#that night was so hot I keep thinking about it
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hurlingdown · 3 days ago
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                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!
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synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.
tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)
a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.
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“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  
he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 
 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 
“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 
“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 
you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 
“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 
“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 
he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 
“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 
“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 
“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 
“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 
“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 
jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 
“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 
he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 
“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 
and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 
his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.
VANDER
. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 
“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 
he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 
there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 
vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 
it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 
“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 
“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 
who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 
“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 
hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 
before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 
the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 
“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 
he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 
“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.
SILCO
silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 
“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 
“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 
silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 
“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 
“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 
“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 
silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 
“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 
you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 
“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 
“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 
“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 
“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 
but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 
“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 
you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 
he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 
“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 
“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 
the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 
you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 
“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 
“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 
you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 
you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.
VIKTOR
“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 
his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 
“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 
viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 
“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 
it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 
but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?
he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 
it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 
maybe it’ll fit. 
“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 
“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 
“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 
you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 
he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 
you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 
he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.
it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 
“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 
you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.
masterlist!
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archangeldyke-all · 3 days ago
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Consider the following cuz I think it's funny:
Sevika with a gf who's just... Kinda dumb? Just kinda ditzy and airheaded and it's kind of a miracle that she's still in one piece. Just a bit of a bimbo but goddamn does she love Sevika with everything she has.
-🌙
okay as a blonde who definitely has my fair share of Blonde Moments i love this l;askdjflskj
men and minors dni
sevika loves you so much.
so much.
she would kill for you. she would die for you. she would even wear matching pajamas with you-- that's how much she adores you.
that being said... sevika has to admit that sometimes you can be a little... clueless...
you aren't stupid! you're constantly reading and learning, watching documentaries and sharing interesting scientific facts with sevika. you're a whiz in the kitchen, always making delicious meals and treats, and you're incredible with couponing and keeping your grocery bill within budget. in sevika's eyes, you're one of the smartest people she knows...
but... sometimes...
sometimes, you can be a bit of a ditz.
you're horrible with directions. sevika's watched in horror many times while you hook a right, completely confident that you're headed left.
"babe, the bar's this way."
"you said left!"
"use your hands, babe..."
"...oh." you mumble, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment as you turn around and start headed the correct way. sevika cackles and wraps an arm around you.
"where would you be without me?"
"wandering by the docks, probably."
"the docks are south of here, babe."
"yeah, south." you say, pointing east. sevika groans.
she gifted you a compass keychain for your birthday that year.
you struggle with spelling.
you love to leave sevika little love notes-- and she adores them! but sometimes, your notes have the unintended consequence of making sevika cackle while she tries to interpret your unique spelling. 'sevika, i've never been able to be so intimidate with somebody before...'
she teases you for the rest of the night about how intimidating you are together.
sometimes, sevika really wonders how you made it through life without her there.
like when you're behind the bar at the last drop making change for a twenty, and you hand the customer six fives.
"baby, that's thirty!" sevika squawks, smacking your hand before you can hand the man the money."
"what? no, babe, six times five." you say, scoffing and rolling your eyes.
"six times five is thirty, baby." sevika says slowly.
you groan and bury your face in your hands, embarrassed. sevika giggles and wraps you up in a hug, handing the man four bills and kissing your scalp.
"i'm an idiot." you groan.
"sometimes, yeah." sevika agrees. you gasp and elbow her, glaring at her. sevika giggles. "but the rest of the time you're smart! and i'm usually here to help before you can get yourself into any dumb trouble..."
"whatever. you're dumb too!" you say, pointing at sevika. she laughs.
"i am not!"
"you thought i hated you for months before we started going out." you say. sevika cackles.
"i didn't get why you kept looking at me!"
"'cause you're hot!"
sevika grins. "okay, i'm a little dumb emotionally. good thing i got you to balance me out, huh?" she asks.
you grin and kiss her. "you bet your ass."
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25
@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby
@blackgaladriel
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conkreetmonkey · 2 days ago
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Ok, so like I haven't seen this movie in years because it sucked, but like, offscreen, past the "unlikely misfit friendship" story we get, the implications of the Boov invasion were horrifyingly vast and bleak, and even though they "made peace" or whatever in the end, what they did to Earth was still monstrous and unjustifiable? Like, just think:
The majority of the Australian outback turned into "Happy Humansville" or whatever they called it, I'm assuming the watered-down version of the reserves from the book. Not only are the environmental implications of this staggering (like, ok, 90% of Australian plant and animal life has been paved over, cool), and the question of what happened to the Australians and their homes left entirely unanswered, but the outback is kind of sort of an inhospitable desert? Unless the Boov are somehow air conditioning all of Australia, everyone in the middle is going to roast.
The Gorg ship, of course, then just comes along and destroys half the continent, solidifying the near-complete environmental sanitization of Australia. While yes, this was the action of the Gorg and not the Boov, and it was still really fucked of the Gorg to do, he only did this because the Boov stole his only means of reproduction, and he was the last of his kind. He'd have gone extinct if he didn't get it back, of course he acted rashly. They were literally holding his children hostage. It's the cycle of violence spinning around and around, the Gorg now being driven to harm humans in the crossfire despite the Boov putting both of them in that position.
The edge cases... what happened to humans who were undergoing surgery when the invasion happened? Humans maintaining nuclear facilities? Humans with highly contagious diseases? Humans on life support? Diabetics? Humans anaphylactic to dairy? Humans who were being trafficked or were severely injured? Humans whose appendixes were about to explode? Dangerous insane asylum and prison inmates? Dictators? Neo-Nazis? Humans in hospice?
All domestic animals confined to homes, barns or enclosures at the time certainly starved to death.
Did the Boov set up any sort of healthcare system or pharmaceutical supply chain for the humans? They clearly didn't do much research on humans, and now they have control of the insulin, immunosuppressants and chemo supply! ALMOST ALL MEDICALLY FRAGILE PEOPLE PROBABLY DIED!
It looks like the humans are mostly being fed junk food. That's gonna go well, I'm sure. That'll pan out long-term, especially since I'm sure the Boov understand human nutrition and how allergies and celiac work!
All of this is to say, THE BOOV CLEARLY DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW TO TAKE CARE OF HUMANS, AND NOW ALL 7 BILLION ARE PACKED TOGETHER ON A SINGLE ISLAND. No regard for cultural or language barriers, families separated, slipshod infrastructure built in under a day, ebola and tuberculosis patients mixed in with everyone else, and it's really, REALLY fucking hot out there. It would turn into Mad Max within a month.
Like, seriously, imagine. Your new neighbors are a KKK grand wizard, Vladimir Putin, a serial killer in a prison jumpsuit, a child slave with his shackles still on, a man covered in festering sores who keeps coughing, a Chinese 5 year old who's desperately trying to tell you something you can't understand, and a corpse that just splattered on the ground, his chest still open from the heart transplant he was undergoing when the invasion began. Happy Humansville would have been a battle royale almost immediately, as well as an absolute petri dish for disease.
The Louvre being mistaken for a restaurant was played off as a joke, but like... that's actually not good? Every culturally important painting aside from Starry Night was potentially destroyed? Did this happen to every museum on earth? Think of the history that would have been lost. Undoubtedly a thousand Libraries of Alexandria were burnt that day. Every archeological site in Australia is surely gone!
We can just... leave our nuclear power plants unattended, right? Our oil rigs? Our still-running factories? Our dams? Our missile silos?
Even in the doubtlessly watered-down-ass movie, the Boov IRREPARABLY fucked over human civilization, and it's just NEVER brought up.
like the most politically neutered movie of all time unironically
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minkieater · 3 days ago
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EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎
004 》 KIM MINGYU …still
dinner with your family was always extra, just a hint to what thanksgiving with your full extended family would be. when your twin invites mingyu, does he sink or swim? …what about you?
wc 11.3k (i'm sorry) | smut minors dni, oral sex, facesitting, penetration, age gap
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it was as if you never left in the first place– everyone sitting around the couch, vivi on the farthest corner, the only new addition being ace’s girlfriend. all eyes were on you as you walked in the door with a goofy smile on your face, you were floating once again, but this dance with gravity was different– it was entirely yours, and you planned to keep it that way. 
your feet brought you to your staircase on instinct, not muttering a single greeting to any of the six on the couch, you needed to shower, debrief your night with no one but yourself. in these moments a part of you wished that you had a girlfriend you could call, someone outside of your circle to share your night with, the details of mingyu. you didn’t want to hear the opinions of your boys, you couldn’t share it with your twin, your sister was far too young and too judgmental. you wanted someone to share your excitement with, someone who would be just as excited for you. you had no choice but to keep everything locked inside.
tears welled in your eyes as you undressed in your bathroom because you didn't have that person, maybe you wanted it more than you thought. you convinced yourself that the hot water coming from your shower head was the only liquid streaming down your cheeks, you told yourself you had no reason to be upset in the first place– mingyu was perfect, he would come to be your person, you were sure. you thought it was greedy to be anything other than completely elated—  the tears still flowed. 
in the shower your mind traveled, you didn’t think opening up to someone new would make you so emotional, it had been a long time since you’ve told anyone about your dad, everyone who knew about him knew everything– they were by your side through all of it. by the end of your shower your tears had stopped flowing, but as you pulled your tee shirt over your head, they returned with vengeance and for a completely different reason. 
you missed him. your eyes flew to your desk, the framed picture of you and your dad on your first day of sixth grade, he sat on the steps of the school with his arms wrapped around you. you remembered being so nervous to start middle school, crying before you even began getting ready that morning, your mom running frantically around the house to get you to school on time, packing your and ace’s lunches, making sure your backpacks had everything they needed. he usually left the house before you and ace had woken up, but he went into work late that day to see you off to school, always present no matter what. 
you could still hear his voice in your head– “middle school is just like elementary school, tiny, all of your same friends will be there, and you’ll even make more. if you get scared, ace will be right beside you the whole day.”
you could feel his hand on your head, a kiss on your forehead, “how about i take you to school? mommy will take vivi to kindergarten, i’ll take you and your brother. will that help?”
you remembered nodding, sniffing your snot back up your nose, hugging him with your tiny body with so much force it pushed him backward. he laughed, a deep, hearty chuckle with a rasp that could only be caused by the cigars he was always smoking. you wished you knew that was the last first day of school he’d witness, you would’ve hugged him a little harder, pushed him back with a little more force. 
“i miss him, too,” ripped out of your memory with your twin’s hand on your shoulder, you jumped out of your skin. his voice was quiet, like he was testing the waters, he didn’t know where your head was at. 
“you think he’d be proud of us?” you asked him after a pause, looking into eyes that mirrored your own, a face that still looked the same as it did the first day of sixth grade. ace smiled, a warm smile that was comforting as much as it was reassuring. 
“you kidding?” he looked at you as if that was the most stupid question you’ve ever asked, “his kids are in school to be a teacher and a lawyer, he’s bragging about us to every single person he can up there, you know him.”
you laughed through your tears, wiping your eyes. he always did brag about you growing up, he gave every single one of his friends full descriptions of your report cards. ace’s gaze changed, from comforting to protective, “is this actually about dad? you’re not upset because of your date, right?”
you shook your head, “i’m not even upset, i think dad would really like him. makes me wish he was here to meet him.”
“that’s how i feel about reia,” he smiles, sitting down on your bed, and you follow to the spot next to him, laying down flat on your back, silent tears falling past your cheeks to your comforter. ace twists to look at you, “he’s with us all the time, he watches everything.”
“i know,” you mumble, “i told mingyu about him, i didn’t know it’d make me feel like this.”
“wow,” his voice was breathy, his eyebrows raising, “you’re serious about him, then? you don’t talk to anyone about dad.”
he continues after he’s met with silence, you didn’t know how to answer. “you should bring him here this weekend, have him come for dinner on saturday. yeo, san and yunho’s families are coming, too.” 
you sit up on your elbows, “since when?”
“i think yesterday?” he tilts his head, “i don’t know, mom told me this morning. she said ‘family dinner on saturday’, you know what that means.”
your eyes feel swollen, a yawn passing through your lips, heavy and long as you lay flat on your back again. “i’ll see if he’s free.”
ace gets up, walking to your door, “you seem off lately, i hope you know you can talk to me.” 
you turn your head, it’s like he knew exactly what was going through your mind earlier. he leans against your doorframe, “i know i’m your brother and not a girlfriend, but i can feel when something’s going on with you. i’m always here if you need me.”
you nod, and he takes it as his leave, you can hear his footsteps leading back down the stairs to the living room. you crawl up your bed, pulling back your blankets to get comfortable beneath them, exhaustion hitting you like a truck. as much as you missed your dad, you could always find him in your brother, an extension of the man your dad was. you had everyone you needed around you.
you brought up dinner to mingyu the next morning when he called, and he agreed to come immediately— not a moment of hesitation. nerves coursed through you as soon as he said yes, knowing that come saturday, there was no more bubble. the thought crossed your mind that maybe things were moving a little too fast, maybe inviting him to meet your family was too soon, but if mingyu was quick to say yes then he felt the pace of your relationship was just fine. you pushed the thought from your mind. 
──────  ꨄ︎
nervous was an understatement for how you felt about mingyu coming over– you were in the bathroom once an hour, if not more, starting from noon. being almost five… you weren’t sure how you had anything left in you. you shouldn’t be this nervous, you were just with him last night at his place, you even discussed today in depth so you wouldn’t be nervous. 
you’ve never brought a guy around your family before and as much as you were confident in mingyu being the first, you were still scared of your family’s judgement– especially scared of how your friends would feel about him; but if you couldn’t get through your immediate family for a simple saturday night dinner, you’d never get through thanksgiving. you could do this, they would love him, just like he told you they would. 
your mother had catered, of course she did, only the five of you and the catering company in your house until your company would arrive. the smell of food consumed your house, the only time you smelled anything close to a home cooked meal was when someone paid for it and yet it still smelled nothing like the dinner mingyu cooked for you. your mother was dressed up, which you were sure the rest of the boys’ families would be as well, meaning matt and your siblings would be, too. family dinners were always… extra, in the best and worst way. you had to dress up like you were going to a restaurant just for the restaurant to be brought to you. 
ace was in deep blue jeans, a blue sweater that was somehow a darker blue than the jeans, a white collared shirt peeking out from underneath. his sweater hid his tattoos, a watch on his wrist, glasses on his face– he could see just fine, that was your mothers’ doing, for sure. 
vivi didn’t look much different than usual, you realized she looked like you– blue hair wrapped up in a clip, a short, black dress, cardigan with a pair of loafers, she looked both sixteen and not sixteen. you tilted your head as you stared at your family wandering about the kitchen, siblings stealing appetizers from plates carefully placed atop the kitchen island… it all looked so staged, it dawned on you that this was not a simple saturday family dinner at all. you couldn’t help but wonder what mingyu would think. 
you didn’t have to wonder for long as san’s family piled through your front door, mingyu following right behind them– prompt, just as you’d expected. as it usually does, seeing his face willed away all of your worries, his smile bringing forward the excitement you’d buried deep beneath the anxiety. he held a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine after you told him not to bring anything, your feet started moving before you willed them to.
“hey, sweetheart,” he smiled, pulling himself to the side of the crowd that he followed inside your foyer, canines showing in a wide smile before leaning down to press his lips to yours. dressed as if you’d sent him a dress code, he looked the same as the rest of you– a loose button down that had one side tucked into black slacks, a pair of sneakers on his feet that you just knew were expensive, a black jacket hung over his broad shoulders. you reached for the flowers and wine, which he quickly lifted far above your head, shaking his head. “these are for your mom, silly girl.”
your cheeks flushed, “what a gentleman, where’s my gift?” 
“you’re looking at it,” his smile was impossibly wider, maybe even mischievous as he stood tall again, shoulders wide as he scanned your foyer, taking it upon himself to walk inside. you called for your mom who was in the middle of kissing san’s mom on both cheeks in greeting. 
your mom’s eyes widened just enough for you to catch it before she hurried over to where you and mingyu stood, quickly reaching upward to hook her hands around mingyu’s neck. “mingyu! it’s so great to meet you, i’ve heard so many good things!” 
you almost roll your eyes– she’s heard close to nothing about mingyu. you wanted to save it for tonight, to let everyone meet mingyu and know him themselves before you gave out information. he offered her the flowers and the bottle of wine and she blushed– you wanted to crawl out of your skin, but a part of you was proud at the same time. 
“handsome, kind man– tiny, he’s a keeper,” she whispered to you in passing as she brought mingyu’s gifts towards the kitchen, handing them to one of the caterers who promptly followed her orders, despite it not being their job. 
mingyu followed as you greeted san’s family, pressing a kiss to his mom’s cheeks, a prompt hug to his dad before you finally reached san who wore the biggest smirk you’ve ever seen. his voice was hushed as he said, “i understand why you’re keeping him to yourself.” 
your smile swiftly changed into a smirk, “tell me about it, you wanna meet him?” you ushered mingyu over, pulling him away from san’s parents who he was already in the midst of a conversation with, introducing him to san who looked like he saw an angel. they quickly fell into conversation, the topic turning into gym talk quicker than you thought it would, but you weren’t surprised in the slightest. 
yeosang and his family followed shortly after, his mom rushing in with a bottle of red wine, hurrying straight to your mom where you were sure she was dying to tell her some form of drama. yeosang followed behind, making a beeline straight to where you stood with the two men, an impressed look on his face. 
his eyebrows were raised, head tilted towards mingyu in a way you knew said ‘is this him?’ and you gave him a proud smile– this was going so much better than the million terrible scenarios you imagined. yeosang interrupted their conversation to introduce himself to mingyu, the two shaking hands, effectively pushing you out of the triangle they formed almost immediately. 
yunho’s family was last to show up, his tall figure looming over the rest of his family, you caught his eye just as he stepped over the threshold into your foyer. the four of you stood in the living room off to the side, mere feet from where he walked in– yet he followed his parents straight into your kitchen, completely dismissing you where the group of you stood. 
you seem to be the only one who noticed as you quirked a brow, your feet leading you to the kitchen before you had a moment to think about it. “hey,” you said softly, your eyebrows slightly knitted together, your arm coming up to rest on the sleeve of his jacket.
he twists his body to look down at you, muttering a “hey” that matched yours before he was tugging off the sleeves of his jacket. you pulled your hand back to your side. 
“everything okay?” you tilted your head, taking his jacket from him, bouncing on your feet– adrenaline was coursing through you, if you wanted anyone to like mingyu, it was yunho. his aloof attitude was almost enough to wake your nerves back up.
“yeah, all good, was that the boyfriend at the door?” he looked over your head, eyes going back to your living room where the three still stood. ace walked over, mouth full of another one of the appetizers he’d been snacking on for at least the past hour, interrupting you and yunho entirely.
“what up? these are really good,” he lifted his hand up to the two of you, two more of the finger foods in his palm, talking with his mouth open and full of food. you lifted your top lip in disgust, shaking your head, walking to the closet to hang yunho’s jacket. 
when you walked back to the living room, ace and mingyu were shaking hands, one of the finger foods in mingyu’s open palm– definitely from ace. yunho stood next to him, his face stoic as it was moments ago, all of the men now in conversation. you made your way around the circle, taking everyone’s jacket– host duties. 
“i can hang mine,” mingyu shook his head when you finally got to him, looking baffled that you even asked for his jacket, “you have enough in your hands, sweetheart. here, let me take some.” 
your cheeks flushed as he took all of the jackets from your arms, the rest of the boys watching as you led him to the closet, hanging each jacket from his arms onto the wooden rack in the middle of your hallway. 
“they’re all super cool,” mingyu’s voice was quiet as you took another jacket from his arms so only you could hear him, “not at all intimidating like you made it out to be.”
“is that sarcasm?” you give a playful smile, tilting your head, keeping your eyes on him as you put the sleeves of yeosang’s jacket over the hanger. 
“they’re all much younger than me,” mingyu’s face was unbothered, blank without a trace of sarcasm, “you were nervous for nothing. you and ace look the exact same, it’s kind of terrifying.”
you rolled your eyes, a sound of amusement escaping you, “you know we’re twins, gyu.” 
“i’d believe you if you told me that you were identical,” he raised his eyebrows, shifting his weight to one foot after he handed you the last jacket. 
facing the coat rack, you looked over your shoulder to say, “so i’ve heard.” 
you brought him to the kitchen, the four families stood around the massive room, split into two groups– mothers with mothers, fathers with fathers and matt, everyone already deep in conversation. you lean toward mingyu, “they’ll talk until it’s time to eat, we usually hangout in the living room, then we’ll eat at the table that will remind you of the last fucking supper, then the parents usually all leave and the boys stay over.”
“you told me that last night, where does your mom cater from?” mingyu asks, brain elsewhere, mindlessly walking further into the kitchen which forces you to follow behind him. you were initially not going to go in there, but instead drag him back to where the boys were– you were following him like a lost puppy in your own house.  
your mom pulled him into her conversation, introducing him to the rest of the moms, you watched as mingyu shook everyone’s hand wearing his infamous, perfect smile. mingyu didn’t shy away for a moment, instead he seemed eager to meet everyone– you seemed to forget mingyu is a man, and not only a thirty year old man, but a businessman. he doesn’t shy away from conversation or hide from it, he welcomes it, he knows how to do it. you wondered if it was just because he had eight years on you or if it was because these people are your people. 
either way, it didn’t matter as you were inevitably pulled into the conversation, yeosang’s mom asking for the story of how you met. mingyu looked down at you, “can i tell the story?”
you nodded, you were sure the smile hadn’t left his face once. “she was out on a date already when we met, actually.”
yeosang and san’s mom both giggled after gasping at the same time, making mingyu chuckle with them. “scandalous– i know, but i couldn’t help it. she was touring the distillery i own, and i was smitten the moment i saw her. i gave her my business card instead of flat out giving her my number, i had to be inconspicuous.”
“you own a distillery?” yunho’s mom lifted a brow, leaning forward, making the wine in her glass rock side to side in its confines. 
mingyu nods, “seventeen whiskey, if you’ve heard of it.” 
“if i’ve heard of it– jongcheol! come here,” san’s mom calls across the room to the group of fathers, who were all standing in their own circle, glasses full of what you assumed was whiskey. “apologies, he loves that whiskey, i want him to meet you. mingyu, right?” 
“kim mingyu,” he says with a nod, waving his hand in protest, “don’t apologize at all.” 
as san’s parents pulled mingyu into conversation, you were left with the other moms who were staring at you expectantly. yeosang’s moms voice is hushed as she leans closer to you, “that’s a keeper, tiny.”
your smile is wide, because you know, and you’d do your very best to keep him.
“i always thought you’d end up with one of the boys,” your mom frowns for a second before it turns into a warm smile, “but i can’t lie and say he isn’t perfect for you, teens– better keep him far away from us.”
the three moms cackle in laughter, clinking their wine glasses with one another in agreement, probably already leaning toward tipsy. you laugh with them, attempting to not show your discomfort, not knowing what else to do in this situation– you needed a drink. 
you walked towards your garage door off the side of the kitchen, all of the alcohol you and the boys drank was stocked in the fridge there, only whiskey and wine inside the house. when you pulled open the door, ace and yunho stood in front of the fridge with beers in hand, already in conversation. you could only hear the end of ace’s sentence, making out the words ‘i don’t like it’. 
“don’t like what?” you asked as you stepped through the door frame, your back to them as you ripped open the refrigerator door. their heads snapped to you the moment you were through the threshold, quiet for a moment before ace answered. 
“what the caterers are serving for dinner,” ace responds, him and yunho now standing side by side as you crack open a surfside. 
“why are you talking about it in the garage? you okayed the menu when mom asked,” you raised an eyebrow as you took a sip from your can, putting your other hand on your hip.
“i changed my mind,” ace shrugged, “let’s go back in, it’s cold in here.”
your eyebrows furrowed as ace threw his arm around your shoulder, pushing you back inside the house. san, yeosang and vivi were all in the second living room with the TV, sat on the couches just as they were the other night– vivi on the farthest corner, the other two taking up their usual spots. ace and yunho sit where they usually do, whipping out their phones as soon as they sat down.
the whole interaction threw you off completely. they were in the living room, yet every ounce of you wanted to be in the kitchen with mingyu— yet you didn’t want to be in the kitchen with the parents at all. you shift your weight on your heels, an invisible string pulling you to your usual spot on the couch as you said, “i’m gonna go check on mingyu.” 
you shook it off before you reached the kitchen, mingyu all but blending in with the dads, standing tall above the group of them. it makes you smile, it was amusing to see mingyu towering over several fifty year olds. you slip in the circle next to him, all the dads greet you, already telling you how great mingyu is— including matt, not that it mattered to you. 
your smile is wide, confidence coming back to you– “thank you, i know.” you look up to mingyu, “i’ve been a terrible host, did you want a drink?”  
mingyu nods, opening his mouth but you already knew what he was going to say, “we have macallan 18, family reserve bourbon, 15 i think, or yamazaki 18.” 
he thinks for a second, taken aback by your knowledge, you actually asked matt for the information last night. he smiles in surprise, “the bourbon, can you pour–”
“neat, i know,” you wink, finishing his sentence again, escaping from the dad-circle to head to the bar off the side of your kitchen, in the corner of the dining room. you don’t realize mingyu follows you until you’re standing at the bar, back to him as he slips his hand around your waist, turning you around with ease. 
you don't have any time to make a sound of surprise before his lips are pressed to yours, hastily slipping his tongue into your mouth with such force your hands move to the counter behind you to hold yourself up. you whine into the kiss, using your arms to give you leverage to push your chest into him, hands then breaking from the counter to reach up to his face. 
“where’d this come from?” you break the kiss, keeping your face centimeters from his, releasing the breath he stole from you back into his mouth. it was hot– doing this in a corner of your house where you could easily be seen. this energy was new for mingyu, you weren’t used to him being so eager, so impatient, instead usually slow and controlled— you liked this attitude on him, the feeling that he couldn’t wait made you just as impatient. 
his lips are on yours before answering, “that was so fucking sexy, you studied whiskey for me?” 
you giggle into the kiss, that explains that, “i asked matt one question and he went on about what we have for probably ten minutes, he’s very proud of our collection.” your words are light and bubbly, a harsh contradiction to how mingyu’s lips traveled to your jaw, “i now know that the bourbon is from kentucky, it’s legendary, it’s flavor profile is caramel, oak and–”
“vanilla,” he finishes for you, pulling away from your neck to peck your lips again. “we talked about whiskey the entire time you were gone.”
“i’m sure you loved that,” you stare up into his eyes, rich, chocolate brown staring back at you, deeper than usual— hungry. you tilted your head, batting your eyelashes to egg him on further, “did i impress you?” 
his groan was deep, coming from the depths of his lungs, quiet enough to not be heard outside of the room. he pressed his forehead to yours, voice lowering an octave, “if i could fuck you stupid against this bar i would.” 
you gasped, eyebrows twisting, his words went straight to your core. he still wouldn’t sleep with you last night, instead insisting only you get off once again– you cursed under your breath, “you’re fucked up for saying that now when you had me under you last night.”
he backed up a step, his smirk devious, “i’ll have you under me again tonight, just say the word, princess.” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before looking past you, picking up the bottle of bourbon as if the interaction you just had didn’t affect him in the slightest. you looked at him with wide eyes, your mouth damn near watering– all you could think was finally, finally, finally. 
he poured his own glass of whiskey instead, leaving you breathless and silent next to him, trying to push your desire down until you didn’t notice it anymore, which deemed itself impossible when the only thought in your head was what’s to come later. you heard your mom announcing dinner was ready from the kitchen, ruining your moment alone with mingyu entirely, and you walked into the kitchen with hot ears and a burning pit in your stomach. 
everyone was already beginning to sit around the enormous table, long enough to fit the fifteen of you, caterers running about the kitchen with food on platters. the table was set with plates and silverware, glasses of water already filled, centerpieces extravagant and totally unnecessary— the stage was set perfectly, you were sure your mom was thrumming with pride. 
you took your place where you always did, inviting mingyu to sit beside you instead of yunho who sat directly across from you. the table was always divided between the parents and the kids, husbands sitting with wives, but you, your siblings and your friends always sat at the other end of the table, always in the same seats. mingyu sat to your right, putting yeosang to your left, vivi beside him, then across from you was san, ace and yunho. mingyu sat beside san’s father, which you were sure wasn’t on purpose— the man immediately brought up how mingyu ran his company. 
as you got settled in your seat, the others talking amongst one another and mingyu beside you in conversation, the unease returned as if it never left. you realized you had nowhere to run, there was nothing for you to do— no taking jackets from anyone else, no drinks to be fetched from the bar, no escaping to an entirely different room to avoid whatever you were scared of. 
mingyu’s hand rested on your thigh as if he could read your thoughts, not even sparing you a glance from being mid-conversation with san’s dad— but somehow he knew, or he didn’t know and this is just who mingyu is. you rested your hand on top of his as your mom stood at the head of the table. 
she made her speech, the same one as usual— you can choose friends but you can’t choose family, how lucky are we to have been able to choose our own family? you were sure the six of you could recite it by heart— as you looked to the other five seated around you and they silently said her speech verbatim, you had to cover your mouth to muffle the laugh that rose up in your throat. 
the caterers came around much like waiters in your own house, filling up your plates one by one with entrees and sides from a menu your mom picked by hand. 
“i need to know where she caters from,” mingyu leaned in close to your ear, nudging your arm with his own after taking his first bite, making you smile as you cut into your own food. “it’s not funny, i’m serious. i want to hire them.”  
“ask her yourself,” you nudge back, moving your food around on your plate. you looked up as you brought your fork up to your mouth, ace was in the middle of saying something into yunho’s ear. you pointed your gaze at the taller one who caught your eye, he didn’t even react, dismissing you as if you hadn’t even made eye contact at all. 
“stop telling secrets,” you say across the table, making yeosang’s ears perk up from beside you. 
“share with the class,” yeosang backs you up, eyes also pointed at the two. ace shoots the same glare back at yeosang, which shuts him up entirely. it was getting too obvious now— you were itching to grill them about it. 
“ace,” mingyu starts from beside you, ripping you from your thoughts, “your sister told me you’re a law student, right? where do you go to school?” 
ace’s expression is blank, “uh, i go to lexford, studying corporate law.” 
mingyu winks, “call me when you pass the bar, i might need you in the future.” he picks up another piece of his food with his fork, “i actually have a buddy who leads a seminar for something to do with corporate law— maybe ethics?” 
a knowing smile sits on ace’s face as he leans forward on the table, body turning in mingyu’s direction, “tell me it’s jeon wonwoo.” 
mingyu’s smile grows wider, “that’s him, you know him?” 
“i’m taking his online seminar this semester,” ace nods as his entire face lights up, “incredibly smart guy, his seminar is like nothing else i’ve attended for, like, my entire career at lexford.” 
mingyu laughs, “i’ll have to tell him, i’ll put in a good word.” 
“wait, actually?” ace’s eyebrows shoot up, “i’m working on my thesis and an independent study with him would actually save my life.” 
“he owes me a favor,” mingyu nods with a tight lipped smile, “i’ll see what i can do.” 
your smile widens, you feel lighter, a weight lifted off of your shoulders from such a simple interaction. you’ve never cared about ace’s approval for anything, but for some reason it feels so good to see him bonding with your maybe-could-be-boyfriend. 
the unease doesn’t fully go away, especially not when yunho began shooting daggers across the table, eyes cold as ice in a way you haven’t seen in ages, you weren’t sure if you or mingyu were on the receiving end. you shiver. 
mingyu notices your physical reaction, his massive arm wrapping around your shoulders, palm rubbing your bicep in comfort. he leans into your ear, “you cold?” 
“something like that,” you respond, a meek smile on your face. you wouldn’t call him out across the table, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle yunho’s brute honesty in front of the people who mattered most to you— if you had every person’s approval except for yunho, how much weight would his opinion hold?
dinner passed smoothly, mingyu was immersed in conversation with the parents while you talked to your friends, barely even speaking a word to one another unless he brought you into the other side of the table for conversation. you didn’t think anything of it until you were in your basement after dinner was over, the boys on the couch before the tv with controllers in hand, playing the game they were always playing. you felt like you had mingyu’s voice in your ear the entirety of dinner, and now he was silent. 
“do you know the game they’re playing?” you ask him, cuddled into his side on the smaller couch off to the side, your skirt long forgotten. you replaced your outfit with sweats the moment all of the parents left through the front door– if your mom loves anything, it’s appearances. 
“no idea,” he says, but his eyes are trained on the television, eyebrows slightly furrowed in focus. he leans his head onto yours, asking, “do you play with them?”
“hell no,” you giggle, “i have no interest in video games.” 
“i play sometimes, just haven’t played this one,” he leans his head back, settling into the couch a little more, hand coming to rest on your thigh. the gears turn in your head, realization hitting you that the only thing mingyu had in common with any of your boys was the gym and ace’s professor, of all things. 
mingyu had everything in common with the parents— a career first and foremost, their schedules, taxes. the gap is apparent and it’s huge, the thought feels sour in your stomach and you hate it. everything up until now had been perfect, you needed to dry off the rain on your parade before it turned to a downpour. 
“wanna go upstairs?” you ask him directly in his ear, not that any of the boys could hear you with their incessant screaming at the game. he looks at you with eyebrows raised, a surprised look on his face, but he nods with no hesitation. 
“we’re going up,” you announce to the room as you walk toward the staircase and all necks snap to look at you. the unease slithers back up your spine after you feel like it just left you, the hairs on your arms sticking up– in that moment you knew there was something they weren’t telling you, and all four boys are in on it this time. 
your face contorts into something between confusion and alarm as san asks, “you don’t wanna hangout a while longer?” 
your head turns, neck twisting in discomfort. you hesitate, not sounding completely sure of yourself as you respond, “it’s getting late, i want to watch my show.”
“are you staying over?” ace asks mingyu, chin jutting upward in question to where mingyu stood. 
mingyu shrugs, head turning to you as he says, “if you’ll have me.”
you suck your lip between your teeth while nodding, and mingyu gives you a tight lipped smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. oh, you hate this and you need to fix it now. mingyu has been able to read you since the moment you met, you knew as soon as you stepped foot into your bedroom he’d be quizzing you. you bid the boys goodnight and head all the way up to your room, you were brainstorming the entire trudge there, only coming up with one thing to make this feeling go away– what he promised you earlier. 
your room was on the opposite end of the hallway from ace, the guest room and a bathroom separating you, vivi’s room up in the attic– her choice. with your parents’ room on the first floor, you officially had nothing to stop you from jumping mingyu, no one to hear you. you were sure that everything would go back to normal after that. 
“it’s so… clean,” mingyu says as you turn on the lamp beside your bed, filling the space with a dim warmth, white bed sheets turning a sunset orange under the amber hue. 
“thank you,” you smile, closing your bedroom door, “it has to be that way or else i can’t sleep.” 
he raises a brow, “really?” 
you shake your head, “you have no idea. do you want a change of clothes? i can snag some from ace’s room, i think even yunho might’ve left some clothes in the guest room.” 
he’s walking around your room, looking at all of your decorations, then his eyes glaze the picture frames on your desk. he looks over to you after a moment of silence, “yes, please, then we can talk about why that was so weird.” 
your lips pull into a line– you hadn’t even gotten a chance to seduce him yet, fuck him and his developed frontal lobe. your feet drag into the guest room, thinking yunho’s clothes would fit him better than ace’s, even though ace’s build wasn’t too far off from either men. 
before you even handed mingyu the pile of clothes, he was already reaching behind his head, slipping his shirt over his head. your breath hitches in your throat– finally, finally you were seeing what was hidden underneath, and being flabbergasted wasn’t enough to explain what mingyu was keeping beneath his shirt. honey, golden and chiseled, as if he were handcrafted by the gods themselves, your imagination couldn’t compare to the absolute perfection that was kim mingyu. 
you cursed under your breath, eyes racking down his body from his collarbone to his belt, pile of clothes dropping to the floor and feet carrying you closer to him without a second thought. words come back to you as you shamelessly say, “i need my mouth on every inch of you.” 
he laughs, a soft chuckle as you stand up on your tippy toes to reach his lips, your mind clear enough to realize that your plan was set back in motion. the kiss was dizzying, so deep and sensual it had your brain clouding up as he walked you backwards until the back of your knees hit your mattress. 
he laid you back, massive frame hovering over yours as his lips met yours once again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. you hooked your legs around his back as he fully crawled onto the bed, hands coming to the back of his neck to pull him closer. 
he pulls back, still keeping his face close, “we need to talk, princess.” 
“later,” you murmur, attaching your lips again, pulling him closer. your hand travels down his chest to his pants, fingers wisping over what was beneath them, wanting to feel him. he grows under your touch and lets out a groan, breaking the kiss to let his head hang, eyes screwed shut tight as you up the pressure. 
“want you so bad,” you say in the sweetest voice as your hands go to his belt, and he actually lets you unbuckle it. all thoughts leave you as you pull the strip of leather from its loops, this was actually happening, and it was in your bedroom– somehow it made everything more intimate. 
he curses as your hand reaches below his boxers after getting him unzipped with ease, strong arms still holding himself up beside your head. you moan as you finally feel him, you couldn’t hold it back, imagining what he’d feel like inside you, you needed to see him. 
“let me taste you,” you whispered, more of an order than a question and he keels over, body rolling off of you.
“you’re gonna be the death of me,” his voice is surprisingly wrecked as his back hits the mattress, hands folding beneath his head. your grin is wide at the idea of him obeying you, flipping over so easily after so long of denying you… the thought of what made him finally say yes crosses your mind.
“you’ll be just fine,” your excitement is clear as you pull his boxers down his thighs, watching in awe as his length springs up against his abdomen. a sight for sore eyes, pink and leaking, he was just as massive as he felt and as delicious as you’d imagined. your eyes widened, “so fucking big.” 
between his legs you began with kitten licks to his tip, drinking up the droplets of precum he’d offered you with obligation. raw and unfiltered and so him, you moaned at the same time, music to your ears giving you the confidence to take him into your mouth fully. two hands around him with room to spare, you wondered if mingyu would fit inside you, he was definitely not fitting inside your mouth. 
“fuck, you’re so good,” he groaned, keeping his voice low, his hands coming from the back of his head to pull your hair away from your face. as you created a rhythm, bobbing along his length with your mouth and hands moving in unison, his words came out staggered as he said, “just like that, princess.” 
you loved mingyu’s praise, you loved his degradation, too– but hearing the words with your mouth wrapped around his cock was different. it urged you to work harder, to take him further, as if feeling his cum hitting the back of your throat would be more than a reward, more like a gift. you pumped him faster, hollowing out your cheeks just a little and he gasped, hips bucking into your mouth, cock hitting so deep you gagged. he moaned, really moaned, a higher pitch than what you’ve heard yet, and the wetness between your thighs grew tenfold. 
his hands wrapped in your hair tightened, a harsh grip on your scalp as he said, “don’t fucking stop– ah, doing so fucking good for me, baby.”
your eyes screwed shut, fighting your gags hard as you pushed yourself further, no doubt bruising your throat just to hear him keep talking. as if he could hear your thoughts, he continued, “want me to cum down your pretty little throat?”
you could hear his smile as he taunts you, “bet you’d love that, been begging for my cock for days.” 
you whimper, eyes opening with tears in your waterline, involuntarily swallowing around him. he lurches forward, eyebrows knitting in pleasure, voice dipping an octave, “fuck– fuck, do that again.”
you obeyed, constricting your throat around him again and his head falls back, his adam’s apple on display before it snaps forward again, “i’m gonna- gonna cum.”
his hands flee from your hair, and you know immediately it’s so you don’t feel pressured to take him down your throat, but you couldn’t imagine not being rewarded for your efforts. you gag around him again, the tightness of your throat finally pushing him over the edge and he spills, a quiet, long groan leaving his lips as ropes of white cum shoot down your throat, swallowing before even tasting him. 
he curses as you lick him clean, popping off of him with a proud smile on your face. he chuckles before leaning forward, grabbing you by your armpits to pull your body atop his. he smiles before pecking your lips, “you’re so fucking perfect, so fucking perfect.”
you kiss him again and he embraces it, tongue slipping into your mouth without hesitation, nasty and messy and wet. you whimper, your cunt was throbbing– you could feel the wetness between your legs only growing, as if your body knew it was mingyu under you, knew you could be coming in minutes if he’d just slip his hand beneath your panties. 
“you gonna be quiet for me?” he asks, hands coming up to keep your hair away from your face, cradling your cheeks. you nodded, bringing a hand on top of his, pulling it away from your cheek to press a kiss to his palm. 
“i know you will, my good girl,” your body heats up at his words, threatening to let a moan slip from your lips without even being touched. he continues, his words stealing all the breath from your lungs, “sit on my face.” 
“gyu,” you whine, keeping your voice hushed, “want you inside me already.”
“gotta open you up first, wanna taste you,” he says absent mindedly as his fingers go to your hoodie, pulling it up with your shirt and quickly slipping your sweatpants down your legs. 
you don’t argue, but instead hesitate out of nerves– you pause, legs hovering over his chest, knees planted onto the mattress. you bite your lip, “i’ve never done this before.”
“you’ve never gotten head before?” his eyes shoot open, staring at you as if that was a crime. 
“no!” your voice is louder than you intended it to be, quieting down again to say, “i’ve never sat on someone’s face before.”
“oh,” he says as if it was no big deal, then looks up at you again with an eyebrow lifted, “really?” 
“mingyu,” you whine, “tell me what to do.” 
“sit,” he says simply, and he doesn’t continue. that was his only instruction.
you blink at him, “and then what?” 
he smiles wide, “and then i make you cum.” 
his hands are on your hips before you can process it, pulling you down onto his face, the moment his tongue meets your folds you moan. wanton, lewd, it was long and loud. 
“what’d i say?” he pulls away to scold you and you purse your lips, eyes widening as if you’d just gotten caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. “as much as i want to listen to you, your entire family is in this house. be respectful.”
“no one’s on this floor, they can’t hear us,” you argue, but his tongue is back between your folds instead of answering you. your head falls forward and you moan quieter this time, no headboard for you to grab onto, your muscles already willing to give out. 
he pulls you down onto his face harder and you mewl, he’s silently begging you to let go of control, let loose on his face – but you don’t know what you’re doing and you don’t want to crush his face between your thighs. 
“relax,” he encourages from beneath you, voice soft and sweet, thumbs massaging circles into your hips. you relax your muscles, keeping most of your weight on your knees rather than on his face, focused more on doing than enjoying. he notices, hands traveling to your chest, flipping your bralette upward to get his hands on your breasts. 
thumbs ghosting over perked nipples had you twitching, your hips grinding against his tongue and he smiled against you, using more pressure, taking the buds between his fingers to pinch. your hips bucked, clit sliding forward to bump against his nose and it seemed to crack open all sense of dignity with the way you released an unrestrained moan. noise after noise left your lips, without complaint from mingyu as you began to grind against him, gaining a rhythm now, hands coming up to grip at his wrists as the pit began forming in your stomach, quicker with each pass of his nose over your clit. 
“that’s it, princess. use me,” he said into you, hot breath on your center, eyes completely glossed over and focused solely on you, the words sending all the blood in your body straight to your center, beckoning your orgasm to come faster. you quickened your pace, the sounds escaping you turning desperate and filthy as your hands came down to grip onto his hair, his tongue sticking outward so you can ride it. 
it was new— this feeling of confidence, being in control, getting yourself off at your own pace. just a few weeks ago no one else had even made you finish, and here you were holding the reins. how far you’ve come.
“mingyu– i’m gonna cum,” you gasp out, shocking yourself with how utterly debauched you sounded, too far gone for embarrassment to wash over you. the pads of his fingers play with your buds as you bring yourself to orgasm, hips riding his face at a rhythm to send yourself over the edge, breath hitching in your throat as you finally feel it hit. like a train, a bus, a truck, shockwaves of pleasure rack through you that had your legs shaking around his head, hips twitching against his lips, head hanging forward with your eyes rolled back— mingyu was drinking it up. 
arms hooking around your hips to keep you in place and his tongue flattening out to lick you up had you convulsing, whimpers flying from your lips as your orgasm fades to a muted throb and overstimulation takes over. 
“mingyu.” your hands grip onto his hair again, hips that attempted to buck away from his face didn't have very far to go until strong arms pulled them back into position. 
he finally gives you the space to come down, a comforting sigh leaving your lips on cue. his head hits the mattress, hair fucked and eyes glazed over, but his smile was victorious. “that was so hot, do it again.” 
“i want to sit on your cock not your face,” you shimmy out of his grip and he lets you – much to your surprise – hips backing up to sit on his very bare thighs. his eyes drift from your center sitting inches away from his cock that was hard and leaking against his stomach again back up to your face, you were sure it was flushed and sweaty and gone by now. 
“gimme a sec, let me grab a condom,” he says as he sits up, pecking your lips before scooping you from his lap onto your mattress. 
“what makes you think i don’t have one?” you don’t, you know you don’t, but you tease him anyways as your head hits your pillows, positioning yourself so the two of you wouldn’t be sideways anymore– and now you have the headboard if you need it. 
he turns back to you as he pulls his wallet from the back pocket of his pants, a knowing look on his face, “okay, do you have one?” 
your lips purse, “no.”
his smile was comical, “thought so.” 
he kneels between your legs after taking his pants off fully, ripping the packet open with his teeth, spitting the foil onto the bed beside your legs. you didn’t think a simple act could be so sexy, especially one as awkward as that, by this point it shouldn’t surprise you that mingyu could make anything hot. you unclasp your bra behind you and throw it to the floor, widening your legs further, excitement consuming you. you wanted him so bad, you were thrilled he didn’t wait any longer, you weren’t sure if you could take it anymore. 
you gasp as he bends down to spit between your folds, hips bucking as he spreads it across your folds. he looks up to you, face turned serious, “if it hurts you need to tell me.” 
“i will,” your voice was breathy, giving it away that you were here but not fully. growing impatient your eyes were trained on his cock, not even looking at him as you responded. 
“hey, look at me,” he leans forward, arms caging you in, forcing you to pay attention as his build completely swallows you beneath him. “tell me if it hurts.” 
“oh my god, i will,” you whine, legs hooking around his back– your mouth was near watering. 
“spoiled,” he mutters as he lines himself up, tip so much as prodding at your entrance invoking a hiss from your lips. you curse as he pushes further, your eyes screwed shut in something between pain and pleasure, but you don’t say a word– you’d lose your mind if he stopped now.
“so tight– ah, gotta open up for me, baby,” his voice is strained, taking it slow as he inches forward, cock dragging against your walls at an agonizing pace. “fuck, knew i should’ve made you cum again.” 
“keep going,” you encourage, moving your hips to meet his thrust, taking him further. the stretch was delicious– slightly painful, mingyu was bigger than anyone else you’d ever taken, thicker than anything that’s ever been inside you. it was worth it, so, so worth it as you feel every vein along your walls, hypnotizing you, dragging you under whatever spell he was casting. 
when he pushed himself to the hilt he took a pause, giving you a moment to adjust, to get used to how big he felt inside you. you hummed, the burn along your entrance dimming to a flicker of heat. he felt perfect inside you, as if he was made to be there, as if your walls were already molded to his shape. 
“move?” he asked, his right hand moving your hair out of your face before he cupped your cheek, you fed him a nod. he slipped out slowly, rocking his hips to push back in at a quicker pace– you moaned, the pain turning to pleasure as soon as he hit that spot.
“so fucking tight,” he said under his breath, voice rough and husky, “god, you’re fucking perfect.” 
you moaned in response, back arching into him as he hit that spot again– it wasn’t by chance, his thrusts were precise, practiced, they were skilled. like everything else he’d done so far, mingyu knew exactly what to do to completely wreck you. 
“holy fuck,” you cried, your moans growing in volume as he picked up the pace, rocking his hips as if it were a dance, movements so fluid you already considered yourself ruined for anyone else. no one could compare to this. 
you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you, touch you, be close to you as he fucked you dumb– you needed everything all at once, his cock felt so good inside you it was almost overwhelming. he kisses you hard, lips messy and harsh and incredible, the perfect pair to his cock that was burying itself inside you with abandon. 
“should’ve known you couldn’t be quiet,” he said, cocky tone to his voice as he broke the kiss, you could feel his smirk as it smeared across your wet lips, simultaneously offering you a particularly harsh thrust. 
you yelped then through a broken moan you said, “it’s y–our fault, you fuck like a god.” 
“you see why i wanted to wait, then,” he snickered as he sat up, long fingers wrapping around your ankles to place them on his shoulders. his hand fell to lay along your stomach, drilling himself inside you and you lost it, the back of your head pressing into your pillows, your last semblance of control gone. 
he leans forward with your legs on his shoulders at a quick speed, hand moving from your stomach to clasp over your mouth and you whimper into his palm. his voice is breathless, “consequences of your own actions, brat.” 
you cry out into his hand, noise muffled as he pistols inside you, hips stopping just before they can snap against your own, balls deep inside you and he had so much control. you wondered how he managed, you clearly had none after his cock had blatantly intoxicated you, you didn’t care if anyone heard you at this point. 
he lets your mouth go, pulling out of you swiftly just to flip you over, hands scooping under your body as if you weighed nothing. you had no time to whine in protest as his palm pushes your head into the pillows, cock filling you right back up. you scream into the pillow as he reaches deeper, you feel him in your stomach. 
“there we go,” you hear from behind you, his voice sounding too far away, “now you have no choice but to behave.” 
he positions his cock to hit that same spot with the new angle, pressing against it with such precision and rhythm you felt the pit in your stomach returning in just two thrusts. your hand reaches beneath your body, between your legs that just slightly opened up between his thighs, rubbing quick circles into your clit. 
“gonna cum already?” he sounds taunting behind you, hands squeezing your ass, spreading your cheeks so he could watch his cock relentlessly bully your cunt. it felt so fucking filthy but so hot— you rubbed your clit faster. 
“go ahead baby, show me — cum around this cock,” you could hear the hint of desperation in his voice, he was close too. you couldn’t form words as your orgasm approached with force, thighs shaking between his own, shamelessly drooling into your pillows as incoherent babbles left your lips. 
he gave your ass a harsh slap as his cock carved into you and it was enough to push you over the edge, burying your face in your pillows as everything clenched. he grunted, his voice strained as he attempted to be quiet himself — “f-fuck, yes, that’s it.” 
your orgasm was so long and so intense, he fucked you through it, losing his control as his hips finally clapped into the cheeks of your ass, chasing his own high. you turned your head, catching your breath, sounding as fucked out as you probably looked as you said, “cum for me, gyu, wish you were filling me up.” 
he gasped, splitting you in half as he brought himself to orgasm, stilling inside you with a moan as he unloaded into the condom. you wore a weak smile — you weren’t lying, the only thing you could think was that you wish you could feel the warmth, the fullness of him coming inside. it seemed he wished the same with how quickly he finished after you said it. 
“i hope no one heard,” was the first thing out of his mouth as he slowly pulled out, you whimpered at the loss — you were positive you’d never feel that full again. 
“it’s fine,” your voice was raw, too tired and too spent to turn over. you felt him slide off the bed, watched as he tied up the condom and threw it in the trash, smiled as he picked up yunho’s sweatpants from the floor. 
“you okay? need water or anything?” he asked as he pulled them up his legs — you were right, the sweatpants fit him perfectly. 
“water,” you mumbled, your pupils still the only thing moving, watching him silently as he reached for your water bottle that sat on your desk. 
he joined you back in bed, scooping you up in his arms to place you on his front, holding the water bottle in front of your face so you could drink from the straw. 
“did i break you?” he asked, amusement lacing his words, you could hear his thoughts— you still felt somewhere else entirely, definitely not in your room with a drool covered cheek on his bare chest. 
you hummed in response, eyes falling shut. you laid like that for awhile, cheek pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he mindlessly played with your hair, fingers scratching at your scalp. 
“come back to me, i’m getting nervous,” he said after some time, his heartbeat quickening with his words. 
“i’m okay, still processing,” your voice was light, hopefully comforting, “you just fucked my brains out, just wanna lay like this.” 
his chuckle was deep from his chest, flat against your ear as his hands moved to your bare back, tracing circles along your skin. he sighed — “let me clean you up, put some clothes on you, then we’ll get back in bed and put on your show.” 
you whined, but agreed nonetheless, the air of your bedroom turned cold against your skin that was quickly losing its heat. you had never been more grateful for a bathroom attached to your bedroom as you were right now, a shirtless mingyu running you a bath, sitting on the tiled floor as you soaked in the warmth of the water. you talked the whole time, about the sex, about your likes and dislikes, the conversation was open and honest. you wouldn’t expect mingyu to be a kinky guy, and he wasn’t beside his slightly dominating nature. 
he didn’t consider himself inherently dominant, it wasn’t a trait he had across the board, only something that came out of him with you. you didn’t know if you were naturally submissive or if it was something that just came out with him— you were still exploring sexually, you opened up about your past with frat guys, how someone else just made you cum for the first time mere weeks ago. he took it all in with open arms and zero judgement, he told you that you should never be with someone who didn’t care about your needs, didn’t respect you enough to get you off, too. 
the bath brought you back to reality, but your talk with mingyu brought you down to earth. it still amazed you how easily the two of you communicated, how comfortable it is to share things with him that you would only share with the other boys, if not more. he carried you back to your bed bridal style— he insisted, he also insisted on pulling pajama pants up your legs, an oversized tee shirt over your head.
“brookhaven college? you go to crest university, don’t you?” he asked as he pulled the cotton over your head, reading the print across the front. 
you looked down at the shirt then back up to him, “this is yunho’s, i don’t know how it made its way into my laundry, must’ve gotten confused with the clothes he keeps here.” 
“ah, the tall and broody one?” he questions as you both crawl into your bed, settling beneath your comforter. 
“he’s not usually brooding, i don’t know what was up with him tonight,” you say through a yawn, cuddling into mingyu’s armpit, laying your head on his bare chest again. 
he was silent for a moment before he asked, “have you ever had a… thing with any of them?” 
you picked your head up from his chest, staring at him with a shocked and disgusted look plastered across your face. “never ask me that question again, hell no.” 
he raised an eyebrow. “i’ll ask a different one then — have they ever liked you? crushes on each other growing up, anything of the sort?”
“mingyu, they are the last humans on earth you need to worry about, they’re all extensions of ace to me. other brothers,” you said, your face completely serious. “they’ve never looked at me like that, i will never look at them like that, period.”
he pauses again — “alright.” 
he didn’t fully believe you, that much was clear, but there was no way to prove your innocence or your honesty, so you let it go. instead you reached for the TV remote and turned on your show, getting comfortable on mingyu’s skin once again, letting the topic of conversation leave you both fully. 
one of the couples in the show was in the midst of marital issues: she had gotten married young, divorced early into her marriage, remarried someone else and had kids just for her ex husband to come back into her life later on, leaving her conflicted. 
being someone who speaks over every show or movie on a screen, you blabbed, irritation in your tone. “if she had just waited to marry him, this never would’ve happened in the first place.”
“i disagree.” you looked at him with eyebrows raised, silently telling him to explain. “i think everything happens for a reason, she learned so much about herself and what she wants through her second marriage— filling in all the gaps that she was missing with her first husband. he’s a learning experience.” 
you contemplated it, “she could’ve learned all those things with him if she had just taken her time and not rushed it, she went through so much shit just to be back at square one.” 
“but then she wouldn’t have her kids,” mingyu argued, “even if she married him down the line, they wouldn’t have grown as individuals. all the things she’s learned are because of her second husband.” 
“so you think she was right in divorcing him?” you popped a brow, leaning off his chest to stare at him, “even though they were perfect together and came back to each other anyways.” 
“i think they came back to each other because they were meant to be,” his eyes were trained on the TV at the end of your bed, “it wasn’t their time yet, there was more the both of them needed to learn before they could have a healthy relationship without regrets.” 
he took a pause before he continued, looking at you now, “she reminds me of my ex-fiancée.” 
you sat up, shock written all over your face, “you were engaged?” 
he sighed, sliding his body up your pillows so he was sitting up a little straighter, “when i was twenty five, i popped the question after four years of dating. she was with me through some of the darkest parts of my life, i popped the question when i finally came out of everything, when i was stable again.” 
“we were engaged for a year until she broke it off,” he shrugged, “said she was too young, she wasn’t ready even though we were both twenty six.” 
you blink at him — “so the woman in the show reminds you of her, and you think the couple were meant to come back together after they both remarried.” 
you could hear the gears turning in his head before his eyes widened. “do not think too deeply into that, it’s just a coincidence. our first disagreement is not about to be over a netflix original.” 
your arms cross over your chest, voice coming off stern. “maybe we should talk about it, because why would you even say that to me?”
his eyes close, lips forming a thin line. “i had to tell you eventually, it’s been four years since we broke things off and i’ve dated plenty of women since i was with her. i am fully healed from that relationship, she lives across the country with her husband now.” 
his words sit with you, and not in a comforting way. “are you looking to get married? like, soon…?”
he looks at you as if he could see through you. “you’re twenty two, my love, i’m not rushing anything with you. i’ll get married when it’s right.” 
his words were supposed to make you feel better but they don’t— mingyu was ready to get married five years ago. he could’ve had a family by now, three kids and a dog if he wanted to. you hadn’t even graduated yet, you hadn’t even began student teaching— you had years to go before you’d be ready to have a ring around your finger, even if that was the goal eventually. you didn’t want to hold him back. 
mingyu could feel your shift in mood, feel your uneasiness, within moments he was pulling you in close, lips catching your own, freeing you from your thoughts. it took little to no time until he was rocking into you again, bodies pressed against each other, tongue licking into your mouth until he made you forget what you were feeling entirely. 
the thoughts didn’t come back until you were tangled in each other, sweaty and half asleep with your blankets half covering your bodies. you tried to push them away, turn your brain off but you couldn’t. 
all you wanted was a boyfriend for thanksgiving — kim mingyu wanted a wife.
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8fd masterlist | masterlist
tags :p @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore @skzswife @dawn-iscozy @yusalterego @velvetring00
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v1rtualsalvat10n · 1 day ago
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𓆩♡𓆪 how to tell you goodbye
— weeks after his mysterious disappearance, lu shows up at your door with a message for you.
notes :: TW FOR DUBCON. uh yeah I find the idea of him apologizing for doing what he has to do very hot. f!reader sorry guys this is self indulgent
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You don't remember how long it's been.
But you know it'd been long enough for you to stop wondering if he was actually coming back or not, and try to cope with that fact. He was gone - there was very little doubt in your mind about that. He'd stopped responding to calls and messages, his socials went cold, his friends, at least the ones you knew, hadn't heard anything either.
He disappeared. And the last thing you ever heard from him was that he was planning on doing something... real. But he never told you what. He could be dead for all you know, and there was nothing you could do about it.
It took a pretty big toll on you. He was one of the few friends you had, and just like that he was gone. Just when things were looking up for you, your support system just had to vanish into thin air. You missed him, fuck, you missed him more than anything. You missed your little coffee shop dates, the weekend parties, playing games in your apartment when it was lonely, sitting in the park together just talking for hours.
You miss those little looks he gave you when he thought you weren't looking, the way that some of your mannerisms made him smile, the nights where your conversations would get real and you'd cry on his shoulder when it was too much for you. You miss how he'd let you.
You missed the moment when he made you look at him, and wiped your tears with his thumb, letting the tension between you two linger for longer than it should. You missed his warm, shaky breath against your cheek. But you missed the most that moment when you felt his lips on yours, just for that few seconds.
You didn't miss the way he seemed to have regretted it after.
But you remembered that the clearest of all... watching the guilt in his eyes set in as he moved away from you, standing from your couch and rushing for his bags, saying that "it was getting late" or some lie like that. You remembered how he didn't even look back at you as he walked out of your door.
And that was the last day you saw him. He texted you the next morning.
"Hey, I probably won't be able to see you for a while. Working on stuff. Gonna do something real with my life."
What the fuck did that even mean? It made you angry, irrationally so. It probably only made you angry because you thought it was your fault. But god dammit, that felt valid! You felt like you had a fair reason to be pissed. It was no secret you liked him - it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out either! He'd do something like that so carelessly, and then just throw you out?
You hated it. Maybe you'd feel better with an explanation, but the truth of the matter is that he kissed you and then mysteriously disappeared, not to be seen again. And how were you not supposed to make assumptions in that situation?
And so you'd spend your days by yourself. With no more Luigi to rely on to keep you from spiraling, you'd been curled up in your room by yourself, scrolling through his social media posts, rereading your message logs to see if there's something you'd missed.
You had a jacket of his he left at your place, and every night you'd wrap a pillow in it and breathe in the mix of cologne and his natural scent until it lulled you to sleep.
It wasn't enough. You wish he'd come back, but even if he did, what was there to say? Even if he apologized, you didn't know that you'd forgive him.
That is, until he actually did come back.
No, surely that was just wishful thinking - that knock was probably a salesman or someone stupid like that coming to bother you. You dragged yourself up from your bed and slowly approached the door, groaning to yourself before putting on a fake smile to answer it.
And sure enough, there he was. Cold and scruffy looking, his clothes ruffled and his hair matted, bags under his eyes. He pushed you inside, and slammed the door behind himself.
He kissed you again. But this time he didn't hesitate, and he wasn't gentle - he threw himself onto you, your lips messily colliding with his as he leaned into it, diving his tongue into your mouth. His hands slid down to your hips, grabbing the waistband of your sweatpants so tight it was like he might fall off the Earth if he let go.
The kiss was sloppy and desperate, and he hungrily pushed it as far as you'd let it go, which was admittedly pretty far. But then the shock faded, and you pressed your hands to his chest, shoving him back. He was weak enough that he fell back into the door, leaning against it to prevent from fully toppling over.
"What the fuck?!"
You'd never yelled at him before. Never even thought about getting upset with him. His face turned fearful, as he steadied himself and tried to walk forwards again. You took a step back for the one he took forwards.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Who do you think you are, fucking with me like this?!"
His expression shifted. He just stared at you, blankly, either too tired or too numb to show any emotion anymore. And fuck, that only made you angrier. "You think this is funny? I was worried you could be dead, and now you just- show up, months later, looking like this? Why didn't you say something? You just- just-"
"I'll explain everything. Just... I really... missed you."
"Yeah? You didn't miss me enough to at least give me a heads up that you were alive!" You hid your face in your hands, sighing deeply trying to contain yourself. What reasonable explanation could there possibly be? You couldn't reason with him surely.
You hear him step forwards, and he places his hands on your hips again. You reach down to pull him off of you, but the moment you move your hands away from your face, he's pressing more kisses to your lips. He holds you tighter, his arms wrapping around you. "Get off me," you growl, but he doesn't listen.
He kisses your neck, his warm breath shaking profusely. "Luigi," you say, and he can't even look up at you. You yank one of his hands off, only for him to put it back on you with more force than the last time. "I said get off!"
"Let me make it up to you," he begs you, his gaze meeting yours as he walked you forwards, pushing you onto the couch. You try to stand, but he's quicker, and he straddles you, hovering over you and pushing you down by your shoulders. He stops looking you in the eyes, too embarrassed at what he was doing.
"Luigi, stop! I'm trying to talk to you, god dammit!" He doesn't listen. He can't. He's already straining his jeans, grinding his hips into yours. It's warm. He's warm, and fuck, you can't lie to yourself. You missed this feeling. You missed the feeling of something real being there with you. You missed him.
Your body betrays you, and you softly rock your hips forwards into his, swearing under your breath. He smiles softly, cupping one of your hips in his hand. "It's okay. I know you missed this." He looked at you, a weird sincerity in his eyes, considering what he was actually doing.
"I'm not messing around. This- this isn't funny. Let go of me." At some point you had stopped struggling without noticing, and you squirmed again, causing him to push more of his weight down onto you. He spoke softly to you. "Shh, it's okay... It's okay, I promise I won't take long. Promise, promise."
He muttered some words in Italian, something that sounded along the lines of a prayer as he rutted into you, yanking your hips up to get more friction. "Stop it," you say again, covering your face with one of your hands.
The truth is that you'd dreamed of this moment for so long. So very long. You'd dreamed of what it would feel like when he finally touched you, his skin on yours, giving you all he had to give. But fuck, not like this, not like this-
He finished with whatever he was reciting, and slipped his fingers under your waistband, along with the one of your panties and tugged them down. You pressed your thighs together, but he was stronger than you and pushed them apart, leaving you exposed for him.
"You're beautiful..." He stared down at you, leaving a crimson shade on your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just... I felt like I had to tell you goodbye." Your eyes widened as he said that, and you shook your head. "What are you talking about? Luigi, I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere either. You don't have to do this, please-"
By the time you finished, he was already unbuckling his belt, the sound of the buckle clinking against itself making you shiver. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, rubbing himself against your folds. He was big. Bigger than you expected. Big enough that it looked like this might leave you sore.
You tried to scoot back, but he reached for you and pulled you closer than you were before, gasping at the feeling of your wetness against his cock. He'd longed for this forever, maybe even since the moment he'd first laid eyes on you. It felt like heaven to him, despite how dirty he felt - despite the fact that he knew it was wrong.
Something about you looking down on him for this only made him harder.
He lined himself up with your entrance and parted you with just his tip, his nails sinking into your hips as he did. "Fuck," he whimpered, "I'm so sorry, amore."
And with that, he slid into you slowly. You sighed in relief, only to cry out when he was so overwhelmed by pleasure that he slammed himself into you as deep as he could manage, rolling his hips into you.
Fuck. You could feel him pressing against your cervix. His breath shook as he panted heavily, shutting his eyes tightly as he pulled out nearly all the way, only to slam back into you. He swore, leaving bruises on your sides from how hard he was holding you. It hurt but you didn't care.
He kept up this brutal force, moving all the way out just so he could thrust deep into you again. It took him a while to speed up just because he was so overstimulated by it. But when he did, he fucked you like a wild animal, slamming his hips into yours, the obscene sound of his skin hitting yours filling your apartment.
You looked up at him, who still had his eyes closed out of shame. You couldn't help but imagine what he saw behind his eyelids, what he was imagining as he fucked you in earnest. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he fought against them. "I'm sorry," he muttered, over and over again. He couldn't stop apologizing.
"It's- it's okay, it's okay... fuck-! I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you... oh god..."
That was too much for him. Your acceptance, that unconditional love of yours, the fact that he could do this, and you would still understand, pushed him over, and tears streamed down his cheeks.
His hands frantically slid up your sides as he leaned down onto you, both your chests pressed together, getting as much of his skin on yours as possible. He ran his fingers up and down you, committing every hill and valley to memory. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you. I promise you. I promise."
He kept mindlessly apologizing as he used you, controlled by his own need. There was no stopping him now, and you didn't want to. He was beautiful even like this, even at his lowest point. You knew that you loved him in this moment.
"I'm gonna cum, please, please... I'm sorry, I need it, please, baby-" He kept babbling through his tears, which fell onto your cheeks. You closed your eyes softly, leaning into his touch, pressing your lips to his.
He devoured you in an instant, the kiss deeper than before, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. "Perdonami, ti prego," he begged, speaking inbetween breaths.
"Lu," you cooed. "Go ahead. It's alright."
As soon as you commanded him, his eyes shot open and he threw his head back as he rammed into your cervix, spilling himself deep inside of you, his body shaking as he did. You tightened around him, the feeling of him finally letting himself go enough to make you cum too, as you called out his name.
He stayed tensed up over you for a moment, his arms struggling to hold his weight as his eyes shut, and he collapsed on top of you, his face in your chest. He started to sob, gripping you tight, one of his hands going down to entangle with yours. "I'm so sorry, amore," he repeated, over and over, "I'm sorry"s falling from his lips.
You pressed him closer, free hand stroking his hair softly as he crumbled in your arms. "It's okay. I forgive you."
"Please don't hold it against me."
"We'll figure it out, okay, Lu? We'll figure it out, together. Me and you. Because I love you."
"I love you too.... No matter what happens, remember that I love you."
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lunajay33 · 3 days ago
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My Princess
•🪽🦇💙•
Summary: You are Feyres sister and have always been shy but when everything happens and you and your sisters become Fae, you find yourself falling in love with the mysterious shadow brother
Pairing: Azriel x Feyres sister
Content: Sneaking around, fluff, smut, getting caught
•Masterlist•
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I never thought much about how my life would turn out, living in a run down home with my three sisters and father gave me no hope for what could come, I thought I would die young of either illness or starvation, I always tried to help Feyre when I could just to help and get away from Nesta and Elain, they never liked me much, I am I second youngest and they liked to point out every flaw of mine
But then one day everything changed when we were kidnapped and thrown into a cauldron changing out forms, from human to far, Nesta took an immense amount of power, Elain could feel the future and me, well I haven’t shown anyone what I’ve discovered, I can morphe into the shadows, dissapear whenever I want, it came in hand when Nesta would get in one of her fits with who ever dared step up to her
But then one night as I was slipping into the shadows I met the most adorable little tendrils of shadow that seemed were alive, they were all over me swirling around with what I assumed was joy as they led me to Azriel, he was quiet like me and I found comfort in that silence but never had the never to approach him until the shadows brought me right into his room, as I’m in the shadow of his book shelf
Noticing him straighten up and peer around as his shadows spoke to him
“I know you’re here” my heart leapt, I shifted back into my fae solid form and stood before him nervously
“So you are gifted after all” he stood infront of me, shirtless showing his broad shoulders and ripped body
“Ummm yeah, please don’t tell the others”
“And why not?” I shrugged unsure of why I had to explain my reasonings only making him smirk
“You’re not like your sisters, you’re…….different”
“Different bad?”
“No different good, you’re intriguing and mysterious, you don’t put everyone out there”
From that day forward we kept our nightly meetings between eachother and it was sooooo easy, sneaking through the shadows right to his room, we started just talking and getting to know eachother but along the way I fell for him, how could I not he’s so beautiful inside and out and one night when all the others were busy getting drunk at a bar I felt my soul meld with his and his mine
That night we accepted the bond and we haven’t been able to stop, it’s been a week and our hunger for eachother hasn’t been quenched and it’s getting harder to hide this relationship
“Do you think we should tell the others?” I ask him as we catch our breathes, my head resting in his shoulder, his hand dragging up and down my back
“If that’s what you want my angel, but I can’t say sneaking around doesn’t make things more hot” he smirks as he grips my hip
“Maybe just a little longer” I giggle as I turn and straddle his legs laying forward on his chest
“Ready for more already?” His voice got deeper sending shivers down my spine
“Are you able to” I love to tease him knowing he has taken me multiple times in one night
“Please woman” he grabs my hips and grinds them up and down his hardening dick, I’ve heard about the girls talking about the comparison between wingspans but there is absolutely no way Rhys or Cassian could be bigger than my man, he nearly splits me apart
“I love you Azriel” I moan as he slowly stretches me out
“Not as much as I love you Angel, fuck you feel so good” at this angle he was just hitting every part just right it was impossible to keep quiet
“Oh god more I want more” I scream when he thrusts up into me faster and faster
“OH AZRIEL YES RIGHT THERE” I scream not even caring right now who here’s
“So good, mother above I’ll never get enough of you” right as I’m about to be in heaven the door bursts open and everyone in the group is standing there wide eyed and mouths hanging
“Ummmm what the hell is going on” Nesta shouts anger written all over her face
Azriel sits up and holds me closer covering my body
“Can we have a moment to get decent” he groans his shadows pushing the others out and slamming the door
“I’m nervous, did you see the way Nesta and Elain were looking at me?” He pulled out and helped put his shirt on me as he pulled on his own sweatpants
“Don’t worry it’ll be fine come on!” He took my hand and led me downstairs to where everyone was sat around in the living room
“Congrats brother!” Cassian congratulated Azriel patting him on the back
“How long has this been going on?” Feyre asks with a little smile as she sat next to Rhys
“Well we’ve been talking for a while at night but then last week our mating bond happened and we accepted immediately” I say holding his hand tighter
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rhys asked
“Obviously she knows she’s not good enough to be with him I mean look at her” Nesta laughed, I hung my head low before Azriel pulled me in at the waist
“Watch your mouth, don’t think I can’t destroy your life just because you’re the high ladies sister
“She’s not wrong” Elain whispered but we all heard
“That’s enough they had their reasons and it’s their relationship, Nesta and Elain you need to leave her alone I’ve had enough of you two always bashing on her just because you know she’s better than you, I’m happy for you sister” Feyre smiles
“You can go to the family cabin if you wish while still in your mating faze” Rhys adds looking happy for his brother the next instant in standing in the cabin Azriel holding me tight from behind
“You know they’re not right, your as pretty as the stars” he says placing kisses up my neck
“Thank you Az, now how about we get back to what we started”
“Don’t have to ask me twice”
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fict1onallyobsessed · 20 hours ago
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Just watched act 1 and I'm actually feral for Sevika. Like omg what?! How is she so hot?! Anyway I've had this idea of sharing a smoke with her. Specially shotgunning. Um. Yeah. Anyway maybe that would turn into something a bit more - NSFW should we say. Definitely biting. You know what I'm talking about lol anyway this isn't a lot to work with I know.. I just saw your post asking for Sevika requests so I figured I'd pop in
Sevika x F!Reader 18+
Her lungs burnt as she inhaled her cigar, watching you fix her arm for the hundredth time this week. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, screwdriver carefully pulling out the broken metal parts in her arm, clinking in the silence.
She could feel your frustration before she even entered your little mechanic shop. People were being more demanding for fixes as Zaun practically relied on prosthetic limbs, and you were rated the best one for the job. Sometimes you felt like a pawn; people didn't even pay that well. You might have to think of increasing the prices...
"You think too much."
You sighed, looking up at your girlfriend who huffed out smoke through her nose. She knew you were busy, and a part of her felt bad last time you stayed late to fix her arm, so she tried really hard to keep it in a manageable state for longer than usual.
Heavy on tried.
"You should learn how to fight." You snapped back playfully, looking back down at the arm for the final few fixes. The arm hissed and popped once, finally being fully functional again. "Even Ran doesn't come in this often. Might have to start charging you."
Sevika scoffed as she watched you stand up to toss your tools onto your very littered desk, your hands coming up to wipe your tired face.
"You're processor is fried. I'll make you a new one soon, but this one should hold up if you can hold off fighting for a few days."
She was listening but all she could focus on is how exhausted your eyes looked. She asked if you were done for the day, if you wanted to go home but you were already backlogged for weeks with new projects and fixes. You politely declined, walking over to her again and taking the cigar from her lips only to put it in your own mouth.
Sevika didn't flinch. It was something you did often, especially on nights where you needed something to keep you awake for a little longer.
Sevika sat on the small couch, looking up at you as you inhaled, smoke escaping your nose before you even got to exhale. She thought for a moment, then grabbed the back on your thighs and pulled you to straddle her.
"'Vika, I need to get-"
"To work. I know." She casually said, taking the cigar from your hands and inhaling deeply herself. Her eyes remained on yours while her hand reached up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you up to her lips.
For a second you thought she was going to kiss you, like she did always in thanks when you fix her up. But instead, she stopped you right before her face, hand now moving to open your mouth with her thumb. Then she exhaled.
You felt dizzy. You had smoked plenty of times, and since meeting Sevika you smoked plenty more. But this was so intoxicating it felt better than any cigarette you've ever tried.
You relaxed on her lap, sinking onto her as you tried to breathe normally. Her mechanic hand held your waist, the other firmly on your jaw to keep it open against her mouth. Just as the smoke began to fade, she pulled you fully against her, lips clashing together in a kiss.
You pulled away only when you felt you couldn't breathe, both of your chests rising and falling as you stared down at Sevika, her pupils blown wide, devouring you.
Work could wait.
You grabbed the cigar back, inhaling so deeply you felt your throat close up momentarily. Still, you leaned down and grabbed her jaw while her hands fell to your hips, gripping tightly to pull you even closer.
You exhaled the smoke as slowly as you could, relishing in the moment for a while before the smoke faded again. You wasted no time in kissing her again, a slight moan escaping your lips and into her mouth. You could taste the smoke in her mouth but it only seemed to rile you up more.
Your hips bucked, unintentionally, and you felt Sevika smirk into the kiss.
"That's all it takes to get you going?" Sevika teased. You replied with a breathy and rushed 'shut up' before going back to her lips, rocking your hips more now she was aware of your intentions. Her grip on you tightened, moving you so that you were straddling one of her thighs.
You really tried to keep your groans in, but the way your clit was grinding against the inside of your jeans. Fuck.
"Fuck. Do it again." You lifted the cigar to her lips, making her inhale it and letting her grab your jaw once more, shot gunning the smoke right into your mouth. You tried to breathe steadily, but her hand made you grind on her thigh more.
"So fucking pretty. Barely touched you and you're gonna cum already?"
You were so fucking close, a whine leaving your lips as you hid your face in the crook of her neck. She could feel the small puffs of air you breathed, trying to maintain some kind of control. Your teeth nipped at her skin, her own composure slowly failing.
You huffed when she accidentally made a sound when you bit into her neck. Your hips stuttered and bucked uncontrollably as you came, lips remaining at her skin until you were stable enough to pull away.
"That's all it takes to get you going?" You teased, mocking her words as angry red marks appeared on her neck. She was flushed and panting, your hips still held by her hands. She smirked, kissing you again before standing up and making you stand on your wobbly legs.
"Home. Now."
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littlemissclandestine · 2 days ago
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ASK: ahhh i’m obsessed w ur adler headcanons!! pretty pretty plsss could we have more soft!adler headcanons? or maybe a few headcanons for how adler might react to realising he’s slowly falling for bell!reader before they discover the brainwash twist?? 🥺👉👈 either way just wanna express my appreciation for how you characterise him!! <3
Author's Note: Tehe back at it idk. This was an ask I got months ago but just had incredibly bad writer's and art block. Trying to get those creative juices flowing again! Thank you so much for the ask and the kind comments anon. I really really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy! <3 (your ask disappeared after i put it into Tumblr drafts??)
More Soft!Adler Headcanons:
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In the morning before work, Russell wakes up a little earlier than you to spend some more time on his appearance. You see him shaving his few day old stubble and decide to help him out, taking the razor. He’d study your facial expression as you concentrate on going round each jagged edge of his scar, making sure to not cut him. His blue eyes tracing every little mark on your face, absolutely in awe of how beautiful you are even when you furrow your brows and he’d gently push a strand or two of hair out the way that had fallen over your eye. As you rinse the blade under the tap, he’d grab your chin and peck your lips, getting the taste of shaving foam in your mouth and you two would laugh about it.
I can imagine in Winter, Russell and his s/o ordering hot chocolate with some cream on top/coffee, walking and talking. When he notices your cream/foam moustache, he chuckles to himself but you pay it no mind, thinking it was his response to something you said. But he chuckles again and you question him. -> “Oh uh nothing. You just uh…got a little um...hold on.” He’d lean in and lick your lips before planting a kiss on them and leaning back to look at you with a smile, leaving you dumbfounded.
Witty jokes and comments that make you think how the hell did he come up with that one are definitely on the menu. Russell will sometimes randomly just burst into Russian or German mode and will try and teach you some words and jokes too. Mostly the swear words because everybody wants to know the swear words 
Adler and his fellow operatives were chatting one day in public with their gear on as they were on their way back to a hotel for the night before their early morning flight but the sight of kids running up to him caught his eye. They asked him questions, the usual ones, the story behind the scar and what he does for a living. At first, he wasn’t exactly the warmest towards them but when one of the kids begged him to pick them up, he grumbled and gave in, watching them just take his sunglasses and the other asking if they could touch the scar, earning a smile from him. Him an his group sat down and spent some time kicking a ball around and taking the time out for the children before they had to head back. Adler gave them all fistbumps and bent down to plant a cap on one of their heads with a wink and a side smile -> “Keep it. I don’t need it, kid.”
Slowly falling for Bell!Reader Headcanons: Part 1
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Russell Adler didn’t think it was possible to be honest. Him falling for another person. Always thought of himself as a lone wolf after his divorce. Never took any interest in dates or anything because he simply didn’t have the time and partly due to a fear of being hurt again that he refused to acknowledge
Yet he found himself weirdly drawn to you. Maybe it was a sick and twisted fantasy of his, the visage of him being a human, cracking with every fleeting touch. The true monster in him seeping out, revealing his true colours
When he picked you up and out of the SUV in Trabzon, he felt nothing. Perhaps some sense of accomplishment as he was one step closer to locating the man he’d been chasing for 13 years but nothing more. As the initial interrogations continued in a secure location and your balaclava was yanked off by his own hands, a part of him knew he’d get attached when he saw you, in your rawest form  but he quickly pushed that thought away as fast as it appeared in his mind. But it’d creep up every now and then during the experimentation as he’d speak into the microphone and exhale the smoke through his nose as he stared at you through the glass, watching you carefully before dipping his head as he hears you let out a gut-wrenching scream and struggle in the chair, putting out his cigarette and calling it a day.
He’d catch a whiff of your perfume nearby to where he was working in the safehouse. The perfume on your wrists stayed behind on the desk after your leaned over to pass him something or rested your forearms on the desk. The subtle scent of your shampoo and body wash in the bathroom, lingering in the air. He’d inhale deeply and close his eyes, imagining you as his head resting on the back of his chair for a few moments before he stopped himself and his eyes snapped open, making sure nobody was nearby as if he was scared someone could read his thoughts.
A candle you’d left on for him as he worked late into the night once was never forgotten. Adler would relight it to remind himself of you when you were gone on a mission with the others, telling himself it’s just because it smells nice.
A Brick in the Wall: As Bell took photos of Kraus, Russell would glance over at her, watch you paying attention, adjusting the camera lens, sticking your tongue out as the camera shutter clicked and a small smile would creep onto his lips before he looked away and cleared his throat, giving you your next order. God, what was he thinking?
Some things however were just pure protective instinct. Like grabbing your forearm to pull you away from the railing as you stepped up onto to look over the edge of a balcony at night. He needed you alive for the mission of course, no other reason
 Or when he’d tuck his extra magazines into your ammo packs and make sure all your straps and harness were tight enough. Or even holding his arm out and across your chest when he had to hit the brakes hard while driving with a gentle you okay? after a few beats of silence
Or when he’d bought some food and you were out of it after an MK-Ultra session during the early days and he’d give you a little extra without a word to keep your strength up, looking into your eyes briefly as you cried but the guilt was creeping up on him and he’d leave before you sobbed. He’d close the door just as you burst into tears, his hand on the doorknob behind him and he’d sigh deeply, his eyes shut, trying to compose himself before walking off to find Park. They’re just a red. He’d remind himself constantly. But just a kid too…
Desperate Measures: As Belikov let the two of you in and you took out the guards and changed into their uniforms, he couldn’t help but sneak a few glances. Before you walked up the stairs, he stopped you and checked you over, head to toe, the expression on his face neutral but his mind was in overdrive. Russell took a step closer and his hands found the bottom of your skirt and tugged on it, pulling it down so it revealed less. A single nod and his lips a thin line before he turned and walked off. He refused to admit he didn’t want anyone looking at you the way he did.
He finds himself a little self conscious. This isn’t like him..since when was Russell motherfuckin’ Adler worried about the way he was perceived by a red of all people? Putting more aftershave on himself, a spray of cologne to mask the smell of cigarettes that had found its way into his clothing after years of the bad habit. A quick check in the mirror to adjust his outfit and hair before pushing the bridge of his sunglasses up and into place
Safe to say, you took him by surprise. He was of course impressed by your combat and cryptography skills as well as endurance during MK-Ultra, thinking it was such a shame you were on the wrong side. Began thinking of what-ifs…
After one particularly gruelling session, you were screaming and refusing to take the pills that Park was giving you to help you sleep, saying they made you want to vomit and the anti-sickness was not doing anything but Park explained that she couldn’t do much about it. Russell heard this from the other side of the door as he walked past your room late at night, telling Sims to source a different medicine he knew of. The next day, he entered your room as you wailed again, thrashing against your cot and he adminstered a dose, barely speaking to you before leaving again but as you clutched his hand, he rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand before letting go. Your touch overwhelmed him.
When he’d see you hang out and play poker or some board games with the others as he was filing reports and chasing up contacts, a tiny frown would form on his face, he’d start picking at the skin on his lips as he watched them or he’d look down and dust his pants off or fiddle with a pen, anything to distract himself from the green-eyed monster
If he heard you singing a song in the other room, he’d put it on for you in the car without a word spoken, you just staring at Adler as if to say how did you know that?
On one chilly night, you fell asleep in the dark room and Adler stood there in the doorway, looking at you, your breathing steady, face rid of anguish and you looked at peace in the red light. Slowly, he made his way over and draped his jacket round your shoulders, thinking to himself it’s just what any decent person would do. Can’t have his tool catching a cold now…
During stakeouts, Russell would start telling you random facts about himself he’s never told another person, saying to himself you’ll be gone soon anyways, that you were an outsider so that’s why it was easier to talk to you.
This feeling he had only seemed to grow with each mission. Instead of letting the others help you out when injured, he’d grip your shoulder as soon as they got in, steering you towards the nearest stool before anyone had a chance to say anything and command you to sit, treating you like the dog you are while he fetched the supplies.
As the weeks passed, he’d take you to your room and patch you up there, wanting some one-on-one time with you, making casual conversation, half to distract you from the pain and half to suppress the thoughts going round in his mind about being so close to losing you
He made you laugh once or twice and couldn’t stop thinking about it. It sounded even better than when Woods or the other crew members made you laugh and it made him smile to which you pointed out but he stood up and left shortly after, his standard, stoic expression returning to his face
Adler would stay up on a few occasions to make sure you slept, scanning your face as the pills began to take effect, his arms folded as he stood, looming over you, his finger scratching at his arm even though it wasn’t itchy. It was just unease which he consistently pushed down but he noticed he was getting more fidgety when it came to you. Almost like the guilt was eating him from the inside out. He’d take off his watch, place his cigs on the side and settle into a chair, telling himself it’s just for a few minutes but once he did stay the whole night, leaving before the others woke up. Nobody ever knew
If you ever asked about your time together as friends and during Vietnam when you’d having trouble remembering, he’d keep it short and sweet, but every now and then he’d make up something that was what he wished it would have been like. Nothing too out there.
During mission briefings, he’d find himself laying his attention on you the most as he talked, wanting to know you were really listening to him and secretly asking for your input too and once the others had returned to what they were doing before, he’d pull you to the side, asking you if you were okay with the plan and if there’s anything you need to go over. I mean, you were the main star of course so it makes sense but his hand would reach for your upper arm and then retract. Boundaries, Adler…
One thing that killed him though was the fact that you only ever grabbed him out of fear, during MK-Ultra when you didn’t want him to leave, when in agony from a gunshot wound, or just as you dropped off to sleep after he injected your when you were being disobedient. Couldn’t admit he wanted you to grab onto him in desperation as he- Get a grip, Adler! When did he start thinking of you like that?
After Cuba, he felt nothing. No sense of accomplishment yet as he was one step further away from locating the man he’d been chasing for 13 years but now he was two steps closer to saying goodbye to you for good…
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sinnabarmoth · 3 days ago
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Tribute for the Dragon (6/18)
Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader
Summary: After the events of the hot spring you take to avoiding Sylus. It goes well until your accidentally wander somewhere you shouldn't have been.
Content Warnings: Adult language.
Length: 2k
Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (7) (8)
Read on AO3
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“I am going to hurl myself off the mountain.” you muttered into your pillow. “I’m really gonna do it. I can’t go back out there and face him now. My only option is death now.”
You had been hiding back in your bedroom since that morning. You knew you technically had duties but you could not bring yourself to leave the room. When you thought about what happened back in the hot spring your entire body got heated.
It was one thing to have your own little forbidden fantasies that confused you but it was another to actually live them! You couldn’t act like Sylus wasn’t attractive. He was. If he were human then you probably wouldn’t be feeling so conflicted about it. But he is at least part dragon and while it looked like the only differences were cosmetic ones, you had not taken into account that there would be biological differences too!
He could really smell when you were aroused! That was beyond unfair! Now what were you supposed to do? Apparently if you got aroused you stunk up the entire mountain! You would reek and he’d know and how were you  meant to go about your normal duties knowing that at any moment you could have a sudden fleeting desire and he’d pick up on it like a hunting dog tracking a rabbit!
Then his offer to help! Dear gods above, you were going to get aroused again if you thought of the implications.
Maybe it would be fine. You could survive this. Knowing what you knew now the lust would eventually fade and things could go back to normal. He’d get bored of teasing you and--
No. He would not get bored of teasing you. It was stupid to think otherwise. But he may at least stop making blatant comments about it at some point.
With that in mind you decided to be brave and go back to your work. You were just going to do your best to avoid Sylus until you felt that you could be normal about this again. And avoid him you did. You crept through the tunnels like you were a thief in the night. The moment you heard him you darted in the other direction.
When it came to preparing meals you cooked them, shouted that the food was ready, and took off again. And you knew that Sylus could tell that you were avoiding him. If he really wanted to he would come seek you out wherever you were. For whatever reason he was letting you play this out. Perhaps he found it humorous or maybe he understood why you were doing it and was giving you that space. It was impossible to say which was correct.
All you knew was that the thought of seeing him made your skin alight and your legs tremble. Honestly, knowing that he could sniff out your desire made you feel aroused more often now. It was like when your foot was itchy but you didn’t realise it was itchy until you thought about it. If he had never said anything you probably would have been fine.
You didn’t know how long you could keep this up. Something had to give.
Then one day you were walking about the mountain when you heard Sylus coming down the same hall. You panicked and ducked into the closest room to you. At the time you hadn’t noticed the X carved over the archway.
You ducked inside, pressing yourself into the shadows waiting for him to pass. You stared into the darkness of the room and slowly your eyes adjusted. It looked like an empty spacious room. The only thing you could make out was the glint of metal further in.
Your curiosity got the better of you, no longer worried about Sylus coming down the hall and got closer. In the wane light you were able to make out what was there. It was an old chest. No shiny adornments on it or anything, just plain wood and iron.
Why was this in here all by itself? You glanced back at the doorway. You didn’t hear Sylus. He must have passed by.
Slowly you hefted the lid, the hinges creaked loudly as if they had not been moved in years. Perhaps they hadn’t. You had to squint and angle the chest towards the light from the doorway but you could make out a few things inside. Most of it was some old books and clothes but there were two things that caught your eye. One was a large piece of what looked to be an eggshell and the other was a shining gold pendant. Pendant was the wrong word. The disc you held in your hands was as wide as a dinner plate on a chain as thick as a rope.
It was dazzling. It almost seemed to glow in the darkness, a thin shine of red coming off of it. The design on the face was simple but masterfully done. Swirling designs crisscrossed the surface into some looping star shape.
Why would Sylus keep something like this in here and not the hoard room?
“Are you done snooping?”
Shit!
You froze, dropping the pendant back in the chest and closing the lid. Sylus was standing behind you, silhouetted in the door. You couldn’t see his face against the shadows but the ice in his voice was indicator enough that he was pissed. “I told you not to come in here.”
“Sorry.” you blurted out. “It was an accident.”
“And was it an accident when you went through my things?” he stalked further into the room.
“No…I just saw the chest and my curiosity got the best of me. I’m sorry. Really I am.”
“Well, I hope it was worth it. Now get out.”
In all the time that you had been here, this was the only time you had heard him genuinely angry. Your heart clenched and you held your arms close to your chest.
“Yes, master.” you squeaked out and fled the room as fast as your feet could carry you.
You did not see Sylus for the rest of the day and this time it wasn’t because you were avoiding him. He had disappeared from the mountain again. The room, when you walked past it later, had been blocked off with a mountain of rubble. Whatever that room was, whatever was in that chest meant, it was clear that Sylus did not want you in there again.
You felt guilty about looking through his things. There was no excusing your actions and if you had been smarter about it you would have never touched that chest. You would have recognized you were in a room you shouldn’t have been in and left the moment you were sure Sylus was gone. But now he was angry with you and you did not know how that would affect things between you.
This was arguably worse than the whole masturbation debacle. At least you knew where you stood with him regarding that. Now, you were scared. Not of him. You didn’t think he would hurt you. But you were worried that he would put you at a distance now. What if all you ever were to him from here on out was a servant? What if he decided he didn’t want you around anymore? Would he send you back to the village?
“Damn it.” you sighed. “I have to talk to him.”
You searched the mountain but like you had suspected earlier, he was missing. Probably gone on another flight. You went to the entrance and sat down. He’d come back at some point and you’d be waiting.
~~~
Sylus had been trying to give you the space you so desperately wanted after what happened in the hot spring. You were embarrassed and nervous, he expected that. But he had been sure you would get over it in time. So he let you hide and run, partly amused by how nervous you were.
Then he had caught you in that room. There were few places he didn’t want you treading, most of them were for safety reasons. The room that you went into though trying to hide from him was one that he had marked off for personal reasons. What he kept in there was for his eyes only. At least it was until you opened that chest.
He had seen what you were holding and all he wanted was for you to drop it. Forget everything you had seen.
When you looked at him…what he saw…what he smelled even. You were scared. Scared of him. The sour stench followed you out of the room. He didn’t want that. You were never supposed to be scared of him.
He went to the chest, checking the contents inside and slammed the lid shut once more. He then blocked up the entrance so no one could enter again. There was no reason for anyone to be going in there. Never again.
That sour stench of your fear was still in the hall. “Damn it.” he didn’t want to be here when the mountain smelled like this. It only reminded him of that terrified look you had thrown at him. You had looked so helpless, so small. The only time he had seen you look half as scared was when you first came to the mountain in that ridiculously extravagant dress and the makeup that had sweated off your face. But then, that fear had never been directed at him. You had always been so strong and so brave about everything that happened to you.
With one look he was scared that he had destroyed the trust you had put in him. What if you wanted to return to the village now? If you were truly that unhappy he would let you go in an instant. But the mountain would be so quiet without you. He needed to correct this before you were too far gone. But he also needed to clear his own head first.
He stayed out in the sky, flying without direction. He hadn’t noticed how long he had been gone until the sun started to set in the sky. He immediately turned back, hoping that he could catch you before you went to sleep.
It was dark when he returned. The mountain no longer smelled of your fear. And to his surprise, there you were.
You were at the mouth of entrance, propped against the stone wall, eyes closed as you slept. Had you been waiting for him?
“You didn’t need to wait out here,” he murmured to your sleeping face. He shook his head and gently scooped you up into his arms to take you back to the bedroom.
He had just gotten you back to the bedroom when you started to rouse, your eyes opened and squinted up at him. “Sylus? Where did you go?” you said through a yawn.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m back.” he set you on the bed.
“I’m sorry.” you rolled over to keep looking at him.
“I know you are. Go back to sleep.” he pulled the blankets up around you. He turned to leave but you caught him by his hand. “What is it?”
“I really am sorry. I don’t know what it was about that room or that chest that you didn’t want me to see but I do feel bad about going through it. I just…” your hand gripped his tighter, “I guess part of me looked through it because I wanted to know more about you.”
Sylus had not been expecting this. “What do you mean?” he asked, kneeling next to the bed so you were eye level.
“For as long as I’ve been here the most I feel I know about you is your name.” you said. “I don’t feel like I know anything else.”
“You wish to know my past?”
“Not even that.” you sighed, “I just want to know you. If I am to spend the rest of my life here, I may as well know the only person I may ever get to talk to.”
The rest of your life…
You weren’t asking to go back to the village. That’s all that mattered to him.
“That is fair enough.” Sylus said. “You may ask as many questions as you want, in the morning though. Then we can both get to know one another better.”
You smiled, it was sleepy and small but you had smiled at him. “Good.” your eyes closed again.
He looked down and saw your hand was still curled around his claw as you drifted on back to sleep. “What a strange little human you are.”
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polaroidpascal · 10 hours ago
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i saw frankie kissing santa claus || joel & frankie
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AO3 || MASTERLIST
pairing : joel x f!reader x frankie morales
summary : after everyone leaves your house for a holiday party, you find one straggler left behind -or- you catch frankie kissing santa claus joel
tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, everyone in this fic is bi bc i am too and i said so, joel in a santa suit, reader and joel have a little (big) crush on frankie boy, handjob, blowjob(s), face sitting, multiple orgasms for reader, orgasm denial, lots and lots of leaking (from all of them. im sorry.), one in the mouth one down south, sizes mentioned, cum eating, creampie, aftercare bc its essential and they are softies!!!
WC : 6k
a/n : merry christmas to everyone who celebrates!! six months since ive written anything at all and now i'm back with a christmas special LMFAO 😭 honestly, life has been a hectic hell since i last posted and i'm really happy i was able to actually finish something i started to end out the year 🥹 i hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season, and i hope i won't be as much of a stranger as i have been lately!! hope you enjoy this!! <3
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“Oh, come on, Joel! People are gonna love it!”
“I am not putting it on, end of discussion, “ he said. You huffed a sigh and plopped down on the couch, Santa hat and suit in hand draping over your legs. 
For as long as you had been seeing Joel, you’d begged and begged for him to let you plan one of his company holiday parties only for him to tell you that he’d rather just treat the guys to a night at a nice bar. He’d always let you come along, of course, feeding you whatever fruity little cocktails you asked for to pass the night along.
Last year was… something else. That summer, the company was absolutely swamped with projects, meaning Tommy and Joel had to hire some more help to keep up. One of the new hires, Francisco, “Frankie” for short, outshone all of his peers. He was effortlessly helpful in ways Tommy and Joel hadn’t even intended him to be. Just in the 6 months he had been with the company, he had already (rightfully) climbed a little higher up the ladder to help with the more important decisions rather than just being an extra set of hands on site.
Every now and then, Joel would tell you something else about Frankie that made your heart flutter with gratitude that the extra help was finally letting off some stress that he always seemed to carry. When August had rolled around, the Texas heat reached an all-time high. One particularly hot day, you suggested that Joel invite Frankie over to swim and barbecue so you could finally meet him.
He was a big man, just like Joel. Sturdy frame and tanned skin, and the sweetest manners a man could have, greeting you with a gentle handshake and a kindly playful, “It’s nice to meet you, Joel’s always talking about you.”
You spent the day in the sun and shade, sipping drinks and dipping into the cold water to stave off some of the brutal heat. The backyard filled with laughter all afternoon until the sun had finally set, the last hoorah of golden rays draining from the sky.
“So—“ Joel grunted, settling in bed with you as you curled into his side, “what’d you think of Frankie?”
“He’s great,” you hummed with a smile, settling into Joel’s post-shower warmth. “I can see why you like him so much, he seems exactly like how you always talked about him.”
“Yeah, he’s… he’s somethin’. Ain’t like the other guys. Don’t have to tell him more ‘an once to do somethin’…”
You look up and see Joel staring into space, a glimmer of something else in his eye as he zones out.
A smirk slides into your cheek. “Mhm… kinda pretty too,” you tease.
“Huh?”
“He’s kinda… pretty. I don’t know.”
A ghost of a blush threatens to bloom across Joel’s chest as he shifts a bit underneath you. “Think he’s pretty, huh?”
“Well, yeah. Anyone with eyes can see that,” you giggle, propping up on one arm to fully face him. “Do you think he’s pretty?”
Joel stops, that once threatening blush beginning to spread a little more, a little darker. “Wh—?”
“Do you think Frankie is pretty?”
“Is this some sort of test or somethin’?”
“No, not a test. I just… you do realize you’ve been talking about him for months?”
“Well, he’s done real good for the company. Jus’ happy not to be so stressed all th’ time. You sure have been enjoying it.”
You chuckle and shake your head. “Well, yes. But that’s not my point. Been talking about him for months and he had you laughing all afternoon today.”
“That ain’t fair, he had you laughing too. Matter of fact, them little shrieks could’a woke up a bear in hibernation,” he joked, poking at your ticklish spots and making you recreate those shrieks of giggles from earlier.
“Stop, stop! I get it!” you said between laughs. “Jesus…” You settled back into his arms pulling the covers over the two of you some more. “Doesn’t answer my question, though.” Joel hums and pulls you somehow closer and you get comfortable in his grip, feeling sleep start to claim your mind. “Do you?” you ask, voice dripping with fatigue.
“Do I what?”
“Think Frankie’s pretty?”
You feel him huff and shake his head, then you hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah… yeah, I do.”
You fell asleep that night with a smile.
“Bet you Frankie would like it if you got a little festive,” you pouted under your breath, just above barely audible, just where he would have to ask you—
“What was that?”
“I said I bet you Frankie would like it if you got a little festive.”
“‘S that so? And what makes you think I’d wanna put it on just to impress him, hm?”
“N— nothing… Please, put on the suit, Joel?” you beg, donning your biggest puppy eyes you can manage. “The whole house is already decorated. Everyone’s gonna love it. If anyone gives you shit, I’ll show them what’s up. But I promise they’re gonna love it. Pleeeeease?”
Joel stands, silent, crossing his arms and chewing his cheek, thinking.
A beat passes, then another beat, your relentless begging gaze boring holes into his heart.
He sighs. “Gimme the suit,” he says and extends a hand.
“Really? Really, Joel?”
“Gimme the suit ‘fore I change my mind,” he says, fighting the smile curing at the corners of his mouth.
You were right, the suit was a fucking hit.
Every one of Joel’s employees that walked in was enthusiastically shocked that the old man would get into the spirit, patting him on the back and hyping him up the whole night. Each reaction made you giggle as you greeted them all and showed them into the house.
Tommy was probably the most surprised of them all, giving his big brother so much shit about dressing up, but Joel just laughed it off and shoved his brother in the house.
Not long after Tommy arrived, the doorbell rang again. “I’ll get it!” you told Joel and made your way to the door.
It was Frankie, dressed in his nicest sweater and least damaged pair of jeans, still wearing that baseball cap he was never seen without, holding a bottle of wine with a ribbon tied around it. 
“Frankie!” you exclaimed, extending your arms for a hug.
“Hi! Sorry I’m late, the traffic was horrible.”
“It’s okay, Tommy just showed up and he doesn’t have an excuse at all.”
Frankie laughs and remembers the bottle in his hands. “Oh, this is for you and Joel.” He hands it over with a smile.
“Oh, Frankie… you didn’t have to get us anything!”
“Consider it my thanks for all the hospitality,” he says.
“Well, thank you for the wine. Come in!”
There’s no need for a tour with him, having already been to your house countless times before this. When he rounds the corner into the kitchen, he nearly trips over his own feet seeing Joel. 
“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that,” you said, poorly hiding the giggle bubbling up in your throat.
“Hi, Frankie,” Joel says, shyly raising an arm to wave.
“Hey-y-y,” Frankie giggles, waving back with one arm and holding his stomach with the other, almost doubled over in laughter.
The party plays out better than you even thought it would, the warm, bass-y tones of laughter filling the space of your home as everyone mingles and eats and drinks. Minutes easily turn to hours effortlessly dragging the night along. The later it gets, the more people slowly filter out returning back to their homes. You walk Tommy out to his girlfriend, Maria’s car, whom you called about half an hour earlier when you overheard him tell someone one more wouldn’t hurt.
As you close the door and turn back to the house, surprisingly very neat for having just hosted a party of contractors, it’s… eerily quiet. You expected Joel to be just behind you waiting to come back inside so he could whisk you off to bed. But he was nowhere to be found. 
You creep back through the house, not seeing him anywhere. You round the corner to the living room and…
You thought everyone had left. But, you guess the last to arrive ended up being the last to leave as well.
You see Frankie and Joel sitting on the couch, Joel lounging as normal, still decked in his Santa gear, and Frankie sitting sideways facing him, one hand cupped on Joel’s jaw, kissing him so slow, so gently… so intoxicatingly beautiful.
You stay in the door frame for a minute watching the two make out on the couch, hearing the tiniest little grunts and groans from each of them. A fire ignites in your belly and quickly grows before you clear your throat to break the silence. 
Frankie leaps back, starting to fumble his words and blushing bright red almost immediately. You look at Joel who looks calm and collected as ever, if not just a little dazed and blissed from the kissing he was just doing. 
“I-I— um— we— I—“
“It’s okay, I’m not mad,” you say gently, convincingly as you can.
Frankie must have mastered the puppy eye look just as you had and was using them on you now. “Y-you’re… not?”
You chuckle. “No. Furthest from it, really.”
“Told you she’d be okay with it,” Joel pipes up, tugging him closer on the couch.
You inch closer into the room. “We, um… I think Joel and I have a… confession to make.” Frankie watches with big, curious eyes as you make your way to sit on Joel’s other side. “Joel… how can I put it… Joel has a little bit of a… crush on you, I’d say.”
“Now hang on one minute—“
“Thinks you’re an excellent worker, wouldn’t stop talking about you for months.”
“You’re the one that said to bring him over in the first place!” Joel argues. 
“That’s true. Just wanted to see the guy responsible for helping you out so much… Remember that first time you came over?”
Frankie nods, still watching as curious as ever. 
“Well… y’know what? You should tell him what you said, Joel.”
“Huh?”
“Y’know… about how you think he’s real pretty and all…”
You see Frankie shift a little out of the corner of your eye, barely causing a ripple in the couch attempting to hide the movement.
“If I remember correctly… you’re the one that said that first.”
Your cheeks grow a little hot at the admission. “But you agreed with me.”
“Well, ‘cause I do. Think he’s pretty.”
You finally glance back at Frankie whose blushing cheeks are bright red at this point. “All that to say… I think we both have a bit of a liking for you, Frankie.”
“Yeah?” he asks, completely unsure how he ended up here, but eternally grateful for it.
“Yeah. Is that… are you okay with that?”
“Shit... y-yeah— yes. Yes, I am,” he says, trying to keep a grasp on whatever composure he has left.
You smile back at him. “Good. Joel, you wanna show him to our room, then?”
“It’d be my pleasure,” he says, taking Frankie’s hand and giving it a kiss before leading him down the hall.
The three of you glide down the hall, the tension pouring out of your pores and making the air hotter, thicker, as you cross the threshold of the bedroom.
Joel leads Frankie to the edge of the bed, letting him sit and leaning in to give him a sweet, deep kiss to his plush lips. They both groan into it, savoring the softness of the other’s skin.
“Mmm… you should try, baby. He’s a real good kisser,” Joel offers.
You sit right next to Frankie, cupping his cheek to turn his face to you and kiss him. 
Joel’s right, too. He is a good kisser. His velvet soft lips part when his tongue darts out to taste yours, a small whimper slipping from his throat as your mouths dance together, getting to know one another, melting into one. Frankie reaches up to grab your face, willing your mouth closer into him and your body follows, all but climbing into his lap to taste more, more, more as his hands trail up your body under your shirt and up to your chest—
The kiss is only broken when Frankie moans into your mouth, looking away from you with a hooded stare as he finishes yanking off your shirt. You follow his gaze to the floor just between his legs where Joel has sunk to the floor, palming Frankie over his jeans.
“Tha’s gotta be uncomfortable, hm?” he asks, giving his bulge another gentle squeeze. Frankie grunts and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to control his breathing and the slow leak threatening to ruin his pants. “Keep kissing him, angel. Gonna take care’a this.”
Joel’s hand slides up Frankie’s torso, slowly coaxing him to lay flat on the bed. You chase him with your mouth listening to each tiny gasp that leaves his lips as Joel gets to work with his pants.
The clink of his belt… the hum of a zipper… the tiny shimmy of Frankie’s hips as Joel slides his boxer briefs down his legs, stopping mid-thigh and running his hands back up to his hips.
“Jesus christ…” you hear him whisper, admiring the almost fully hardened length of the man in front of him, the tip of his cock shining in the low light from the bedside lamps, a small damp patch just barely seeping through to the outside of his underwear.
Joel’s own cock jumps at the sight. If he wasn’t turned on already from Frankie’s perfect lips, he sure as hell was turned on now. He can hardly keep himself from touching, one hand wrapping around Frankie’s length in an instant.
Frankie’s hips buck up and he pulls away from your mouth again, a low moan bellowing from his chest.
“Yeah? Feels good?” Joel mocks from below, lazily stroking up and down, up and down, swirling his hand at the top making Frankie squirm underneath him. “Look here, angel, look how hard he is.”
You glance down and can’t help the whimper that falls from your lips watching Joel slowly jerk Frankie off, the bright red tip leaking down his own length and making everything slick. And the sounds…
But it’s when you see that Joel’s other hand has his own length grasped in his palm, rubbing over his pants, that you let out a borderline growl… something about watching him get off to this… this idea that you had and felt brave enough to open the door of discussion to… this idea that Joel seemed more than happy to indulge in…
It’s then you realize how damp you feel, the wetness that’s been slowly building and building without you even realizing leaking out to soak your panties. You try to discreetly rub your legs together, seeking some sort of friction, anything at all.
But Joel sees it. He always sees it.
“Feelin’ left out, baby? She wants some attention, huh?”
You look at him with pleading eyes, an unspoken yes, yes please…
“Say, Frankie… that pretty mouth of yours got any other talents?”
Frankie looks down his body where Joel sits, already looking so fucked out and gone. “H-huh?”
“Take his mouth, go ‘head.”
Your body is buzzing as you look back at Frankie, the flame of arousal burning bright in his pupils as he frantically nods, leaning back for you to move. You take off your pants and ruined panties and shift over him, straddling his broad frame and maneuvering your knees around his head.
You hover over his face, looking down for permission to lower, “Is— Are you okay wi—”
You’re cut off by Frankie’s hands on the apex of your thighs tugging you down to meet his lips, and it is fucking heaven. “Oh, fuck…”
His scruff scratches the most sensitive parts of you, giving you exactly the friction you needed as his tongue greedily laps up your arousal, drinking it up like he’s been lost in the desert and you’re his oasis. You rock against his lips taking more and more of everything he’s giving you, and he helps you, coaxing you back and forth as more slick leaks from your hole. “Yeah, like that…” you moan, one hand slipping under his cap and through his ruffled hair, neither of you caring when it falls off onto the bed.
“Keep doin’ that, boy,” you hear Joel rumble behind you, followed by a whine from below right against your clit, making you jolt at the sudden vibration.
You look back and see Joel easing down Frankie’s length, slipping inch by inch down his throat, bobbing up and down taking more and more with each bob until he’s taken it all to the hilt.
God, is it a sight. You’re already whimpering watching him take more and more, but when he’s bottomed out and looks up, eyes barely watering, and he gives you a wink, you can’t help the downright pornographic moan that escapes your lips.
You turn back and look down at Frankie, seeing tears just starting to well in his eyes when he opens them with the most desperate gaze you’ve ever seen. “Fuck, Frankie… so fucking pretty…” you moan out, throwing your head back as his tongue dips inside you and his nose nudges your clit perfectly.
“Fuck…” you hear Joel gasp. “Fuck, angel… turn around, please. Lemme see that pretty face while he eats you out.”
You oblige, gently prying Frankie’s hands off your hips and cautiously spinning around over him. He gives you no time to settle back down, pulling you back flush with his face and drowning himself in you once again.
It’s a miracle he isn’t suffocating, or at least he doesn’t care if he is. He eats, and eats, and eats, your juices dripping down his face and his neck making a mess of him below. He works your hole and your clit, drawing out cries from you until your thighs are shaking, barely holding yourself up.
“Fuck yeah, baby… ride his fuckin’ face like that,” Joel encourages, stroking Frankie in tandem with the rock of your hips. “Gonna fuckin’ cum on his face, baby? Bet tha’s what he wants. ‘S that what you want, boy? Want her drippin’ down your tongue?”
You barely hear it over your whines, but a muffled mmhm is all you need to chase your rapidly building high, the feral need taking over you as you ride his face. His scruff tickles your most sensitive spots and his warm, wet, determined tongue works overtime to send you over the edge, and it fucking works, your orgasm crashing through you as you brace yourself on his belly, riding it out as you spill more slick down his face and his mouth works you through every second.
He doesn’t let up, licking you through every wave until you have to use every ounce of strength to fight his grip holding you down. You flop on the bed to the side and see Frankie’s face absolutely drenched in you, his mustache and scruffy beard soaking wet and his cheeks red as roses.
Frankie’s eyes are closed, his chest heaving as Joel works him faster, harder, the squelching noise from the precum furiously leaking from the tip of his cock almost drowning out the whines leaving his lips.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck… ohhhhh, fuck— waitwaitwait—” he begs, pleads, with any ounce of strength he can still muster up.
Joel stops in an instant, “What’s wrong? You okay, Frankie? What happened?” he asks, concern drenching every word.
“It’s… fuck… nothin’s wrong… just…” he huffs, trying desperately to catch his breath. “Fuck, didn’t… wanna cum yet… shit…”
Worry leaves Joel’s features in an instant, swiftly replaced by contentment and ease that he’s alright. “Ohhh… was gettin’ t’be too much, huh?”
“Yeah…” he answers, breathlessly.
Joel rises on creaky knees to stand from where he knelt, reaching for Frankie’s hand to sit him up again. “You good to stand?” he asks, gently, voice nothing but bass.
He helps Frankie up on wobbly legs and switches places with him, dragging him into his frame between his knees, reaching up to his face and kissing him, licking you off his lips. “Mmm… tastes good, don’t she?” he asks with a smirk before crashing back into Frankie’s mouth.
His hands leave Frankie’s face to tug down the costume pants, finally freeing his fully hardened cock, tugging on it a few times before reaching for Frankie’s hands and guiding them into his lap. Frankie’s hand wraps around Joel’s length, his grasp encompassing his whole girth, but just barely so. Joel helps his hand along, up and down, up and down, a steady rhythm to make his cock slippery in his grasp. 
Frankie’s hand feels perfect, but Joel is an impatient man. And when he wants something, he’s gonna get it.
“You wanna sit on Santa’s lap, Frankie?” he says with a downright diabolical smirk.
“Oh, fuck— yes, please. Can I?”
“‘Course you can,” Joel smiles, reaching for the hem of his pants again and tugging them all the way down as Frankie toes off his shoes and steps out of each pant leg. He pats his thigh right where it meets his torso, “C’mon, boy, right here.”
Joel scoots back on the bed to make room as Frankie kneels on the bed lining himself up with Joel’s length. Frankie spits on his hand generously, giving Joel a few more tugs before lining him up with his tight ring of muscle.
“Shit, boy… no stranger to this, huh?”
Frankie just blushes, slowly lowering down to Joel’s lap, moaning as his greedy hole takes inch after inch until he’s sitting flush with Joel’s pelvis. He rises and falls a few times before finding a slow, steady rhythm, throwing his head back and bouncing eagerly up and down.
You watch in awe as Frankie fucks himself on Joel’s cock, resting his arms on Joel’s broad shoulders just like you do, Joel’s hands sitting on Frankie’s hips just like they do on your own. You feel your core flutter at the sight, half unaware of the whiny whimper that falls from your lips and fully unaware of your hand traveling south to play with the slick still drenching your folds.
The noise makes Joel turn his head and he extends his hand to you dragging you closer to him. He grabs your cheek and kisses you, his tongue begging entry into your mouth as you swallow each other’s moans.
Frankie wills his eyes open, watching the two of you make out right in front of him. It makes his cock throb as he bounces harder, a little faster, and Joel can feel him getting impatient.He pulls away from your desperate mouth, holding Frankie’s hips still and met with a whining protest about it. 
“Calm down a sec, cowboy. Got an idea…” You both look to him with curious, fucked out eyes. “Gonna lay back an’ you’re gonna ride my face just like you did for him, ‘kay princess?”
You nod back firmly, making a move towards him—
“Ah, ah— eager girl. Wasn’t finished…” he turns and looks at Frankie. “You got a hard job, think you can handle it?”
Frankie nods just as firmly, desperate to hear his rules to follow. “U-uh huh, I can handle it. Please.”
“Gonna keep ridin’ this cock, got it? But… you don’t cum ‘til I say so. Not even when she does. Not ‘til I say.”
Frankie’s chest jumps as his breath hitches, a grunt of a moan stifled at the back of his throat. His eyes flutter as he nods, trying desperately to keep his hips stilled and finding it harder and harder.
“We all good?” 
“Yes— yeah, all good,” you and Frankie both enthusiastically agree, desperate for more.
Joel leans back, tugging your hand his way. As you go to straddle him, he stops you. “Face him, baby. He didn’t get to see how pretty you look when you fall apart.”
Your eyes roll a bit as you lazily agree, spinning around to face Frankie. Sweat makes his forehead twinkle as he slowly rocks and bobs in Joel’s lap. You lower onto Joel’s face and immediately brace yourself on his belly, the feeling of his tongue more intense this time, still sensitive from before.
As hard as it is to keep his eyes open, Frankie can’t peel his gaze away from your face, contorted in pleasure as moans spill from your lips. “Oh, Joel… fuck, yes…”
Frankie can’t help but reach towards you, just wanting to touch you, feel your body… he cups your tits over your bra that you quickly undo and toss off the bed, desperate to feel his hands on your skin. “Go ahead, Frankie. Touch me, please,” you beg, holding his hands to your chest and squeezing them.
He mirrors you, kneading the flesh there and quickly throwing you back into the fire as Joel’s skillful tongue brings you closer and closer to the edge already. He never fails to unravel you in an instant, his tongue memorizing every inch of you right down to the softest spots that send you reeling in the blink of an eye.
It’s barely long at all before you feel the fire burning in your belly again, growing and growing as you desperately try to last just a little longer.
You distract yourself in Frankie, mesmerized by his face and his body that you wish you could see more of, hiding under his t-shirt that’s somehow still on.
“This—” you say, pawing at the hem of his shirt, “Off. Get this off—”
He doesn’t hesitate to help you peel his shirt off his sweaty body, throwing it haphazardly off the bed. His body is beautiful, the curves of his belly mirroring Joel’s so closely, and your hands are drawn to his skin like magnets, feeling every inch you can reach.
You don’t realize you’re lifting away from Joel’s face until he yanks you back down again, mercilessly lapping at your folds.
He pulls off again, just for a moment. “‘Member angel, he can’t come ‘til I say. Longer you’re ridin’ my face, longer he’s gotta wait.”
He’s back on your cunt in an instant, and your fluttering eyes barely catch the aroused and panicked expression on Frankie’s face. His cock makes a mess of Joel’s belly below, the leaking head spilling pearly white now as it gets harder and harder to stave off his orgasm. He languidly rocks back and forth trying desperately not to spill all over Joel’s gut before he’s allowed to.
Watching Frankie try so hard to keep his composure, teetering on the edge of collapse, turns you on more than you can even describe. Your hips move on their own at this point, or maybe it’s purely Joel rocking you in just the way he knows drives you crazy.
“Talk to ‘er,” he mumbles to Frankie from under your wet heat.
Your eyes blow wide, the growing fire turning to a blaze when Frankie opens his mouth.
“Fuck… g-gonna fucking cum for him too? Oh, shit… wanna… wanna see your face… when you—”
Frankie’s babbling is cut off by your moans as you cum for a second time tonight, thighs quivering and hips bucking on Joel’s face. He licks you through it, controlling the movement of your hips as you lose all control.
“Oh, my god… h-holy shit—” Frankie stops all movement, seconds away from making a mess of himself, Joel, and you sitting in front of him. His eyes bolt shut as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, shaking when Joel eases you off of his face. 
He sits up cupping Frankie’s face in his hands. “Got a little more fight in you?”
Frankie takes a deep breath. “Mhm… yeah, uh huh…”
Joel chuckles low, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “Good. Hop off.”
Frankie’s eyes pop open, but he obliges, easing himself off of Joel’s length with a whine at the sudden emptiness.
“Go ‘head and climb up there,” Joel instructs gently as Frankie climbs onto the bed where you lay, still a puddle of overstimulated mess. Joel gently tugs at your ankles pulling you towards the end of the bed, leaning down to kiss you, soft and sweet. 
“Can you gimme one more, angel? Can you stay up for me?”
Your eyes try their best to focus on his face, a hazy blur clouding your vision just a bit as you hum and nod to him. “Uh huh… can stay up…”
“Attagirl… alright, hands and knees, baby.”
You do as you’re told, flipping over and around so your backside faces him at the end of the bed. He stands over your body, hands gliding over the globes of your ass, up your back, stroking every inch of bare skin spread in front of him. 
“Fuckin’ gorgeous…” he mumbles, before laying a tap to your ass, causing you to jolt a little and whine at the contact. “Alright Frankie…” Frankie perks up, hanging onto Joel’s every word. “‘M gonna take this pretty hole back here… An’ you take that one up there. Sounds good?”
You clench around nothing. The idea of both of them filling you as much as you can take… Using you for their pleasure…
“Fuck… yeah, good, mhm…” Frankie babbles, shimmying himself to kneel in front of you.
You look up at him, down his body, to his ruddy cock, hard as diamond right in front of you. Your mouth waters at the sight and you motion for him to come a little closer.
Joel grabs his length, lining the head up with your entrance. You stifle a whimper at just the contact of his fat tip pressing into your most sensitive spots. “Ready?” he asks. You both whimper a yes, ready.
They both enter you at the same time, sliding into you wet, wanting holes cautiously first, but easily. So, so easily. The three of you groan in pleasure, them from your warmth and you from the fullness.
Joel sets a pace, fucking in and out of your dripping cunt with ease, quite a feat for the sheer fucking size of him, but you’re so worked up that you practically suck him in and dont dare to let him go. Frankie doesn’t follow Joel’s face, testing the waters of your throat and what it can take.
“She can handle it, boy. If she can take all’a me, she can take all’a you too,” Joel says with a wink.
Neither one of them is small by any means, but Joel was right. He was a bit thicker than Frankie is, and it took a while for your mouth to get used to his size. And while Frankie wasn’t as thick, he might have been just a little longer. It was impossible to tell now, though, they both felt impossibly huge stuffed inside of you, each of them chasing their own highs.
Joel’s pace has already picked up, the warm walls of your pussy crying for him to keep going, don’t stop, right there… the grip on your hips unforgiving as he slams in and drags back out over and over and over…
Frankie keeps rocking into your mouth, a little faster now, and you taste the salty precum leaking onto your tongue and down your throat.
“So fuckin’ hot, angel… stuffed so fuckin’ full…”
“God, you feel good…” Frankie whispers down to you, and you wish you could see his face while you take him to the hilt. Instead, you pull away and spit directly onto the head of his cock before taking him back into your throat completely, using one hand to play with his balls. “Oh, fuck… oh, fuck…”
“Ah ah, boy— unh— not— not ‘til I say,” Joel reminds him.
Frankie takes a few deep breaths, holding your face so delicately, like it could break, trying to ground himself and fucking focus…
“One more, baby, one more right on this cock… an’ then you can too, boy…”
Joel fucks you harder, faster, bruising your cervix with every thrust, the ridges of his cock dragging along every nerve ending in your walls bringing you closer, and closer, and closer—
“Oh, fuck, Joel! Right there! Don’t fucking stop!”
He doesn’t. Not at all. He keeps the same relentless pace, hitting that soft spot deep inside you that he always finds without fail. You flutter around his length, clamping down on him as he reaches around your front to find your clit. He teases your little bundle of nerves, circle after circle after circle, hurdling you closer and closer to release.
“Fuck, tha’s right, baby. Tha’s fuckin’ right.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck— ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum, Joel,” Frankie cries, his hips bucking out of rhythm.
“Yeah? Gonna spill down her throat while she’s creamin’ my cock? Go ‘head, both of y’all, at the same time. C’mon—” he grunts, one strong thrust sending you reeling, spasming, damn near collapsing onto the bed as your third orgasm rips through you at an earth-shattering rate.
“Jesus fucking christ—” Frankie groans before his own thighs are trembling, his cock throbbing in your mouth as ropes of cum shoot down your throat, fucking himself in your mouth through his own high, the vibrations from your moans making his body shiver as you drain him empty.
Like dominos falling, Joel is next to go, painting your walls with his spend at the sight of you and Frankie falling apart right in front of him, throbbing in your overstimulated cunt as both ends suck each man dry.
The three of you are a pile of huffing, heaving messes, catching your breaths and dripping sweat onto your sheets. After a minute, Joel slowly slides out of you, his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy and dripping onto the sheets. The rest of your body plops down onto the mattress when he lets you go.
Joel steps back and looks at the two of you, sprawled out on the bed in a completely fucked out daze, and chuckles.
“Guess that that was a good enough present for the two’a you, huh?”
You both give a tired, breathy giggle stretching and wiggling around the mattress. You crawl up towards Frankie laying on the pillows and curl into him, and he welcomes you like this is something you’ve always done, with ease, with comfort.
Joel walks into your bathroom and returns with a towel, cleaning you up before climbing next to you, now sandwiched between the two burly men, all three of you basking in post-coital bliss.
“That is… not how I thought the night would end,” Frankie says with a sigh and a chuckle.
You giggle back. “No? Not even a little?” you tease.
Frankie hums a laugh. “So, was this… is this something that you guys… talked about before?”
You turn a little and look at Joel who is just admiring the two of you. His eyebrows raise a bit, an exhale of a laugh leaving his lungs. “Hmm… I mean, It’s come up a few times.”
Frankie turns his head to look at Joel, silently asking for more.
“Started that first time you came over an’ it just… I don’t know, it would come up from time to time. Was never opposed to the idea and… Tonight was the night the pieces fell just right, I s’pose,” he explains, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
You can see it haunting Frankie’s lips too, threatening to show just how much he enjoyed this too.
“Think it’s safe to say we all enjoyed it, huh?” you tease again, nudging Frankie and throwing Joel a knowing glance. Frankie turns away, blushing.
The three of you cuddle a little closer, savoring each other’s company, glowing with pleasure as you lay there, falling asleep knowing things might have changed, but for the absolute better.
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werecreature-addicted · 15 hours ago
Note
Priest! Werewolf Christmas sex
The both of them agreed to meet up at her house after the Christmas Eve sermon.
After it was over and he was finally done with talking to some people who wanted to speak with him. He was able to sneak off to his mates house.
Hoping to cuddle by the fire place drinking egg nog or cocoa.
Stopping in his tracks when he steps through the door to find his mate sitting in front of a lit fireplace wearing nothing but an over sized Christmas sweater (which possibly could be his.)
“I’ve been such a naughty girl this year”
They are doing more than cuddling.
In the morning. They exchange their gifts. She got a diamond necklace. And our lovely priest was given a positive pregnancy test.
He's still trying to keep your relationship secret so he goes two towns over just to buy your gift so no one sees him. The crowd is massive on Christmas Eve but he still finds your face in the pews and smiles to himself seeing his mate. He looses you at some point in the night but he doesn't worry...much. He knows he'll see you at home. The thought makes his chest warm, he has a home with you, he almost can't belive it.
He is surprised when he comes home to say the least. He saw you at the sermon and he thought he knew what you'd be wearing so when his eyes landed on you in the middle of the room in only his sweater.
"i wanted to be naked, but it was too cold," you tell him sheepishly. As if this isn't perfect.
"Can't have my mate being cold," he mumbles half to himself, if he had better self-control he might bring you a blanket and a mug of something hot, but all he can think about right now is you riding him in front of the fire and he's so bad at denying you what you want. especially when it's him you want. It's fine. His mouth and his knot will keep you warm.
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sencrose · 23 hours ago
Text
— ENCORE!
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pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
tags: exhibitionism, established relationship, toys (vibrator), idol AU (reader's an idol), praise, multiple orgasms, overstim, dacryphilia, clothed/floor sex, pet names (angel/sweetheart/princess), satoru being a wee bit possessive/mean, reader’s kinda tsun
wc: 4.6k
summary: your boyfriend wants you to put on a special show for the night, and your audience is none the wiser.
a/n: happy holidays! let's completely ignore canon together <3 i'll be free from idol AU bs one day. today is not that day. i got a tag on my blog for any idol!reader stuff involving gojo at #iettoru! if it piques your interest! special thanks to @angelbunsx and @surpassing-morning for looking over this for me <3 dividers by @/adornedwithlight
❥ ao3 link here
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This was a horrible idea. Well, it still is a horrible idea, but you went along with it anyway. At the end of the day, you only really have yourself to blame, even though you would really like to split it with your boyfriend.
It took a bit of convincing, maybe a bit of guilt tripping, but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s a vibrator stuffed inside you as you walk onto the stage. Everything feels more intense than usual– the brightness of the stage lights, the stuffiness of the venue, the cheers of the crowd.
You inhale deeply but the words that follow come out shaky, “T-thanks for coming, everyone!” It catches you off guard, but not enough to stop talking. Your group members, however, give you a worried glance. You can’t afford to make them worry about you, not when there’s nothing worth worrying about other than your boyfriend’s perverted fantasies. So you continue, yelling into the mic as a way to hide your unsteady breathing, “We have a great show planned for tonight, so we hope you enjoy it!”
The crowd cheers, as per usual. Though this time it rumbles through you, intensifying the already overwhelming vibrations stirring you up. You don’t have much time to think about it. The start of the backing track catches you off guard, as you rush to catch up with your members’ formation. Everything feels hot, and you’re not sure what it is, the embarrassment of a rare mistake, or the vibrations rushing through your body with each step.
And though you’re struggling to keep up with the routines you’ve practiced dozens of times over, Satoru doesn’t seem to be phased. He’s business as usual, a sun bright smile plastered on his face as he yells and waves his penlight in the air. He might even be cheering louder than usual, the bastard.
Every move feels risky, like taking a block from an unsteady tower of jenga. The world’s worst game of flipping the coin. Either the vibrator will adjust inside you, press against somewhere that might make you moan, or maybe it’ll move around enough and slip out. Thinking about the latter is too much for you, so you surrender yourself to moving a bit less than usual. Focus on shining that dazzling smile to the crowd and hope they won’t see how it falters with every shift of your body.
And thankfully, it works for the first performance. You’ve never been so grateful to hear the crowd whoop and holler. Even more so that you’re not introducing the next song.
But that moment of relief is cut short. The vibrations pattern changes to something more intense, staccato pulses that make you wince with each throb. It catches you off guard, a soft moan escaping your lips before you try to cover it up with a cough, though you’re not sure it’s that convincing.
“You doing okay over there?” Your member’s voice barely registers in your ears as you rush to put on a fake smile.
“S-Sorry, I’m doing okay! Just recovering from a cold,” you reply with a shaky chuckle. Everyone seems to be content with your answer, though Satoru seems exceptionally proud of himself. It takes every bit of self control to keep your breathing steady, as your members banter amongst themselves before introducing the next song. Their speech feels like it’s going on for ages until they finally get themselves in position.
Thankfully, you’re not caught off guard this time, though the choreo’s a lot more complicated for this song. You don’t have the safety of being hidden in the back, being front and center for a good chunk of the performance. Though the audience cheers, you can see some concerned faces interspersed between the sea of penlights, some murmurs and whispers beyond what you can hear. It’s not hard to imagine what the conversation would consist of.
Even on a good day this routine would leave you breathless, but it’s on a whole other level now. It’s hard to keep your muscles clenched, terrified of having the toy slip out of you from your frenzied movements. And seriously, who thought adding this many jumps was a good idea?
But with each hit of a drum, you jump anyways, though a little less enthused than your members. Then, as if it’s a punishment for not giving enough effort, the speed of the vibrator increases. Your eyes dart to find Satoru in the audience, but he’s cheering innocently as usual, though one of his hands is dug deep in his pocket.
You’re going to kill him later.
With each move, it’s getting harder to ignore the tension building in your core. But you just have to get through this song and another before the buppan period. It’s only another ten minutes max, you can keep it together till then, you think.
Satoru plays more with the settings and you can feel him pushing the buttons for each one, carefully watching your reaction to see which is the most effective. Unfortunately for you, it’s written clearly on your face when your smile breaks and your eyes squeeze shut for a brief moment, just enough for Satoru to hone in on it.
You’ve vastly overestimated your ability to stay calm and collected. The buzzing inside you is erratic now, each pulse getting you closer to the edge. But the song is so close to being over, maybe if you just move a little less, catch a small break where you can focus on standing still, you can make it through. Though, it’s hard to concentrate when you can feel a pool forming in your underwear, the wet cotton sticking to your skin wherever you go.
It’s as if you can feel yourself developing a fever in real-time, heat boiling beneath the surface of your skin as you struggle to keep up with your members. It doesn’t help that Satoru keeps changing the vibrations to a pattern that doesn’t match the rhythm of the music, yet another added distraction. It demands your attention as if it’s a living, breathing being, gnaws and claws at your core until you finally give it what it wants.
The vibrator wins over your self-determination.
You at least have the self control to fake a cough over it, but not before your knees give out on you, trembling as you try to hold yourself back up. With every pulse, ecstasy courses through your body, small choked moans escaping your lips.
Your group members, sweet as they are, immediately come to your side to help you up, and you’re rushing back to coughing to hide the truth.
“H-Hey, you really don’t have to push yourself, you know,” she whispers to ensure the audience doesn’t hear.
You do your best to swat her away without actually hitting her, afraid she’ll be able to feel the toy vibrating through your skin and discover your dirty little secret.
“N-No, I’m fine, I can do one last song,” you get out, enunciating each syllable carefully to not spur any suspicion.
“You sure?”
“Y-Yeah, it’s just one more,” you assure her.
“Okay…” Hesitantly, she lets you recollect yourself, watching over you until you stand, give her a smile and a thumbs up.
“Sorry about that everyone, I’m okay! But this will be our last song of the night,” you announce into the mic, swiping the dust off your skirt.
You get a bit of your spirit back now that you got that out of your system. That doesn’t make the vibrations any less incessant.
Unbeknownst to the audience, it’s not a performance anymore–it’s a competition. To show Satoru you can hold it out till the end.
And with the start of the instrumental, you’re off to the races.
A thread of melodic synths weaves its way through the room, and the crowd fires off their usual chants during the introduction. It’s a nice distraction to hold you over until it’s your turn in the center. When it’s your time, you beam and sing sweetly into the mic, like it’s just your average performance. Satoru doesn’t let you go that easily, adjusting the attack pattern to diminish and swell in a way that catches you off guard.
And though it’s hard, it’s not the worst of the night. You hiccup on a note for a split second, but it seems to go unnoticed by the audience, considering how hard they’re waving their penlights. That’s one third of the song out of the way.
Even when you’re out of the spotlight, Satoru doesn’t take his eyes off you, nor does he take his fingers off the remote. Every move is an opportunity to see you break, even if it’s just a little. He does his best to find a rhythm, one that pulses with the beat of the music, and you feel it reverberating through you with each step. It’s not quite enough to make you break, but it’s enough that you’re hyper aware of it.
A frenzied mix of bass and synths meld together for the bridge, and the crowd takes it as their cue to do the appropriate chants, their yells rattling your chest almost as intensely as the vibrator. It’s bad timing to feel the heat in your core swell as you take your spot center stage for your solo with the instrumental toned down. The crowd quiets down too, a rush of soft claps pattering like butterflies filling the room. On a regular night, this display would be cute, heartwarming even. But now it only serves as a reminder that all eyes are on you, and only you.
Don’t mess up.
So you take a deep breath, gripping onto the mic like a vice. All of your focus is on the lyrics, singing them as softly and sweetly as you can. Even though the night was off to a rough start, you think you’ve redeemed yourself with this, hitting every note just right, even with the vibrator doing its best to pull your attention back to it. Back to Satoru.
You can take it easy now. It’s almost over. Just repeat the dance you've already done twice over from the other choruses.
And for once, it’s just as simple as that. The vibrating is incessant, but you’ve gotten used to it at this point, even with the occasional change in pattern. Your chest rises and falls harder than usual as you hold your finishing pose, your skin covered in beads of sweat you aren’t accustomed to.
Despite everything Satoru attempted to throw at you, you made it, and that’s all that matters. The performance is over.
For now. —
The buppan period is worse than you thought it was going to be. To your surprise, Satoru didn’t do his usual frenzied ticket buying spree and now you’re left to face the masses he usually doesn’t let you see. You don’t recognize the fan in front of you, can’t even determine if he’s a first time fan or if you’ve met him so long ago the passage of time has done your memory in.
“H-Hi, thanks for coming!” you exclaim, taking his ticket and placing it on the table.
“Thanks for the performance! I really hope you’ll feel better soon,” he remarks. The way he scratches his neck tips you off that he’s nervous.
“Aw thank you! I’m already feeling better for the most part, I’m just coughing a little here and there,” you do your best to assure him, lying through your teeth.
“Despite it all, you still did great today,” he says, whispering towards the end of his sentence.
“Thanks,” you smile, and you don’t want to admit it but you are a bit touched by his words. Quickly, you shake the thought away. Maybe you understand why Satoru monopolizes your time now. “So, did you have a pose in mind?”
“Yeah, just a hand heart, if that’s okay,” he offers, a bit hesitant, shakily playing with his hands to show you the gesture he’s thinking of.
“Sounds good!” You give him a thumbs up before leaning in a bit closer to him, just enough that your fingertips are touching. Look into the camera with your usual smile, and count down from three.
As soon as the flash of the camera dissipates, you’re hit with a rush of pulses to your core. It’s almost enough to make you keel over, a sliver of a groan escaping you as you bend over to grab your stomach.
“A-Are you okay?” he asks, his hands hovering over you wanting to help, but unsure if he should touch.
You don’t think you deserve his kindness.
“Y-Yeah, sorry, just,” you sigh, barely able to keep it together. Each pulse takes the wind out of you, gets you closer on that precipice you don’t want to experience here, not this close to a stranger, much less a fan. So, you wave the white flag for now, gritting your teeth to get the words out between deep breaths, “I think I gotta go. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Your absence doesn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. If anything, this is probably what he had in mind, push you to your limits until you just can’t take it anymore. By the time you barely have a moment to collect yourself, he’s already found you on the floor of the green room. It’s pathetic, letting him see you like this–breathless, panting, and desperate for relief.
The way he hovers over you paints him in a surreal, hazy light, as if he’s an angel coming down to save you from your strife, when he’s really the demon who put you in this scenario to begin with.
“My angel loves the attention, doesn’t she?” he asks, sickly sweet.
“Fuck off, Satoru,” you bite back, but you don’t stop him when he bends down to shuts you up with a kiss. It’s impossible to keep your voice back when he splits your legs apart with his knee, pressing up against your soaked panties while the vibrator continues to hum inside you. It’s more overwhelming than you thought, finally getting what you want and letting yourself melt into his touch. Satoru doesn’t let you savor it for too long, pulling away with a shit-eating grin.
“Feisty. Did I make you wait too long?” he sneers, pressing his forehead against yours.
You don’t give him a response, too embarrassed at the mess he’s made of you, at the way your wet underwear clings to your sticky folds.
“Don’t worry, I’ll give you all the attention you need,” he coos, sliding his hand up your thigh to pull down your shorts and underwear.
Satoru takes his sweet time because he always enjoys seeing how restless you get over him. The way you look up at him, the hint of tears forming on your waterline while pawing at him as you silently beg for him to take care of you. He could never get sick of it. So, he gently massages your inner thigh, fingers creeping up closer to your pussy until you’re nearly crying, pleading for him to do something.
“P-Please, take it out ‘Toru,” you whine, sniffling a bit because you’re so close to being overstimulated.
“Such a good girl for me,” he whispers soft and low, “since you asked so nicely…” he trails off, lithe fingers pressing into your soaked cunt, but not before he has some more fun with you. Satoru takes his sweet time, letting out a little “oops” to pretend the toy is slipping from his grasp, only for his fingers to go deeper than the vibrator.
The moment you part your lips to ask him to stop is the moment he finally shows mercy and slowly pulls out the vibrator. The sudden loss of sensation is a contradiction, both welcome and not. It’s strange to have nothing inside you, it almost makes you wish something else was in there to take its place.
One thing that catches you both off guard is just how wet it is, nearly dripping with your arousal.
“Wonder if any fans noticed you’re practically leaking,” he says before licking a long stripe off the vibrator, “not that it matters, you’re all mine, aren’t you?”
“It’s just sweat,” you retort, looking off to the side because you can’t stand to inflate his ego when he gets like this.
“Sure it is. Were you thinking of me up there?” he asks, following your gaze.
“Maybe,” you mumble.
“Huh? What was that?” he perks up, bringing a hand to his ear for dramatic effect.
“Toru, just put it inside already,” you huff with a soft pout.
“Wooooow,” he comments, drawing out the vowel for dramatic effect, “needy today aren’t we?”
“It’s your fault anyways,” you say, an attempt to throw the blame back at him. Still, you wrap your fingers in his shirt before pulling his body closer.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take the blame as always. For what it’s worth, you’re just as bad as me,” he comments. His fingers slide against your slick folds and you bite your lip to hold your voice back.
Satoru savors every moment he has with you, drinking in the sight of your cunt practically dripping arousal onto the floor. The more he stares, the more your face burns. No matter how many times you’ve done this, you can’t get over how attentive he is.
He sinks in a single finger, and it’s already enough to have you groaning at the sensation, to have your hips bucking into him.
“What kinda idol runs off to the green room in the middle of an event to get fucked?” Satoru teases, his finger pressing into you harder.
“Y-You’re being mean, ‘Toru,” you whine.
“You like when I’m mean,” he quips back before pressing in another finger with little resistance.
Satoru does what he always does–starts slowly, listens carefully to the way your breath hitches as he curls his fingers to find that special spot. When he gets there it’s hard not to relinquish control, as you lean back and let him take care of you. As much as he loves to listen to your moans, he likes swallowing them up too, feverishly kissing you without letting a single one slip from your lips. Satoru only pulls away from a moment to tease you.
“C’mon angel, you gotta let me know if it feels good,” he coos before picking up the pace. It’s too much, embarrassing to hear the wet squelches leaving your pussy the more he fingers you.
Every part of you runs hot as the tension that’s been simmering in your core builds to a roaring boil. Desperation overrides any rational thought as you find a rhythm and ride his fingers, nearly drooling as you feel your muscles tensing up. You’re so close, and he knows it too, because Satoru’s kisses always get messier when you get close to cumming.
“T-Toru, please,” you whine between moans, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for.
“I know, I know,” he coos before giving you a soft peck on the cheek, “let it all out for me, sweetheart.”
It’s as if he knows your body better than you as the tension in your core finally snaps as you cum on his fingers. Satoru being the fiend he is, continues fucking you through it, pushing his fingers in harder when you inevitably clench around him.
“Too much, too much, ‘Toru,” you cry, attempting to grab his wrist but he simply pushes himself deeper into your cunt.
“One more? I know my princess wants another,” he teases before kissing you to cut off of any chance of a response. It’s not like you would be able to give him an answer anyways, not when his fingers play with you so easily, his lips greedily stealing every one of your breaths and moans for himself.
One thing about Satoru is that he likes to overindulge. Likes when you’re extra loud and needy for him, seeing the pleasure written plainly on your face when he fucks you, whether that’s with his fingers, his tongue, his dick, or anything else he can get his hands on. But that makes him insatiable in some aspects, when he makes you cum on his fingers multiple times before he’ll even entertain the prospect of fucking you properly.
Can you really blame him? He just wants to feel all your love for him dripping down his cock. Maybe even make you cry a little because you just look too cute when you do, and even cuter when you sniffle as he wipes your tears and kisses them. It sets off something in him.
But it’s also hard to keep up with him. When you grip onto his hand and try to pull his fingers out because it’s too much, he simply wraps his arm around your waist and keeps you from escaping. Satoru’s determination is a wild animal that can’t be tamed, especially when it comes to you.
It always pays off for him, but that means it pays off for you as well. Though, you’re in tears when he rips another orgasm out of you, your moans too deafening to quell with a kiss. Your legs involuntarily squeeze close as Satoru gets you near the edge of ache and overstimulation, but he uses his other hand to split them open, watching closely how your pussy convulses and flutters around his fingers as you come undone. Only when you finally come down from your high does he slow down, examining just how much you soaked his hand.
“You didn’t have to go so hard, Satoru,” you scoff when he finally gives you a break.
“Just gotta make sure you’re all prepped for me,” he mewls, pulling out his fingers from your messy cunt. They glisten under the fluorescent lighting, before Satoru shamelessly sucks on them before releasing it with a pop.
“Don’t have to go all above and beyond on me,” you mumble, a bit embarrassed at his shamelessness even though it’s just the two of you in the room.
“But my angel only deserves the best,” he says, voice low and sultry. Hastily, he’s stumbling over himself to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants before palming himself over the fabric. That doesn’t last long before he finally frees his cock, already hard and raring to go.
Satoru pulls up your skirt to your waist before slotting himself between your legs. Even still, he teases you, tapping his cockhead on your slick folds and letting out a whistle when a thread of your arousal sticks to him before thinning out and breaking.
“T-Toru, please,” your voice breaks with each tap of his cock against your cunt, the desire to be filled up driving you to the edge of tears.
“Please what?”
“Put it inside already,” you beg with a pout.
“Whatever you say, princess,” he coos before pressing the tip of his cock against your hole, and both of you moan when he bottoms out quicker than usual, thanks to all his hard work. Satoru holds your head in his hands as he pumps into you with a steady rhythm, each stroke punctuated with a hard snap of his hips.
“Fuck, you really are made just for me, aren’t you?” he pants breathily, before planting a wet kiss on your neck.
You can’t bring yourself to answer, not that he really needs one. With his mouth elsewhere, your lips are free to spill all the moans it wants, and they’re abundant. It’s music to Satoru’s ears, as he hums in delight while biting down on your shoulder.
“Can’t be so loud angel, the others’ll hear you,” he teases, as if that isn’t his dream come true. His lips press into yours, and you don’t hesitate to give him the opening he wants. Satoru kisses you sloppily, spit and drool mixing with yours before spilling from the sides of your mouth.
“Is that what you want? Want your fans to know what a pervert you are?”
“No, no, no,” you protest, shaking your head with a tinge of guilt in your chest. You can only imagine the shock your fans and members would have if they ever knew about this happening just a handful of meters away. But that concern disappears as fast as it came when Satoru turns on the vibrator again and plants it against your clit. Your body writhes from the simulation suddenly being introduced again, but Satoru is unrelenting, keeping it right against the sensitive bundle of nerves no matter how much you move.
“It’s okay, I’ll keep your secret,” he says softly, almost gentle, contrary to the position he currently has you in.
Satoru adjusts and presses your legs as far back as he can before he starts building a merciless pace. The weight of his body against yours is suffocating, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he hits your deepest parts from this angle.
“Fuck, you’re getting close, aren’t you? Can tell from the way you’re squeezing me,” he groans, his voice getting breathier with each word, “you wanna cum, sweetheart?”
“P-Please make me cum, ‘Toru,” you pant out.
Satoru answers by frantically thrusting his hips into you, hitting your deepest points at a pace that’s dizzying. Words are the last thing on your mind, too fucked out and crying from how good it feels. You don’t even protest when Satoru bites down on your neck, even harder than before. All you give him is a drawn out whine as he sucks on the skin and with how intense he’s being, it’s definitely going to leave a mark.
It doesn’t matter. All you can focus on is tightening your muscles, preparing yourself for your fourth climax of the night. Satoru is merciless, thrusting into you like an animal functioning on a base desire to breed. The sound of skin-to-skin slapping fills the room, nearly muffling your own babbled cries as you get close. The tension in your core builds and builds until it snaps and crashes into you like a tidal wave, deep and full-bodied.
Your nails dig into his chest when he continues to fuck you through it like he always does, thighs trembling as your walls convulse and flutter around his cock. Satoru curses under his breath as his pace slackens, your orgasm being a precursor to his own. Despite him making a mess of you, he’s just the same as you when he’s cumming, maybe even worse–desperately humping into you and repeatedly whispering “I love you” and moaning until his hips finally give out.
Satoru digs himself deeper into you as he cums, making sure you can feel all of his love for you in the hot ropes of white that paint your insides. After he’s emptied all that he can inside of you, he finally dismounts and gives your body the chance to recover.
You barely take a moment to recollect yourself, still panting and sweating from the intense orgasm when Satoru uncharacteristically rushes to get his clothes back on.
“What are you doing?” you ask, still out of breath.
“Going back out. I still have these to redeem,” he says matter-of-factly. Satoru rummages through his pockets before brandishing a handful of cheki tickets, all with your likeness smothered on them. Before you can even offer up a response, he gives you a peck on the cheek. “You’re not going to keep me waiting, are you?”
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neysaadept · 3 days ago
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Prometheus Chapter 13
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Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader
Chapter 13 - Chasing After You
Tags: Swearing, canon typical violence, panic attack, drinking, mentions of grooming, drugs, arson, juvenile detention, breast mutilation, incest, and underage prostitution. No beta reader, mistakes are all me. Minors DNI.
Word Count: 7.5k
AO3
… Desperate for changing Starving for truth I'm closer to where I started I'm chasing after you
Hanging by a Moment - Lifehouse
You haven’t changed out of your sleep clothes or done your morning routine as you sit on the edge of the bed next to the open black duffel bag on Saturday morning. There is a navy-blue sweatshirt sleeve hanging off the side with drumsticks peeking out. Everything else was safely nestled inside except for the phone in your hand that you were staring at as if willing the device to magically alert you to a response about your text message.
Alpha sent 0534: I think I’m fucked.
You couldn’t talk to anyone at the BAU about your hot and cold relationship with Emily because it would get back to her for sure. The team sucks at keeping personal secrets that don’t affect national security or involving a case. Rebecca wasn’t an option either. She may have been your partner in crime with the fake dating prank, but she’s with Tara and that goes back to the first group of individuals you’re trying to keep this from. Brian was out. No way were you going to drop this bombshell after decades of being a lone wolf of you willingly flirting with the section chief and it being clear that awkward night was affecting your working relationship. He already has his suspicions on your drunken behavior because you are the master of not letting your guard down. And you did.
“Come on,” you urge down at your phone and look at the time shift to 0559.
You’re about to give up when the chime went off that you received a message. Eagerly, you open the message and smile.
Charlie sent 0559: And what did we do this time? 😊
Alpha sent 0603: You promise to not tease me?
Charlie sent 0604: I can make no promises, love.
Alpha sent 0604: 😡
Alpha sent 0605: PLEASE
Charlie sent 0605: Wow. This IS serious. What is going on?
Charlie sent 0605: And if it is something with the mission Brian got your back.
Alpha sent 0606: Not about current assignment.
Charlie sent 0607: 😮
Charlie sent 0607: OK that is a first.
Charlie sent 0607: What is wrong? How can I help?
You pause typing there because now comes the hard part – admitting you are capable of having amorous feelings towards another woman. You press your lips tightly together and fumble with the keypad, typing and deleting your message several times. Then you hang your head when you finally send it with a fiercely beating heart full of fright.
Alpha sent 0612: I really like someone. A lot.
The phone immediately rings and you laugh because it was expected. You answer it while scooting back against the headboard with your legs stretched outwards. You had been hunched over for so long your muscles were screaming in stiffness which makes you grunt against the receiver.
“Woman you tell me everything right now because I am not believing you!”
“Yeah,” you chuckle, overwhelmed at admitting this. “Comes as a big fucking surprise to me, too.” You narrow your eyes. “Do you know what I’m doing now?”
“Clearly not the woman that stole your heart.”
You blush hotly and cover your face. “Dude, just … just stop.”
She cackles over the phone. “I have to tease my baby sister that she has a crush.”
“Oh my god, I am not twelve. Stop talking like I’m a child.” But that made you glower into your lap, bringing your mind back to the argument with Prentiss.
“Ouch. That hit a nerve.”
“Yeah, sorry. It’s not you. It’s the whole fucking situation.”
“Okay. So, fill me in. And no, Brian hasn’t told me or Echo anything about what you’ve been up to.”
You fill her in on everything regarding Rebecca Wilson’s big favor, working with the BAU as a consultant, the stipend, and all about Section Chief Emily Prentiss. The first rocky week of your partnership, drinks at Buddy’s, making amends with a desk, Diet Coke, and working assignments together. Then you go into explicit details of Emily coming to your unit and collecting you for a girl’s night, the drunken ride home, and the inexplicable attraction that kept you standing there helpless before forcing yourself to move towards your building. And, of course, yesterday’s fight.
“Wow,” she says in amazement, but joy is heard there, too. “I never thought I’d live to see this day.”
“You’re not kidding.” You sigh into the receiver. “It’s so easy. Working with Emily. Being around Emily. It was nice, too. Finding that with someone outside of the fucking CIA and our little group,” you confess soberly. “Then it all got ruined because I’m a dumbass.”
“You’re not a dumbass for having feelings.”
“Yes, I am. I’m not supposed to have them because I’m incapable of having them. And now they’ve fucked up my friendship with her because now I have them. Which only furthers proves I’m a fucking idiot.” You slam your fist against the bedspread and growl in frustration at yourself. “She completely hates me now.”
“You’re only human. And honestly? This just shows how far you’ve come. And no, I sincerely doubt she hates you. You said the fight didn’t escalate like before, right?”
You bounce your head against the headboard lightly in rhythm to think and then stop when you speak up again. “No. It was … rather tame considering.”
“Right. So obviously she isn’t that upset.”
“Then I made her uncomfortable.”
“You made the Emily Prentiss uncomfortable? Girl, get over yourself.” She laughs and you can’t help joining in.
“Okay, point. But she’s obviously affected by what I said without directly coming out and saying it.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And, what?” you ask, puzzled.
“Fucking go talk to her.”
You freeze, feeling all the blood drain from your face and speak with a shaky face. “Uh, yeah. No. Can’t do that.”
“And why not?”
“Because I’m always gonna be two triggers away from becoming a sociopath and she doesn’t need someone like me in her life!” you yell, white knuckling the phone.
“Oh, sweetie. We’re all wired this way. I bet Prentiss is, too. Some just got it worse than others, like you, but even we deserve happiness. You’re long overdue for some.”
She waits for you to get ahold of your ragged breathing that she hears pounding against the other end. You put the phone down and collect yourself, running a hand through your hair and realize that your once comfortable position sitting against the headboard had become you hugging knees to your chest. You roll your head back and forth and begin the familiar pattern of breathing and holding your breaths in fours. With each successful round of grounding, your limbs loosen and fall to the bed. Your neck cracks and stretches the tension away until finally, tight shoulders drop.
You’re back and you bring the phone to your ear knowing Charlie is waiting for you.
“Better?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Now let’s start over and talk about why you deserve this chance and then you can see how you feel about it and make a decision.”
“Damn it,” mutters Rebecca looking at her phone. She’s cozied up against Tara’s side on the couch at her girlfriend’s home.
They wanted to have a quiet night in, but the two of them thought it would a good idea to invite you over to join them. Also, Rebecca hadn’t had a chance to see you since the dinner awhile back and she was missing you. They were waiting for your response but had started on the wine without you.
Tara looked up to respond with a questioning gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“She said no,” Rebecca responded frumpily and tossed her phone down by the furthest cushion. “I really thought she’d come.”
“I’m not,” Tara states emphatically without thinking before taking a sip from the wine glass. They had chosen a cabernet sauvignon to have while watching the movie Till, and the bottle was ready for refills on the coffee table.
Rebecca’s head snaps at Tara with much curiosity. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Tara stopped in mid-sip realizing she was in trouble. “Uh …”
“Don’t uuuuuh me.” She pries the drink from Tara’s hand and sets in on the table. “What’s going on with her that I don’t know because last time I remember, I was her friend first. Which means, I’m on a need to know basis on what you clowns at the BAU have done to her.”
“Hey! What makes you think it’s us?” Tara declared with a tinge of hurt.
“Who else could it be?” she retorts with confidence and goes into lawyer mode. “The only variable that’s changed with her since I’ve known her is working as an FBI consultant with the BAU. And I know your track record with drama. So, please tell the jury who else has upset Agent Whitlock. And remember,” she pauses to bop Tara’s nose with a fingertip, “you’re under oath.”
Tara playfully tries to bite Rebecca’s finger as she pulls away which makes them smile adoringly towards one another. It makes Tara sigh with a roll of her eyes. “It’s not technically the BAU.”
Rebecca raises an unamused brow, but Tara holds up a hand to halt the retort. “I’m serious.” She rocks her head back and forth on how to phrase this. “It’s really just the … section chief of the BAU.”
That makes her brows furrow in defensiveness. “What the hell did Prentiss do?”
Tara leans with a huff. “It’s a long story.”
She takes the remote and pauses the movie. “Girl, I’ve got all night for you to convince me not to tear Prentiss a new asshole. You better get talking.”
User45125 sent 0924: Before we get to that, need assurances. 
FlamePit23 sent 0945: Like what?
User45125 sent 0955: Need a favor done. And if done right, we can go ahead with your present.
FlamePit23 sent 0956: What kind of favor?
User45125 sent 0956: Not here. Want to talk. You game?
FlamePit23 sent 0957: I am.
User45125 sent 0959: Let me take care of some things on my end and I’ll let you know.
FlamePit23 sent 1000: Try not to have too much fun without me.
User45125 sent 1001: Wouldn’t think of it.
FlamePit23: sent 1002: Good. Talk soon.
This conversation happened during the day at the BAU where Prentiss and Garcia could watch the exchange in real time. Soon as you got the first text, you fired off one to Prentiss and Garcia to meet you in Penelope’s lair.
“Good work, my beloved cutie. You’ve gotten one step closer at snagging Spiderboy,” exclaims Penelope giving you a bright smile.
“Thanks.” You nod appreciatively. “Need to be careful though. He sniffs even an ounce of deceit; this plan is fucked.”
“Agreed.” Prentiss remains passive, focusing on the screen. You two haven’t shared a single word that wasn’t work related which was fine by you. “Let’s go over your cover.”
Penelope cracks her knuckles and brings up the digital creation for you. “Meet Nikole Wade – forty-three-year-old woman who barely graduated High School with a 2.0 GPA at Graves County in Mayfield, KY. She has a lovely rap sheet of violence and arson that has landed her in juvie several times because of her abusive father, Liam Wade. Thankfully he tragically died by slamming into a tree because he had a heart attack while driving his truck. Backstory, he was addicted to alcohol and cocaine. Mama Katie Wade in her infinite wisdom, thought she could groom her daughter for prostitution to pay the numerous bills. That’s when Nikole’s penchant for fire starting came to fruition and burned down the house, along with her mother. It was ruled an accident because mommy dearest had too much to drink and kept the stove on. Nikole ends up working a lot of retail jobs and is currently a cashier at the Food City grocery store in Gatlinburg, TN.”
“This fits with the whole nurturing angle that FlamePit23 has on her profile,” you continue. “And with a history like this, it explains her antisocial tendencies and denying friendships. We theorize by previous posts that the user came to this forum to gain new insights into what other arsonists are doing to keep their habits going without getting caught. Then ends up disgusted with how many wannabees there are playing pretend.”
“And this corroborates Green’s explanation of how Sicarius weeded through the users for those individuals that were legit. FlamePit being one of them,” Prentiss surmises.
“Exactly.” Penelope brings up a picture of you digitally altered to look like a teen during the juvie years of your story. “Isn’t she cute!”
Your head drops as you sigh. “You won’t let that go.”
“I will not. Not unless you show me an actual picture of teenage you to dispute your cuteness.”
“You know I can’t do that,” you plead while turning your head to look at her.
“Therefore, you are cute!” Penelope grins with a scrunched nose.
“Both of you focus,” Prentiss snaps, which got both of yours attention. And here you thought she would remain neutral but here comes bitch mode. “What have you done to make Sicarius believe this?”
Penelope’s wide eyes return to normal after being scolded. “Ah, well, the usual. High school records, a sealed juvenile record, uh … different places she’s worked, social security cards, birth certificates. A few police reports and articles about the crash and fire. If he somehow goes deeper than that, we’ll … we’re screwed.”
“But really, a person like Nikole Wade isn’t gonna have a lot to find since she’s kept to herself since becoming of age. I’ve already studied unsolved arsons in the Kentucky and Tennessee area that I can use for a resume in case he questions me,” you add. “Honestly, this is as good as it’s gonna get, Prentiss. Not unless you want me to do an entire photoshoot for new material.”
She heard the roughness in your tone in response to her impatience. She really couldn’t blame you and rises from her seat. “Alright. Let me know when he schedules the call. Until then, I’ll be in my office.”
“Oh, okay, Emily …” Penelope starts talking but Prentiss already was on the move and didn’t make eye contact with either of you. The door closes and she ends up waving to the door. “Bye!”
You roll your eyes at Prentiss’ childish behavior. “Anyway, I should probably get back to my desk since we’re good here.”
Penelope wants to say something so bad, but she can’t. She just can’t! No matter how much she wants to interfere and smack yours and Emily’s heads together to get a clue. Her, Tara and JJ all promised to not tell you anything.
So instead, she nods with agreement. “Yep! Those nasty reports can’t write themselves.”
Two days and there was no further contact from Sicarius, thus the BAU was business as usual writing up reports, analyzing data, and piecing together information to connect the victims in the shipping container to the missing persons. Tara has provided closure to three families. Penelope has made your cover identity as airtight as she possible can with the cyber crime division and what made Prentiss exceptionally happy? That Bailey had nothing to say about any of their work because the expenses were paid for and Director Korogoth’s glowing report of the BAU’s work in Idaho with your expertise made the AG extremely happy. She saw the benefit of Rebecca’s involvement of you, which also made Director Madison happy. The BAU was coming out ahead all thanks to collaborative efforts of you and the BAU.
What personally sucked was the lack of resolution between the two of you. She hadn’t even devised a solution to the problem she, once again, created so the only option was to avoid anything social with you. Admittedly her anxiety over the situation spilled over to impatience with snappish responses to any frivolity in the unit. At least she was consistently bitchy instead of her previous singular agenda against you. What weighed on her mind were things growing more awkward as she dragged out clearing the air with you.
“Hey, Em? Got a sec?”
She looks up from the opened file from New Mexico to address JJ. “Yeah. Come on in.”
JJ closes the door which puts Emily on alert. “Is everything okay?”
“Well, that depends.” JJ takes a seat across from Emily with purpose.
Emily speaks cautiously. “Oh what …”
“On why you haven’t talked with Whitlock yet,” she accuses.
She closed the file forcefully and was defiant. “JJ, I’m in no mood for this right now.”
JJ’s brows raise in disagreement. “Ah, well. Guess what? We’re talking because your mood sucks around here and it’s getting really old, really quick.”
“Are you seriously reprimanding me?” Emily challenged.
“Ah, yeah. Clearly, I am.” She frowns. “You need to talk to someone about it. Why not me?”
Emily starts to respond but doesn’t know how to start, leaving her mouth hanging open. JJ is patient since she sees that she is trying.
“You were right, JJ,” she admits with a long face. “I fucked up.”
“How did you fuck up?” she probed gently.
“Nina … is her mandated psychiatrist.”
Blue eyes look hard at Emily to interpret why this news unsettled her. All of them had mandated therapy sessions at several points in their careers, and now she knew who Nina was. Which wasn’t a woman in competition with her for your affections. “Okay. How is this bad?”
Emily licks her upper teeth as if there was a bad taste in her mouth before holding JJ’s gaze. “Because … I didn’t do as you suggested. And because of that we had another disagreement here in my office. Oh, stop that!” Emily scolds JJ dubious look. “It wasn’t like before. Tempers weren’t so heightened. But …”
JJ leaned in closer waiting for a continuation that never comes. She speaks up, coaxing her friend to keep going. “But what, Emily?”
With a sigh, Emily shrinks back into her chair to avoid eye contact. “Because I didn’t ask her who Nina was like you suggested. Instead, I learned it because she took a call from Nina.”
JJ winces. “Ouch.”
She points emphatically to her. “Exactly.”
“Well, it’s still salvageable,” JJ suggests furrowing her brows with concentration.
“I’ve messed up twice, JJ.” She holds up two fingers for emphasis. “Twice. I’m not willing to gamble the third times the charm.”
“Okay, if you want to be technical, you’ve already messed up three times if you could the first week you worked together with her,” offers JJ with a glint in her eyes. “So, fourth time’s the charm?”
Emily response was crossing her arms over her chest.
“Okay, yeah. Not funny,” JJ agreed, but she wasn’t going to give up on Emily. “You’re gonna have to work together for awhile still. You might as well be honest and apologize to smooth things over.”
“She’s too smart to take just the apology, JJ. She’ll want a reason.”
JJ shrugs. “So, tell her the reason.”
“Tell her she hit on me in Russian?” she scoffs at that. “Like she’ll believe me. She obviously doesn’t remember what happened. And after my behavior, you really think she’ll take my word? Or hell, really anything I have to say?” She looks guilty at JJ. “I really laid into her about the last case. About her call in the field.”
JJ knows how ugly that can get and is sympathetic for you. “Remember what I said when we were discussing this before?”
“That I basically suck at relationships.”
“True, but you needing more information is what I was going for,” she reminds Emily. “I think that if you don’t resolve what is, and isn’t, going on with you and Whitlock, this is just gonna keep escalating further until you have a real blow up. Professionally, that won’t be good and could get someone seriously hurt … or killed.”
She nodded thoughtfully at that, knowing JJ was right. “And what about personally?”
“Oh, that’s simple.”
Emily looked at JJ who was sitting eagerly at the edge of the chair. “Yeah?”
“Mhm. I want you to be happy and I really think that if you clear up this misunderstanding, you’ll get that chance.”
The case officially came that evening once logistics were ironed out. Penelope sent out the ‘Avengers Assemble’ text to the team on Prentiss’ behalf and that night you took the jet to Albuquerque, NM. A series of disappearances occurred at different campsites where the victim’s cars were left at NomadLand and Enchanted Trails RV park. Word is the victims stopped there for directions and never made it back to their vehicles. Both families called in a missing person report. Two weeks later, a couple of dirt bike riders found the bodies of the missing women off an OHV* trail by Goose Lake. It was roughly a four-hour drive from Albuquerque. The bodies of the women were found naked with signs of sexual abuse and breast mutilation.
You, Rossi and Prentiss were working with Albuquerque detectives on the geographical profile and pouring over cases that may have been missed similar to the current one. Lewis was interviewing family and witnesses while Alvez and JJ were investigating the dump site and talking to the rider that found the bodies.
By the weekend you had the profile of a twenty to thirty-year-old male who not only wants power over his victims by assaulting them, but also expressing deeply rooted anger by disfiguring the victim’s breasts. It more than likely stems from psychology trauma inflicted upon his mother or another female authoritative figure. As the victims were both similar in appearance and age, they suspect a Hispanic unsub.
That brings you to Gabriel Arellano, a thirty-three year old out of Farmington, NM, a city three hours northwest of Santa Fe. He and his three brothers were raised by their single mother, Elisa Arellano. Several calls to CYFD* were made on the children’s behalf, due to Elisa’s drug and alcohol habits and eventually the children were taken away from her and they were put into the foster care system. Once Gabriel finished High School, he made it his mission to raise his siblings, but no one was aware of the sexual abuse his mother unleashed upon him when she was high and intoxicated.
That inner rage was tempered to protect his brothers, making sure that Elisa only abused him. By researching similar kidnappings, the BAU were able to determine that Gabriel’s killings started once his youngest brother, Ricardo, moved out of their shared apartment. Once alone, Gabriel no longer was focused with family obligations and was triggered by seeing a woman that resembled his mother at a construction job per Garcia’s digging. That disappearance happened six years ago. Paula Sanchez’s body was found outside of the Navajo Nation reservation, strangled, raped, and had bite marks on her breasts, focusing on the nipples. He has slowly escalated since.
State PD had issued an APB* on Arellano’s silver 2002 Dodge Charger as he was lying low since the news broke of his involvement. Law enforcement was confident he was still in state but had collaborated with surrounding states to monitor highways for people matching his description and vehicle.
After a lead on Arellano’s whereabouts turned up cold by a Circle K in Hatch, NM, you were driving back to the hotel in Albuquerque. The ride was under three hours and since it wasn’t hot this time of year, you had the window down enjoying the fresh air with classic rock playing. Prentiss was in the passenger seat checking her phone and Rossi was well aware of the tension between the two of you. Tension that had been building over the last week. Emily’s cold behavior had resurfaced after drinks last Friday night and was avoiding you at work as much as possible. Prior to that, the two of you had an easy working relationship and conversation. You sometimes took lunch together in Emily’s office. That came to a sudden halt on Monday.
He glances between the two of you and smiles. “Pretty chilly up front.”
You have your Ray-Ban’s on, so he didn’t notice you looking up at the rearview mirror. He has this knowing smirk on his face and your stomach sinks. You pray he says nothing. Emily doesn’t even acknowledge him.
“Alright. How about this.” He folds his hands atop his jacket. “Mind telling me what’s going on with you two?”
Prentiss keeps scrolling on her phone but not she’s on edge. Or at least was doing a good job pretending. You shrug. “I’d say I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about but clearly that won’t work.”
Rossi half smirks with a chuckle. “The trials and tribulations of working with profilers.”
Prentiss half snorts as you bit your lower lip in thought. You did not want to have this conversation right now with Rossi present. Or really, at all. You’re still mad at Emily.
He starts tapping his thumbs together thoughtfully as neither you or Prentiss comment further. “Come on, ladies. Something’s clearing bothering the two of you.” He pauses patiently. “What happened?”
“Nothing to concern yourself with Papa Rossi,” you dismiss with a half-smile that Prentiss catches.
“Oh, god. That was fucking terrible, Whitlock,” Emily noted with a huff.
Rossi was happy you two were talking but he didn’t understand what happened. “What was terrible?”
“Dave, seriously? You don’t hear it?” Emily says partially annoyed, but you note a hint of amusement.
He’s baffled. “Hear what?”
“Papa Rossi.” You say again and he looks blankly at you still not understanding the joke. “It’s like … paparazzi ya big fancy famous writer man.”
“Ooooh!” His head rocks back as he laughs just as a silver Dodge Camaro passes your SUV on the other side of the two-way highway.
You looked at Prentiss who was looking at you. Dave was laughing cluelessly. There was only one way to find out if this was your guy and that was to go after the driver. You share a nod with Prentiss and suddenly turn the SUV around for U-turn. This wasn’t the first time you’ve done this and purposefully go off roading for a second to even out the car so you don’t tip over. You thank fed tires for being strong enough to not get stuck in the sand.
“Whoa!” Dave exclaims while grabbing onto the headrest of the passenger seat and the door handle. “What the hell Whitlock?!”
“Camaro that matches the description of our unsub just drove past us,” informs Emily as you start back on the main road to catch up.
“On it,” says Rossi, making a call to the New Mexico State Police.
You work the controls under the automatic gear shift to put in a call to Penelope. The car was synched up to your phone by Bluetooth that was secured on a handsfree mount on the dashboard next to the dash camera.
Her face appears on screen. “Hello my lovelies. What’s up?”
Prentiss speaks up first. “Access the dash cam. We need to ID the car in front of us. Might be our unsub.” And as she finishes saying that the Camaro starts burning rubber and speeds off. “Which has now elevated to probably our unsub,” Prentiss updates.
“Doubt they’re running from a ticket,” Rossi says while announcing different markers on the side of the road so state troopers could intercept.
You hit the accelerator and chase after them. “I need real time reports of traffic. We haven’t seen much but in case this gets messy, I don’t want any civilian injuries.”
“Done and done! Oh yeah … uh, that’s our guy. Plate matches.”
Rossi takes over relaying that information. “We have confirmation that we’re in pursuit of the suspect’s vehicle. New Mexico Plate Tango Charlie One Eight Nine Nine.”
“Wait. You’re driving crazy with Dave in there?”
“Well, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask while Penelope brings real time traffic for you as requested on your display.
“Dave you be careful!”
“I’m the one driving, Pen. Shouldn’t you be telling me to be careful?”
“She’s saying I’m old and don’t have a heart attack,” he says for clarification.
“Don’t worry, Queen Penelope,” you say quickly as you close the distance going ninety and climbing. “I’ve got this.”
“Uh, Queen Penelope?”
You hear the guilt in her voice and call her out on it. “Yeah. Why’s that weird? You are the Black Queen.”
“Right! I’m the Black Queen, hence why you’re addressing me as my sovereign title.” And not because of the chat title she gave herself in the secret chat group she made to discuss two of her favorite people she was staring at during a high speed chase.
“Why you acting weird?” you ask, watching the display and the road ahead of you. There are miles of desert in this area and rest stops. So far, the lack of traffic is on your side.
“Why are you?” Penelope says defensively without meaning to.
“Yeah … no. We’re revisiting this later but right now I need to focus.” You cross the solid yellow line into the opposite lane.
“What are you doing?” Prentiss wonders cautiously.
“Gonna say hi.”
Even Rossi was dumbfounded by this. “Say … hi?”
“Yep.” You speed up and follow alongside the Camaro and see Gabriel is white knuckling the steering wheel.
“Well, that’s definitely our guy.” Prentiss confirms and Rossi relays that information to dispatch as well. What she wasn’t expecting is you waving at the suspect. “What on earth are you doing?”
“I told you; I wanted to say hi.” You see Gabriel meet your gaze and watch his brows raise above the sunglasses in what had to be shock. You then grab Prentiss’ lanyard and hold it up. “Tell him to pull over.”
“I just … I don’t even know what to think about you right now.” Prentiss is exasperated and snatches her ID back as Rossi busts out laughing. “Dave! This is not funny.”
“Actually, it’s quite hilarious and technically by the book.” Dave starts explaining to dispatch what was so funny and then frowns noticing movement in the car. “Oh, looks like he’s reaching for something.”
“Probably a gun,” sighs Prentiss. “It’s always a gun. They can never go quietly.”
“Yep, there it is,” you announce, seeing the flash of metal in the desert sun. “Just needed confirmation.” Then you hit the brakes to confuse Arellano and end up behind the vehicle once more.
Dave was hanging on to dear life and almost dropped his phone. “Warn me next time!”
“OH MY GOD YOU ALMOST KILLED DAVE!” Penelope shrieks over the connection.
“I’m not killing anyone! God. You all need to trust me that I know what I’m doing. And thanks for asking if me and Emily are okay, too,” you bark and straighten out the car.
You both zoom past a small gas station leaving a trail of dust behind and as far as you could tell, the road was continued to be clear, and police were still enroute. You had no visuals either way and it was time to change that. “Pen, we’re still alone out here, right?”
“Ah, yes. No civies and police are about ten minutes away from catching up.”
You surmise that if this goes the way it will, either troopers will open fire on the vehicle and end up killing Arellano, set up tire spikes and have you back off but that would alert him that something was up. You’re aggressively tailing him. There’s also the chance they’ll try and barricade him, and he’ll just slam through it and possibly kill someone.
You keep your eyes up ahead and see Arellano poking his head out to open fire several rounds. You swerve out of the way, rocking everyone inside as tires hit desert sand before pulling the car back onto the pavement. At least he only had a handgun he was currently using, though there may be other weapons in the car, but you make your decision.
“You trust me?” you ask, turning to Prentiss.
Without hesitation, she nods firmly. “I do.”
“Shoot the back right tire after I get him to open fire again. With him distracted, I’m hoping he spins …”
“… off the road. The sand should slow him. Car like that’s not made for driving on sand for too long.”
“And then we surround the car to arrest him while he’s in shock,” finishes Dave.
You hit the accelerator and come up to his right, off roading until you catch up to him as Emily rolls down her window. Emily had her gun hidden from view, but the safety was off and ready to go once you gave her the opening.
You nod your head up and salute Arellano with a cocky grin, which pisses him off after he realizes you were right there again. He quickly points the gun at you. You hit the brake while easing off the accelerator, so all Arellano shot was the passenger window, shattering glass pieces everywhere where you now weren’t. You veer back onto the road, the car’s suspension taking the brunt of force for changing terrain so quickly. You saw how frantic Arellano was trying to control the steering wheel and with you keeping him off guard, it left him open for Prentiss who was already leaning out the window and lining up a shot.
She fires one round into the back right tire as planned and immediately you slow down to bring the car around to the left to avoid impact. The tire blows out with a bang and since Arellano was pulling the steering wheel down to the right, the car spins out in a three-sixty once and diverges off the road. In a panic, Arellano hits the accelerator, kicking up sand and with the loss of traction, ends up spinning his good back wheel deeper into soft sand. He was stuck.
Before he could make a decision on what to do next, you already pulled up alongside his car and put it in park to allow Rossi and Prentiss out. They quickly take sides, pointing their guns at him from both front windows.
Rossi was on the passenger side and saw that in the chaos, Arellano lost his gun. The 9mm was laying on the floor mat of the passenger side.
Rossi tsks as he tries to go for it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Arellano slowly raises his hands, glaring at Rossi with crooked sunglasses. Prentiss keeps the gun training on him while opening the driver’s side. “And you are under arrest Mr. Arellano. Let me list off all the reasons why …”
You were leaning against the SUV with arms crossed watching the state troopers take custody of Arellano from Rossi. It just made sense to wait and hand him off to local authorities, and it was one less thing the BAU had to do. The rest of the team would meet you in the police station in Albuquerque and start the paperwork to tie the case up with a bow for the district attorney.
You became distracted by the sound of the tow truck the troopers called in to take the Camaro. The driver was just finishing attaching the tow hook under the front bumper when you felt another presence join you against the car. You know it was Prentiss, but you honestly had nothing to say to her. Nope. Not even if she still trusted you in the field. Not that it almost made the fight you had in her office sting less.
Emily has her hands tucked into her front pants pockets and watches the car being pulled up the ramp with you. “Your driving was incredible,” she states delicately, testing the waters.
“Thanks.” You then add as an afterthought. “Nice shot.”
“Thanks.”
Silence ensues as you both watch the driver secure the Camaro. You really just want her to go and end this awkwardness, but Prentiss’ stubborn ass is still there.
You hear Emily shift beside you and then a thud. You finally dare to look at her and see her gazing up towards the sky. Silver grey hair was tousled against her shoulders and the car since there was no time for her to put it in a ponytail. Everything happened so fast as the three of you were not prepared for an actionable situation. She looks even more beautiful.
You resist the urge to restart the conversation despite wanting to know what’s on her mind, so you look across the scene and see Rossi looking back at the two of you. He smirks and just walks away and thus, takes away your way out.
Ugh.
“I need to apologize again,” admits Prentiss with a soft voice that takes you by surprise.
You tilt your head slightly while raising your brow. “Won’t hear me arguing.”
She nods. “I deserve that.” You watch her swallow; your eyes dragging along her neck and enjoy the view far too much for your liking before Emily moves her head to catch your gaze. “I am sorry. For the misunderstanding in my office.”
Your eyes squint and give no indication to her if you accept. You need more information. “But why was there one? I mean, I get being miffed that I did my own thing …”
“Miffed?” she questions while cutting you off.
“Put out. Angry. Asserting dominance by being a bitch.” You shrug nonchalantly but Emily heard the underlying hurt in your voice. “Miffed’s being nice, chief.”
“Oh … don’t do that,” Emily says with disappointment.
“Do what?” You know what you did.
“Be all formal like that.”
“Well, I thought we were past all that, but you pulled rank on me.” You didn’t hide the hurt in your voice as you challenged her. “That was Section Chief Prentiss getting pissy with me, so I figured I need to address you that way from now on.”
“But that’s not what I want,” she reveals quickly and that made you pause once your eyes meet brown ones. In that moment, all the sounds became muffled as time slowed. You could feel your heart begin to race under Emily’s intense gaze that were holding all the answers to why your friendship went to shit. You have your suspicions, but it was important to hear it from Prentiss.
“So,” you ask bluntly. “What the fuck do you want? Cuz I’m tried of this bullshit, chief.”
She winces and you hate that as much as you like doing that to her. You want to be vindictive like she was being to you, but in the next breath, you really hate how upset you were making her.
You watch her lips push and pull ever so slightly in thought but somehow, she has the strength not to look away. When her facial features smooth out, you know she comes to a decision and wait for it while holding your breath.
She fists her pants pockets and speaks your name with care. “I want you.”
The air rushes out of your mouth as your chest tightens. You end up playing dumb because you don’t know how to react to this and look away cowardly. “I … what?” Then your defense mechanism kicks in. “Kinda have an audience here, Prentiss.”
She smiles, glad to hear your joke and most importantly you are calling her by her last name again. “Well, I was thinking of a few dates first but hey, we can always give them a show,” she says as her gaze looks out to everyone clearing the scene. She saw Rossi finishing up with a deputy.
“That is the socially acceptable thing to do first,” you agree, then look at her. “But why are you telling me this now? Seems an odd time to do so.”
“That it is.” Her lips press thinly before responding. “I was gonna ask you out last Saturday.”
That made you jerk back and tilt your head in thought. “The day after Fireside?”
“Yes,” she confirms.
“Okay.” You sound as confused as you looked. “Why didn’t you?”
“Well, I was about to when I overheard your speaking with Brian.”
“Brian?” You’re baffled. “What does my conversation with Brian have to -. Oh …” It finally clicks as you remember your conversation about your ‘date’ with Nina. “Prentiss,” you say teasingly and smirk as she blushes. “All this nonsense was cuz you’re jealous?”
“I am not not saying that,” she sneers, but takes a deep breath before nodding. “But … maybe.”
You’re touched and feel yourself beaming. “Thank you for telling me.”
She looks at you pointedly and sees a resolution reflecting in your eyes. Emily frowns. “But?”
“But this isn’t a good idea. Even with me hitting on you in Russian,” you admit sheepishly.
“So, you do remember!” She grins. “Ass.”
You bow your head at that remark to concede the truth of it.
“And just for the record, I’ve been informed that since Brian is your direct supervisor, you wouldn’t be dating your boss,” she answers, anticipating your next response.
Shit.
Do you keep pressing that you work together and it’s a bad idea despite there being no official reason not to have a romantic relationship with one another. Or do you tell her the truth.
You look down at the sand. “I suck at relationships.” You give her a partial truth.
“That’s alright because you’re in luck.” She says your name and you look up to see her smile knowingly. “I suck at them, too. Like, really suck at them. As JJ will confirm, I’m the master of self-sabotage.”
“Wow,” you chuckle. “That’s a helluva thing to admit to someone you’re asking out.”
“Yes, it is.” Emily kicks at the sand nervously since you still haven’t given her an answer either way.
“You know I don’t date. Like, ever.” You admit and hear Emily’s boots shifting quickly in the sand.
“I, uh, didn’t realize that. But you know I appreciate you telling me this up front instead of stringing me along. Or being utterly rude like I was to you.” Emily was starting to spiral and needed to get away from you to recuperate from this raw emotional state. Damn her for assuming you would just magically forgive her and say yes.
“Hey, Emily?” you start but she was still going.
“No, it’s alright. Thank you for this.”  Her smile was all for show, but her eyes were dull and defeated. “We should get Rossi and head back to meet the rest of the te-.”
“Emily, stop!” You say firmly and that halts her from walking away any further. She hesitantly looks at you despite her body thrumming with anxiousness. She was ready to bolt by words or movement. You take a cautious step forward and decide to go all in like Charlie hoped you would. “I mean, I’ve never dated anyone before. Ever.”
Emily quirks a brow as if she didn’t hear that right. “Like … ever?”
“Never, ever.” You kick the sand now and chuckle nervously. “No one came along that mattered.”
Emily’s lips slowly curl into a hopeful smile. “Really? Not even in high school or …?”
You confirm all of that with a nod, which was far more confident than your voice that cracks. “Yep.” With Emily looking so adorable with that admission you look away. “Fuck, Prentiss. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” she asks taking a step back closer to you with a shit eating, confident grin.
“Fuck it, like that!” you accuse, gesturing at her, with a nervous laugh. Damn her gorgeous smile that just lights up when so thrilled. For once, Emily looks like the weight of the entire world didn’t rest on her shoulders. How could that be because of you?
“So?” she lowers her voice on purpose and stops in front of you, relaxed and back in control of this conversation. You were close enough that if she wanted to, she could reach out and touch you, but she wouldn’t. Not with too many eyes in the vicinity. “Does this mean you’ll allow me the pleasure of taking you out sometime?”
You lick your lips and nervously scratch at the back of your neck, which makes Emily’s eyes light up happily with the effect she was having on you. “Ah fuck it.” You twist your lips, sucking on the lower one as you find the courage to look directly into those gorgeous brown eyes that were distracted by your lips. “Yeah. I’d love to.”
I'm living for the only thing I know I'm running and not quite sure where to go And I don't know what I'm diving into Just hanging by a moment here with you
Hanging by a Moment cont. - Lifehouse
*Off-Highway Vehicle
*Children, Youth & Families Department
*All-Points Bulletin
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writingwisterias · 2 days ago
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Day 23: Praise Kink
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ID! Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Reader Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Praise Kink, Training, Gun, Training room sex Masterlist
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Of course, Leon had noticed your training had begun to slip, he was dragging himself to the shooting range with you every morning. No matter how hard he tried your score never increased. He could see your confidence slipping as the other recruits began to notice your low score. If he wanted to find you he was sure you were in the shooting range. You tried everything you could to get better and yet the more your confidence slipped so did your score. He could see the fire of ambition slowly die inside of you and decided enough was enough. 
He hated being awake so early, especially after he spent the night in some stupid bar he stumbled into. At least you were thankful for the extra attention he was offering. He saw you standing outside the door to the shooting range, two coffees held in your hands as you looked off into the distance. Your headphones looked like earmuffs over your head as you wrapped up warm to fight the winter chill. It was early enough the range would be empty, none of the agents assigned to training groups of recruits would be arriving any time soon, and the sky was still dark. Your frame is highlighted dimly with the street lamps. 
Your smile was brighter than any lingering stars as you saw him. Your sweater-covered hand holding out the hot drink to him. “I needed one so I thought you might as well” You spoke. He could hear your music as you pulled the headphones away from your head, they now hung around your neck. “Keep listening to music at that volume you won't need any ear protection when shooting” Leon teased. His heart fluttered at your shy smile blush coating your cheeks as your hands began rummaging your pockets for your phone to lower the volume.  
Easing into the training wasn’t the hard thing, it was just your aim. It was even worse than before everyone started teasing, Leon predicted the constant bullying from everyone else was a direct result. So instead of following the methods of all the other agents assigned to this task, he took a kinder approach. Hoping his praise and chilled-out attitude would help you relax and not overthink. It worked to his credit; your aim was improving and your score was slowly increasing. Yet your mind loved the extra attention Leon gave you, heart fluttering at every adjustment he would step closer to do. His rewarding words heading to other areas. 
You jumped slightly as he stepped closer to readjust your grip, his eyebrows pinching in confusion as his hands touched your hip. “You good? I didn’t mean to make you jump” Leon spoke. His breath tickled your neck causing you to flinch slightly, blush coating your cheeks as you felt bad for your reactions. You knew it was because you had woken up earlier than normal, your toy in your nightstand finding its purpose yet again after another dream of Leon fucking you. Having to face him after such a graphic dream was tough, his close proximity didn’t help either. 
“I’m good sorry, I don't know why I’m so jumpy today..must have been a dream I had” You half laughed. Leon clearly assumed it was a nightmare the way he nodded, silently agreeing with you. “I’m here if you want to talk about it. We have time before the others show up” 
He was too kind for his own good sometimes, his caring nature making him all the more alluring to him. You could have made up something, some random nightmare but Leon was smarter than that. He would have clocked on instantly. Instead, you chose the cheap side and said you didn’t want to talk about it. Leon just raised an eyebrow. 
“Our training sessions are a safe space for everything and anything…Do you trust me?” 
Your heart stuttered unable to think of a reply faster than the hot flush set in. “I do trust you…it’s just…just complicated” You muttered, your arms crossing over your chest as you met his gaze. You felt so small and shy like you were about to be scolded by a teacher. Once that was always nice to you and then you suddenly get into their bad books. “Complicated how?” Leon asked, his body now resting on the bench - nudging ammo out of the way to set his arms beside him. His hands looked so good, flexed over the edge of the table. His veins were now more prominent. They always looked well-kept. “Something on my hands?” he laughed meeting your eyeline. You broke out of your trance shaking your head. “No No, they just look good” 
“My hands?” 
God you were just making this worse. Digging yourself deep into a hole you weren’t sure you could get out of. Leon smirked, his teasing attitude written all over his face. He had already caught you out on your own lie, your body language speaking volumes over your words. Leon stood up, sauntering over to your stuttering form, his hands landing on your shoulders instantly calming you. “Do you ever relax?” He chuckled. Leon was so close, yet there was no gun in your hand. He was voluntarily in your space. “It’s hard to relax sometimes” You muttered back, hand rubbing the back of your neck nervously as you met his eyes. Leon chuckled, his face inches from yours. “Let me help you” 
He watched your features for any rejection, giving you time to process his request. His grin grew when he saw it, the subtle nod of your head. His lips were softer than you originally thought they would be as they landed on yours. They worked in sync perfectly with yours. His presence was dominating demanding control which you gladly gave him. Leon spun you around, walking you back towards the shelf he was just perched on. You worked on removing your leggings, whilst he focused on his trousers. The kiss never broke. 
He only broke it to hoist you up on the shelf, his body spreading your legs as he invaded your space. “You impressed me today. Seems our 1-1 time is working” 
Leon tasted like the coffee you had given him this morning mixed with the faint taste of whiskey he drank last night. It was intoxicating. Your tongue already craving more. His compliments melted your brain as his lips muttered them against your neck. Blemishes making themselves known with the sting he left behind. Leon sunk his cock inside of you with a groan. Your walls instantly welcome him, warming him. “Fuck..pretty girl having such a perfect cunt” He grunted as he began to move. 
He made sure you felt every inch, his hips pistoning inside you at such an insane speed. Leon’s hand gripped at your thighs, holding one over his hip as the other hand gripped at your head bringing you in for another kiss. Leon was bold and passionate with you. Worshipping every clench, moan or whimper you gave him as he continued to fuck you. “Such a good girl, I should reward you like this all the time and then maybe you’ll be the best agent there is” 
Your brain faltered at creating any form of a coherent response, the letters jumbling up as your head fell against his shoulder. His praise continued to tighten the coil in your stomach, almost ready to snap. “Be a good girl and cum before the others arrive, I want to feel it around my cock” 
He groaned loudly as you finally snapped, your cum instantly coating his cock coating his trousers. The forces of your orgasm caused his. He moaned as your legs tightened around him, trapping him inside as he coated your walls. “There's more if you break your record in front of the rest of them” 
“Seems like a worthy reward”
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Taglist: @kasueli@luvrgreyy@michellekmsh@miss0giarra@cinnabunnysavvy@redollface@my-loved-figure-skates@luvlouiee@drawboo22@moth-quasar@nyxxoxo@crazy-b1tch
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ohsweetmiko · 11 hours ago
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daisuke headcannons
daisuke [mouthwashing] headcannons!
happy holidays everyone! hope this brings you some joy during this holiday season. remember you are loved, and that people look forward to you. <3
warnings: implied fem! reader contains sfw, as well as nsfw. please read with caution!
loves and reblogs appreciated ❤️
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SFW
· even if you guys are only just friends, he is always the first one to say good morning to you.
· wants to be the first one to put a smile on your face, especially on your bad days.
· hates sharing food, will swat away any hand that even comes close to him. however, only for you he will let his guard down.
· is obsessed with matching jewelry, especially necklaces, earrings and rings. letting you switch out his earrings is a must.
· loves being the little spoon. he just wants to ramble about his day as you hold him close to your chest. it’s always the best part of his day, aside from seeing you!
· pet names would include: love, baby, ma, sweetie, sweetheart, sugar, sweetener, mommy
· is obsessed with your scent. would openly just take a whiff, which would make you giggle. whatever shampoo you use—he needs to know. he’d randomly ask you during a cuddle session “how do you smell so good?”
· is an absolute gentleman. we all know this. will always hold the door for you and pull out your chair with a smile.
· loves watching you as you do something your passionate about. he loves to see you happy and smiling.
· he never really gives effort into his looks, but when you guys go out—thrown out the window. he’s panicking like crazy hoping he’s not underdressed.
· lives for when you play with his hair, especially while cuddling. he loves how relaxing it is for both you and him, as you trail your hand through his brown locs. loves when you pull it too
NSFW
· like i said, is obsessed with your scent. it turns him on so bad—even when you don’t even mean to. you guys could just be cuddling and suddenly he gets all hot and bothered muttering “..you smell nice.”
· mommy kink definitely. should’ve been expected as he has some bad mommy issues. one day you guys were fucking and it must’ve just slipped out. he was so relieved when you said it was fine and that it actually turned you on—is now his #1 pet name when making love.
· poor baby, please praise him. he loves hearing that he’s pleasuring you and that it feels good. it makes him so happy when you whisper how well he’s doing and how proud of him you are.
· hear me out—switch, but leaning bottom, a lot. i feel he’d be the best soft dom if you just need to relax and want him to take control that day. however most of the time your topping from the bottom, haha.
· very vocal in bed. he’s loud in and out of bed! huge, and i mean huge whiner. loves to whimper, as well as to be muffled by you. loves to be muffled by your pussy and chest.
· i think all mouthwashing writers agree he’s the aftercare king. like he’ll prepare a warm, soothing bath for you both and give you a nice massage after. of course it ends with a relaxing cuddle session, as well !
· loves your chest. sucking, squeezing, licking, anything as long as he’s touching your chest. loves putting hickies, definitely some of the deepest ones here.
· loves marking you. it messes him up so bad. he just loves showing everyone he’s yours and you’re his. also wants you to look in the mirror and remember he loves you. loves when you exchange the favor as well,
· makes him so flustered when anyone points out ones he thought he hid, or ones on his partner and they put the pieces together and find out what happened last night. (especially if you guys keeps your relationship low profile.)
· overall, this man is a walking green flag. i literally love him so much he’s my baby 🥹❤️
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wolfstarlibrarian · 2 days ago
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Cowboy Wolfstar Fic Recs
Cowboys have always been cool, and thankfully the number of cowboy AUs is growing! These are a few that I've found but reshare with links to more if you know them, please!
white snakeroot by @maladaptivewriting, something_about_mothman Storms are not uncommon in Remus’s sleepy rural town, what is unusual is spotting a cowboy riding through the rain and wind as if it didn’t touch them. The sightings of the mysterious cowboy have been plaguing Remus since he was a child, but after a chance encounter in one storm, Remus is suddenly flung into a nightmare that he’s not sure he’ll wake from. His friend, James, is missing and all signs point to a ghost town as James’s possible location. With nothing but the company of an old wive’s tale about dangers lurking in the town, Remus abandons his home to search for his friend. Unsure what he’ll find when he gets there, or if he’ll even make it home.
Drover by @krethes There he stands, leaning against the side of the wagon next to the remuda, their band of spare horses, casually picking dirt out from under his nails with the tip of a knife. He's just… watching him. He's dressed for the cold morning in the same brown coat they all wear this time of year, but it looks natural on him, like he was born in it. A small smile plays at the corner of his scar-slashed mouth, and heat floods Sirius face as memories of last night flood his mind, filtering through his groggy haze. OR: Cowboy Wolfstar. That's it. That's the fic.
The Ransom of Black Beauty by spaceboyharry He was whipping wind, humid summer rains, and the silent roll of heat lightning over Southern skies. He was a teeming school of red-breasted bream, a covey of quail in wild meadow-land, the roll of breath from Hagood’s snort on an early January morning. He was a herd of cattle thundering across a Texas plain, rope tight in my fist and thighs sure against my horse. He was hot, heavy, everything, everywhere, all at once. Remus and James need cash, and fast. A botched kidnapping scheme lands them in hot water, but Remus is willing to stand the flames to keep Sirius Black for his own.
Hell Outta Dodge -orphaned account In which Remus Lupin, Texas cowhand extraordinaire, stops to buy a drink from a saloon ran by a certain intriguing bartender.
stars are brighter in the countryside by @fromthetorturedpoet Most people would call him naive, even stupid, for leaving a place full of opportunities. However, as the days passed, he felt less and less comfortable in the environment he was trained to call home. Before he knew it, Sirius decided to venture into the countryside, diving into new friendships and a sweet relationship with a cowboy, capable of bringing him a sense of peace and tranquility he hadn't experienced in years.
The Road to Sweetwater by @euripidestrousers “Well. They don't call me Mad Sirius Black for nothing”, Black drawls lazily, “Speaking of drinks - you got any whiskey in your pack there or just old biscuits? Caught me talking politics and now my throat's awful dry.” Remus lifts his brow incredulously, disbelief creeping into his voice, “You must think I got a real short memory thinking you're owed a drink after that show back there. You clean forget you're at my mercy, and then go trying to steal my horse-” “Not in the habit of letting a man put me in the dirt without buying me a drink”, Black drawls, his grin turning sly, “Or maybe you got something else that'll make defeat a mite easier to swallow.” Sirius Black is wanted by the law in the state of Wyoming and Remus Lupin, who's still deciding which side of the law a bounty hunter sits on, captures him for the price on his head. It should be simple. But there's something in the air that Fall that sets Remus' compass spinning, and nothing seems simple anymore.
*Honorable Mention: Remus is NOT a cowboy in the following fic (I checked with the author) but he does work on a farm and he rides a horse, so I have to include it anyway:
Beneath a Big Blue Sky by @eyra The four-by-four heaves its way down long, twisting lanes, little more than dirt tracks scuffed into the surrounding fields and hemmed in by serpentine walls of flat, grey stone. They truly are in the middle of nowhere: the countryside rushes past, all rolling green hills and vast, endless skies, and it's odious. Sirius wants to murder James with his bare hands. Sirius and James accidentally find themselves on a Yorkshire farm during lambing season. The farmer’s son thinks that’s a bit annoying, actually.
BOOK REC:
Looking for a book similar to these fics? With characters that was SO FREAKING SIMILAR to Remus + Sirius that you’re looking around fandom for the author? Check out this book with an angel face ranch hand, his hippy mom, and a new dark haired stranger who was BETRAYED, WRONGFULLY IMPRISONED, AND OUT FOR REVENGE. Also they've both magic with animals. Guys Like Him by Aimee Nicole Walker 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️
Several heads swiveled in the blond’s direction as he walked by, but Finley seemed unaware of the attention. It stirred uncharacteristic feelings, making him want to mark and claim a man he didn’t even know.
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