#this one's quite a bit on the nose but I needed it

[connorsui]

Sylus x wife! Reader || Imagine

"A sticker crown!"

The house was quiet, a warmth settling into every corner as you opened the front door and slipped off your shoes. The soft glow of evening light filtered through the windows, giving the entire place a serene feel. There was no immediate sound of movement downstairs, but something more faint came from upstairs—a soft giggle, the high-pitched sound unmistakable.

"Sylus? ...Are you up there?" you called out, the smile already pulling at your lips.

No answer—just more giggling.

Curious, you made your way up the stairs, your steps slow and deliberate as you approached the source of the sound. The door to your daughter’s room was slightly ajar, and as you pushed it open, the scene that greeted you filled you with pure amusement. Toys were scattered all around the room, dolls and baby pink teddy bears seated around a small tea table with plastic cups clinking on the surface. But the real sight was in the center of the chaos.

There was Sylus, your formidable, commanding husband, lying flat on the floor with his hands clasped on his chest, eyes closed, and a faint smile playing on his lips.

"No, no, Daddy! Stay put! You not pretty yet!" your daughter scolded in the sweetest little voice, her small hands busy rummaging through a pile of stickers.

"I'm as still as I can be, sweetie," Sylus murmured, barely moving a muscle. "I'm not going anywhere."

You covered your mouth to stifle the laugh that threatened to bubble up as you stepped further into the room, but the moment was short-lived as your daughter spotted you. Her eyes lit up in pure delight, and she gasped as if you’d appeared from nowhere.

"Mummy!, Mummy! Look! Look how pretty Daddy is now!" She scrambled up from her spot, her tiny hand reaching for yours as she dragged you closer to the spectacle. "Daddy won’t scare anymore! People will like Daddy now!"

You bit your lip to contain your laughter when you got a proper look at Sylus. His face, once an intimidating picture of authority and dominance, was now decorated with Hello Kitty stickers and glittering stars. The contrast was almost too much to handle.

“Well, don’t you look handsome as ever?” you teased, standing over him with an affectionate grin.

Sylus cracked an eye open and smirked. "And how can I resist? My own princess demands I become a statue for her enjoyment."

“You are fulfilling your role quite beautifully," you said, trying to peel one of the stickers off his cheek, only for your daughter to intervene, placing her tiny hand on yours with the fiercest pout she could manage.

“No, Mummy! Daddy needs to be pretty!”

You and Sylus exchanged a glance, amused as ever, while your daughter grabbed a fresh set of stickers, picking the sparkliest one of the bunch. With a proud smile, she pressed a glittery star right onto Sylus’ nose.

"Yaaay!"

Before you could respond, Sylus' smirk widened. "Princess, why don’t you add some of your beauty onto Mommy? Make her feel just as pretty as me."

Your daughter, to both your surprise, frowned and shook her head, her little hands resting on her hips. "No! Mommy is already pretty. Mommy doesn’t need stickers, she’s not mean! Mommy is nice so Mommy doesn’t need to be pretty!"

With that final declaration, she slapped another heart-shaped sticker onto Sylus' forehead, sealing his fate.

That was the last straw—you couldn't hold back anymore, laughter bursting from your lips. "Oh my God," you gasped, wiping at the corner of your eye.

Sylus, however, rolled his eyes dramatically. "Help me here…for once, I'll be the one begging."

“Oh, isn’t that a rarity coming from you?” You knelt beside him, gently peeling off the stickers from his face, one by one.

Meanwhile, your daughter looked on, fidgeting with her toys before tugging on your arm. "Mummy… is it bedtime now?"

You glanced outside, the fading light of the day casting soft shadows across the room. "Yes, sweetie. It’s bedtime. As much as you love playtime, it’s time to rest for now."

"The moon is out?" she asked, tilting her head.

You nodded, peeling the last of the glitter from Sylus' face and then guiding your daughter to her bed. Tucking her in with care, you kissed her forehead. "Yes, the moon is out. But when the sun comes back, you can play more."

She smiled sleepily, already closing her eyes. "Okay… Night, Mummy."

You and Sylus quietly left the room, gently closing the door behind you. As you walked back down the stairs together, you couldn’t help but giggle. “How long has she been doing that to you?” you asked, barely containing your amusement.

Sylus sighed dramatically. “Ever since you left. She said I look too angry and I have to be ‘kind’ more often. She believed her toys and her drawings would do me great favors.”

You chuckled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Well… she’s not wrong. You did look far better than all the years we’ve been together in that moment.”

“Oh really? Is that what I needed to love you?” Sylus arched a brow, his teasing tone back in full force.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, stifling another laugh.

Sylus shook his head, a laugh of his own escaping. “Please... save me next time.”

You grinned, leaning into him. "Sylus, don't be mean."

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 QUEEN OF DISASTER kang haerin x reader

↳ warnings yn is a nmixx member , haerin is insanely infatuated with yn, swearing, fluff, crazy dorm activities

haerin didn’t have many idol friends outside of her own group. she kept to herself most of the time, and honestly, she was fine with that. there was comfort in her peace she didn’t need it to be disrupted.

that was, until kyujin bounced into her life. the girl was a burst of energy, determined to befriend every 2006 liner in the industry, including haerin.

and, as much as haerin hated to admit it, kyujin was hard to resist. her infectious laughter, relentless enthusiasm, and her skill of making haerin feel comfortable chipped away at her guarded walls.

but that didn’t stop haerin from being a bit hesitant when the girl invited her to her dorms.

“I don’t know…” haerin murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor as kyujin groaned in protest. the idea of visiting another group’s dorm felt… odd. it wouldn’t just be kyujin it would be her and six other members, people haerin barely knew.

“come on!” kyujin whined, leaning dramatically against haerin’s arm. “my members are so welcoming. they’re really peaceful,” she added, the blatant lie making haerin raise an eyebrow.

“peaceful?” haerin shot her a knowing look, one that said, you can’t be serious.

“okay okay,” kyujin looked down reluctantly, “okay, fine. maybe not all of them,” she confessed, “but at least yoona unnie is. she’s super chill! you’ll feel comfortable with her, i promise.”

haerin nodded slightly, her mind flicking to sullyoon, who seemed just as quiet and reserved as she was probably the one member she might actually connect with. but something felt off. one name was conspicuously missing from kyujin’s reassurances..

yn.

everyone knew yn.

she was the industry’s darling, a sweetheart with doe eyes and a smile that could light up a room. her voice was soft, soothing even, the kind of voice that made fans melt and left the whole country captivated. she was gentle, exactly the type of person who would put haerin at ease.

she was peaceful with the softest voice to exist, just watching videos of her talking could put people at peace.

so why didn’t kyujin mention her?

haerin let out sigh, looking away from her friends puppy dog eyes, “fine…”

kyujin’s shriek of excitement nearly made her regret it. haerin scrunched her nose playfully, rolling her eyes as kyujin threw her arms around her in a tight hug, already chattering excitedly about the visit. but haerin’s thoughts were elsewhere.

she stayed quiet while kyujin rambled about how excited she was, her mind wandering to the girls beloved member.

she doesn’t know why, kyujin not bringing yn up occupied her mind so much.

I guess you can say the beloved member of nmixx intrigued her.

“get the hell off of me!”

haerin stood wide eyed next to kyujin, frozen in place in front of the now-closed door to her friend’s dorm

she watched in disbelief as yn shoved bae off the couch, sending the girl tumbling onto the floor.

“now now, yn that’s not even nice.” the older girl groaned from the ground, flashing the pretty girl a teasing look.

“fuck off.”

the funny thing was, this wasn’t even the most chaotic thing happening in kyujin’s “lovely” home.

haewon was belting out a very loud tune in the kitchen while yoona tried her best to help clean up the mess. lily and jiwoo were in the living room, locked in a fierce round of just dance, screaming at each other to “dance harder!”

and yet, despite the madness swirling around her, haerin’s eyes couldn’t leave the industry’s so called sweetheart, who seemed to have quite the temper on her.

“you know you love me,” bae teased, trying to get up from the ground, only to be pushed right back down by yn.

“no, i hate you,” yn snapped, glaring down at her, though her wide, doe like eyes made her look more like a pouting kitten than anything intimidating.

kyujin glanced nervously at haerin, who stared at the chaos before her. “it’s not always like this,” she lied, trying to save face.

haerin shot her a look that screamed, yeah, right.

“i know…” kyujin sighed. “i told them to be on their best behavior. sorry.”

but haerin barely acknowledged her friend’s apology, too transfixed by yn’s little tantrum. the girl had settled back on the couch now, a perfect smile on her face, while bae remained sprawled on the floor, knowing that any attempt to stand would likely result in another push

“so it’s all for show?” haerin whispered, her eyes still glued to yn..

“huh?” kyujin furrowed her brow.

haerin tilted her head toward yn, and kyujin burst into laughter. “no! yn unnie is a complete sweetheart. what you see is what you get, she’s just… well, a bit short-tempered.”

as if yn could sense they were talking about her, she glanced up, her wide eyes locking onto haerin and kyujin. suddenly, her expression softened, and she shot up from the couch.

“oh my, kyujin, why didn’t you say you were back!” yn exclaimed, crossing the room in quick strides. 

“that’s no way to welcome guests!” she turned her attention to haerin, who immediately felt her cheeks grow warm as yn got closer. “how are you? was the drive okay?” yn’s voice was gentle, her words pouring over haerin like a warm breeze. “it’s a bit loud in here, i know, but it gets better, i promise.”

“uh…” haerin tried to respond, but yn cut her off with a quick pat on the head.

“i’ll go tell haewon unnie you’re here. make yourself comfortable, haerin,” yn said, shooting her a playful wink before disappearing into the kitchen.

haerin’s face was burning now, completely caught off guard by yn’s sudden warmth.while kyujin looked at her, “told you, she’s a complete sweetheart, an angry one but sweet nevertheless.”

“uh huh…” haerin barely managed to nod, still completely dazed by yn’s charm.

she had never felt this way before, but one thing was clear she was definitely coming to the nmixx dorms a lot more often.

haerin wasn’t sure how it happened, but visiting the nmixx dorm had quickly become part of her routine.

at first, it was all about hanging out with kyujin and adjusting to the group’s chaos. but somewhere along the way, her visits shifted focus.

instead of looking forward to catching up with kyujin, she found herself eagerly waiting for the moments when yn would be there quietly watching her from across the room, her eyes following every movement, every smile.

soon enough, her casual drop ins had turned into regular visits. she no longer needed kyujin’s invite. the group had welcomed her, and though kyujin was oblivious, haerin was only showing up for one person.

yn.

there was something about yn her soft demeanor on the surface, contrasted with her fiery personality just beneath. one second she was all sunshine and sweet smiles, and the next, she’d be fiercely ranting about whatever bothered her that day.

haerin found it captivating, the duality of her, the rawness that not many got to see. and somehow, haerin had gotten used to those passionate rants, sitting on the edge of yn’s bed as the girl vented her frustrations about anything and everything.

today was no different.

“i mean, can you believe it?” yn practically shouted, pacing back and forth in her room. her hands were animated, cutting through the air as she spoke. “i’m out here trying my best, and they have the audacity to say that about me?”

haerin sat on yn’s bed, quietly watching her. there was a small smile playing at the corner of her lips, she found yn’s fiery passion endearing.

yn's temper was always sparked by the smallest of things, someone’s comment online, a misunderstanding, or the fact that she lost in a game to lily the night before. today, it seemed like it was something she had read online, and yn was spiraling into one of her long, impassioned rants.

“they don’t know a damn thing! who do they think they are? it’s just—ugh! so annoying.” yn threw her hands up in frustration, pacing closer to haerin, her voice laced with indignation.

“and the worst part?” yn paused, finally looking at haerin, her face flushed with emotion. “i shouldn’t even care! but i do, haerin, i do.”

yn let out a frustrated sigh, dropping onto the bed next to her. their shoulders brushed, and yn turned to face her, her eyes burning with a mix of anger and vulnerability. haerin couldn’t help but be drawn in by that intensity, her heart picking up speed as yn ranted on.

before she could stop herself, haerin reached out, her hand gently resting on yn’s arm. “it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “you care because you’re passionate about what you do.”

yn looked at her, the fire in her eyes slowly dimming, replaced with something softer something that made haerin’s breath catch. for a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.

then, before she could second-guess it, haerin closed the gap between them, pressing her lips softly against yn’s. it was tentative at first, a quiet exploration, but when yn didn’t pull away—when she kissed back just as eagerly, the kiss deepened. haerin’s hand slid up to cup yn’s cheek, her heart racing as yn responded with equal fervor, her fingers threading through haerin’s hair.

the moment was electric, full of everything haerin had been holding back for weeks. the fiery passion yn poured into her rants was now flowing through their kiss, both of them caught up in the intensity of the moment.

but just as quickly as it had started, the door to yn’s room swung open with a loud creak, and a voice rang out.

“unnie, have you seen—” kyujin’s words died in her throat as her eyes fell on the scene in front of her. her mouth dropped open in shock.

haerin and yn instantly pulled apart, wide-eyed and breathless, as kyujin stood frozen in the doorway, her face a mixture of confusion and surprise. the room was dead silent, save for the sound of kyujin’s sharp inhale.

“oh my god!” kyujin finally screamed, her voice echoing through the dorm. her hands flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes still as wide as saucers. “what is happening?!”

without waiting for a response, kyujin let out another yelp and slammed the door shut with a loud bang, leaving haerin and yn alone once again, their hearts pounding in their chests.

for a few moments, neither of them moved, the tension hanging thick in the air. then yn burst into laughter, her giggles light and infectious, her face still flushed from their kiss.

“well, that’s one way to get caught,” yn said between fits of laughter, her eyes sparkling as she turned to face haerin again. “she’s never gonna let you live this down.”

haerin, still slightly dazed, let out a small, embarrassed laugh, her cheeks burning. “yeah… i wasn’t expecting that.”

yn smiled at her, the warmth returning to her expression. “i wasn’t expecting this,” she said softly, her voice taking on a gentler tone. she leaned in, brushing a stray piece of hair away from haerin’s face. “but i’m glad it happened.”

haerin felt her heart flutter at yn’s words, her breath catching in her throat. she hadn’t realized just how badly she had wanted this how much she had wanted yn.

“so,” yn whispered, her lips ghosting over haerin’s once more, “are you gonna come over just to see me from now on?”

haerin grinned, her lips curving up into a smile as she leaned in closer. “ and kyujin, but mainly you.”

before the girls lips could touch once again kyujin’s muffled voice was heard from behind the door, “I’m coming in again! and I better not see any kissing!”

[morose-melodies]

i need dottore,tartaglia,pantalone and capitano(those were in my mind for a while and its killing me) with a reader who always tries to escape.using different tactics each time but always ends up failing.and one day,the reader hads enough and snaps "if you didnt take away and acted like a normal person from the start,i could have loved you"

İf you dont want to or dont feel like writing,thats ok👍

failing attempts | various! yandere! harbingers x reader

CAPITANO

this was escape attempt five.

you truly were optimistic, but capitano wouldn't let you leave him so easily.

your escape attempts seemed to be getting more and more desperate and, therefore, more dangerous to you.

you had attempted to jump out of a window the night before, just as he was arriving home from a mission. the sheer terror he felt as he watched you lean out of the second-floor window was insurmountable.

now, not only was the front door locked shut from the outside, but the windows were now barricaded too. you were a danger to yourself.

and all capitano ever wanted was for you to be safe and with him. was that too much to ask for? was that so terribly wrong of him?

the captain didn't want to take extreme measures to keep you home; he didn't want to lock you in a room, nor did he want to tie you down. he wasn't the sort. He just wanted you to stay without any excessive force.

but you were pushing him into a corner.

this morning, you had darted out of the backdoor, still in your pajamas and without shoes, into the cold.

you didn't make it far at all. you had barely made it over the garden fence, and you were stumbling now.

the captain... sighed as he followed after you. it wasn't an extreme chase; you hadn't even tried to fight back as usual when he caught you; you just stumbled on about something incomprehensible as he wrapped you up into his coat and lifted you into his arms.

"that was terribly immature of you," looking down at you, the captain felt sorry for you, "I would like it if you would stay home but if you plan on leaving, please do wear proper clothing next time. i can not bear the thought of you dying out in the cold."

"if you didn't take me away," at this point, perhaps death was better than being stuck with him, "and if you acted like a normal person," but, you wanted to go home - you wanted to be with your family, "I could've loved you."

capitano's mind blanked. he had given you a chance to come with him freely; he had been kind to you, so were you not lying?

it didn't matter now, did it? "(y/n), you do understand you've caused all this trouble, correct? should you have been a bit more understanding, you wouldn't be in this situation. i love you. Is that not obvious? i only want to see you thrive and to be happy."

he was at the point of no return; he could only go backward from here.

DOTTORE

to take time out of dottore's day, to make him leave the manor to come find you for what seemed like the millionth time - he was admittedly quite frustrated with you.

he found you hanging from the gate, your coat caught on the spike of it.

he grinned - this was a funny sight, but, at the same time, it wasn't funny at all. he was actually very disappointed in you.

dottore approached the gate, standing behind you, "tell me just how long have you been hanging here for?"

your nose was running, and you looked absolutely defeated. when you don't reply, dottore clicks his tongue, shaking his head, "Would your life not be simpler if you just accepted your situation? This is such a pitiful sight, (y/n)."

dottore unlocked the gate and walked outside of him, and he helped you down and brushed off the snow that piled on your coat.

"let's go, (y/n)," dottore grabbed your forearm and prepared to pull you back towards the manor, "I've had enough of your antics - perhaps a night or two in the basement would do you well."

"no-" you tugged back, attempting to free your arm from his grip, "stop it! you make me s-so sick! just let me go!"

"(y/n), please. you've done nothing be give me grief," dottore sighed, tugging you along with him, "I don't understand why you feel that being stubborn will get you anywhere."

"you... don't understand?" you grumbled, digging your feet into the snow, trying to pull your weight, trying to stop dottore from getting you back inside, "you're kidding me! i hate you! You're disgusting and unlovable!"

"(y/n), lower your voice - I'm exhausted and you're giving me a migraine," dottore sighed, stopping and getting a better hold on your arm before tugging you along once more.

"if you have yet to notice, I'm quite content with just having you near. i don't exactly need your love to make me feel any better than i do now. hm, that's the sort of effect you have on me."

you went quiet and dottore assumed you had worn yourself out. he brought you inside and sat you down in front of the fireplace, his hand rubbing circles on your shoulder.

"I could've loved you... maybe if you hadn't taken me away..." you trailed off, holding your hands in front of the fire. Why did he continue to act as if he cared for you? "maybe, um, if you were normal, I could've loved you."

dottore smiled at you, though you couldn't see it, "whether you love me or not is trivial - i have you, (y/n), and that's what I need. you, (y/n), you're all I need."

PANTALONE

pantalone was above getting dirty.

it was nothing personal. he'd do just about anything else for you! he just couldn't imagine himself running around late at night trying to find you.

what was the point when he had other fatuus to do such things for him? they have yet to fail him.

so, while you were out, trying to leave pantalone as multiple fatuus' chased after you, pantalone was running you a warm bath and set a pair of clean clothes out for you.

he knew you'd come back filthy. You always did.

he wondered what he could do to keep you home. He wasn't one for forceful methods; he would hate to hurt you. you were his pride and joy.

pantalone would sigh deeply, dipping his hand into the bathwater to make sure it was still warm.

you never wanted anything from pantalone... well, except for that one time, you asked for a can of soup, but then you used it to smash the bathroom window open and jumped out...

that didn't exactly count.

he heard the front door open and knew you were being dragged in now. the guards weren't gentlemen, quite the contrary, in truth.

you always looked so sad and defeated after the caught you.

"oh, (y/n)," pantalone held a hand to his chest as he stood from where he kneeled at the side of the tub, he stepped forward and wanted to embrace you but you were a mess, "you're a mess."

he frowned at you, as the guards released you and shut the bathroom door behind them as they left. "you must be cold, oh dear," his heart ached for you, such a pitiful sight you were.

you were so lucky that he loved you.

he attempted to remove your top, but you tensed, making it hard for him, "do-don't touch me."

"but you're filthy," pantalone reasoned, once again trying to remove your top but you wouldn't budge, "(y/n), I'm doing this because I love you so very much. please, don't make this hard."

"I don't-" you stepped back, shaking your head at him, "I don't want your help. g-get out, just leave."

pantalone's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at you, "what's the matter? i-i'm not mad at you, not at all. I understand that i must be lacking something-"

"get out! my gosh, wh-what's with you!? just leave!"

"(y/n)..."

"get out! get out! leave!"

"please, calm down. let me help you undress, alright? You're in a bad mood, i get it. That's no excuse to be rude to someone who loves you dearly," pantalone spoke to you as if he were your mother.

he reached forward and tugged off your shirt with extra force; it wasn't much force; it was just in case you were prepared to tense up again!

"there we go," pantalone cooed as he eased you into the warm bath. he washed your hair for you, making sure to scrub extra hard to get the muck out of your hair.

it was, in a way, soothing...

if only...

"if you hadn't... taken me away and, um," you sniffled, raising your hand to wipe at your nose, "if you were normal... i could've loved you."

instead of offending, that pleased pantalone. what he was hearing was 'you liked him for who he was' and there was nothing better than hearing that.

hm, if only he hadn't taken you away.

"that is the kindest thing you've ever said to me," pantalone smiled, "thank you, (y/n)."

CHILDE

it was a sort of game to childe at this point.

how many times could you attempt to escape this week? how many times would you curse him to hell? how many times would you glare at him today?

he had to find humor in it, or else, he'd lose his mind. after all, there was no easy way to cope with the love of his life hating his guts.

in truth, he had been a bit overbearing the past few days - there was a snowstorm outside and he couldn't allow you to be out in that sort of weather alone.

so, as he stared out the window, looking at the rapidly falling snow, all he could think about was if only something was different. perhaps if the two of you were childhood sweethearts, maybe if the two of you had met before he fell into the abyss, or maybe if the two of you were neighbors.

he, at one point, had gotten so desperate to keep you home that he bent to your will - anything you asked, he did. you never really asked much of him, though...

well, unless telling him to go away was a question.

he was so busy thinking of all the "what ifs" that he didn't notice you running past the window and into the snowy woods.

well, he did, but it just didn't click for him at the moment.

and when it did click? he was out the door, tugging his coat on, not even bothering to shut it behind himself.

"c'mon, (y/n), now is not the time for this!" he called out, watching as you ran around a tree and seemingly "disappeared."

he knew you too well. you expected him to run around the tree to look for you, but he wouldn't; he watched as you emerged from the other side of the tree and pulled you into his open arms.

you can't use the same trick twice on him.

he held you against his chest - he didn't mind that you were nudging at his chest, trying to get away from him. "c'mon, it's pretty cold out here. I'll make you tea when we get back inside."

"no! im not going back!" you nudged harder at his chest, trying to get out of his hold.

"I said we're going back in. we really need to talk ab-"

"there's nothing to talk about! you're not normal and i won't love you!"

he thought had heard it all from you, so, hearing this wasn't anything new, but, what was new was hearing you say:

"if you wanted me to love you, maybe you should've been normal," you paused, and childe's hold on you loosened, his arms going slack at his sides and he looked down at you, "if you didn't take me away... and maybe if you acted like a normal person from the start-"

once again, you paused and took a step back away from him. childe didn't want to hear what you were going to say, even as he imagined what you might say, his chest ached... he wouldn't be able to handle it, "(y/n), let's just go in, okay? i don't want to hear it from you."

"- i could've loved you."

oh, it hurt so badly.

childe tried so hard to be unbothered, so, why was he so hurt from hearing this? he loved you, and he's tried everything to make you understand just how much he loved you, and now you say that you'll never love him.

it hurt, of course, but he's come so far.

childe strongly believes that people can change, anyway. so, he'd keep trying his absolute hardest for you until you buckled and confessed that you loved him back.

but, in the meantime...

"you can still love me," he said, with a weak smile, "I've been good to you, (y/n) and I think I deserve some credit for being so patient, right?"

[dalliesque]

Mr. Nice Guy, Fresh Guy

𐙚 sypnosis let me introduce myself, nice guy, fresh guy of the night (alright) everybody tells you better watch out girl.

꒰ png flirty!HAN TAESAN x fem!reader , fluff , neighbours to lovers , coworkers to lovers , mutual pinning , flirty taesan , lower case intended . cw petnames. wc 890 words, proofread ꒱

yu notes : oh no i think i have the taesan brainrot 👻 shout out to @sanaxo-o for proofreading this, without her this would actually flop 😵‍💫 thank you sm hon <33

𐙚 Wednesday

“let me (re)introduce myself, nice guy, fresh guy of the neighbourhood.” taesan raises his eyebrows in a flirty manner, his hands sliding through his hair in a slick motion before leaning once more on the fence separating his and your front-yard. you hold in a chuckle, nodding. as you glance his way, soon looking away, your focus still solely on the plants in your yard, badly needing your care after being left for so long by the previous owner.

“so..” taesan continues, clicking his tongue watching you curiously. “you free this weekend? you know since i helped you and all” hearing this, your head snaps towards his direction not believing the words escaping his mouth. taesan simply shoots you a wink, and you can't help but to chuckle. your head returning to it's original position, fixed on the plants.

thinking about it, his words were true. he did help you with stuff (moving things around to your new house, since he's strong and all;) and what's the hurt in repaying the favour and let him take you out? wait.. is this a date? “i can make time for you.” you reply to his words, which did take a bit longer than it's supposed to be. a shit eating grin slowly appears in taesan's face. so shitty you can feel it from the back of your head actually, “i can feel your stupid grin from here” you roll your eyes playfully, looking back at him spraying a bit of water his way.

taesan laughs as he dodges the water you're spraying mercilessly towards him. “is this your way to repay my deeds?”—”no but it would be if our hang out isn't a date” “oh.” taesan stops dodging the water fully just standing there while staring right at your eyes. a little smirk on his face. oh how bad you want to wipe it away from his stupidly handsome face. taesan lets out a chuckle, about to jump over the fence. “i'll spray you with the jet if you get any closer!!”—”fine!!”

𐙚 Thursday

“can you rate how excited are you for the date from 9 to 10?” taesan appears behind you, whispering close to you. his warm breath tickles your ear, sending shivers down to your spine making you almost jolt out in surprise. “a hello would be nice??!”—”hello” you roll your eyes, sighing as you shake your head in disbelief. what the hell is he doing in the ladies locker room? “what are you doing here? it's the ladies lock—” you pause, oh there's no such thing as a ladies locker here. a smirk grows on taesan face, leaning in on the lockers.

“this is not the changing room babe” you scrunch your nose looking away, feeling heat from your neck slowly going up your cheeks from the embarrassment. oh how you wish to just dissappear under a big rock. “don't call me that.” you utter, going back to your locker to continue arranging your stuff. “oh sorry, i was just warming up. who knows i'll use it often in the future” your whole face is crimson red by now, forcing you to exit the shared locker room “hey wait you haven't rate the date yet!” “it's still in two days!!” “well should we do it now?”

𐙚 Friday

“one more day.” taesan teasingly whispers, his voice entering your ear gently and swiftly exiting the place as if nothing had happened. as if he didn't relentlessly tease you today, and as if his words wouldn't bother you the whole day and of course not forgetting the playful wink he'd send you before going out through the door. this is really bad for your heart. it's the second day of your shift here on the pizza store, but you're already pondering whether to quit or not. he really knows your weak spots. you thank the universe for making him work in the delivery rather than cashier or anything else involving being close to you 24/7. cause you would definitely would not survive.

𐙚 D-DAY(TE)

taesan rests his head on the palm of his hand looking at you intently as you twirl the pasta around your fork nervously. “look at my eyes” you give him a quick glance before holding in your laugh, looking back at your plate. “stop looking at me that way!”—“with these sexy eyes of mine?” you roll your eyes playfully still not looking his way. “oh come on just give in my shawty”—“shut up!!” taesan let out a small ‘ouch’ when you nudge his legs with your own under the table. he soon laughs holding his hand up in surrender. “atleast you're looking at my eyes now.”

you smile, okay, maybe his eyes are... what's the word? sexy? no, not that, but whatever the way to describe his shining, shimmering eyes, you wouldn't be able to say it out loud. it would obviously bruise your ego. “swooned by the nice guy's charm?” taesan raises his eyebrows, a mischievous smile overcoming his lips. yeah, that's it his eyes are charming, and yes, you probably did get swooned by the ‘nice guy's charm.’

striked cannot be tagged !!

@ :: @gyuvinreblog , @hyunhanie , @keii-starz , @starryriize , @eun-luv , @bambisnc , @intakstars , @enhacolor

@yochubi

[katareyoudrilling]

Audience of One (Dave York one-shot)

Pairing: Bodyguard Dave York x Female Reader

Summary: When online comments threaten your safety, you reluctantly agree to hire a bodyguard

Word count: ~3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: a bit of danger, masturbation, unprotected PIV (please use protection IRL), a hickey (sort of)

A/N: This is my entry for @burntheedges Roll-a-Trope challenge! I got famous person AU and twisted it to fit my very niche tastes lol.  It has been quite a while since I posted something, thanks for hanging in there with me.  I really hope you enjoy it! Big thanks to @burntheedges for the beta 😘

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

Dave York Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist – link in my bio or let me know!

“I really think you’re overreacting.”  You finish cleaning off your instrument and securing it in your case.

“I’m not and it’s not open to discussion.” 

You sigh.  “I’m a concert violinist, not a movie star.  No one is out to ‘get me’ or whatever.  This is ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” your manager forces you to meet her gaze.  “There have been emails, social media posts… I know you don’t want to believe it, but there are creeps out there focused on you.  I need you to be safe.”

She’s looking at you with so much care and concern that the fight leaves your body.  “Fine.  Send him in.”

“Thank you.”  She turns to open the door to the dressing room and gestures to someone in the hallway.  You gather the rest of your things into your bag and prepare to head to your hotel.

Your manager steps back into the room trailed by a tall, broad, dark-haired, incredibly attractive man in an overcoat.

“Meet Dave York, your bodyguard.”

. . . . . . . . . .

“I’m really sorry about this,” you apologize for the tenth time since getting into the back of the town car with your new bodyguard in tow. “All this fuss is unnecessary.”

Dave regards you across the darkened backseat.  “Your manager doesn’t think so and neither do I.  The sooner you accept my help, the better this will go.”

You lose your train of thought as the streetlights sweep across his gorgeous features.  His pouty lips… his aquiline nose… his strong jaw… his dark eyes… each feature takes its turn in the lamplight.  It’s probably for the best, taking him in all at once might actually kill you.  No one has the right to be this handsome.

You shake yourself out of your reverie and find Dave watching you closely.  You look away quickly, shifting your focus out your window.  You cross your legs, and the slit of your dress opens, revealing your legs up to mid-thigh.  You quickly adjust the skirt to cover yourself and tell yourself that you’re imagining Dave’s eyes flickering away.

You clear your throat, “Right, umm… how is this going to go, exactly?”

“I’ll be with you during the day.  When you return to your hotel room at night, I’ll hand off responsibility to my security team.  There will be extra security at your concerts and events as well.”

“That doesn’t sound too intrusive.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“I hope you like classical music.”

“We’ll find out.”

. . . . . . . . . . .

And that’s how it goes.  Dave meets you outside your door when you’re ready to leave in the morning and accompanies you on each step of your schedule.  He tags along to masterclasses, rehearsals, concerts, and your own practice sessions.  Ushering you in and out of town cars and back exits.

You share brief conversations in the car.  His dry, sarcastic wit comes out little by little as you spend time with him.  He often makes you laugh and you thrill when his pouty lips tilt at the edges into a wry smirk at something you said.

He leaves you at your hotel room door in each city at the end of the day, waiting until you close the door to call his security team.

You don’t lean against the door and wonder where he goes after he’s with you.  That would be inappropriate.

You don’t replay the events of the day, the glances, the almost touches, that assuredly exist only in your own imagination.

You don’t catalog the little things you’ve learned about him.  Single.  No kids.  Ex-military.  Coffee, black.  Unexpected crinkles around the eyes when he smiles.

You don’t seek him out in the concert halls, looking for a sign that he enjoys the music you’re making, always finding him watching you intently from backstage, still and focused.

You don’t find yourself pulling out your favorite toy to relieve some tension more and more frequently as the days spent in his company add up.

Definitely not.

. . . . . . . . . .

“You played something different tonight.” Dave’s deep voice breaks the silence of the car. 

You hum your assent, “Sarasate’s Carmen Fantasy.  It’s a real crowd pleaser.”

“I didn’t know a violin could do that.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, the soloist gets to show off in that one.”

“You like to show off, don’t you?”

The energy in the car shifts in an instant.  Dave’s dark eyes are even darker than usual as he regards you across the cab.  The question hangs heavy in the air.  

“You have to like to show off to do my job,” you explain a bit breathlessly.  You meet his dark gaze, and he hums in approval.  “Do you like to show off, Dave?”

He drags his thumb across his lower lip, your eyes can’t help but follow the movement.

“No, I don’t like to show off.  I like to watch.”

His words hit you like an electrical current, zinging across your skin, breaking you out into full body goose bumps.

You hold each other’s gaze in the dark, your breath coming in increasingly erratic pants.  He doesn’t look away.  Neither do you.

You cross your legs and allow your skirt to fall open up your legs, just like the first night you were in the car with him.  This time, the dress has an even higher slit—you save this particular gown for when you perform the Carmen, you enjoy playing into the persona.  This time, you don’t cover up.

You watch as his gaze flickers to your bare legs, exposed practically all the way to your underwear, the tip of his tongue sneaks out to wet his plush lips.

He drags his eyes back up to yours.  The air is thick with possibility.  A line has definitely been crossed.  Words begin to bubble up from your gut when the car pulls to a stop in front of the hotel.

The moment pops like a balloon.

Dave opens his door and swings up and out of the car.  In a haze, you open your door and step out into the night.

The next moments go by in a flash.

You hear someone shout your name, Dave yells, you’re shoved against the car, unfamiliar hands grab your shoulders and whisk you into the hotel lobby and into the elevator.  The doors close before you can understand the commotion happening outside the hotel.

You’re flanked by security guards you’ve seen around after hours.  The words “assailant” “custody” “weapon” permeate the buzzing in your brain.  Questions form and dissipate in the tangle of your thoughts before you can get them out.

The elevator doors open on your floor, and you are bodily moved into your hotel room.  Before they can close the door, you finally manage to ask what’s going on only to be met with vague instructions to stay in your room and wait.

You pace the floor and look out your window, hoping for a glimpse of what might be happening on the street below, but you’re on the wrong side of the building.  It doesn’t hold any answers for you.

Your hands reach for your phone only to realize it’s still in your bag in the car, along with your instrument case.

The car.

Your mind returns to that moment right before you pulled up to the hotel.  So ripe with promise and possibility.

Then you had gotten out of the car.

Oh shit.

You got out of the car yourself.  You opened your door yourself.  You weren’t supposed to do that. Dave opens your door.  Dave ushers you out of the car.

It’s all your fault.

Just as your thoughts threaten to spiral, there’s a firm knock on your door.

“It’s me.  Everything is ok. Open the door.” You hear Dave through the door.  You rush over and check the peephole like he told you to.  At least you can say you remembered to do that.  You confirm it’s him and open the door.

“Dave, I—”

He crashes into you, pressing you against the wall with the length of his body before claiming your mouth with a rough, desperate kiss.  His hands grip your chin, your shoulders, your hip as he devours your mouth.

Your hands scrabble against his chest, finding the lapels of his coat to hang on.

Just as suddenly as you found yourself kissing Dave, you aren’t.  He pulls back abruptly leaving you cold and breathless.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t ha—”

You pull him back to you by his coat, drawing his mouth back to yours.  You lick into his mouth, moaning as he responds.

This kiss is less frantic, but still full of need.  Your tongues tangle together, tasting and testing.

Dave eventually breaks away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m ok, but what happened?”

“A man came running toward you, the police have him now.  I’m sure it’s the person making those creepy comments about you online.”

“I got out of the car by myself, Dave, I’m so sorry, I know I’m n—”

“Shh,” he hushes you.  “It’s ok.  You’re ok.”

He presses his lips to yours, swallowing your protests, until you melt into him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He drags his lips down your throat, across your collarbones and shoulders.  He licks back up the side of your neck.

You gasp as he drags his tongue over the sensitive spot on your neck.

“I noticed this mark the night I first met you,” he murmurs into your skin. “I was so jealous of whoever got to do that to you.  I kept waiting to find out who it was, to see if they were worthy of marking your skin, but there has been no one and the mark has stayed.”  You sense the unasked question.

“My… it’s… a violin hickey,” you pant as he drags his nose up the column of your throat and along your jaw. “Where my violin rubs against my neck when I play.”  He chuckles.

“Should I be jealous of your violin?”

“Probably.”

He hums against you.  “Fair enough.”

He steps back to the hotel room door and for a moment your heart drops thinking that he might be leaving, but he only opens the door to pull your bag and violin case into the room.  You hear him conversing with a guard outside before he closes the door, locking the deadbolt before turning back to you.

He shrugs off his overcoat and suit jacket.  He loosens the knot of his tie and begins to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves.  You watch the movement of his fingers with rapt attention.

“So, Miss Show off. Do you want to show off for me?”  His eyes flash dangerous and dark and a thrill runs up your spine.

Adrenaline tingles in your fingertips as you find the zipper of your dress and pull it down your side.

You lock eyes with Dave as you let your gown fall to the floor, a puddle at your feet.  You are left standing in only your panties and high heels.

Dave drinks you in, caressing your curves with his warm gaze.  Your nipples harden under his perusal and wetness pools between your legs.  It’s all you can do to not rub your thighs together.

“Get on the bed.” He commands, his voice deep and rasping with need.  His shirtsleeves are rolled up now, exposing the tendons and veins in his forearms.  His hands fist at his sides, clearly fighting the urge to touch you.  But you’ve learned this about Dave, he is always in control of himself.

You walk over to the bed, turning your back to him and adding an extra sway to your hips.  You catch his strangled moan at the sight of your round ass framed by the string of your thong.  You turn to sit at the end of the bed with a satisfied smirk.  Dave stands at arm’s length from you, pinning you with his dark eyes.

“Show me.  Let me see if those fingers can play your pussy as well as they play your violin.”

You gasp at his filthy words and your center clenches with need.  Keeping your eyes on him once again, you drag your panties down your legs and off, kicking off your shoes as you do, and scoot a bit farther onto the bed.

You lean back into the plush bedding, resting on one elbow, knees bent, and spread your legs for Dave.

He drinks you in hungrily as you part yourself for him, dipping your fingers into your wetness.

Your mouth falls open as you circle your clit, a moan escaping your chest.  You fight to keep your eyes open so you can watch Dave watch you.  You really do like to show off and he is an eager audience.

You quicken your pace, hitting the rhythm you like best, and find yourself careening towards your peak.  Your hips buck on the bed, and you whine that you’re close.

“Show me,” Dave commands one last time before you fall over the edge, pulsing and shivering through your release.

 “Do I get a standing ovation?” you ask, breathless, once you’ve come back to yourself. 

“You tell me.”

You crack one eye open and find that he’s standing at the end of the bed naked.  His cock juts proudly away from his hips at full attention.

“My favorite kind.” You lick your lips as you sit up and crawl to the edge of the bed.  You look up at him as you take the tip of his cock between your lips, sliding down the hard length of him.  You watch his stomach flex with effort as he resists fucking into your mouth.

It makes you want to make him lose control.  He’s always alert and watching.  Even in the car on the way to the hotel tonight, he kept his cool as you tempted him.  Bursting into your room to kiss you is the only time you’ve seen him not in complete control of himself.

You tongue and suck and moan around him, losing yourself in the rhythm.  Dave drags his fingers down your cheek and throat.  

“Look at you, fuck.” He cups your breasts, swaying heavily between your arms, and pinches your nipples.  “I want to watch these tits bounce while I fuck you.”

You whimper around his length, arousal practically dripping down your legs.  He pulls out of your mouth, diving down to kiss you deeply and press you backwards onto the bed.

He arranges himself against the headboard and drags you on top of him.  “Ride me, baby,” he commands.  You eagerly comply, lining his weeping cock up with your entrance.

Your eyes roll back in your head as you sink down onto him, the stretch is so delicious with every inch you take.  When you bottom out, you open your eyes to find Dave breathing hard, the tendons of his neck taut with effort.

You rise and sink back down slowly, angling yourself backwards so he can see his cock disappear into your wet heat.  He licks the pad of his thumb and reaches between you, giving you friction that makes you shudder with each roll of your hips.

“Fuck yes,” he groans, eyes locked on your greedy pussy, swallowing him whole.  You feel yourself start to flutter around him, the intensity of his eyes on you drives your arousal higher and higher.  Being watched with so much desire gives you such a thrill that your orgasm threatens to take you far too soon.

You slow and lean forward, placing a hand on the headboard over Dave’s head.  Your breasts wobble in front of his face and he quickly takes one nipple into his mouth.  You arch your back into him as he sucks and tugs, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

He holds your hips still with one hand as he feasts on you, bringing his other to cup and pinch your tender flesh.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry as the pressure builds in your core.  Your hips grind into him, seeking relief as he relentlessly toys with you.

He allows you to move, to chase your high, riding his cock with abandon as he looks up at you with lust blown eyes.  You tilt your hips, and he finds your clit once again.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he praises you as you near your peak.  “Come on my cock, baby.  I want to feel you.”

You come with a gasp, rising up on your knees as your pussy clenches then collapsing back down with shuddering pulses.  Dave caresses your back before rolling you over and gently pulling out.  He kneels between your legs, stroking his length, as you lie boneless and hazy.

“That was so fucking hot, baby.” His jaw clenches as he strokes himself faster and faster.  “I fucking love to watch you.  Watch you play your violin… watch you touch yourself… watch you fuck…”

“It’s my turn, Dave,” you interrupt.  “I want to watch you come.  Come all over me.” You prop yourself up on your elbows and smirk at the way a shudder moves through his body.  He lets go with a groan, ropes of cum painting your tummy and chest.

You both collapse, satisfied.  Dave cleans you up, taking extra care with your breasts.  You smirk as he chases the warm cloth with his even warmer mouth.

“What happens now?” you ask later, when you’re twined together on the bed. “If that was the guy…”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me and even after you don’t,” Dave presses a kiss to the top of your head.  You snuggle into his side, relaxing in the knowledge that you are safe and thrilled with the prospect of showing off again for your audience of one.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: I don't have, and never have had, a violin hickey. I probably don't practice enough lol. But they are often seen as a point of pride among violinists.

Dave York Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist - in reblog

[wanderingblindly]

as i've gotten three different choscar kiss prompts (are yall. ok?), and idk when I'll get to them, i figured i could split the difference by sharing some of my choscar wip. is that a fair exchange? choscar anons pls love me premise is: charles as the "childhood best friend's older brother". oscar as the long-term down-bad idiot. charles is now -- surprise! -- oscar's boss at his new job.

Mr. To You

Is he allowed to use his phone? How often is too often to get up and wander towards the café? Is it weird to explore the floor a bit? Maybe introduce himself to his new coworkers?

He looks over at Max – sat in a different row, the middle desk – and notes the distinct lack of cell on his desk. That probably settles at least one question, doesn't it? Movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention; he shifts to take a not-so-subtle look, face freezing between two expressions: shock and abject terror.

Walking down their half of the hallway, waving good morning to a man that Oscar can't see, is a ghost from Oscar's past.

Or rather, a ghost from his entire childhood, teenagehood, and adolescence.

His shoes, light brown Italian leather, perfectly elegant and perfectly on trend, tap against the short-pile carpet as he draws closer – flashing another smile towards Max, whose shoulders visibly tense from behind.

Oscar feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, red-hot heat rushing under his skin like he's been doused in boiling water. Time seems to move in slow motion as he takes another step closer, as his hand – adorned with an oversized watch that should look horrendously gaudy, but rather highlights the span of his palm – moves to undo the button of his navy blazer.

And his chin turns, pink lips parted to flash yet another smile.

At him.

Charles Leclerc, the object of his hormone-fueled fixations since before he even had hormones to blame, looks at him – brilliant green eyes catching his with ease, dimple starting to show as he mouths 'good mor–'

Before he can finish, Oscar bolts; he scrambles to his feet and dashes towards the glass door a few steps behind him.

He's moving before he even realizes it, storming out onto the small balcony and stumbling over the wrought-iron seating set. He nearly falls flat on his face, which – at this point – may have been a mercy. Maybe if he punches in his nose and knocks out his teeth, Charles Leclerc won't even remember who he is – maybe he'll get to go home and quit over the phone, and no one would ever need to know.

The beating sun feels like ice compared to the blood pressing up against his skin, painting him a frantic, alarming shade of pink.

Not even taking a moment to calm his racing heart, Oscar pulls out his phone.

Oscar Piastri

What the fuck did you do

Arthur

yes yes good morning

im good! how are you???

Oscar Piastri

ARTHUR

Arthur

so polite, i am always saying this

why is it always me thats doing something??????

what the fuck did YOU do?? huh???

[timmydraker]

CW: drugs

When Tim is seventeen, Bruce gets a call from his principal asking for a private meeting to discuss Tim’s education. It’s not abnormal, but the parent teacher meetings weren’t due for another month and something about the tone of Professor Wilcot’s voice leaves Bruce concerned.

He organises it for the next afternoon and politely tells the timid looking man to please get to the point.

Wilcot answers with a tight lipped frown, “I recently discovered that Tim has a few nicknames. Now, that in itself isn’t a probably but the names themself are… concerning.”

Bruce immediately thinks of Red Robin and worries his son has been caught, but that makes little sense when Tim has shown to be the best at contingencies and secret keeping.

“Such as?”

With a deep sigh the man continues, “Well, there’s ‘Benzo’ and ‘Opi’. As well as ‘27’, which is recently learned references a so called ‘club’ of celebrities who die at that age for-for drug abuse.”

Even if he wasn’t a detective, Bruce could easily put it all together. Benzodiazepines and opioids, both drugs and a number well tied to such a thing all regarding a famed person.

It’s like he’s just gotten inside from being drenched in snow and had hot water dunked on him as dozens of different moments come to mind. He remembers Tim going from being down and low, tired and drained to suddenly being extra alert and chatty. He assumed it was coffee, but Tim often had a red nose and sniffled like mad.

He also got shakes, was made fun of by his brothers for being a sweaty person, and irritable at the best of times. He was jumpy and easily spooked, which everyone connected to him growing up safe and getting no sleep.

Tim also had forgotten basic case information a few times but usually managed to cover it up.

Bruce had noticed and responded by trying to lessen his work load, only for Tim to scream at him, storm off and come back looking drowsy a couple of hours later.

Wilcot doesn’t speak for a while, seemingly giving Bruce the chance to process his words but when he does it’s just to put forward the last bit of evidence Bruce needs.

“I admit it isn’t exactly ethical, but I check Mister Drake-Wayne’s locker and… I thought it would be best if I let you chose how to proceed lest I harm his reputation.”

A bottle, almost empty, of Oxycodone and a half full bottle of Oxymorphone.

Bruce looks away when the last bottle lands on the table, it’s a benzodiazepines called Dalmane and there are no pills because they’ve all been crushed into a powder.

Bruce doesn’t even want to think about how those drugs interact.

Wilcot says one last thing before he leaves the room, quit clearly giving Bruce a moment as the reveal settles in his mind, “Tim is a good kid. He’s kind to everyone and I truely hope he can get help. Please, if there is anything I can do, contact me. Other than that, I will keep this quiet. Please take care of him.”

Let it be said that Bruce Wayne loves his children, he genuinely cares for them and most importantly, he likes who each of them are.

But he’s not always the best father to them, not when he’s too far in his head and his head is too far up his arse.

He tries to confront Tim calmly and with compassion at first but it becomes clear he isn’t qualified to deal with it and he should have gotten Alfred or even Dick. When Batman deals with addicts all he has to do is get them to a hospital and show he isn’t judging them, but with his own son and when he’s not being Batman…

Tim instantly locks up when Bruce shows him the bottles and his defences go straight into overdrive, “Bruce, don’t. That’s not fair! Did you go through my fucking stuff?! That’s fucked up!”

Bruce looses his composure quickly, “Don’t you dare curse at me, Timothy. You are a goddamn hero and you’re doing this? Why did you tell me?! I could have helped you! Why, Tim?! You e seen what people who abuse drugs end up like-“

Tim screams so loud Bruce can practically hear how it hurts his throat, “WHAT FUCKING DRUGGIES?! IS THAT WHAT THEY END UP LIKE?! TOO FUCKING LATE BRUCE, YOU’RE TOO LATE! I GAVE YOU EVERY FUCKING SIGN AND YOU DID NOTHING SO FUCK OFF! I. AN HANDLE IT ON MY OWN!”

“This ain’t handling it, Tim. You’re addicted. You’re erratic, you’re bouncing from mood to mood and, have you seen how skinny you are? I’m worried, Tim.”

Maybe Tim would have been able to handle it better if he hadn’t been a few hours into withdrawal, but all he does is swing. He manages to catch Bruce of guard and hit him square in the jaw, only to realise what he’s done and start hitting himself the same way.

Bruce breaks as he watches his son who is usually so calm and controlled break down in a fit of aggression and pent up energy.

When Tim manages to hit himself hard enough Bruce. An hear a crack from his hand.

As he speaks again he dooms himself to a life time of regret, forever wishing he had gotten Alfred’s advice first.

“I’m sorry son, but until you’re clean, you will no longer be Red Robin.”

There’s a silence before Tim releases a wheezing laugh of disbelief.

It’s soon followed by the most enraged, harrowing scream Bruce has ever heard. It feels as if it shakes the walls before Tim kicks at his father’s stomach and bolts.

Bruce is too stunned to follow and foolishly assumes he can track his son anywhere.

Tim, even after he manages to shakily pull out the Dalmane he had in his pocket just as he passes the gate and take a big inhale, manages to put his mind together enough to remove his watch and key.

Bruce is forced to shamefully admit what happened a few hours later when he can’t find him and realises that Tim isn’t coming back.

Alfred for the first time in Bruce’s entire life actually glares at him.

Dick shouts at Bruce about how unbelievably stupid he is.

Jason just scoffs and says the kid will come back while Damian makes a comment about Tim being weak.

Maybe they would have reacted better if Bruce told them why Tim left, but he shamefully doesn’t want to admit he didn’t notice that Tim was a dealing with addiction under his own nose.

But Bruce has never been good with honesty.

[silverskye13]

Angst prompt courtesy of: @theunderscorwolph

[Accidental unfinished sneak peak. Whoops.]

Helsknight waited... Probably too long to check in on Tanguish. In his defense, the last time he spoke to Tanguish, he was heading to Hermitcraft, and while Hermitcraft was far from safe, it was, in its own ways, safer than hels. There were fewer people, fewer hazards in general, and there was Tango. Tango wasn't a fighter. As far as Helsknight could tell, he was mostly just squirrelly, and a bit cowardly. But he was fiercely loyal. That went a long way. He had even, misguidedly, attempted to save Tanguish from Helsknight once. Helsknight, who recognized he was a big, scary, angry-looking, armed and armored knight, could respect that. And Tango and Tanguish were friends, and they got wrapped up in each other sometimes, and this was far from the first time Tanguish was gone all day talking to his other half about some project.

It was, however, the first time he'd been gone for two days in a row.

Helsknight didn't really consider himself to be a worrier. Tanguish was an adult. He could take care of himself. And even if he couldn't take care of himself, Helsknight could recognize that everyone had some level of pride. Butting in on someone else's business uninvited was a great way to be a nuisance at best, and a problem at worst. So, Tanguish didn't come back by the evening? If there was a problem, Helsknight would respectfully let him handle it. Tanguish knew to come get him for help. And while Helsknight would feel truly guilty if his dithering caused Tanguish to respawn, he could take some solace in knowing he would wreak holy vengeance on whoever did it.

[That was one of the perks of being a knight: when you pointed at someone and said something along the lines of "Through hels or high water I will smite thee" or some such dramatic nonsense, people tended to get out of your way and let you get to business.]

Day two of no Tanguish, and Helsknight went from being passively concerned, to something closer to open nervousness. He asked, as subtly as he could, around the Colosseum if anyone had seen him. No one had, though Martyn did make a joke about Tanguish finally getting wise and finding a real knight to squire to.

[EB really needed to stop getting between them when Martyn said things like that. The power of a bloody nose on shitty humor was astounding.]

Eventually, Helsknight had given up and decided the best thing to do was go to Hermitcraft and track the little pest down himself. He suited up for what he thought might be a mild amount of trouble -- it was always possible he would run into Wels when he was on Hermitcraft, and if he planned on searching for someone, he wanted to minimize the time he was fighting his double. He donned his chainmail, and the netherite gauntlets and grieves. He made sure the clasps on his boots were pulled tight. He cinched on his netherite sword, and made sure it pulled easily from the sheath.

He picked up his cloak last, and gave it a contemplative frown. In hels, the cloak was a distinctive and somewhat necessary piece of costuming. It was the visual shorthand he needed to inform everyone that he was a knight, and therefore probably knew his way around a sword [and wasn't worth mugging]. For those who knew knights, it told them what Order he was a part of. Useful. On Hermitcraft, however... Being able to tell at a glance that he was a red-themed knight in dark armor, who looked suspiciously like but not quite enough like one of the other server members...

While Helsknight weighed the pros and cons of stealth and subtly, two things he was famously very bad at, the shield hanging on his wall shuddered and kicked, and someone tumbled out of the reflection with a shriek. Helsknight sighed and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling. He did a slow count to ten in his head, and tried not to be very, very annoyed he'd just spent twenty minutes putting on armor for no good gods-damned reason.

"Tanguish," Helsknight hummed, when he thought he could keep his voice relatively neutral, "for no reason in particular, I think we should make some ground rules about when you should check in with people--"

Helsknight turned, looked down, and anything else he was going to say vanished out of his head with such abruptness, it made his ears ring. Laying prone on the floor of Helsknight's cell, staring with wide, somewhat terrified eyes and the kind of grin that screamed about recently realized mistakes, was Tango. The Hermit blinked up at him. Helsknight blinked down at him. Somewhere down the hall, somebody laughed at something, which was their only indication that the whole world hadn't frozen with them when they made eye contact.

Helsknight could say, with honesty, he never expected to be put in a situation where a Hermit stumbled into hels, much less into his cell in the Colosseum, surrounded by all the biggest, scariest, most dangerous people in hels. At a complete loss on what to do, he fell back on what he thought was safest: namely, making sure no one got killed over it. Helsknight leaped over Tango -- who screeched ingloriously -- crossed to the door of his cell and slammed it shut. There was no lock -- he'd never needed one until now -- so he settled on turning his back to the door and bracing against it, content in the knowledge that, should someone come inside, he would be the first one to know.

It did not hearten him to see that Tango was still on his floor. He had apparently, when Helsknight stepped over him, curled up as small as he could, anticipating some kind of attack. He'd thrown his arms up over his face, and now peered at Helsknight through his fingers, humming tuneless, horrified syllables.

"Tangotek," Helsknight said, concentrating on keeping his voice very calm and very quiet, "you aren't welcome in my home."

"I didn't know I was going to end up here," Tango whispered back, his voice high and tense as a violin string.

"Go home."

Something flickered in Tango's eyes, something like determination. Helsknight hated that look.

"Uhm. N-no can do. Sorry."

"Can't." Helsknight said, barring his teeth at the Hermit. "Or won't."

Tango made a face at him, tight-lipped and tense. He propped himself up on his elbows. "Uhm. If. If I say won't, will you kill me?"

"Possibly."

"Then I can't. Definitely, definitely, physically can't." Tango looked around, scrambled to his feet, and dashed to Helsknight's bed. He, admirably, only winced a little when he set his spawn -- probably worried hels worked like the nether, and the bed would manage to explode somehow. With a bit more confidence this time, Tango stated again: "Can't."

"I can break that." Helsknight seethed quietly, and tried very hard not to grind his teeth. "It would piss me off. I like being able to sleep here. But I can break that, and send you back to Hermitcraft."

"But you don't want to do that," Tango said nervously. "Because-- uh-- you'd have to kill me, and Tanguish would be really, really upset about that."

"Tanguish isn't here. So either run home, or I will... escort you there." Helsknight put on his most wicked grin, and placed his hand on his sword meaningfully.

Tango staggered a step back away from Helsknight, somehow managing to go paler than he already was. The redstone freckles adorning his face sparked, and the flame of his hair took on a slightly green cast. The idiot Hermit was apparently made of very stern stuff, though, because he didn't flee for the nearest reflection. He took a few seconds to breathe. He had his own sword, a fact that Helsknight only noticed because his hand twitched towards the hilt uncertainly. Helsknight wasn't alarmed. Tango didn't move like someone who knew how to use a sword well, and he was fairly sure the Hermit's hands were shaking so much he would drop it if he tried to draw it.

Tango swallowed hard, darted a tongue across his lips, and asked with only a minimal tremor in his voice, "Uh, T-Tanguish isn't here? Like, not here here, or like... Not in hels, here?"

Helsknight narrowed his eyes. "Is he supposed to be?"

"He left my place yesterday, and said he would be back in a few hours," Tango explained quickly. "I thought-- like, you know, maybe he decided to wait until morning? But. He didn't come back. And I got worried. He. You know. He tells me if he can't make it. It's-- all it takes is a reflection to talk. You know? And I did look in my reflection, but I couldn't see anything, which normally means he's not by one. It was just dark."

Tango crossed his arms. It was a gesture that somehow made him look smaller.

"I thought-- I hoped-- you know. Hopping through the reflection. I could just check on him. Make sure he was okay. I think. I think maybe it just took me to his spawn point."

Tango thought that statement over, then flashed Helsknight an incredulous, almost horrified look, "Why is his spawn point your bed?"

"Tanguish was supposed to be with you," Helsknight frowned.

"You haven't seen him?"

"No." Helsknight rested his hand on his sword hilt, mostly just so he wouldn't fidget. "Could he have gone back to Hermitcraft and you just missed each other?"

"I checked," Tango said, shaking his head. "I have... X gave a few of us console access. I did a few scans... Is there. Anyone you know with that kind of access for hels?"

"Hels and Hermitcraft are different places." Helsknight wrinkled his nose. "Maybe Evil X?"

"Cool! We'll talk to him then!"

"Oh sure," Helsknight spat derisively, "I'll just go knock on the front door to Evil X's tower and ask politely for admin access, will I?"

Tango grimaced. "Will he not... Like that kind of thing?"

"Oh he'd just love it. One more thing to hold over my head." Helsknight snorted. "It wouldn't work anyway. I have a pact that says I can't directly oppose him. If he, for the gods know what reason, has Tanguish, and I knew--" Helsknight made a parrying motion with his hand. "It's better if I don't know. Keeps my hands from being tied."

"Huh," Tango leaned back against the wall, slightly more at ease. Helsknight wasn't sure if he liked the fact that the Hermit was getting comfortable. "I kind of figured you and X-- uh, Evil X, would be friends."

[hollowwrites]

Blindsided

Part 17

Ominis x MC

Summary - After learning new information about the next Trail, preparations need to be made and confessions must be told.

I just wanted to say now as I did in my last bit of spice that it isn't my thing normally so sorry if its hastily written and bad. Also, they're virgins, i wanted it to be a little awkward so sorry if you're not into that

Warnings - Spice (Oral, Mutual Masturbation(ish), unprotected P in V, mild pain from being virgins, mildly clincal talk about sex from research) Biting, Praise Kink, all characters aged up 18+

Word Count - 9389

~

“Ominis…you’re making it rather difficult to walk” she complained softly wriggling against the awkward way his elbow joined with hers.

They had decided the safest and best course of action would be to hole up in the Undercroft till the end of the day.

Both to avoid Sebastian and any of the Tri-Wizard organisers waiting to pounce.

The Room of Requirement may have worked, but Professor Weasley knew of its location. And if faculty knew…those who organised the trials would most definitely know.

So the Undercroft it was.

It worked out well. That was where Ominis had hidden that Tri-Wizard history book, and there were a few passages that he’d like Sebastian to read through…

…before Ominis’ inevitable apology for his outburst in the Library.

“Sorry…” Ominis smiled shyly as he released her from his grip momentarily, instead opting to snake his hand around her torso, settling at the small of her back “…but I’m not letting you out of my sight until this second trial is over.”

As they rounded the corner by the Undercroft a gaggle of younger students loitered about, awaiting the lesson about to begin above them. Evelyn took the opportunity to pull Ominis aside as they waited patiently for the corridors to clear, and they could safely descend to the depths of their hidden space.

She tugged softly on his arms till she was backed against the wall a gentle smile on her lips as she covered his eyes.

“I’m afraid that’s quite difficult for you” she teased delicately, earning a slight chuckle as he pulled her hands to his mouth.

“It is an expression…” he whispered against her finger tips before placing a chaste kiss to her knuckles “…one that I find quite apt. Because I can see you-”

His eyes shot towards her, locked with hers somewhat unknowingly. He could hear her breathing, talking. Just above that, hear the subtle sighs leaving her nose. So above that…must be her eyes. He focused in with an almost eerie accuracy, her features mapped in his mind, always.

He tapped her nose, then the triangle of moles across her cheek, drawing a line between each before bringing his hand to her jaw. His thumb settled over the apex of her chin, tilting it up as though staring into her very soul.

“-and I am not letting you out of my sight” he continued pointedly.

Evelyn gulped.

The vaguely intimate way in which he touched her had garnered a few looks from the students now filtering up the stairs. It didn’t help, of course, that she’d pulled him to the wall, her own fingers toying with the edges of his robes.

She could hear them whispering, and based on the slight narrowing of Ominis’ eyes; so could he.

“People are looking…” she whispered, the sound barely carrying on her breath as it washed over him.

“I am quite aware…” His voice came through the filter of his teeth, As was the norm when he was annoyed...or feeling protective. She wondered what they were saying, what Ominis had heard. But based on the flexing of his jaw she assumed perhaps it best not to ask.

They remained locked against the wall, his arm encasing her possessively until the students eventually filed into class. The Defence Against the Dark Arts tower was once again left empty and silent, save for the distant sound of the enchanted instruments playing tirelessly down the hall. This peaceful rift in time, between classes, had become the perfect time to skulk off together. Students busy learning. Professors busy teaching. Their only concern was Peeves and Black. Peeves they had managed to avoid his ire, luckily, and Black didn’t care enough to leave his office most days. Although that didn’t stop the taboo feeling that she was doing something wrong, welling in her stomach each time they opened that clockwork cabinet.

But she was with Ominis.

Safe.

~

Once again, Evelyn was struck by the obvious influences of the trio.

As normal, Evelyn’s corner remained untouched and perfectly polished. Every little detail placed perfectly for both ease, comfort and Ominis to avoid bumping into.

Sebastian left a small trail of destruction in his wake, the latest of which was a toppled over stack of barrels that had been left strewn across the room. He had been practising new spells, new curses, new everything, and this time the victim was the barrels…and a pile of quidditch equipment.

Had Sebastian brought Imelda down here?

And then there was Ominis.

He had adopted the space underneath the Triptych. The sad looking pile of blankets thrown underneath it was standard but since her last visit to the Undercroft, he had added much more. Made it more…homely.

With great insistence from Evelyn he had gained a mattress. A rather dilapidated looking one but it was a mattress nonetheless. It took a full afternoon of whinging but eventually they transfigured a couple of crates into the now comfortable bed. And though he would never admit it, Evelyn could tell he was grateful for her…nagging.

He’d stopped moaning about his aching back at least…

The mattress itself almost looked inviting with the multiple plush throws and blankets that adorned it. A scatter of pillows and cushions were tossed around with abandon but it was cosy. Lived in. Perhaps too lived in, considering he hadn’t slept in an actual bed in well over a month now.

He had also sheltered himself away, enclosing his space with bookcases, chalkboards, barrels. Anything he could get his wand on, he’d pulled towards him, building walls and dividers. She didn’t quite understand why until she stepped between them and into the makeshift room within a room.

It was immediately…warmer. Less drafty.

She smiled softly at these additions, though this home away from home just reminded her of why he was down here in the first place…

The Tournament.

And with the revelation of the second trial came yet another reason he couldn’t return to the boys dorms.

“Looks like you’ll be down here for a while longer…if the boys dorm is now not only covered in spider webs but damp too…” Evelyn remarked with a heavy tone of dismay.

As happy as she was that he was warmer, his nightmares were still…present. He hadn’t had one in a while but he could. And the idea of him being alone when they could occur was too much. It reminded her of her own twisted thoughts. Of him sleeping alone at Gaunt Manor.

No one to help him.

No one to be there for him.

No one to…love him.

“It’s not all bad…” he said, rather pleased with himself “…I haven’t heard Sebastian’s snoring in weeks”

Ominis’ cheeky grin almost made her forget herself. He happily manoeuvred his way into his den, wand blinking away as he cleaned up after himself. Shifted a blanket back onto a chair, a book onto a shelf, a teacup from the settee.

“Yes but…I don’t know. Something about you being down here alone-”

“Stay with me then” he said casually, continuing with his homely chores. His wand trailed over cover after cover till he found the Tri-Wizard History, throwing it atop the desk with a huff.

Sebastian would get an earful about this, no doubt about it.

“You mean sleep down here with you?” She asked incredulously.

Ominis didn’t miss a beat. He heard that sharp intake of breath, the tone in which she spoke. And if it was anyone else he’d be worried he’d said something wrong…

Well that’s a lie.

If it was anyone else he wouldn’t care to ask in the first place.

But this was Evelyn.

And they had already slept together multiple times. Shared a bed once.

So this development he simply found…amusing.

“Why not?” He chirped turning towards her and leaning back against the little chest of drawers his uniform stuck out of haphazardly. His prim and proper accent simply accentuated the teasing behind his words. It wasn’t really a question.

More of a dare…

And that alone set Evelyns skin ablaze.

Why not, Evelyn? It’s just sleeping…

Her own mind reasoned with her in a hushed whisper, almost like she thought Ominis could hear.

You’ve slept with him before. It’s fine nothing will happen.

…unless you want something to happen. Then you need only ask.

Remember he said it’s all he could think about?

Stop it.

You’re all he can think about.

“I…well…it’s…” she stammered and Ominis didn’t need sight to know she was blushing.

“You’re adorable when it comes to matters of the heart. Do you know that?” He smirked and crossed his arms.

“I am not…” she responded with a pout, crossing her arms in a similar fashion to him, only much more…sulkier.

“And so expressive. Thank Merlin! Sometimes I don’t even need my wand to know your mood” He threw his arms out, gesturing his aforementioned wand wildly in her direction. His smirk grew wider, lips parting to reveal the pearly white fangs at either side of his mouth.

It had been just over a week since she was last down here.

Since they had…been alone together.

But the air still felt thick and intimate. And as she noticed his lips parting she realised…it wasn’t the room making her feel this way. It wasn’t the rooms fault her breathing had become laboured and the air difficult to take in.

It was him.

His lithe frame that leaned taught. His forearms that flexed gently as he recrossed his arms. And that smirk. That arrogant and self important smirk. Why did that make her stomach knot?

Her sudden and, unbeknownst to him, lustful silence must have been just a second too long for his liking, his concern for upsetting her resurfacing. Ominis’ features softened and his frame relaxed, taking a confident step towards her to cup her face.

“Stay with me down here…” his soft tone presented the statement as a question this time “…I can make it warm, comfortable. I just need to know you’re safe”

And once again, her mind wondered to more sordid activities whilst he remained as sweet and as caring as he always had. A familiar guilt ate at her insides, shifting her eyes away from him and down towards the floor.

He was offering her a haven. And she thought only of how they could use it.

“I’d need clothes…pyjamas at the very least” she mumbled, blinking her thoughts quickly away as her eyes kept pulling towards the bed. Thoughts of what the sheets would feel like against her bare skin…what he would feel like.

“Not tonight, I don’t think” he whispered back as his boyish smile twisted quickly into a smirk. “Tonight…you can wear mine and first thing in the morning we can gather some necessities”

And once again he held himself in the most gentlemanly of ways, making her guilt even stronger. He pulled her closer, planting a chaste kiss against her forehead and beamed down at her, a genuine smile pulled across his hollow cheeks.

“You say this like it’s a permanent change”

“Mmm…” he hummed as his lips brushed down her temple and across her cheekbones “…I could keep you…”

They weren’t so much kisses as they were…caresses. His lips mirrored that which his finger drew out on the opposite side of her face and she shuddered.

He’s just touching me and I can’t help myself.

Then he laughed softly, the air expelled from him brushing the small hairs at her ear away.

“I don’t know how you put up with my…possessiveness” he chuckled breathily again, his fingers finally finishing their journey at her jaw, cupping her cheek within his palm.

“I’ve had practise…” she whispered sweetly “…what with how close we were last year. All that’s changed really is the occasional kiss”

Ominis huffed a small breath of laughter as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.

“I don’t really know where it came from…” he started quietly, like he was truly speaking his mind…freely…

“When Sebastian started down…that path…it triggered something within me I have not been able to satiate. I wanted to control everything. Every little aspect of his life -

“It’s why we clashed so often. Still do. I love him…like he was my own brother and I can’t stand idle as he suffers. Whether it’s to his own stupidity or any external force -

“Same with Anne. When she was cursed it felt a little like a part of me was cursed along with her. Because I love her. She treated me the same as Sebastian from the moment she met me -

“And you -

“I have never known anyone like you. You are a…beautiful contradiction, my love. Both the most deadly and caring person I have ever met. Kind and loving yet harsh and volatile. Sweet…and at times a little bit sour.

“And I love you…” he whispered softly, barely loud enough to hear. But down here…it seemed to echo around the room. Bounce around her mind.

“I’m in love with you. I’m not entirely sure when it happened. I just wanted you around in the beginning. All the time. But…at some point last year that want became a need. And I couldn’t imagine my life without you”

Words failed her as she looked up into the far away gaze of his glassy irises. He had a way with words. Always had. Each one like the note of delicate symphony. And it was music to her ears.

She had to blink away the tears that threatened to spill from her lashes, lest he think he had upset her. And she couldn’t bare to break his heart…even if it was just for a moment.

“I-“

“You don’t need to say it back. I just…wanted you t-“

“I love you too!” she beamed, the words falling fast as though she’d been holding them back. And in many ways, she had…

“I don’t know when either. Sometimes it feels like I always have. But at the very least… from the moment you offered me help in that window…I have been yours. And I love-“

She didn’t get to say it a second time…

His lips captured hers immediately. If she had been paying attention instead of concentrating on the stream of words that tumbled from her, she would’ve noticed the way his fingers untangled themselves from the hairs at the nape of her neck, and glided closer to her lips. As she spoke, his fingers honed in, so he could encapsulate her lips with pinpoint accuracy.

Strange how one little phrase can change everything.

Change the way someone can hold you or kiss you.

He had embraced her many times in many different ways. As a friend. A protector. With affection and with anguish. Yet there was something about this embrace that reminded her of the first time they kissed. Desperate, pleading and unyielding. Like a dam had burst.

But she could feel his love. Feel it pouring into her like warm waves lapping against a shore.

It was passion in every meaning of the word.

Needy, wanting but warm and reciprocated.

Ominis’ lips moved slowly at first, compensating for the speed in which his mouth collided with hers.

And though it was slow and gentle, he didn’t break. The only time permitted for air was as he tilted her head back and his position shifted slightly, towering over her.

He shrugged his arms past hers, manoeuvring his hands to her lower back. As he held her tightly, he pressed her into him more, forcing the air to come gasping from her lungs.

With her hands now relegated from their original position, she was forced to be bold.

Not that she was against being bold. Not with him.

She wound her fingers around his neck, holding him loosely against her. A gentle reminder, should he pull away, that he would not be going far.

But he took that as more of an invitation.

As he stepped forward, shuffling along the floor with desperation to get closer, he brought her almost completely off her feet, her gasps filling his mouth. His fingers tightened around her waist as he supported her, trailing down the fabric of her shirt till he felt the divot of her hipbone beneath the material. The trembling of his fingers betrayed him, a clear sign accompanied with his busy lips, that he had an insatiable hunger for her.

Without knowing, they had stumbled across the room and against the mattress on the floor, tumbling to the bed over a stray blanket. He held her tight to his body as his knee hit the mattress, cradling her against him and protecting her from the fall. A breathy laugh left them both, neither wasting another second as their lips crashed eagerly against each other again.

At first he gently tested the waters. His tongue lapping at her pillowy bottom lip like a snakes might, a thought that made Evelyn giggle, though the noise was lost amidst his greedy lips and gentle tongue.

Not even that was enough.

Roaming hands covered the landscape of her torso, kneading and poking, gripping and digging into her flesh. His hand ran up her side, fingers dancing over her ribs like the keys of a piano, slowly but surely untucking her shirt from her waistband. The cold of the Undercrofts stagnant air nipped at her skin and as his hands quickly replaced the fabric he had discarded, the backs of his fingers were greeted with the familiar braille of her goosebump pocked skin.

The corner of his lip curled, trying with all his might not to smirk as she murmured softly beneath him. But it was too late.

He didn’t want to seem cocky, but he couldn’t stop the twitch peeling at his lips. He merely observed the effect he had on her and found irrefutable evidence of her longing, he can’t be faulted in finding pleasure in her…well…pleasure. Can he?

She could feel his satisfaction, his lips becoming thin and his kisses becoming sharper as he grinned. All teeth and sharp canines.

There was no way he was getting all his own way this time.

Obviously she enjoyed their last…dalliance. It had haunted her mind many times over the last few days, that same knot he had undone skillfully, tying itself back up each time she thought about it. And with each time the knot grew tighter. And larger. And more complex. Till not even her own fingers could help her anymore.

She wanted him.

So when he felt the dimples of her skin, a smug smile threatening to spill from his lips, her own hands palmed against his chest, feeling the ever quickening beat of his heart under his shirt. She revelled in the fact his smirk faltered, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth as her finger hooked around the knot of his tie, slipping easily between the silken material and pulling it apart. Pulling him down further along with it, the material quickly ripped from his neck.

Merlin…

There was something about his neck that got to her.

The clenching of his jaw when he absentmindedly ground his teeth.

The flexing of the tendons as he turned his head.

The bob of his throat when he swallowed.

Even the constellation of moles that waterfalled down his neck. Everything pointed, guided, coerced her further down. Led her eyes down to the chest her hand currently pressed against.

And when she pulled the tie from his lapels and the crisp white folds of his shirt fell open, he gulped, pulling away just a fraction.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised she was so forward. She was honest. Unabashedly so. At times it bordered on blunt. After all, it was her who first took his arm in Hogsmeade. Her who asked him sleep next to her in the Common Room. Her who first kissed his cheek just a few weeks ago.

Now her fingers undid button after button, exposing his skin to the cool air of the Undercroft.

Though he was surprised at her forward action, undressing him slowly, it wasn’t completely unwelcome. But it didn’t stop a note of panic from rising in his throat like bile.

He hadn’t seen himself naked, and yet all signs seemed to be leading to her seeing him first.

She had seen him once in the dark of her home. Deep under the cover of night and the guise of friendship stopping any lewd thoughts from completely taking over.

He remembered how she gently explored the scarred landscape of his torso. How she gasped in horror at the initial sight, yet embraced him moments later with no care to how he looked.

He could feel her tiny fingers trembling, her breath catching and the tiny sounds of her teeth nibbling at her lip.

She was having this reaction to him.

Sebastian often told him scars feel worse than they look and that he had nothing to fear.

And it was only now he truly believed it.

Emboldened by her want for him and the tiny hesitation her fumbling fingers demonstrated, Ominis reached down and looped his arm under her back, pulling her up and throwing her against the pillows with a barely suppressed growl from deep within his throat.

The combined gasp squeal that left her only encouraged his behaviour.

His fingers dug into her side, keeping his arm around her, her back arched, pressing flush to his almost completely exposed chest.

He didn’t want her to move. Didn’t want her going anywhere. When he said he wouldn’t let her out of his sight, he meant it. If that meant keeping her down here like this, so be it. Especially if she kept pressing into him the way she was, lips urgent and desperate as though if they stopped they could never be this way again. Every movement and murmur to be relished and remembered.

He leant in further, his knee nudging her legs apart and sliding up her thigh. It settled between her legs, her body lowering subconsciously, seemingly searching for any friction she could find.

Ominis felt the way her hips bucked against his thigh, tiny murmurs filling his mouth as his teeth bit softly into her lip.

He tried to remain a gentlemen, he honestly and truly did. But her noises, and soft skin, and hot, warm breath, and-

It was all too much.

He could feel his jaw working as he got progressively more and more wound up, taking all of his willpower to resist the urge to rip at her clothes.

He knew what lay just beneath the surface, could only imagine what her breast felt like as he listened to her breath, heavy and panting. All he had to do was reach out-

Suddenly, He pulled back with a sharp intake of air, his eyes holding a dangerous concoction of love, true love, and an untamed want.

Whether it was the new position they found themselves in or something else…but he could feel himself about to snap.

“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t push so hard. You’ve already given me so much”

The soft indents of flesh along her side quickly rushed with blood as his fingers relinquished the hold on her waist.

“No please…take. Take what you want…take me” Evelyn practically pleaded, immediately chiding herself for allowing someone to have this effect on her.

“Be…” he inhaled again, through his nose to clear his head, controlled and calculated “…Be very careful how you word things to me”

“I know what I’m saying. And I mean it. Take me”

Her own voice sounded foreign to her.

And yet didn’t to Ominis.

He recognised the breathy, airy sound of her arousal. The way each inhale took just a second too long as it caught in her throat. The way her breath was hot against his lips. And there was a husk to it he knew only he had heard.

He’d heard it when she woke in a morning, mind caught between slumber and reality. Vulnerable and soft.

He’d heard it when he kissed her, the first word afterwards always carrying the barest hint of a croak.

And he’d heard it when his fingers roamed between her legs. Every murmur, every moan that very same ache to her voice.

It was a privilege to know her this intimately. To be the only one to ever know her this intimately.

And that he was so close to more. More of her.

All of her.

An act he should be terrified of…but wasn’t.

If Ominis was being honest, and rather pessimistic with himself, he never expected to get this far. With anyone.

From his early teenage years he assumed he’d never kiss anyone. Never feel the touch of someone’s skin and it mean anything more than an accidental stumble or at best a gesture of friendship.

And then he met her.

Evelyn and her perfectly smooth voice and fingers that sought him out. No accident needed.

“Are you sure?” He asked as he pulled away from her, propping himself up with one arm, the other holding her waist as though holding something precious and delicate. The heat had melted from his voice, leaving only concern and worry behind. It wasn’t that he no longer wanted her, that couldn’t be further from the truth. He wanted her to be certain.

“I’m…sure…”

Suddenly it felt real…

Panic. Clear panic bubbled in her throat…there was still doubt.

Not with him. He would be perfect, as always…

But since Ominis and Evelyn had gotten closer, she had made the mistake of researching. And her discoveries were…less than appealing.

Every muggle novel or article described her experience as a violation. An abomination of her virtue and destruction of her self worth. The words ‘whore’ and ‘harlot’ jumped from the pages. Combined with what she had heard people say of her own mother as a child…a single mother out of wedlock…it simply didn’t seem worth it.

And the Wizarding World wasn’t too much better.

Yes, Sex was much less frowned upon amongst her fellow witches and wizards. But the almost clinical way that it was described left her feeling no better.

‘A sharp shooting pain can be felt during a woman’s first time as the hyman tears making it an uncomfortable and sometimes painful experience’

That sentence alone bounced around her head.

Pain. Whore. Tear. Violation.

No where, except the fantasies of romance writers, described the ordeal as anything positive. Joyous. Fun.

They were supposed to make love…yet no where even uttered the word.

“…I’m just...” she started, voice shaking just as much as the fingers she clung to him with “…I’m scared…”

“I’d be worried if you weren’t…” Ominis chuckled softly, cupping her cheek and running his thumb across the soft expanse. “I am too in truth…We can take things slowly. And we can stop at any moment. You need only say…”

“I’m not worried about that. It’s going to hurt…” she stated, matter of factly

“I…” he swallowed thickly, but continuing on with a tenderness to his voice “…have heard that can be the case…I’ll be as gentle as you need me to be…but you may be right. It could hurt…”

Evelyn squeezed her eyes closed, taking a calming breath in and blowing back through her lips. The cool air fanned over Ominis, a concerned albeit soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I want it to be you…” she whispered, hastily looking at the gap between them and tugging her skirt up. He quickly snapped up her hand, stilling her movements.

“It doesn’t have to be now or-”

“No let’s just…get it over with” she muttered wriggling in his firm but gentle grasp

“Evelyn…” he held her wrist loosely, making sure not to hurt her, eyes hard and face stoic “…I mean it. It doesn’t have to be now. Or ever if you don’t want to. I love you…not your body.”

She blinked.

No where had she read about this.

“Do you mean that?”

“Stupid question really…” Ominis scoffed, his hand releasing her wrist and trailing up her arm. His hand journeyed slowly up to the side of her neck, slowly tracing across her moles on her cheek pointedly before placing his palm against her neck. “…considering I hadn’t touched you properly for the first two years of us knowing each other and yet still fell in love with you”

His fingers travelled softly across her neck, feeling her heart hammering against the soft flesh below her jaw.

“Well…yes but-“

“But nothing, Evelyn” he interrupted “What you say goes. You want to continue? I will oblige. You want me to be forever at your side and never touch you again? I will oblige”

He laughed through his nose, hanging his head a little lower as though telling her a secret “I can’t say I wouldn’t miss your lips…” he murmured as his thumb diverted to run along her lip “…but I would do anything to make you happy”

Evelyn once again found herself at a loss for words though she knew the course she wanted to take.

With her words failing her, she did the only thing she could think of, leaning up to place a soft gentle kiss against his lips.

“Just…take it slow” she whispered against him, falling back against the pillow as a gentle rumble left his throat.

“With pleasure” Ominis murmured before pulling himself away from her.

She almost whined, protesting against his sudden absence, when his eyes darkened.

The way he knelt above her, as though he could see the fast rise and fall of her chest sent shivers down her spine. Shivers she was convinced he could feel, because his hands chased them.

They traced, slowly and methodically, down from her cheek to her waist. They stopped at every juncture that caused her breath to hitch.

The sensitive spot below her jaw that he brushed against, pulling the emerald green ribbon from her lapels.

Her stomach as he skillfully and methodically unbuttoned her shirt.

Her collarbone that his nails grazed, peeling her blouse back.

He almost entirely ignored her breasts, though they heaved and settled as he removed her clothing. It almost made her…needy, wanting to demand he touch her and pull those soft whines from her like he did before.

She soon realised why he avoided that area…

He had other plans.

Like a distraction, his fingers played over the scar along her side, tracing the swirling gnarled skin and finding beauty in it. Beauty in the marks that littered his own body. Beauty in her soft skin and enduring nature.

Then he suddenly yearned to taste that soft skin, head dipping quickly to encapsulate her soft peak in his mouth.

She gasped, harsh and loud, back arching and eyes going wide as her body grew warmer, the familiar buzz tingling its way between her legs..

Ominis simply chuckled, grinning whilst his mouth was full, his warmth breath fanning across her chest. As he grinned, his teeth scrapped across her small mounds, another harsh gasp making her push into his mouth further. Obviously, he did not complain, nipping at the tiny bud at the peak of her breast, tugging it between his teeth.

His fingers didn’t cease in their journey either. After exploring their shared scar, his nimble digits fell like rainfall to her hips and thighs.

Unknowingly, or more likely knowing exactly what he was doing, his sightless eyes looked up at her, his grin wide, her flesh tucked between his teeth. He tugged again gently, earning himself another sinful gasp before chuckling darkly, releasing her breast from his torment and continuing down…

Down…

Down his kisses trailed. Along the ever quickening rise and fall of her stomach, over the boney divots of her hip bones.

He rose on his knees just enough to tug her skirt down and off her legs, feeling the tremble of her thighs as he did.

Thats when he listened. Heard her soft shaking breath. Felt the quake in her body. Heard the way her hands slid over her skin, covering anywhere exposed.

He discarded her skirt with a flourished wrist and turned his attention back to her fully. He felt out her wrist and pulled it away from her chest, holding it loosely away from her.

“Darling…” he whispered, his tone full of accidental amusement “…I’m blind”

“Well yes but…” Evelyn choked out a nervous laugh, squirming beneath his non existent gaze “…instinct I suppose”

Ominis sighed, the jovial tone now lost.

Using her wrist and hooking underneath her knee, he lifted her with ease, pushing her just a little bit more up the bed. Her back now propped against his pillows, leaving her no choice but to look down at her almost completely nude form.

“You have nothing to worry about” he said softly, sitting up between her legs, his fingers idly tracing over her thighs, carefully and slowly dipping below the band of her underwear.

“You are beautiful” he stated with no room for arguments.

He deliberately took his time removing her underclothes. If at any point she wished to stop him, his movements would cease and her virtue remain intact.

But she didn’t.

She simply clung to the sheets below her, staring up at the man above her treating her like fine China.

Once again as her underwear came away, he felt the shake of her leg. Her nerves were understandable but they simply would not do.

Before he allowed her leg to drop down, raised high as he removed that last shred of clothing, he gripped her calf with barely contained want and brought it up to his lips. He pressed along her smooth skin, peppering along her leg till he reached her knee.

“You’re so soft. So warm” he murmured against her skin lowering himself to reach her thighs. He positioned her leg over his shoulder, almost burying his face in the pillowy flesh of her thigh.

“You have no reason to hide…from anyone” he whispered inching closer and closer to the apex of her thighs.

It was only when he placed a kiss against a particularly sensitive patch of her skin that she shook herself from her haze.

Her hand flew forward, grabbing him by the hair and pushing him away.

“What are you doing?” She panted, her voice filled with fear.

She didn’t anticipate that doing that would elicit such a reaction from him.

With her hand still knotted in his hair, his neck craned backwards and his milky eyes seemingly foggier than normal, he looked…sinful. Lips parted and wet from his constant kisses. Jaw flexing in anger from being ripped from his conquest. A dark smile revealing sharp teeth as he chuckled.

“I was enjoying you” he groaned, fingers digging into her hips as he held back “I can stop…but this will be so much easier if you’re ready”

“I am ready” she argued, gulping back the idea of his face buried…there.

Ominis rolled his eyes and couldn’t stop the sarcastic chuckle that left him.

“Please…” he scoffed indignantly, fingers relinquished their grip on her hip to slide under and trace her folds.

Sometimes his memory annoyed him. How he could recall, in detail, every minor inflection someone had in their voice in an argument. How he could still remember the texture of Bubotuber Puss against his skin after yet another catastrophic potions class.

But right now…his memory served him well.

Every divot and fold of her core ran through his mind. He recalled how her fingers pleasured herself and exactly how he could replicate it. The way he had memorised her, gave him a pinpoint accuracy for her desire and the slickness that awaited him.

“You need to-“ his breath caught and his eyes widened when his fingers dipped between.

As before, her need was evident.

He couldn’t help but gulp, his own arousal straining against the confounds of his trousers at this…revelation.

Oh she was indeed ready.

But this little discovery only made him more eager to have her…to taste her.

“Just trust me” he tried to whisper but instead his voice came out as a rough growl. He hoped it didn’t scare her, cursing himself for his thinly veiled want.

“It’s just…” her fingers tightened in his hair and he let out a sharp hiss, his hips flexing against the mattress and sending a shiver up his spine “…it seems so…wrong”

“Is it so wrong to want you to come apart?” He asked as softly as he could manage. With his gentle tone her fingers relaxed, still tangled in his pale locks but no longer holding him back like a rabid dog.

“No but-“

“And is it so wrong for it to be me who does that?” He whispered, slowly lowering himself giving her all the time in the world to stop him.

“No…” her voice broke

“Then do not deny me, love”

He allowed a silent beat to pass between them before he lowered further.

…Then his tongue replaced wherever his fingers had been.

Evelyn couldn’t deny that the feeling was…beyond her comprehension. She gasped loudly and rolled her head back against the pillow, his tongue working to relax every muscle in her body, as though each and every one of her nerves were being stimulated. She felt a heat course through her body.

Strange how an act can be so arousing, so utterly tempting that it winds the spring in your core tighter…and yet also work to immediately satiate that need.

As she gasped and groaned, Ominis did the same, her noises fuelling every flick of his tongue. And he found that each time he hummed or murmured his approval, she shivered and pressed herself down further onto his waiting tongue.

Unknowingly, His nose bumped against that bumble of nerves each time she bucked and moaned beneath him.

And soon it became more of a battle than a slow dance.

His hand strained against her hips, trying and failing to suppress her eager mewling. Until eventually he had enough, looping his arm over her leg, forcing it down as his hand crept up her torso. He gently coaxed her back down, flat against the mattress, feeling each moan vibrate from her chest.

He almost growled, though he contained his grimace against the sensitive area he now resided.

He lapped greedily, like a man starved. And though he was obviously blind, Evelyn noticed as she looked down his eyes were squeezed shut, delighting in every moan he pulled from her.

His tongue, flat and wide, travelled up her form. From her core to the sensitive nub atop, he replaced any wetness with his own.

“You are…” he interrupted himself, another feverish lap up her folds, his nose buried deep against that little spot again “…you taste…”

He flexed every muscle against her, a desperate attempt to stop himself crashing into her like a tidal wave. To trap her beneath him and dine upon her for hours.

Because he was not lying.

His condition made him sensitive to everything else around him. And her warm scent and sweet taste were a perfect addition to her already beautiful symphony of moans and sensations.

“…perfect…” he groaned, his tongue voraciously seeking any point that made her tremble.

He was almost angry for a moment that he could have been potentially deprived of this. Just another layer of her person that he knew and no one else did.

Another facet being just how…needy she was.

He knew this from her guiding him against her before but now…

As he spoke, she pushed softly on his head coaxing him back down even from his brief reprieve…

“Don’t…stop…” she panted, her back desperately trying to arch off the bed yet being held firm by his long arm snaking up to her chest.

And he obliged, diving eagerly back to lap, suckle and nip at her with an increased passion and intensity.

His focus became unwavering against her clit. His attention undivided as he felt her hand grip at his hair as though keeping him in his place. His tongue flicking over and over again groaning from the cacophony of sensations he could feel from her. And the delicious vibration of his tongue made her almost weep.

The ache in her stomach fell lower and lower, her mind reeling that she had almost stopped this.

And now he emphatically dined upon her, keeping her teetering on the edge. Torture in its most blissful form.

“Ah-“ Evelyn whispered before a sharp whimper cut through the otherwise silent room.

Because in her reverie, she hadn’t noticed his other hand move from her hip…and press against her entrance. His fingers curled inside her, filling his ears with such pretty little noises.

A breath caught moan seized in her throat, the only oxygen permitted being sharp little inhales as his finger left and married with another.

Her vision muddied as she bit into her lip, trying and failing to ease her need for him. Everything longed for him. Her stomach ached for more. Not more fingers, not more of the same. Him.

But she was so close.

And not a few seconds later, his fingers beckoning her and his lips locked over her, tongue fluttering…she sank. Sank into the sheets, fingers sinking into his hair, knees buried in his side.

With a loud whimper, nullified through her teeth, she found her release. The tension and fear surrounding the whole ordeal seemed meaningless now as she lay swimming in a hazy soft buzz.

Ominis simply smiled, a purr of satisfaction leaving him as he removed himself from between her legs. He could feel the heat radiating from her. Feel her slick against his nose, lips and fingers. Feel the tremble of her thighs as he situated himself between them again, pulling and spreading her apart.

“We can stop at that…” he murmured, his voice a much lower register than normal, leaning down to kiss along her neck.

It wasn’t completely a lie.

He would happily leave their evening at this, leave her to recover and snuggle into his side. Listen to her soft breathing as they fell asleep.

But even Evelyn, as naive about these affairs as she was, knew he wanted more.

If it weren’t for the brief glimpse of his darkened eyes, it was the hard and throbbing length pressed against her lower stomach as he leant down.

She tried to silence the gasp of shock as it pressed against her but failed. The noise itself sending him into overdrive and taking every shred of his willpower to resist the urge to rut against her.

“No…” she panted “…I want all of you”

Suddenly, she felt as though there were a time limit. As though every second not touching him was wasted time. Her hands sought him out, pushing the folds of his shirt off his shoulders whilst her other hand fumbled with the buttons of his trousers. And once again he encapsulated her wrists in his long fingers.

“Let me take care of you. I just need you to…” he bit his tongue, not really knowing how to phrase such a thing “…are you sure?”

Evelyn nodded feverishly, the haze of her climax still clouding her mind

“Certain…”

With her confirmation, he once again sat up on his knees, tugging at his trousers and underwear and releasing his throbbing member.

It was though the act of seeing him fully for the first time wiped clear the warm fuzzy feeling of her release.

And she gulped.

Because though she hadn’t seen a man naked before, she’d seen diagrams and pictures in books…that looked...large

Its leaking tip glistened in the low light of the Undercroft and the pale pink of it seemed so much darker against his alabaster skin. Almost angry.

“Is…something wrong?” He muttered, gripping the waistband of his trousers, brows furrowing.

“Fine!” She blurted out hoping her lack of breathing hadn’t given him a complex.

She had forgotten for a while…this was his first too.

“It’s just…” she murmured, not being able to take her eyes of it as it swung low. Without thinking, she reached forward, curious to see its comparison to her own fingers.

The moment her finger brushed against the wet tip, it twitched violently and Ominis hissed sharply through his teeth.

“I’m sorry. Did that hurt? Did I…I just wanted to see…” she stammered, pulling her hands back against her chest, retreating away from it as though looking at it could harm him.

“No just…a little warning next time” Ominis said softly, that same nervous cadence to his voice from earlier. The same nervous energy she had displayed not minutes ago…

“Can I-” Evelyn murmured, her hands reaching forward again.

“Yes…” he breathed, sucking in a breath sharply and keeping it in his throat.

This time when she touched him, he didn’t flinch. She marvelled at how soft it was. She didn’t know what to expect when it had been described as ‘hard’ in so many books. She almost expected it to be like stone. Or like tree bark. But it was smooth like silk.

Until she squeezed and realised just why it was described that way. Not only was it much bigger than her fingers but it somehow seemed harder than bone.

A thrill shot up her spine as she watched him.

His eyes fluttered closed as her hand closed around his girth.

His cheeks tinged pink, flushed and flustered unlike she’d ever seen him before.

Lips pursed and wet from her, his teeth biting into himself as she had.

Head rolling back and throat bobbing as she jumped softly away at him, almost out of instinct.

Was he feeling how she felt?

There was no way he wanted her like she wanted him? Yet it seemed that way. She gazed upon a perfect mirror image of herself in the throes of passion.

And she was…elated.

A sick tingle worked its way up her spine as she wondered, truly, how similar their attraction was.

What noises could she pull from him?

She quickly found out as her pace increased around his length and a deep groan left his chest.

Evelyn paused.

She did that…

An almost predatory grin split her face whilst her hand continued before being halted by the bucking of his hips and a desperate, shameful whimper tumbled from his lips.

“E-Evelyn…please” Ominis begged, his stomach clenching almost doubling over as he pulled himself from her grasp.

“Am I hurting you?” She asked, almost embarrassed. She thought she was doing well…for a complete novice.

“No you’re…” he shuddered and bought himself back down to her level, nuzzling into her neck “…you’re perfect. Perhaps too perfect” he laughed against her neck, teething at the skin along her collarbone.

Though the intimacy had taken several steps back, it somehow felt more heated.

Not a moment before she held him gently between her hands, the evidence of her own arousal glistening on his flushed face…

…now he just gently nibbled on her neck.

But something about that alone made her arch and moan into him, earning those same noises from Ominis.

His hips flexed and she felt the twitching and, somehow, harder length rub against her lower stomach. Her soft yet lustful moans were sending his body into overdrive. It was becalming an increasingly difficult task to stop himself losing it and rutting against her as hard as he could. Out of pure primal instinct, she lifted her legs and knotted them around his waist, his member falling to brush softly against her folds.

They both gasped, Ominis pulling back to gaze sightlessly down at her.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, his brows furrowing, forehead crinkling with concern.

Evelyn struggled to hear him over her own heartbeat, hammering in her ears.

“Yes…” she breathed, tilting her hips down towards the twitching arousal at her core.

Ominis sighed, his warm breath fanning over her face. He rocked to the side slightly, leaning his weight on one arm, his other disappearing below. Evelyn watched until his hand was between them, following the cascading moles on his body, the flexing of his muscles and tendons underneath ivory skin. She followed the movements of him looming over her until she reached his eyes, staring off to her right somewhere…

…and they still carried that same concern. That same worry.

As though he could sense her curious eyes trying to read him like a book, he laughed nervously and bit his lip.

“You may need to…guide me” he murmured, voice heavy with something she couldn’t quite identify. Shame? Anxiety? Embarrassment?

He’s feeling the same as I am

As though that wasn’t clear from the shaking of his hands.

Evelyn bit the inside of her lip, suppressing the relieved smile that threatened to expose her. Her hands snaked up to cup his face, his eyes immediately fluttering closed at the comforting gesture.

“Of course…” she whispered before she felt the dull poke of his arousal at her core. Her breath caught on the lump in her throat, his tip swiping up between her wet folds.

Even that, and that alone, made a gruff grumble vibrated through Ominis. And again a sick thrill shot up her spine.

I haven’t even done anything and-

“There!” Evelyn squeaked, immediately humbled as he pulled himself back down to her core.

“Ready?” Ominis asked a final time, as her shallow breathes became faster. She nodded and he simply laughed, despite himself… “You need to talk, love. I don’t know what that rustling of hair means”

“Sorry…yes…I’m ready…” she breathed so quietly even his ears had to strain to hear.

“Okay” he pressed his lips to her forehead before pushing his hips forward.

…

It was like…the worst cramp she had ever experienced.

And it somehow travelled up her spine and down each limb.

She arched her back silently, almost to retreat away from the ache, only to push him further inside with a high pitched yelp.

And Ominis felt guilty immediately.

Because she was so warm. And so wet. And so welcoming. Even with her nails digging into the sides of his head.

It took all of his willpower to halt, cease his movements and feel more of her silken walls.

“Are you okay?” He croaked, all of his energy going into stopping himself from driving into her deeper. Torture in its finest form.

She didn’t respond.

But he could hear, actually hear each individual heartbeat that hammered against her ribs. And it was fast. Scarily…fast…

“Evelyn?” He said almost sternly, all traces of the previous restraint gone, replaced with immeasurable worry. His hand darted to the side of her face, trying to feel for any indication of her wellbeing.

“I’m fine…” she muttered cautiously, her back relaxing against the mattress.

The steadying breaths she inhaled through her nose and out through her mouth allowed her time for her body to adjust. And though the initial snap was sharp and painful, she could now feel herself moulding and conforming to him.

And he felt…almost good.

She opened her eyes, a few tears trickling down the side of her face and looked up at him.

And giggled.

And her walls clamped around him impossibly tighter.

So whilst she was giggling and relishing in the moment, Ominis struggled. Which only made her giggle more, his face contorting with pleasure as she did.

“T-that’s not fair” he panted, his sharp cheekbones turning a pretty pink.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered through barely suppressed laughter.

“You’re okay though, yes?” He asked with increased panic as the tears that leaked from her reached his hand.

“Right now…here in this moment, with you…I’m perfect” she reassured, her thumbs running across his cheeks.

Ominis froze, his features melting to a soft and gentle smile. A smile reserved only for her.

“You’re always perfect…” he murmured, lowering his body down to hers and nuzzling into her neck. His lips danced over her skin softly, earning himself a pleased little hum from her throat. Just the noise itself made his cock twitch inside her and that ‘pleased little hum’ morphed into a sinful whimper.

Which he revelled in…drank it all in, committed it all to memory.

Memorising every noise she made, every whimper and moan and delicious breath that he caused her to choke on.

Noting every touch of her skin and every point of contact. Her soft breasts heaving against his own hard chest. The bones of her pelvis that dug into his every time he pushed into her.

Her soft delicate hands that dropped from his face to his shoulders and dropped further as his pace quickened.

The scorching lines her nails left on his back with each slow, sensual thrust into her.

And he could feel his resolve breaking.

Feel himself drowning in her.

And quickly at that.

Which he expected. Sebastian had told him, he wouldn’t last long.

But now that he was in it, he yearned for more.

So his pace quickened further. His length plunged deeper. Hips slamming harder.

He wanted to feel more. Feel all of her. Couldn’t get enough of her. And with time working against him…he’d have to make the most of it.

Evelyn, was simply happy the pain hadn’t lasted long. And now she could fully experience him with none of the negatives.

And there were no negatives.

He seemed to fill her completely, in a way she didn’t know was possible. An image of his swollen member flashed across her eyelids and she was impressed she was managing to take it.

With every grind of his hips, she felt her core throb. It was a pleasant ache, like the soreness of your jaw after eating too many sweets. And she could feel herself coming undone.

“E-Eve…” Ominis panted, dampening the skin of her neck.

No…just a little longer

She could hear his groans turning softer and his hips stuttering.

And with presumably very little time to discuss it, she forced her hand in between them and quickly ran her fingers over her sensitive and throbbing nub.

The knot in her stomach loosened incredibly quickly, the combination of his girth and her quick little fingers filling her with an untold level of pleasure.

And unlike normally when she reached her climax she couldn’t feel herself clench and tighten.

But he did.

He felt her pulse and tremble around him. Felt her tighten and her back arch and her loud moan that seemed to vibrate through him. She seemed to pull him deeper, an uncontrollably and irregular contraction that consumed him.

And with a guttural rasp, he found his own release, his arm looping around her raised waist and squeezing her tighter.

Whereas, Evelyn did the opposite. Her arms fell limply back to mattress as she felt him empty inside her, the pleasant buzz of her climax once again filling her body.

Ominis clung to the feeling, to her, afraid that it may have all been a dream. It felt like a dream.

The woman he loved, beneath him, wanting him.

His mind spiralled, a clarity running through him and filling him with doubt.

And as usual, as though she were expert it Legilimancy, she felt his swing toward the negative and brought her hands around him. Her fingernails traced delicately down the heaving expanse of his back soothing his buzzing mind.

And he hummed, his body finally relaxing and almost drowning her under his weight.

Evelyn simply laughed, a refreshing and light noise that filled Ominis’ chest with warmth.

He could feel her body calming similar to his, though her heart still raced and her skin was still radiant.

“You’re so beautiful like this, all flushed skin and breathless” he mumbled into her neck, his lips brushing against her collarbone as he spoke, his voice a much lower register than normal.

He rolled up onto his elbow, his fingers unwrapping from her waist and travelling to her face.

He was greeted with the soft smile he associated with her. The face he kept stored for her at all times, only she had a glow about her he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

And she took the opportunity to finish the sentence that started all of this.

“I love you” she whispered, leaning into his palm.

“I love you too”

Masterlist

[acewithobsessions]

Normal people: *actually listening to the characters on screen talk*

Me: THOMAS! IS IN THE BACKGROUND! DO YOU SEE HIM?

[togeqii]

i am so lonely lol.

[sysig]

Fancy fluff and fuzz (Patreon)

[coweye]

The Honda Odyssey

Logan Howlett x Reader | smut | 6k words Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.

I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the adoration he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance.

Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.

If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.

In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.

Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.

So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.

One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.

Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men.  Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.

No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.

In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.

To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.

“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “

“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”

“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.”  Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”

You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.

You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.

“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”

“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.

It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.

Wrong.

You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.

Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.

Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.

Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.

Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.

For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.

Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.

You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since. 

You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.

In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”  

Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.

“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.

Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.

Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.

Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.

You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.

Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.

It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.

Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.

Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.

Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.

That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.

It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?

In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.

You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.  

Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.

Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.

“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.

Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?

“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”

“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.

The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.

 “I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.

Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.

“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”

You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.

Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.

“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.

“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”

“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”

Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.

It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.

You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?

The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.

One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.

All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.  

With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.

“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.

“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.  

Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.

“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.

“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”

“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”

You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.

“He say where he was taking him?”

“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.

“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”

“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”

“Can you do your sniffy thing?”  Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.

“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.

“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.

“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”

“You can smell him from the car?”

“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”

“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.

After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.

“What’s your world like?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“

“What did you just say?”

“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“

“No before that.”

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.

The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.

“What do you mean if?”

“I…”

“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”

“I mean I think they can!”

“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.

“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.

“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”

“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.

“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”

“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.

“No – fuck you.”  Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “

He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together.  “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”

Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.

“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.

“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.

“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.

The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.

“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.

Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda. 

Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.

If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.

You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.

It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.

Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.

Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.

“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.

Yes.

You really do that.

You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.

“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.

“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”

The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.

“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”

Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.

The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.

The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss.  His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.

You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply.  Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.

He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.

Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.

You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.

“You sure you want this Darlin’?”

“Darlin’?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”

Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.

“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core.  “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”

Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”

You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.

“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.

Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.

You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.

Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.

“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”

You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.

“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”

He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.

The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.

You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.

You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.

“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you.  If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.

The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes.  Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.

“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.

You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.

You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.

Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.

“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.  

Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.

Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.

“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.

When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.

“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.

“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.

“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.

“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.

You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.

Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.

The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.

After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.

The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.

“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.

“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.

“Well, well, well.  Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."

Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.

"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone!  Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”

[shotmrmiller]

your superior finding out about the secret praise kink you didn't know had a name because you'd always been called an over achiever, a goody two shoes. never gave anyone any trouble, nose burrowed in a book since you had knobby knees and a library card.

you'd thought it normal that the apples of your cheeks burned when praised after giving your teacher the drawing you'd made for them the night before. that heat spread from the center of your chest up when your first boyfriend/girlfriend whistled at the sight of you outside of uniform. that warmth settles in your belly when you get a pat on the back from your platoon leader firm enough to force the air out of your lungs because you'd disassembled and cleaned a glock with the ease of a professional.

apparently it wasn't.

after weeks of training with the fabled task force, weeks of sharing elbow room with the team, weeks of soaking up the dizzying praise from the captain ("did real good out there, eh? can always count on you." you didn't question the throb betwixt your thighs, taking care of it with a cute little bullet like you've always done since joining the military)

you're confronted by the worst of the lot. ghost catches you in a break room, your back to him, hands clutching a cup of coffee that's more sludge than liquid, its warmth barely seeping through the styrofoam.

his figure fills the doorway, shoulders nearly brushing the frame. your first thought is that his brows aren't twisted together and he lacks that cold, blank look in his eyes so your death isn't in the nearest of futures. the second is that when he's not fully covering his face, the outline of his jaw is quite visible, looking sharp enough to cut.

then he crosses his sculpted arms over his chest, seams straining against the expanse of his muscles, head tipped to the side.

he moves with the keen curiosity of a predator sniffing around a newborn fawn, gaze intense yet inquisitive, assessing your every detail with a menacing interest.

"you ever gonna tell me you've a praise kink, bird?" the question sends a chill through your veins before turning into a fiery rush as it races at twice the normal speed.

praise kink? no. surely not. doesn't everyone like to receive compliments?

"sure. i don't mind gettin' told i've an impressive cock but that's bed talk. you look ready to bend over 'nd show us how slick tha' pretty cunt can get over a rufflin' of hair and a couple of empty words."

that has you positively reeling, fingertips cracking the cup in your hands, pulse on your neck fluttering. you feel a cornered, skittish animal, ready to flee lest your life come to an end in his maws.

but as usual, the cruel man more creature than person, twists the knife he's dug into you with a certain ruthlessness only he can muster.

"so be good for me, eh? love your praise? earn it."

you've always been an over achiever, proven once again by the way you take him to the root in one long, broad stroke with any complaints at the sheer size of him resting firmly behind your clenched teeth.

"tight little thing, spread open over me like you were meant for it. for me." he runs a gloved thumb over your swollen bottom lip. "there's tha' look. drivin' me bloody insane when you gave kyle tha' molten gaze. none o' tha' now, yeah?"

he creeps his ungloved hand down to circle your pearl with the spit-slick pads of his fingers, drawing in a sharp breath when your walls flutter and constrict around his cock at the feel of something other than your toy giving you the relief you need after a hard day's work.

"bloody fuckin' 'ell."

ghost claims a fistful of hair, pulling you closer to him, his breath warming the stinging, throbbing mark he bit onto the delicate skin of your neck. the shuffling of feet right outside the door snap you out of your daze, fingernails sinking into the bulging muscle of his chest but he has none of it.

he uses your hair to direct your focus back onto him and even though he'd only given you a leading tug you felt some strands of your hair come off with a pop.

"easy. can't see your pretty face when i'm fuckin' ya if your lookin' away."

your expression twists into what you hope is bliss when he bucks his hips, your whimper drowning out his groan when he hits on something new.

something you want him to keep hitting.

"exactly like i'd thought."

everything else blurs together after that, and only when you're back in your room using a warm cloth to clean yourself up do you remember the other things he'd rumbled.

(inside o' ya, make you mine-)

(-get 'bout bein' with anyone else-)

(-ll to myself-)

you touch your tender pussy with gentle fingers at what he'd said in the end.

(leave tha' f'me, he swipes your hand away, i'll get ya there, pet.)

if price's compliments take a nose dive off a cliff you don't notice because you're getting your daily fill of them and ghost after dinner every night. kyle keeps them to one word and soap likes to tempt fate as always.

[screampied]

❛ BED CHEM! ❜ t. fushiguro + k. nanami

☆ sum. being sandwiched between two of your co-stars during a séx scene sounds like a fever dream. the real fever dream is finding out who you have better bed chemistry with. the sweet blond who always talks you through it or the smug dark haired one who’s constantly stealing your panties.

wc. 5.9k

warnings. fem! reader, actor au, thréesomes, unprotected, semi-public, they eat you out at the same time, cervix mentions, premature ejac, size difference, dirty talk, pússy drunk men, praise, spít roasting, óral (f! & m! receiving), hair pulling, size kinks, bóob fondling, overstim.

“annnnd action.”

you mentally bite your lip, feeling every nerve through your body convulse from your co-stars touches. toji fushiguro and nanami kento—the most current hottest topic, you had this last scene to shoot for a movie you were the lead in. the scene in question was quite raunchy to say the least, both of them take turns to plant soft chaste kisses down both sides of your neck. both signature scents of their colognes were loud, a musk that forevermore wafts against your nose. your eyes flicker toward the camera every so often, trying to stay in character. this was probably the fifth take—you had a bit of a bad habit of missing your lines so there’d be a few retakes. emphasis on few.

“ken, look at her,” toji murmurs, and a gasp merely slips from you once his parted tongue creeps past his lips and onto your neck. his hand slowly trails toward your thigh and he squeezes it. “such a pretty thing. want more, do ya princess?”

you nod as a response but that’s when nanami’s hand gently cups underneath your chin. gingerly, a thumb ghosts by your bottom lip and he speaks sweetly. “ah, now sweetheart. we talked about that, we need a pretty answer from you, not a nod.”

“i- i want more,” you stammer, and as toji’s scarred hands continue to roam down your body, you suck in a keen sharp breath. the air felt substantially thick, mainly due to how all three of you were acting in a big spacey sauna. your hand grabs toji’s wrist and you slowly guide it down between the valley of your legs. the static of his plump shriveled fingertips brush up between the crevices of your thighs and it nearly makes you break character. “i want you both, please.”

“aw,” toji hums hoarsely, his pursed lips forming into a wry grin.

the more their hands ran down every inch of your body, the more your heart beat raced. its thumping quickened, and your thighs forcibly squeeze themselves together. the dark haired male softly creates circles around your thighs with a single digit before speaking breathlessly. “you want both of us, huh. not jus one? that’s bein’ pretty greedy, doll.”

“toji, she can be greedy if she wants,” nanami coos, and you make direct contact with him. .

the nanami kento, you’ve heard a lot about him. him and toji were both hot favored actors but him. actresses would kill to be in your role, kill to be in your shoes.

nanami kento was as smooth as they come.

suave, a gentleman, and of course, a smooth talker. your eyes gawk down his attire and he’s wearing nothing but casual—his sleeves were sexily rolled up and his usually parted blond hair was slightly ruffled and unkempt - most likely due to the growing humidity of the sauna.

tender brown eyes bore into you before he places a kiss near the twitching corner of your mouth. “relax, sweetheart. you’ll get what you want, promise. just be a good girl. can you do that?”

feeling as if your thighs were stuck together by imaginary adhesive glue, you let off a soft panting whine. “y- yes,” and you gasp, watching as toji’s head creeps lower. he’s being slow on purpose, teasing you—wanting for you to long for more, for him to hurry up.

a few bristles of his hair tickles and pokes against your leg before your chin’s softly being grabbed by nanami again.

“ah ah, eyes on me. don’t worry about him, focus just on me sweetheart,” and the two of you lock eyes. nanami’s dimples poke against the left side of his lips and he’s so pretty, he cups your cheek and you instantly lean into his touch. “good girl, get lost in my eyes.”

your mind’s running at such quick speed—it’s trying to remember the next parts of the script as they continue the foreplay. nothing could really be heard except for nanami’s gruff low voice and the faint whirring inside of the sauna.

the next scene, nanami would lean in for a kiss and toji would eat you out. you remember looking over the filthy script many months ago before you even landed the roll.

as your eyes would skim through every word, the explicit dialogue—the mannerisms they’d perform on you, a school of swarming butterflies would pour inside the pits of your stomach.

and now, it’s finally here.

it’s as if time stood still once nanami starts to lean in, closing the awkward distance between you two. once his lips gently crash onto yours, it’s as if your heart stopped for a minute. tender, passionate, and open-mouthed.

your head slightly tilts as you part your lips wider to give him access. nanami lowly groans in your mouth, tasting your syrupy saliva tangle against his own. “mhm,” and every few seconds, loud echoing smacks would slam against both lips. he tastes minty, but on his tongue you could also taste a bit of alcohol lingering on his breath. it’s sweet, and you wanted more. whilst his tongue’s being shoved down your throat, toji scoffs. he’s propped right up between your legs and you feel his big wide hands spread your thighs more.

a nonplus gasp leaves your lips at his roughly gentle touch — your body can’t help but grind against nanami, wrapping an arm and tossing it over his shoulder. “fuck,” you speak between sultry hot kisses, another one of your hands running down the bare slit part of his exposed chest. there, you’re met with a few curls of blond chest hair. you twirl it around with your finger and he groans in your mouth at your touch. back to toji, he starts slow. he creates sloppy wet licks and kisses that trail all down from your waist until he’s finally near your shorts.

“watch that mouth of yours,” toji utters, hot breath ghosting between your thighs.

he’d get closer and closer, closer until he’s just inches away from your the pretty fabric that sticks against your skin. verdant green eyes peer into the cloth that’s attached to your panties and he hums. “cute,” he rasps, pulling down the hem of your shorts for a quick inside peek. “looks like you remembered to wear panties this time after all. somebody’s learnin’, heh.”

“toji, stop teasing me,” your breath hitches, feeling nanami pull away to kiss near your neck once more. he was so gentle, curling his tongue around that sweet spot buried right near the inside of your neck and it makes you oh so weak.

toji just gives you a sly deadpans at you needy comment, slowly pulling down your denim bedazzled shorts.

with a scoff, he tugs on your panties with his teeth. “nah,” and with the fabric in his mouth, his words were a bit muffled. “dunno what’s the point of wearing these stupid things since ‘m jus gonna steal them again anyway.”

a breath gets lodged in your throat once nanami starts to suck against your neck, his teeth gingerly grazing against your skin. his breath was always so warm, every time it sets against your bare flesh you moan. as your glossy eyes ogle down back at nanami, you huff with a cute frustrated expression. your eyebrows knit and compress together and you merely whine. “just hurry the fuck up,” and your neck starts to lean back a bit. with both men having their hands on you—you weren’t sure how long you’d last.

constantly, you had to keep reminding yourself, it’s just a movie, it’s just another scene. .

or is it?

you’re entrapped inside of your thoughts, fully forgetting that you’re on film. as you’re in a temporary fantasm—you bite your lip before a clammy hand finds its way through toji’s shaggy ravened strands. instantaneously, black tresses entwine between your silvery fingers and you moan. he lays his tongue flat, teasingly lapping near the center part of your panties.

fuck, you’ve read over his parts specifically at least a dozen times and knew what he had to do during this scene but you didn’t expect it to feel this good.

toji’s breath was balmy, slow breaths whirl and fan against your clit that’s just barely being protected by the string of your panties.

nanami’s sloppy kisses trail down toward your chest and oh, you felt like you were floating. “poor baby’s fuckin’ soaked,” toji snickers as a fat thumb drags down your sopping cunt. he’s so quick that you don’t even realized he pulled down your panties—you don’t even know where they went. probably in his pocket, again. you feel a wave of heat flush over you as you can feel his feral gaze stare into your twitching muscle. “look at my girl’s nasty ‘lil pulse.” he hums, and his tongue does one single beginning lick near your folds. you whine, and his cold tongue as cold as ice. it’s a type of feeling you couldn’t put into words.

“toji, don’t hog her. i want a taste too,” nanami says in a gentle voice. speaking of, nanami could say the most nastiest things and it would still end up coming out like a compliment.

“s- shit,” you kiss your teeth, watching both of them with near half-lidded eyes once you see nanami’s head creep down also.

now, you’re being met with a chilling hungry yet feral gaze. you throbbed even more as you’re sprawled all out against the fragile bench of the sauna. tears of perspiration start to bubble against your skin as the heat gets a bit more thicker. it’s humid, and you don’t know if it was the temp of the sauna or them making you feel hot but you wanted more. your eyes meet them again, and you feel yourself getting more aroused once you realize. . they were both down on their knees for you.

to your left—there’s toji, he’s got the must smug expression. already near the left side of his lip, there’s a few droplets of your honeyed slick coating against his mouth. all from a single lick, you felt embarrassed at how wet you were. it was actually in the script that they would use lube to help you but clearly, you didn’t need it in the slightest. toji’s wearing a burgundy tank top that nearly sticks against his hard toned pecs. he’s so toned, a burly beefy body that looks almost chiseled, stoned. he looks like he’s been literally carved and sculptured from top to bottom. your eyes stare at his broad shoulders, his thick pecs, and even how a few of his black chest hairs pokes out from his shirt.

and then to your right, there’s nanami. a thumb of his slowly makes its way down your drooling salivating cunt and he’s almost in awe.

his pink glossy lips press up towards your entrance before he gives it a soft welcoming kiss. you moan at how delicate he was, and the longing tender stare he constantly gave you merely made your knees buckle. as the humidity rises in the sauna, strands of his hair continue to swelter against his forehead with the help of slimy sweat.

“my, my,” he purrs in a low voice, and they’re both right between your thighs. you couldn’t help but feel a palpitating sensation brew up between your legs. “we’ve got ourselves a wet one, toji.”

“yeah,” the dark haired murmurs, and his eyes narrow. but toji wasn’t fond of sharing - not one bit.

with a piqued eye roll, he leans in to lap his tongue against your pussy once more before nanami follows.

you release a sweet elongated moan you were holding in for the longest - but you remembered you had to be dramatic for the scene — fake.

that was kind of hard considering the blatant fact that yhey were actually making you feel good. but alas, you lazily slouch back against the wooden bench, letting off your best exaggerated moan.

nanami and toji both look at you at the same time and toji refrains himself from bursting out laughing. staying in character, he clears his throat, spanking your cunt. you moan, and your grip against his hair becomes more rough. he feels you yanks forward with a solid tug, grunting, and that’s when you feel nanami’s soft tongue present itself too.

slow, his tongue slowly runs itself against your pulsing clit and your eyes gradually roll themselves back. it’s now to where they’re both lapping up your dripping taste at the exact same time—both sloppy tongues flicking and slithering against your cunt oh, and you were an entire mess. it’s as if they were competing against each other. as they both bury their heads between your thighs, you start to shake, dragging their heads back and forth into your sopping pussy.

with your toes curling and your chest heaving, you mewl out a sweet whine. “oh my g-god,” your voice squeaks out, swallowing your own sheer arousing embarrassment.

their breaths collide against each other and land right on your pussy. so pretty, nanami’s eyes were closed whilst toji’s were wide open. he’s giving you a smug cheeky grin the entire time, using a thumb to occasionally glissade down against your twitching pussy. “damn, taste so sweet,” toji grunts, and you can hear the salacious timbre in his voice. a voice so deep that your thighs vibrate together. fuck, your hands end up delving through each of their strands of hair, tightly pulling them closer towards your pulsating heat.

both hairs curl within your fingers before you pull their faces even closer against your crying cunt, almost suffocating them. “mhm,” toji’s lips nearly glue against your pasty folds.

nanami’s tongue romantically swirls itself around until it reaches near your sweet nub.

that spot - your brain haphazardly haywires and short circuits right away and your knees almost collapse. “fuck, f- fuck ‘ken.” you gasp, dragging his head up. once you do, you’re met with a sleazy smile—he’s pussy drunk. it takes you a minute to realize maybe he’s not being in character anymore. nanami’s dimple still prods against both sides of his cheeks before he leans down, spitting right against your cunt.

“go on, ‘toj. lick it up since you wanna be greedy,” nanami playfully titters, running a hand through his hair just so he could touch your fingers.

toji’s shooting vexed daggers toward the blond before he’s almost nose deep against your pussy.

once he’s actually nose deep, he sniffs your cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right up. he does it all while staring at you too. “hmph,” he grouses, his long tongue moving toward nanami’s area, now slurping up nanami’s own sheeny trickling saliva.

you couldn’t lie, watching the entire risqué scene of both men fighting over eating you out right before you, right between your legs made you throb even more.

toji’s raven arched brows tweak inward before a hand of his pries your left thigh further apart. “don’t fuckin’ tell me what ‘ta do.”

nanami chuckles, pressing kisses near the warm crevices of your thighs. fawn sparkling irises flicker toward you before he whispers. “you doin’ okay, sweetheart. ‘s alright?”

“y- yeah,” your voice grows more shaky as toji continues. as if it had a mind of its own, a hand of yours tugs on nanami’s hair, guiding his head back toward between your thighs. nanami shakes his head with a cunning smile, going back to lapping at your tasty treat stored right between your plush thighs. swallowing a circled lump that resides at the back of your throat, your legs start to jolt. “f- fuuuuck,” your voice strains, and toji and nanami’s just making out with your pussy.

you watch the entire time—occasionally glancing up at the large propped up canon camera that’s a few feet away from you. oh right, it’s just a scene.

you were practically using your bottom lip as chewing gum with how they were vigorously eating out your starved cunt as if it was their last meal. they both used their crimpy long tongues to create such filthy circles and shapes on and around your pussy, maneuvering their fingers inside your cunt and all.

your breath starts to grow more and more irregular — changing its speed to being a lot more quicker the more they remain sat between your thighs.

“she’s gettin’ close,” toji murmurs between sloshes of smacks with his lips. each lewd ‘pop’ he makes with his lips leaves you dizzy and begging for more. the edge of his scar that runs down the right side of his mouth smears and rubs all up against your clit and it feels so good. it tickles, but in a more raunchy kind of way.

with nanami occasionally blowing and whistling against your folds, you were surely about to lose it. your mind’s spiraling—and as your fingers remain tangled in both ruffled strands and curls of hair, their chins start to glimmer and stream down with your candied slick. “look at me, girl.” toji pats your cunt, although it’s more of a wet slap. you whimper, moist doused droplets coming from your own pussy wetting his palm right away.

your eyes meet toji and the laps of his tongue grow faster. he’s munching against your pussy, swerving his head from back and forth before he grunts, playfully biting down on your clit. not hard, but enough to where it makes you let off a cute shriek. “cum, cum on my tongue, baby.”

“ah, i think you mean cum on mine,” nanami corrects him, giving your sensitive twitching clitoral hood a single kiss.

your eyes go back and forth between the two of them, but you can’t even reply because within seconds, you’re cumming, hard.

your mouth slightly drops whilst your jaw dramatically hangs open—pathetically dangling open as they’re still lapping you clean. both scorching hot tips of your ears were stuffed with imaginary fuzz. you couldn’t hear for a few long seconds—not to mention, your body was being invaded by a plethora of tingles that shot through your body.

“f-fuuuckk,” you whine, and you’re uncontrollably shaking. it’s a rush, a crazed rush that you do don’t want to stop. as you’re spasming, you glance down at the two of them.

“mphm,” toji’s still slurping at your dewy slick juices that stream from you before nanami’s tongue gets tangled with his. he blinks thrice, and their lips abruptly meet. panting and heaving, you watch—not really remembering if that was on script but neither exactly pulls away.

they’re focusing their sloppy slick tongues on your spasming convulsing cunt while mashing glossed lips together. you throbbed at the lewd sight of your two co-stars, seeing toji grow flustered and nanami being a bit more dominant.

that was rare, as stoic as of a man that he was, you’d last expect to see toji this way. you moan, still felling their sloshing wet tongues twirl around the insides of your sobbing pussy all whilst they’re making out. at contact, they’re both tasting nothing but you on their tongues the entire time, a concoction of saliva entangles with each other as they relish in savoring your sweet taste on their tastebuds.

“maybe you’re the one who needed attention,” nanami gradually pulls away, stands of shimmery saliva dragging away from both pursed lips.

“tch. shut up,” toji grumbles, and he focuses back toward you. he slides a tongue across and over crooked his lips.

the next thing you knew—you were being lifted up, tossed right over toji’s burly shoulder.

you gasp, feeling nanami’s gentle eyes bore into your curves before he positions you, using a single hand to spread your shivering thighs apart. you were still a bit shaky and sensitive from your most recent release—your teeth still shattered and saw how their jaws locked, especially toji’s.

you felt every nerve jolt through your body, coursing through your veins.

but once the actual scene came, you were screwed.

it wasn’t fake anymore, your orgasms and moans were very much real now. and that was perfect, you were perfect, because behind the lens—it not only felt real but it looked real too.

your pretty expressions, your flat pink tongue lolling out of your mouth and the way you’re panting. toji’s fucking you from behind and he’s just mean. hard thorough strokes that makes his hips snap right into you, crash into you at full speed to where he’s creating a fatal collision.

“ah, open,” nanami whispers, and your eyelids that were practically droopy glance up. you’re met with nanami. the blond’s got a hand resting on top of the crown of your head before he taps a thumb against your cheek. “let me see that pretty mouth some more, my love,” and you lean into his touch. toji’s hips however were so rude—your sweet incoherent babbles soon starts to grow a bit more quavery due to how rickety he made your body. the olden wood of the sauna nearly splits and you can hear the blaring cracks after each rocky thrust. your lips part open and your eyes go straight toward his cock. his boxers were halfway on with the cerulean blue hem of it just hanging and protecting his sharp carvend v-line.

so pretty, you just wanted to run your tongue up and down and across every line and spot that decorates his soft skin.

“ngh, a-atta girl,” the blond’s brows reluctantly twist together, watching your warm mouth slowly take him in fully.

god, your eyes were so mesmerizing to look at. he delicately cups underneath your chin, feeling the minuscule amounts of saliva drip from your lips. your jaw remains to hang open, dangling like an earring—and that’s when he’s slowly inching himself inside your tight warm throat.

immediately, you see a bit of his blond curly pubes through your blurred peripherals. nanami’s abs clench and tighten at the feeling of your hot mouth and he groans. “my good . . girl, ugh. pretty girl with an even prettier throat.”

toji’s still propped up behind you, two broad hands attached to your waist—practically glued on. you whine, your sweet noises becoming muffled as his hips plummet into you raw.

you feel your toes curl up within each sloppy degrading thrust he makes. as you’re taking nanami’s cock, you swirl your tongue around his mushroom tip that’s got a faint splash of pink painting near the very top. he’s bittersweet, your lashes flutter as your pretty plump lips envelope around his hefty length. a single prodding vein that runs down his cock twitches inside of your mouth and you moan at the feeling.

“fuck,” toji hisses, feeling your gummy insides squeeze and clamp around him. you’ve got your back arched as your hands cling onto the sauna’s ligneous bench.

the furniture’s woody and it continuously tottering by the second—loudly creaking as his pivotal strokes deepen. every few seconds, he’d swat a palm against your ass just to hear your cute whimpers. toji likes to gawk at the recoil, the way your ass cheek jolts back against his hand from the spank, it’s cute.

the concise twinges that follow from his hand makes your moans get louder, reverberating through the thin tapered walls of the sauna.

raspy pants leave from toji’s gruff vocal chords before his callous fingertips dig deep into the fat of your hips. his foot’s tapping against the floor as his head slightly cocks itself back. “mhm, shit. such a nasty girl, gettin’ stuffed from front ‘ta back. ‘s that what you really wanted, hm?”

since your mouth was currently occupied with nanami’s thick inches—you nod while starting to feel his bulbous tip repeatedly thwack back against the roof of your mouth. your eyes squeeze shut for a second as you’re twirling your tongue around his veiny length. steadily, nanami’s cock grows inside your mouth and you happily keep it warm. each twitching vein that runs down his shaft, you flick your tongue against it just to hear him moan out your name. you’re so aroused that you try to sneak a hand down between your trembly thighs, only to be swatted away by toji’s hand. you whine, a pout forming against your swollen lips as his pace quickens.

“no touchin’ my pussy,” he mumbles, and you felt yourself twitch. now that wasn’t in the script, but the more he smacked your cunt, the more you felt extra butterflies stir inside your stomach.

toji’s got such a good angle on you—he’s ferocious, ravaging through your pasty walls, feeling your sloppy slick run all down his cock.

your ass almost glues against his pelvis, and that’s when he leans right up against you. skin against skin, big hands reach near your chest, toying with your bouncy neglected tits. you moan, feeling his thumbs curl and squeeze against your perky nipples that poke through the blouse of your shirt. “such a pretty rack, yeah,” he lowly whispers, licking near your neck. his voice was so low up against your ear. so low, the playfulness in his voice was almost enough to make you cream on his cock right then. toji’s base was very full, and he’s now just smacking against your bare ass with. a few seconds later, he groans, feeling the brief pangs of electricity ripple near the undersides of his meaty calves. “ugh, god such a pretty view like this though. ‘ken fuckin’ wishes he had my spot.”

“oh, don’t flatter yourself, toji,” the blond hums, though as he’s speaking, you could tell he’s flustered.

your tongue has nanami stammering a bit, he’s patting your head, strumming a thumb against your pursed lips. once he meets your gaze, his breath nearly gets stolen away. “you’re doin’ so good, sweetheart. makin’ me feel so good,” and you watch his adam’s apple bobble. his praise warmed something in your heart.

it was something about being degraded from behind and praised near the front.

toji’s reeling your ass further back into his hips with ease whilst you’re focusing your eyes strictly on nanami. nanami’s heart races at the sight of you and now, he’s wondering if this really is just a scene anymore.

he found himself getting lost in your eyes—maybe it was a bit unprofessional, but you’ve had the gaze of an ethereal galaxy. the way your pupils would doe up and dilate as your head goes up and down against his length, he wanted more of you.

“that’s it,” he grunts, running a hand through his matted blond strands. nanami nearly loses his balance once your sucking turns into slurping. you’re a mess, your entire chin being damp because of your own saliva. he wipes some of it up with his thumb, only to taste it himself and he moans. your head continuing to bobble and he’s about to break, no, he is breaking. “slobber a- all on it, don’t be shy pretty girl. ‘s okay to be my messy girl. there we go.”

“tch.” toji’s eyes roll, and he’s still striking into you. your cunt was clingy, gripping around him tightly like a vice. the feeling makes his jaw tighten whilst your stomach seizes in rapture. he’s so deep, your limbs felt so flimsy as your pathetic breaths start to get more strained and breathy.

toji’s grip was angry, it’s french kissing right up against your cervix and you can’t help but let off a squeal. right there, he knows that’s your sweet spot and once he suddenly realizes it, his rude thrusts become purely maddened.

more souse streams of saliva drips down your chin as you’re slathering the entirety of nanami’s cock with your own filthy viscid spit. you look so pretty, cock drunk and on the verge of finishing yet again.

toji fucks like a madman—each stroke felt like your entire body was gonna snap in half. his body’s hovering over you and his warm completely radiates against your own. he’s so close that he’s merely humping you, sloppy greedy strokes becoming more feral as the seconds pass. his tip massaged your walls through and through, and your eyes were rolling way back until you saw nothing but pearly white at the back of your sockets.

by this point, this entire scene didn’t feel like you were filming for a movie anymore. it slipped your mind, you forgot this was literally your job.

“s- sweetheart, ‘m gonna cum,” a husky voice interrupts your thoughts, and your tongue still toys with his leaky slit. a hand of yours wraps around his full base, stroking him with a few good solid pumps and he’s so close. your touch made him shudder, the kind of shudder where he’s just addictive for more.

more of you.

“heh, that’s right. milk the pretty boy, babygirl. he’s all flustered because of y’er throat. that’s rich,” toji snickers, a rough cackle leaving his lips as his eyes meets his abashed co-star.

it was true, nanami was entirely flustered—he’s even avoiding eye contact now and sweating pinballs. toji’s hands were now sweating from the palms and he pulls your hips continuously back into him, each slam becoming more merciless.

but fuck, his cock was just insanely thick — it expanded through your walls as your cunt merrily constricts around his length.

it slides in and out, the squelches that your cunt makes because of it leaves you craving for more. your sopping wet, and he’s only making it ten times worse nanami narrows his eyes at toji’s teasing, lightly pulling your head down just a bit more to keep your attention back towards him. “hah, don’t listen to him, pretty. eyes on me, let me see that gorgeous face ‘m about to p-paint, fuck.”

nanami’s blushing tip reddens, and once he finally cums—it’s so much. it shoots out in stringy milky ropes, velvety and all.

it paints right onto your flat tongue and your eyes snap shut for two seconds at the bittersweet taste. your lips felt tepid, still having your mouth wrap around his cock as his dick now becomes soft and flaccid. “god,” he whines, multiple metallic fingers of his delving in your scalp.

nanami’s so pretty after he finishes, he’s got somewhat of a feverish glow to him and you see his veins pop out through each of his bulky muscles. it shows right through his shirt he wore, which was close enough to being see through.

“take it, swallow it f’ me sweetheart,” and he cups your chin, removing his dick from your dampened lips. his eyes were just as droopy as yours and he’s heavily panting. “ah, can you do that?”

with your cheeks all puffed up and stored full of cum, you’re completely dimwitted. you give him a nod, swallowing the hot seed before taking a second to breath. nanami doesn’t waste any time and he leans in, pulling you into a kiss. “i want a taste of myself too.” he murmurs breathlessly between kisses. as his head lowers to your level, you moan at the feeling of his lips pressing onto yours. it’s passionate, his tongue intertwines with your own and he then roves the tip of his tongue near the crevice of your mouth. there, he tastes a few remnants of his cum and it makes him groan.

toji’s still plowing into your sopping cunt that’s fully drenching down on him before he quips.

“hn. freaks,” and literally seconds after that, his cockiness fades away because he’s now cumming too. it’s quick, it hits him at full force like a speed of a semi-truck. toji’s ramming his cock up against that sweet spongey texture that’s making you whimper before he finishes himself. the build up was practically non existent. it was just sloppy, the hormone rush drives him insane and now he’s the one that’s short-circuiting. “oh s- shit,” he growls, feeling his dick starting to tighten and shrivel up whilst deeply buried inside of you. your grip was just so wet, it makes him suck his teeth in elation at how dripping wet you were.

from the waist down, he feels numb and his hips start to slow. it’s a buzz that even spreads toward his spine and he gruffs, spanking against your ass. “ngh, pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous,” his voice falters, it’s husky low pitch turning more high. it’s cute, and there’s a faint pout growing on toji’s lips.

nanami looks up at him with a flustered expression. “aw, too much for you toji?”

“shut up,” he groans, still feeling the after effects. toji came a lot too, masses of creamy hot cum fills up inside of you before it spurts toward your womb.

your thighs were on its final hinges as you were still arched and hunched over, desperate to see what you looked like from behind.

you were probably a mess, a mess with cum dribbling out of your fluttering hole. a saturated translucent ring forms around his base as he stops his thrusts completely, preparing to pull out. for once, hes speechless—at least for a few seconds anyway. “fuck me,” he groans, and his cock too, was now flaccid and idle.

your fingers run down towards your puffy clit to feel for yourself and oh, it’s even more stuffed than you even imagined.

sappy runny amounts trickle down your cunt, past your swollen lips and onto the sauna’s floor. you moan, squeezing two fingers inside to toy with yourself some more but that’s right when nanami swiftly grabs your wrist.

“ah, no sweetheart. no touching what’s ours,” he whispers, a thumb softly caressing near your palm. he sees the pout that mangles against your lips and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “i’ll think about letting you touch her after we shower.”

“and who says it’s up to you,” toji rolls his eyes, his voice still a bit shaky. he reaches near the glass cabinet for a dry towel before wrapping it around his slim waist. “i mean, i wouldn’t let her touch herself either but still.”

“but—”

“there there,” nanami shushes you, bringing a soft kiss to your lips. your face softens as you return the gesture, and you then gasp once he toji lifts you up. nanami wraps a towel around his waist also, and toji creeps up beside him. cool air wafts against your skin at the sudden movements as he then opens the glass sauna door. “c’mon, let’s at least shower on it.”

as you’re slung over toji’s broad shoulder, your eyes were met with the floor. all of you walk out of the scene set and toji’s big hand squeezes near your ass. “wonder if she can take us both at the same time.”

“she’s a good girl, i think she can,” nanami kisses your forehead as toji walks with you. “right, princess?”

you still felt hot all over your body, but you nod, wrapping your arms around toji’s neck. “y- yeah,” and your nose buries inside the depths of his collarbone. his strong brawny cologne scent again, you’re hit with it face first from each whiff. “i can take you both.”

“um excuse me? this isn’t in the fucking script!”

nanami and toji both glance at the director who’s got a vein popping out of his forehead. toji snickers and nanami grows sheepish.

“eh. it is now,” toji shrugs, and he gives your ass a teasing smack. “c’mon, doll,” and he snickers, turning his head to whisper to you. “we aren’t finished with ya just yet, heh,” and toji glances at the director, giving your ass a spank as you’re still thrown over his shoulder. “cut.”

[ervotica]

please don’t go, i love you so

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey

note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!

hunger games masterlist

Coriolanus is possessive.

It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.

It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.

It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.

He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.

There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.

You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”

His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.

“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.

He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.

“Nothing. I have you.”

“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”

He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.

“Coryo,” you pant.

“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.

“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.

You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”

The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.

“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”

“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”

“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.

“Wanna show me just where you belong?”