#that it’s a very sweet movie. unexpectedly

[gromky]

my bileriders review doesn’t convey how beautiful it was or how deeply it affected me but he did very much want to ride that man into the sunset

[lalal-99]

Kitty’s New Best Friend {l.f.}

113 "Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room." 133 "You're being shy now? Really?" 141 "How many times have you jerked off to me?"

Felix x afab!reader | trope: friends to lovers, roommates | wordcount: 2.4k

Synopsis: When your roommate comes home unexpectedly, he finds you in a compromising position on the living room couch, moaning his name. Fortunetly, he's had a hunch about your feelings for a while, and he's willing to help you out.

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Smut Tags: Smut | Explicit Sexual Content | Porn with some Plot | Fluff and Smut | Mutual Pining | Semi-Public Masturbation | Oral Sex (reader rec.) | Teasing

Note: I wrote three different version of this over the past two years. This one was the best one, by a mile. Hope you enjoy. Please leave comments, if you want to encourage more content.

Again, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due :)

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness

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He didn’t use to appear in your dirty dreams.

Only months ago, you didn’t need to put a face on the main character of your fantasies—the imagination itself enough to get you going.

That had certainly changed.

It could have been Felix sauntering your shared apartment without a shirt one too many times. It could have been the shoulder to cry on he had lent you after your ex. Hell, it could have even been as trivial as a kind smile for no apparent reason.

Your brain simply shut off and your kitty assumed control. Universally deciding that your roommate was a fitting image to get turned on to.

Now, his face made an appearance in every single one of your daydreams.

When Felix emerged from his room in nothing but a pair of loose hanging sweatpants, your mind went right back to it. It was ridiculous. You didn’t even listen to where he went off to, your fingers already running over his creamy skin in your mind. You felt like a teenager, arousal taking over you the second Felix left the apartment.

None of your other roommates were home which was fortunate. Sure, you could have gone to your bedroom to be safe. But how could you, when the heat reached you right there in the living room. Like it had happened in the shower a few days ago after Felix had sneaked in to get his lotion. You had told him you didn’t mind when in reality, you did. Just not in the way he might have thought.

That day and in your following fantasy, he hadn’t left, but instead joined you under the hot water.

Humming Felix’s name at the sound of your fingers running through your folds, you internally scolded yourself for thinking this way about him. A boy who was so innocently oblivious, he probably had no idea you even jerked off in the first place. Someone so sweet, he brought you candy when you were on your period, brewed you tea after a long day, or gave you massages when... Well, whenever you wanted one.

You were completely immersed in the scenario you had set up in your head, knot in your stomach tightening. So much so your brain took a second too long to recognise the familiar sound of his keys.

Things went very fast from there.

The door opened and Felix walked in to the sight of you. Rushing your hand out of your shorts, your neckline was red from the heat, your hair messier than when he had left. Mere minutes earlier.

“Felix? What the hell are you doing here?” you questioned, shock written on your features. “I thought you went out.”

“I—“ He scanned the situation and before you could stop him, he figured it out. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I went to get some snacks for the movie.”

Oh yes! The memory of your short conversation suddenly came back to you.

Felix had come out of his room, shirtless, recognising the movie playing on the TV in front of you. He had asked you to pause it, so you could watch it together once he came back from the store. Getting you snacks and a bottle of your favourite white, like the perfect roomie he was.

“Were you…” A smirk appeared on Felix’s face as his view wandered down your body to your pants. “Either I’m insane, or you were just masturbating in our living room.” Noticing your eyes shifting and your cheeks reddening in the light of the TV, he yelped. “Oh my God, you were masturbating, weren’t you?”

You struggled finding another excuse that could explain your hands down your pants. Not that it mattered, anyway. Nothing you said, no explanation you could have given, would get your roommate to believe he hadn’t just walked in on you.

Felix placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and strode over to the couch, sliding on next to you. The shit-eating grin on his face only heightened your embarrassment. Not so innocent after all, now that he held something over your head.

“Stop being so smug. It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scratched an invisible itch on your neck.

“But I don’t do it out here where everyone can walk in. Do you have no shame?” Felix was teasing you now, the previously cutesy behaviour shifting. You couldn’t quite pinpoint his demeanour, but it almost seemed seductive. Like, he was definitely flirting, and not in his usual, sweet way. If his next words were anything to go by, it felt even more so. “Or did you want me to walk in on you?”

You almost choked on your saliva. “What? No! Of course not.”

The redness on your face darkened further.

Why would he ever suggest that you had masturbated out in the living room on purpose? Unless… Maybe, subconsciously, you had done just that. Perhaps you wanted to make use of the possibility, him walking in on you. So he could finally help you scratch the itch himself. Not his imaginary self, but the real one, in all his glory. Could your brain have betrayed you like that, without you noticing?

You didn’t quite know what to think.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone about this.” Somehow, that relieved you. Not like you had expected Felix to go around, gloating about it. It still relaxed you to hear it from the man himself. “I only have one question, then we can stop talking about it. Forever.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. So he was blackmailing you now, too? Felix, out of all people. Nice Felix, who never hurt a fly. Cute Felix, whose love language were hugs and cuddles. Smug Felix, who somehow had the upper hand right now.

Your kitty purred at his intrigue, surprising even yourself.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?”

You must have had a mini heart attack at that very second. Unfortunately, you didn’t land in heaven. If anything, this was hell.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Felix replied, bottom lip wandering between his teeth. “And I heard you, moaning my name before. So, how often do you think about me?”

“I don’t— I didn’t— I mean— What?” You were sweating now, unable to form simple sentences. And that was before his hand landed on your naked thigh, squeezing. That’s when you lost the ability to breathe, stomach tensing.

“You’re being shy now? Really?” As his fingers drew figure eights onto your skin, they wandered further up your leg until he reached the hem of your shorts. He played with the band, keeping his irises on you, and your kitty hissed. His proximity was a dangerous game. “What if I told you, I’ve been thinking about it, too?”

What. The. Fuck?

He leaned in, lips close enough to feel his breath on you, and you got dizzy. You didn’t remember drinking any alcohol, but you damn well felt like it. As though you had gotten intoxicated, high, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath.

“Been thinking about you so much. Taking you in your room. In the shower. On this very couch. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His fingers entered your pants, playing with the hem of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his hand cupped you, smirk so close to your face you could hear it. Felix clicked his tongue when he felt your wetness. “I knew it. Not so shy now, are we?”

And you weren’t. Shy, that was. Overwhelmed, sure. Embarrassed, yes. But not shy. Not when you detected the tent in his own sweatpants. Felix wanted this, just like you. Felix was your roommate, best friend and now, potential lover. If anything, you felt most comfortable around him.

The feeling heightened when he gave you a gentle push, urging you to lay back. Felix’s face remained so close to yours, eyes glued to each other as he situated himself above you. His fingers started teasing as he leaned down, faintly pressing his lips to your pulse point. Your eyes stood wide open, searching the ceiling for possible answers to the one question you had.

How the fuck had this happened?

Felix kissed down your body, through the valley of your chest and over your tank top. Right down to your shorts. He must have been able to smell you, but you didn’t care. It was Felix, after all, the boy straight out of your dreams.

“Y/N,” his soft voice called you to catch your attention. When you met his gaze, the world stopped for a moment. The lust had momentarily vanished from his irises and what overtook was care and love. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Don’t.” Your answer couldn’t have come faster, and you meant it. Under no circumstances did you want him to stop. Ever.

With that, the primate inside him gained back control, ridding you of your pants and underwear. All the while, Felix’s stare remained on your face, smiling between kisses he planted on your naked stomach. As though he wanted to capture all your focus and wouldn’t let you divert your eyes for anything.

A last smile sent your way and he dove in.

Your mouth stood agape as you watched him, connect his mouth to your clit, lightly sucking. You spread your legs so he could slot between them, and slot, he did. Key fitting in a lock, he kept your knees apart with his body, the whole couch becoming your playground.

Felix nibbled on your clit like it was sweet candy, gazes locked as his tongue came into play. Prodding, exploring. He looked sinful, like a devilish angle as his blonde locks tickled your bare thighs. A fucking dream-come-true, in the most literal sense.

Licking down your folds, he tasted you, humming in delight. His own personal five course meal.

Early on, you had been taught to never eat with your hands. That it was rude and crude, and ill-mannered. When Felix did it, it was nothing if not delicious. To watch, to hear, his fingers spreading you and entering in soft, gentle strokes.

Soon enough, he was three fingers in, knuckles-deep, petting the sensitive spot so deep you never reached it yourself. And there he was, doing it with so much ease, over and over. Kitty’s new best friend.

For a moment, you lost control, throwing your head back with a loud moan. When Felix squeezed your thigh, gently but determined, you brought your head back.

“Eyes on me, Kitten.”

A whimper at the nickname made him smirk as he scissored you open. His tongue prodded against your opening in sync, delightful as your stomach tensed.

“Oh, fuck—” You brought your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Guiding him, at least as much as he let you. “Please.”

Cocking his head, Felix teased you, playfully confused by your words.

“Please, I need you. Inside. Please.”

With one last calm suck on your nub, he snaked his way up your body. Fingers remained inside you for now, distracting you.

“But I already am. You have to be more specific, Kitten.”

You clenched at the words, and he visibly noticed.

“Your cock. I need you inside me. Please, Felix.” If those words hadn’t driven him crazy already, persuading him, your next ones sure did. “Kitten needs your cock.”

He groaned, fingers coming up to touch your lips. You opened them, licking over his moist rings and he lost himself in the sight. “Such crude words for such a cute Kitten.”

Smearing the last of your essence over your mouth, he began licking it off, taking his sweet time. And then finally, after he had already done much more intimate, he kissed you. Careful and collected turned to desperate and chaotic as tongues melted into one.

Kissing Felix was natural, like you had done it so many times before. And you would have continued doing it, if it hadn’t been for the more pressing issues.

When you bucked up into him, rubbing your naked crotch against his clothed one, he smirked into the kiss. “Eager Kitten.”

“Desperate,” you corrected, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.

Felix drew away to rid himself of his shirt, kneeling on top of you. It must have been the hottest thing you had ever been lucky enough to witness. As he untied the knot in his sweats, your sight remained on his toned torso. Sculptured abs followed a set of muscular pecs and his prominent collar bones. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, wanted to lick it and bite it, too. That was if he let you.

But not right now. Not when all you wanted was for him to devour you like his favourite desert.

Like the absolute menace he was, Felix tugged the hem of his sweats down, revealing the absence of underwear. And to think he walked around the apartment like that, unsucked. It was a real shame.

He stroked himself a couple of times, the other hand running through his messy locks. An undeniable God in human form.

You might have even been drooling, but before you could check, he hovered over you again. “Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, curling upwards to connect your lips again.

With your legs still around his hips, it was easy for Felix to position himself. Your walls were clenching already, craving penetration. Some relief. Anything. It didn’t actually matter, as long as it was Felix doing it.

“You know,” he mumbled between kisses, tugging at your lip. It was in that moment, as he was so close, that you noticed the desire in his eyes. But it wasn’t just desire, but so much more. Adoration. Longing. Attraction. Love. “If you had told me about your secret from the start, we could have done this months ago.”

How he had come to know about your infatuation? You had no head to figure it out right that moment.

“However, we do have a lot to make up for. Better get to it, right?”

When Felix slid into you, your eyes rolled back into your head as your breath got caught in your lungs. Finally, after months of distanced yearning, he scratched the same itch that had plagued you for so long.

And your kitty was satisfied at last.

Masterlist Leave your thought

[joonsmagicshop]

Period Sex with Tae

Summary: When your period comes unexpectedly and the cramps are unbearable Taehyung takes you in the shower to help with the pain. You know what also helps with period pain...orgasms

Paring: Taehyung/Reader (The other members are very minor characters)

Work Count: 5.5K

Rating: M/18+

Tags: smut, shower sex, period sex, he uses the pull out method but please be safe, sweet boyfriend Taehyung, smut with little plot, hand jobs, fingering, sex without protection, dirty talk, Tae gives reader so much praise, fluffy haired Tae my love, reader is on her period but blood isn't mentioned too much, pad users unite

Authors Note: Blame Taehyung and those shirtless pictures he posted he is a meance and I love him (Also I may be back in my taetae era stay tuned cause who knows)

To say this had been one hell of a week was a gross understatement, it almost seemed like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.

Monday, you walked out to your garage and noticed your car had a flat tire. Taehyung had already gone to work for the day so you sighed and called a cab to take you to work, which had you showing up twenty minutes late

Tuesday, you brought your car in to get the flat tire fixed and it turns out there was more wrong with your vehicle than you thought so they had to keep it overnight.

Wednesday it was finally fixed! And while you were elated to have a vehicle again, the four hundred-dollar bill made you want to cry.

Thursday, you finally felt like you got your bearings on the week, and just as you were about to enter an important meeting at work one of the interns bumped into you sending your coffee splashing all over your shirt.

But it was Friday now and you were excited for the weekend where you could do absolutely nothing and just relax.

Taehyung also had this weekend off and the two of you had plans to sit on the couch and cuddle and watch movies all weekend long. He had been so busy with work and you had been so busy with your own work that alone time had been scarce and you longed to be back in his embrace again.

As you woke up you noticed his side of the bed was already empty and you remembered him saying last night how he had a very busy and very long Friday ahead.

You slowly swung your legs out of bed and stretched in the morning sunshine when you felt it. The slick feeling between your legs had nothing to do with being turned on. You ripped the blankets off and stared between your legs where it seemed your period had started sometime in the night.

This was a week from hell and it was only going to get worse.

You hobbled to the bathroom to get cleaned up groaning to yourself as you did so, deciding the easiest way would be to take a quick shower to rinse yourself off.

Making your way back to the bedroom you changed the sheets, pleased to see there was very minimal damage but wanting to wash them anyway as you threw them in the washer and got ready for your day.

While you ate your breakfast your fingers hovered over your text message chain with Taehyung and you bit your lip. He always wanted to be the first to know when you got your period and usually, you did tell him but you knew he had a busy day ahead and you didn’t want to stress him out with something that happens to you every single month.

You quickly packed a lunch, placed the soiled sheets in the dryer, and left for the day.

By the time you got into your car at the end of the eight-hour workday, you were done. Done with this week. Done with this day. Done with your coworkers and your boss. You just really wanted to be at home with Taehyung. He always knew how to make these crappy days better.

You drove through your subdivision and sighed as huge droplets of rain began to hit your windshield and cascade down it. The sky had been dark and gloomy all afternoon but of course, when you are driving home, the sky decides to open up.

You turn down the road that leads to your gated community and press your small black swipe card to the sensor to open the gate.

The storm is picking up speed and you pray that you can get inside before it really starts to rain. You speed home but when you see the driveway you nearly cry out in frustration.

Other cars are parked there which means you have to park on the road. Other cars mean Taehyung has company and you know it is all the boys by the three giant nondescript black vehicles taking up your entire driveway.

You throw your car in park and rest your head on the steering wheel trying to calm yourself. It wasn’t Tae’s fault, he had no idea how you were feeling but it was still frustrating to know you had to come home after a very long week and entertain guests you didn’t know would be there.

Your cramps were starting to come on strong and all you wanted to do was curl up in the baggiest clothes you owned and take the longest sleep you could.

Instead, you put on your brave face and got out of the car. The rain was coming down heavier as you made your way up the driveway and into the house.

The noise was at an all-time high when you walked in and nearly tripped on the fourteen pairs of shoes that were littered in the entryway.

“Not like that!”

“Namjoon you know you aren’t even allowed to step foot in the kitchen!”

“Tae come help us with your TV!”

“Jin you wanted to help so grab a cutting board and help!”

“Taeeeeeeeee”

You gazed around and wondered for a quick second if you should just hop in your car and spend the night somewhere else when you were spotted by Jimin who was making his way from the kitchen to the living room.

He must have seen the look on your face or sensed the tiredness and frustration radiating off of you because he quickly said “Oh hey. Y/N.” in a very timid manner as you quietly kicked off your heels and your boyfriend Taehyung raced over to join you at the door.

“Hello, my love!” He sang as he wrapped his arms around you and instinctively you buried your head in his shoulder, taking in his scent and warmth and feeling much calmer.

“What’s going on?” You asked trying to keep your voice low, which didn’t matter as the volume in the house got louder.

“We got done work about twenty minutes ago and Yoongi wanted to watch a basketball game so I invited them over! Yoongi and Jin are making dinner!” He exclaims eyes wide and excited.

You try to put on your happiest face to match his excitement but he has been with you long enough to be able to read you.

“What’s wrong? I’m sorry I didn’t ask you… I just assumed it was okay. We have them over all the time.” Taehyung said as his hands came to your cheeks to keep your gaze locked on his.

“Tae it’s not your fault at all. It’s me. I had a bad week then got my period this morning and I’m just…surprised. I should have told you but I figured you had a busy day and I didn’t want you to worry about me.” You confessed as Taehyung’s eyebrows knit in concern and he leaned down to press the softest kiss to your left and right cheek as his hands stroked your hair.

“Oh Y/N if you told me I would have never invited them. I’m sorry.” He says holding your body flush against his, keeping you cradled against his chest

“It’s okay Tae. Really. I’ll be good I’m going to go upstairs and change okay.” You told him as you pulled away from his embrace and saw the frown that was painting his beautiful features.

“Are you sure darling? I could kick them out right now and we could have the night to ourselves?” He asks as you giggle and swat his arm lightly.

“Yes, Tae we have all weekend for that. Just let me change into some comfy clothes. I’ll be right down.” You respond getting on your tiptoes to kiss his lips sweetly.

His hands wrap around your waist to hold you steady against him as you melt into the kiss. He hums appreciatively against your lips sending tingles down your body as his long fingers tangle in your hair.

“Taehyung where is your garlic masher!” Jin calls out which has you both breaking the kiss as you blush and Taehyung giggles.

“It’s called a garlic press!” Yoongi yells correcting Jin.

“I’ll help him. Meet us down here whenever you are ready.” Tae mutters against your lips.

“Don’t let them ruin my kitchen” You warn wagging a finger as Taehyung pulls away.

“We already banned Namjoon from the kitchen.” He teases with a wink as he disappears to find the elusive garlic press.

The noise died down as you closed the bedroom door and let out a sigh. You hung your purse from the closet door handle knowing you would have to actually put it away at some point but right now you were too tired to care.

You walked into the bathroom and got cleaned up, changing out your pad for a fresh one and you made your way to the walk-in closet to pick out the comfiest clothes you could find.

You settled on a pair of black sweatpants and a baggy tee shirt.

You knew you should go downstairs and greet your guests. Maybe pitch in and help Yoongi cook or help set up the game for the boys, however, your body felt like it was weighed down by heavy bricks and even the thought of walking down the stairs was exhausting to you.

You decided to lay down on the bed and scroll your phone for no more than twenty minutes, just enough time for the painkillers to kick in and for your body to hopefully regain some energy.

You curled up in a ball on Taehyung’s side of the bed, taking in the smell of him that lingered on the pillow and before you could even pull up social media to scroll you had fallen asleep clutching Tae’s pillow

You were unsure how much time you had slept for but your eyes opened when the door cracked open and Taehyung was standing there staring at you with a worried expression.

“Taetae!” You cooed sleepily as he walked over to the side of the bed and kneeled down, the back of his hand pressing against your forehead to check for a fever.

You giggled.

“You were up here for almost forty minutes. I was worried about you.” He admitted as you smiled at him sleepily and clutched his pillow tighter.

“Sorry Tae I’m just so tired I was supposed to only be here for twenty minutes…tops.” You admit as you bury your face in his pillow again. While your cramps were gone for now your lower back throbbed and you whined as you curled tighter into yourself hoping the position would relieve the ache.

“I can send them home right now. Honest. I’ve never seen you like this. I’m worried.” He whispers pressing a soft kiss to your temple as you groan.

“I’m okay just usual period stuff. Don’t send them away I know how excited you are to watch the game with them. I just… I can’t socialize right now I’m so tired Taetae I feel like my eyes will melt out of my head if I keep them open. My energy is zero I’m so sleepy.” You whimper as Taehyung takes his time pushing your hair from your face and caressing your cheeks.

He looks so beautiful kneeling next to you, his brown hair, a fluffy mess atop his head, his eyes widened in worry, his teeth biting into his lip.

“Please don’t send them away. I’m just gonna stay up here for tonight. You can tell them I’m on my period, or sick. Whatever you want.” You sigh as his fingers gently trace your features and you blush under his gaze.

“Fine but at least let me get you comfy then.” He decides as you nod and he motions for you to sit up.

He disappears to the walk-in closet and when he returns he has his arms around his back and is giving you his classic boyish grin that makes your heart pound.

“Pick a hand!” He teases as you grin and immediately pick his left hand.

“Tada!” He chuckled as he showed you the big Tata plush he had hidden behind his back. He takes his time tucking it under your arm and you immediately bury your face in its softness and smile. It smells just like him.

“Don’t you mean tata instead of tada!” You tease as he shakes his head with a smile on his face.

“A hard-working woman and a comedian… how did I get so lucky” He jokes as he doesn’t wait for you to pick his other hand, he brings it from around his back to show you the soft brown sweater he had hidden.

It is your ultimate favorite sweater he owns because when he wears it he looks like a soft cuddly teddy bear.

“Arms up.” He instructs as you do so and he helps you put on the sweater.

You feel cocooned by warmth and love for your boyfriend and you can’t help but grin as he pulls the covers back and tucks you in, making sure Tata is secure under your arm.

“Now instructions for you, get some sleep. I’ll make sure the guys don’t eat all the food and I’ll save you some leftovers. Yoongi’s food always makes anyone feel better. And you-” He says pointing at Tata. “You take care of my girl or else.”

You laugh as you bury your face into the heart-shaped Tata and Taehyung kneels down to kiss your forehead again.

“I love you so much. Get some sleep. I’ll check on you in a bit okay?” He says as you nod and even before he leaves the room you are fast asleep once again.

“Rise and shine my sleeping beauty.” a deep voice sings out as you crack open an eye to see Taehyung standing in the doorway smiling at you.

“What time is it?” You ask groggily as you try to sit up but moan when a sharp cramp shoots through your body.

“Eight at night. The boys just left.” He says coming to keel by your side again.

You rub your eyes with your fists as Tae slowly pulls Tata from your grasp and throws him on the other side of the bed.

“Tata did great.” You tease as Taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I’m sure he did but now it’s my turn.”

He helps you sit up and you wince as your body reminds you that you are on your period.

“C’mere to the bathroom we go. I have the shower running.” He explains as he helps you to your feet and assists you with walking to the bathroom.

The room is already full of steam and you can see that he has your fluffiest towel already set up and ready. He is the sweetest most considerate man and your heart feels like it’s glowing under your shirt as his dark eyes gaze into yours affectionately.

“I want you to look in the mirror and watch how beautiful you are while I take off your clothes.” He requests as his long fingers come to the hem of the sweater he let you borrow and he slowly and carefully pulls it over your head.

“My beautiful girl.” He praises you as he delivers a kiss to each of your shoulders before removing your baggy shirt and letting your breasts spring free.

His hands roam down your sides and you suck in a deep breath when they come to play with the strings of your sweatpants.

“Your body is divine.” He coos as his hands slowly push the fabric of the sweatpants down as you stare at your reflection in the mirror.

All his praise is making your cheeks flush and the flush is starting to spread down to your chest as you cross your arms trying to hide how much his words are affecting you.

“Don’t hide that beauty from me my darling.” He growls as he kneels on the cold tile floor and kisses each hipbone right above your underwear and you shiver.

“Please let me do the next part. I don’t want you to see.” You whisper as Tae looks up at you through his fluffy fringe and nods, getting to his feet and turning around to give you privacy.

You discard the pad and jump in the shower soon after, not wanting to mess up the floor and you hear Taehyung hastily get out of his clothes and soon enough he joins you in the shower as well.

You both take your time under the hot water, drinking in each other’s company. You shampoo your hair and rinse and while your conditioner is doing its thing Taehyung shampoos and rinses his hair.

You take turns under the spray and Taehyung even grabs the loofa and offers to clean you off. He is careful with your body as he runs the loofa down your arms and over your chest. You whine and shiver when he runs it along your nipples but he doesn’t linger long before he dips it down your stomach coating your body with sweet-smelling soap.

You try your best to stay still when he soaps up your underarms and just as he is about to soap himself, you take the loofa from him and return the favour.

You run it over his shoulders and the hard expanse of his chest and arms. You can see how much his gym sessions with Namjoon and Jungkook have been paying off as you soap up his biceps and triceps grinning when you see him flex to show off his muscles.

When you work on his armpits he brings his hands up to rake his hair back from his face and he lets out a couple of squeals and giggles as you clean him off.

By the time you are nearly finished his cock is half hard and hanging between his legs. You scoop off some of the soap from the loofa to rub on his cock and Taehyung hisses and jerks into your hand.

“S-Sorry. You are just so unbelievably beautiful. I can’t take it.” He says flustered as you jerk him a couple of times then he moves so he is now under the spray rinsing off the soap.

“I wasn’t done you know.” You tease with a raise of an eyebrow as Taehyung chuckles and raises his arms to scrape his hair back from his face again. All you see are his biceps and how his toned stomach flexs and you feel arousal pool as you take in his wet naked frame.

Water droplets are clinging to his broad shoulders and the steam from the bathroom, plus your hot naked boyfriend seems to take your breath away.

“I know… but this isn’t about me, this is about you. Now c’mere.” He says as he spins you around so the spray is running down your body and over your stomach, easing the cramps as he pushes himself into your backside and hugs you from behind.

“You’re very hard you know.” You teasingly point out as he pushes your hair from your shoulder and kisses your neck softly.

“Don’t worry about it. It should go down eventually. I tend to get hard from my alluring girlfriend and how sexy she looks all wet and naked and mine.” He says lips hot against your skin.

He pushes your body from behind so you are under the spray even more and you hiss when the hot water hits your nipples. They are always so sensitive on your period and the sensation hurts too much as you pull back.

“You okay?” Tae asks as his kisses stop but he keeps his lips hovered over your neck.

“I’m fine the spray is just a lot on my nipples. They are always so sensitive and achy when I’m on my period.” You explain.

Taehyung wastes no time in covering your nipples with his palms, protecting them from the spray as he leans you forward again and the stream runs across his hands and down your body, easing your cramps.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” You admit softly as you look down to see Taehyung’s hands cupping you softly as he continues to press kisses to your neck and shoulder.

“You are so beautiful. I could spend my entire lifetime worshiping you.” He growls against your skin as he slowly thrusts his cock into your backside and you whimper when you feel how achingly hard he is.

Without warning his hands begin to play with your breasts, he stays away from the nipple but his lithe fingers knead the sensitive skin and you look down in time to see how gorgeous his hands look as they play with your breasts.

He is still shallowly thrusting his cock into your backside but you can’t take your eyes off his hands. How his veins pop out against the tanned skin as he works you with his skilled fingers, the way his fingers are so long and lean and can cover your entire breast with ease, how his forearms flex under his movements and suddenly you are reminded of all the things he has been able to do to you with these hands and you whimper.

“Fuck Tae you-gotta stop.” You breathe out as his movements slow but he still keeps his unspoken promise of keeping your sensitive nipples out of the spray.

“Everything okay my love?” He asks, his gravelly voice sending a smothering heat down to your core making you throb.

“You are gonna make me horny- we gotta- fuck we gotta stop.” You almost plead as he pulls you harsher into the hard planes of his body and out of the spray, his fingers instantly come to tweak your nipples and you cry out his name in a broken moan as you throw your head back against his shoulder.

“What’s wrong with being horny. I’m horny. Seriously the sight of your wet, naked body. Fuck you are a divine woman. I don’t think my cock has ever been this fucking hard.” He admits as he pushes it into your backside and you can feel just how horny he is as precum smears along your lower back.

“I’m on my period we-fuck Tae we can’t.” You plead as every nerve, every fiber of your being is telling you to get some friction against your aching clit. Your nipples are so sensitive and Taehyung has only sped up his movements making words almost impossible.

Your backside is arching into his cock, your pussy is throbbing around nothing and you feel so soaked you were surprised it wasn’t running down your legs.

“I’m not going to pressure you but if we were to have period sex wouldn’t the shower be the best place?” He asks lowly in your ear as you shiver even in the heat of the shower.

You turn around to face him to see he is very serious about it and your body is ablaze with need as you take in his dark eyes.

You reach a hand down to encircle his hard cock but he quickly swats your hand away and you look up at him and frown.

“That’s not fair.” You mutter.

“Yeah, it’s not fair that I will get to cum and you won’t because you are unsure about period sex. I don’t find it gross and I’m not weirded out by blood. Please let me do this for you.” He nearly pleads.

You waste no time wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders and bringing him in for a searing kiss. His hard cock is trapped between your slippery bodies and he moans when he feels your soft stomach press into his heated cockhead making it leak more precum that ends up smeared along your lower stomach.

The kiss is all fire and passion and when you reach a hand down to finally circle his cock he moans against your lips and you smile when he throbs in your hand.

You jerk him off, flicking your wrist at the top just the way he likes it and Taehyung is a moaning whining mess above you.

“It feels too good. You gotta slow down.” He begs as you loosen your fist but keep stroking him, loving the feeling of his hard shaft against your palm and how he becomes so wet when you run your thumb over the head of his flushed cock.

You break away from the kiss and Taehyung dips a hand into your center and you freeze, eyes wide and panicked as you stare up at him.

“Sorry just…nervous.” You say using your free hand to grab his wrist to stop him as you both take several deep breaths.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. But honestly, it’s just blood. I’m not grossed out.” He promises as you loosen your grip and he dips a long finger into your folds.

Your eyes flutter closed and you rest your head on his chest at the sensation of him running a finger up and down your center. He takes his time with you as if you were a beautiful piece of art he wanted to savor and when he finally circles your clit you cry out against his chest.

“I got you baby. Let me take care of you.” He mutters against your wet hair as you release his cock to hold onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright.

Taehyung hums in appreciation as he slowly circles your clit and you spread your legs wider for him. The sensation is unreal as you have never been this sensitive before in your life.

Taehyung dips a finger in and for a moment you wince in worry he will pull away and be disgusted, but he sticks to his promise and curls his finger up to hit that spot inside of you that makes you cry out his name.

While Tae works you open with one hand, the other comes around your body to hold you flush against him. He presses soft kisses to the crown of your head and when he adds another finger your knees buckle, and without missing a beat he grips you tighter.

“I got you my love. My most beautiful treasure. Let go, baby. Let go and cum all over my fingers.” He growls and without warning you do so. You feel your body spasm and if it wasn’t for his strong arm holding you up you were sure you would have fallen to the floor.

Your toes curl against the tile as you cum and Tae whispers praises in your ear as you ride out your high.

By the time you come down, you feel much better, and when he pulls away to stare at you you can’t help but kiss him and thank him over and over again.

Taehyung laughs against your mouth as you are a babbling mess of chanting his name and chanting thank yous as you kiss him harshly pouring all your love you have for him out into this kiss.

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m not done with you yet babe. Turn around.” He says with a soft smack to your ass as you do so and brace your hands on the cold tiled wall.

He grabs at his hard cock and runs in through your soaked folds staring at the water running down your back and down your perfect ass cheeks.

You look back to watch him take in your body and you blush under his fiery gaze when his eyes lock onto yours.

“Please Tae.” You beg even though you already had one orgasm it didn’t feel like enough and your body was aching for more as you pushed back into him desperate to get him to fill you up.

You were craving the feeling of his big cock stretching you out and you kept pushing back against him in hopes he would get the hint and slip inside.

“I’m going to be honest I don’t know how long I’m going to last. You were so tight and wet around my fingers I almost came just from fingering you.” He admits with a shy smile as you push back again against his cock impatience getting the best of you.

“Don’t care. Need you to fuck me.” You whine as he chuckles and lines his cockhead up with your entrance.

Taehyung slips in with ease but you groan when you feel how much he is stretching you out and the burn is unbearable as he slowly inches inside.

“Why are you so fucking big.” You cry out when he finally bottoms out and traces small circles on your hips.

“Fuck the way your pussy is squeezing me. F-Fuck you are so tight and wet. Why didn’t we do this sooner? Your pussy is the best cockring I’ll ever have” He growls as you squeeze your eyes shut from the sheer fullness of him.

“I’m not gonna last long, holy fuck baby your pussy is milking my cock already and I haven’t even moved.” He frets as his hands come to knead at your ass and you slowly circle your hips trying to get your body to adjust.

“You are so big Taehyung holy fuck you are gonna rip me in half.” You whine as you slowly rock yourself back and forth on his cock and Taehyung is gritting his teeth and doing everything in his power not to cum all over you within twenty seconds of entering you.

“You are going to squeeze every last drop of cum I have out of my cock. Relax baby. Big deep breaths.” He almost begs as he hauls you up so your back is flushed against his front and he uses his big hands to play with your nipples.

The way his hands were tantalizingly dancing across your breasts and nipples had you moaning out his name and thrusting back against his cock. The sting was overpowered by a sense of fiery need and he quickly got the hint and began to thrust up into you with force.

You splayed your hands out against the tiles to stop yourself from falling forward as Taehyung thrust deep inside of your body, growling against your ear and letting his fingers flick and play with your nipples in such a way it turned your body to puddy.

“Baby I want to fuck you all night long but I can’t… seriously your pussy is so warm and sh-shit so wet.” He growls out picking up speed and making you cry out his name as you move your hips to meet his thrust.

The pleasure is overpowering, it is aflame and you are burning up as you feel your stomach clench and your body swim with desire.

“C-Close.” You cry out as Taehyung tweaks your nipple and you cum around his cock. Moaning his name and arching your back as your walls clamp down and Taehyung grits his teeth not wanting to cum inside of your body as he lets you ride out your high.

Your hands are slipping along the tiles and you nearly fall forward as your legs give out but Taehyung catches you and pulls his cock out, eyes wild with desperation as you take the hint and sink to your knees.

“Cum on my face Tae. Paint me a pretty picture all over my face.” You whine as his fingers grip his cock and he begins to stroke it frantically.

You kneel on the floor with your tongue open and you flutter your eyelashes at him as he works his cock. All it takes is for you to cup your breasts in your small hands and push them together for Taehyung to lose it.

He moans loudly and his cock spurts cum all over your lips and cheeks. You sigh in ecstasy as Taehyung continues to jerk his throbbing cock which has more cum falling from it and this time it falls right into your open mouth.

You swallow whatever you can and when he comes down from his high he stares at you in utter disbelief as you get up off the ground to rinse the cum from your cheeks, chin, and neck.

“Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit that was so hot. Fuck.” He mutters under his breath as you turn to face him and you wrap your arms around him leaning your head on his chest and smiling when you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

“Thank you Taetae.” You whisper as you lift your head and his hands come up to cup your cheeks.

“If anything I should be thanking you. That was the hottest thing I have ever seen holy shit.”

You giggle and finally turn off the water as you step out of the shower and dry off.

“Our water bill is going to be insane this month.” You tease as Taehyung finally seems to get his bearings and he steps out of the shower as well.

“Oh, it will be! You can bet your ass we are doing that at least six more times before your period is over.” He teases eye gleaming as you shake your head and swat him with the towel.

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[prentissluvr]

OKAY HERE ARE SOME SAM THOUGHTS BEFORE I CLEAN MY ROOM (some platonic but mostly romantic)

loves getting his hair played with (romantically and platonically)

main love language is quality time

could have this giant on his knees if you compliment constantly (his looks or his personality) (mainly his personality) (he knows and is aware of how conventionally attractive he is but isn’t cocky about it) (like another winchester LOL)

runs warmer than the average human being so he’s your personal heater in the winter

but in the summer you make sure he stays far away from you bc man sweats A LOT in his sleep 😭😭

I HAVE MORE BUT I GOTTA CLEAN MY ROOM

ILL BE BACK LATER WITH DEAN AND MORE SAM 🤭🤭

djhJHFSKDJ SAMMMMM AAA okay okay bear with me while i go absolutely insane LMAO. like this is long LOL so i am gonna add a cw for anyone who stumbles upon our time of feeding each others delusions <3 i got carried away ahahahaha hehehehehe i'm normal about him tho!

wc: 1.6K. cw: kissing, a bit of swearing, brief mention of things trying to kill you bc that's the life lol, unedited

⟢ playing with his hair : do NOT get me started on sam's hair <3 it's always so pretty, and you have to make that known! sure, you do it out loud, but we'll get to the complimenting in a bit hehe. your favorite way of making it known (and definitely his) is by playing with it. constantly. and he can never get enough. sure, he gets embarrassed or picky about it around dean, like he does with just about anything romantic or sweet (mostly because dean won't ever let that sort of thing go un-teased). but he just loves so much to lay his head in your lap and let you thread your fingers through that pretty brown hair <33 it makes him feel so relaxed, and cared for in a way that doesn't feel overbearing or overly obvious.

and he loves it especially it because he knows that you do. he can feel you physically relax from under him when you sweetly run your hands through his hair, gently pulling apart any small knots and taking your time to take care of that gorgeous head of hair. he will also certainly melt and try to hide the pink tint to his cheeks when you reach for his hair unexpectedly, like when you lean in to fix a fly-away strand or full on card your hands through his hair when he's in the middle of research and didn't notice you approach.

also!! put your hands in his hair when he's kissing you!!! please!!! he's begging on his knees!!! god, he loves that so so much and he gets a secret ego boost because, once again, he can physically feel how much you love it too. he'll always kiss you harder when your hands move to tangle themselves in his hair.

gets embarrassed if you put little braids in his hair, especially as he grows older and it grows longer, but he can't resist how much it makes you smile, so he lets you get away with it if dean isn't around. and just imagine putting pretty clips in his hair LOL he pouts and asks you to take them out immediately, but not before kissing the smug grin off of your lips. will die and try his hardest to delete them if you ever get pictures of him like that, but you keep your blackmail well protected hehe.

as for platonically, that is facts! he thinks its very sweet if you're his best friend or sibling! it's not as big a thing as it would be in a romantic relationship, but he'll love to have his hair played with by anyone willing <33

⟢ love language; quality time : this is like almost sad and especially sweet at the same time because the poor boy has no time to spend much quality time with you. but again, this kind of makes this whole thing sweeter because that means each moment is just that much more precious. obviously, he'd love to be spending quality time with you by going on dates in the park, taking you to a nice restaurant that's not too stuffy, or something even as simple as taking you to the movies. but those things are hard to do, so to him, any time spent with you without the presence of something trying to kill you can be turned into that precious quality time.

for him, it's about sitting on the couch with your legs strewn over him or his head on your lap or yours on his shoulder (really any sort of thing keeping him connected to you) as you pour over lore books. it's about the seamless exchange when the two of you figure out how to kill your monster or save the world together. it's about posing as fbi to get answers and slipping his hand into yours when no one's looking or grabbing a decent breakfast together before the start of a busy day. all he cares about, the things he treasures, are you falling asleep on him in the back of the impala because he gave up shotgun to sit next to you, taking months, maybe longer to get through one season of a tv show together, and always taking even just a small moment out of a busy day to be together.

⟢ complimenting him : it's true that he needs less assurance about his looks because he certainly is aware that he is fine as fuck. but let's definitely establish that he adores to hear praise about his looks specifically from you because duh! he's in love with you and you're the only one he cares about!!

but yeah, when you compliment his personality, his sweet, loving, courageous hot sometimes completely idiotic and frustrating self?? oh he's done for. he's honestly far less used to that. when you're half asleep, and you murmur into his chest that you think he's so smart, kind, funny, loving, and brave and that you couldn't be more proud to be his? he's complete mush in your arms, he can't believe it.

"that's all you, baby," he'll refute, and you'll certainly grow bashful under his compliment, but you want him to accept it, at least a little bit. "i mean it, sammy, i really do." your voice is all soft and sleepy, and oh so earnest that he can't help the aching of his heart. "i know you do," he'll whisper, suddenly emotional and not wanting you to hear it. "i'm just glad you think so. i'll always do my best to be those things for you," and that's the kind of thing he only admits when the sole light in the room comes from a dim, clouded over moon and your head is tucked under his chin so you can't see his face. he means it, of course, but he's not used to such vulnerability and blatant adoration.

he'll clench his jaw when you tell him you know that, but that it's true that he's all those things and more for so many people, the few close ones, and all the ones he passes by and does his best to save. he doesn't fully believe you, he's got a lot of guilt built up in that sweet mind of his. and it's true he's not perfect, but you never said that. all you're trying to tell him is that you love who he is, so much, and he can never thank you enough for that.

bonus, he really really loves when you tell him you think he's funny. it's definitely an ego booster, plus he loves loves loves to know that he can always make you smile and laugh.

⟢ your personal heater : this is literally sooo true. he's so big with so much body mass that he'd have so much body heat to give off. but i so agree that on top of that, he'd also totally be on the warmer side. if you're naturally warm as well, then you two are an unstoppable force in the winter time (the both of you are lulled to sleep by the other's body heat in a matter of minutes). either way, he'll always envelope you in hugs when it gets cold because he knows it'll warm you up right away. he doesn't have to ask to know when you're cold, because you'll always press yourself to him, maybe grabbing his arm and pulling it around yourself before even saying a thing to him.

"you cold?" he'll ask sweetly, and after feeling your nod and hearing your muffled "mhmm," he's quick to wrap his other arm around you too and pull you closer.

for the folks with cold hands like me, he's always trying to warm them up with his own. whether you've slipped your hand in to his just to be near and they're particularly chilly, or he can see you trying to warm your hands up yourself, he's quick to take up both of your hands in his to warm them up. when he grabs up both of your hands, he'll pull them to his chest and hold them there until he's satisfied they're warm. he'll look into your eyes and talk about something completely unrelated, all casual as if he's not making you flustered. other times, he'll warm up one hand at a time, encasing it in both of his own, rubbing it and blowing warm air on it before gently slipping it into his warm, warm pockets and moving on to the other.

also, if he finds out your face is cold, he'll cup your cheeks with his large, furnace hands or full on just pull your face into his head or neck to warm you up that way.

but yeah😭😭 summer can be a lot less pleasant. if you manage to have cold hands even in the summer (i could never i wish), he'll try to steal the coolness from your hands and you'll be like oh my god please stop i'll die LOL.

and you're like nooo babe of course i want to sleep with you, you just have to stay as far away as possible and never touch me because it might burn me to death. if he's tired and touch-starved younger sam will pout at you and tell you he just wants to cuddle. later seasons sam just won't take no for an answer and will just pull you to him until he gets too hot himself lmao. he'll make sure there's a fan on you first and a glass of ice water on your bedside. basically he loves that he's warm in the winter because it brings you closer to him, then gets pissed about it in the summer because you don't want him too close unless there's sufficient a/c or some other form of ventilation to make it cooler lol.

[billsbabydoll]

“𝒾𝓃𝓃ℴ𝒸ℯ𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎.”

contains:SMUT<3

summary:intrigued at my pure innocence, tom takes it upon himself to completely corrupt me of my purity and show me how to be “good little girl” for him.

WARNINGS:dom!tom, virgin!reader, mutual-masturbation, pet-names, praising, corruption kink, HEAVY daddy kink, age gap (reader-19 tom-24), p in v (from the back), couch sex, multiple orgasms.

notes:sorry for abandoning you guys ive been lacking motivation to finish a story, this is like my 4th draft!

“wait you’ve never had sex?!”tom questions a curious and eager gaze glimmering in his eyes, the whole world and myself included very well knew tom was no stranger to sex, so once learning of my purity he was ultimately not only surprised but determined to change that.

“y-yeah your my first kiss too, everything else is unknown to me, complete virgin..”i nervously chuckled, sensing his interest in this new found information.

“well baby whats holding you back, too scared?!”he teased giggling at my nervous demeanor, beginning to tickle and poke at the sides of my hips.

i burst into laughter as his tickling becomes more intense and unbearable causing me to squirm and wiggle, my back landing and now resting on the couch.he climbed on top of me his legs keeping me in place, his hands holding mine firmly above my head.

he looks deeply into my eyes, his gorgeous dark eyes piercing into my soul like he could hear every beat of my pounding heart.

“can i teach you hun? i promise ill show you how to do everything..make you feel so good.”he said in a soft and mesmerizing tone, his voice drawing me in right into the palm of his hand.

“b-but i don’t know how-”i mumbled innocently, my soft little eyes looking up into his, my lips quivering with jitters.

“let me teach you, show you how to be such a good little girl for me.”he quickly replied taking no further moment to dive his lips into my own, his lips tangling mine into a passionate and deep kiss.i moan into his mouth as his tongue slips inside my mouth, exploring every inch.

he pulls away letting his grip of me go now sitting up straight, he then starts signaling for me to undress.once the last piece of clothing is now gone onto the floor and no longer on my body he looks me up and down taking in every single part of my body.

“where have you been hiding all of this hm? fuck your gorgeous schatzi…”he purred a smug smile spreading across his lips.

“now spread your legs and let me show you how good this feels okay?”

“okay..”i whisper anxiously as i slowly open my legs, my pussy now exposed for the first time right infront of his very own eyes.

“atta girl, now we’re gonna start slow hm?”he explained his hand reaching out, the tips of fingers making contact with my clit and my folds, rubbing them ever so slightly.

“that feel alright?”

“y-yeah mmh..”i moan at the unfamiliar but unexpectedly delicious feeling, his fingers moving now at a firm yet still gentle pace.

“look at you, such a pretty little pussy..tell me how this feels baby.”he chuckles at my reaction knowing this was just the beginning, he now slides his index and ring finger inside my tight walls.

“o-oh god!”i cry at the feeling of my cunt stretching to the length of his large fingers.he begins pumping his fingers in and out, the pain quickly being replaced with the unknown sensation of pleasure.

“doing so good baby, such a good girl.”he praises enjoying the sight of me withering and crumbling from the pleasure he providing me, he continues pumping his fingers inside me.meanwhile using his free hand to pull down his jeans, remove his shirt, and lastly reveal his length to me.

“daddy what is that?”i mumbled taking in the never before seen sight right infront of me, analyzing his erect length, with a pinkish tip dripping with clear strange liquid.

“this is what happens when you get me excited sweet girl, lemme teach you now how to make daddy feel good..”he cooed smirking at the pure curiosity in my eyes, he pulls his fingers out of me and now takes my right hand in his bringing it down to his cock.he then begins to guide my hand up and down his length, groaning at the sensation.

“thats it baby, just like that..”he croaks in between his desperate moans, letting my hand go allowing me to now try on my own, his fingers finding their way back inside my virgin walls.

“mmhm! t-that feels so good..”

“ughh-told ya, daddys gonna make you feel good baby..”

he whispers staring deeply into my soul as he continues to savor the feeling of my small hand gliding up and down his large length, his tip oozing with sticky clear liquid.he reaches his free left hand up to my perky breast, squeezing and rubbing my tender skin.

we continue at this for a few minutes tom talking me through what i freshly experiencing, before i soon feel a weird bubble beginning to build up in the pit of my core.

“ughh d-daddy i-mmhm im gonna-!”i moan my legs beginning to squirm and shake at this point, he nods excitedly beginning to pump his fingers inside me faster and more aggressively.

i throw my head back hitting it onto the arm rest, my hands gripping on the leather of couch, my eyes rolling into the back of my head, my mind going blank, my mouth hanging open spewing the most horrendous noises.

“mmh-yeah cmon baby cum a-all over my hand, my little good girl.”he encouraged, my juices quickly spilling down on his hand coating his fingers with my precious ooze.

i rapidly come down from my rush, quickly being flipped over on my stomach, my face crashing into the couch pillows.tom climbing behind me slapping my ass before sliding his member inside my virgin cunt.

i whimper at the feeling of his girthy length filling me up inch by inch, my walls unaccustomed to being so stretched out, he then began to thrust himself inside me steadily, moaning at my precious walls clenching around his cock.

“taking me so well sweet girl, taking daddys cock like a good girl hm?”

“t’much i cant mmh-i cant!”

“mmhm you can take it baby, i know you can!”

he coos building his pace faster and harder devouring my pussy with his cock like a starved man, he simply just cant get enough of the feeling of my innocence being completely destroyed and shattered.

the living room was soon filled with the smell of warmth and sex, sound of sweaty skin slapping and string of moans filled both our ears, the couch rocking beneath us from the impact of our love-making.

“ugh!baby im gonna mmhc-cum!”he announced loudly, his hands gripping harshly at the skin of my shoulders, continuing to pound his cock inside me.

“gonna cum all i-inside that little pussy!”

he croaked fucking himself harsher and harsher than ever in my pussy, his tip kissing and hitting that special spongey part deep inside my pussy.i soon felt his seed spraying into my walls coating them completely in his sticky liquid.

i completely explode at the blissful feeling, completely seeing stars as i begin to tremble once again, my juices mixing with his.

we both pant aggressively coming down from our high, tom rests his head on the crook of my shoulder peppering gentle kisses on my smooth but wet with sweat skin, before pulling his member out of my aching pussy.

“not so innocent now hm sweet angel?”

THE END

[milla984]

It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween

Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)

Word Count: 5.4k

This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”

You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”

She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions. 

“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”

You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.

“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.” 

Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”

“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.

The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.

“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”

Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.

“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”

This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.

“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”

“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”

Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.

“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”

You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”

Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back. 

You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant. 

Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.

Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.

“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.

You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.

“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.

A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack. 

His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”

“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.

Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.

“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”

“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”

The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.

“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”

He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.

You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”

Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome. 

He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.

“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”

“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”

“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.

His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all –uhm, sexual experiences?”

“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words. 

“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”

“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”

He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”

“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”

Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”

“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume. 

Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.

Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble. 

Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment. 

You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.

You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.

Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you. 

He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.

He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.

You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”

“Y– yes…” he muttered.

His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper. 

For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.

You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task. 

You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—

“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”

You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”

The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted. 

“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.

You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”

Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it. 

You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.

You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.

You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.

When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.

“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.

“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”

You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”

“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.

You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.

You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.

He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close. 

Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.

You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.

The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.

“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”

Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”

“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.

You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom. 

You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin. 

You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?

Your brain was going in severe overdrive. 

You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.

“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.

He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”

His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.

“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.

Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before. 

“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”

Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.

You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”

“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”

In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.

“Spencer…”

“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication. 

“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”

Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”

He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.

If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”

“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”

You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”

The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.

You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”

“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.

He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots. 

You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”

He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.

“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.

You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.

He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”

“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him. 

“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off. 

His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”

You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.

“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.

You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.

You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”

Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.

He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.

“How do I feel? Spence...?”

Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”  

“You like it?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement. 

All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!” 

Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.

He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.

“Spence, I need more…” 

He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.

When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”

He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”

“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.

He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.

You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded. 

He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected. 

Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.

“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor. 

He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls. 

“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”

He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”

“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”

“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”

“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”

He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”

This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.

“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”

“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."

NB: I'm not using my regular taglist for Spencer Reid smut fics but I'm obviously tagging only the users who sent a request. If you wish to be added you can send me an ask or leave a comment below with the request to be added.

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| I just want attention! |

Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader (Requested!)

Asking Toji for a divorce.

Word Count: 1.5k

CW: SFW, domestic mostly fluff and some angst, happy ending.

A/n: TYSM to the anon who requested! I'm not very experienced with writing angsty stuff so if it's bad my apologies. (Also tag: @chilichopsticks)

From the moment you met Toji, he was nothing but a gentleman to you. Maybe that was why you fell so hard and so quickly, so that when he was on one knee with a ring you didn’t hesitate at all after only a few months of being together. 

He always swept you off your feet, when you got off work he picked you up and took you wherever you wanted to go. He always tried to make you happy and spend as much time with you as possible, buying you flowers when you got a promotion and taking you to an early screening of a movie from your favorite franchise, were only a few of the many things he would do often for you.

All he asked for in return, was for you to accept him, faults and all. He had made mistakes in the past, and still worked as an assassin, which was the only job he felt he was well suited for. With you in mind, he quit his gambling habit. After so many loses he finally got some sense knocked into him and decided to saved up his money, so that the moment the two of you tied the knot you wouldn’t have to work at all. 

To most, Toji was seen as arrogant, if not invisible since he kept to himself, something that you never understood. On the day of your wedding, you were picked up in his arms and carried directly to the car, where he drove the two of you to your honeymoon destination right after the ceremony and fuss was over. Two weeks of hot springs and relaxing in a small town awaited you, where your husband doted on you more than ever. Every morning you awoke to a sweet kiss on your forehead, and warm arms engulfing you, making you wish you could sleep forever in the comfort of his protection.

You made sure to snap plenty of shots of walking around to the different shrines and temples, and your husband wearing a yukata which he realized he was rather fond of. By the end of your trip you were more in love with him than ever, and even more ready to embrace a wonderful life as his wife in your new home. 

Somewhere in your heart you knew that feeling might not last forever, the butterflies you got every time Toji was around you. But everyone always said the honeymoon phase lasted at least a few months… not the length of the actual honeymoon. Nothing your family and friends had said about marriage prepared you for this reality, that the fade to normal life would be so sharp.

By the time the two of you got back to the house, your husband was already heading right back to work as usual. You kept yourself busy with unpacking all the boxes and setting things up around the house, but in a way that only made getting used to a routine harder. Toji didn’t come back for four days, being on a job he got unexpectedly. 

His quick call barely did anything to calm your nerves. He was always so careful about telling you about his work before the two of you were married, trying not to worry you. Of course you knew Toji was strong, and you tried not to doubt him, but you could barely sleep from thinking about it. Now living with him you could feel his absence by the empty side of the bed and the single plate of food on the dining room table. 

As soon as he was back, you were overjoyed by his presence, almost thinking that feeling you were missing had returned. But, it wasn’t for long. No matter how many hobbies you took up at home, or how many friends you made in your new neighborhood, the absence of your husband would always bother you. When he was right in front of you, he was still the gentleman you always remembered, who you loved with every ounce of your being. But when he was away, you couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about you as much as you did about him. If he even missed you, he was gone so often for his assignments. As weeks turned to months, it blurred into routine and so did the wall that started to grow between the two of you.

That day, you had finally had enough. After contemplating it in your head for a few weeks, you realized that the two of you were still relatively new into your marriage, and you could still probably get your job back even if things changed. Of course you still loved him, and you couldn’t imagine your life without him, but right now, that was almost what you were living. He got less and less affectionate every time he came home, and it was too stressful to have to worry every day that he got home safe in a job that you didn’t fully understand, as he couldn’t tell you much for your own safety.

You had promised him you would stay by his side for anything, but he had done the same for you. And right now, neither of you were anywhere near each other. Toji had no idea you had taken up watching the neighbor’s kid after school some days, or that you baked a fresh loaf of bread at the start of every week, something he was never there to try. You didn’t know where he was or sometimes for how long, not getting much more than a promise that he’d come home safe. 

“Smells good, what’d you make?” Toji inhaled deeply as he walked into the house. For the first time in your marriage he was home on a Monday, bread making day. “It’ll be ready soon,” you referred to the loaf sitting on a cooling rack. You forwent the normal welcome, though you did it so rarely that it seemed to go unnoticed. Making a cup of coffee to go with a slice of the bread, you shifted you feet uncomfortably, making Toji watch your movements carefully. “Thanks,” he muttered, grabbing the bread off the plate while you sat down in front of him. 

The two of you sat in silence. Starting it off with that question felt far too daunting. “Y’know what, I was thinking we should take a vacation,” he started, “for a week or two.” You lifted your head up to look at him. “Haven’t done that in awhile, huh,” he groaned, hand rubbing his neck at your bland expression. 

He dropped his hand and sat up straight when he saw your face change. Your eyes, usually so cheerful and lovely, looked only of pain as they flooded with tears. “Toji, you know that I love you, I…” he watched you carefully as you spoke. “I… just can’t do it anymore,” you started to breath deeply, turning away to avoid your husband’s eyes. 

Toji grabbed your hand softly, encouraging you to squeeze it back as he listened. “I love you too, okay? Just talk to me,” he muttered, trying to decrease the tension though he knew in his gut what you were going to say. Clearly it had been on your mind for a while, you just wanted to get it over with. “I miss you, a lot, but I know you’ve got your work and everything,” you grasped his fingers, pressing into them lightly. “But I just don’t know what I’m doing here, aside from worrying about you. I’m not even doing anything for you.”

Tears flooded down your cheeks as Toji reached up to wipe them away with his thumb. “Maybe we just shouldn’t be together,” as much as he was prepared for your words, they still hit him like a ton of bricks. If only he could express how special every moment the two of you had together was to him, and how excited he was to make new ones. “I love you, okay? I didn’t marry you for nothin’, remember that.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I don’t want to be without you, but my work takes me away a lot.” Toji frowned, realizing your apprehension to fall into his arms was something he should have noticed beforehand. “I’ll quit, I’m serious. I just want you to be happy, okay? I don’t want to get divorced.”

“It’s not just that, it’s-” he tucked you into his chest. “You’re right, just calm down and we can talk about it,” you nodded against the fabric of his shirt. “I just want some attention, it’s like we don’t even know each other sometimes,” you whined, wrapping your arms around him as well. He smiled as you brought your head out, face dry of tears but still a bit pink. “I want to learn everything about you, yeah? Like how’d you get so good at baking…” he bit off a chunk of bread, now room temperature and slathered in butter. 

“This isn’t the time for joking, I just told you I wanted to get divorced,” you sulked as Toji laughed. “I’m just glad you changed your mind,” he let out a sigh of relief. “I still want to talk about this, but let’s leave it off for a bit,” he held you tighter, “I’d rather relax before I have to tell Shiu I’m quitting…”

[loviingpedri]

hi:) can u pls write a fic where trent has a secret gf (there’s no reason to keep her a secret, he just likes having her to himself and wants their relationship to be just theirs for a while) but his friends/brothers notice him always ditching them to meet/call ‘someone’ and they start teaching him like damnn are u in love or something??? thank you :)

secret lover - trent a.a

prompt: request

warnings: grammar issues

credits to all owners for images

trent was the best boyfriend. you couldn’t ask for someone better than him.

he prioritized you. he valued you. to him, his whole life is you.

keeping his dedication to you, it was a mutual agreement to be a secret couple. you loved it. it was adorable how you would be far away from him in a bar while he tried to sneak away to see you. how he would hide his phone when he got your messages. or when he simply left parties very early because he couldn’t bear to be without you.

of course it was getting suspicious. how he would step out of team dinners for almost 20 minutes to call you. his absence at places weren’t going to be dismissed either.

“hey trent. are you going to my place later for some games?”

“i don’t think so, mate. got some things to do.” once again, his friends were disappointed that he was ditching them again.

“what’s going on with you trent? that’s like the tenth time you bailed on us. don’t tell me you’ve met someone and haven’t thought to tell us.” the suspicion was rising once again.

“of course not. you’re my best mate, i can’t keep secrets from you.” lying through his cheeky smile, trent had relief wash over him as his friends just kept walking.

deciding to cancel your movie night since it was getting hard to keep your relationship a secret now, trent had decided to go to his friend’s house. if trent didn’t go there, they would come to him. and hiding was not a safe option for you.

“i’ll take some time to call you, yeah?” it wasn’t trent without dedicating some of his fun time towards you. it was hard for him to simply leave. he wanted to be with you every chance he could get.

“don’t worry about it. just have fun.” you kissed him goodbye and watched him leave.

trent took his sweet time getting there. it was the effort of being there, not how he got there.

“no way, trent actually came to join in on the fun.” getting out of his car, he was instantly met with shock.

“don’t push it mate.” after an hour of just playing straight video games and snacking, trent was missing you bad. he excused him to go call you.

“hey babe, how’s it going?” seeing your face made him instantly smile.

“not bad. just beat all of them in mario kart though. i’m a professional.”

“i see you got a new hobby now.”

“yeah. i might stay another hour, but i do miss you a lot.”

unexpectedly, his friends all heard the last sentence.

“do you have a special someone on the other line?” he was shocked, he just turned off the phone without even hanging up.

“what are you on about?” acting dumb was not his speciality.

“said you missed someone, i wonder who.”

“just my mom. don’t overthink it.”

“you’ve been ditching us for the past 2 months to go see your mom? don’t lie trent, you’ve been talking to someone.” he was in a sticky situation. he had no more words to say.

“trent, are you in love? you’re turning red a little bit.” just the thought of you made him light up.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” he touched the back of his head in nervousness.

“arnold is really in love.”

all of a sudden, you broke into a laugh which was heard in the silent room. that laugh was definitely not from his mother as they’ve met her before. trent cursed at himself for not hanging up as his friends demanded to meet you. the secret was finally out.

[icejjfishesz]

008. ༺AND I LOVE HER༻∘

a/n: it's been a minute sorry y'all i had no energy to write lmao 😭😭

summary: after getting unexpectedly left by your roommate, you find yourself in need of a replacement.

contents: paige is down bad. rushed (sorry).

previous. next. masterlist.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

she was wearing paige’s hoodie. smiling up at her from where she sat. on the edge of her bed, legs dangling off the side. olivia tilted her head to the side, watching as paige walked up to the bed in front of her. 

paige was smiling too but it felt more forced cautious. olivia hasn’t been this way since they first got together. paige missed it desperately but now that she had it back it felt…disappointing. 

when paige left you, she went straight to olivia’s place. for closure, is what she told herself but she knew the truth. so did you. she was running. back to what she knows, away from something new that made her feel something she never had. back to olivia. the blonde didn’t quite know what to expect but she didn’t expect what she got. olivia apologized immediately, which was already enough to shock paige but then she took the time to listen to all of paige’s concerns and then shared her own. it was too late mature and necessary and overdue.

“do you wanna watch a movie?” olivia’s voice is pure honey, sweet and thick. she reaches for paige’s hand, and paige lets her grab it but is almost repulsed by the touch. she forced herself to relax into the feeling of olivia’s skin on her own, but she couldn’t help but compare it to yours. 

do you wanna watch a movie…a simple task that she couldn’t bring herself to agree to. it’s something she used to do with you. even before olivia ended things with her. that was something for the two of you. doing it with olivia now felt like betrayal and it made paige shake her head. “no, i’m tired. can we just lay together?”

olivia smiles impossibly brighter and it makes paige’s heart sink –– guilt eating her alive from the inside out, bones and all. she pulls the blonde onto the bed beside her and takes paige’s arm and wraps it around her own waist. 

“i really did miss you…” olivia whispers, bringing a hand up to caress paige’s cheek. 

the blonde smiles slightly, opening up her mouth to say something unconvincing. “me too.”

olivia chuckles shyly. “that’s it?”

“what?”

olivia sighs and bites her lip. “is something wrong? you’re being weird…”

paige couldn’t deny it. it’s true. she couldn’t get out of her head. she didn’t want to. she wanted to stay in her head forever to avoid the problem. the thoughts of you. but she couldn’t exactly admit that she can’t stop thinking about you either…so she lies through her teeth. “no, babe…nothing’s wrong.”

olivia doesn’t pry which paige is grateful for, she simply lets her thumb rub the blonde’s cheek more. “i really want this to be different this time.”

“yeah, so do i –– ”

“no, i’m serious –– i know that our relationship was very rocky in the past and I know that I have jealousy issues. and commitment issues. and anger issues.” olivia rambles, staring 

paige’s whole face pools in confusion at olivia’s words. what the hell? “...olivia?”

“no…hear me out, okay?” she clears her throat. “i want to work on all of that..with you.”

the confusion is still prominent on paige’s face as she blinks at the girl in front of her. 

“god, i’m so bad at this.” she sighs, clearing her throat again. “i’m trying to ask you to be my girlfriend. officially.”

the blonde’s mouth becomes dry, her heart beating so hard she can hear it. the entire room goes quiet and she opens and closes her mouth a few times. this is all paige has wanted to hear from her. for so long. this was all she wanted. but it doesn’t make her happy like it should. she feels nothing but unwavering guilt. 

“i can’t.” paige sits up abruptly, feeling like she as olivia’s jaw drops. “i’m sorry…i can’t.”

“what?” 

“i slept with her.”

she isn’t sure why she chose right now to tell olivia that but it’s the only thing that came to mind. olivia was finally willing to give paige all she wanted but all she could think about was you.

“your roommate?” olivia sighed defeatedly.

“yes.”

the silence is palpable. extremely awkward. 

“it’s okay. we weren’t together…and you only did that cause i left you, right? i forgive you. we can be happy now.” 

paige sighs, this was way harder than she wanted it to be. “no…i –– i can’t be with you. i’m sorry. i can’t stop thinking about her and –– “

“what?” olivia puts her hand on paige’s arm but the blonde just shakes it off. “we can work through it…”

“no..i love her.”

FROM: SEAN

I bet you miss tina, huh? 

TO: SEAN

you’re awful

so very awful

FROM: SEAN

I know

I’m sorry

I’ll buy you lunch?

TO: SEAN

forgiven

FROM: SEAN

she hasn’t been home at all

TO: SEAN

nah she’s too busy with olivia

FROM: SEAN

Booooooo

TO: SEAN

exactly

FROM: SEAN

Do you want me to come over later?

TO: SEAN

no

it’s okay

i need to get my shit together 😭

you ended things off with ellie before they even really started, you didn’t wanna use her as a rebound. she understood, she wished you the best in your departure. now, you were just laying in bed. contemplating life. 

then there’s a knock on the door that makes you pause and drop your phone. who the hell –– ? 

you walk to the door, checking the peephole and freezing when you see her. you open the door, staring at her in shock. 

“hi…” paige looks nervous. very nervous.

“what are you doing here?” you scoff. “things didn’t work out with olivia?”

“no, actually…it was great.” paige shifts awkwardly on her heels. “she’s been great. we haven’t argued, she apologized for all the shit we put each other through. she even asked me to be her girlfriend.”

you blink up at her in confusion. that’s everything paige wanted from her. everything. “so what’s the problem?”

“she…” paige shakes her head, biting her lip and shoving her hands into the pockets of her hoodies. she looks so vulnerable. so desperate, guilty, and shameful. it makes your palms sweat. you almost don’t want her to answer your question, you almost shut the door in her face just to calm your rapidly beating heart. but you don’t. you can’t. 

“she isn’t you.”

[hardly-an-escape]

Square: C3 - Clairvoyance

Title: "can you scare me up a little bit of love?"

Rating: G

Ship: Dream/Hob

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Additional Tags: pre-relationship, Halloween, Hob Gadling's birthday

Summary: Before their friendship ever develops into something more, Dream attends a Halloween party at the New Inn and learns something new about Hob.

Link to AO3.

kind of shoehorning this in but heck it we ball!!! @dreamlingbingo

Monday, October 31, 2022

Calling all devils, demons, imps, sprites, and spectres to The New Inn for a HALLOWEEN SPOOKTACULAR Monday October 31st 4:00-9:00 PM Snacks! Games! No cover and one free drink ticket per attendee! Come in costume or come as you are! It’ll be… A HELL OF A PARTY!!

Hob had had a soft spot for Halloween for years. Always loved a good scary story, he had, and nowadays? The creativity and pure talent people put into their costumes and their horror movie marathons? It beats the hell out of carving faces in turnips and decking yourself out in a flour sack. And he couldn’t deny that his hedonist heart loved the lack of inhibitions that went hand in hand with costumes, sweets, and a little bit of booze. He may have had six centuries’ worth of practice at enjoying life, but a little help never hurt.

So he’d papered his little neck of the woods with posters, stuck them on the bulletin boards around campus – even put an announcement up on the New Inn Instagram account one of his young bartenders had convinced him to start. It had all been up for a couple weeks, but on the day of Hob was still gratified to see how many people had turned up for his Halloween do.

No matter how old you got, it was still nice when people wanted to come to your parties.

He’d even told his stranger about it, when Dream (and yes, the name felt like its own kind of gift) had popped up unexpectedly one evening in late September. He hadn’t gotten around to printing the posters yet, but he was already full of plans for the hellishly-themed decorations. Dream had listened to his descriptions with a little smirk that Hob was beginning to categorize as “sarcastic but fond (?)” in his private lexicon of Dream’s expressions.

That is not what Hell is like, Dream had said matter-of-factly.

Oh, and I suppose you’d know? Hob had responded teasingly, and of course Dream had said nothing, just sat there with the same little smirk and a disconcertingly knowing look in his eyes.

You’re welcome to come, if you’d like! Hob had said, brightly. If Halloween parties are even a thing you do.

I have been known to attend parties, Dream had said. Albeit never one for Halloween.

Well… come by if you want to try one out! Hob had said. He’d wanted to say more. He’d wanted to say Please come and I want you to be there and I want every moment with you I can possibly scrape out of this long life. But he’d managed to avoid it.

It was Monday night, the Inn was full, the cider was flowing, and Hob was happy. The decorations had turned out rather nicely, he thought: lots of big black candles, a real skeleton in the corner courtesy of the biology department, a few red lightbulbs scattered about, and of course a good spooky playlist. Behind the bar, lifelike plastic models of giant cockroaches and trilobites were taped up on the mirror. In the low lighting he hoped they appeared to be scuttling.

Hob was quite pleased with his costume, as well. He’d gone with a classic vampire look – slicked back hair, black embroidered waistcoat, a big cloak (the real deal, his from the 1890s, thank you very much), and of course some ostentatious costume jewelry. He was back by the bar with some of his colleagues, most of whom were dressed as various superheroes, when the bell on the front door tinkled.

Hob looked up reflexively at the sound and almost swallowed his tongue. Dream was standing in the door and he looked… he looked…

He looked fantastic. And bloody terrifying.

His hair was even wilder than normal, as if he’d been standing in a wind tunnel, and his face looked somehow paler and more gaunt, if that were even possible. He was dressed in all black, as per usual, but – different. Almost alien. His leather tunic looked stiff and structured, like it was holding something at bay, with a high collar and long sleeves that reached almost to his knuckles. It came down to a point at Dream’s narrow hips, and from under the edge of the leather flowed a kind of two-tiered skirt that pooled on the floor and looked like it was moving on its own – although perhaps that was just a trick of the moody lighting.

Under his arm was some kind of… helmet, Hob supposed, was the only word. It, too, looked strange and alien – all rivets and leather and… was that a spinal column hanging down? Dream cradled it as though it was a precious thing, and also as though it might explode at any moment. The glassy eyes gleamed red.

Hob saw all this in the second it took for the door to swing closed behind Dream, who stood, poised, looking slightly unsure what to do next.

“Who’s that then, Robbie?” asked Lidia from the English department. “He’s got a wicked-looking costume. Friend of yours?” But her question was directed at Hob’s back as he wound his way through the crowd to Dream.

“You’re here! I didn’t think you’d actually come, to be honest,” Hob said with a tentative smile.

“I have recently been persuaded that it is wise for me to spend more time among the humans whom I serve,” said Dream. “This seemed like an appropriate opportunity.”

“I’m so glad.” The words slipped out before Hob could stop them.

There was a heartbeat’s worth of awkward silence.

“Right. Well. D’you want to come over and meet some of my colleagues? They’re a good lot.”

Dream inclined his head in a gesture of assent and Hob ushered him across the room, one hand hovering an inch or so over Dream’s shoulder blade.

“Er, how should I introduce you?” he asked quietly as they navigated the crowd. “Only I think ‘Dream’ might raise a few eyebrows. Dunno if that matters.”

“I am the Prince of Stories. The Ruler of Dreams and Nightmares,” said Dream, somehow enunciating every capital letter. “But your colleagues may call me Morpheus.”

“Righto,” said Hob as they rejoined the professorial circle. “Everyone, this is Morpheus. Morpheus, this is everyone. Lidia, Michael, Phil, Christo, What’s-His-Face, the French one… pause for jeers…” His colleagues obligingly jeered. “Now, who wants a drink?”

His hand descended the final half-inch to rest briefly on Dream’s shoulder. The Inn was full, the cider was flowing, and Hob was happy. His friend was there.

“So, how come we’ve never seen you around, Morpheus?” asked Lidia. “How do you know Robbie?”

“We met in a pub,” Dream said. “A long time ago. My sister introduced us.”

“Morpheus is maybe my oldest friend in the world,” said Hob. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Then why’ve we never met him before?” pressed Lidia, the ever-inquisitive.

“My work keeps me exceptionally busy,” said Dream.

“Oh? What is it that you do?” asked Michael.

“Lord, who wants to talk about work?” exclaimed Hob. “It’s Halloween, for Christ’s sake. Go bob for apples or something, leave off.”

It was very strange, watching Dream of the Endless circulate through a normal human party. The fact that it was Halloween actually helped, reflected Hob; somehow, seeing Dream lean down to listen to tiny Professor Hathaway as she chattered about the Pre-Raphaelites was easier to swallow when said professor was wearing a witch hat and drinking punch out of a goblet. Dream wandering through the costumed crowd with his outlandish helmet under his arm and a cup in his hand made far more sense than Dream in normal clothes on a normal night in the pub ever could.

Hob watched him, and wondered idly what parties were like in Dream’s realm; he imagined them weirder, and far more grand, perhaps with dragons in the rafters and other fae beings waltzing through enormous ballrooms. Dream had mentioned, in passing, a throne room and a vast library, a castle which Hob’s imagination populated with fairy tale creatures, ogres and dryads and talking animals.

But it was hard to believe anything he could imagine would be better than this. All his favorite people – even his old stranger – in his cozy pub, on a special day.

Around 8:30 those who had to teach the next morning began to take their leave. Hob retrieved his big umbrella from behind the bar and escorted Professor Hathaway into her waiting taxi.

“That young Morpheus of yours showed quite an astonishing understanding of the work of John Everett Millais,” she said as they walked down the front path. “You must bring him round again, Robert. I have a few books he might be interested in borrowing.”

“He’s not my Morpheus, Professor,” said Hob. “And he’s not exactly young, he’s older than I am. But I’ll tell him you enjoyed his company.”

“Tch. He may not be yours, but I rather think you’re already his, aren’t you?” she said knowingly. Hob grimaced.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re far too insightful for your own good?” he asked extremely courteously as he handed her into the backseat and closed the car door. Professor Hathaway waved a birdlike hand cheerily through the window as the taxi pulled away.

Hob paused for a moment in the drizzling darkness. The light rain tapped on his umbrella and the warm light streamed out of the front windows of the New Inn. He shivered slightly and drew his cloak a little more tightly around his shoulders. The night was chill, and if it weren’t for the cars parked on the side of the street, Hob felt as though he might have been transported back in time. Professor Hathaway’s parting words rolled around inside his head like a snowball.

I rather think you’re already his, aren’t you?

How had she known – what clairvoyant spirit had possessed her? How had she seen, in just a few hours, what it had taken Hob decades (if not centuries) to admit to himself?

Because he was Dream’s. He was, and had been for a long time, and he’s pretty sure he hadn’t realized just how far gone he was until Dream had walked through the front door three months ago and Hob had released a breath he’d been holding for thirty-three years.

He shivered again. Time to go inside.

Hob got caught up in farewells to several more colleagues before he found Dream again, perched on a barstool and looking like a great black bird. His weird helmet rested on the corner of the bar.

“Well? What did you think of your first Halloween party?” he asked, sliding onto the stool next to him.

Dream paused before answering.

“I found it more illuminating than I expected,” he said. “The people here are… contented. Uninhibited, but not to an extreme. You have created a comfortable space here. I commend you.”

“Thank you,” said Hob, touched. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

“You are welcome,” said Dream. “However, I admit I am slightly confused about some of the costumes. Yours, for example. Are you… dressed up as me?”

He sounded almost uncertain, and Hob couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.

“No, no. No fear, my friend, I’m just a regular old vampire. I suppose it was this that made you ask?” He touched the large red fake jewel that was nestled in the collar of his black shirt.

Dream nodded.

“Saw it in the shop while I was looking for plastic fangs,” Hob chuckled. “I can’t lie, it did remind me a bit of you. But then, after Dracula was published I spent a good few years thinking you might actually be a vampire as well. So it seemed fitting.”

“I see.”

Hob waved to Lidia and Christo as they ducked out the front door into the night, then turned back to Dream. “Listen,” he said, “there’s one more thing I want to do tonight, after all the punters clear out. Do you… would you mind sticking around? Just a bit longer?”

“I will, if you so desire.”

“Great!” said Hob. And if his voice was just a trifle too enthusiastic, well, that was between him and the skeleton behind the bar. “Give me half an hour to get last call sorted and we’ll go upstairs.”

Eventually they made their way upstairs together to Hob’s flat; Hob loose from cider and contentment and Dream as upright and straight-backed as ever. Hob kicked his shoes off and hung his cloak on the rack by the door.

“Can’t believe I used to dress like this all the time,” he muttered, loosening his cravat. “All these stiff bloody buttons.”

Dream was perusing the bookshelves, which was typically his first stop whenever he happened to be in the flat; Hob supposed the Prince of Stories must have a natural affinity for the written word in its infinite variety. Hob slipped into the kitchen and came out bearing a small cake with a little candle stuck in it, which he laid out on the coffee table.

“This is what I wanted to do,” he said, gesturing for Dream to sit and digging a lighter out of his pocket. Dream deposited himself gracefully on Hob’s couch and placed his eerie helmet on the cushion beside him. “It’s… ah, it’s my birthday, actually. My real birthday.”

“All Hallows’ Eve was the day of your birth?” asked Dream, intrigued.

“Well, I don’t know exactly,” said Hob, lighting the candle. “Calendar was a bit squiffy back then. But I know it was after the main harvest and sometime around Allhallowtide, because I remember hearing stories about the martyrs in church when I was just a lad and thinking how that was a bit of a downer, as far as birthday celebrations went.”

“In that case, I wish you a happy birthday,” Dream said. “And how old are you now? If it is not impolite to ask.”

“That’s the best part,” Hob said with a grin. “When I met you in the summer of 1389, I was about to turn 33. So in Anno Domini 2022, that makes me…”

“Six hundred and sixty six,” said Dream dryly.

“Yeah! The number of the Beast! That’s a milestone birthday if I ever heard of one. Especially now, when I know that apparently, Hell and the Devil are real.” He laughed quietly, staring into the candle for a moment. “You know, most of the people I knew growing up didn’t even make it to sixty. My father didn’t. Those blokes I was with in the White Horse when I met you – none of them did. Sometimes I wonder what they’d think of what the world has become. What they’d think of me, if they could see me now.”

There was a long moment of meditative silence, and then Hob blew the candle out.

“Are you not supposed to make a wish?” asked Dream, and Hob thought he must be imagining the teasing note in his voice.

“Do you know,” he said. “I can’t think of a single thing I would wish for that I don’t already have.”

“Is that so?”

Hob made a show of deep thought.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “It is. Now, do you want half this cake or should I eat the whole thing myself?”

read on AO3 >>>

fun fact, this is one of the very first fics I ever started in this fandom – over two years ago! it was originally inspired by this post by @littledreamling

[lemonlover1110]

Please please please write an angst of doctor nanami cheating on reader with a random nurse

Pairing: Kento Nanami x gn!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Cheating

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

*slowly working on requests! They're still closed so don't send anything in

Your husband often works long hours, but as an ER doctor it was expected. The day you started dating Kento, he made it very clear that he works a lot. He’s called in unexpectedly, and while it might seem like he has the day off, he could be called in. You were more than okay with it.

You often feel lonely while Kento works, especially at night. In the beginning you didn’t mind it but you grow lonelier each day. You wonder if you’ve made the right decision by getting married to him. You weren’t made to be so lonely– But whenever you’re thinking of leaving and starting over, he’s off for a day or two, and he reminds you why you’re with him.

He’s so sweet when he’s back around. He gets you flowers, does all the chores that you hate (because he knows that you hate it and he wants to keep you happy), he watches a movie that you like even if he wants to watch something else, and he cooks your favorite food. He’s so affectionate, so loving. He wants you to know that you’re his perfect wife. 

Of course you believe it, why wouldn’t you? Kento has only given you reasons to trust him. You believe his every word, trying to avoid thinking about any thought that makes you doubt your husband. 

He’s called in on your anniversary. He had the day off but things didn’t go your way. However, you had a backup plan because you had an idea this would happen. He’s working now more than ever so of course you had a backup plan.

You wear your pretty little dress, holding a bag with Kento’s favorite food. You also have a box of his favorite chocolate, and a small gift. You wander into the hospital, and the staff already  knows you well so you don’t have an issue getting through.

Majority of the staff knows your plan since you called around. You’re simply just having a romantic dinner– Well as romantic as it can be in a hospital break room. You’re smiling, walking confidently through the hospital hallways. You’re right on Kento’s break, and everyone else assured you that he’d be alone.

When you open the break room’s door, you see that you’ve been lied to. Your heart drops and shatters into a million pieces, the bag that’s in your hand slipping away and falling to the ground. Your eyes widen and they fill with tears. You can’t believe the sight in front of you, your husband’s lips on another woman, and by the looks of it, it wasn’t going to stop with kissing.

You freeze in time, watching your loving husband with someone else. You’re simply shocked. Kento wouldn’t do this to you… Not him. That can’t be your husband. Your hands are shaking, your heart feeling as if it’s about to beat out of your chest. The tears finally begin to spill, and there’s a lump in your throat that holds back a sob. 

No– Kento Nanami wouldn’t. Two other doctors must’ve gotten confused because your husband would never do this to you. You wipe the tears and you swallow the lump in your throat, shaking your head. It’s clearly not your husband. You clear your throat, “Sorry, I must’ve–”

He pulls away, alert. You see his face, and your heart breaks all over again. Even if you try to delude yourself, it won’t work. The woman is also staring at you but you aren’t all too focused on her; you don’t care about her. 

He yells out your name as you turn on your heel and begin to walk away. He’s trying to run after you, but you’re walking as fast as you can. 

“Please! Let me explain!” He yells and you try to block out his voice but it’s hard when he sounds so desperate. He does eventually catch up to you, grabbing your arm. You try to break free from his grasp but it’s too strong. You refuse to look at him, wanting to keep hidden the tears that stream down your face. “Honey, let’s talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Kento.” You try to sound as normal as you can even when your voice threatens to break. He still refuses to let go. “Let go of me, I never want to see you again.”

“Can we just talk please? Privately?” He asks, and you take a moment to think. He’s not going to let you go so easily, even if you want to leave. You’ll make it fast. You finally turn to look at him, and while you try to act tough, it’s impossible when you look at his face. The man that you love to the moon and back betrayed you. He’s someone that you wanted to grow old with, to have children with. You gave him your all, however, that doesn’t seem to be enough for him.

“On our anniversary? Really?” You respond, and it feels as if his voice has been taken from him. You wipe your tears before crossing your arms. You have to look away from him. “I thought you’d never do this to me, Kento. I really thought you were the one.”

He bites down his lip, he really doesn’t know what to say. For a minute you stand in complete and utter silence.

“Are you going to say anything?” You ask, and he’s scrambling for words. He comes up with nothing. You end up nodding before walking away. You hear him again,

“Honey, wait!” 

Just this time, he doesn’t run after you.

[wri0thesley]

the perfect date - mahito x reader (3.8k)

there are a couple of drawbacks to being with a curse, romantically speaking. mahito, though, would like to remind you . . . there are also some benefits.

cw: not sfw. reader is afab, but no gendered pronouns are used. mahito's transformative powers are used (tongue, shifting genital size). oral (reader receiving), edging. the softest mahito i can possibly write, but there's still . . . an edge to him! pet names including 'cutie' and 'darling'.

this was a commissioned work.

Nights like this, you can almost forget that what you and Mahito have isn’t normal.

Mahito sits beside you on your sofa, his body curled about you like a cat. Arms wrapped about your waist, head lolling against your shoulder, so close that you can see every stitch that decorates his body, smell his peculiar springtime-and-sweet-rot scent every time you breathe in. It is not an entirely unpleasant scent - and it’s one that you relax into, that makes you feel like you’re at home. 

The television is blaring some choice of movie that Mahito had picked out from your collection - he’s always fascinated by your tastes, prodding and poking you to explain why you have this one, what do you like about it, won’t you sit and watch it with him--? 

You, of course, are helpless to resist doing anything the curse asks of you. 

Tonight’s choice is a romantic thriller. There’s some plot about a secret document and an FBI agent and star-crossed lovers on the wrong sides of a dispute; but you’ve reached your own favourite part of the movie by now. The two lovers are taking a stroll through a beachside amusement park - one of those tacky things that’s all painted striped sidings and romantic carnival games. One of the lovers wins a small stuffed animal in a shooting game booth, only for their partner to win the jackpot, a huge and luridly pastel bunny clasped between them. They share a pink cotton candy in the shape of a heart, ride a Tunnel of Love, share a kiss at the very top of a ferris wheel--

And quite against your will, quite unexpectedly, as you watch this show of romantic affection - your heart gives a sickening lurch in your chest. 

You have always wanted that, too. 

You have watched this movie plenty of times and imagined yourself on this date; fluttering your lashes demurely at the attendant at the Tunnel of Love, revelling in the fond glances of passers-by as you and your beloved take a photograph of you with the giant bear or rabbit or panda they won for you. You have daydreamed about romance and dates and showing off your beau to everyone you meet--

And though you are not lonely, for nobody who had Mahito as a paramour could ever feel that way . . . there is a soft little empty ache inside of you that reminds you that what you have is not quite the fairytale of your dreams. 

“Hey,” Mahito’s voice is pouty as he shifts against you, silken silver hair brushing your arm. He gives you a poke that just manages to avoid being painful. “You’re not paying attention. What are you thinking about?”

You start guiltily and look at him. Curious bicoloured eyes stare up at you; he doesn’t look angry. He seems more amused. Your little mortal foibles are a source of endless fascination for him. 

“I was watching the movie,” you say to him, which isn’t entirely true. And then you say; “I was thinking about going on dates.”

And that one is entirely true. 

There are problems with the romantic relationship you share with Mahito. Some of them are more obvious than others; at his very core, he is not really human, and you do not know how much he feels human emotions. He has an intense fondness and affection for you, yes - but you know, too, that he is capable of great hatred in the name of his boundless curiosity and the purposes which formed him. Whenever he tells you about his experiments, though, and you show a brief flare of disquiet . . . Mahito giggles and pokes your cheeks and bestows cool kisses all over your face, decrying passionately;

“Not you, cutie. Not ever you. You’re my favourite!”

That should bother you more, you think - and yet, as you watch this romance unfold on screen and these two actors play-act at the perfect date . . . you find that the thing that makes you ache most about being with Mahito is not what he might do, not what he has done, not even the things he tells you he’s going to do to mortals who do not have as much of his favour and adoration as you do . . . but that you will never get this brand of hokey romance. 

It’s rare enough that you have the ability to see him - if you were to take him to a funfair like this one, you would surely just look like one person wandering around, all alone. How sad you would seem on the Tunnel of Love, on a single boat with no lover to share it with - nobody would give you admiring looks or whisper behind their hands what a cute couple you and Mahito make. 

And it is not just the date. 

There will never be pictures all over your house of Mahito and you. You’re not even sure he would show up in the photographs, if you tried to take them. There will be no wedding, no holidays, no official moving in day (Mahito does live with you, but that was rather more like a cat choosing its owner, making itself at home with no formal invitation). You will never be able to introduce him to your friends and family, nor even talk about him to them, lest they want to meet him and then discover the truth of what he is (that is, if they could even see him). 

You have known all of this in the back of your mind. You’ve pushed it back watching gory horror movies and fantasy and science fiction, giving Mahito copies of your favourite books to read - but suddenly now, faced with this movie and the simplicity of ‘going on a date with somebody you care about’ . . . it has all come crashing to the forefront, and you feel an empty ache of something you will never truly have. 

“I’ll go on a date with you!” Mahito chirps it easily. Helplessly, you flutter your hands around, trying to grasp for the right words. “Mmm, I could take you to the place I used to live? Ah, or the movie theatre? We might have to try a late-night showing, but . . .”

“That’s not it,” you say, and you realise in frustration that your voice cracks. Mahito stiffens at the emotion in your voice - and then moves, getting onto his knees, gathering the long lithe limbs of his body together so that he can take your chin in his hand and force you to look at him. “I just . . . it’s all so romantic, you know? A-and we . . . we won’t get anything like that--”

His face is quizzical; eyes wide, one eyebrow cocked, mouth pursed in thought. He’s beautiful even like that - the stitches that bisect his face serving to give him a kind of inhuman beauty that makes your heart drum against your ribcage. 

“And I want to!” You continue, suddenly worried that he’ll take your frustration at the situation as frustration about him. “I want to show you off! I want to make my friends jealous and d-do all those normal couple things--”

Realisation dawns over his face. 

“Oh,” he says. And then, this time, a smile splitting his face like the cat that has gotten the cream; “Oh. Darling. Oh.”

You squirm under his gaze, your face heating up; and a familiar feeling low in your stomach and between your thighs that Mahito’s pleased purr has drawn out. 

Before you can breathe, Mahito has manoeuvred you into the exact position he wants you in - and you are laid out on your own couch with the curse atop of you, straddling your waist. One hand reaches down to cup your cheek, his thumb pressing into the soft skin there. He lowers his face until it’s so close you can see your own reflection in his eyes. 

“Cutie,” he breathes, the word full of intent. “You’re right in that I can’t give you that kind of thing . . . But don’t you think human romance can be so boring? So predictable?” He rolls the words around in his mouth, savouring them, his mouth turning up at the corners in a smile that’s almost lascivious. “Do you need me to remind you of all of the benefits of having something like me as a lover?” 

Your pulse rabbits, and you know that Mahito can surely sense how it quickens - can probably smell the way your desire has spiked in the air, can certainly see how your eyes have gone dark and wide, the way that your breath escapes your parted lips. 

He leans down and kisses you, hard; his mouth cool against yours, his teeth automatically nipping at your bottom lip. Your own mouth falls open in a silent surrender, and Mahito’s tongue greedily brushes over your own. That spot just behind your front teeth, on the roof of your mouth . . . and you realise with a start that Mahito’s tongue isn’t quite human.

He pulls back with a satisfied grin, humming low in the back of his throat - and you see a flash of that inhuman tongue he has crafted, longer and thicker than any mortal tongue has ever been. 

“What kind of things do you think I could do with this?” He asks you, letting it loll out a little. The expression should by rights look silly; but on Mahito it looks dangerous and horribly attractive all at once. You feel your cheeks go hot, your body squirm beneath him. “Aww! You’re too shy to tell me?”

He laughs, and like liquid, he slides himself off of you and onto his knees on the floor. Strong, long fingers tug at your body, moving you like a doll, until you are sitting in front of him and he is between your legs, your back against the sofa cushions. Seeing Mahito’s curious eyes peering at you from there, you know exactly what kind of thing he has in mind, and your stomach twists in pleasurable anticipation. 

“Let’s get these off of you,” he says, tugging at your clothes. “So impractical! You should just not bother with clothes when we’re alone.” 

Your bottoms and underwear slip easily from your hips and thighs - ignored and tossed aside by Mahito, who has a one-track mind when he has something he has set his sights on. And what he has currently set his sights on is what lies between your legs. He nudges his cheek against your thigh, an impatient order for you to spread - and who are you to deny him?

“Oh!” He exclaims in glee, as you shyly part them and he sees your sex, glistening wet for him. “Mmm, you’re excited for this too?” That too-big tongue is peeking out from between his lips, and as you look at it the tip changes just a little; becomes somewhat more bulbous, more like the head of a cock-- “Don’t be getting all nervous on me, now!” 

You let out a soft noise of surprise as Mahito dives between your legs with no more fanfare than that. 

Mahito does all things with enthusiasm, whether you’re prepared for them or not; and you are not prepared for the way one of your thighs is easily slung over his muscular shoulder, or the peculiar feeling of the tongue he has transfigured as it laps down your heated core in one long, quick movement. Mahito moans in pleasure at the way your thighs tense, the taste of you spilling over his lips - pauses after his lick to whisper;

“I could eat you alive, you taste so sweet--”

And then turns back to the task at hand with gleeful abandon. 

Your fingers find purchase on the edge of the sofa cushion, your other hand going almost automatically to tangle in Mahito’s silky silvery locks. He doesn’t seem to care about how they tug on his hair a bit; instead, he merely moans into your sex and redoubles his efforts. 

Messily, he laps and licks at you - that inhuman tongue covers more of your folds than should be possible, almost as if he wants to make good on the promise to eat you alive. Every so often, you feel the dangerous brush of teeth against your most sensitive parts; but Mahito doesn’t let it be any more than a hint, the slightest graze. He’s far too busy drinking you in like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. 

It’s more rigid than a human tongue should be, too; when it teases at your entrance, drawing circles around it, your hips jerk up towards it in surprise from how much it feels like a finger or something even bigger. Mahito lets out a huff of laughter, thrusts it in just a few scant centimetres - and pulls back, leaving your channel aching and tingling with desire to be filled with something for far longer than he let you.

He moves his attentions to your clit instead; toying with the bud, rolling it with his tongue, flickering the tip against the swollen little bud until you are tugging harder at his hair, whining softly, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. He never gives quite enough pressure to let you come. Instead, the way he’s playing with you has little bubbles of arousal coursing through your veins, letting you teeter on the very edge, your climax almost almost in view--

Before he pulls back, lavishes wet kisses on your thighs instead, leaving you trembling on the edge of an orgasm that he isn’t yet ready to let you fall head-first into. 

“M-Mahito . . .” You manage to whine out, though you feel breathless and light-headed. “D-don’t tease me--” 

He stops and looks up at you from between your legs; you’re struck by how beautiful he is, even with your own slick making his mouth and chin shiny. His eyes are lit bright, lips smiling, silver hair all ruffled. There’s something inhuman in him, yes - but like this, it’s a beautiful inhumanity, like an angel. A smirk curls his mouth.

“But you’re so cute when I do!”

He ducks his head down again, his tongue back to its incessant working over of your sex. Your body thrums with tension that has not been allowed to come to a head; you whimper out your desire to be allowed more, but Mahito does not seem to care. You’re clearly just too cute to him utterly at his mercy; trembling and sweating and hoping that he’ll take a little pity on you. 

He alternates between fucking shallowly into you with his inhuman tongue (not deep enough, never deep enough), and playing with your clit. Circling it, suckling on it, treating your spread thighs like a dessert buffet to be sampled and toyed with. You want him to eat his fill. The longer he spends edging you, teasing you, not letting you come . . . The hazier you begin to feel. 

Your breath comes in short sharp little gasps, your chest heaving. You think you must be on fire. 

��M-Mahito . . . ‘hito . . .” You’re practically hiccuping out the words. Your voice is a slurred mess of a thing. “Need to . . . Please . . . ‘m sorry, you’re . . .”

His mouth separates from you. A lewd gossamer strand of your arousal clings to the corner of his mouth, connecting your sex and his lips. 

“Poor thing,” he coos. “You really need it, don’t you? You need me to give you what you want?”

He lets the question stretch in the air until you can get your tongue around the question. 

“Yes,” you manage to moan out, your voice soft and small and pathetic. “Mahito . . . please make me come--”

His teeth glint bright in the light of the living room, and then he is diligently bent between your legs again, and his lips fasten around the pearl of your clit. 

This time, he doesn’t pull back as the wave crests the shore. This time, Mahito keeps his mouth around it; keeps sucking and licking, keeps flicking the tip of his tongue over it, until the tide crashes over you and you think that you might black out from the sheer force of the pleasure finally being allowed to reach its zenith. 

You’re crackling. Floating on air. A slick gush of more of your arousal paints Mahito’s face, your toes curling, your mouth slack and wide open, as the orgasm does not so much ‘wash’ over you as it drowns you, fills every one of your senses with nothing but its inescapable warmth and comfort and rapture.

Mahito’s eyes look up at you from between your legs, drinking in the way that your satisfaction changes the taut lines of your face and body. He mouths something that you don’t hear, because of the roar of contentment that drowns out everything but the pools of heat that are supposed to be your body. 

(If you didn’t know better, you’d almost say . . . that the shape of his lips almost seemed like he murmured ‘perfect’).

He stands and you are boneless to do anything but watch him, dazed from the release he’s finally allowed you to feel. He shrugs off his shirt without a care in the world, pushing his sweatpants down - he wears no underwear, and you watch as his body moves and ripples and suddenly between his toned thighs where there once was nothing, is a cock standing hard to attention with pearly beads of precome gathering on the head.

“Not too big?” He coos at you, as he curls his hands beneath your knees and moves your position so that you’re entirely at his mercy once more, hard cock nudging between the lips of your sex. You look up at him, panting. You can’t make any noises other than a whine, canting your hips forward in a motion that is clearly meant to read ‘get on with it and fuck me’. He laughs. “Alright, cutie! We’ll see what you can take when I’m inside of you, hmm?” 

Your body is entirely willing as Mahito thrusts and his cock sinks as deep into you as it can go, his pelvis rubbing against your swollen clit as he bottoms out. He lets out a groan of satisfaction deep and low that whispers pleasurably down your spine. The position you’re in doesn’t quite let you cling to Mahito, so instead you grip the cushions and prepare to be fucked. 

Not that you have any complaints about that. 

Mahito doesn’t take his time with this, either; he immediately slides into a rhythm that, had you not been wet from the way he’d lavished you with his tongue and dreamy from your orgasm, would almost be painful. Instead, it veers on almost-too-much-but-not-quite - Mahito’s hips sliding backwards and forwards, the shaft of his cock sliding in and out with a delicious wet friction that makes goosebumps rise over your bare skin. 

You don’t realise it until you hear it, but you’re moaning with every thrust.

“Oh, you like this?” Mahito murmurs, smiling down at you. There’s a wicked glint in his eyes. “Mm . . . I think this might be better if I was a little thicker, don’t you?”

You feel the way his cock shifts inside of you - the way that the slick tunnel of your sex constricts around the thing inside of it, thicker than it was before, bigger. You can hear your heart beating in your ears. It’s even too much for Mahito - his pace stutters, his eyes rolling back into his head and a guttural groan of pleasure falling from his lips. 

“I--I wouldn’t need to make you tighter,” he says, his voice dreamy. “You fit like a glove--”

You lose sense of time for a while after that. 

There is only the sensation of Mahito inside of you, your heart beating in your chest, Mahito’s breath and yours intermingling. The way that his cock flexes inside of you, expanding by the tiniest of increments until you feel so full you could burst, deeper and wider and more than you’ve ever taken before. Mahito whispers soft praise to you, telling you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him . . .

And making you shudder and shake, filling you up, rubbing himself against you. You moan and whine and pant and thrust your hips - skin slapping against skin, the hot tight knot of pleasure inside of you threatening to unravel with every slight movement. 

“You’re going to come again for me,” Mahito says to you, when you feel stretched to the very limit - when he is barely fucking into you any more, because he’s filled you up so well that the pleasure comes from the feel of him and not from the movement. “Aren’t you? Aren’t you?” A hand drops your knee; slips between your legs to roughly draw jagged circles over your clit.

Your moan seems to hover in the air, a shimmering moment - this one final movement is too much. You see stars as the knot breaks and heat flows through your body like the blood in your veins, your fingers and toes tingling, your sex pulsing about Mahito’s cock.

It’s too much for him too. With a cry of your name, Mahito’s hips stutter once, twice, and then the cock inside of you pulses in tandem with your body and you feel something thick and cool coat your insides, ropes of Mahito’s release claiming your body as his (as if he needed to)--

While you’re still half-delirious with the aftershocks of your release, he changes his cock just enough to slide out of you. His come and your own wetness have probably left a stain on the sofa, but you cannot bring yourself to care right there and then.

And neither can he.

Mahito sighs in pleasure, collapsing on top of you in a way that somehow manages to be elegant. Your breath comes in soft pants, between your thighs still aching a little from the way Mahito had played with size and shape inside of you, stretching you out. He’s like a cat once more with the way he immediately makes your hapless body his home, curling his head upon your shoulders and his arms around you, slotting himself into your lap. 

“Don’t you think that’s so much more pleasurable than anything a normal lover could do?” He asks you, a little smug. He nuzzles his face against you affectionately, always tactile, always wanting to touch you, always fascinated and adoring. 

“. . . Yes,” you admit to him, breathlessly. Your throat still feels a touch dry from the pleasured noises that Mahito had wrung from you. “You’re better than any human could ever be.”

Mahito laughs wild and bright, his eyes flashing in the light. He reaches up and pulls you into another messy kiss; hand wrapping around the back of your neck, tongues and teeth clashing, claiming ownership of you and giving you parts of himself in one fell swoop. 

“You’re better than any other human will ever be,” he tells you, perfectly sincerely. “The only one I could ever - will ever - want. And I want you forever.” 

You do not know if Mahito is really capable of love, in the way that you love him. A creature made from human’s hatred will perhaps never know love in that sense of the word. But for Mahito--

That is simply how he would say ‘I love you’, in his own peculiar way. 

[lightlycareless]

naoya would never take you on a disappointing date 😤😤 (pre redemption naoya we are ignoring you)

Hiii!!!!

Omg I've almost forgotten of that horrible date I had. Well, it wasn't horrible, but... disappointing. I've long accepted that if it happens, good, if not, then good too :) I'm too busy with Naoya anyways HAHAHA Anyways, thank you for cheering me up 🥺❤️ I appreciate it a lot!!

Now, your ask made me want to write a little something, just a funny scenario between our favorite couple. A bit sweet too :>

warnings: fluff. highschool au. you and naoya are kinda new in the dating thing, I think. your dad is overprotective hahaha BUT SO ARE YOU REGARDING NAOYA. Though it's subtle here hehe.

Happy reading!

Soon after the two officially become a couple, Naoya and you go on dates as frequently as possible, as much as school allowed it anyways—usually consisting of going out to eat, getting something to drink, watching a movie… just whatever the two felt like.

Up to that point there had never been a conversation of who’d be the one to take care of all expenses when out; however, because of his nature, alongside the teachings of his family, Naoya naturally assigned himself that role.

After all, he was the man in the relationship, the provider. The one that had to take care of his woman—and you… well, you went along with him, because you’d eventually grow tired of insisting otherwise.

Yet, you never went out unprepared, always carrying your own money thanks to your father’s advice:

“It’s good for a woman to have her own money! Regardless of whether her partner is willing to pay for everything; because some men—now, no need to look at me like that pumpkin, I’m not saying Naoya is like that—like to treat dates as transactions, expecting to be repaid just for a meal, if you know what I mean!

So yes, always have your own money in case you need to bail out!”

Thankfully, you never got to use it, mainly because Naoya had long proved to not be that kind of person (he was surprisingly shy with you, how unexpectedly adorable) and because he also didn’t want you to, circling back to the previously detailed points, though that was to change very soon after one misfortunate turn of events…

“What do you mean declined?!” Naoya scowled upon seeing the employee nervously glance back to him to tell him what he already assessed by that dreadful beep coming from the reader for the second time.

“It says—it says there aren’t enough funds—”

“That’s impossible!” He argues, taking out the card from the reader and placing it in once more. “Try again, now!”

“Naoya…” you quietly add, gently tugging at his arm to catch his attention.

“I—I wouldn’t recommend doing so, your card might get blocked—”

“Why does it even matter if it doesn’t have funds anyways?!” Naoya denounces once more, and by this time, you squeeze him slightly harder, finally getting his eyes on you.

“Naoya, it’s fine; let me pay.” You quietly suggest, but that only seemed to irk him even more.

“Are you crazy?! I can’t allow you to pay, I’m your boyfriend!”

“I know, but really, I don’t mind paying; things like these happen, probably an error with the back, so don’t worry, it’s not a big deal…”

“Well, it is to me,”

“Naoya—” you frown. “Please, just let me pay before we… well, we attract more attention.”

And as if pulling his head out of the water, your words finally helped Naoya snap out of his trance, to suddenly remember the company of those present at the café as well as feel their heavy gazes burning holes at his back, ignited by curiosity (if not disapproval) for the way he was behaving, and subsequently, exposing you to that same judgement.

It soon became clear that the longer he remained there, the more vulnerable he’d make you, and such, he quietly relents you the bill, watching how you take out a card and replace it with Naoya’s—with the poor employee letting out a sigh of relief, glad that the situation had finally come to an end when the two eventually leave.

But the issue lingered on Naoya’s mind, for the moment he stepped out of the establishment he was already thinking of ways to repay you for the misstep you were forced to cover; the calls he’d have to make, the people he’d have to scold—

If your gestures allowed him such, stopping him on his tracks by gently pulling his arm and placing a kiss on his cheek—Naoya freezes for a moment, struggling to either succumb to your warmth and forget all about it, or continue sulking about the humiliation he made you go through.

He chose the latter.

“I should’ve done that, you know? Pay for our date.”

“But you always do, it was about time I did it for once—”

“No. Absolutely not.” He insists. “My girlfriend will never spend a dime that isn’t mine.”

“Naoya… while I appreciate your consideration, I can’t help but wonder why are you so opposed to me paying? I don’t mind, really. In fact… I think it’s a way I could repay you for all the things you’ve done for me.”

“Having you by my side is enough compensation, if you must.”

“Well, not enough for me! You do quite a lot already… sometimes I have to assume you’ve gotten into trouble because of all you’ve spent on me.” Surely, must’ve been scolded at least once by one of his relatives. Even if he’s heir to the prestigious Zen’in clan, some limits must be imposed, or he’ll take them to the brink of bankruptcy!

Though Naoya would never confirm your suspicions, nor justify his family’s behavior—it’s not his fault that they don’t know how to treat a woman. If anything, he should be far more demanding with them; did they not want to secure the future of the clan? Because that’s exactly what he was doing!

Taking the necessary steps so he could live out the rest of his life with you in marital bliss…

“I’ll make it up to you for this horrible date; whatever you want, name it and it’s yours.” Naoya proceeds, making promises you had no interest in if their sole purpose was to torment himself, and not pass a genuinely good time with you…

“I won’t go out with you then.” You firmly declare, he gasps.

“What?! What do you mean you won’t go out with me??”

“Because you’re being too harsh on yourself—and I don’t like it when my boyfriend acts that way.” You said.

“But you—I’m trying to make you happy!”

“Then don’t. I don’t want you going out with me out of pity.”

Naoya sighs.

“Alright, I won’t insist anymore. We had enough with this bad date anyways.”

“Bad date? I’m sorry, but that was not a bad date.” You shake your head. “I would know since I’ve had some.”

“Ah, so you’ve dated other people before me?” Naoya raises an eyebrow, you do your best to hold back your laughter, failing soon after.

“If that one guy I went out with during middle school even counts!” you say. “I’m glad I no longer have to look anywhere else—you’ve exceeded all expectations! By far the best boyfriend I’ll ever have!”

“Are you implying you’ll date others after me…?”

“Of course not, silly! Never! Or at least I hope not…” you pout. “I was only teasing, you know…”

“I know.” He chuckles, placing a chaste kiss over your lips, and another, and another—removing that sulking look on your face. “You too are the best girlfriend I’ll ever have. Hopefully wife too…”

“O—Oh, Naoya—Don’t you think that’s too soon??” you fret, placing your hands over your cheeks to cover the heat forming on them.

“I—I was just saying—” Naoya stammers, looking away. “I mean, I don’t—I don’t see anyone else but you by my side.”

“Me too.” You confess. And though you may not openly discuss it, Naoya has long filled the shoes of the groom you’ve always longed for your dream wedding—and father of your children too.

“In time.” He promises, squeezing your hand. You nod, a bright smile on your face.

“In time.”

When do you think Naoya will give you a card, filled with his own money, under the pretense of "making sure you have enough money to cover an emergency?" said emergencies being you wanting something sweet, or something nice you saw at the mall of course lol. (and actual emergencies too oof)

The Zen'in have definitely discussed his unusual extravagant expenses, but Naoya does not care. He'll continue to spend whatever he wants whenever he wants to do it too. As he always has :)

I think what probably got his card declined was his monthly allowance being done... or maybe he forgot to change his card after it expired who knows. Not that it mattered since he eventually got a credit card 🤣

Anyways, I'm living out the fantasy with Naoya. Is it delusional of my part? Maybe. BUT DOES IT MAKE US HAPPY? YES!!!!!

I hope you enjoyed this little thing I wrote hehe. I love imagining scenarios between our two young lovebirds 🥺❤️ kagajkhgajghs all shy and stuff, hard to believe they eventually become big perverts for one another.

Now take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

[ach-sss-no]

someone asked why i loudly asserted that the stewing rabbits bit of lotr is the opposite book vs. movie and i think it is time to move off of the giant reblog chain i'm making

The Premise: Sam, Frodo and Gollum are all doing the opposite of what they are doing in the book in some fashion or another

(first off: in the movie they abandon the stew and don't eat it. the book takes a lot longer with all of this, and they do in fact eat the stew, and I definitely understand the movie couldn't be as expansive with the pacing but it's just. funny to me. they don't eat the stew vs. they do eat the stew, there's your first opposite)

now. THE SCENE: Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit

(Small disclaimer/disclosure: I referenced the script instead of a movie clip for this, so there may be some nuance missed in visuals or whatever but I don't think it would be enough of a difference to matter and hopefully you will soon see why not)

Frodo

Starting with him because this is simplest.

In the movie, Frodo is just sitting there minding his own business when Gollum dumps dead rabbits in his lap. (Then he doesn't interact with the ensuing conversation at all)

In the book he's asleep when Gollum brings the rabbits and does not participate in the scene. Okay, so he's awake vs. asleep. Easy.

(Also, book Frodo didn't witness the conflict between the other two characters and had no opportunity to intervene, which creates an interesting 'what could have been', but I am digressing. We are only 10% of the way in. buckle up)

Sam

In the movie, Sam is passive and reacting. Gollum dumps dead rabbits in Mr. Frodo's lap oh no what do I guess we'll cook them

In the book, Sam is active and orchestrating events.

Sam decides of his own accord that he wants to address their dwindling supplies:

Sam had been giving earnest thought to food as they marched. Now that the despair of the impassable Gate was behind him, he did not feel so inclined as his master to take no thought for their livelihood beyond the end of their errand; [in case you forgot. Earlier on Sam was like 'we won't have enough food for the way back' and frodo essentially responds with 'the way back. oh you sweet summer child'] and anyway it seemed wiser to him to save the waybread of the Elves for worse times ahead.

Note: This is all very good reasoning by Mr. Samwise and an excellent example of why he's so necessary to the quest! Yes, staying alive is step one.

But Where to get food? In both movie and book Sam is taking advantage of his resources (dead rabbits acquired via gollum), but in the book he's way more proactive about it:

An idea struck him and he turned to Gollum. Gollum had just begun to sneak off on his own, and he was crawling away on all fours through the fern. 'Hi! Gollum!' said Sam. 'Where are you going? Hunting? Well see here, old noser, you don't like our food, and I'd not be sorry for a change myself. Your new motto's always ready to help. Could you find anything fit for a hungry hobbit? ' 'Yes, perhaps, yes,' said Gollum. 'Sméagol always helps, if they asks-- if they asks nicely.' 'Right!' said Sam. 'I does ask. And if that isn't nice enough, I begs.'

In this point in the book Sam has now:

Decided of his own accord that he has a problem and that he wants to actively solve it

Arrived at a solution to the problem without any outside help or suggestions

Commanded Gollum to go hunt

In the point in the movie Sam has done:

Nothing

I'm not exaggerating. In the movie the scene hasn't started yet.

In both book and movie, rabbits are acquired a little while later. In the book this is a nonevent because Sam requested and expected rabbits. In the movie, the rabbits unexpectedly appear, and Gollum says they are for the hobbits to eat (Sam doesn't even come up with the idea to eat them on his own!)

They are young. They are tender. They are nice. Yes they are! Eat them! Eat them! [He bites and tears into the raw meat.]

GOLLUM SHOWED HIM HOW TO EAT THEM LIKE A MOTHER CAT.

Anyway, in the movie, we just cut to Sam stewing the rabbits after that.

But in the book, Sam isn't done arranging things:

He thought for a bit, while he took out his knife, cleaned and whetted it, and began to dress the rabbits. He was not going to leave Frodo alone asleep even for a few minutes. 'Now, Gollum,' he said, 'I've another job for you. Go and fill these pans with water, and bring 'em back! '

'Sméagol will fetch water, yes,' said Gollum. 'But what does the hobbit want all that water for? He has drunk, he has washed.' 'Never you mind,' said Sam. `If you can't guess, you'll soon find out. And the sooner you fetch the water, the sooner you'll learn. Don't you damage one of my pans, or I'll carve you into mincemeat.'

So now Sam has:

Decided of his own accord that he has a problem and that he wants to actively solve it

Arrived at a solution to the problem without any outside help or suggestions

Commanded Gollum to go hunt

Lovingly watched Frodo sleep

Collected rabbits after they were provided and begun skinning them

Assigned Gollum to fill his cook-pans

Gollum leaves to do this new errand and Sam starts building a cook fire.

He was just stooping over his fire, shielding it and building it up with heavier wood, when Gollum returned, carrying the pans carefully and grumbling to himself. He set the pans down, and then suddenly saw what Sam was doing. He gave a thin hissing shriek, and seemed to be both frightened and angry. 'Ach! Sss -- no!' he cried. 'No! Silly hobbits, foolish, yes foolish! They mustn't do it!' 'Mustn't do what?' asked Sam in surprise. 'Not make the nassty red tongues,' hissed Gollum. `Fire, fire! It's dangerous, yes it is. It burns, it kills. And it will bring enemies, yes it will.'

Sam has just been given a completely sane and rational reason why a fire is a bad idea (they are in a dangerous area and can't risk attention!) (as well as a reason that is less pertinent- it looks like Gollum is afraid of fire, and he may have sensible reasons to be afraid of fire because it is dangerous, but this is not Sam's problem)

Sam addresses the 'it will bring enemies' thing

'I don't think so,' said Sam. `Don't see why it should, if you don't put wet stuff on it and make a smother. But if it does, it does. I'm going to risk it, anyhow. I'm going to stew these coneys.'

And Sam is like, nah.

Now Gollum gets upset that he's 'ruining good meat' by cooking it

Now Sam de-escalates

Now, now! ' said Sam. 'Each to his own fashion. Our bread chokes you, and raw coney chokes me. If you give me a coney, the coney's mine, see, to cook, if I have a mind. And I have. You needn't watch me. Go and catch another and eat it as you fancy -- somewhere private and out o' my sight. Then you won't see the fire, and I shan't see you, and we'll both be the happier. [He still managed to slip in a 'get out of my sight'] I'll see the fire don't smoke, if that's any comfort to you.'

In the movie he just insults the quality of the meat:

SAM What's to ruin? There's hardly any meat on 'em.

...which I suppose is fair in this alternate universe where the rabbits were just dumped in his lap, unwanted.

Then in the movie they skip to the taters conversation, but in the book, there's more!

Back to the book:

Gollum withdrew grumbling, and crawled into the fern. Sam busied himself with his pans. 'What a hobbit needs with coney,' he said to himself, 'is some herbs and roots, especially taters -- not to mention bread. Herbs we can manage, seemingly.' 'Gollum!' he called softly. 'Third time pays for all. I want some herbs.'

Gollum says no.

'Sméagol'll get into real true hot water, when this water boils, if he don't do as he's asked,' growled Sam. 'Sam'll put his head in it, yes precious. And I'd make him look for turnips and carrots, and taters too, if it was the time o' the year. I'll bet there's all sorts of good things running wild in this country. I'd give a lot for half a dozen taters.'

Now Gollum asks what taters are, gets a cryptic answer, and is offered a kind of food he has just expressed he does not want (cooked food) and again ordered to fetch herbs. Gollum declines.

'You couldn't say no to that.' 'Yes, yes we could. Spoiling nice fish, scorching it. Give me fish now, and keep nassty chips!' 'Oh you're hopeless,' said Sam. 'Go to sleep!'

The movie finally has some of the same words in almost the same place:

SAM PO-TAY-TOES! Boil 'em. Mash 'em. Stick 'em in a stew. Lovely big golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish…. SM�AGOL [i'm not fixing it blah] [Sticks out his tongue in disgust] Pbbbttt!! [so now he's just devolved into making fart noises] SAM Even you couldn't say no to that. [He takes a sip of the stew] SM�AGOL Oh yes we could! Spoil nice fish... [scrambles up close to Sam] Give it to usss rrraw... and wrrriggling! [That line is not in the book. every time i see it quoted i age a year] [Makes sickeningly happy face.] You keep nasty chips. [Hops away] SAM You're hopeless.

The scene here ends in the movie.

In the movie, Sam has:

Watched rabbits be thrown at Frodo

Started cooking them after being all but commanded to eat them

Had some banter with Gollum

Left the scene without eating his stew

Sam is a passive character who is not orchestrating events, but rather reacting to them. A character being passive is not in and of itself a bad thing. I am only pointing it out because it is different from the book and a big change to this specific character (wanted to mention that because some people really don't like passive characters in general, I think they have a place. Frodo is rather passive in this scene but he obviously has a purpose.)

...In the book, Sam stews the rabbits for an hour and then eats the stew with Frodo

Frodo yawned and stretched. 'You should have been resting Sam,' he said. 'And lighting a fire was dangerous in these parts.

Wow! Was it? I feel like someone mentioned that earlier.

'Gollum! ' Sam called and whistled softly. 'Come on! Still time to change your mind. There's some left, if you want to try stewed coney.' There was no answer. 'Oh well, I suppose he's gone off to find something for himself. We'll finish it,' said Sam. [...] We don't see eye to eye, and he's not pleased with Sam, O no precious, not pleased at all.'

Whyever not?

To sum, book!Sam has:

Decided of his own accord that he has a problem and that he wants to actively solve it

Decided he's going to assign Gollum to the problem (This also demonstrates Sam's interpersonal intelligence. He notices what Gollum's capable of and understands intuitively how it can be turned to something industrious and useful) (Sam has made some missteps in other areas which are in the next section)

Commanded Gollum to go hunt

Collected rabbits after they were provided (according to his request), and began skinning them

Watched Frodo sleep

Assigned Gollum to fill his cook-pans, specifically because he does not want to leave Gollum and Frodo alone together, which is sensible

Threatened to carve Gollum into mincemeat, while holding a knife

Watched Frodo sleep and reflected on his poor health

Skinned the rabbits and put them in stew

Been told a cook fire is a bad idea and declined to stop what he's doing. A character being told to stop doing something & continuing with it anyway is another way for that character to show agency.

Asked Gollum to fetch herbs and potatoes (was refused)

Foraged a few herbs himself

Eaten lovely stew (while lamenting that there are no onions in it, and no bowls to put it in ;_;)

Offered Gollum stew long after (hours after) Gollum got angry and left

...all because Sam initially decided he wanted to acquire and cook food, and then took every necessary step to make that happen of his own accord.

Sam is an active character with high agency.

He is also showing more care for Frodo here (watching him while asleep and fretting over his health, lamenting that he somehow made rabbit stew from nothing by using his resources (which do here include another character- people are also resources!) but he can't put it in a nice bowl for mr. frodo- there's just a lot more here, which is natural because prose is a more detail-rich medium. Not all of this would have fit in the movie and I'm not saying it should have.

Even allowing for time, however, I do think there would have been a way to collapse this scene to the needed time requirement and still have Sam in charge of it instead of Gollum.

The scene finally ends on:

Then he noticed a thin spiral of blue-grey, smoke, plain to see as it caught the sunlight, rising from a thicket above him. With a shock he realized that this was the smoke from his little cooking-fire, which he had neglected to put out.

Did anyone foresee this?

Gollum

In the movie, Gollum is foisting a gift on Frodo and forcing social interaction that he doesn't want.

In the book, Gollum wants to go away somewhere so he can eat and is pressed into reluctant manual labor instead

Gollum is a little different from the other two characters in that his personality and motivations are also completely different here. (Where as Sam at least still has the same goals of looking after Frodo and making food.)

The scene is in Sam's POV so what Gollum is thinking and feeling has to be inferred from his actions/words/tone, but he's not exactly subtle.

The movie scene starts off with Gollum turning up with rabbits. He dumps them in Frodo's lap. He makes a spectacle of himself. He starts mauling the corpses.

The book scene starts off with Gollum trying to slip away somewhere to eat in private.

That's another thing. Gollum doesn't demonstratively bite into things Gollum always slips away somewhere to eat in private. Earlier:

It was actually not long before Gollum returned; but he came so quietly that they did not hear him till he stood before them. His fingers and face were soiled with black mud. He was still chewing and slavering. [He didn't bring food back on purpose. He's still chewing because he only has six teeth.] What he was chewing, they did not ask or like to think. 'Worms or beetles or something slimy out of holes,' thought Sam. 'Brr! The nasty creature; the poor wretch! ' Gollum said nothing to them, until he had drunk deeply and washed himself in the stream. Then he came up to them, licking his lips. 'Better now,' he said.

(Emphasis added.. Imagine you just recruited a serial killer to your D&D-party-in-real-life and he silently turns up covered in mud and won't talk to you. It looks like he's been eating bugs. He won't speak. he won't tell you what he's eating.)

Back to the scene in question: Gollum's leaving. Sam flags him down and asks him to hunt.

'Hi! Gollum!' said Sam. 'Where are you going? Hunting? Well see here, old noser, you don't like our food, and I'd not be sorry for a change myself. Your new motto's always ready to help. Could you find anything fit for a hungry hobbit? '

He asks in an insulting and confrontational way. ('old noser' + 'Your new motto's always ready to help' reeking of suspicion)

To be clear, I'm not criticizing Sam whatsoever for disliking and being suspicious of the known murderer he's traveling with against his will. but the way he talks to Gollum does have consequences.

'Yes, perhaps, yes,' said Gollum. 'Sméagol always helps, if they asks -- if they asks nicely.'

Gollum is reluctant and asks to be treated politely. I don't find this response disproportionate or unreasonable. Consider what would happen if anyone talked to LOTR-era Bilbo Baggins the way Sam just talked to Gollum. The ash would still be falling from the sky.

Anyway Sam's response is to mimic the way he talks.

'Right!' said Sam. 'I does ask. And if that isn't nice enough, I begs.'

Gollum leaves, and is gone a long time. While he's gone, Sam gazes lovingly at Frodo, and - this is not directly relevant but I wanted to note it:

Gollum returned quietly and peered over Sam's shoulder. Looking at Frodo, he shut his eyes and crawled away without a sound. [Seeing that Sam and Frodo are occupied, Gollum slips away without interrupting, which is also a different vibe from 'assaulting Frodo with rabbits while he's just sitting there.'] Sam came to him a moment later and found him chewing something and muttering to himself

Look! There's a character arc happening in the background [but not in the movies] It will reach fruition at Cirith Ungol [in the books]

Anyway, Gollum is chewing on something so he's clearly taken time out to hunt for himself as well (note for context: He's disastrously underweight and has been complaining of hunger).

On the ground beside him lay two small rabbits, which he was beginning to eye greedily. 'Sméagol always helps,' he said. `He has brought rabbits, nice rabbits. But master has gone to sleep, and perhaps Sam wants to sleep. Doesn't want rabbits now? Sméagol tries to help, but he can't catch things all in a minute.'

Gollum has brought rabbits on command, and he's reluctant to hand them over. This is the direct opposite of bringing rabbits of his own accord out of nowhere and forcing them onto somebody.

'Now, Gollum,' he said, 'I've another job for you. Go and fill these pans with water, and bring 'em back! ' 'Sméagol will fetch water, yes,' said Gollum. 'But what does the hobbit want all that water for? He has drunk, he has washed.' 'Never you mind,' said Sam.

That was a reasonable question, asked politely and prefaced by 'yes I'll do it'. There's no call for a 'never you mind' and there's certainly no call for this:

`If you can't guess, you'll soon find out. And the sooner you fetch the water, the sooner you'll learn. Don't you damage one of my pans, or I'll carve you into mincemeat.'

Gollum does the work and is careful with the pans as requested.

He was just stooping over his fire, shielding it and building it up with heavier wood, when Gollum returned, carrying the pans carefully and grumbling to himself.

He set the pans down, and then suddenly saw what Sam was doing.

Gollum discovers that 'Never you mind' meant 'I am going to do something you find dangerous and terrifying' i'm pretty sure this is what he's seeing in his POV

He gave a thin hissing shriek, and seemed to be both frightened and angry. `Ach! Sss -- no!' he cried.

Gollum gets angry.

At this point in the movie, Gollum has:

Dumped rabbits in Frodo's lap

Told him to eat them

Played with the dead animals in front of Frodo

there's a cut to Sam cooking the rabbits- Gollum makes no comment at all on the safety or feasibility of a fire, but gets right up close to it to peer into the cookpot, so he must not be too scared of it.

In the book, Gollum has:

Tried to slip away, presumably to eat, because he's hungry. Or maybe he just wants alone time! Shelob is not in visiting range. He's not being dastardly. Leave him alone

He's been flagged down to do additional work, and interrupted from whatever he wanted to do

Went off somewhere. Caught two rabbits (with his bare hands, I assume??) Also caught at least one other thing, because he's chewing something when he comes back

Came back with rabbits

Left Sam to his tender moment with Frodo and went off for more alone time

Gently floated the idea that perhaps Sam doesn't want these rabbits anymore, surrendered the rabbits when asked

Agreed to another errand that is probably difficult for him to do, after hunting down at least two rabbits Up to this point Gollum has been called 'old noser', had his speech patterns parroted at him in a mocking way, had a polite question refused, and been told he will be 'carved into mincemeat' if he damages the cooking pans (does Gollum even know what a cooking pan is? When was the last time he's seen one? Was he just handed some foreign object and told 'put water in it and don't break it' 'of course! why?' 'stfu') Gollum has a whole long complicated history that would reasonably make him very prone to difficulties with emotional regulation. Severe trauma and centuries of social isolation are involved.

He only just now gets angry, now that he thinks Sam is going to start a forest fire and summon orcs and the first word out of his mouth is a relatively restrained 'Ach!' a word that doesn't even start with an F!

Gollum says fire is harmful and will draw enemy attention. Sam says essentially 'probably not but if it does that's too bad'.

Another bit of context is that Gollum has been presenting himself as the 'wilderness survival guy' and has obvious pride when he's talking about finding his way through the marsh. Sam isn't just being dismissive of Gollum, he's particularly dismissing something Gollum has real knowledge of and takes pride in that has nothing to do with being a corrupted evildoer.

Then Sam says he's going to cook the food.

'Stew the rabbits!' squealed Gollum in dismay. `Spoil beautiful meat Sméagol saved for you, poor hungry Sméagol! What for? What for, silly hobbit? They are young, they are tender, they are nice. Eat them, eat them!' He clawed at the nearest rabbit, already skinned and lying by the fire.

After all of that, we are at 'They are young, they are tender, they are nice. Eat them, eat them!' In the movie, the scene started with this line, apropros of nothing, and it's just. Yelled at Frodo. It's an invitation.

In the book: The same line is a cry of frustration. This isn't a non sequitur, this is a last straw! Gollum is hungry. He's been chronically hungry for a long time. The rabbits are exactly the kind of thing he likes to eat. They must smell amazing to him because now they're skinned. He had to turn them over to Sam after going to the work of hunting them (he didn't have to do this, he could have just not come back, or pretended he didn't find anything- whether or not his motives are pure, and they probably aren't, he's doing what he promised).

In return: Sam told him to do more work, and then started a fire- which Gollum seems to genuinely think is idiotic and puts his own safety at risk because he's stuck with these hobbits for the time being- Sam won't listen to reason and put it out, and to add insult to injury, that meat he insisted on?

HE'S JUST GOING TO RUIN IT

Imagine you were hungry and you brought someone an oreo (also you had to wander around in the woods and find the oreo and then surprise it from behind and break its neck), and that person just! scraped off the cream filling and replaced it with spray cheese! after that person called you a jerk and set a fire in a trash can! Maybe that person loves spray-cheese oreos! Maybe everyone but you loves them! I think you'd still be frustrated! (If you're the person who loves spray cheese oreos, pretend it's something else.)

On my first reading of the book this is where I got that sinking 'I am feeling a mite sympathetic to the horrible murderer that I know is just going to stay evil and die in the end' feeling. Gollum is being dreadfully annoying, but he's been pushed past his ability to self-regulate. It feels like the dynamic of antagonizing someone until they melt down and then criticizing them for melting down (Sam is not intending to do this, and doesn't even seem to notice that's what's happened, but the result is the same.)

Sam smooths things over and lets Gollum leave! until

Until

'Gollum!' he called softly. 'Third time pays for all. I want some herbs.' Gollum's head peeped out of the fern, but his looks were neither helpful nor friendly.

WHYEVER NOT?

'A few bay-leaves, some thyme and sage, will do -- before the water boils,' said Sam. 'No! ' said Gollum. `Sméagol is not pleased. And Sméagol doesn't like smelly leaves. He doesn't eat grasses or roots, no precious, not till he's starving or very sick, poor Sméagol.'

(Gollum was retching at the scent of flowers earlier. He may be annoyingly dramatic but I have no cause to doubt that they really did make him feel ill)

(also, I'm out in the weeds speculating now, but I just noticed Gollum is starting to spout off talking about himself and how he feels after Sam pooh-poohed his fretting about the fire, and it feels like a bid for recognition, did you notice Sam has not been calling him Sméagol? Sam isn't using his real name.)

The response:

'Sméagol'll get into real true hot water, when this water boils, if he don't do as he's asked,' growled Sam.

Gollum is here under duress and is cooperating with a quest that is in every way opposed to his personal interests and survival.

'Sméagol won't go, O no precious, not this time,' hissed Gollum. 'He's frightened, and he's very tired, and this hobbit's not nice, not nice at all. Sméagol won't grub for roots and carrotses and -- taters. What's taters, precious, eh, what's taters?

He hasn't had any rest because he was immediately sent off to hunt. I'll bet he is tired

Gollum is still willing to stop being angry because he saw a shiny new word, let's see how this goes

`Po-ta-toes,' said Sam. 'The Gaffer's delight, and rare good ballast for an empty belly. But you won't find any, so you needn't look. But be good Sméagol and fetch me the herbs, and I'll think better of you

Sam gives a cryptic answer and demands more work. 'I'll think better of you?' Lies! Gollum just did two errands and received nothing but more verbal abuse. Sam did not even thank him. This was where on my first reading I was saying to myself 'oh no Sam is mishandling this really badly and doesn't even notice'

I'll cook you some taters one of these days. I will: fried fish and chips served by S. Gamgee. You couldn't say no to that.' 'Yes, yes we could. Spoiling nice fish, scorching it. Give me fish now, and keep nassty chips! ' 'Oh you're hopeless,' said Sam. 'Go to sleep!'

Gollum doesn't understand what chips are. He just said he doesn't like plants or cooked food. He's tired and hungry and has been ordered around all day. He did everything asked up to now and in return he gets called hopeless.

Sméagol willingly, nonconfrontationally, successfully did two out of the three tasks, and when he refuses a third task after being demeaned and dismissed, he's called hopeless.

So Gollum leaves. That's the end of his involvement in this scene. he didn't hit anyone, bite anyone, or call Sam anything worse than 'not nice', 'silly' and 'foolish' (He does not call Sam a 'stupid fat hobbit', that appears to be a movie invention as well)

In the movies, he threw dead animals at frodo and some of this dialog was said without any of the context. haha funni.

The takeaways from the book version are that Gollum can understand and follow verbal commands and do errands (this is important because Gollum needs to be somewhat sane and lucid in order to satisfyingly be held accountable for his crimes), will cooperate when asked, communicates poorly, has trouble controlling his temper, and may at any time be in physical distress and not show it. (He doesn't give outward signs of fatigue.)

The takeaways from the movie version seem to be that Gollum is hyperactive, doesn't understand facial expressions, and finds cooking to be an alien custom. No one tried to ask him to do anything, so I have no idea whether he can understand requests and do tasks or not. May or may not be lucid.

Can we at least agree that Sam saying 'You're hopeless' after this:

Give it to usss rrraw… and wrrriggling! [Makes sickeningly happy face.]

is a different vibe from Sam saying 'You're hopeless' after hearing this?

'[Sméagol]'s frightened, and he's very tired, and this hobbit's not nice, not nice at all.'

Summary

Why is this scene the opposite?

Frodo has gone from being asleep but serving as an emotional anchor (both Sam and Gollum look at him and have some kind of emotional revelation, although the latter has his in private and we don't ever know what it is, the cad) to being awake but doing nothing and leaving. (He does go and find Faramir when the scene ends, but at that point, we are moving on to the next scene. so I don't count it.) Frodo has gone from affecting events while asleep to having no effect while awake

Sam has gone from being in charge of what's happening to passively reacting to a chaos gremlin

Gollum has gone from following orders until he can't take it anymore and suffering to being a chaos gremlin who does whatever he wants and seemingly having a good time? he's dancing around

The stew goes from eaten to uneaten

The overall purpose of the original scene appears to have been mainly to establish character and relationship dynamics. The movie scene... is doing the same, I suppose, but it's so brief and stripped of context that it almost feels like an homage more than a real scene, like it's there because they couldn't get away with entirely cutting it. And as every character is behaving contrary to what they used to in one form or another, the overall effect is:

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Ask me about the waterfall scene next

[moonlightndaydreams]

Can I Watch you, Sungie?

NSFW // 18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader / established relationship

Scenario: You come home from work early to find Jisung on your bed fucking himself with a dildo.

Content warnings below.

Warnings: masturbation // slight voyeurism // anal penetration with a sex toy male receiving // hand job // ejaculation // comfort // praise “good boy”

It was rare that you came home early from work. You weren’t meant to be home for another hour. You shouldn’t have been back yet, and you were excited to surprise your boyfriend Jisung with your presence. Maybe go out for a dinner, or get takeout and watch a movie together? Maybe snuggle and make love? It never really mattered what you both ended up doing, as long as you were with your Sungie.

You slipped inside the front door, flicked off your shoes, dropped your handbag - and that’s when you heard it. Was that whimpering? Moaning, even?

Your heart almost stopped - that was Jisung’s sex noises. Unmistakable. You loved his noises. His little mewls, choked whimpers, the way it sounded like he was gasping for air. You loved those pretty sounds. He made them for you. Because of you.

You tiptoed down the hallway to your bedroom, expecting to get a glimpse of him masturbating.

You arrived at the door to your bedroom and peeked in.

Your love, Jisung, on your shared bed. Naked. Sweating. Whimpering. Moaning. Kneeling with one hand reached around behind him and fucking himself with your dildo.

You gasped louder than you intended when he unexpectedly thrust himself against the toy just a little harder and his squeal of pleasure took you by surprise.

Jisung stilled and opened his eyes that up until then had been closed tight, lost in pleasure. He must’ve heard you, his eyes now wide and frightened, like a deer in the headlights. Dildo still buried inside of his ass.

“Sungie!” Your hand came to cover your mouth. You shook your head and began to apologise. “Sorry, baby — I-I can leave.” You said. Then you let your gaze really take in your precious Jisung. He looked so desperate. His dark locks sticking to his sweaty brow. His chest heaving as he caught his breath. His angry dick leaking pathetically.

“I’m sorry, baby… I thought you wouldn’t—” he stuttered.

“Can I watch you, Sungie? Or….maybe….help you?” You said out of nowhere. There was something about this situation that was making your heart melt and your pussy throb. This was just so… erotic to you.

Jisung blinked rapidly trying to process if he heard you correctly. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek as he swallowed hard. “Y-you are o-okay with this?” He gulped.

“Oh Sungie, my sweet boy.” You carefully approached the bed and climbed up next to the mess of a man and placed a hand on his back. “Can I please help?” You whisper, looking him in the eyes.

Jisung’s face softened and he nodded. “Yes, baby. Can… can you get behind me?” He gestured for you to kneel behind him while he nervously moved into an all fours position.

“Now if.. if you hold it… yes like that… yes that’s it… fuck!” You gripped the end of the dildo as Jisung lowered his front half onto the bed, creating a beautiful curve in his spine and poking his ass up at a very fuckable angle.

Your hands shook as you tried to hold the dildo steady. The sight of it stretching his rim almost obscene. You used your free hand to grip his perfectly pert ass cheek, giving it an experimental squeeze, eliciting a low moan from your lover.

Then he began to push himself back onto the toy. His slow and fluid movements were mesmerising. Watching the toy disappear inside of him and then reappearing made you cunt ache. You knew how good it felt to be penetrated and it turned you on immensely witnessing Jisung experiencing the same thing.

You continued to massage his cheek, giving it a light spank every so often. Jisung was losing himself, the volume of his noises had increased significantly after a short while, filling the room.

“Does this feel good, Sungie? Am I doing okay?” You asked looking for any signs that he might want you to do something differently.

“Fuck me back.” He panted. You looked down at where your hand gripped the toy. He wanted you to thrust into him? You repositioned your thigh behind your hand to use as leverage and gently used your hand and thigh to push the dildo into Jisung. He let out a shaky cry. You stopped immediately, frightened you’d hurt him.

“Don’t stop! Baby…Please, don’t stop… feels good.” He backed against you trying to urge you to keep moving. You tried again, this time a little harder. He seemed to like it. A lot. So you continued to fuck him at moderate pace.

You let Jisung’s responses guide you, speeding up until you were well and truly fucking him dumb. He became frantic rather quickly, pushing his hips back to meet your thrusts. He was falling apart, mumbling incoherently.

You reached up and stroked his sweat-sheened back, goosebumps appeared on his skin at your touch. Your hand eventually rested on his hip, that slim hip, holding and pulling him back onto the dildo. Fuck, you wished you had a cock right now. What you’d have given to feel his walls enveloping you. For it to be your actual body making him cry your name like he was doing right now.

“Sungie?” You leaned over him, accidentally changing the angle of the thrusts.

“Ahahhhaa!” He cried out suddenly.

“Oh my God are you okay?” You sat back up, horrified.

“Like that… do it like that… fuck… need to come…” he managed to say.

You hesitantly leaned back over him, kissing his delicious tanned skin, licking the sweat off of him.

“Your sounds are so pretty, Sungie.” You coo, as you lick and suck any skin you can reach. His sounds were making you crave a release of your own, but you pushed them away. You wanted to take care of your love, Jisung.

You snaked your hand around the front of his body, exploring his hard abdominal muscles as they contracted, making your way down to his untouched cock. Jisung gasped, as though in shock, when you wrapped your fingers around his shaft.

“Sungie, baby, you’re doing so good.” You said and you started to jerk him off in time with your thrusts. This additional stimulation sent Jisung into a frenzy. You no longer needed to actually move the dildo, he was doing all the work now as he chased his release. All you did was continue to jerk him off. His cock was rock hard in your hand, harder than you remembered him ever being before. You imagined it inside of you, inside your cunt, or ass, or mouth. You wanted him everywhere.

You could feel he was almost there. “Come for me, Sungie. Let go.” You encouraged.

“I-I’m… fuuuuuccckkk!” His ass clenched around the dildo and ropes of cum spilled all over the bed spread. His legs almost collapsing underneath him.

You held him steady so he wouldn’t land in his cum, pulling him over to his side and laying him gently on the mattress. You laid behind him, spooning him, and carefully removed the dildo and put it to the side.

“Felt..so..good.” He panted, deliriously.

‘Shh… Sungie. You did so good. My good boy.” You whispered in his ear and nestled your chin into his neck. You wrapped your arm around him, caressing his chest.

“Should we get you in the shower, baby?” You suggested quietly, brushing your fingers over his abs.

But Jisung didn’t answer. He was fast asleep.

————————————————————————

If you enjoyed this story, you might like my story y soft!dom CEO Jisung gets girlfriend!reader to fuck him with a strap on in a fancy hotel (here)

@channieandhisgoonsquad @lyramundana @2chopsticks2eyes @chansmanda @noellllslut @kbitties @antoniorhinothethird @hanjisunglover @jisungiexx @queenmea604

[malleusdraconiasbf]

True Love’s Kiss

M!reader x Malleus Draconia, Reader is partially inspired by Stephan from the Maleficant movies.

A small hair ornament was the last he possessed of him; it had a peculiar shape, resembling one of a butterfly‘s, made of the finest of silvers and its rims decorated with the rarest of jewels. He had hidden it out of plain sight, placing it deep inside the drawer by his desk. This way, He had thought, he would never have to set his eyes on the cursed object again— one tainted with the past, because after all, Malleus didn’t like the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia.

His hand rested on the handle of the drawer— feeling the cold and smooth surface on his bare skin. Malleus gave it a final thought before pulling it open, he was greeted with the usual sight; notes and books.

Suddenly a small object fluttered out of the drawer. When the hair ornaments had not just flown, but even landed on the shoulder of the prince, saying that he was surprised was an understatement. As if it had a mind of its own, the silver butterfly landed, flapping its wings twice before flying in the direction where the door stood. When it noticed Malleus hadn’t done what it wanted, it stopped midtrack before flying back — pulling on his sleeve in the direction it was originally heading. Malleus stared perplex, unknowing what to do, while the butterfly mustered up all its strength to pull on his sleeve one last time. As if feeling its desperation, Malleus decides to do as instructed and followed the sentient hair ornament.

It led a path, one he wasn’t sure where it would bring him. He walks carefully, taking in his surroundings. The sun had already set, and darkness had already blanketed all across its lands; the only remaining light source on this path being that of the butterflys, as it shimmered alongside the moon and the stars.

Unexpectedly the journey came to a halt, the hair ornament landed back on Malleus’ shoulder. The building in front of him was one he had never seen before— Its age and history showing within the condition the prince found it in, nature had already attempted to return and break its material back to what it once was. Malleus reaches out, before gently pushing the gate open.

Vines, flowers, and ivy had already decorated the cathedral-like building— it was unmistakably a place that had very few visitors, but he didn't mind, he liked the solace in places such as this. He had thought of this as nothing more than another abandoned building he would explore.

The sound of his footsteps was the only thing to be heard. There was a narrow path that led to the main entrance. Without much force, the door pried open revealing its insides. Just like the exterior, the interior was pleasant to look at. Many intricate frescoes adorned the walls and ceiling, each painted with care and thought by a skilled artisan.

The space within was vast— high-vaulted ceilings held up by towering pillars; a combination of both created a sense of grandeur and awe. Malleus was taken aback, as this place did not look to be abandoned. Fresh flowers decorated the hall, smelling intoxicatingly sweet.

Suddenly the butterfly left his side again— flying toward the heart of the building. It landed on an object of peculiar shape, wrapped in a dark velvet fabric. Without much thought, Malleus approaches the object— each step careful as not to crush the bouquets of fresh orchids and lilies laying on the ground. His pale hand that seemed to illuminate under the moonlight, reaches out for the velvet before removing it in one swift motion.

Malleus’ eyes widen, an unexpected face appeared; one he was familiar with and had grown fond of in the past, one that was especially strange to see under these circumstances. Behind the glass panel was the face of his beloved— no this couldn’t be. It had been nearly five centuries— surely a mere human wouldn’t be intact for that long, not in this condition. It was as if the one within the coffin was in a deep state of slumber; nothing pointed to the cause of death, nothing was decomposing, not a single sign of discomfort that he might’ve had before his death lingered in his face nor in his aura— it was truly as if he was just asleep.

Malleus’ thoughts were interrupted with a loud thud. The sentient hair ornament had flown against the glass, as if not learning a lesson it continued flying against it, only to be rejected again and again. “Do you wish to return to your owner?” he asked even tho he knew the answer; after all this was everything that (M/n) left behind for him, this very piece of jewelry. Magical clouds began circling the coffin, Malleus motioned with his finger before lifting the case with a spell. Immediately, the butterfly rushes to (M/n)’s side— nuzzling against the crook of his neck as if it searched for a warmth the corpse couldn't provide.

Before him stood evidence that the hatred Malleus bore deep within his heart, whom he directed at this individual, had emerged from a false accusation : It wasn't (M/n) who parted with him, it was death himself who had taken him by force.

As he watched the butterfly readjust it's position, Malleus’ heart grew numb, his mind hazy and his body heavy. He now wished (M/n) had lived the life he had imagined for him: One where he got to witness all the wonders of life, achieve all the goals he had told him about on that faithful night under the night sky, and most importantly, one where his body grew and changed alongside him.

But this (M/n) laying so lifelessly before Malleus, looked no older than when he last saw him.

Malleus sits down on the edge of the coffin— his head hung low. He had known for a long time that it was impossible for (M/n) to return, after all it's been centuries, but now he was being forced to face it head on, the tiny amount of hope he had, borne by denial was crushed.

“Child of man, I wasn't able to bid you farewell during our last meeting, so I shall make it up to you this time..” He spoke, his voice echoing throughout the halls in an eerie manner. The prince leans down, gently tucking (M/n)’s hair before placing a soft kiss on his forehead. “Rest well, my dear (M/n)” he whispers, before pulling away.

word count: 1k