ll get us some glasses.” I looked at the sofa but turned my attention back to her, widening my stance as I stood blocking her from the rest of my apartment. I knew I stood towering over her, but that was precisely my intention. I wanted to make her feel small, at least in the physical sense. The difference in our heights had always been one of the things that attracted me to her.

“I’d rather have something else to quench my thirst.” She knew what I meant. It was obvious, but especially for someone who knew me as well as she did. But I could see that she still held some hesitation, some reminiscence of the time when she wouldn’t do this.

So I upped my game.

“I can smell you dripping all the way from here,” I noted, grasping her by the waist so I could have her body as close to mine as possible. “And you don’t work for me anymore. So can I please, *please taste your pussy?”

The question made her shiver, and although she couldn’t meet my eyes, there was a nod. That was more than enough for me. So I held her by the back of her neck and pulled her up to meet my lips, while I fumbled with the silk covering her body until I could press my hand on her navel, wiggle my way between her legs.

“Fuck, darlin,’” I whispered as she desperately tried to catch her breath. “Have I always made you this wet? Did you have to struggle with this all day during work? Answer me.” My grip on her jaw tightened as my voice lowered, and although she gasped, I knew she was pleased with my dominance.

“Y-Yes, you made me wet all the time.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“I fucking knew it,” he whispered just before he caught my lips with hers again, swallowing down my moans and whimpers with a far too talented tongue that so easily made my knees weak. “It’s only fair, sweetheart. I was always pretty fucking hard for you.”

It was that confession, paired with two fingers that parted my lower lips for a thumb to find, that had me finally breaking out of my control from the pure need to have the man that held me so easily in his arms.

“I know.” I watched his eyebrows shot up as he was faced with the realization that all of those times he thought he was being so inconspicuous, only to call one of the random girls in the department to help him sort his “problem”, I was fully aware of the entire situation.

“You do?” There was a smirk in his lips now, replacing the surprised expression. It was clear that he liked it, he liked knowing you were aware of everything, including how hard he fucked your coworkers, now conscious that he was thinking of you the entire time.

“Hmh.” He looked about ready to devour you now, but just before he could, something made the predatory expression in his face fall, replaced by something soft instead. It made my head tilt to the side in curiosity, but he didn’t leave me hanging for long.

“You have to tell me if something is too much, okay?” His tone was so soothing, it was the only thing that stopped me from laughing at the silly preoccupation that had clearly decided to burden him out of the blue.

“Mr. Styles…” I ran my fingers over the lapels of his suit, hoping to give him the best sultry gaze I could muster while I whispered the words I’d been waiting to say for so long. “Do it like you always do. I’ve heard the other women you’ve fucked around the building. I want you to treat me just the same.”

I could tell he had stopped breathing, and when my fingers slowly inched under his work shirt to find his abs tense to the touch, he actually shivered. “I may not work for you anymore…” I stood on my tiptoes to say the last part of the sentence, making sure he knew that I meant every part of what I said. “But you can boss me around as much as you like.”

Before I could even comprehend what had happened, Harry had taken off my robe, stripping me and revealing my naked body to his hungry gaze. Then, he had me on the sofa, surprisingly not securing a spot by my side, but instead opting to remain standing, still fully dressed, towering over me.

“Be a good girl and spread your legs.” Despite the overwhelming desire that I felt to be absolutely and completely *ruined by the man before me, I was still inexperienced enough to feel somewhat self-conscious about following his order without any sort of hesitation. Thankfully, he didn’t hurry or seemed impatient as I slowly opened my legs and jutted my hips up, offering my most private part to him.

But perhaps I’d been too quick to judge, because as soon as I’d obeyed him, he knelt before me and pulled me down towards himself with a particularly harsh grip on my hips, until they were completely out of the couch.

“Put your legs on my shoulders.” That was all the warning I got before he delved right in to lick me, warm tongue suddenly everywhere as I wiggled under his hold. Immediately, I understood why every single woman he ever slept with was desperate to have another chance with him.

Harry’s P.O.V.

She was delicious. Sweet and creamy and everything I’ve always imagined when I licked into all of those other employee’s peaches. And fuck, every single sound that fell from her lips was just music to my quickly hardening cock. I wanted to bury myself in her, but first I needed to have her cum dripping from my chin. I needed her to cum for me.

So I raised one of my hands that had been otherwise occupied with her fantastic ass and slowly dragged a finger through the same lips I was licking, making her gasp and whine, much to my delight. “Do you think I can fit two in here?” I asked, already forcing two of my digits in. The moan she let out was downright pornographic, better than anything I’d ever heard before, and I just had to tease her.

“What? Does that feel good?” Skipping slow and gentle altogether, I started forcefully plowing my fingers while curving them inside her tight channel, all the while still licking around them and sucking on her little clit. In seconds, I had her cumming already, and I hummed in delight at the wave of her sweetness that invaded my mouth. “Delicious,” I commented when she finally stopped squirming, letting me pull away to bite on the inside of her thigh. “Could eat you all day.”

A whine was my sign that she would oppose to that project, and I had to laugh when she begged, “Please, just fuck me, sir. I need your cock in me.” Hearing her address me the same was as she did during work fucking *wrecked me. Never before had anyone done something similar - always too eager to try to fabricate a connection that just wasn’t there. And while there definitely *was something between us, hearing her address me like this, especially now that she didn’t have to, only made me even harder.

“I need it too, kitten.” My hands roamed all over her body, stopping on her breasts for a while to pull on her nipples before I finally managed to force myself away to work on my pants. And then I was easing myself into her, mouth open to release out-of-breath pants as I struggled to keep some semblance of control.

Y/N had thrown her arms over her face, covering it from my eyes, and I knew it was because she was suffering as much as I was to keep still while we both adjusted. Smiling, I captured her wrists to pry them away so I could see her again, before mocking, “Don’t be shy. I know you can take it.” 

She didn’t like that. She was determined to let me know just how eager she was to take every inch of me, and that much was obvious not only in the fire in the eyes, but also by the way she started to writhe underneath me.

Chuckling,  I gave into what we both wanted, starting to fuck her roughly and curling my hand over her neck, cutting off the air just enough to get her complicit once more. “I know, I know,  darlin’. I was only messing with ya.”

She clawed at my still clothed chest, holding onto my shirt as I filled her over and over again, paying attention to every little sound that escaped her beautiful lips. God, she was so fucking tight. And when I picked up the movements, fucking her rough and dirty, just like she told me she wanted, it didn’t take long at all to have her thrashing desperately, her orgasm reaching her like a freight train.

“You cummin’, sweetheart?” I asked, holding onto her neck a bit more tightly just to feel her pussy clench around me. At her answering groan, a stupidly satisfied smirk painted my lips, still incapable of believing this was actually happening. “Who’s fucking you this good? I’m gonna let you breathe, but only if you scream my name when I do. Do it. Fucking scream it.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I cried out his name as stars took over my sight. I had no doubt my neighbors heard it, but in that moment, it was impossible for me to care about anything other than the feeling of Harry’s cock as he brutally pounded me like he was trying to prove to himself that he hated me.

“Fuck, kitten. If you weren’t so adamant in keeping me away, I could have made you scream like that in the office, had everyone know you were milking my cock so good.” The thought of my coworkers hearing the sounds of our frantic fucking only served to leave me wetter, especially when his hand trailed down my body to find my clit engorged and throbbing for him.

“Just another one, darlin’,” he pleaded when I tried to wriggle away from him, too fucking overstimulated to take the added attention to my little bud. “Just wanna feel you cumming one last time, c’mon, milk my cum, cum with me.”

And so I did.

When his body fell down on the couch next to me, I looked down to see his cum dripping down my thighs, making me shiver as the realization of what we’d just done finally settled over me. I’d fucked my boss. I let Harry finally fuck me.

“Come here.” Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me on a warm lap before I could spiral even further down my madhouse of worries. “Just gimme a few minutes, huh?” My look of confusion must have been obvious, because upon looking at me he just chuckled, squeezing me tighter against his chest. “You didn’t seriously think I was done? I still want to fuck you, sweetheart. This hasn’t nearly helped fulfill my desire for you.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I resorted to remain cuddling my former boss, our legs entwined over my sofa as I listened to his heart beat right under my ear. I could get used to this.

[sisterspooky1013]

Tell Me When by SisterSpooky1013

For @inuendo-outuendo for the 2021 X Files Smut fanfic exchange

3982 words / Rated E / Read it here on AO3

“Scully?” he asks, and she realizes she didn’t hear the question.

“Hm?”

“Do you want the last slice of pizza?” he repeats, pointing to the nearly empty box of Canadian bacon and pineapple.

She shakes her head, taking a deep breath to ground herself in the moment. They sit on the bed in his motel room, reviewing case notes while a rerun of MASH plays on the small TV. He’s been going on about how often arson investigators are wrong about the origin of the fire, and how the way that they determine that an accelerant was used has been widely disputed. That they should not form their opinions on this case around the theory that the fire was set intentionally.

She’s been trying to listen, trying very hard, but he’s wearing that shirt. That Queen T-shirt with the hole in the armpit. It’s the one he was wearing when-

She closes her eyes tight against the memory.

“You okay?” he asks, and the genuine concern in his voice really isn’t helping.

“Yeah, I’m just tired, I think I’ll go to bed,” she replies, rising from her seat beside him.

She passes through the adjoining door between their rooms, pulling her side closed before she flops onto the bed with an exasperated exhale. It’s been over a month and she expected it to get better with time, but it’s only getting worse.

That night had been a mistake. A stupid, thoughtless mistake. She’d made the conscious decision to step close and press her fingertips into his hip bones, steadying herself against him as she pushed up on to her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. Everything after that had been choices her body made with no concern at all for what her mind might have to say in the matter. It was like an out of body experience, her consciousness hovering above them and watching helplessly as she sated every desire she’d been suppressing for seven years and some months.

The phrase “it all happened so fast” had always struck her as cliche. And yet one second they were kissing, and the next his fingers were deep inside her, stroking her g-spot as she struggled to pull in a full breath. She blinked and his tongue was between her thighs, lapping at her as though her pussy alone could sustain his life, like he needed her more than air. She pushed gently at his head, making excuses, telling him he didn’t have to. When he pinned her hands to the bed and doubled his efforts, she came hard against his tongue, so hard she saw stars. She blinked again and now it was his cock that was inside her, slipping in and out fast and hard, knocking her rhythmically against his headboard until he wrapped his hand around her skull protectively. Blink again and she was in her car on the way home, chewing nervously on her lip as her consciousness settled back into her body. As it asked her what she had done. She might have tried to convince herself she’d imagined it, if not for the slick of his cum in her panties and the tenderness between her legs when she washed herself in the shower the next morning.

Regret. Shame. Embarrassment. Facing him again was the hardest thing she’s ever done, and she’s done some hard things. She’d knocked on his apartment door, unable to meet his eye when he answered. Unable to look at his face as she told him that it was a mistake, and how sorry she was for initiating it. He didn’t speak as she stared at his long bare toes against the hardwood, begging that they pretend it never happened. When she was finished, she forced a glance at him and his expression was neutral, open, accepting.

“Okay,” he’d said, and she left. They haven’t spoken of it since.

Peeling herself from her motel bed, she flips on the shower. Scrubbing the memory from her skin, she attempts to wash it down the drain along with the slickness that had gathered between her legs while thinking about it. She knows it was a mistake, and she knows that it can’t happen again. She knows this, and yet her body betrays her. The smell of his deodorant alone is enough to send her into a tailspin, drawing her to him like a heat seeking missile. There’s a certain way he groans when he’s frustrated that is remarkably similar to the sound he made while his lips were wrapped around her clit. She’s found herself trying to frustrate him just to hear it. She wants him again, so badly. But she can’t. She won’t.

Fully cleansed, she pulls on a T-shirt and cotton shorts. The shower did very little to quench her thirst and so she decides to try working as a distraction. She left Mulder’s room before she had a chance to review the most recent autopsy report, and she was in such a hurry to get out of there that she hadn’t even grabbed it. Moving to the adjoining door, she opens her side to see that his is slightly ajar, their standard signal that company is welcome. Pushing it open slowly, she opens her mouth to speak but stops short when she sees him.

He’s standing at the foot of the bed, facing her. A towel covers his head and he’s rubbing it roughly over his hair, drying off after a shower. He is fully nude, droplets of water trailing down his belly and beading in his dark thatch of pubic hair. He’s flaccid, but still impressive, the plump mushroom tip of him resting invitingly against his scrotum. Her heart starts thrumming in her chest like a jackhammer and she slides her tongue along her lower lip, breath coming out in pants like a dog in heat. She practically salivates at the sight of him, new wetness pooling where she had just washed it away.

When she forces her eyes higher, over the ripples of his taut abdomen and the smooth plain of his chest, she finds that the towel is now draped around his neck, and he’s looking at her curiously.

Her eyes widen in surprise and shock, her mouth rooting for words. Any words. Say. Words. Dana. A tiny smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m so sorry, Mulder. Um, your door was open,” she finally stammers, averting her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies, pulling the towel down and wrapping it around his hips. “Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?”

She can feel her cheeks redden even further, if that’s possible.

“I just...I came to get the autopsy report,” she says, hand still on the doorknob, gaze on the floor.

He walks over to the small desk and picks up a folder before bringing it to her. He’s so close, and so fresh and smooth, and so...Mulder. He holds the folder out to her and she can feel the warmth radiating off his skin. She takes it, dropping her arm to her side, and then just stands there. It’s like he has a magnetic pull on her that she can’t break away from. Compelled by a force more powerful than her self control, she stays right where she is.

“Something else I can do for you, Scully?” he asks in a syrupy voice, and she lifts her eyes to look at his face. His irises are wide and dark, his lips slightly parted. He’s aroused.

“Mulder…” she says, but can’t quite finish the thought. She doesn’t quite need to.

He steps a little closer, invading her space, inviting her into his. He’s still holding eye contact.

“Mulder, we shouldn’t. We can’t.” She scolds her own voice for coming out so weak, so unconvincing.

“Why?” he asks in a tender whisper that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“We agreed, Mulder. We agreed that it should never have happened. That it can’t happen again.”

He sighs. “I didn’t agree to anything, Scully. You said you wanted to forget it ever happened and I respected your wishes. That doesn’t mean I feel the same way.”

She drops her gaze to somewhere around his shoulder. “We work together, Mulder. It’s unprofessional, and inappropriate, and….we can’t.”

“Okay. Like I said, if that’s what you want then I’ll respect it. Sorry for being captain obvious here, Scully, but you’re the one who’s still standing in my room,” he says before adding in a low tone, “I can’t help but wonder if you’re trying to convince me or yourself.”

She drops her eyes even lower, frustrated with herself because he’s right, and her eye catches the tent at the front of his towel. He’s hard. She swallows. She looks up at his face again and she can see his jaw working with restraint, his breaths controlled and shallow. She’s told him no and he will never, ever violate that boundary; he respects her too much. Which is a real shame because right now she wishes that he would ignore everything she’s saying and throw her onto his bed.

No such luck. She has to make a conscious choice.

Her fingers trembling, she reaches out and tentatively touches the edge of the towel at his hips. His eyes widen almost imperceptibly, a stream of air rushing out of his nose. Letting the file drop to the floor, she brings her other hand to lie on his chest, feeling the quickened pace of his heartbeat under her palm and the smooth, shower-fresh warmth of his skin. His eyes are on her mouth and she opens it reflexively, inviting him inside. He’s stock still, unmoving. Wordless invitations are not sufficient. She’s verbally told him no, and now she must verbally tell him yes.

“Kiss me,” she says in a near-whisper, in someone else’s voice, with someone else’s intentions.

A tiny little groan echoes in the depths of his throat.

“I’d like to, Scully, but you just told me you didn’t want to do that. I’m not sure I can live through another morning-after regret conversation,” he says in reply, and there’s pain in his voice.

Her heart aches, knowing that she’d hurt him with her own self-judgment. She’d rejected him without meaning to.

“I’m sorry, Mulder,” she says softly, searching his face with her eyes. “It’s not about you, it’s me. I just...it’s not that I don’t want you. I do. But I’m afraid.”

His mouth puckers a little with emotion, maybe relief, knowing that it was never him she was running from. Knowing that she wants him.

He takes her hand from his chest, bringing it to his lips and kissing each finger tip one at a time as she watches, mesmerized. When he’s done, he places it back on his pectoral and covers it with both of his own.

“I would never hurt you, Scully,” he says with so much tenderness that tears prick at her eyes.

She nods softly. “I know,” she finally says, barely audibly.

He bends down then and kisses her, fully but sweetly. It’s a promise and an agreement, one they both commit to this time. As in all things, not knowing what the future holds but knowing that whatever it is they will get through it together.

She slips her index finger under the edge of the towel and tugs. It drops to the floor with a soft whoosh, draping around his feet. The kiss deepens, tongues gently exploring surfaces hard and soft, wet and hot. She wraps her arms around his waist, touching the skin of his bare back. Slipping her hands lower to cup his ass, she pulls him closer and they both groan when his growing erection pushes into her belly.

This isn’t happening so fast, she thinks. She is present, and consciously choosing this again and again. Choosing Mulder, choosing pleasure, choosing to let go for once.

He stoops down and slips his hands under her backside, lifting her up as her legs wrap around his hips. He takes two steps forward and her back is against the wall next to the open door between their rooms, his cock pushing against the juncture of her leg and crotch.

They kiss languidly as he thrusts gently against her, his hands snaking under her T-shirt to knead her breasts, pinching her nipples as she moans into his mouth. He’s so hard and so close, and she’s not wearing panties. The thought sends a throb to her clit. She shifts her hips around, dropping inches lower until he’s right there, the smooth head of him prodding against her opening, slipping right past the thin cotton of her shorts.

“Oh fuck,” he rumbles. “Is this okay?” he asks, needing to be sure before he goes any further.

“Yes,” she replies breathlessly, “please.”

He moans long and low, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck as he pushes and shifts, finding just the right angle until he slips inside, filling her.

Her head drops back against the wall, mouth falling open in ecstasy and relief, a single piercing cry echoing in the quiet hotel room.

He stays still for a moment, kissing her neck as his breath heaves in anticipation. When she tilts her head back down, taking his face between her palms and kissing him, he begins to slowly pump in and out. Long, deep, slow strokes. So different than before, so much less frenzied. The first time had felt like they were trying to finish before they got caught, or came to their own senses, or changed their minds. Now they take their time, kissing and stroking, touching and exploring, enjoying each sensation. The only sounds are the soft smacks of their lips, the occasional moans escaping their throats, and the wet slide of his length as he moves within her.

He pushes her shirt up to expose her breasts, dipping his head to take a peaked nipple between his lips and suckling gently as she scrapes her fingernails over his scalp in encouragement. Her back is starting to hurt from being crammed against the wall but she can’t bring herself to stop what they’re doing. Mulder must have been thinking something similar because he suddenly clutches her to him and walks them over to the bed, staying inside her all the way.

He lays her down on the edge of the bed, him standing before her, and pushes her shirt up and off, tossing it aside. Next he withdraws from her and tugs her shorts down and off her hips, his glistening hard-on bobbing in the space between them expectantly. She’s expecting him to slide back in and resume what they were doing, but instead he kneels on the floor between her legs. She looks down at him, preparing to speak. Preparing to object.

“If you don’t like this,” he interjects, “I won’t do it. But if you’re about to tell me not to bother because you think I’m just doing you a favor, you should know that this,” he pauses and drags his tongue in one long, hard stroke over her dripping sex, “is all I’ve thought about every day for the past month.”

Her eyes roll back in her head and she drops against the bed as he begins his assault, licking and lapping at her with all the devotion and enthusiasm she’s been conjuring in her own fantasies since that first night. His tongue is soft while his fingers are firm, spreading her open and dipping inside, flicking and grazing and pressing, skirting gently down over her asshole to gage her response, learning her. Two lessons in and he’s ready to graduate as an orgasm begins to tingle in her toes, building and building.

“Tell me,” he lifts his lips from her briefly to speak. “Tell me when you’re coming.”

She shudders, brought further just by the sound of his voice. She’s almost there. She feels the telltale clench that will bring her over the edge and he groans, feeling the same thing around his fingers, or his tongue. She doesn’t know what part of him is inside her but she doesn’t care. Her breath is hitching, her moans continuous, drying out her open mouth until she swallows hard, trying to gather enough saliva to effectively speak.

Swell, rising, peaking, up to the point she can go no higher, she can’t turn back, not that she wants to. It’s inevitable now.

“Oh, I’m coming,” she pants, and he growls as she falls apart, throbbing against his mouth as he continues to stroke her with his tongue. His fingers are deep inside pushing against her pulsing g-spot, making it longer, harder, better than it has ever been. After the initial explosion he continues to tease smaller waves of pleasure from her and she doesn’t think she’s ever continued to orgasm for this long. She hears a fricative sound and sees his arm pumping vigorously. He’s touching himself.

“Oh my god,” she croons, overwhelmed by sensation, by pleasure, by release.

It becomes too much and she touches the top of his head, signals him to stop, then pushes herself away from the edge of the bed and lays on the pillows at the head. He climbs up beside her, nestling into her side and kissing her face tenderly while his hardness prods her thigh.

She kisses his mouth, tasting herself on his tongue, and reaches down to stroke him firmly. He groans and bucks into her hand, and she lets her leg fall to the side, tugging on his arm until he rolls on top of her. He slips back in easily, she is so wet and ready, and they quickly resume the pace they’d enjoyed against the wall. Long, firm strokes accompanied by deep kisses and hands exploring. He lifts her leg and rests it on his shoulder, deepening his angle, and while she knows she can’t come again this soon it still feels so damn good. He’s breathing hard and his eyes are closed, his mouth falling open and his eyebrows lifting impossibly higher as he approaches his own release.

“Tell me,” she says, panting. “Tell me when you’re coming.”

His eyes shoot open and he looks at her with a ravenous expression, intense and frantic as he quickens his pace. The rhythmic slapping of their bodies as they meet is deafening, the soft nudge of his balls against her ass on each upstroke a sensation she will recall later and blush. His face crumples, the sweet agony of orgasm distorting his features into something beautiful and vulnerable.

“I’m coming, fuck, I’m coming,” he bellows, and she feels the hot spurt of him against her cervix, the throb of him against her still-sensitive walls.

She watches him raptly, mesmerized by this face that is new to her and so deeply intimate. Just when she thought she knew every expression that could inhabit his face, here is another one. Perhaps her new favorite.

He collapses, half his weight draped over her and half on the bed, and they lie there for minutes, catching their breath. Finally he stands and goes into the bathroom. She hears the tap running and he comes back with a dampened washcloth, dragging it gently between her legs. The gesture is so tender and sweet, it makes her chest ache.

He returns, turning off the light and slipping under the sheets to lie beside her, curling his lanky frame around her petite one.

“Stay,” he says in a pleading tone. He’s expecting her to say no.

“Okay,” she replies.

They fall asleep in each other’s arms.

&&

He wakes to the unfamiliar sensation of a naked backside tucked firmly against his groin. Blinking in the darkened room, he remembers and smiles against her hair, pulling in a deep breath full of her shampoo and the smell of their sex. His arm is draped over her waist, one hand cupping a warm breast, and he can feel himself growing hard against her. His initial reaction is to be embarrassed and try to conceal it, but then he has the thought that maybe he doesn’t have to anymore. As his cock stiffens, it finds itself wedged between his leg and the bottom of her ass cheek and he instinctively thrusts his hips a little, seeking friction. She stirs and he freezes, feigning sleep. Her breathing tells him that she’s awake, maybe having the same moment of realization he did. When she wiggles her backside against him a little, he’s sure. He groans and she does it again, more firmly this time. He allows his hand to squeeze gently at the breast currently in its possession and it’s her turn to moan. He’s thrusting against her in earnest now, his length threading between her ass cheeks until he feels her hand touch the head, pressing it against her opening until he routes inside.

Hot, wet, and tight. So unbelievably tight. He pushes his face into the crook of her neck and kisses the skin there frantically, pumping at a pace he won’t be able to keep up for long. Reaching down, he grasps her knee and pulls her leg up to hitch the ankle behind his thigh, then slips his hand down to touch the place where their bodies meet. His fingers slide along the length of his own cock as it pistons in and out of her, gathering moisture, before he circles her clit with his middle finger. He experiments with different levels of pressure and patterns of movement until he finds the one that makes her clench around him as her breath hitches in her throat. They haven’t said a word, but she is pulsing and whimpering and he’s close, so close that he hopes she gets there soon or he might leave without her. Suddenly, she hisses out “oh god, oh yes, oh god,” and then he feels her grip him like a vice. The feeling of her coming around him is overwhelming and he follows her over the edge, muttering obscenities into her ear as he pours himself into her.

This time there is no towel. He falls back asleep before he’s even fully retreated from her, clutching her to him like the prize that she is. Mine, mine, mine, he wants to tell her, but he doesn’t.

It’s 6 am when he hears the beeping of her alarm through the wall, and she’s untangling herself from his arms, sticky and sweat-damp. He’s so afraid that he’ll have to see the shame in her eyes as she tells him again that he was a mistake, so he pretends to be asleep. Before she crosses the boundary back into her own space, she leans over him and kisses his sleep-still lips, lingering for a beat. He’s too cautious to let himself think that’s a good sign; once bitten twice shy and all.

Ninety minutes later she joins him in the rental car, showered and pressed and erased of any sign of their entanglement. He watches her for indications that she’s upset; avoiding eye contact, stiff posture, set jaw. He sees none of that, just regular old Scully, carefully cradling her styrofoam cup of shitty motel coffee as she settles into the passenger seat. She glances at him and worry clouds her face as she catches his pensive expression.

“You okay, Mulder?” she asks, eyebrows furrowed in that way he finds adorable.

He nods reassuringly, a small smile on his lips. “Just tired, didn’t get enough sleep,” he offers, not thinking through the implication.

“Sorry about that,” she says softly before taking a sip of her coffee, and he can see the smile she’s trying to hide behind the cup.

“Don’t be,” he returns, starting the engine as a feeling of relief and contentment washes over him. “More than worth it.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

[your-brilliant-lady-m]

Part 4 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Glamour

You can call it however you want: kid's show logic, superhero disguise logic, magical girl show logic, cartoon laws, suspension of disbelief, etc. But the fact that nobody recognises Marinette, Adrien and others when they are suited up IS NOT BAD WRITING. It's one of the main laws of this genre. That's not because characters are stupid, okay? So, being frustrated that everyone in the show acts stupid about this "wearing a mask that covers only eyes" trope is strange. This criticism is not valid or fair.

But, this trope has to make sense in-universe as a worldbuilding and narrative element.

Miraculous doesn't give us much direct information on how glamour works. And in this case, I think we need both SHOW and TELL. Because if you don't establish the glamour rules clearly, you are going to run into problems and create unfortunate implications with your storytelling choices.

Appearance

Miraculous obviously gives our heroes magical glamour. In "Lady WiFi" we find out that masks can't be taken off. It's magic. No other explanation is needed.

Miraculous can slightly change the appearance of users (eyes, face shape, height and hairstyles). People can identify and notice the hairstyles of heroes (numerous Ladybug wigs, statue in Copycat). Jagged Stone points out the change of hair when he mistakes Chloe for Ladybug ("Antibug"). But it's just a costume. There is no magic that prevents Jagged from understanding that Chloe isn't Ladybug. So, how does it work? But it's forgivable because it's cartoon logic. Suspension of disbelief works here, I suppose. I won't judge this too harshly.

Glamour also obviously prevents people from making a connection that Marinette and Ladybug have identical hairstyles. So people know that Ladybug wears her hair in pigtails, but magic does not allow them to notice similarities.

Another important question. Does glamour work on Kwamis? Can they see who is behind the mask?

New York Special makes it clear that magic does not affect robots and they can see through glamour. Does that mean that Markov, AI built by Max, knows the identities of Ladybug and Chat Noir? And it's never addressed.

Plagg in "Frightningale" says that holders can subconsciously choose their superhero appearance. This is actually pretty interesting and I like this idea a lot. Except the show is not consistent with this. The transformation of Master Fu looks identical to Nathalie's. And we have seen how different from each other Ladybug and Black Cat holders looked in the past. At the same time, Master Fu and Nino have different takes on Turtle superhero suit.

Age Glamour

Does age glamour exist? Do people see Ladybug, Chat Noir and other heroes as adults even when they look like teenagers to the audience (their height and build are smaller even when they are transformed)? Is that why no one ever questions the fact that children nearly die on a daily basis?

I mentioned unfortunate implications earlier. Well, this is where they come into play. Let's talk about "Copycat". A lot of people discussed it before me, so I won't bore you with details.

When I watched "Copycat" for the first time Theo's crush on Ladybug didn't bother me, because I thought that he sees Ladybug as his peer, a girl who is about 20-23 years old. Theo is an artist, his character design is that of an adult. He has his own studio, its appearance indicates that he did serious commissions in the past. The guy has no idea that Ladybug is like 13.

But then we get "Heroes' Day" and "Ladybug". And Hawkmoth calls them "kids", which means that there is no age glamour. Others see Ladybug and Chat Noir as teenagers. Perhaps, other Miraculous users aren't affected by age glamour. Therefore regular people see all heroes as adults but other heroes are able to guess their age more or less correctly. But you must spell this thing out because the audience can interpret "Copycat" differently. If there is no age glamour, then Theo is crushing on a teenage girl and he is fully aware of this fact. And this doesn't look good for your show.

The "No Age Glamour" theory is further confirmed in "Sapotis" where Alya just straight up analyses voice recordings and says that Ladybug is a girl their age. If glamour exists then it should also cover technology. Kwami can't be photographed. Face and voice recognition software shouldn't be able to analyse transformed superheroes and detect their identities in any way.

Besides, after "Sapotis" Alya should definitely be sure that Ladybug is not 5000 years old (also not an adult), especially after she wore Miraculous herself and was one door away from detransformed Ladybug.

SEASON 4 UPDATE! There's no age glamour after all.

In "Furious Fu" Su Han calls Chat Noir a child without knowing his identity. It means that everyone knows their superheroes are teenagers. "Copycat" can't be saved from that, uh, subtext anymore. No one questions the danger of their job or the balance of their lives outside of the mask. No one doubts their competence after "Origins" ever again. No one becomes annoyed after being bossed around by two teenagers in spandex. You had many opportunities to drop these details into the narrative. Someone could have been akumatized over this (I will not be ordered around by some magical kids!).

I don't know why writers decided not to use at least this idea and slightly adjust "Copycat" if they got rid of the age glamour completely. It can be explained as kid's show logic, but unfortunately, I'm reluctant to do it. If many characters sympathise with akuma victims on-screen, why not with the teenage superheroes who must fight them?

New York Special had this weird focus on collateral damage out of nowhere (the damage done by sentimonster Robostus) and yet it has 0 effect on the main story. No one in Paris is pissed that their 2 teenage protectors weren't there.

Ironically, "Furious Fu" and that one remark made by Su Han also created unfortunate implications for other moments in the show. Just hear me out. Apparently, Jagged Stone wrote a "thank you" song for Ladybug knowing that she is 13-15 year old child back in "Pixelator". Fandom is more than happy to roast Lila for lying about saving Jagged Stone's cat and him writing her a "thank you" song. Fandom claims that Lila's tale could harm Jagged's reputation, when he wrote a song for teenage Ladybug several weeks prior. Meanwhile, in-universe this lie is 100% believable.

If we put on "realism glasses", then both this whole song situation and Theo's crush in "Copycat" have uncomfortable implications. However, the show's canon can't be viewed and criticised through "realism glasses". I admit that bits and pieces of my criticisms are affected by these "glasses", but, ultimately, I'm trying to be fair and concentrate only on things that can't be justified by "cartoon logic and worldbuilding".

Could the existence of age glamour solve this problem of unfortunate implications and other concerns mentioned above? YES. Is it better for the narrative? YES. Is essential for the story? NOT QUITE. Could the absence of age glamour be called an irredeemable storytelling flaw? NO.

Disclaimer: On a side note, only older audience can notice these implications. Children, the target audience, most likely won't understand this subtext simply because they don't have enough experience. So, perhaps, this criticism is unfair, because these moments only look weird to me as an adult. It's like an adult joke in a cartoon that you don't get until you reach a certain age.

There's nothing technically wrong with adult writing a "thank you" song for a teenager. It's just an expression of gratitude. However, unfortunately, we live in a world, where adults normally wouldn't write songs for teens to express gratitude only. In real life similar actions would imply pedophilia and would be actively scorned by the public. No one would risk their reputation like that even if their intentions were genuinely pure and sincere. But this show can't be viewed through "realism glasses", because it's a cartoon and in certain cases we as the audience must use suspension of disbelief and pretend that certain things are possible for plot to happen.

Su Han also wants to give Ladybug and Black Cat to adults. Why didn't Master Fu do this then? Writers don't give us any explanation. Throughout the show we never question this up until the moment it's revealed that adults don't have time-limited powers. Then comes "Furious Fu". Story suddenly becomes self-aware here. Because apparently nothing prevented Fu from giving the most powerful Miraculous to adults who won't have time limit and will be more effective against Hawkmoth (see part 3 for more details).

I have a very good example of Age Glamour done right. It works in the story. There is no confusion or unfortunate implications. There is like one plothole connected to the glamour (it's been years and I still can't forgive them for Cornelia and Caleb) but otherwise, it's a pretty solid example of both show and tell. Clearly, writers wanted to avoid uncomfortable implications which are present in "Copycat". I am talking about W.I.T.C.H. comic books and animated series.

If you are not familiar with it, I'll give you a brief explanation. The story follows 5 girls, the Guardians of Kandrakar who are chosen to protect their world and parallel ones from evil. They receive magical powers from the amulet known as the Heart of Kandrakar. Their powers are based on elements: fire, water, earth, air and energy. Our main characters are about 13-15 years old. In the animated series they are younger and they attend middle school, making them 12-14 years old. But the transformation makes them look 18-20. They look like young women to each other and to other people. At the same time, people can recognise them, their looks and voice don't change. Most people don't know that they are really teenagers when they are not transformed and these people don't know that magic can make them look older. That's why everyone treats Guardians like adults when they are transformed. Comics establish this fact in the very beginning. In first issues characters state that they look older, we are also shown this multiple times.

In fact, one of the first side plots revolves around the fact that Irma uses her powers to sneak into the disco club to meet up with her crush. Irma is 13 at the beginning of the series, she is a high school freshman. Her crush, Andrew Hornby is a senior guy 17-18 years old. Irma has liked him for a long time and wants to impress him, so she decides to be clever about this. She transforms into her Guardian form of the 18-year-old girl, hides her wings, sneaks out to the club after her parents are asleep without any problem, and meets Andrew, who obviously doesn't recognise Irma in this girl who looks about his age. Smitten Andrew offers her a ride and 13-year-old Irma doesn't understand the implication of that offer, so she accepts. And, obviously, he decides that she is interested in more than just a ride home, since she agreed, and the comic implies that he fully intended for them to have sex in the backseat of his car. But Irma understands the implication only when Andrew tries to kiss her. She panics and turns him into a frog. And she actually pulls this "I need to look mature" trick more than once over the course of the series.

It's not the only situation where this age difference is handled well and makes sense. People who know the main characters in everyday life remark on their older appearance during transformation. Sometimes people flirt with Guardians when they are transformed. In one of the side-novels centred around Cornelia, she is worried that the prince of the realm they helped to save from famine would try to marry her. That never happens, but Cornelia actually brainstorms with her friends about how to tell the prince that she is really 15.

There are many other plot points where this happens, but I think that you got the idea. I really like how "Age Glamour" was handled in W.I.T.C.H.

How do we fix this? Create the situations where people offhandedly mention "Age Glamour" in the presence of Marinette or Adrien, use Kwami for this.

"Don't worry, dear. Chat Noir and Ladybug are adults, who know what they are doing. I am sure that they will handle this. "

Theo could say: "Oh, I wonder which university Ladybug goes to?"

"So, does that mean that other people see us as grown-ups, Tikki?"

A few words and boom, problem solved. Then allow the "show don't tell" rule do the rest.

[ask-fantasy-sanders-sides]

Roman are you okay?

      Janus studied the scene before him carefully, though it was difficult to discern anything with the overwhelming smell of rotten wood and general lack of light. He could sense the presence of something enormous and warm-blooded several feet away, with another creature scurrying around it. It was the Hag, he could tell; with a slightly-cooler exoskeleton plating her massive, slightly-warmer body, it was hard to sense where any of her was at all. Frustrated with the failing of his heatsense, Janus tried to get close enough to see better without entering battle range. Her massive head and too-long arms were easier to track, but the general blur of her body was infuriating. 

      (That would have to do, Janus supposed. He didn’t really intend on helping in the fight, just observing what his new companions were capable of. Various visions had told him they weren’t the most cohesive group, but it was possible these dangerous circumstances would inspire more of an effort from them… Besides, Logan and Patton seemed a more competent team than any combination with Roman, so he had higher hopes than usual.)

      Patton and Remus sprang into action first, being the fastest of the group. Patton immediately charged for the Hag, ready to defend the injured-looking dire bear at any cost. Either he was confident in his ability to evade backstabbing attempts, or he expected none to come. Janus knew it was the latter; Patton would never expect a friend to turn on him, even in the bestial rage of a blood curse. 

      Janus frowned at this, from his far vantage point. Patton was sentimental, sure, but he wasn’t stupid. Even he must be aware that “Roman” wasn’t fully conscious right now. Getting between the Beast and it’s target may just cause it or the Hag to turn on him, as the smaller prey. He should have let the two massive creatures fight it out first, attacking from the sidelines while they kept each other busy.

      Remus flicked his wrists — activating both of his enchanted bracelets and summoning his morning stars in his hands — then released an enraged battle cry and charged. As often happens when he flies into his battle-trance, yellow lightning edged with dark green smoke erupted from his skin in tiny fireworks, and the magic infecting him went haywire. Right before any blow could connect with either creature, Remus disappeared altogether.

      Janus covered his face reflexively, silently cursing their shared affliction. Any other outburst may have been explainable, but he just had to teleport. Surely Logan would have questions for them now, questions that were already giving Janus a headache. He turned to look for the bard in question, finding him walking away from the fight. 

      Janus watched, confused, as Logan meandered towards some giant mass of warm material. Logan summoned several orbs of soft light to aid in his investigation, and Janus saw that it was the corpse of a giant wolf — this "Jasper" he kept hearing about. 

      “Are you not going to help?” Janus asked as Logan studied the fallen beast. There was no real bite to his tone; He was more amused by Logan’s nonchalance then offended by his lack of investment in their battle. 

      Logan looked up from the tiny vials he was fishing from his bag, looking out at the fight. Almost as an afterthought, Logan remembered the limitations of Patton's mortal eyes, and floated a few of his lights over to circle the Hag for him.

      “There is nothing I can do when there is only one opponent.” Logan answered quickly, looking back to his object of study, “With Patton and Remus in melee range, my spells would hurt them as much as her. Besides, it seems Roman’s mostly killed her already.”

      Janus turns back to witness the battle, reminded of his original intention. The Hag has scurried off of Roman, and stares furiously down at Patton. 

      It’s hard to tell if she’s injured or not, as it always is with Hags. Logan clearly assumes that she’s dying, but Janus knows better; Green Hags always look like they are on the verge of death, just like their cursed swamps. Especially Blightmothers, who contort their chosen attack forms to make horrible expressions, their flesh appearing to sag and melt from their bones, their bones snapping and rattling as if overexerted. It’s all a ruse, a defense mechanism; Hags take their sickly-looking, bug-like forms to make their opponents think they’ve already won the fight, so they’ll misjudge the Hag’s true strength. 

      (Only Virgil would have been able to see through the trick for us, if he was here, Janus remembers with a frown. Though he witnessed first-hand the battle prowess of the freshly escaped Blackhand, it is always a sore reminder when he and Remus are forced into a battle without him. Sentiment aside, he is a crucial member of their team’s defense. Janus can only speculate how valuable an asset he was in his youth, before the sunlight stole so much of his power from him…)

      (Not so interested in the back-and-forth of the battle anymore, Janus lets his thoughts linger a little longer on Virgil. The Drow always gets so horribly homesick whenever they return to this Colony. It’s been much too long since their last delve into the Underdark. Janus will never understand what draws him to that wretched core of the earth, but he can’t deny the way Virgil glows there, and the way he wilts like a plucked flower away from it.)

      (No doubt, he’s been using those seeds to keep himself awake again, avoiding the memory-dreams that are the first sign of his withdrawal sickness. Some medicine from this place may help him for a while, but soon it will become unbearable again...)

      (All of this is to say that Virgil is already in a bad mood. Janus is not eager to discuss their relationship, seeing little hope for a smooth reunion. His Mother would take his side if he wanted to avoid them altogether, as well, and help hide him away. Remus insists that Virgil “can’t hide from him for long,” but Janus knows an empty threat when he hears it.)

      Patton has been ducking and weaving around the duo of monsters, carefully avoiding Roman’s random swings while trying his own against the Hag. It doesn’t look like he’s landed many, relying on the spotty lighting of Logan’s spell, but that hasn’t stopped him yet. The Hag is now wholly concerned with him — ignoring Roman, who leers from side to side as if dazed. He’s wisely been avoiding looking directly in her eyes, to stave off any magic she might attempt on him.

      The Hag catches one of Patton’s punches in her fist, wincing from the blow but undeterred. She twists his arm, which fits soundly in her much-larger claws, until it makes a sickening pop. Patton lurches backwards under her head to keep his shoulder from dislocating, but as soon as they make eye contact, Patton disappears in a puff of smoke.

      Janus stares incredulously, wondering what just happened to the poor Halfling. The Hag pays him no mind, turning back towards Roman defensively; his stance has become solid again, a milky haze gone from his eyes. (It was magic, then, that was causing his dizziness...)

      Janus looks down at his feet when he senses the movement of something small approaching him. He flicks the hidden latch on his cane and pulls the serpent’s head, revealing the rapier hidden inside. He fully expects the Hag to have animated some vines to keep him at bay while she’s busy with the bear. 

      Instead, he watches a small frog leap towards him, landing in front of his boot.

      Janus stumbles backwards, knowing green hags have a habit of turning things into frogs — familiars, bombs, their enemies — and then it occurs to him to examine the creature’s eyes. Sure enough, they are the same crystal blue of Patton’s. Janus can even see rings of dark brown around its eyes, and an odd pattering of grey where he wears his oversized sweater.

      Janus considers for a moment if it would be better to leave him like this, avoiding whatever further meddling he could do in the battle between the Hag and the Beast. Remus will make it back to their location soon, and it would be better if Patton remained out of his way…

      But, he quickly decides against that. After all, now Janus is the only one besides Roman in the Hag’s sight, and he would rather have the tanks soaking up her attacks; Better Patton than him, in any case.

      Pretending he still expected Patton to be some creature of the Hag’s making, Janus slices down at him with his sword, cutting the little amphibian in half. 

      He tries not to take too much entertainment in the surprise on the Halfling’s face when he returns in a flash of smoke. Janus smells his blood, though the cut that remains isn’t deep. He feels a little bad for that, though it can’t be helped.

      “Wha—” Patton gasps in pain, clutching the thin wound stretching over his stomach, “You stabbed me!”

      “I didn’t.” Janus lies easily, feigning offense. And, technically, it’s not a lie — Virgil went to great lengths to explain the difference between a stab and a slash, after all. He wipes the slime off of the blade before sliding his hidden sword back into the cane-like hilt.

      “How did you know that would work?” Patton mumbles, his voice breaking on the last word, caught between offense and awe. Janus simply shrugs,

      “I didn’t.”

      He seems to have decided on offense now. Janus can’t hide his grin, more amused then threatened by Patton’s outrage, though he feels dread prick at his spine when Patton’s expression changes again. Quickly putting the wound aside, Patton grabs Janus’s sleeve and pulls him forward.

      “Look out!” Patton cries, but it’s too late. As Patton tries to pull him out of harm’s way, the Hag’s huge, gnarled hand wraps forward beside Janus and closes around his face, the only exposed skin she can find.

      Janus feels squishy, bulbous bumps of boils rapidly growing under the skin of her fingers, having the good sense to close his eyes right before they burst.

      Patton wrenches him free of her grasp, and Janus resists the urge to vomit at the warm slime now coating his face. Patton stands protectively in front of him while Janus attempts to wipe it off. To his horror, the sticky, green substance melts into his skin, soaking in in seconds. The Hag turns back to guard against Roman’s next charge, seemingly satisfied.

      Disgusted and insulted, Janus waits with bated breath for whatever pain will come as a result of the odd attack… And nothing comes. He studies himself for a moment, searching for some sort of curse or burn, but all he can feel is a buzz under his skin.

      Within seconds, he realizes what’s just happened and laughs.

      (Poison. She tried to poison me, Janus thinks to himself with a smug grin, Better luck next time, withered old crone!)

      Patton turns back to him, dumbstruck. Luckily, before Janus is made to explain himself, a roar turns both their attention back in front.

      Roman has fully recovered from the confusion spell now, and pounced on the unwitting Hag. She hisses and screeches, lashing out at him wildly as he slams his front paws down on her, crushing her into the mud. She attempts many times to turn invisible and slither away, but she can’t seem to fully escape his attacks. 

      Patton, Janus, and Logan simply watch in terror as they slice into each other with monstrous claws, as terrified by Roman’s ferocity as the Hag’s. She’s clearly outmatched now, even with what damage Roman had sustained from Jasper before she interfered. If her confusion spell had held true she surely would have killed him. But, as it stands, she’s trapped.

      A constant stream of slamming attacks removes her ability to cast, and she can’t compete in terms of strength. Roman finally reaches down and bites her terrible head, crushing it between his massive jaws.

      At this point, Janus assumes the clearing is just as silent for the other two as it is for him. None of them move, either stunned or frightened into silence in front of this beast that may not be friend or foe. None of them want to be the first to test it.

      Of course, this is the perfect time for Remus to come roaring back into view.

      His battle-haze is gone, but his weapons are raised and eyes locked squarely on Roman’s flank. He charges him, fully intending to bury the spikes of his morning stars into the bear’s fur, but Roman had more than ample time to see him coming. Still consumed by bestial rage, Roman reaches out with one massive paw and bats Remus away. 

      The blow, which seemed less than a flick of the wrist for Roman, sends Remus careening towards a tree. Its rotten trunk collapses to the side when Remus slams into it, his weapons disappearing into their bracelets. Remus’s feral grin remains. 

      He pries himself from the collapsed wood, charging towards the beast again, bare-handed. Janus can’t find it in himself to be surprised, not after their long years living together, but he is surely impressed. 

      Remus swings a fist at Roman’s front paw, but Roman is faster, raising it above his head. Before Remus can put up his guard, Roman’s paw slams down on him, flattening him to the ground right beside the Hag’s body. He collapses with a grunt of pain, and Logan springs into action, rushing towards Roman himself. Janus hardly has the opportunity to be furious with the glass giant’s recklessness before Logan is speaking, a soft blue glow in his eyes,

      “Roman, stop! The battle is over!”

      Janus knew Remus would protest to that, had he the air to speak. Still, as if understanding Logan’s protest, Roman leans his head down to sniff curiously at the one speaking to him.

      To his credit, Logan doesn’t shrink away. He stands there, dangerously close to those giant teeth, letting Roman examine him. He plants his staff into the ground, using it as leverage to stay standing when Roman’s breath nearly knocks him over.

      Then, miraculously, Roman lets Remus up. He scoots forward a little bit as Remus gets to his feet, getting a good look at the four people around him. For a fae-beast in it’s natural terrain, he looks remarkably graceless when he lumbers backwards onto his massive hind legs, sitting with a resounding thud.

      Roman reaches forward with his trunk-like arms, delicately wrapping his paws around the two close enough to him and dragging them into his torso. Like a massive, doughy teddy bear, he scoops them up and hugs them to his chest, contentedly dipping his head down towards his friends.

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Ask 118     (( @snowydragon10​ , @renee-niles​ ))

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Next 

Game Start

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Rules

Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!

Available for questions: Logan, Patton, Remus, Janus, Annie, Virgil, and…Roman?

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     The fight with the Grandmother Hag concludes, with her, her daughters, and her wolves soundly defeated!

      But now, of course, we have another problem to deal with in their wake...

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((UPDATED: If you missed the blog announcement, check it here!))

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Wrong Move

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Word Count: 1500

Warnings: Kidnapping, slight mentions of drug and physicall abuse (If you squint, but lets just be cautious, shall we?)

Author’s Note: I am once again killing two birds with one stone. This was submitted by the lovely @emmice9 for my 1500 follower challenge. And I’ll be using this for @hellotvshowtrash ​‘s #february2021promptchallenge. I would also like to say that this is A BRIEF LOOK into a new series that will be coming later on in this year. All because my brain cant keep ideas to one shots. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy. 

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. 

The world has changed drastically over the centuries. The world people used to know had changed when the creatures that roamed the darkness had come out of hiding. Vampires became the superior species, creating a completely different hierarchy within the world. Those that came from money were free from the torment and slavery of the Vampires. Werewolves and witches were far and few between. And when they emerged they were a force to be reckoned with that the vampires let them be. So long as they weren't attacked, they never retaliated and stuck to their own.

For the L/N family, they had come from money. Their wealth bought their freedom from the vampires. For the two children in the family they'd never have to fear being human. For the eldest, Alexander, he wished to continue their bloodline to ensure there was a truce between the vampires and the humans of their family. But for the youngest, Y/N, she wished to become a vampire and when she was younger, her parents made a deal with the Mikaelsons to ensure her status would carry over as a Vampire.

While most girls in her age dreamed of becoming something of themselves in the world that was created around them, Y/N wanted nothing more than to be a vampire. One that wanted to change things for the better. And the way the L/Ns had it, their children were going to mend bridges.

Unfortunately, the matriarchs of the L/Ns were killed in an accident that left them as orphans. Alexander being the eldest was given the burden of being the head of household and he uncovered his parents' secrets. Before their death, his parents made a deal with another Vampire. And with their death, it broke the deal between them. It left them on the verge of bankruptcy and being tossed in with the other humans.

Y/N stood outside the double wooden doors as she listened to the muffled sounds of her brother arguing with a vampire. Alexander was in there for more than an hour speaking with the vampire that held the deal with their parents. Seeing as it was a matter for the head of house, Y/N couldn’t be in the room. But where she stood she could pick up on her fair share of things.

Most of it had been about money, or the lack thereof. Being in debt to a vampire left any human feeling unease and Alexander was no different. Especially as he looked across the table at Tristan De Martel. If there was one thing they learned, the De Martels were the downgrades of the Mikaelsons. Where the Mikaelsons held their deals in good faith, the De Martels could find a loophole within the contract to work in their favor. And that was what happened with their parents.

Y/N’s heart dropped when she heard her name being brought up in the conversation. While She couldn’t hear what was being said, she knew it had upset her brother. His voice had raised while the vampire’s remained calm. The longer her brother yelled, the more worry filled her. And the words she picked up on hadn’t made anything easier.

When the doors opened, a chill ran through Y/N as she looked over at her brother, attempting to ignore the way Tristan had gazed at her as he walked passed. The look on her brother’s face had told her this wasn’t the end of things. That the conversation he just had wasn’t an easy one and he was left with hardly any choices.

“Were you able to come to an agreement?” She asked as soon as she knew Tristian would be out of earshot, even for a vampire.

Alexander nodded as he ran his hand over his face. “One that I do not fully agree on.”

“Well?” She asked after a moment of her brother not saying anything. While she may have been able to pick up on bits and pieces of the conversation, it wasn’t everything she needed to know. And when her brother hesitated once more fear filled her.

“What did you promise the De Martels?” She asked as she took a step towards him. He didn’t know how to answer her. Not when it had to do with her. But the guilt she saw written on his face had told her everything, causing her to shake her head. “No.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He said as he kept his eyes on hers, even as they filled with tears.

Y/N took a step back in disbelief. “No.” She repeated. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I had no other choice.” He said as he watched the tears form in her eyes.

“I have a deal with the Mikaelsons, you can’t just go and make a deal with the De Martels to hand me over.”

“If it means keeping our family name in good standing, I’ll do what is needed.” He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. But they had been true. Tristan had offered a deal and Alexander jumped on it. Tristan would clear the family’s debt and void out his parents contract if he got Y/N in return.

“You’ve sentenced me to die.” Anger began building within her. “Tristian’s humans never last.”

“You were going to die anyway.” He responded quickly, earning a hard slap across his face.

“On my terms!” She yelled. “Not by the hands of a vampire that keeps his own psychotic sister locked up! When Elijah finds out-”

“Your ties with Elijah no longer matter. Yes he gave our parents his word that you would join them. Your infatuation with each other sealing that deal. But this decision can’t be easily taken back and you know that.”

While they both know going against either families was a risk. But with the De Martels, there was a deadline that was fast approaching them. Y/N ran her hand along her face and shook her head as she turned away from her brother. She couldn’t handle this.

“Elijah might know how to get-” Before Y/N could even finish her sentence, her brother knocked her over the head with the nearest object he could reach, leaving her unconscious.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He said as he crouched down beside her. "But I refuse to become one of them."

_____

The De Martels knew what Y/N would ment to the Mikaelsons. She was to be their saving grace. A chance to mend the world with siblings as a Vampire and her Human brother. She was also Elijah’s soon to be wife. Tristan knew he was playing a dangerous game. And because he knew her worth, he kept her hidden, away from any prying eyes that could possibly leak where she was.

Much like the other humans in De Martel's care, she had been drugged, used and abused by those within Tristan's circle. As she laid in the dark damp cell, all she wanted was to die. Her colorful dreams of the future faded to black and white wishes of death and peace as time passed.

Anger had filled Elijah the moment he stopped by to see Y/N and Alexander told him what happened. While furious with her brother he knew he'd always keep his word to Y/N to not ever harm him. It took him over a month to find Y/N's whereabouts. The moment he had her location there was no stopping him.

Elijah stormed through the De Martel home. Anyone that dared to stand against him had their hearts ripped out in a split of a second. Bodies and hearts had been left in his wake as he made his way through. Each one brought him closer to finding Y/N.

When the door keeping her in was forced open, Y/N whimpered in fear at the sound, unable to see who walked in from her position. She hadn't even begun to heal from the last time that door opened. But even as the footsteps neared, she couldn't get herself to move, her body too weak to try. Panic filled her as the footsteps ceased right next to her.

"Shh, shh," Elijah began, trying to keep Y/N calm. "It's me."

As he did, it wasn't hard to see how beaten and bruised she had been. Bite marks covered her body in several places. He had never felt so much anger before at seeing her injuries.

"'Lijah." It had been a whisper, but he heard it loud and clear.

"I got you. I promise I'm going to take care of you, okay?" He had every intention of never letting her leave his sight. He even made the promise to himself that he'd kill the De Martels with his own two hands.

But before the comfort and relief of being free set in, Y/N was rudely awakened by the sound of the door opening and shutting by the unwelcome guest.

Always and Forever Tags:

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[siriushxney]

: ̗̀➛ searing light | chapter two

— pairing ; darkling!dream x sun summoner!reader

— au ; shadow & bone

— wordcount ; 2.6k

— warnings ; fire, reader gets pushed around, rude soldiers/commanders

— note ; welcome to chapter two of searing light! I actually really enjoyed writing this part and coming up with how to twist the original story in my own little way — I hope you enjoy!

previous | next

when the moon was high and the sound around you was minimal, thoughts flowed easier — flowed into the streams of what if’s and premature regret and mourning. whatever happened the next day would either be a successful day — one to be celebrated with a feast unlike any other, or it would be another tick carved into the wood, next to the dozens of them that already were scratched in. you were sure that even those numbers were off, for when a certain number was reached without success, people started to lose faith.

this skiff however was designed for greatness — made by the hands of the second army, reinforced with grisha steel and said to be lighter — faster.

something wasn’t right.

if there is one thing that you had learned through your tough life growing up in ravka, it was that when your gut told you something — you trusted it. if your gut told you to avoid someone, you avoided them; if it told you to take a different path, you took the next path over; if it told you that no matter what anyone said, something was going to happen — you had to do something to stop it.

if not for yourself, for wilbur.

—

when the sun rose, and your boots were laced tightly — you made your way to the tent full of maps, careful to make sure your superiors were nowhere to be seen. the lot of them were seated in the food tent as they discussed today's trip and how long they thought it would last in the fold.

they had no shame when it came to talking about the failure of the second army when it came to this, and had even less shame when talking about the lives of their own people being lost. if ravka didn’t lose the war from the raging countries surrounding it, the fold was guaranteed to do the job for them.

walking into the tent that looked the exact same as it always did, despite being situated in a different part of ravka that you were used to. there were maps of different sizes displayed and thrown about, a rough and stained carpet laid on the grass and uncomfortable benches that you had known all too well pushed underneath tables.

quick feet brought you to stand in front of a cabinet which held map’s upon map’s — some of this part of ravka, and some of the ravka on the other side of the fold. the ravka that people on that side referred to as west ravka.

free from the royal blood on ravka’s soil that sat stuck behind the black barrier, west ravka sought out to become their own standing country — a hope that the fold would vanish, no longer clouded their minds. only the thought of independence and selfishness flowed through them.

“where are you…?” your tongue poked slightly out of the side of your mouth as you sited through the heap of yellow tinted paper, hoping to find anything and everything you could on what laid on the other side of the black wall.

beyond the fold - ravka

“aha,” the text at the top of the map caught your eyes. sifting through the numerous ones below it, you confirmed that you had found what you had come looking for. taking the maps in hand, making sure each was rolled up tightly so you could fit as many as you could into the small space, you rushed over to the trash bin in the corner.

with a look around the tent, and several peaks over your shoulders, you pulled out the box that weighed heavily in your pocket, despite weighing nothing compared to what you were used to carrying around.

what you were about to do would either get you a one way ticket to see the generals or aboard the skiff — either or, you could end up dead as a result.

a sharp flick of your wrist, a spark, and a light flowed from the tip of the match — the wood below it becoming charred as the flame ate at the wood with every second it burned bright. with one last look at the fully pieced together maps, and your ticket onto the skiff — you let the match fall — turning your back to it immediately, and not wasting any time as you fled the scene.

the sight of smoke wafting from the top of the tent, group’s of gasps and hurried feet rushing to it sounding from behind you.

blue eyes watching as you paced away hurriedly.

—

“well I don’t know what we're going to do.”

“we have to do something!”

“you think I don’t know that?!”

“we need to re-draw all those maps or the general will have our heads-“

“excuse me?” heads snapped in your direction, all your superiors looking at you with harsh eyes and deep frowns.

“what?”

you held back the scowl that wanted to cross your face at the women's tone, but for the sake of winning them over, you held yourself back. “If I may, I volunteer to go through the fold,” they looked at you with wide eyes. “i’ll re-draw everything-“

“you’re merely one mapmaker with thousands of miles to cover — we need more than one cartographer,” the woman shook her head as she looked down, her words directed at her fellow generals.

the other general thought, his eyes darting between you and the woman. “you’ll board the skiff shortly — alongside the rest of your squadron,” you fought to keep the look of shock off your face. “alert your tent of the decision immediately, you are dismissed.”

“sir, with all due respect-“

“you are dismissed soldier, that is an order.”

you couldn't fight orders — with a small nod and downcasted eyes, you shuffled your way back to your tent full of guilt and mind racing with second thoughts. all you wanted to do was get onto the skiff alongside wilbur, just you and youself alone — but in the process of doing so and with a selfish decision on your part, you had just put people who you had spent the last few years with in jeopardy.

it wasn't your intention at all.

lifting the flap of material that acted as a makeshift door to the tent, you walked in quietly, unsure of when to break the news or even how to start.

carey, a boy that you had gotten to know well over the years and someone who you considered to be one of your only friends alongside wilbur, stood at your arrival. his smile was bright and large.

“hey Y/N, do you wanna go for a walk? maybe watch the send-off together-”

“we have to board the skiff.”

heads around the tent shot up at your words, some eyes of questioning and confusion, others full of fear or anger.

luna shot up and paced to you hastily, giving you no time to react or prepare yourself as she grabbed you by the lapels of your uniform and swung you around so your backside was against the table.

with the force that she had shoved you into the hard wood, utensils and paper had gone flying — and your hands found purchase on the rough and spilled wood as you tried to steady yourself — jagged and pointed pieces pricking your skin.

“what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything-” you tried to pry her hands off of your uniform, but the sheer power she had was nothing you could fight with.

she was like a mouse who could kick a cats ass.

“luna let them go-”

“can it carey! they aren't into you so why don’t you just mind your own business and find someone else to fawn over,” it was no secret the boy had a crush on you — but in the heat of war and the constant fear for your life, there was no room for him or anyone else.

her fists still gripped your jacket harshly — your body jerking with every movement she made. “now, tell me what you did to get us all on that death trap, or saints help me-”

“whats going on here?” luna’s head had snapped over immediately, her hair whipping behind, and her hands disappearing just as fast as she turned.

tilting your head to the side, the first thing you noticed was the colour that stuck out like a sore thumb in the tent — bright purple. eyes trailing up the figure, you next noted the blonde hair that was draped over their shoulders. and lastly, the blue eyes that could hypnotize anybody they were simply batted at.

it was the grisha that you had made eye contact with a few days prior.

“nothing-” the grisha sent one look to luna and the girl immediately quieted.

“are you okay?” the grisha questioned you suddenly — the harsh look that once covered her face now melted into something more sincere — more concerned.

you pushed yourself up from your uncomfortable position that luna had managed to bend you in over the table, carey’s hands helping you in any way he could despite being brushed off. “I’m fine, thank you for your concern,” you stepped away from luna hesitantly — unsure of what the girl would do with her eyes still holding a deadly intent.

“I was sent here to lead you to the skiff — the group of you are running behind,” the girl mainly spoke to you, her eyes wandering as she spoke however. “I’d advise you to get your materials and get to the skiff immediately — anybody found at the camp who should be on the skiff will be punished.”

carey rushed to collect his things as soon as the words were muttered, luna trailing behind stubbornly, only leaving behind a glare directed at you, before her back was fully turned.

with the bag on your hip containing everything that you had needed, you made a move to exit the tent — the grisha following behind you immediately.

“you know I do have to ask — what were you thinking?” she asked as soon as the two of you had exited the tent.

“excuse me?”

“you exited a tent that had smoke pouring out of it, and didn't bat an eye when panic washed over everyone — I wanna know what you were thinking setting whatever was in there on fire-” you hand gripped her kefta quickly, your eyes wide and mouth opened in shock.

“be quiet would you?! I’ll explain everything if you just keep your voice down,” her eyes didn't meet your own, only observing your hand that wrinkled the tough purple fabric on her arm. you released it immediately with a short and quiet apology.

the blue eyed grisha looked up to you, to the skiff, and back to you — her eyes holding a glimmer of amusement. “I know you did it, and I have a feeling I know why you did it too — your lover boy is on the skiff.”

lover boy?

looking at the skiff, you could see wilbur, plain as day, looking at the two of you with confusion — or more to say confusion towards the grisha stood by your side, and anger towards you and your appearance.

“I don’t have a lover boy.”

“the tall curly haired one — it’s not hard to tell.”

you grimaced at that. you and wilbur were nothing more than friends, siblings to say the least — raised at the hip with minds so alike it was scary.

“that so-called ‘lover boy’ you speak of is wilbur, and I can guarantee there's nothing going on there.”

the grisha hummed quietly, her eyes bouncing between the two of you before finally sighing. “If you say so,” she offered you her hand. “I’m niki.”

as you went to introduce yourself, the harsh call of your name interrupted you — wilbur yelled your name as he dodged and squirmed his way through the crowd of people who made a move to board the skiff. you turned back to niki with a bashful smile.

“why am I being told that you're crossing the fold?” wilbur distanced himself from niki — unsure and untrusting of anyone who was gifted in the small science.

“because I am?”

“no you’re not.”

“yes they are.”

you knew wilbur wanted to snap back at the girl with a ‘I wasn't talking to you’ card, but the coat that adorned her body stopped him in his tracks. he had told you once before when the two of you passed a group of grisha women at your old camp that “grisha women were scarier then grisha themselves.”

wilbur was scared of the grisha in front of you.

“yes I am, and you can’t do anything about it,” you tried to bring the atmosphere to somewhere different — wilburs eyes coming back to you instead of the offput stare he was once giving niki.

“all aboard! skiff is leaving in t-minus two minutes!”

“well, that's our que,” niki gripped both your sleeve, and wilbur’s and dragged you to the bridge that led up onto the skiff. bodies rushing up, and some attempting to rush down — hands dragged them back on.

some people were in a frenzy to get off the skiff, while some stood stiffly looking out into what they were about to enter — eyes holding nothing more than fear and questioning.

questioning if they would return.

“you have nothing to fear, I promise — the new skiff was built by my colleagues and me. it was built to go faster,” niki spoke, her hand laying gently on your shoulder as she guided you and wilbur to stand on the side of the deck. “all you need to remember is to stay quiet, don’t light any lanterns, and most importantly — keep your head down.”

the squeak of the bridge’s hinges echoed throughout the skiff — the wood and steel alike being pulled up to close the entry and exit point. there was no way off unless you made a jump.

in less than a moment after the bang sounded from the bridge closing entirely, your body was jerked into niki’s — her hand coming to steady you, much like she did with wilbur as he swayed slightly.

every second you inched closer and closer to the fold, the unwelcoming and crip air nipped at your nose, ears, and cheeks — the sound of screeching and echoing howls the monstrosities that lived within let out, made your knee’s feel as if they would give out any minute.

being on the outside had been scary enough — but going in, head first was unimaginably more horrific. no nightmare or intrusive thought could have prepared you for what you were about to enter.

what you were about to experience.

the grisha and first army soldiers alike that stood near the front of the skiff disappeared into the black smoke when the skiff had finally breached the darkness, and second by second, that darkness had grown closer to you.

with her hands on your shoulder blades, and your wrist held tightly by wilbur — you took a deep breath.

the light disappeared and the air grew thick — breathing needing more forces, and your head beginning to pound due to the pressure drop.

you were in the fold, and there was no turning back.

—

crowds of soldiers and grisha gathered on the dock, watching as the skiff was engulfed by the black smoke — whispers of worry, reassurance, and mourning echoed about. they would wait for the news of the skiff not returning, or they would wait for a skiff full of allies and friends to return — goods in hand and smiles on their faces.

but he didn’t pay mind to any of them.

he stood tall against the harsh wind — the black cloak and kefta flowing with it, and hair blowing wildly. his eyes never leaving where the skiff had entered.

“general, the first army’s headman would like to speak with you before you leave for the little palace.”

“of course, tell him to meet me in my tent,” the grisha hummed in response and turned to relay the message to the leader of the first army. “oh and sapnap?”

“yes general?”

“tell george to keep his eye on the fold — I have a good feeling about this trip.”

if only he knew what would unfold inside of the darkness only miles ahead of him.

— authors note ; I didn’t want to put this at the start as to not spoil the meeting of a character, but I wanted to clarify that niki and wilbur are not love interests. strictly platonic. the dynamic will remain there however!

— taglist ; open

@dreamslittlebitch //

[inkrabbit]

Hi! So I was wondering if you could do a Sean Macguire x male!reader where they’re arguing because Sean unnecessarily risked his life and Sean tries to get out of the argument by saying ‘you’re cute when you’re angry’ and instead of reader getting all flustered and blushy, he gets even more pissed off and just says ‘oh fuck off’ then goes off to his tent. And a little while later Sean finds him and apologizes then promises to be careful and it just ends in fluff and sleepy cuddles before they fall asleep together.

Sorry this took so long! It's not the best, but I did what I could for the plot. Hopefully you enjoy <3

I'll work on the next request soon

Word count: 1,957

Sean had once heard that, in life or death situations, time would slow down. He laughed at those stories, wondering how that could be possible. Time and time again, life continued to speed by him and the gang with no intentions of ever slowing down.

That was until he had jumped in front of you, green eyes blown wide and his mouth hanging open, a strangled gasp escaping his throat. In that moment, time truly did seem to stop as he fell back. The yelling and cheering of the final O'Driscoll fell away, along with the gunfire as he slowly brought his hand up to cover his side. It hurt, and his blood stuck to his hand, warm and sticky as he gripped his jacket and skin in an attempt to stop the bleeding and quell the rising pain.

The sound of your panicked voice was the only thing that came through the white noise and ringing in his ears, still reeling from the damage. He barely registers that, in his daze, you've managed to get a clean shot off on the man who had originally wounded him. Now laying in only your presence, he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding in, shaky and filled with discomfort. Each breath he took, no matter how small, seemed to intensify the pain in his side.

“Are you okay?” Oh, but no matter how much pain he was in, that familiar goofy smile made its way to his lips as he stares up at you.

“Aye, I am now, love,” he chuckles softly, but his hand doesn't move from its spot. With arms still shaking from the adrenaline, you crouch down to help lift him up, just into a seated position. “Ah, watch it, lad! Still not feelin' meself, as ya can see!”

“I don't wanna hear it!” It wasn't often you shot back at him like this. Sure, he was used to the snooty remarks, and maybe the comments that would act as a slap on the wrist, but the roar in your voice made him feel like a child being scolded. He expected this from Miss Grimshaw, or Hosea; maybe even Dutch on a bad day, but to hear it from his boyfriend? Well, this was certainly new.

“I had it all under control!” you continue as you hook his arm over your shoulders and lift him up, ignoring the whining that reverberated in his throat. “All you had to do was stay behind cover, and you couldn't even do that!”

“Where's the fun in hidin'?” He tries to give you a cheeky smile as you two walk over to Ennis, and he notes how you're almost reluctant to help him up and onto his saddle. “'Sides, I was just tryin' to protect ya, love.”

“Oh, shut it,” Watching you mount your own horse, the two of you trot back to camp. Silence falls and Sean notices that you won't even spare him a glance. Still, he can tell by the way your brows are furrowed that now's not the time to make small talk. One hand grips the reins as his other covers the hole in his side. Maybe he would try saying something when both of you returned to camp?

To no one's surprise, Miss Grimshaw is the first one to start hollering across camp when she sees Sean struggling to get down from Ennis and the blood that soaked his clothes. She pushes right past you, demanding the Irishman to explain himself as she leads him over to the wagon. He can barely get any words out before the older woman starts talking over him. Being practically thrown onto the small stool, Sean peers around Miss Grimshaw as he watches you hand over the loot from your expedition.

Once more, a seed of guilt is planted in the pit of his stomach, but he doesn't have long to dwell on it before Miss Grimshaw is instructing he removes his clothes so she can take a better look at his wound. He moves slow, wincing as he feels the material try to cling to his body, and the pinch and burning pain as he moves.

“Just what were you thinkin'?” she demands as she picks up a cloth and some antiseptic. To the best of his ability, Sean shrugs.

“I just wanted to protect 'im,” he responds softly, sucking air in through his teeth when he feels the sting of the cloth against his side.

“You know Y/N is more than capable of handling himself,” He nods, almost sheepishly, as he avoids her stern stare.

“I know, but...” He watches you from across the way, standing before Dutch and Hosea as you rant, no doubt about his little act. You're stomping your foot and flailing your hands, your face red and your brows furrowed. He had never seen you this mad before. “Ya don't know what it's like watchin' people shoot at someone ya love.”

“Oh, 'course I do,” He finally turns to stare at Miss Grimshaw, green eyes waiting for her to continue. “You think Dutch and I were always safe? Things escalated more times than I can count. He couldn't take his way out of everything, even if he thinks he can.”

He opens his mouth to say something, maybe ask more questions, but his mind goes blank when you finally walk over with your arms crossed over your chest. The scowl is still cemented on your face, but that doesn't stop him from putting on that old, goofy smile and sending it your way.

“Ya look cute when you're angry, Y/N!” he teases, resting his elbow on his knee so he can bend over just slightly. He had high hopes you would give him something; a smirk, playful huff, or even a roll of the eye. But the way your jaw clenched only made his heart drop. Before he knows it, your hand is lashing out and smacking his cheek, jerking his head to the side. There's a ringing in his ear, and he barely catches the mild scolding Miss Grimshaw starts to deliver to you.

“I wouldn't be so angry if you weren't such an idiot!” Your tone is clearly angry, but he can hear that slight wavering in your voice; the slightest crack that he would've missed had he not been paying attention. His mouth drops open, ready to fire back in a desperate attempt to calm you down, but you've already turned your heels and stormed away towards your tent. He's left sitting there, a deep frown on his face.

“Oh, now look at what you've done,” Miss Grimshaw sighs, her eyes trailing you. “You just can't keep your mouth shut, can you?”

“I gotta go after 'im,” He plants his hand on the stool, slowly trying to lift himself up, but the old woman is faster. She grabs his shoulder and forces him back down, a wince coming from the man.

“Oh, no you don't!” Her face is hard, brows furrowed as she glares down at him. “Now, I think you've done quite enough for one day. You just let poor Y/N simmer down before you go botherin' him.”

“But I just-”

“But nothin'! You're stayin' right here!”

Maybe he would've argued more if his side wasn't on fire, or if the woman hadn't had such a brutal grip on the base of his neck to hold him still. His eyes followed your direction, and he stared at the closed flaps of your tent. He hadn't meant to make you mad.

The rest of his medical treatment consisted of him barely listening to Miss Grimshaw's rant. Something about him being more careful the next time he's out, and how he has to be more aware of his surroundings and not make such stupid decisions. He absentmindedly just nods his head, eyes still trained on your tent. He went over the conversation you two would eventually be having repeatedly in his mind. Should he just apologize? Should he try to explain himself? Should he just try and forget it all happened and keep going on as if everything was normal? He supposed he would figure it out when he saw you.

By the time the sun slipped behind the horizon, everyone had heard about Sean's little event and nice slap he had received. Of course some of the members had poked and prodded for more information, and other teased him about what had happened. He never told them, of course. Just rolled his eyes and brushed them off. But the whiskey he was offered as a sort of “get well soon” gift was more than welcome. It helped calm his nerves for what was to come.

When the last drop of whiskey hit his tongue, he tossed the bottle to the side and bid everyone at the campfire a farewell. Some had wished him luck, expecting him to be thrown out of your tent within seconds of entering just by saying something stupid. And truth be told, that thought had entertained him for a while. He was worried he would say the wrong thing and receive another slap, only to have you throw him out seconds later.

Standing outside of your tent, he gnaws at the bottom of his lip. It was now or never, he supposed. While the alcohol still coursed through his veins and gave him that little bit of courage, he reaches out and pulls the flaps apart. You're laying down on your cot with your back towards the entrance, paying him no mind.

“Y/N? Can we talk?” he starts softly, only to be met with silence. With a soft sigh, he steps into the tent and lets the flaps close behind him. His strides over are slow, worried you'll lash out at any second. “Look, I just wanted to tell ya I'm sorry. I-”

“Like sorry makes it any better,” He finally reaches the cot, taking a seat on the edge to reach out and rest his hand on your shoulder. “You could've died, Sean!”

“Well, I'm fully aware of that...” He holds his breath, worried he'll be met with more aggression. When you don't respond, however, he decides to continue. “I just... I dunno. I guess seein' ya in trouble like that... it made me panic. I can't lose ya, Y/N.”

“So your first thought was to jump in front of a bullet?”

“My first thought was to protect you. Didn't matter what happened after.”

You slowly shift on the cot, sitting up and finally facing him. He can finally see your bloodshot eyes. Reaching out, he gently brushes his knuckles against your cheek.

“I just don't wanna lose you,” you sigh. A small creeps across his freckled face as he leans in to press his lips against yours.

“I'll try to be more careful.”

“You promise?”

“Well, best I can, love.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, this one lingering longer than the last.

“You ever do something stupid like that again, I'll kill you myself,” you murmur against his lips. He chuckles softly.

“I'd expect ya to, lad,” You help him slowly lay down on the cot next to you, letting his head rest against your chest as you ran your fingers through dirty red locks. He's softly complaining about the ache in his side, and you just remind him it's what he deserves after making such a stupid decision. Still, he gives you a smile as he promises to not pull another stunt like that again.

[fandom-collective-writers]

Fervor (Kenshin Uesugi x MC)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Kenshin Uesugi x MC

Prompt: Sweaty

Warning: Smut!

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 3,904

Requested by: anonymous

Written by: @lordsisterxotome​

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Sengoku or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

       Uesugi Kenshin was a god - really and truly. The air seemed to part for him as he swung his sword with inhuman ease, the movement so fluid, so graceful, so deadly it had her breath catching in her throat as she stared, rooted to the spot in awe. A primal part of her keened for him, attracted to the sheer power he wielded, and she swallowed and shook her head, banishing her mind of embarrassing thoughts of good genetic material.

       MC had originally come looking for Kenshin to tell him to take a break, but had quickly become distracted by how beautiful her lover was, completely in his element with Himezuru Ichimonji in hand. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of her neck, making her shiver, and she knew it wasn’t just from the heat. It didn’t help that he was topless, the sleeves of his kimono pulled down to drape against his hakama. Every swing of his sword brought new coils of muscle into focus, the parts of his body moving in perfect sync through years of training and battle. 

       Her eyes followed a drop of sweat as it ran down his back, following the chiseled lines of his trapezius and spine. His skin wasn’t flawless - the pale expanses of his back and chest were littered with pearly scar tissue, some nearly faded while others shimmered in the sunlight - and her heart ached a little at the thought of what he had put himself through to earn so many. She knew, however, that he wore the marks like regalia, symbols of his prowess and battlefield dominance as the God of War.

       MC startled a little as mismatched eyes finally settled on her, pinning her in place with their differing colors and identical heat. Kenshin’s muscles rippled as he performed another slice that cut a leaf fluttering in the breeze in half, his eyes sending a silent signal as he did, and the intention behind his movements became unmistakable. He was trying to impress her, woo her, to make her melt so all she could think of was him, him, him...not that he really needed to anyway.

       Satisfied at having her undivided attention, he performed another few swings, the air separating with a series of whooshes beneath his blade. A final turn brought him to face her and she swallowed at the image staring her down. Sweat dripped down his arm as he lowered his sword, the heaving of his chest as he panted bringing her attention to his chiseled abs and pecs, and his eyes. Kenshin’s eyes were so heated they rivaled the summer heat, dark with sinful intent as he took one step closer then another, prowling towards her.

       Each breath became more of a struggle as he approached, never breaking eye contact once. It was like her body was forgetting how to function under his intensity. She didn’t realize she’d stopped breathing completely until a tightness in her chest forced her to inhale slowly, as if afraid to alert him to her presence. Kenshin stopped a few feet away, looking up at her from his place amongst the carefully manicured flowers and bushes. The raised floor of the hallway gave her a good foot of height on him, but she still felt like the prey here, her handsome predator staring at her like he would pounce at any moment. She had to admit, she would be lying if she said it didn’t excite her. He knew exactly what kind of effect he was having on her right now and he was enjoying it if the smirk she noticed pulling at the corner of his lips was anything to go by.

       Yes, he was very satisfied with himself.

       Swallowing, she summoned what little stability she had left to speak coherently. “I-I was wondering what you were doing out here.” 

       He hummed, an enticing purr that she could feel in her bones. MC doubted she would ever fully comprehend the depths of Kenshin’s effect on her, just as she would never know how she enraptured him in return. 

       “Practicing. Why? Is there something else you need me for?”

       Her already warm face grew hotter at the implication in his tone, and she had to avert her gaze from the suggestive raise of his pale brow. Normally, she would play along with his game, turning to putty in his lovingly molding hands as she let him worship her with whispered promises against flushed, sensitive skin, but today felt different. Today she wanted to play with him, have him begging for her as she loved him slowly. She wanted him to get a taste of how desperate he made her.

       “Not really,” she answered, giving him the most nonchalant look she could muster. “I think Sasuke was looking for you. Something about installing more crawl spaces in the ceiling. I’m going to get back to work now.” With that she turned on her heel and strode back down the hallway, not looking back to see his expression. 

       His little performance had charmed her, that was for certain, but that didn’t mean she had to give in to him every time. Kenshin could come get what he wanted from her outright...is what she thought at least. In reality, MC hadn’t taken more than a dozen paces before she was swept off her feet and pinned against the wall, a hot mouth dominating hers as an even hotter body pressed flush against her own. 

       Kenshin’s tongue quickly found its way between lips parted in surprise, tangling with her own in a passionate dance of frustration and unrestrained lust. He swallowed her soft moan, answering with his own deeper croon. “Lies,” he hissed when the need for air became too prominent. “You need me. I can feel it.”

       “Do I?” she shot back innocently, trying and failing to restrain the tiny smirk that pulled at the corner of her lips. “I think I’m okay right now.”

       A snarl tore from him as he hefted her over his shoulder, thundering down the hall as he headed towards their shared room. Briefly, she wondered if she’d just bitten off more than she could chew, but a second later she was landing on a futon with a god of a man kissing the living daylights out of her.  

       “Admit that you want me,” he purred, leaving a burning trail in his wake as he trailed kisses down her jaw to her neck. MC mewled when his mouth attached to her skin, biting and sucking in what was sure to be quite the hickey later on. His hands went to her obi, pulling at it until it loosened around her waist enough that he could pull her kimono open, and his mouth left several more marks on her neck, in places that she wouldn’t be able to cover easily, before traveling downwards to lap at her collarbones. 

       Still, despite how good it felt and how much she wanted to moan and cry for him, her lips remained firmly shut, much to her lover’s displeasure. Clicking his tongue, Kenshin pulled away from her to undo the last ties holding his hakama around his hips and she averted her eyes as the clothing rustled to the floor, biting her lip. 

       “Look at me,” he husked, his body settling on top of hers and his hands pinning her above her head as she writhed beneath him. “Look at how much you affect me.”

       The heat of his naked body on top of hers only stoked the fire in the pit of her stomach and she almost gave in and spoke the words she knew he wanted to hear. Instead, she bit her lip and dug her fingernails into her palm, trying to ground herself as his erection rutted against her clothed core, his hips settling between her legs. 

       She cried out when his hand grabbed a breast, rolling the soft flesh in his palm as his mouth attached to the nipple of the other. Her hands strained against his strong hold, desperate to tangle her fingers in his pale hair as he bit and sucked, rolling her nipple between his fingers. Kenshin’s moans against the sensitive flesh only made it worse, his eyelashes tickling her skin as he closed his eyes in rapture at her taste. 

       Releasing her wrists, he wrapped an arm around her waist, his teeth and tongue continuing to lavish her breasts while his other hand ghosted down her body. Fingers trailed up her calf, pushing her kimono apart, before tickling across the supple flesh of her inner thigh. MC shuddered when his hand cupped her through her undergarments, rubbing her through the cloth barrier. 

       “So wet for me already,” he chuckled, kissing the spot above her racing heart as his skillful fingers pulled the cloth away and exposed her to the heated air. “I know your body better than my own, my love.” Yet Kenshin refused to touch what was his, leaving her to whine helplessly as his hand stroked her thigh. She tried tilting her hips in a way that would bring his fingers into contact with where she needed them most, but they danced away as he chuckled at her desperation. 

       “I’ll give you what you want,” he husked, “but first you have to answer my question. Why deny me, love?”

       “I-ahh!” Her answer cut off on a cry as a finger brushed teasingly against her clit, her head thrown back as her body shuddered.

       “Go on,” he purred against her throat, sucking at her pulse point. 

       “You have me wrapped around your finger,” MC managed, biting her lip. He made a curious noise and she continued, “I’m so in love with you, it practically only takes a smile from you to bring me to my knees. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who’s this desperate.”

       Kenshin was silent for a heartbeat, and she wondered if he’d understood, if he was angry, until teeth dug into the juncture of her neck and shoulder and he pinched her clit hard. Her back arched and she cried out as his tongue laved against the shell of her ear, his breath fanning against the sensitive area as he spoke. 

       “That’s where you’re wrong. You see…” A long finger slipped smoothly inside of her, parting her velvet walls as it curled in a come hither motion. Gasping at the intrusion, she ground her hips against his hand as he thrust the finger in and out of her. She could cry it felt so good, partially relieving the ache that had begun to build from the moment she’d seen him in the courtyard.

       When he pulled away from her neck to gaze down at her, her eyes widened at the sheer yearning in his expression. His pale cheeks were colored a beautiful red, lips parted around husky pants, and eyes hazed by lust and need. “I’m always desperate for you,” he moaned, hips rutting against her leg in time with his finger. The bare cock humping against her thigh only served to make her wetter and she whimpered as a second finger joined the first within her. “So many times, when I caught another man looking at you, I just wanted to bend you over in front of everyone and show them who you belong to.”

       The feral possessiveness in his voice made her core squeeze around his fingers and he groaned in her ear, the deep sound sending shivers down her spine. Kenshin’s gaze left her face to peer at where his fingers still plunged inside of her relentlessly and she briefly wondered what he was thinking as an amused smile curled at the corners of his lips.

       “But…” Flipping their positions, he settled her on top of him, and MC blinked down at him as he smirked expectantly and said, “I’ll let you do as you wish. Show me I’m yours.”

       It took her a second to realize the extent of his words, but once she did a flustered blush broke across her cheeks and down her neck. It wasn’t as if they had never been in this position before, but it had never lasted long, Kenshin’s insatiable hunger quickly taking control. She wasn’t about to let that happen so easily this time though. No, if he wanted her to show him he belonged to her then that’s exactly what she would do.

       Feeling his erection prod her dripping core, she rolled her hips down against him and pushed him back so he was lying flat on the futon. Kenshin moaned, the deep sound music to her ears, and his hands moved to her hips, grinding her harder even as his hips bucked up into her. She could feel him trying to aim himself inside of her but evaded each thrust, his cock slipping through her heat over and over.

       MC could tell he was starting to become exasperated by it, brow pinching and breath coming in short pants as he tried and failed to impale her on his cock with each upward thrust. “Let me in,” he demanded, teeth gritting. A particularly intimate roll of her hips had his head falling back beautifully and she took advantage of the pale, exposed column of his throat, leaning forward so she lay with her breasts pressed against his chest as her fingers flicked his nipples. 

       “How badly do you want me?” she murmured against his ear, leaving her own marks on his neck as she kissed and nipped. 

       “So badly that if you don’t sit on my cock right now I can’t be held accountable for my actions,” he growled back.

       “Hmm? I thought you said I could do what I want?” Another roll of her hips made him hiss, the head of his cock catching on her entrance before slipping away again. Kenshin’s grip on her hips tightened, and she knew he could easily hold her still enough to thrust into her, but he didn’t.

       “You can,” he grunted, “but I’m so hard it hurts.” The angle of his grinds changed and she gasped at the sudden stimulation against her clit, arching her chest against his as he looked up at her through half-lidded eyes. “Please, I need you. Let me be inside of you.”

       His begging made something release inside of her and MC suddenly felt so empty, like she would implode if she didn’t have him that instant. Reaching between them, she wrapped her fingers around his cock, feeling the velvety firmness throb under her palm, and coaxed it into position against her entrance. Both of them moaned in relief as her hips sunk down on him, her core welcoming the intrusion as it sucked him deeper into the comfort of her warmth. 

       “That’s it,” he grunted as she took him in deeper. “Just like that. Such a good girl. You feel so good.”

       After making love with Kenshin for so long she needed little time to adjust to his impressive length and began to roll her hips, her pace increasing with a little coaxing and directing from him. He leaned up to capture her lips in a messy kiss as she bounced on top of him, moaning as a hand dove into the hair at the back of her head, effectively holding her in place as he devoured her mouth.

       A purposeful squeeze of her inner muscles received a violent buck from him in return, nails digging into her skin as he grunted, “Do that again and you'll regret it.”

       She giggled softly, pressing her lips to his neck as she continued to work him in and out of her tight heat, his praises encouraging her to move against him harder, faster. She squeaked when his hands grabbed her ass hard, forcing himself deeper into her as a muscle jumped in his neck.��

       “So close, ahh...Keep going...keep going, just like that. Yes, yes, yes,” his voice deepened with pleasure and she watched his beautiful eyes close in bliss, lips parted and head tilted back. So enraptured by how angelic he looked in the throws of passion, MC didn’t notice the hand that slipped between them until it was too late, an unexpected push to her clit drawing a scream from her throat as her core clenched hard around him, her sudden climax knocking the breath out of her. 

       She heard him grunt something about how tight she was before a pleasured moan vibrated through his chest and his release painted her walls white, warmth shooting deep inside of her and making her shiver against him.

       He held her still as he continued to thrust up into her shallowly, working his seed deeper into her, and the aftershocks made her whimper. All she wanted to do was curl up against him and bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking, but it seemed Kenshin had other ideas, a hungry glint in his eyes as he peered down at her, limp against his chest.

       “We’re not finished yet,” he panted.

       MC had just enough time to gasp before she was suddenly flipped over onto the futon, a god humping his still-hard cock between her legs and his mouth sucking at her breast. She cried out from the sudden overstimulation, the engorged head of his cock hitting her swollen clit as his length slipped through her soaked heat, drenching himself in their combined releases as it dripped from her.

       “Please, Kenshin,” she cried, arms wrapping around his back to pull him closer as her legs instinctively moved to wrap around his hips. Despite having just climaxed, she wanted more, needed more of him, never having enough of this man who had devoted himself to her so wholeheartedly.

       “What is it?” he murmured in her ear, “Say it and I’ll give you everything you want and more.”

       “Fuck me, please!” she cried, eyes closed tight against the tears of pleasure that blurred her vision. “I’m all yours! I need you! Only you!” She would never know how much he adored hearing those words, how they made every part of his body and soul sing with delight and pride, how they made him want to prove it to her over and over and over again until everyone knew that she was his and he was hers and anyone that challenged that would meet his wrath.

       Grabbing her legs and throwing them over his shoulders, he speared into her, making her scream as her sensitive core spasmed around him. Stars danced across her vision as Kenshin immediately set an inhumane pace and all she could do was hang on for the ride. Through her half-lidded gaze, she could see how beautiful he looked like this, porcelain cheeks flushed with need and blue and green eyes hazed with desire as he panted like a wild beast, claiming her animalistically.

       A calloused hand grabbed one of her bouncing breasts roughly and she mewled as he pinched her nipple, twisting and pulling as he continued to rut into her. “Scream for me more,” he ordered, voice low and dangerous. “Tell me who you belong to again, loud enough that the whole castle can hear you.”

       Maybe MC would be embarrassed by it later but all she cared about right now was fulfilling that order, of letting him know how good he was making her feel. “Kenshin!” she screamed, begging for more. “Please- ahh! -keep going! Don’t...Don’t stop! It feels-ngh! S-So good!”

       “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

       She sobbed when he suddenly pulled out without warning, the absence leaving her feeling unbearably empty. Flipping her over onto all fours, Kenshin grabbed her hips and sheathed himself inside of her dripping core once more. A cry broke from her lips at the depth he reached with the new position, his fingers digging into her skin as her tight walls squeezed him. Hot lips graced her shoulders as he leaned over her, his chest meeting her back as he moaned wantonly in her ear. “You’re so tight, my love. Your body wants me so badly.” A shudder wracked her form as he pulled back for a hard thrust, resuming his previous pace.

       It was all too much for her. With each thrust, she felt his cock kiss her cervix, sending shockwaves through her overstimulated body. The pain it brought melded with the pleasure, her hands fisting in the futon and her face pressed into the sheets as she cried out for him until her throat was raw and all she could think of was her lover’s name.

       As for Kenshin, each thrust felt like heaven, his balls slapping against her ass as he firmly reestablished his claim over her. It was getting increasingly harder to pull out, her walls clamping down on him and threatening to send him over the edge and milk him for all he was worth at any moment. His hands shifted from their grip on her waist, one grabbing her breast while the other snaked between her legs, circling her clit teasingly. “Do you want to come?” he panted in her ear, jaw clenching on a particularly tight thrust.

       “Yes! Yes, please, Kenshin!”

       He chuckled breathlessly, closing his eyes and burying his face against her shoulder. “Then come.”

       His fingers pressed down on her clit hard as his other hand pinched her nipple and the stimulation sending her into her second climax of the evening. His name tore from her on a scream as he growled his release into her skin, teeth lodging in her shoulder as her walls squeezed around him like a vice. 

       Kenshin’s hips continued to move throughout his orgasm, drawing out both their pleasure as he released inside of her again and found absolute bliss in her body. Her whole body felt wrapped in his intense heat, beads of sweat rolling down her skin as her lover held her weak body against his in an iron grip.

       His body slumped on top of hers as they slowly calmed down from their high, his warmth seeping around where he was still buried inside of her. Kissing her shoulder, Kenshin rolled her onto her side, sweaty body curling around hers. Even though it was so hot, the heat of his body didn’t bother her in the slightest, making her feel loved and protected as he held her close. 

       “Have I convinced you of how desperate I am for you?” he husked, brushing strands of hair away from her forehead as he littered her face with soft kisses.

       “Yeah,” she panted, reaching back to cup his face in her palm. Turning her head to look back at him, MC placed a tender kiss against his cheek. “I love you, Kenshin.”

       He smiled dazzlingly as he nuzzled his face into her hair, replying, “I love you more.”

       Closing her eyes, she smiled, enjoying his ministrations as his fingers started kneading her pleasantly tired body. “Mmm, I don’t know. I really love you a lot. It’s kind of crazy how much.”

       “Want to bet?” he offered, his hands massaging her bruised hips.

       “Actually, I think I need a bath.” A slight squeeze of her inner muscles around his limp cock had him gasping as you looked back at him, smirking. “Care to join me?”

       He licked his lips, heat and hunger already alight in his blue and green eyes. “It would be my pleasure.”