#the fact I didn’t notice the dead body the first time because i was laughing at the smash cut from the bridge to the bed

[talesfromthecrypts]

Absolutely unbothered

[unriding]

KINKTOBER DAY 17 — APHRODISIACS. dan heng (hsr) x f!reader! ﾉ link to return to kinktober 2024 masterlist & taglist

it’s only natural that you’d try to play it off, especially when he had already warned you about this ahead of time. your bad, you’ll admit. unfortunately for you though, this aphrodisiac is one of the strongest, and it won’t be going away anytime soon.

CONTAINS — aphrodisiacs, hints of mutual pining, marking, wall sex, squirting (reader cums from him putting it in)

To your surprise and nobody else’s, Dan Heng was right after all.

A small part of you knew he was when he had initially warned you- advised that you stay on the Express because you’d make for an easy target, but you also couldn’t deny that you’d much rather join him than stay cooped up in your room all week.

Any time with Dan Heng is better than no time with Dan Heng, or so you thought. Maybe if you’d pictured this outcome in your head a bit earlier, you wouldn’t have tagged along.

But you’d also rather die than admit you were wrong.

The Express’ hallway looks hazy when you try to make your way back to your room after wishing him a good night. Similar to how the world appears when you’ve come down with a high fever. You think you can feel the blood buzzing in your ears, and it wasn’t even a direct hit. You’re certain of this fact- you’ve always been quick on your feet.

But this one has already started to make you feel lightheaded.

The thought of him taking notice of how your nails dug into his door frame earlier to prevent yourself from collapsing onto the floor haunts you a little. He’s so observant that you’re surprised he hasn’t said anything yet- besides a couple glances and maybe one or two concerned “Are you alright?”

Perhaps he really didn’t know, and you were just that capable of hiding the fact that you’ve been hit with one of the strongest aphrodisiacs in existence.

Though that seems unlikely.

It seems to only worsen with each passing minute. Switches from the initial dull ache between your legs to a sharp throbbing, and you feel so hot. Feverish. Maybe even delirious at this point. It takes all the strength in your body just to roll over in bed and flip open your computer to search if aphrodisiacs can actually kill.

You sure hope not. What’ll happen if you’re dead by morning? Having never kissed Dan Heng a single time?

You don’t even want to imagine a life with that kind of depressing end.

It’s possible that you ended up lasting for another thirty minutes at least. Maybe five in reality. Though it’s hard to keep track of time when you’re rubbing your cunt back and forth against your pillow like it’s the last thing you’ll do. Imagining that it’s him you’re straddling only seems to make it even worse.

You want him so bad.

That’s why after some time, you find yourself in front of his room again- head hanging low, chest rising up and down in heavy pants, and your legs barely able to hold up your weight. You don’t even bother facing him. Not when you can already tell what face he’s making when he says the words,

“I told you that you shouldn’t have come along.”

If you wanted to give him a sheepish laugh, it only comes out as a pained whine instead. “S-sorry,” your eyes widen at how strained your voice sounds, and you think you see him stiffen in front of you. “Do you think….. um, do you know to fix it?”

It falls eerily silent.

“..Please…? I can’t… can’t really.. ask Welt for help.”

“Don’t ask Welt.” His voice softens ever so slightly, but you think there’s something unfamiliar behind it. You suck in a sharp breath as soon as he takes a step forward to reach around you and close the door behind you— slowly, as if giving you time to change your mind. “I know how to help.”

Your first thought is that he smells nice. Really, really nice. You’ve always thought that he’d smell good, but with the way you are now, it’s intoxicating. Your knees almost buckle, and you hope he doesn’t hear you swallow a gulp.

You could just lift your arm and touch him. You could pull him in for a hug and take a deep inhale straight into his chest. You could bury your face deep in-

“If I were to help you fix this, then I would need to touch you.” Your eyes widen, walls instinctively fluttering around nothing at the suggestion. His words carry more weight to them, and you at least know Dan Heng well enough to recognize this as his way of asking if you’re okay.

And you’re much, much more than okay with receiving his help.

“Please…. yes please.”

Time seems to slow down as he closes the distance between the two of you— backs you up until you’re pressed against the wall and your face heats up. Your entire body follows as soon as you look at him, head fuzzy and clouded and you’re barely able to process just how close he is.

This is something you’ve always wanted. Maybe even dreamed about.

“I…” your eyes slam shut when you feel him hike up your skirt— slowly, and his fingers briefly ghost over your waist before he finally slots his thigh between your legs and nudges. “F-fuck..!” Your head falls back, back of your hand instinctively coming to hide your face— and he freezes.

That sensitive? You didn’t know it was possible for it to worsen. If you weren’t in such a daze, maybe you’d feel more embarrassed about it. “Close your eyes,” his voice is so close that it sends a shiver down your spine, “and let me touch you more.”

You listen. It’s a confirmation to him that you desperately need his help— because you never listen. “You’re lucky that you weren’t hit directly,” you feel him tilt your chin up, and a part of you wishes you could hold it— nuzzle your cheek against his palm— but then something suddenly clicks in your head.

“..You… you saw—”

His lips slot against yours the next second. Just one peck, and then another. It shuts you up immediately- sends a weird warmth coursing through your body and bubbles up in your core. Feels good. Feels good and he hasn’t even started. He pulls away, only to mumble a “yeah. I saw everything. I always keep an eye on you because you never listen..though I couldn’t make it to you in time” before his lips are back on yours.

To his surprise, you keep your eyes shut like he told you to. Maybe it’s all too much for you to take in, so closing your eyes and focusing solely on how he feels is the only way you know you’re not dreaming. Your body goes into overdrive, knees buckling as soon as he deepens the kiss and you almost moan when you feel him wrap an arm around you to keep you upright.

You’re practically melting. Melting into the kiss- letting him pull you even closer and letting him press his thigh into your cunt. Everything after that becomes a blur in your head. Where you end and he starts is something you don’t bother thinking about. It’s a mess of kisses— deep and full of tongue— and he trails them down your neck, ends just below your ear after he’s kissed every inch of your skin.

You’re certain he’s left marks, but his lips feel too good for you to care. The exact moment when he picked you up to press your back against the wall never registered in your head either. You only open your eyes when you finally feel him prod at your hole, and your heartbeat is practically thumping against your ribcage. “I’m going in. Hold tight.”

He starts to pushes inside, and your vision goes white. “Wait— w-wai—” You choke, embrace around his neck slipping, loosens just a bit too much and you sink down onto his length— mouth falling open in a silent scream as soon as he bottoms out in one rough motion.

It hits you all at once. A violent orgasm that rips from deep inside you- one you’re not quite familiar with- has you screaming into his shoulder, nails digging into the muscles of his back as you gush all over him. He practically growls at the feeling, fingers digging into your thighs even when they tremble and jerk against him.

The room falls silent aside from your panting and his breathing. Your walls spasm around his thickness- strongly feeling the aftershocks, and he feels your slick dripping down his cock and onto the floor beneath you.

“‘S n-no fair at all,” you whimper, “feels too good. I’m almost scared—”

“Don’t say things like that.” If it was even possible, he holds you even closer. Even with the softness in his voice, you can tell he’s struggling to hold back. “You don’t need to think about anything,” he reminds you, “just hold tight and let yourself feel everything.”

“Trust me to take care of it.”

dividers by @ cafekitsune

[jyoongim]

THE WAY U WRITE THE OLD RED DEMON MAN IS JUST SO NEKEKDKEOWB

Might I just add onto the seemingly continuous alastor requests. I'd love to see Alastor x Reader where reader is in heat and Al finds it pathetic but takes pity on them and helps anyway bc like poor thing can't even get their own instincts in control they're obviously hopeless

warnings: 18+!!!NSFW

You thought when you died you would be rid of hormones.

Periods were a pain while living, but this is was worst.

When you were alive, your periods plagued you with mood swings, random cravings, and pain.

Now that you were dead, you didn’t experience the dreadful red flood and raging mood swings; no. Now all you felt was unbelievably horny and needy.

And you hated it.

You usually carried yourself with confidence and elegance.

You usually liked to help around the hotel and were generally friendly with everyone.

You grimaced as you woke up to feel just how drenched your panties were. I really need to stock up on new underwear you thought as you tossed the ruined panties into the hamper.

You usually spent your heats alone and could hide in a hole until you felt normal again. You usually could control yourself well enough til you had enough free time to ease the tension between your legs.

Or until you found a poor sinner.

Weeeeellll that was hard when you lived in a hotel with a ton of shit to do. You really didn’t want to hear Angel’s jabs as you dragged some unfortunate soul to endear your sex rage.

You sighed, hopefully you could get through the next few days without embarrassing yourself completely.

So far so good you thought as you went about your day doing whatever activity Charlie had you do with the group.

Every touch and scent didn’t send your cunt into a tingling frenzy; yes you had to change your panties a few times but nothing crazy.

That was until you were around Alastor.

Your body practically buzzed whenever the tall red demon was in your vicinity.

You first chalked it up to that it was because you did found him attractive and simply thought it would go away.

But your cunt begged a differ.

You squirmed a bit on the couch as Alastor took a seat beside you, clenching your thighs to ease the uncomfortable throbbing.

It didn’t help that he smelled amazing.

Alastor smelled like evergreens how y’all ever smelled Christmas pine??? That shit is delicious!!!!

And you didn’t realized you had took a deep inhale of him until he turned to you

”Is everything alright my dear?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

fuck how were you going to tell him you wanted to bury your nose into his neck and just SNIFF? 

“O-oh I’m f-fine…i-its just you smelled nice?” You wanted to facepalm.

He blinked at you before letting out a laugh “OOooh why thank you my dear” that shit eating grin widened, voice dropping a slight octave“I must smell very enticing if you’re sniffing at me” his eyes narrowed slightly.

A shiver ran through your body and you swear you were leaking through onto the couch. You wanted to die of embarrassment.

“I-I just never noticed before that’s all” You said shrugging, trying to ignore the fact that his very voice was affecting you.

Charlie had ended whatever the hell you were doing and you quickly made your way to your room, causing some confusion.

You were usually a social butterfly with the gang. You never not chat away with Angel as he told the wild shit he did on set.

“Has got to be that time of the month” Angel commented as you almost sprinted out the room. Charlie and Vaggie gave confused looks ”what?” He sighed “You know…” nope not a clue.

”She was a human remember? Every so often her pussy basically shreds itself to bits”

Charlie gasped “So she’s hurt? Shouldn’t we do something?” Angel laughed,shaking his head “Nah we can’t help. But she'll be fine. Just give her a few days and she'll be normal again”

Alastor was in the background listening, the smile on his face sharpened, you weren’t hurt or bleeding, but there was definitely something that could be done.

You snarled as your vibrator died and tossed it. You groaned as your clit continued to throb. You had thought four orgasms would have did the trick but nope you still had the irritating itch.

You didn’t own a dildo because it was pointless.

it wasn’t the real thing.

You wanted to cry. This was your first heat while you’ve been at the hotel and you didn’t just want to drag a stranger here.

You had more control than that.

At least that’s what you thought.

You had locked yourself in your room as you tore your room to bits. The walls were shredded, pillows and sheets drenched in slick and your poor toy was in pieces.

Panting, you curled in a corner and tugged at your hair, squeezing your eyes tight as tears began to pool in your eyes.

You hated this.

 You hated how it felt like you didn’t even feel like yourself. 

Hated that you couldn’t even control your own damn bodily function.

Hated how your body desperately wanted to be filled.

You would give anything to make this horrid feat of yours go away.

“I would have never thought to see you in such a state my dear”

You froze at the voice and jerked your head to the source.

Alastor.

He was standing at the entrance of your bedroom, a smirk on his face as he took in the state of your room.

”I must say, it. Is rather entertaining to see your lack of control” he said as he approached your curled form.

He crouched down, feigning a concerned look before a clawed hand seized your hair and wrenched your face til your noses were bumping against each other.

”did you think I couldn’t smell you?” He growled “You smell just like a bitch in heat”

You whimpered as his lips ghosted over yours “I-I’m sorry”

His scent was surrounding you. It was a drug. Assaulting your every nerve with each breath you took.

He smelled so good 

please

”Please” you whispered as your cunt buzzed, tingling from his clos proximity and in hopes he would have mercy on you.

Alastor sucked his teeth at you. What a pitiful thing you were…

With a deep breathe, he stood and walked over to your ruined bed and sat. You watched as he sat his mic down and removed his coat. Yanking at his tie, he unbuttoned his shirt and looked over at you with narrowed eyes “Well? Do you want to continue to ruin your furnishings or do you wish to satisfy that brazen desire of yours?”

He widened his legs and your eyes honed in on how he unbuckled his pants.

Your throat tightened and you found yourself crawling over to him, no regard that you were naked.

Kneeling between his legs, your hands soothed up his thighs as your rubbed your head against his crotch.

Alastor lifted your chin for your eyes to meet his. Your eyes were blown out and you winced as his grip tightened.

”I pity you my dear, reduced to wanton whore, but don’t fret…Ill help you through your heat” a thumb ran over your pouty lip.

Your cunt clenched around nothing at his words.

You damn near drooled as he adjusted himself to pull his cock free from its restraints.

It was big, in both length and girth. It slapped against your face, causing you to hum at the weight of it.

You nuzzled it, nose gliding along his length before softly pressing kissed along it. When you came to his mushroom tip, you didn’t hesitate to suck at it. Alastor sighed as you gave the head of his cock kitten licks.

Head clouded with desire, you slowly bobbed your head along his length, taking him whole as you gagged once you reached the hilt.

You eased him out your throat and with a sickening pop, you admired as his spit-covered cock shined. You opted to jerk him off slowly as you buried your nose in his ball, inhaling his scent.

Alastor’s hand found your hair and guided you away from his cock, bringing you to climb up his body, until your smoldering heat was rubbing against his cock as he pressed kisses to your shoulder and neck. A gasp tore from your throat as he nipped at your jaw.

”On fours my dear”

Clumsily, you scrambled to follow his instruction. You must not have been to his liking because he pressed your head til your cheek was flat to the bed, back in a deep low arch, thighs pressed to your stomach and spreaded wide with your ass and cunt exposed to the air. 

You would have blushed in embarrassment if you weren’t so turned on.

A hand glided down your back, causing you to shiver and then jolt as a harsh slap was planted on your ass, before it soothed over the burning cheek.

Alastor kneaded your ass before sliding his fingers down to your cunt.

Your slit was swollen and your clit, puffy with need. 

You were dripping.

He dipped a finger inside you, testing how wet you were.

Soppy. 

He added a second, your cunt greedily welcomed his fingers with ease, giving into resistance.

He chuckled “What a greedy cunt, sucking in my fingers like a cock”

You whined when he took his fingers out, already missing the feel of something inside you.

Alastor took his cock and rubbed it against your cunt, coating himself in your slick.

”I am going to fuck you to your little sinful heart desires and you are going to be grateful of everything I give you. You are going to take every bit of my cum until it spills from this cunt and then again and again until I have bred you so thoroughly. Do you understand slut?”

You were breathing heavily, trembling in excitement.

With a single, sharp thrust he filled your cunt, earning a soft cry from you.

”Do you understand?”he hissed through clenched teeth.

”Y-Yes A-Alastor”. you whimpered, eyes clenched shut in pleasure.

”Good girl”

He drew back and thrusted into you again

And again

And again

He had set a slow, but rough pace. Thrusting his cock deep into the soft warmth of your cunt with each drag.

Soft moans filled the air as he buried his cock inside you.

It felt so good. 

He reached depths your finger couldn’t quite reach.

And it was amazing.

”A-Ala-stor Aah! Aaah! Hah!” You pushed your hips against his, mewling loudly as he grinned his cock into you.

”Youre pathetic ” He laughed, eyes watching his cock disappeared inside you, giving you a hard thrust at his words.

”Nothing but pathetic slut who can’t control their own body”

His grip on your hips pulled you flushed against him, making you take him til his balls was nestled against your slit.

”You probably would have spreaded your legs for any poor sinner, just wanting to be fucked dumb” Your body rippled as his thrusts got harder.

Your cunt only got wetter.

He noticed as he seemed to sink even deeper into you, as if your cunt loosened to welcome him

”oh? I bet you would have liked that wouldn’t you? So out of sorts with need that you would have just anyone bred this cunt”

He growled at the squelching noises from your cunt, you shook your head in denial.

No. No you wouldn’t haven’t done something like that.

”N-no I-I wouldn’t-” You cried out as his finger ghosted over your swollen clit.

”You would have been happy to bend over and offer your cunt to anyone, as long as you had a cock fill you” Alastor continued before a cruel, deep laugh erupted from him

”But instead you sought me out. I had no intention in satisfying you, but what a gentleman would i had been if I ignored a lady in need?” You felt him lean over, hips never missing a beat as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder.

”Oooh how fortunate you are my dear”

You were suddenly flipped onto your back. Hair sprawled around you like a halo, your chest heaving as he pushed your knees to your chin. 

Your lidded eyes watching as he slide his cock between your pussy lips, bumping your clit. He grabbed your wrists, using them as leverage as he thrusted back into you, the new angle making your throw your head back with a broken cry

”FuuuuuUccckk Ah Ah AH!” His hips dug into the underside of your ass as he pounded your cunt.

Alastor hadn’t lost composure the entire time he fucked you.

He watched as you fell apart, your hips wiggling to accommodate to his harsh administrations.

Your cunt took him so good. A white, creamy ring formed at his base as he scraped against that sponges nerve inside you.

You welcomed him gratefully. Letting him wrench pleasurable sounds from your pretty lips.

Pushing your raised legs apart, he lowered his weight on you as he slammed his lips on yours, swallowing your moans. Your tongues danced as he rocked into your body.

The sounds of him ruining your cunt pushed him to fulfill your primal desire.

You felt that familiar blaze of heat take over your body as Alastor fucked short rapid thrusts into you.

Every brush of his abdomen against your clit had your cunt going haywire.

You were going to cum.

Alastor was going to make you cum.

You moaned at the thought

You were gonna cum on his cock

And he was gonna breed you

Breed your soppy cunt

and you were going to let him

”please….” You whined into his mouth

Fuck the very thought had your body buzzing.

”please what?” he purred

Your head was reeling, foggy with the need to be filled.

A hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing

“What are you begging me for slut? Hmm?” His strokes were hitting harder and deeper.

”You want me to breed your cunt? You want to me to fill you up so good that all you’ll ever think is how my cum belongs inside you? What do the little slut want?”

Yes you wanted all of it.

You wanted him to fuck you so good, you wouldn’t even think of wanting another cock from his.

You wanted him to fill your cunt to the brim and then fuck it back inside.

You wanted him to breed you like the little slut you were.

To breed you til he had his fill.

Your instincts had practically took over, fuck sanity.

”Mhmm! I want it. I want you to Ah! I want you to fill me with your cum! Please please breed me Alastor” You whined, feeling your belly clench as your orgasm hung over you, promising sweet relief.

The hand around your throat, tightened causing you to gasp as he spoke into your ear, voice deep and purring

”Youre gonna make yourself cum on my cock slut”

your hand flew to your clit to flick fast circles on the bud.

Alastor’s thrusts quickened, growls pouring from his lips

”Who’s a filthy little slut?”

”M-Me”

”Whos a pathetic slut that’s gonna take my cum?”

”Me!”

”Fucking slut gonna let be breed her dumb”

A sob tore from you as your orgasm washed over you, he fucked you as you milked him, hips angled to thrusts so deep you’re sure your cunt had molded into the shape of his cock

”hah hah aaah fuuucckk fuck fuck Al-Alastor!”

You saw white as your mouth opened in a silent scream only for him to swallow the whine in your throat.

”That’s it you pathetic slut take it. Take my cum. That’s a good girl. Let me breed this sweet cunt cher” your hips raised as he sunk into you and with a deep groan, he cummed into your spasming cunt, making sure to thrust deep enough he hit your cervix as he painted your walls white.

Whether conscious or by instinct, you gave him a ditzy smile, eyes glazed over as you slowly rubbed your clit, whimpering. Holding eye contact with him, a soft pout graced your lips

“Again”

You truly were a pathetic, needy little thing.

But don’t worry pretty Doe, Alastor’s going to make sure you

satisfied and stuffed to your heart’s content

 It was going to be very interesting for the next 36 hours…

@markster666 @alastorsfawn @senseichaos @alastoralltruist @dasimp777 @imgonnadielaughing-blog @thewinchestah @strawberrypimp666 @tpks @stygianoir @polytheatrix @prosciuttosblog @angelltheninth @peachedtv @yourdoorisunlocked @kiralaufeyson84

[frmisnow]

play pretend ! ₊⟡⋆ nsfw.

the premise of fake dating your best friend, for just a weekend, is hilarous.. and scary. but what happens after is even scarier.. it's just play pretend right?

warnings / includes — sex, heavy fwb themes, bit of angst

shame coated you when you woke up in one of the guest rooms, carefully placed onto the bed at about 3am by no other then jungkook while you were dead hungover. pure rotten shame rests in your cheeks, paints them red when you say bye to his family a few hours later as jungkook couldn't quite even look at you.

everything about him was different. the way he moved around you, the way he avoided looking directly at you. hell, even his voice sounded quieter, less confident, like he didn’t know what to do either.

something had changed him, for the worse.

and it was all your damn fault.

you had thought the car ride would give you both time to defrost, pretend that whatever happened the night earlier did in fact not happen, crack some jokes but to no avail — long, defening silence.

silence and shame don't go well together, the color they create on the canvas of yours, it soaked through you. stayed with you for the next five days, it's the color of the message you send him at 11 pm on saturday, asking him how he was doing.

it's the ugly color of the 'delivered' button that stays there for the following two days.

the dress you wear to the next party is bright, anything to drown out the guilt that was eating you alive.

the music is loud, and so are you. laughing a little too hard, moving a little too close to anyone who shows you attention. you take another sip of whatever is in your cup, the liquid burning its way down your throat but dulling the ache in your chest.

and then there’s him.

you don’t see Jungkook immediately, but you feel him before your eyes catch his across the room. you feel the way the air shifts, the way your stomach churns when you notice the familiar set of his jaw, the way his eyes flicker toward you.

you almost drop your drink.

because it feels like a candid flashback of that night—only now it’s all so different. why did things have to be so complicated?

you’re pressed against some guy you barely know, his lips grazing your neck in a way that should distract you. you’ve been letting it happen, letting him flirt, letting his hands wander because it’s easier than thinking about the mess you left unresolved.

but then there’s jungkook. he stands on the other side, the neon light painting his face; his look wasn't judging. maybe light disappointment but more observing then anything, really. and it reminded you of how you used to stare at him whenever he was going after various girls at these exact sorts of parties.

it makes you sick, makes the unfamilar hands on your body feel foul and uninviting, it's not the fire burning through you like it had that night, it's cold ice, slowly creeping through your veins, making it's way to your brain.

said ice whispers things you don't want to hear, reminds you of things you don't want to think about.

"fuck, i think i like you."

you run of upstairs to the nearest balcony, the house was familar one of your mutual friends', this place was where you used to play spin the damn bottle in high school. now it feels haunted, just as univiting as the guy's hands felt a few minutes ago, why did everything feel so distant now? first jungkook, now everything else. why was it so consuming?

you light up a cigarette, you didn't usually smoke but you wanted to feel that fire again, the warmth, the pure need from a week ago. you regreted not having fucked the guy because you were sure he could've made you forget for longer then this cig could.

“thought I might find you here,” he says behind you, kneeling next to you yet keeping a safe distance, his voice low and cautious.

"you shouldn't have," you respond coldly, because anger is a better emotion to feel then regret and you had plenty things to be frustrated about, "you've been avoiding me for a whole week, don't pretend like you give a fuck." you don't meet his eyes, just take another drag.

but you see him flinch in the corner of your eye. great, the guilt sits in you once again.

he shifts slightly, and you can feel the tension radiating off him , “i know I’ve been a jerk, but it’s not that simple—”

“then make it simple.” your voice is sharper than you intended, but the hurt has festered for too long. you finally turn to face him, “i need to know what you want. because this? whatever this is? it’s fucking misery.”

the words hang heavily in the air, and for a moment, silence stretches between you. jungkook looks like he’s grappling with his thoughts, the tension in his body palpable. then, slowly, he closes the distance between you, his eyes softening as he cups your face in his hands.

“can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice a whisper, as if the question itself is laced with vulnerability.

you nod, and the moment your lips touch, it’s like everything else fades away. the kiss starts soft, gentle, as if he’s savoring the moment, and you can feel your heart begin to race.

it's nothing like the previous fire you had wished to experience earlier, it's delicate warming sunlight, brushing over your skin, washing away the hideous color that had built over the last few days.

“friends with benefits,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and sweet. “we get to have this-” he kisses you again, slow and lingering, “—without the pressure of expectations.”

“expectations?” you echo, your mind racing as you try to process his words.

“yeah,” he replies, his lips brushing against yours, each touch sending shivers down your spine. “we can enjoy each other without worrying about where it’s going. just... pure fun.” his hands toy with the hem of your dress, before returning your gaze.

time slips quick, it all feels so raw, so different from that night yet all so much better.

his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer, driving deep inside you with a primal urgency. you can feel the way he fills you, stretching you perfectly. you're so glad you aren't drunk, that you'll remember this in the morning and the day after.

you claw at his back, nails digging in, urging him on, needing more, wanting all of him. and he curses, runs his mouth like the talkative brat you knew he always was, degrades you one second, tentatively kisses your cheeks the next.

his hands rest on your tighs as he kisses along your clit once again, sweet, real. taunts you 'for the mess you made on your friend's coach' but he doesn't give you time to feel guilty, just starts nuzzling his face back into your pussy, licking along.

no, jungkook will never make you feel the same guilt again. you're sure of it, well — not that you could really properly think under these conditions anyway.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

You would hit BELIEVE how happy I am that you’re writing fics for Declan O’Hara he’s my new DILF obsession!!! Also it was so well-written and in-character, oh my goodness!

I was wondering if I could request a fic where Declan and female!reader are having an affair, and she’s super nervous because she’s Taggie’s best friend. She meets Declan one night in his car, and he calms her down and, obviously, they have car sex.

Ending this with a huge I LOVE YOUR WORK

Shut Up and Drive.

It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? The one person who riles you up the most is also the only person that can calm you down.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. age gap. cheating. declan and his dirty mouth. one use of the c word. overuse of the nickname sweetheart.

word count - 3k

authors note - the minute he put that baby blue t shirt on… I was suddenly on my knees. funny how that happens. can’t and won’t stop with the fics for this man. I am riding the rivals train to the ends of the earth, baby. thanks for being so sweet, anon <3

masterlist. inbox.

The phone is shaking in your trembling hand, cord all tangled where you keep twisting it around your finger nervously.

“Hello?”

You almost drop the receiver at the sound of that familiar Irish accent, despite the fact that you were the one that rang him. It has your stomach churning, in a different way than usual.

“H-hi,” you barely whisper, before clearing your throat and trying again. “Hi. It’s me.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he breathes, as if it’s the first time he’s taken a lungful of air all day.

“I, um… I’m sorry to call you on the house phone. I know it’s not how we do things usually.”

“It’s alright. What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I just, uh… I called to say that I can’t do this anymore.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I would have told you in person, but I didn’t know when I was going to see you next, so.”

“Can we-” he begins, before lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, “-can we talk about this properly? Please?”

“We can’t. I can’t. We shouldn’t.”

“Sweetheart, I’m beggin’ ya. One conversation. You’re not ending this in a quick phone call on a Wednesday night, you hear me?”

You inhale deeply, biting at your lips. There’s pure anxiety radiating through your body, prickly and unrelenting.

“I hear you,” you murmur down the receiver. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he sighs in relief. “I’m gonna come and get ya - we’ll go for a drive, alright?”

“Sorry you have to lie,” you whisper, guilt colouring your tone.

“I’d lie for you a thousand times over.”

His words shouldn’t make you feel as giddy as they do, but alas. Here you are.

“I’ll put some shoes on.”

“And a coat. It’s cold as fuck tonight.”

You half laugh, half snort at him down the phone, dreamily imagining the grin he most likely has painted on his face listening to you.

“Yes sir,” you tease, giggling. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll drive up without my headlights on. Look out for me, yeah?”

“I will.”

I always do, you think to yourself. I always do.

The line goes dead abruptly, the buzzing vibrating straight into your temples. You slip your shoes on, quickly fixing your hair and touching up your makeup in the mirror in the hallway while you’re there. You shrug your arms into your coat at Declan’s orders, knowing he’d tell you off if you turned up without it on.

You’ve almost forgotten the entire reason you called in the first place was to break things off with him.

Almost.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

True to his word, Declan drives up your road without his headlights on, slowly and with practised precision.

You’re waiting at the window for him, patiently anticipating the sight of that stupid yellow car. You’re out of the door in seconds as soon as you see him, bounding towards the passenger side and slipping in before anyone notices. He drives off quickly, not taking any time to say hello before he’s taking off out of the town and towards the rolling countryside.

You drive for a good fifteen minutes, to a spot the two of you frequent on your drives. It’s a dirt track, leading to nothing but fields for miles on end. Declan pulls the car around the bend and out of sight from the busier road, knowing that it has more than enough privacy. You’ve never been caught here before, and you don’t plan to start.

Finally turning off the engine, he turns to face you, taking in how the moonlight illuminates your features in the lowlight of the car.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

You’re refusing to look at him, knowing that if you do, you’ll surge over and kiss him until you’re both dizzy. You can feel his gaze on you, though, intense and unwavering. As it always is.

His thumb and pointer finger hook under your chin, forcing you to stare straight into his determined brown eyes. You’re willing yourself not to crumble, but you can feel your resolve starting to slip already.

“I missed you,” he whispers, careful not to spook you.

“I missed you too,” you say before you can stop yourself. “Shit.”

He chuckles, and the low timbre of it settles right in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s all this about then, hmm? The phone call?”

“What did you tell Taggie? Where did you say you were going?”

It’s your least favourite part about all of this, the lying. Lying to Taggie, to Patrick, to Caitlin, to Rupert, to your friends, to your family. Coming up with excuses has become second nature - something you hate about yourself now. You hate how it comes so naturally to both of you these days.

“Told her I was going to meet someone about some potential research for a show. She had evening plans anyway, she’s off out to Lizzie’s.”

You’re fiddling with your fingers, picking at your nails in a nervous habit as you chew your bottom lip. If anxiety was personified, it’d be you.

“You avoided my question. We need to talk about what you said on the phone, sweetheart.”

Taking a deep breath, you turn in your seat to face him properly, going over the speech you’ve practised in your head dozens of times.

“Okay. I’m… I’m not sure we should do this anymore. I- I just… I feel guilty. For lying to Taggie, mainly. And because you’re technically still married, but mainly for lying to Tag. She’s the closest friend I have, and I’m sleeping with her father. It makes me a terrible person, Declan. I have to put a stop to it.”

He processes your words for a moment, looking at you intently.

“Do ya want to?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to? Put a stop to things? Or do you just feel like you should? For other people.”

You want to lie, tell him exactly what you had planned out, feed him what you know will work. But you can’t. You can lie to everyone… except Declan.

“I don’t want to,” you whisper. “But I should. We should.”

“Why now? Did something happen? Did someone say something?”

“No, no. I just… Taggie said something really sweet the other day about how she was glad that she had me, because making friends here hasn’t been easy for her. And it should have made me happy, and instead, it broke my heart.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Declan cradles your face in his rough hands, resting his forehead against yours. It’s like the whole world melts away for a moment, leaving just the two of you in the tiny yellow car.

“I’m a horrible person,” you mumble. “And a horrible friend.”

“You’re speaking as if it’s just you. And it’s not, you know. There’s two of us in this affair - I’m just as guilty as you are.”

“Fine then. We’re both horrible people.”

He chuckles, breath tickling your face, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. His lips are brushing yours every time he speaks, meaning you can practically taste the cigarette smoke and spearmint on his tongue.

“I never claimed otherwise,” he retorts, still smiling.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit as his thumbs sweep back and forth across your cheekbones. “It’s weighing down my conscience, and I don’t want to hurt Tag. But… I can’t give you up, Declan. I need you. I need you more than anything.”

“You make me crazy. God, I think about you night and day, sweetheart. My thoughts revolve around if I’ve seen you and when I’m going to see you next.”

“So what do we do? I can’t quit this. I can’t quit you, I can’t quit us. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. I wish I had the answers… I wish I could make all your worries go away. But I can’t.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just… I thought that I could do it in one clean sweep. Get it out the way, you know? Call you, end things, be done. And then the minute I heard your voice over the phone… I knew I couldn’t do it. Because deep down, I didn’t want to.”

He leans in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, desperate to be close to you.

“Declan.”

“If I could fix it all for you, I would,” he murmurs against your skin. “You know I would.”

You pull back to put some distance in between you, watching him carefully for his reaction to what you say next.

“You should break things off.”

He flinches as if you’ve punched him in the stomach.

“What?”

“You should. I clearly can’t, so you have to be the one to do it. Do it, Declan. End things with me right here, right now. Please.”

Your tone is weak and unconvincing, as if you can’t even bring yourself to say the words with any conviction.

“I can’t,” he confesses, voice breaking on the last word. “I can’t do it.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, exhaling it slowly as if he’s buying himself some time. You wait patiently for him to continue, nerves frayed at the edges.

“Because I love you.”

Now it’s your turn to flinch, his admission smacking you across the face violently.

“You-”

“Yes. I love you, sweetheart. It’s taken me a while to figure all of this out, but I know it now. That’s why I’ve never been able to end this. Because it’s not just incredible sex… it’s something more. Something real.”

There are tears welling in your eyes as you look at him, watching the way he lays his heart on his sleeve in the moonlight just for you.

“I’m scared,” you confess. “I love you too and it scares me.”

You don’t miss the way his face lights up as you say it, but he’s trying to keep a careful lid on his emotions for now.

“I’m not going to let anything bad happen to ya. You know that.”

All you can do is nod in response, digesting everything that has happened in the last five minutes. You do know that. He’s proven time and time again that you’re not just some fleeting fling to him.

“Declan?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Now he grins like an idiot, eyes alive with adrenaline and hope.

“That’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard ya say.”

You tuck some hair behind his ear before leaning in to gently press your lips to his, wanting to seal the moment. He kisses you back sweetly at first, before taking control with more force, slipping his tongue into your mouth cheekily. You happily let him take the lead, sighing in contentment as you melt into him.

“C’mere.”

Climbing over onto his lap, you hinge your legs on either side of his in the drivers seat, straddling his hips. You try to straighten up but end up hitting your head on the roof of the car, which makes you both wheeze with laughter.

“This car is too fucking small,” you grumble, rubbing the spot that you smacked.

“Y’alright? Want me to kiss it better?”

You hate the way the teasing tone in his voice shoots right to your core, shaking your head in defiance.

“Fuck off,” you mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Patronising bastard.”

“I like it when you get your claws out,” he chuckles, tracing patterns on your thighs over your jeans. “S’hot.”

You kiss him again to shut him up, biting at his bottom lip in punishment. He groans all low and slow, which makes you grind your hips into his, despite the multiple layers of clothing separating you.

“Backseat,” he whispers, pushing you off of him gently. “More room.”

You splay yourself across the wide back seat, opening your legs so Declan can slot in between them.

“You’ve got too many clothes on,” he prompts as he shrugs off his own jacket and undoes his belt.

You can’t help but chuckle at his impatience, happily taking off your coat and jumper and unbuttoning your jeans. Your breath catches in your throat when you look back up at him - he’s wearing the Venturer t shirt that hugs his biceps just right, accentuating every delicious muscle he has to offer you.

“Wore it for you,” he mutters against your lips. “Know you like me in a t shirt.”

You roll your eyes but kiss him with determination anyway, all teeth and tongue and clashing bodies. You’re clawing at his clothed shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist to buck your hips into his.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “Lying awake at night thinking about your thighs, your tits, your cunt.”

All you can do is sigh, fingers digging into his biceps in desperation.

“Wish I could take my time with you like you deserve. These quick fucks just aren’t the same.”

He sounds almost upset about it, voice staying deep and low.

“Remember that time I stayed the night? And you couldn’t walk in the morning?”

You laugh breathily, thinking back fondly to that night a few months ago. You’d both orchestrated it so carefully, crafting cautious lies and fabricated stories to snatch a good sixteen hours of time together.

“Need that again soon. Might have to start sneaking ya into my house in the dark, make you climb the gutters like we’re in a film. Although, it is a bit hard to keep you quiet.”

You try valiantly to ignore the heat that flushes across your chest as he teases you, knowing that he’s right.

“Declan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

You grab his hand and shove it down your underwear, jeans trapped around your thighs. There’s very minimal room in this tiny car, but you’re both determined to make it work. He groans when he feels how wet you are, swiping through your core.

“Fuck me. Have you been like this the entire time?”

“Since this afternoon,” you whimper, trying to grind down onto his fingers. “Couldn’t stop thinking about when you ate me out on my kitchen worktop last week. My legs were shaking for two days afterwards.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, slipping a finger into you as he drops his head onto your shoulder. “I got myself off thinking about that yesterday. I swear if I concentrate, I can still taste you on my tongue.”

All you can do is whimper, desperate to have him in any way you can. The fact that you have the same effect on him that he does on you makes your head spin, dizzy with want.

“Don’t make me wait,” you beg, cradling his face so he has to look you in the eye. “Fuck me, please. Please, Declan.”

“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll give ya anything you want. Anything.”

He shuffles around so he’s sat back on his knees, pushing his jeans and underwear down just enough to free himself. You spread your legs as wide as you can, trying to give him as much room as possible. It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself in this position in this car with him - and it won’t be the last.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, licking across your teeth with his tongue. “Most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

He slides into you with ease, both of you gasping at the familiar sensation. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as he holds your hips in a bruising grip, pads of his fingertips biting into your flesh.

Declan doesn’t waste any time, setting a relentless pace that has you bouncing across the seat. The car is shaking like crazy, all the windows fogged up - anyone who passes will know exactly what’s happening inside.

The man above you can read you like a book and play you like a fiddle. He knows the exact angles of his hips that’ll have you keening, the certain spots to focus on that’ll have you seeing stars. He knows you better than anyone, in more ways than one.

“That’s it,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Atta girl. Taking it like you were made for me.”

“Maybe I was,” you breathe, tipping your head back to give him access to your neck. “Just for you.”

He groans all melted and golden like molten honey, the vibrato of it rumbling through your bones. You’re holding onto him for dear life, as if he’s the only thing tethering you to this reality. When his thumb finds your clit to rub firm, slow circles, you’re convinced you’re floating on another plane of existence.

The only word you can seem to formulate is Declan, which only pushes him closer to the finish line. He’s determined to get you there first, angling his hips upward to hit that one spot that has you gasping. When he moves one hand to your throat and gently squeezes, you fall apart instantly, taking him with you.

“I love you,” he breathes as he comes, forehead resting on yours. “My girl.”

You’re shuddering and shaking as you lie underneath him, panting like you’ve just ran ten miles. Declan collapses on top of you, laying his head on your chest comfortably. Your fingers rake through his hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp like you’ve done so many times before.

You both allow yourselves to close your eyes for a minute, recovering and attempting to catch your breath. You’re convinced, for a moment, that you’ll never feel more peaceful than you do right now. You breathe each other in, satiated and content.

You finally open your eyes, expecting to see nothing but fogged windows and starlit darkness. Instead, you see a man bending down, looking straight at you. Arguably the worst possible person that could see the two of you in the position you’re in.

Rupert Campbell Black.

He’s grinning like an idiot, shaking his head in disbelief.

You’re about to warn the man in your arms when Rupert opens the car door, slipping himself into the drivers seat and spinning so he’s facing you. Declan has jumped out of his skin, jolting upwards to cover you as best he can.

Rupert smirks all dirty and knowing, eyes dancing over your half naked forms.

“Well, well, well. Secrets out, lovers.”

@graceflorence @dionysus-drabbles

as aaaaaaaalways… reblogs are golden!! they’re the currency of tumblr, my loves. you reblog, and your favourite writers will write you more fics. simple as that. mwah. <3

[spence-whore]

I wonder if u might do a Spencer besties to lovers fic (:

‘Best Friends’

Spencer Agnew x Reader

a/n forewarning, i read through this like four times but i don’t have the time to heavily edit it. please overlook the mistakes lmao but i hope you guys like this one:)

Ever since your first day at Smosh, you have felt loved and important. They were like a huge family, just welcoming you in. There was one specific crew member that you grew close to and that was Spencer. Everyone was always giving the two of you shit because you were always glued to each other’s hips. They swore up and down that the two of you were going to pull a Courtney and Shayne but on the entire crew, announcing the fact that you and Spencer were together this entire time.

When in reality, he was just your best friend. You would give everything for it to be more than that but it never would turn out that way. He only sees you as his best friend, nothing more.

“Y/N!” Angela screamed while standing in front of your table. You were currently eating lunch while scrolling on your phone.

“Angela!” You attempted to scream back before giggling and almost choking on your chips.

“Your husband was looking for you.” Amanda announced while pulling up a chair beside you. You rolled your eyes and glared at her. “What did he want?” She just shrugged her shoulders and started to talking to Angela about the next shoot. Their rambling lasted for a good five minutes talking about some characters they were wanting to try out in Try Not to Laugh before you heard footsteps approaching from the corner.

You could immediately tell it was Spencer. You didn’t even have to turn your head to look and see who it was. “Hey Spice.” You said loudly while stuffing your mouth with more chips. Spice was some dumb inside joke, the two of you had from whenever you had to go get your wisdom teeth taken out. Spencer was the one to drop you off and pick you up. You could not get the name Spence out, you just kept calling him Spice.

“Another reason to add to the list of why I think they are soulmates. They can literally tell it is him walking up just from his footsteps. What the actual fuck?” Angela said to Amanda rolling her eyes.

“Hey short stack. I got you a coffee and a chocolate croissant from that one place you-“ He stopped talking for a minute while staring at you.

“What are you staring at me for?” You asked looking at him weirdly, mid stuffing your face with more chips.

“Isn’t that my hoodie?” Spencer asked while pointing towards the hoodie you have on. You had gotten cold and passed by his desk earlier. You noticed he had a hoodie thrown on his chair and figured, hey, he wouldn’t miss it?

You just smiled at him before grabbing the coffee and croissant. “You’ll have to pry it off my dead cold body before you can get it back. It’s comfortable and it smells like you.” You said before thinking about what you were saying and felt blush flooding your cheeks. “Wait, I mean it smells good.” You said really quickly while covering your mouth and looking at him and everyone else with a panicked look.

“I’m not complaining that you have it on. I was just wondering where it went earlier and literally told Shayne I bet that you had stole it. You look cute in it anyways. You can just bring it to me later whenever you come over.” He said with a faint smile on his face. “You still are on for tonight, right? For us to finish the next episode of Fallout?” He asked tilting his head while looking down at you, practically sliding down in your chair.

“Yup. I will be there.” You said real quickly, praying that the heat in your face will go away. He just nodded his head before smiling and walking away.

Angela, Amanda, and Courtney, who joined the table during the interaction, all stared at you while you tried playing it off as confused.

You just stared back at them, “What? Is there something on my face?” You asked while wiping at your face.

“Uh, nothing but the color red.” Courtney answered quickly before laughing and shaking her head. “When are you two going to admit the fact that you are head over heels for each other? It is so obvious.”

You could feel your face getting even redder while the three laughed over how much you’re practically melting due to the teasing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. So, tell me more about the character you were wanting to test out during TNTL?” You asked.

A few hours passed by and it was time for you to leave and head over to Spencer’s place. You were walking out of the office whenever you bumped into Shayne.

“I heard you and Spencer are gonna attempt to finish up the rest of Fallout. How are you liking it so far?” Shayne asked walking aside you.

“It’s been pretty good. I never realized how much I enjoyed watching a show like this with someone else. It’s so fun to just watch something like that together and witness their reactions while the stuff is happening.” You explained while getting excited over the thought of hanging out with the man and eating snacks.

“I think you just like the idea of hanging out with Spencerrrrrrrrr.” Shayne said with a huge smile covering his face. “He’s really excited to hang out with you too. It is literally all I have heard about today.”

You started to complain whenever he first teased you until you heard him comment about Spencer being excited to see you as well.

The two of you had hit the parking lot and were about to separate. “What do you-“ Shayne cut you off before you could even finish. “Y/N, please stop acting like you can’t see it.” Shayne laughed before smiling at you. “Sorry, that sounded a bit harsh but everyone can see it and I’m pretty sure you can too. That guy is so hopelessly in love with you. You can’t tell me he isn’t.” You didn’t know what to say, you just stared at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Shayne said while giving a polite wave and walked off towards his car, where Courtney was waiting on him.

Some time passed by and you were finally walking up the steps to his house. Something about tonight felt different. For some reason tonight, you were nervous. It was just Spencer. He is your best friend, so you had no reason to be nervous. Shayne’s words were sticking in your head though. Any other time, it wouldn’t get to your head but man it was really fucking with you tonight.

You had a spare key to his house, so you just unlocked the door and walked in. “Hoooooneeey, I’m hooooooome.” You yelled trying, trying to not giggle.

“Hey Y/N.” You just hear Spencer respond and see him pop his head around the corner. “I’m just changing into comfier clothes. You can go onto the living room.”

All you could think was weird. He usually carries on with your comments whenever you enter his house.

You just thought, maybe he was tired. So, you tried thinking nothing of it and headed into his living room. You got situated on his couch and started pulling up the next episode of Fallout.

“I put your hoodie on the counter.” You nodded towards the kitchen area while forcing a smile at him. He just nodded his head okay and sat down beside you.

Spencer is usually the touchy type of friend. He is always touching you in some way, either it grabbing your legs and throwing them over his, arm against yours, something like that. Tonight was different though. He had a distance between the two of you.

“You ready to start?” He asked before nodding towards the TV and you just nodded your head yes.

It was killing you. There was something going on and you couldn’t tell what. It was like there was a blanket of thick tension laying over the two of you. You would look at him out of the corner of your eye and catch him glancing over at you. He would catch you looking over at him then looking back at the TV. It was starting to drive you insane, so you had to speak up.

You grabbed the remote and paused the show. “What is going on?” You asked while turning towards him.

“What are you talking about? We’re at the part where-“ You realized he was about to explain the part of the episode, so you cut him off. “No, what is going on with you? You seem upset tonight.”

He looked at you then stared at the TV for a few minutes. You sat in silence as well, thinking maybe he needed it till the silence got deafening.

“Spencer? I don’t understand? Any other night we hang out, we’re always cracking jokes with each other and talking about our days and tonight-“

It was like it happened within a flash.

Spencer turned to face you while you were talking and you thought he was turning to listen to whatever you were about to say. You couldn’t be further than wrong.

He grabs both sides of your face and cuts you off. “Can I kiss you?”

It was like all of the words immediately got stuck in your throat and you just stared at him in shock. He started laughing over the way your face starts getting red in his hands. “What?” was all you managed to squeak out.

He inched a little closer to you, “Trevor was calling me an idiot for not realizing how much you like me. At first, I thought he was ignorant, of course. I thought there is no way they would have the same feelings. I, then, remembered how you acted earlier today over the hoodie and the comment about liking how I smell. It was like something just clicked. You also blush anytime we have an interaction. I could be wrong and if I am, I’m so sorry for butchering this friendship, Y/N, but can I please just kiss you already?”

You couldn’t even get words out. All you could do was shake your head yes and immediately, it was like all of the words left your head. He didn’t do the stereotypical ‘starved’ kiss that happens with the friends to lovers trope. He just softly pressed his lips against yours while pulling you closer to him by your face.

This lasted for a minute before he slowly pulled back. Your hands immediately fell to his wrists that were under your chin and you both just stared at each other.

“Your face is probably the reddest I have ever seen it. I’m going to assume everyone was right?”

You just smacked him on the chest and then wrapped your hand around his neck and pulled him close to you, “Yes, you dork.” You kissed him again but didn’t last long before he pulled back again.

“Wait, mentioning earlier… I wanted to ask, so you like the way I smell?” He says with a stupid grin on his face and wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh for fucks sake, just kiss me again already Spencer.”

[dmitriene]

THOUGHTS ABOUT BIKER SIMON AND HIS ATTRACTION TO YOU.

cw: fluff, comfort, smut, established relationship, brief mention of simons past, coul be slightly ooc simon, unprotected sex, p in v, public sex (on motorcycle), creampie, kisses, mentions of posessive behavior, simon having a hard time to confess his love to you, that's all. pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

simon's behavior comes down to how a black cat behaves next to a person he has taken a closer look at, he is as affectionate as a cat can be, whom miss fortune has been desperately avoiding all his life, but at the same time still going towards affection, in this case, to you, the one who gives it.

it is very easy to notice that he accepts care for him slowly, meekly, but in response he cannot squeeze out a word, he responds with actions, and to almost every “i love you, si„ there is not an expected confession, but a gesture that shows his affection wider than a few fleeting words.

if you needed to get somewhere quickly or leave somewhere, simon was right there, the motorcycle parked near the place where you were waiting, while both of his gloved hands held the second helmet, bought especially for you as soon as you started dating — with the aim of not only protecting you, but also carefully introducing you to part of his life, riding and fiddling with bikes.

you carefully extracted information from him about his life and hobbies, every time you drove together along the wide streets at high speed, your arms gently wrapped around his waist and clung to his leather jacket, he answered your every question willingly, with a gentle chesty growl, sometimes laughing hoarsely under his breath and teasing your desire to get to know him better

— “curious thing you are, darling„

and you always playfully pouted, resting your helmeted forehead against his back and lightly pinching him where your hands were placed on his waist, squeezing tightly so as not to slip away, and at the same time touchingly playfully attacking him through the fabric of his clothes with small pinches, to which he just laughed, listening to your mutterings

— “just wanna know you better, si.. you don't tell me anything„

and you’re right, he knows this, but his service in the task force and the nightmares he experienced forbade him to talk too much about himself or his feelings, the person hidden under the balaclava of the skull was considered forever dead and hiding in the shadows, and the absence of a photograph on his dossier in the army will be remembered there forever, but little by little there is less and less of that ghost of a man left, because you are definitely bringing back that side of him that he managed to bury.

simon gave flowers to someone for the first time in his life when your relationship just started, he didn’t even buy them for his own grave from which he fled, but he knew that he had to buy them for you, and the colorful fragrant petals became the beginning of your relationship, as bright as a lipstick mark on his bare cheek that day, and he would happily never wash it off, but you both know that you will put more and more of them, marking his whole face.

his affection is reflected in reverent touches, sometimes obsessive, every time you go out somewhere together, the heavy hand on the bottom of your back feels like a pleasant weight, with the care of which he later outlines your waist, holding you close to him not to control, but out of concern.

despite the fact that he is slightly unfamiliar with being so close to women, to signs of attention, you still notice that he is not afraid to take your hand in public, hug you, allow you to slightly lift his mask to kiss his lips or cheek, but it is even more tactile in the warmth of the walls of your home.

hugs from the back, arms exploring your body completely openly, small kisses on the back of your neck and face, he practically carries you around the house in his arms — all just for the urgent purpose of having you close, so that he can cuddle up to you and feel you close, while are you gently teasing him with the words — “aren't you clingy, si?„ but simon only grumbles and buries his nose in your chest while you carefully sorting the light strands of his hair, stroking.

but at a certain moment he breaks down, unexpressed feelings gather in an uncomfortable lump that worries simon, you are so affectionate for him, so beloved, but he cannot even answer a word of mutuality to you, he feels that he is not enough, feels helpless, and therefore solves everything with intimacy, squeezing your body in his arms carefully, gloves are hastily thrown off at the feet so that bare, rough, warm palms touch your soft skin, squeezing your hips and rising to your waist as you spread your legs for him, so lovely, leaning on his motorcycle.

your legs wrap around his waist, trembling slightly with each powerful thrust as your bodies press against his bike, balancing in a dangerous, uncomfortable position, elbows rubbing against the leather seat and the smooth surface of the bike, but it’s nothing compared to the heat in your body and the heaviness in bottom of your stomach.

simon's kisses are hot and demanding, his tongue sliding wetly into your mouth, muffling your moans and whimpers, the taste of his lips mixing with the overwhelming sensations rushing through your body as he greedily captures your mouth, his lips and tongue exploring every inch, making you to suffocate and at the same time desperately demand more.

he breaks the kiss, his completely darkened caramel eyes meet yours, silently ordering you to remain silent, before he nevertheless exhales into your wet and swollen lips, holding back his moans at the very edge

— “gonna be quiet for me, love, can't let anyone stop and go check from where all this pretty sounds go, yeah?„

and the need for discretion can't help but intensify the tension of the moment, igniting the thrill of the forbidden even more, causing you to hastily nod your head and moan into his open mouth as he again pushes his tongue to intertwine it with yours.

with each quick and desperate thrust, his cock plunges deeper into your sloppy cunt, allowing the wetness and heat to envelop his meaty cock all the way to his pelvic, as the sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mixing with the quiet whimpers escaping your lips despite your best efforts to remain silent and obey simon.

he can feel your orgasm approaching, telltale signs evident in your moan and the way your body trembles against his as simon's tongue explores your mouth with newfound eagerness, sucking on your tongue and eliciting muffled moans from your lips that he swallows.

with every deep thrust, his cock hits your spongy spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, causing the tight muscles of your cunt to clench around his girth, wet, squelching sounds filling the night air as simon's cock slips out slightly, but then pushes back into your tight, slick warmth, pushing you closer to the edge, making you practically scream, babbling

— “si, simon, hmnhrgh!! c-close, i'm close„

and then your hands slide with a slight creak from the surface of his motorcycle, and you instinctively reach out and grab his neck, your fingers curling, clinging to the back of simon's head, somewhere brushing the fabric of his leather jacket and the blond strands of his hair as you give in to the all consuming pleasure, falling completely silent.

every movement of his hips elicits a moan from your lips, your body eagerly responding to his primal dominance, all his feelings poured out into his erratic and rough thrusts as he strokes your waist carefully before pulling you close and straightening up, allowing you to be literally impaled on his girthy cock, muffling the loud sobs in his shoulder as he leans one hand into the seat of his motorcycle, white knuckled, and the other squeezes your thigh, impaling you again and again.

simon's hips snap with more force, driving himself deeper into your slobbering and throbbing cunt, he enjoys the way you clench around him in this new position, almost milking him, making his cock throb with every thrust into your slickness and squirm against your soft walls.

the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix sends a wave of pleasure through your body, coiling the tension in your belly tighter and tighter, and then it snaps, your walls clenching around him, milking him out as you reach your peak, practically biting down on his shoulder from the intensity of the feelings rolling in like a wave of heat.

your slick fluids and cum coat his cock, further lubricating the already slippery rhythm between you, the pulsing, gripping sensation driving him over the edge, his sighs and moans mixing with your incoherent mutterings, and you sing almost in unison about your feelings for each other

— “si, si, fuck!! aahn, l-love you, si, i love you„

— “i know, sweet girl, i know, mngh! f-fuck, love ya too, i love ya too„

his cock throbs inside your walls as he releases his hot cum, filling you up with his potent seed, painting you inside with his milky release and letting it drip down from your clenching cunt, coating his messy, wet from both your liquids cock and down his balls, somewhere there on the ground are still his gloves, on which white drops of your vulgar encounter now falling, the shared release creates a raw, intimate connection between you, the words he has kept for so long fall from his lips incessantly, and he whispers them in your ear, covering the side of your face with hurried, warm kisses.

he doesn’t care about the gloves, he doesn’t care about the roar of cars passing in the distance, which can turn here at any moment, the only thing that worries him is your warm body in his hands and the confessions that he can’t stop whispering to you, he kept them inside himself for so long, and finally gave them a path to the surface, and you will remember this for a long, long time, but for now, let simon take care of you and bring you two back home.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

One Step, Not Much but It Said Enough

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Farm/Prison

Warnings: None

Summary: Someone had to make a move. In the end, it was neither of you.

A/N: First November request. It can be found here.

*gif is not mine

You pushed your glasses up on your nose for the umpteenth time in less than half an hour, cursing yourself for never checking with your optometrist about contact lenses before the world went to shit. Not like you would have known to buy a lifetime supply because the dead were going to rise up and eat the living. Oh well. 

You didn’t dislike your spectacles. You actually enjoyed having them. You used to pick out the snazziest frames you could find that meshed well with your personality. Still, having glasses in the apocalypse wasn’t easy, by a long shot. 

Especially now, when you were trying to set up the perimeter line and it was a million degrees outside, the sweat accumulating on your skin making your frames slide down. It was actually rather infuriating. 

You were tying off a line when a shadow loomed over the string in your hands. “Here.” Before you could look up, a sunhat was placed on your head. You reached up to adjust it before leaning back to meet Daryl’s eyes. “S’one’a Carol’s.” He motioned toward the hat as he crouched on the other side of your line. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled, hoping he’d credit the sun for the rosy coloring of your cheeks. You suddenly felt unsure of your work and hesitated to continue while he watched. 

“G’on.” He encouraged, chewing on a blade of grass while those blue eyes flitted between you and the string of cans. You took a deep breath and carried on, soon becoming lost in your work as you moved from sector to sector. The hat did help, but eventually, you found the frames teetering on the end of your nose once again. 

“Damn glasses!” You didn’t even bother to adjust them, simply sitting back on your heels with a pout. Daryl had followed you, having already done his hunting for the day. You weren’t really sure why he was hanging around. His presence never bothered you but did make you increasingly nervous. The man was attractive and, though he’d fight hard to never admit it, he had a huge heart. 

“What ‘bout ‘em?” He looked up from cleaning his bolts, tilting his head when he noticed your adorable pout. He laughed in the form of an exhale through his nose and leaned forward, using his middle finger to push your glasses back to their rightful place. “They suit ya.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, blinking at him with wide eyes. It wasn’t until his brows drew inward and he began to smirk that you realized you had been staring at him for far longer than necessary. There was a noise akin to a squeak when you quickly went back to work and tied off the last of the perimeter. “Done!”

“‘Bout time.” The archer drawled, already standing next to you. “Ya hungry?” He was holding out a hand to help you to your feet but you just couldn’t seem to make your body function. “S’a hand. How it works is ya put yours in mine an’ I pull ya up.” You suddenly deadpanned at his his version of a grin. “C’mon, now. Carl gets there first an’ there’ll be none left for us.”

You took his hand and let him pull you to your feet. “Thanks.” He hummed in reply, falling in step beside you. You walked quietly back to the fire and your friends, about to branch away from him when you felt his hand on your arm. 

“Hey, um—” You looked up just in time to see him look back from gazing at something behind you but he kept speaking before you could turn to investigate. “Y’wanna go with me tomorrow? Huntin’, I mean.”

You knew how your face lit up, there was absolutely zero hiding it. You had always wanted to go with him. Honestly, you wanted to go anywhere with him. You felt like a middle schooler with a crush. Embarrassing. Regardless, the fact the he had invited you after spending all afternoon watching you string up cans between trees made your heart beat just a little faster. 

“Hell yeah, I’d love to! I mean, as long as I won’t be in your way.”

“Ya won’t be. M’gonna teach ya.”

Your jaw gaped. “Really? You mean it?”

Poor Daryl just looked confused. “Wouldn’a said it if I didn’t.” 

You just managed to stop yourself from diving in for a hug. “I’m looking forward to it.” You smiled, tilting your head when you noticed the slight flush on his cheeks. He scratched at the back of his neck and nodded. 

“Good. We’ll be leavin’ ‘fore first light so get some sleep.”

You nodded and watched him walk away, apparently forgetting that he didn’t eat. You chuckled to yourself, pushing your glasses up yet again but not at all bothered by it this time. When you turned, you barely caught the knowing smile that Carol wore before it faded and she went back to eating. You removed the hat Daryl had brought you, looking at it with narrowed eyes, then to where Daryl had disappeared, then to Carol, then back to the hat. Suddenly, it all made perfect sense. 

Well played, Carol. Well played. 

[blu3n]

Hello!! I just found ur account and I’m in love with everything you have posted. How do you see a Jason who, for the first time, has to comfort someone else, his s/o, over a nightmare? He’s had them plenty of times himself but when it comes to someone else, someone he loves more than anything, I think he would be even more nervous and freaked then his partner😭

@applejuicebegood

August 16th Jason's Birthday .

author : @blu3n

Thank you for trusting me to write, I feel very honored that you believe in my potential.

warnings: triggers, death, a little gore!

typical violence in fact. 🪼

nightmares of the night

Everything seemed normal that day. You were laughing and having fun with your namorado, enjoying each other’s company until late hours while watching a random movie.

At about 11 PM, you started to feel sleepy. Jason noticed and asked you to sleep with him in bed. Unlike you, he didn’t fall asleep immediately; after all, his mind was trained for patrols or perhaps because of his constant nightmares.

"Good night, squirrel," Jason said after pulling you into his arms and hugging you tightly, protecting you.You would never sleep on the doorstep; he wouldn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night to check on you. For your safety, he would make sure you slept against the wall.

Your eyes slowly closed as you felt the warmth of your boyfriend. Despite how muscular he was, you felt very comfortable sleeping next to him.Suddenly, your eyes opened after a brief nap.

Looking out the window, you realized it was still night, but what was strangest was that Jason was no longer by your side. Frowning, you decided to get out of bed to see where your boyfriend had gone.

"Jason?" You called out after a short yawn escaped your lips, scratching your belly in a sign of sleepiness. Looking around, you couldn’t find him anywhere.

Where on earth was your love?Shrugging your shoulders, you turned to go back to bed... when you heard the sound of *click* *click* *click*, followed by a louder *click* *click*.

It sounded like something heavy was being hit."Jason?" You hummed; you weren’t worried since it seemed like Jason was just hitting something.

"Lov—" That’s when the *clicks* stopped. Just as you were about to call him again, you felt something wet on your feet.

"Y/N?"

Something whispered in the back of your mind, but you didn’t know what it was.

Your feet seemed to move on their own, pulling you forward as if urging you to see what lay ahead.As you followed into the darkness... your eyes widened when you saw Jason’s exploded head on the floor.

"OH GOSH!" You screamed in panic."Jason?!" You called out louder and louder until you felt something move behind you.

Whoever it was touched your shoulder so forcefully that it caused pain. As petrified as you were, fear washed over you as the figure turned its face towards Jason’s body—it was him, but how? He never—Turning your gaze back, you were forced by the strange man to watch another being remove a crab foot lodged in Jason’s head and strike him again even while he was dead.

"Y/N?" The voice screamed now—loud—louder!

Before you could rationalize who the voice in the back of your mind belonged to or think of anything else, the figure stabbed you in the stomach, making you scream in pain.Your eyes flew open and you immediately sat up in bed, hyperventilating. "Baby... baby, it's me," Jason said with wide eyes filled with worry for you.

"You— I see..." His lips trembled; his eyes were wet as he remembered the horrific scene. You started crying in panic.

"Shh, come here." Jason knew what this felt like; he understood how terrible nightmares could be and how much comfort you'd brought him in similar moments.

He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead to calm you down.Jason would spend the rest of the night talking to you to help chase away the nightmare from your mind, whispering in your ear how beautiful you were and how much he loved you.

He was embarrassed to help you like that, he didn't know how to be kind or romantic, but he was trying, he was trying in his own way to be affectionate even though he didn't really know how to do it.

He would bring you tea, or warm milk for you to drink after that nightmare or if you couldn't sleep. He would take care of you in his own way.

──────────

🪼 Thanks thanks

[harrysmmm]

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴɴᴏʏɪɴɢ - ᴅ.ᴍ

Draco Malfoy x Y/N (f!reader)

Setting: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Summary: where Harry and Draco have a crush on you at the same time and they both ask you to the yule ball.

A/N: should I make a part two? I feel like a little bit of jealous Malfoy after knowing that Harry has a crush on Y/N could make a nice follow-up.

W/C: 1.6K

masterlist here

Annoying. That’s the word you would use to describe that moment. One of the qualities you always acknowledged possessing was empathy. You softened with people that were sensitive; you listened to people that were suffering; you loved people that were lonely. It was in your nature to care for people, to try to understand their motives. But at that specific moment in time, you wanted to slap the shit out of a certain one.

Brat, bugger, git, prat, smart-ass, toff, wanker, yob, the list went on. That’s how you would describe Draco Malfoy. He had it against you and your friends. No - correction: he had it against everyone that was not a damn pureblood slyther-fucking-in. You would turn a corner and there he was casting a spell that would make you slipper like a seven-year-old in a slide. You would enter a classroom and find your table gravitating in the air, with all your notes scattered all over the classroom. You would eat in the Great Hall and a dead tarantula was right in your pumpkin soup. Since first year, he had been mocking you and your closest friends, Harry, Ron and Hermione. And even if the most well-known rivalry was the one he had with Harry, yours was more personal.

That cloudy day of October he decided to throw bird notes at you in Transfiguration class that distracted you from paying attention. Some of the messages followed as:

“Hey Y/L/N, I bumped into the kitchen elves this morning, they were wondering why the dishes were not done. I told them you were probably busy eating all the leftovers.” “Hey Gryffindork, saw Longbottom is still free for the yule ball, maybe you can both live your pathetic little Gryffindor tale together. P.S. You could also ask Hagrid. Bet he’s free for you.”

Private. That’s the way you would describe Harry Potter in one word. You two were close, although not as close as he was with Ron, or as close as you were with Hermione. The fact that he was always bearing the prophecy of being the chosen one was something that would set you apart – mostly because you weren’t living it and he didn’t like to further explain. It was in third year that you surprised yourself with your body’s reaction to his presence. How you started to care about the way your laugh went out during a joke; you started to care about how your hair would fall when you were sitting at the library. You developed a crush on the boy. You never made a move; he never seemed to notice, nor reciprocate it, so you eventually desisted and focused your attention on other matters.

Those were the only two boys you would mostly communicate with, for better or worse. You didn’t particularly consider yourself an introvert, but you surely counted your acquaintances on a low number, especially when it came to boys. You also bared the weight of Hermione’s influence, who was surely not into boys’ talk, or boys in general. When you were with her, which happened to be most of the time, you followed her flow and ended up not particularly wondering about dating, or romantic feelings for the matter.

However, due to the debut of the Triwizard Tournament, there was a ball that was going to take place on the 25th of December. A ball that you needed a date for. Date that, after a week of having been announced, you still didn’t have. You hadn’t been worrying until Hermione had told you that she already had a date, with no other than Viktor Krum, the hottie of the year. And if even Hermione had already managed to find a partner, that meant that you were way behind.

“You have a date?!” asked Ron, very surprised.

“Yes Ronald, why that tone?” Hermione replied.

“Bloody hell, who are you going with?” he continued, still shocked.

“I’m not telling you, but I have one,” she pretentiously replied.

“’m sure you’re bluffing,” he insisted, grinning.

“I am not! Ask Y/N!”

“She’s not,” you simply replied.

“Just because you still don’t have a date, doesn’t mean I don’t get to have one,” she said. You noticed Ron’s reaction really got to her.

“I don’t have a date because I don’t want one just now.”

“Now you are the one who’s bluffing,” commented Harry.

“You gotta help me out here, mate,” Ron whispered to Harry.

“You’re pathetic Ronald Weasley,” added Hermione, furiously closing her notebook. She stood up from her seat, handing her homework to Professor Snape. “See you later, Y/N.” You waved goodbye at her.

“Bloody hell, this woman is so delusional. I bet she made that man up,” Ron continued after Hermione had left the classroom.

 “You’re too hard on her, Ron. Besides, she does really have a date,” you said, defending her.

“I already pity the man then,” he replied, focusing back on his homework.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t answer, also focusing on the task that was on the desk.

“For Merlin’ sake, I can’t focus. I’mma go, I’ll finish it in the dorm.” Ron stood up and exited the classroom.

“You’re probably gonna have to pass it to him,” you said to Harry.

“You bet on that,” he replied, grinning.

You focused back on your homework.

“Y/N,” uttered Harry.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I was wondering… if you want… well, I was just thinking… that if by any chance you… uh… still didn’t have a date… for the ball… you might… perhaps… wanna come… with me?”

You had a surprised grin on your face,

“Well, I mean, I thought you wanted to go with someone special… taking into consideration that you’re one of the champions,” you managed to say.

“Yes… that’s why I’m asking you,” he replied.

The entire scene unnerved you. You had been wanting to be asked out by Harry since third year, and now that he was starting to conceive your dynamic as more than friendship your feelings for the boy had already worn out.

Bloody Potter, always wrong timing.

“Can I give you a proper answer tonight?” you asked, knowing that you had to process things through before saying yes.

“Sure, yeah, no problem,” he replied.

You both smiled at each other and went back to the Potions’ homework.

It was almost time for supper but you were headed to the Great Lake to read for a few moments. Technically, you were forbidden from doing so. You meant technically, because being friends with Hagrid gave you some advantages, like a free pass to visit him and wander around. You also absolutely adored that time of the year, when the leaves were of warm tones and the chill breeze made you wear white turtle neck jumpers or jumpers that had the Gryffindor patch sewn in them.

You were comfortably reading under the shade of a tree when you started hearing boyish sounds. One of the voices you recognized belonged to a particular bleached boy.

“Woo-hoo, look who came to visit her giant boyfriend.” Draco approached you, followed by his sidekicks Crabbe and Goyle.

You didn’t even wait two seconds to get up and start packing your things.

“Leaving so soon? Are we bothering you?” He cockily started approaching you.

“Fuck off, Malfoy,” you replied, closing your bag.

“What do we have here, huh? Let me see,” he asked, referring to the book you were holding.

You held it tightly but he managed to pull it from you.

“The summer I met you, ha,” he snickered. “Romantic heart, wouldn’t have bet so from you Y/L/N.”

“Can I get it back?” you asked, pulling your arm forward.

He smiled at you. “Nah.” He threw the book into the lake.

His friends started woo-hing and laughing.

“You disgusting little rat,” you pulled out your wand and directed it towards him.

He was not laughing anymore, his sidekicks directing their wands toward you too.

“You cast something, we make sure you can’t walk again,” Goyle threatened you.

“It’s alright guys,” Draco said. “Just go.”

The boys seemed confused. “Who are you talking to?”

“You, idiots. Go!” Draco snapped.

The boys didn’t move.

“You heard him. Go!” you insisted.

They pulled back, confused, and eventually left.

Your wand was still on Draco’s neck.

“Easy now, lower you bloody wand,” he calmly said.

“You’re disgusting, Draco. I mean it.” Your blood was boiling. “You treat everyone like shit. I never did anything for you to hate me. I never asked for any of this, nor did anyone.”

“Go to the ball with me,” he said.

Your heart stopped.

What in the actual fuck?

“What?” you replied.

“I want you to go to the ball with me, if you want to,” he repeated. Your wand was still on his throat.

“Why would you want that?” That was the only thing you managed to say.

He placed his right hand on your wand and slowly put it down, without losing eye contact with you.

“Isn’t it obvious, after all this time?” he said.

“I’m lost, Draco. I have no idea what is going on,” you replied, ideas of him feeling the opposite of hate for you coming to your mind.

“You’re that blind, aren’t you?” he continued, placing one hand on your wrist.

You freezed at his contact.

“Why am I blind?” you were only able to ask stupid questions at that point.

He held your face with his left hand.

“So blind…” He got closer to your face, his eyes slowly closing.

You waited for the impact. And there you had it.

His lips slowly brushed yours, still not fully colliding.

“I’m crazy for you, Y/N,” he said with both of your faces glued to each other. “You can’t even fucking imagine.”

“Since when?” you replied.

“Since always.”

Magically annoying. Those are the words you would use to describe that moment.

part two

[quietlyimplode]

ignite your bones

After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.

Whumptober 2024: Day 16 - ‘no, I can’t feel anything’

Warnings: panic, self harm, medical procedure

Word Count: 2k (gif not mine)

Summary: they won’t let her see Clint. Desperate times.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

(A/N- halfwayyyy! <3)

.

Natasha opens her hand, the wounds large on her knuckles as she picks at them absentmindedly.

She hasn’t wiped the blood off the glass, just like they haven’t washed his blood off the floor.

She thinks they’ll get around to it, but it’s clearly not a priority.

Sweat still clings to her.

She closes her eyes and they’re beating him. She can’t get the images out of her head.

She’ll kill them, she’s sure of it.

Once they let her out, she’s going to kill them. Even if Thompson then kills her.

She doesn’t care anymore.

She wipes the blood off on her t-shirt, the black SHIELD issued clothing becoming darker with the stain of red.

Natasha bites the inside of her cheek, centering herself.

Deciding not to dwell on the fact that she may have traded one organisation for an equally corrupt organisation, she stares doggedly at the hallway entrance, wishing for someone to come.

She needs to know he’s alive.

He was when they took his broken body.

He didn’t look dead, just on his way there.

She bites down harder.

Taking a breath, she waits.

.

Maria locks down Natasha’s cells more thoroughly. She adds only herself, Clint, Coulson, Fury, two recruits she knows and trained personally, and Sharon.

She worries for the spy.

Clint’s attack was clearly targeted.

To have it done in front of Natasha was a show.

Her phone rings, Coulson’s ID flashing.

“Any news?” She asks in greeting.

“He’ll be okay. Broken ribs, broken nose, broken arm and bruising. Nothing internal they can see, so bed rest for at least two weeks.”

Maria opens his SHIELD file.

“Not in medical-” she starts.

“No, but there’s only a few truly safe places for him.”

“Maybe he can take her,” she jokes, but even as the words come out, she knows it’s a good plan. “Coulson, maybe they can go, we can finish up here, and they can go.”

He stays silent for a moment.

“Let’s get him stable first, and then make some plans.”

Maria nods.

“Someone needs to check on her.”

“Someone needs to stay with him.”

Maria sighs heavily.

“Fine. But if she does anything, you’ve got her for the next week.”

“I don’t think I’m getting the better part of the deal,” Coulson replies, “he’s in medical.”

Maria suppresses a laugh.

“The two that did it? Were they on the list?”

Coulson takes a moment.

“Yes, but we only got one. The other is at large.”

“I think I know, but why Clint? Was it because of her?”

“I think… a warning. For both of them. For us? I don’t know. The quicker we get this done the better. Has the news started to filter in the gossip chains?”

Maria glances at her other phone.

“That there’s been some disappearances?”

Coulson doesn’t reply.

“Yes,” Maria continues, “people have noticed. But SHIELD’s a big operation, no one is too suspicious, yet.”

“That’s good,” he replies. “I have to go, the doctors are coming.”

“Yeah okay, ask them when he’ll be ready to move.”

“Will do. Thanks Maria.”

And with that the call ends.

Maria sighs heavily, hoping that Clint doesn’t have any lasting trauma from the attack. She scoffs to herself. It’s a stupid notion.

She thinks of Natasha, trauma central, and opens the cameras.

The woman stands staring at the door.

The blood on the windows is stark red against the whiteness of the room.

Maria frowns.

Stares.

Waits for her to move but she doesn’t.

She knows she needs to go and see her, probably tell her that he’s going to be okay, but her feet don’t move, stuck in limbo as she watches the woman.

The blood on the floor is Clint’s.

Grief for her friend hits her, and she sucks in a breath.

She needs to move.

One foot in front of the other, she tells herself.

.

Clint groans.

He hurts. He feels the familiar drag of painkillers and reaches up to touch his face, finding a drip in his left hand, the sensation of pain familiar.

“We got one of them,” he hears Coulson say. “You’re okay, just beaten up.”

Clint holds a thumb up, hoping it conveys everything.

His arm is heavy.

He remembers.

His body.

Hurts.

He feels so tired.

“Natasha,” he says, his throat sore and dry. “Check?”

Coulson takes his hand and places it back down on the bed, the movement comforting and reassuring.

“Sleep,” he prompts, as Clint feels the pull into darkness.

.

Maria walks down the hall grudgingly.

She had been planning to go.

She tells herself that anyway.

But when Coulson had called and said it was a request from Clint, she knew she had to go now, before she left for the night.

The last corner finds Natasha staring at her, still in the same position she had watched her in hours ago.

She walks forward to the window and greets her.

Natasha adjusts her position.

Maria sees the welts on her hands, the blood red scabs from punching the glass.

“That must hurt,” she states, looking at her hands.

“No.”

Natasha’s voice is clearer than Maria remembers.

Perhaps with purpose.

“Is he alive?”

“Yes,” Maria responds, not wanting to elaborate.

“Can I see him?”

She thinks for a moment. Looks at Natasha’s hands, the way she tried to help.

“No,” she decides. “But when he is better, we can take you.”

Natasha’s eyes flash with anger, it’s gone in an instant, but it puts Maria on edge.

“Take me to see him?” she asks again.

Maria frowns, wanting to leave. She’s tired, she wants to go home, not deal with the Russian assassin and her demands.

“No,” she repeats.

Natasha takes a step closer to the bloody wall.

Leaning back, she smacks her head hard against the window.

Once.

Twice, before Maria reacts.

“What are you!? Stop!”

Natasha hits it a third time, cracking her skin and opening a fissure on her forehead that starts to bleed profusely.

She leans back again, showing no signs of stopping.

Maria swipes the door to open, and Natasha misses her mark of hitting her head for a fourth time.

In hindsight, Maria recognises that this was the only way that she could see Clint, the only power that she has in a very powerless situation.

“Stop!” Maria’s voice echoes in the room.

The command holds power as Maria holds Natasha’s arms.

“Stop, I’ll take you to him.”

She feels cornered.

Blood drips down Natasha’s face, the bruise already forming, and the cut wide.

“Stop,” she says again, just so it’s clear.

Fear, in the lengths that Natasha would go to see that Clint is okay, curls in her gut.

She’s not sure it’s the right decision to send them away together, but maybe, it will give her another purpose.

She doesn’t trust her with national secrets, but maybe she does trust her with her friend.

And maybe that’s more important than National Security.

“Handcuffs,” she sighs, producing a tissue and handing it over.

Natasha points to the bed.

“Get them.”

Maria doesn’t want to step inside Natasha’s cell, like entering someone’s room, or home without permission.

Natasha does as she’s told, stepping backwards and watching that Maria doesn’t move towards the button that closes the door. The handcuffs are placed on and Maria gestures for her to come forward.

Bloody tissue in hand, Natasha blots blood out of her eye-line.

“You’re insane,” Maria mumbles looking at her.

“I need to make sure he’s okay. I can’t… I owe him.”

The brief sentence makes Maria pause mid-step.

“You owe him?”

She’s sure Clint would never put a quid pro quo on a life, not one that he’s put this much energy into saving, and proving she’s an asset and not a liability.

Natasha stops alongside her.

“I owe him,” she repeats. “He can’t die until I know what the debt is.”

Maria starts forward again.

“You did something for us,” she starts, her voice purposefully low. “There’s a mole in SHIELD,” she admits.

Natasha’s harsh laugh makes her glance back.

“Double agents are everywhere. You think Russians are the only ones that house American spies in their midst? Any fool would know that they house agents that work both sides. Only bigger fools let them get promoted to director.”

Maria stops again.

Natasha clenches the blood soaked tissues.

“You knew?”

“I suspected.”

Natasha wipes at her face again.

“Your face tells me I’m right.”

Maria snarls.

“I don’t like you,” she tells her.

Natasha blinks languidly at her.

“I know.”

The last key swipe leads them out, and Maria starts the walk to medical.

Natasha is lucky that it’s late. Only the janitorial staff and a few agents milling around. No one gives them a second glance.

Looking back, Maria finds Natasha’s head bowed, eyes cast to the floor.

Blood dripping and making a trail.

“Are you doing that on purpose?” she asks.

“Because if you are, the floors get wiped down frequently. So there’s no chance of you following it out.”

Natasha touches the tissue to her nose.

Maria ignores the action.

The first elevator is quick, but the second that leads to medical is slow.

Natasha looks at the signs, she sees the hyper vigilance in her eyes as she spies the arrows.

The signs of fear are subtle.

The slight beads of sweat along her brow.

Small inhalations of breath that are more measured, like she’s practicing meditation.

The way her muscles seem to tense on every step, like she wants to run away but it’s sheer force of will that keeps her moving forward.

“Don’t kill anyone,” she mutters.

Natasha nods.

She’d been joking but apparently it was a consideration.

Maria decides against the medical team.

She didn’t like Natasha but she knew a risk when she saw it.

“Turn.”

She pushes Natasha into a medical bay.

The bed inside seems to make Natasha balk.

“Sit.”

The order seems to help.

The panic flits across her face momentarily before it’s dampened down into an impassive mask; Maria doesn’t miss it. She looks curiously at the woman in front of her, the blood doesn’t seem to phase her, but the room does.

“I’ll get the doctor.”

She watches the fear reaction play out in real time.

“No,” Natasha says, her voice almost inaudible.

Maria rolls her eyes.

“You need stitches, you don’t do things half assed, and that will continue to bleed.”

Natasha wipes at her head, the clink of the handcuffs shift Maria’s focus.

“You.”

The request is whispered but forceful.

“No doctors. Please?”

Maria doesn’t know why Natasha has a fear of doctors, but she does feel sorry for her. She knows the vulnerability costs her. Knows by the way Natasha won’t make eye contact or the way she squeezes her hands to stop them shaking. It breaks open the wounds on her knuckles and Maria is reminded of how hard she must have hit the glass when Clint was being beaten.

“Fine,” Maria says, “but it might not be neat.”

Natasha shrugs, fingers rubbing the raw skin on her hands.

Maria hands Natasha a towel.

She finds the antiseptic wash, the pain killers, gloves and the numbing cream.

“Do you want these?” she asks, holding up the pain killers.

Natasha shakes her head, staring at the blue gloves, now on Maria’s hands.

As gentle as she can, she rubs the numbing cream on Natasha’s head.

The only reaction is a flinch.

Maria cleans Natasha’s hands first. Slowly, she opens them up, washing the blood, putting the antiseptic on and watching for a reaction.

Natasha seems out of it.

Maria isn’t sure if it’s the blood loss, or the place, or a combination, She wraps each with a bandage. First the left, and then the right.

She wipes the blood again.

“Do you feel this?” Maria asks, gently touching her forehead.

It takes a minute for Natasha to answer.

“No. I don’t feel anything.”

Maria thinks there’s more to her statement than she understands. Touching her head, she realises the wound seems more superficial than deep.

She opts for glue over stitches.

Gently, she washes the wound.

“He’s okay, you know.”

Cleaning it carefully, wiping the blood away, she continues.

“Broken ribs, broken nose, broken arm, some bruising,” she lists. “Nothing he hasn’t had before.”

Natasha’s eyes focus behind Maria, but subtly her breathing changes.

.

[lucysarah-c]

When the inspiration to write Holy Ground has finally come back only for a little bit. And you remembered why you loved these dorks so much.

“And then… Right there, between the ruins of the castle,” the pauses between each word were accentuated by the flickering candle inside the lantern, casting an eerie glow on our faces.

My teeth clenched as my hands balled into fists, my shoulders tensed with anticipation. The fallen tree we sat upon felt less uncomfortable as I had entirely forgotten about it in the dead silence, my attention unwavering.

“I swear I caught a glimpse of something... whitish, iridescent.”

Involuntarily, my body scooted closer to my right, my knees raised, swallowing hard as I braced myself, though not entirely sure for what.

“I focused my eyes on the tall trees, trying to elucidate the shape of what I had seen, then SUDDENLY, ON MY BACK—”

In that exact moment, someone pressed each side of my back under my ribs, and I screamed at the top of my lungs. My cry in the middle of the night was abruptly interrupted by Hange and Nanaba laughing hysterically as they high-fived each other. “She always falls for it!” they exclaimed between bouts of laughter, clutching their bellies. The rest of the scouts, who had been listening to Hange’s horror story, joined in with quieter chuckles.

“HANGE!” Erwin’s deep voice resounded from the other side of the camp, and the undertone of his call was anything but friendly. “Could you stop scaring the cadets so they don’t scream in the middle of the night as if they’ve seen a titan while we are outside the walls?!”

Hange looked at Erwin from their seated position and feigned an innocent smile that Erwin, surrounded by squad leaders, did not reciprocate. “Sure thing, honey~,” they replied cheekily, but the blond man merely rolled his eyes.

“He’s such a party pooper since he’s single,” Hange muttered to the rest of us, covering their mouth to avoid being overheard.

“Only a crybaby like Y/N would take a horror story seriously,” Oluo said with that snobbish tone he so often adopted, taking a sip of his drink. He was three years younger than me, yet he felt entitled to act cocky.

"Then why'd you grip my arm when four-eyes was talkin'?" Levi, who sat between us, remarked while looking at Oluo. "You were shakin' like a leaf; for a second, I thought ya were gonna piss yourself."

It was priceless to see the cadet’s face turn crimson with embarrassment as the rest of the group continued laughing. “Levi doesn’t miss a thing,” Eld pointed out. My boyfriend had been silent the entire time but jumped in to state the facts.

Before I noticed, I was gripping Levi’s left arm as if my life depended on it, and he hadn’t even flinched. I let go, trying to regain my composure because, despite Hange using the only light source to creepily showcase their face, I didn’t want anyone to jump to conclusions.

I tried to play it cool. “Y/N, I don’t even know why you keep getting scared, sweetie, especially knowing that shorty is by your side.”

It was a word game, I knew. Levi was sitting next to me, but I knew by the brunette’s raised eyebrows that they implied something else. This did nothing to help the flush on my cheeks.

“Cut it out, four eyes,” Levi intervened.

But Hange dismissed it. “I’m just saying, shorty killed more titans today alone than most of us have in our entire careers as scouts.”

It was true; it was Levi’s third expedition, and his numbers were becoming hard to ignore. He was simply that good. If my memory serves me correctly, I pretended to focus on my hands, trying to suppress a prideful smile. But when I glanced at his side profile, my eyes betrayed the expression of someone utterly smitten with love and admiration. Gunther snorted, trying to stifle a laugh, while Eld playfully smacked him on the back of his head, although he too wore a playful smile.

Who could blame me? Only a day ago, at that very hour, the two of us had been intertwined in the attic for the very first time. I felt like a little girl with a crush, and it was hard to disguise.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Might be the last thing I post for a little bit tbh…🦦

‘Darling I was thinking and-‘

‘Oh that can’t mean anything good.’ You teased playfully as Astarion gave you an unamused look before continuing.

‘Before us was so rudely interrupted.’ He side eyes your seated form. ‘I was just thinking,’ Astarion trails off as he runs a hand across your shoulders slowly as though savouring the contact before seating himself snugly on your lap; His legs on either side of you as his arms rested upon your shoulders, whilst his mischievous hands found purchase holding the back of your back, his fingertips and nails lightly caressing the skin there.

However your focus was more or less solely on the fact of how his chest was practically pressed against yours and the space -or for better words lack there of- between your and his face. You could see every detail that went into Astarion’s face, from his cheeks, his plush lips, to the glimpses of his fangs in the light of the fireplace and the look of a want, a need within his vermillion eyes that looked borderline primal.

Astarion was the epitome of a beauty so dangerous, so sought after you could easily loose your life to it, and the funny fact was; you didn’t mind if he was the last thing you ever got to see before being enveloped by darkness.

At the very least you would get to lay your eyes on something ethereal in beauty before your soul left your mortal body. You’d happily be ensnared into his trap of false promises of the future and silky words constantly, especially so if it meant getting to peer at his beautiful face.

‘If there’s something you wish for Astarion,’ you began after a brief moment of silence, ‘then you need only ask, use your words instead of your body.’

Astarion blinks at this as though no one has ever told him that, which only further proved in breaking your heart. He had told you his story in pieces before confessing the whole story one night beneath the stars, and ever since it had haunted you in knowing that you were quite possibly the only person who had made him feel as though he had a choice, like he had a say in the things that happen to him rather then having the freedom of choice taken from him completely.

‘You don’t have to seduce me into doing something for you because you already know that I’d do just about anything for you.’ You continued, raising your hands to gingerly hold his porcelain face and run your thumbs over his cheek bones, watching as he initially flinched at your touch before melting into it.

Astarion laughs humourlessly. ‘Of course you would, how could I forget.’ He utters so softly you almost couldn’t hear him despite being so close. ‘You’ve gave me back the gift of flight to my wings that I never thought I would ever get back after being under Cazador’s thumb…for so long.’ He sounded to be in excruciating pain when he said the words for so long. You didn’t speak and decided to allow Astarion the space to get anything he still had left on his chest, but he didn’t say much afterwards in regards to Cazador, for enough about him had already been said in the past; and instead chose to rest his forehead against your own and sighing.

‘What was it that you were thinking about my love?’ You said, bringing the conversation back to the reason he was sat on your lap in the first place.

‘I only wished to ask if we could spend the day together.’ Astarion replied. ‘For it seemed as of late that we’ve been busy with other matters outside of what truly counts. Us.’ He adds as he pressed his forehead further against yours as though he needed to feel you on a much deeper level than physical.

You smiled softly as you too then closed your eyes and allowed yourself to be in the moment with your beloved, even if all feeling in your legs was slowly going, not that you were complaining or anything, it was just that you too have noticed the lack of quality time you’ve spent with Astarion, that the only time you had for one another was in the dead of night; when your fighting to stay away as long as you could with him in hopes of making up for lost time.

‘I’m not against the idea of having an us day, got any suggestions?’

Astarion only smirks.

[dayas]

Klonnie angst for the request 🫡🫡🫡

Omg of course Anon! I like your style 🙂‍↕️

I took three lines from this list and sprinkled them in here 🥰

—

Klaus Mikaelson was no stranger to anger. It lived within him, bubbling just beneath the surface. He was known for it, in fact, for the rage that had daggered his siblings and forced them into stony submission, cold coffins all they knew for centuries. For the righteous fury that had felled kingdoms, swallowed nations, a tsunami of dangerous emotion that swept over and drowned all in its path. He alone wielded it, his very own sword and shield for his own selfish purposes. He supposed saving the young witch’s life was a purpose worthy enough, even if she was staring at him, horrified and infuriated, after the last body fell. His own aggravation shifted, a frozen shard lodging itself in his chest when he realized she was still bleeding. Heavily.

“No, don’t do that, love,” he murmured once he saw her eyes begin to close, her legs buckling. He closed the gap between them in seconds, swinging her up into his arms, and speeding out of the underground chamber they were in. Kidnapping the mother of his child was one thing, but brutalizing her so thoroughly was an entirely different matter. Though his mind wanted to explore the soon-to-be reality of discovering just who had masterminded this plan and torturing them in exquisite detail, none of that would help the witch in his arms. He kicked open the door to his home, speeding her up the stairs and laying her down on his bed. His fangs lengthened, nicking his wrist. Blood dribbled from the wound and he lifted her head with one hand, placing his wrist against her lips. She responded, drinking slightly. The wound in her side continued to bleed. It was then that Klaus’s stomach began to sink.

“Kol!” Klaus roared, and his brother appeared at a moment’s notice. “Call Davina. Now.”

Klaus held onto Bonnie’s body, trying to keep her head up as the gust of wind that signaled Kol’s disappearance washed over them.

“You,” she rasped, and Klaus immediately told her, “Don’t try to speak.”

Bonnie persisted, “You just watched them die.” In his incredulity, he nearly laughed. He’d killed them all, even the innocents, and he’d reveled in it. He knew because of who she was she would be upset, he only figured she would voice her concerns after she’d healed.

If, a terrible murmur in the back of his mind whispered, if she heals.

He scanned her body quickly once more, tamping down on the rage that rose within him at seeing her shoulder was bent at an awkward angle. Fully dislocated — he’d have to fix it himself.

“Look at me, little witch,” he murmured to her, “This is going to hurt. Keep your eyes on me. Think of nothing else.”

He didn’t warn her. Bonnie screamed out, tears leaking from her eyes as her shoulder popped back into place.

“I know,” Klaus whispered to her instead of I’m sorry, “I know it hurts.”

She sobbed quietly in his arms, and he was both grateful that she seemed more alive in this moment, as well as anguished at seeing her in so much pain. Anguish was a feeling he had long since believed he’d forgotten. Of course she would return it to him, as she had returned to him the beating of his long dead heart. Every second that ticked by dragged Klaus deeper into his own personal hell. He bowed his head, pressing his forehead gently against hers.

For the first time in his immortal existence, Klaus Mikaelson prayed. His lips moved in silence, one hand kept against her side to stabilize the wound, the other cradling her neck.

“Klaus,” Bonnie rasped again.

“Do not speak,” he ordered her, “You need to save your strength.”

“If anything happens — ”

“Nothing will happen to you because I will not allow it to.”

He refused. Somehow, in the middle of every trial and tribulation they’d experienced together, his affection for the witch had grown, blossomed into something that now terrified him as he held her rapidly cooling body.

“Keep your eyes open, little witch,” he told her softly, alarmed. They closed, she stilled, and Klaus shook her gently.

“Bonnie.” She did not move. He tried once more.

“Bonnie.”

In a flash, his ear was at her chest, listening for her heartbeat. He was met with sickening, empty silence.

“No,” he said to himself, his voice rising as he shouted out, “No! You cannot do this to me. You cannot go where I cannot follow!” She belonged here, in the land of the living, where she could truly thrive. He promised himself he would give her everything her heart desired, so long as she returned to him. He cared nothing for her rage at being raised from the dead (for she would be angry, that was a given), only for her life. So be it. If he needed to upend Nature itself to keep her, he would leave this world in ashes.

At last, his door burst open. He turned to find Davina Claire at Kol’s side, a grim panic set into her eyes. Clutching Bonnie’s lifeless body, he gave only one command.

“Save her.”

[vodika-vibes]

Could I please get female reader x the clone wars Gregor smut scenario that starts off with him finally making it back after getting his memory back and he's anxious to see his girl again after so long, but she's anxious about seeing him again because she's gained some stress weight and is worried about whether he'll still want her/be attracted to her, but he just goes even more feral for her the moment he sees her? Please and Thank either way ♡

As Beautiful As The Day I Lost You

Summary: Gregor has been gone, missing, for months. Missing, not dead. And when he comes back you can’t help but wonder if he’ll still want you.

Pairing: Captain Gregor x F!Reader

Word Count: 1130

Warnings: Smut (cockwarming)

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So...my smut developed feelings, so there's only a little smut here and a lot of feelings. I'm sorry.

You feel like you’ve been crying for days.

It’s almost as bad as when you found out that Gregor was MIA. Almost.

For the most part these are happy tears. Happy that he’s alive. Happy that he’s alright. Happy that he’s coming home. 

But there’s also anxiety tied into those tears.

What if he sees you and doesn’t want you anymore? You don’t look the same as you did when he went missing. You’ve gained some weight, due solely to stress, and you’ve changed a few things about yourself…the way you dress, the way you style your hair-

You nervously push your hand through your hair.

It would help if you had been allowed to talk to Gregor. But you haven’t. No one’s allowed you to speak to him. You were told that he’s okay, that he’s coming back, and that he had severe memory loss, which is why he went missing in the first place.

You were also reassured, by a frantic looking medic who looked terrified when you started crying about the memory loss thing, that Gregor does in fact remember you and that he’s very eager to see you and talk to you.

That had been several weeks ago. 

And now you’re just waiting. And you think that might be the worst part. 

Dread and excitement war with each other as you hear the door panel beep and the door slide open. Slowly you walk over to the door, your hands wrapped firmly around the hem of your shirt.

And there he is. 

Gregor is staring at you. He steps into the apartment and blindly smashes his fist against the door panel. His bag hits the floor at the same time as the door clicks shut. “Mesh’la,” 

And then the tears start, “Hi.”

Gregor swallows hard, and he takes several steps closer to you, but he pauses just short of touching you, “Sorry I’m late. I took a wrong turn, you see-”

You release a sobbing laugh and fling your arms around his neck, “It’s okay. You’re here now.”

His arms fold around you, hesitantly at first, and then tighter as he presses his face into your hair, “You cut your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“It looks good. You look amazing.” He exhales slowly, “As beautiful as the last time I saw you.”

You sniffle, “Really? I put on some weight-”

His arms tighten, “I didn’t notice. But if you did, it just means there’s more for me to love.” He pulls away slightly one of his hands coming up to press against your cheek, he lightly wipes a tear off of your cheek, a small smile crossing his face, “Beautiful.”

Gregor leans in and presses his lips against yours in a soft, loving, kiss. And you respond instantly, your arms sliding around his neck as you kiss him back. All of your anxiety fading away to nothing as he clutches your body to him as though no time has passed at all.

And, because you know Gregor, you aren’t surprised in the slightest when he starts walking you backwards. And you’re even less surprised when his hands dip under the hem of the shirt that you’ve been worrying for hours.

In fact, the only thing that surprises you, is that Gregor has the patience to wait until you’re securely in the bedroom before he’s tugging your clothes off and tossing them to the side. 

He doesn’t remove his hands from you for longer than it takes for him to remove your clothing, though. He doesn’t even try to remove his own, which you think is kind of unfair. 

And then he attaches his lips to that spot on your neck that never fails to make you melt for him, and you stop thinking about it.

Your fingers curl into the material of his shirt as he lowers you to the bed, his body pressed firmly against yours, his lips leaving dark marks on whatever bit of skin he can reach, and then, finally, he pulls back and settles himself between your thighs. 

His hands ghost down your sides, skirting over the sensitive skin of your breasts, teasing touches over the plush skin of your hips and thighs, and then they skim back up. 

“Beautiful,” Gregor whispers, “As beautiful as the day I lost you. And you’re all mine.” There’s something like awe in his voice. 

“I’ve always been yours.” You whisper, a soft noise of pleasure falling from you as his clever fingers trail down your body again and dip between your thighs. “Gregor-” His name falls from your lips in a sigh.

His fingers pause, and his gaze locks on your lips, “Kriff,” He breathes out, “I wanted to take my time with you. But now that I have you here, under me, I want nothing more than to be buried inside you.”

You reach up and lightly tug on his shirt, “We have all the time in the world, Gregor.” You whisper reassuringly, as you tug on his shirt again. 

Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Gregor peels his shirt off and tosses it to the side, and he carefully tugs his bottoms off and tosses them with the rest of the clothes to be dealt with later.

It seems to take a moment for him to decide what he wants to do, before his expression clears and he tosses some of the pillows off the bed and settles against the headboard, “Come here, mesh’la.”

You pout at him playfully, but crawl over to him and settle yourself over his cock, which is already hard and leaking. “All this for me?”

“I missed you,” Gregor says with a nervous giggle, before he grimaces, “Sorry.”

You press your hand against his cheek, “I missed you too.” Slowly, with his aid, you slide down his hard cock. It takes you a moment to adjust to him again.

“Slowly, baby. You don’t have to rush.” Gregor whispers, his hands tight on your hips when he sees you wince in discomfort.

“M’okay. It’s just been a while.” You reassure him as you slowly slide down the rest of him and settle right against him. You place your hands on his shoulders, and lean against him, taking a moment to just feel him. 

Stars, but you missed him, missed this, so much. 

You shift, to start moving on him, but Gregor tightly grips your hips, holding you still. “Let’s stay like this for a bit,” He murmurs, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, “Just for a little bit.”

You lightly trail your fingers through his hair, enjoying the closeness. Though you know you’ll only be able to remain still for so long.

For now, though, you just enjoy that he’s here and he’s back. He’s still your Gregor, even with the changes.

[shxyss1n1st3rr3ads]

red light-woosan

 

     

pairing- dancer! woosan x chubby POC ! reader summary: You go out to a club with your friends and find yourself in a 0-100 situation.

      Walking into any club can make you extremely nervous. But this one for some reason, made my stomach do weird things. As I walked in, trailing behind my friend Livia, I started to notice the red lights coming from down the hall, in the direction we were going. As we entered the main area, I quickly looked around liking to know what my surroundings always looked like. As I look around more and more, I start to notice some of the men are dressed alike. They were all dressed in ripped loose pants and no shirt. The red lights around made their bodies look Godly.

            No wonder Livia chose this one.

            “Aren’t they so hot?!” Livia yells next to you. I pull my eyes away from the beautiful men and looked at her nodding. I don’t say anything because this whole situation makes me so nervous, and I didn’t want to sound stupid. I continue to look trying to find a safe spot I can go so I don’t feel in the way of the entrance.

            Livia had mentioned that this club had a no foreigner rule, so everyone that walked past me took a long look. And I mean they didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were staring. But being in Korea as a thicker POC, it’s expected.

            We walk further inside, and I notice that all the men are dancing with pretty girls in pretty dresses.

            “They are the dancers here! They are supposed to just walk up to anyone and ask them to dance.” Livia yells over the music. That’s actually a good idea since a lot of the clubs have people just standing around. But I also couldn’t imagine dancing for hours on end.

            I couldn’t help but to notice how all the guys were dancing with smaller and pretty women. I’m not insecure, but things like that makes me a little sad because there’s no chance any of them are willing to dance with me. I’m bigger and not Korean. I don’t feed into my insecurities though. If they don’t want to dance with me then its their loss, not mine.         

            I head to the bar as my friend heads to the dance floor wanting to dance right away. She fits perfectly in with the crowds. A daunting thought in the back of my mind makes me think that I would take up most of the space so why even attempt to go down there. I’ll probably be the only one not dancing with someone. But that’s the thing, I don’t need anyone to have fun and I knew Livia had my back and would drop any guy to help me out, she’s done it before. There were also times where I had to push her back because I didn’t want her dropping everything when I’m a little down.

I ordered the strongest drink and continued to look around. There are regular lights here at the bar. The red lights are mainly on the dance floor, so it was much easier to see around me. As I look around, I notice so many pretty women, and I stare in awe. The men were also drop dead gorgeous.

            I’ve gotten used to being the bigger girl here. For the first 6 months of living here. It did hurt a bit when everyone seemed to go after Livia more. But she fit the beauty standard, especially since she is half Korean herself.  I’m black and white. A thick girl, standing at (height) and (weight). I wore it well, at least I thought I did until I got here.

            After about a year here, I was used to how they treated me. Concluded that I’m not here for love, I’m here to experience Korea itself, and to enjoy myself. I started to go to the gym more as well, makes me feel better overall.

 I sipped on my drink when I got it, enjoying the sight of Livia dancing with all types of people. I laugh when she pushes another dancer for one of the shirtless guys.

            On the far side of the room, the floor rises a bit and there was a metal fence along it, allowing people to lean over and watch the dancers. I couldn’t help but notice two shirtless guys leaning against each other and staring in my direction.

My heart starts to beat fast, there’s no way they are looking at me. I look around and see other girls standing next to me at the bar, either ordering a drink or trying to get their man to get them one. I sigh finishing my drink, I turn around and order another one. I start to wonder when I would get the balls to stand up and go dance with Livia.

            I peek over at the two guys again. They are now leaning over the railing. Its like they noticed me looking there way again because at the same time they both look up in my direction. My eyes widen and I quickly turn back around as if I got caught doing something that I wasn’t supposed to be doing.

Dammit, I think to myself. Now they know I was looking there way. Fuck it, I peek again. I could hardly tell them apart other than one being slightly taller than the other and the body was built slightly different. The red lights are not helping. They both look like they have black hair, brushed back with some strands in front of their faces. One runs his hand up into his hair, pushing some back.

            The taller one looks over to the person who walked up to him and talks to them. I noticed he had a half up and half down style. He then gets pulled away. I quickly look away when the bartender slams the drink down next to me and moves on to the next order. I grabbed it and held the straw against the ice so I could drink it all at once. I set the cup down and look back over seeing neither of the men. Damn, they were a nice sight to see.

            I looked back down to look for Livia, but I couldn’t see her due to there being so many people. But I did peep at her white dress amongst the crowd, allowing me to calm down a bit. I don’t want to be left here alone.

            I think that I want to just chill here at the bar until Livia is ready to go. Maybe another night I will feel more comfortable. I order another shot wanting to get a little more wasted.  

            See, I don’t mind being a bigger girl. In fact, I love my body. But other people’s eyes and thoughts on my body practically shove me back into the insecure locker I was trying to desperately get out of my whole life.

            Like I thought, the shot made me feel great. I spun around in my seat to maybe get a look for Livia again and maybe join her, but someone was blocking my view. It was a shirtless guy, and he kind of looked like the one you were looking at earlier across the room. His hands were tucked in his front pockets, he slowly tilts his head while keeping eye contact with you. I suddenly get really confused and look around and even behind me (Even though there was only a bartender behind me and helping someone else.) He slowly walks up and stands in front of me. His thighs hit my knees as I sat in the bar stool. I couldn't help but to think that if I opened my legs a little, he could fit right between.

            Oh! Maybe he wanted a drink. I slowly try and move around him, but his eyes never leave me.

            “Sorry, Ill get out of your way…” I mumbled, hoping that he would get the hint and move back a little so I could leave without bumping into him accidentally. But his hand reaches out and stops me. I pause and look down at his huge pale hand caressing my arm.

            “You’re not in my way.” He leans in and whispers in my ear. Maybe he said it normally, the club is loud, and I can’t really hear anything over the sound of my rapidly beating heart. Little did you know, you were making his heartbeat extremely fast too. He doesn’t drink, and this is his job, meaning he rarely gets nervous. He’s confident in himself.

            “Why aren’t you dancing?” He asks me with a little smile. I just shrug my shoulders, not really knowing how to answer him. He grabs both of your hands in his and he rubs his thumbs across the top. I can’t help but stare at our hands together. He slowly brings one of my hands up and my eyes follow. He slowly leaves a kiss on top of my fingers smiling at the fact that our eyes are now connected. His lips leave a warm touch, making my heartbeat faster.

            “A pretty girl like you must be waiting for someone to ask her, mhm?” He says smoothly. I really had a hard time saying anything. His eyes were so sharp, his skin so smooth. His gaze hurts, so I quickly look away.

            He suddenly brings both of my hands up and lays them flat against his chest. One hand feels the pounding of his heart and the other one feels the warmth of his chest. His heart starts beating faster as his hands push my hands down, to trail against the hard muscles on his torso. I couldn’t help myself but bend my fingers at the tips and allow my nails to scratch him along the way. Making him flinch and lean into me. I squeeze my thighs at his reaction.

            “Fuck,” He whimpers in my ear. Now my heart is beating out of my chest. I feel his breathing calm down a bit. “Dance with me. Please dance with me. I want-no. I need to feel you against me while we dance.” He pleads in my ear. Two thoughts come up. In America there is these people called fat fuckers or chubby chasers. Who simply wants you because you’re a BBW. Now I may be thick but I’m not extremely fat. But to Koreans, shit I could be. But the second thought is saying fuck it. This god of a man is standing in front of you, leaning into you. Take the fucking dance. So, I nod my head and take his hand as he pulls me in for a dance.

            We make it to the dance floor and get swallowed into it, now it feels like I’m in the middle of it. I’m not too sure what to do now that I’m under the watch of this beautiful shirtless man. The song ‘Stay Ready’ by Jhene Aiko comes on, and it makes you smile. A good song I can just vibe too.

I’m not too sure how to impress people, I like to be myself and hope that does the job. The alcohol that I drank earlier is running through my system. I look over at the male in front of me and he smiles softly at me and backs up a bit giving me room to do my thing. He starts sways to the music.

            I bring my hands around and move my body to the beat of the song. Swaying to the rhythm, my hands follow the curves of my body. I close my eyes to feel the music through the floor. My butt is moving a little more, my neck moving my head in slow circles. I lean my head back and run my hand around my neck really feeling myself. They lead into my hair, my full body now enjoying the song. I open my eyes and look at the man. He stopped moving and his eyes seemed darker than before. The red light of the club is not helping any. He bites his lower lip and grabs my hand spinning me around. I instantly bend over and grind my ass against him. I can’t help but smile and I feel both of his hands suddenly grab ahold of me and he pushes into me harder. I lean up and his hands take the chance to feel me up even more. I pushed myself away from him and continued dancing in front of him, knowing that he was extremely turned on because I felt the same exact way.

Kendricks part just ended and that’s when I feel hands on my waist. They pull me into a hard body. My eyes pop back open to see the guy lean into my ear and whisper. “God, you’re so fucking hot.” I could feel his hard on as we danced against each other. Our eyes never leave each other’s. Noses bumping against each other’s, lips almost touching.  

As the transition of the song comes on and suddenly another set of hands grabs ahold of me and pulls me away from the body I was against. I spun around and then held onto. I look up at a man that was slightly taller and notice him from earlier. His hands trailing from my hips and going up.

            “Hi gorgeous.” He mumbles against my skin as he leaves open mouth kisses against my skin. That’s when I realized that maybe they were really looking at me before!

            “Hi…” I let out breathlessly. One of his hands lowers itself and lets my hips sway to the song. I soon feel the other guy come back and close me into a shirtless man sandwich.

            The next song is ‘Get You’ By Daniel Caesar and Kali Uchis. I thought we were done dancing, but they kept their hold on me. The taller one with the bun holds on to my lower waist and his head leans against mine, our ears almost touching. While the lower one tucks his arms around my waist, just below my breasts and leans his head against my back. Our body moves slowly and in sync to the song. The male behind me, his hands keep moving everywhere and squeezing. He thrusts into my ass every now and then.

            The taller one keeps leaving random kisses on my forehead and cheeks and neck. Everywhere he can reach but my lips. It makes me think that maybe they do this with chosen girls, and maybe lips are off limits. They certainly know how to make a girl feel special. The taller one continues to softly sing into my ear as we sway.

            The music becomes foggy as I get deeper in my thoughts.

            The shorter man, (He is still much taller than me. Two inches maybe?) He lets go and moves letting the cooler air hit my back. I’m already missing his body heat. I thought he was just going to leave but he walked around and stand next to the guy in front of me. He pries one of his hands off me and he join in wrapping both of his hands around me and the other guy. Now that I’m seeing both guys in front of me and side by side. Red light or not, I couldn’t deny how fucking gorgeous they are.

            “I’m sorry, I might get fired for this, but I can’t help myself.” The shorter one says and brings the arm that was wrapped around the other guy up and grabs the back of my neck and brings his face to mine. His lips crush mine. I feel him groan against me and they both squeeze me in closer. At this point he was in the middle now and the taller man was blocking anyone from really seeing.

            “San…” The taller one says in a warning voice. I went to break away, but he kept me in place. He leaves a couple more kisses on my lips.

            I’m honestly in shock. This is such an out of body experience. I lose any words that come to mind.

            “We have to go now but I hope to see you again.” The taller one says and leans in and leaves a slow and long kiss on my cheek and gives my ass another small squeeze. “San importunely cut our time here with you short.” He glares at the shorter one. You realized why he was kissing everywhere else so much.

            “I’m Wooyoung by the way.” He smiles and drags San away.