#we have so much to cover and so much friction to create

[soartfullydone]

Jumbo OC Asks! Riven - 🍊⭐🍐💧; Celeste - 🍒🔥💙🌸

[touches your face] thank you

Riven

🍊 What is your OC’s favourite meal? Snack? Dessert? Drink? Any reasons behind this besides liking how it tastes?

I couldn't name her favorite meal to save my life, probably because Riven prefers variety. So she's become very enamored of the dinner-breakfast hodgepodge she and her da make for the pair of them and Krelyss. She's been trying many new dishes to accommodate Krelyss' tastes (who knew mushrooms could be used in so many ways?) and getting to know some of her lost culture in the process. Even when the cooking attempt doesn't pan out, she enjoys the company above everything. Her home life has never been better. For snacks, she prefers most fruits. Citrus and apples and drupes. Dessert is where she likes to get fancy. Tarts, eclairs, anything with a meringue or mousse. Right now, she's in love with a blackberry mousse, served with gold flakes and mint. As for drink, well, it matters more who she's drinking with than what she drinks. Ale, rum, water, doesn't really matter, but whenever she does order some type of ale, it's because of all the warm memories and conversations she's shared with Delethil—and now also with Eravin and the party during their drinking games. There's nostalgia and comfort in the drink rather than a deep love for the taste.

⭐ What is your OC afraid of? Any crippling phobias or some such? How do they act when scared and what helps them calm down? Does anyone ever find your OC scary? Why?

For a long time, Riven was deeply wary of all the things her da impressed upon her to be wary of: orcs, necromancers, duergar, the undead, and drow. But those fears were so distant and well outside the border. She was more afraid of Lunhaven becoming a cage for her, of being trapped into responsibilities she didn't want by people who neither liked nor respected her. She was afraid that her loneliness would kill her (thanks Britney). Ironically, the way she often dealt with this was to pick fights with her da before running off to be alone somewhere. As Del entered the picture, she gained someone to vent back and forth with and who made her feel valued, but she never left behind her tendencies to run and self-isolate. Now, she's afraid of new things. Of the wrong people discovering she's a glamoured half-drow. Of something terrible happening to Krelyss. Of ruining the relationships she's gained. Of the divide between Del and her friends growing so much that she can no longer bridge it, no longer allow the two halves of herself to intersect. Of one day becoming a mother and being, not only terrible at it, but also unable to protect and connect with her bairn when the glamour prevents her from looking like them. Would they think she was ashamed of them? Would glamouring them to protect them prove that thought right? She's getting better, though, about not running away and isolating herself. She's learning to trust the friends she has and that they won't eventually betray her or throw her away. She's not doing great at it. She's still taking on too much to prove her worth when she doesn't need to. But she's working through unlearning a lot of past behaviors and beliefs. There's still a long way to go, though. As much as people, in Aeranth especially, would find her drow form intimidating, Riven as she is isn't intimidating at all, even when she tries to be lol. But that's okay for a rogue. As frustrating as it is to be constantly underestimated, it's deeply satisfying when she sneaks someone to death with her 10,000 knives attack.

🍐 What is your OC’s mentality? Are they overall positive? Negative? A bit of both? Describe their thought patterns and reasoning behind their choice making!

Riven performs positivity a lot, both to make herself feel better but also because she's desperate for people to like her. But inwardly, she has a bit of a dark humor to her, a bit of a resigned mindset about the way things are—and also a renewed sense of idealism for the way things could be. Her thoughts have recently taken a turn toward being more genuinely positive, but her adolescence and early adulthood was, well. Let's just say she had dreams but she didn't have a lot of hope. There's a vein of sadness that runs deep within her. Because of that, Riven's never had much of a plan. She believed her life would be decided for her regardless of what she attempted. But never being anchored to any one goal made her quick and adaptable, which led to her picking up the rogue arts so easily. It was in her wheelhouse and it was a small way to rebel. Del shared many of these qualities with her, part of why they took to each other so quickly, but Riven is the more openly impulsive of the two. She doesn't think things through sometimes, saying the first thing that comes to mind, and she puts her foot in her mouth often. It's only recently that she's learned to act strategically, and only because she earnestly cares. Ricocheting constantly between doing the honorable thing and doing the cutthroat thing, this one. Whatever feels right.

💧 What is the earliest memory your OC can recall? Do they know what their first words were or remember where they took their first steps? Do they have any mementos of their childhood they’ve kept such as a stuffed toy or tiny baby clothes?

She has no recollection of her first year in the Underdark, of Avenzi, Krelyss, her da's mad flight to freedom, almost dying to fucking pollen, none of that. I think the earliest memories she can manage are cloudy ones a few years after. Erosen carrying her while she was small enough and he strong enough to do so. So many of the estate staff having accents like her and talking to her in their dialect. Playing with dirt in the courtyard because she was "gardening." Her da reading to her. Part of why her relationship with her da growing colder and more distant hurt so much was because she could remember when it wasn't like that between them. She likely has some of her childhood dresses shoved in the dark recesses of her closet, the tulle awfully stiff, the velvet faded. All that costume jewelry either got broken, lost, or tarnished. I know for a fact Erosen still has her favorite children's book he read to her in his personal study.

Celeste

🍒 What kind of things do they expect from their relationships? Does this differ between platonic relationships and romantic ones? Is your OC “demanding” or a door mat? What kinds of things do people expect from them in a relationship?

The primary word that comes to mind is meaning. If a relationship doesn't hold meaning for her, Celeste is quick to dismiss it. She also expects relationships to inevitably end one way or another. There's no great mourning for her about this. It's just a fact of life and doesn't prevent her from pursuing new relationships. You can get plenty of use out of people between now and whenever that end is. That being said, Celeste vastly, shall we say, trusts and prefers platonic relationships over romantic ones. A lover might die for you, but a true ally would defend and kill for you. She had her fun and frivolity when she was younger, but longevity isn't built on fun and frivolity. You have to be able to make hard choices and sacrifice to get what you want. Can you pick up that she is incredibly demanding? And why shouldn't she be? Much is demanded of her, after all. What people expect from her depends. Enemies would declare her a snake and expect her to act accordingly. Those under the protection of her House know that protection isn't offered freely, but nor is it offered duplicitously. Her family knows she is exacting and cold, but she acknowledges talent and rewards good work done in service of the family accordingly. (Oh, but, a certain member doesn't agree and believes she's the root of every unhappiness in his life.) It's not all backstabbing and assassinations in Twalan. Loyalty can and does exist. In fact, Celeste has been in a Very Dedicated Relationship since she was nineteen years old :3 Of course, now Celeste is not in Twalan. She's in limbo with a bunch of capable yet sentimental eccentrics she's not expecting much out of outside their shared desire for resolution. She does not expect them to take on her problems and currently believes whatever issues the rest of the party has is their private affair. She doesn't much care anymore what others expect of her here. If people want to see her as just a frail old woman, it's their funeral—or it would be, if death mattered here.

🔥 Give us a list of general likes and dislikes, such as colours, textures, music, weather and other stuff!

Celeste likes order and tidiness. Distractions and amusements. Power and safety. Loyalty and comfort. She dislikes ambiguity and not knowing where the threat lies. She hates anything that changes masters like one changes their small-clothes. She's also not loving the way magic seems to be shifting away from the arcane toward the technological. Makes her feel obsolete and other things we won't self-analyze right now <3 As for colors, well, black, wine red, gold, royal blue, plum purple. She'd look great in white, too, but those days are behind her, I fear. She enjoys velvets, suedes, silks, and leathers. Feathers, too, but practicality must come first for now. As for music, she has a classical ear and vastly prefers beautiful, sweeping, even tragic stringed compositions over whatever noise the kids are listening to these days. She misses operas in her reserved box. What she never thought she'd miss was the sea breeze misting the air and the salt in her nose. So easy to take for granted! She'd settle for freshwater rain at this point.

💙 What did your OC want to be when they grew up and why? Did they have any lifelong dreams or ambitions they never got to work on or are they currently working to achieve this dream? Has their life taken a very unexpected turn and put all these plans on hold for a while or have they given up on any dreams?

She wanted to not be murdered before she turned twenty. She wanted to matter. She wanted to be able to hurt others before they hurt her instead of the other way around. She wanted power, and security and safety in that power. She wanted to build something that would be sustainable without her. She did just that and was satisfied—until very recently. I think we can call the Worst Vacation Ever one hell of an unexpected turn, but it wasn't Celeste's first. There's a reason the party met her outside of Twalan, her birthplace and stomping ground, and there's a reason she hasn't flaunted her warlock status nor openly stated her family name. Leaving limbo completely out of it, Celeste feels more in the dark and unfulfilled than she's ever been. If it weren't for the sheer anger and indignity of it all, she would wonder why she should even care, about anything.

🌸 What does your OC’s voice sound like? Their laugh? Are they good at singing? Do they have an accent?

Celeste's voice has changed over the years. Now, it sounds lower, more throaty. She speaks with a bored drawl because she either IS bored or amused (it's also the upper-class snootiness coming out). Her laughter is restrained, haughty, condescending, pitying, or concealing. She might occasionally hum but doesn't sing. I don't think she experiences enough joy to either laugh genuinely or sing from the heart. Her accent is Twalanian nobility through and through, but there's something practiced about it, almost textbook.

[monstersflashlight]

Pavlovian response (Day 1/8 of 10k followers event)

Werewolf x fem!reader || dub-com, exhibitionism, public sex, knotting

It starts like a joke, but when it starts working… You keep doing it. You’ve been training him for what feels like forever but had only been a couple weeks. Every time you are excited and a bit horny, you ring the bell. With just a tiny ring, he’s ready and leaking, ready to fuck you senseless.

And it’s fun. For both of you.

Until you ring the bell one day by accident, and he gets to you with a raging hard on and mouth salivating already, almost feral. You laugh about it, and he looks at you confused and ready to fuck, but you just chuckle and tell him to calm down. He doesn’t like that, but you keep going through your day. After a while you start to give it a good though, and the more you think about it, the more you want to test it.

So you start doing every once in a while, alternating it with times you actually have sex with him. And it works every single time. You accidentally trained your werewolf husband into one of Pavlov’s dogs, they irony is not lost on you as you chuckle at the thought. Maybe that’s a bit offensive to werewolves, but so funny you can’t stop from giggling every time you ring the bell.

But then it goes south.

You are going to tease him like any other day, but you don’t look at the moon calendar before doing it. Teasing your werewolf husband any day is dangerous, but close to the full moon is almost suicidal. But you are dumb enough to not realize, to do it before thinking twice about it. You ring the bell and go outside, on your way to the pack meeting.

You don’t hear him approach, you don’t feel his heat, you don’t realize he’s behind you until his chest is covering your back and you are being pushed to the ground and he starts grinding his monstrous hard on against the seam of your clothed pussy.

You moan without having time to stop it, and he growls. That shouldn’t make you as wet as it does, but as soon as you hear him you are soaking your panties and wanting to rock back into his dick. You try to break free of him, but you feel his clawed hands against your back, pushing you to the ground as he pushes your ass up. You are in complete submission as he manhandles you until you are panting on the ground and your pants and panties are wet with his precum. He’s leaking so much you can hear it against your clothes.

“We- The pack… The pack-meeting,” you get out as he keeps grinding against your center, making your brain fuzzy and your body thrum with anticipation.

“You think it’s funny?” He growls, his voice so low and dangerous that you had to swallow a whimper. “You think you’d get away with training me into your good pet?” You want to laugh, to cry, you are not sure. But his dick is pressing your clothes against your clit and creating the most amazing friction, driving you so insane.

“I- I’m sorry,” you apologize, your voice breathy and needy, completely messed up after the constant grinding of his dick against your center.

He laughs cruelly, his body cracking behind you. “No, you are not. You love being treated roughly, you love when I fuck you senseless… And now, you are going to get every little bit of that.” You feel him change before you feel his claws prickling at your sides. His body turning so much bigger, so much stronger. You are swallowed by the size of him, so big and feral.

“He- Here?” You ask, trying to focus on the fact that you were outside, close to the pack-meeting point. Closer to all your friends. And you were about to get fucked.

“Yes.” He growls against your ear, his fangs too big to fit his mouth, saliva dripping down your neck as he holds you down and tears your clothes away. Just like that you are naked against the floor and his dick is rubbing against your soaked entrance.

“Somebody could see!” You exclaim, a bit alarmed. He growls against your ear. You groan, his feral nature turning you on more than anything ever could. “They- they are going to see!” You repeat, but he’s too far gone for that. Too far gone to care about anybody seeing you.

“Let them,” he growls. His dick pushes inside of you as you cry out.

He fucks you like a piston, fucking in and out of your pussy like he’s the owner of it, of you. And you can’t stop the ah ah ah you are letting out every time the tip of his dick hits your happy place.

When everyone starts arriving, you want to melt into the ground, but also melt into him. The pleasure is so intense and it’s only heightened by the eyes on you. You are exposed, your pussy being fucked in front of everyone as you groan and moan uncontrollably. He fucks you ferally, no control, no finesse, no caress at all about your well-being, just using you as his full moon toy.

And everyone is watching.

You want to be embarrassed, you want to be mad at him, but in reality you are just hot all over seeing everyone looking at you as you get fucked. Most of them say nothing, some of them are rubbing themselves through their clothes. And you can’t stop the broken groan escaping your mouth at the sight.

You come. Just like that, with everyone watching how much of a slut you are for him. Everyone watching as you get fucked without an inch out of your life. When he starts expanding inside of you, you scream. He growls and bites the back of your neck, making you submit completely to him as his knot fills you. You cry out again, whimpering as he grinds his hips against your pussy. Someone laughs at your pathetic attempt of moving, and your face is hot with embarrassment.

He fills you to the brim, and by the time his dick deflates, there’s an orgy going around you, some jerking off, some fucking, everyone is in some kind of nakedness. He pulls out and howls, enticing a bunch of responses from the rest of the pack. He looks at your abused pussy, leaking and stretched and licks you clean with his long and raspy tongue, so inhuman in his transformed form. You groan and come again, crying out as everyone around you cheers.

He picks you up and walks away. “Never thought she was such a slut…” Someone says as your werewolf husband carries you away, his tail wiggling behind him as he takes you to his den, to your house, to keep fucking you until he’s satisfied.

[sturnioloszn]

CHERRY - M.S

summary; you finally decide to lose your virginity to your boyfriend, and he pops your cherry.

warnings; smut, losing virginity, pet names (nothing crazy people, just baby and stuff), tit sucking, fingering, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it up, ho).

a/n; i'm writing this at 2am so let's not expect shakespeare up in this bitch. anywho, if you have any suggestions/recommendations for other content, then lmk!

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

'Hey baby, just finished filming'

'I'm driving to urs rn'

Matt's texts came up on my phone, and I instantly got a spark of excitement. We haven't been able to see each other often because he's been busy with filming, and I've been busy with work.

I get up from my bed and decide to squeeze in a quick shower before he comes. Walking back into my bedroom with a towel wrapped around my body, I picked one of Matt's shirts, which he left the last time he was over, and a black, lacey thong.

Just as I was about to throw my hair up in a bun, I heard a knock at my door. I pranced to the front door and swung it open.

"Hiiiii," I squeal lunging into his chest for a hug, the smell of his cologne taking over my senses. God, he smelled so good; Matt always smells amazing.

"Hi, baby," He replies, engulfing me in the hug completely. He brings his hand up to cradle my head and softly moves his thumb back and forth.

"I've missed you," I muffle into his chest. We haven't seen each other in almost two weeks, which was an insanely long time considering we live ten minutes from each other.

We eventually make it from the front door, and we are lying on my bed watching Spongebob. But I can't concentrate on the cartoon with Matt so close to me.

I know we've been dating for over a year, but I still get so nervous around him. He's my first real boyfriend, and of course, he looks like he was sculpted by God himself. I really don't know what I did to get so lucky.

I turn my head to look at him, and he's concentrated on the tv. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed from how focused he was on the episode, and his jawline was covered in stubble.

The more I looked at him, the bigger the heat between my legs grew. I subconsciously pressed my thighs together to create some kind of friction, but it didn't help at all.

At that moment I decided that I was ready. I was ready to give myself to him completely. I was ready for him to make me his in every way possible.

"Matt," I whispered.

My words are so quiet that I wasn't even sure if Matt had heard me. I repeat myself, and he turns his head to make eye contact with me.

"I'm ready, Matt," I say shyly.

I don't know how he was going to react. I know Matt has had a girlfriend before me and that he lost his virginity to her, so this might not be a big deal for him, but for me, it was huge.

The furthest me and Matt have ever gone is some heated-makeout touching. We've never seen each other below the waist, so this was definitely a big step for me.

"Ready for what, my love?" He asks, with genuine confusion in his tone.

"To lose my virginity," I'm so embarrassed admitting this, but he doesn't seem to be disturbed one bit. Actually, he seems surprised.

"Baby, we don't have to do anything, you know that, right?" He says, trying to reassure me, but I know what I want.

"I know, I want to," I say, my confidence growing. I crawl over to him and throw one of my legs over his lap so that I'm now straddling him.

He brings his tongue out to wet his lips before analysing my face for anything other than certainty. He then moves his hands to my hips, resting them there softly.

"I love you so much..." He speaks carefully, "...and I don't want to hurt you, so you have to tell me to stop or slow down if I do hurt you even though I'll try my best not to," his face is completely serious and there isn't a hint of laughter in his voice.

I nod in agreement to his statement, and he nods back, making a silent promise to eachother.

He then brings his left hand up to my cheek and tilts my head as he brings his soft lips to mine. The kiss was painfully slow and tender, as if he could break me by moving too fast.

I move my hands to the nape of his neck, tangling my fingers into his curls. I tug at his hair carefully, and a low groan escapes his lips. Fuck, I'm so wet for him. This is when I remember I'm only wearing lace underwear, meaning my wetness is likely seeping through and marking his clothes. That shouldn't turn me on, but it does.

The kiss begins to get heated, and my need for relief is growing. I subconsciously begin to rock my hips on his thigh, and his hands dig into my skin.

He pulls away from the kiss and moves his mouth to my ear, "Let me take care of you, baby," He whispers.

He delicately flips us over so that I'm now lying on my back, and he's hovering over me, his hands sinking into the mattress near my head. He leans down and peppers kisses on my neck, slowly moving further down onto my collar bone.

One of his hands begins to wander, making sure to touch every curve on my body. He then reaches the hem of my (his) shirt.

"Can I undress you?" His words are so innocent, but they drive me insane. I want him to do more than undress me, I want him. Now. But I know I have to be patient. I nod at his request.

"I need words, baby, please," He pleads. God, could this man get any sexier. I was losing my composure by the second.

"Yes, please, take it off," I reply, in the same tone. He wastes no time sliding the oversized shirt off my body, and I can see his breathing halter when he comes face to face with my bare tits.

He slowly lowers his mouth to the valley of my breasts and places a row of meaningful kisses before shifting his attention over to my left breast. He places a kiss on my hardened nipple before taking it into his warm mouth, I gasp at the feeling.

He plays with my nipple as he swirls his tongue over it and then lightly sucks on it. I let moans spill from lips, which only encourages him to keep going.

After a few moments, he releases it from his mouth and pays the same attention to my right one.

"Matt, please, I need you," I say, beginning to get restless. He's showing me attention in all the wrong places.

"You've gotta be patient, baby," He speaks, a smile forming on his lips. I bet he finds this so amusing; getting me all hot and bothered but not relieving any of the pressure he's creating.

He finally begins to make his way to my last piece of clothing, and without warning, I feel his hand cup me over my underwear. He runs his thumb back and forth over my clit, making me shudder.

By now, I'm a water park. I'm soaking, and my wetness has seeped through my underwear completely.

"You're so fucking wet," he says, bringing his fingers to toy with my wet underwear. I moan at his words.

He hooks his fingers on each side of my panties and slowly shimmies them off me, leaving me completely naked in front of him. I feel the blood rush to my face. I can't believe I'm completely naked in front of him. He can sense my embarrassment and instantly clears me of any doubts.

"Baby, you're so beautiful, I'm so blessed that I get to see you like this. Thank you for blessing me,". I melt at his words. His words instantly reassure me, and my embarrassment fades away.

He places both of his hands on my thighs, slowly parting my legs so that he could see me in my entirety. My wet cunt is now exposed to him and see his breathing hitch.

"Fuck, you're so perfect," he whispers underneath his breath, taking in the view before him. He brings his middle finger to my slick folds, collecting all the wetness he could, then bringing that same finger to his mouth and sucking it clean.

My pussy is throbbing for him. I need him so unbelievably bad. He then looks at me before speaking again, "I need to stretch you out a little before we have sex. Otherwise, it'll hurt a lot more. Will you let me do that?".

His words were soft but yet firm. He really did want to take care of me and ensure that I was enjoying every bit of this as much as he was.

"I trust you," I reply, giving him a small smile. He returns the smile and lowers his gaze again.

He once again brings his middle finger to my pussy but instead of messing around, he went straight for my hole, slowly sinking his finger into me.

I instantly threw my head back. This was nothing like I've ever felt before. He looked back up to me to make sure I was okay before slowly taking his finger out and pushing it back in.

"Fuck, Matt," I breathe out, slowly gripping the sheets beneath me.

"Shh, you're okay, you're doing so good," his praise makes me even wetter, allowing for his finger to slide in and out of me easier.

"Think you can take another one f'me?" He says, watching my pussy swallow his finger.

"Mhm," I can't get any words out with my bottom lip pulled between my teeth.

I then feel another slender finger approach my hole. He slowly pushes the second finger in and it definitely hurts more than the first. It's almost a burning sensation, it hurts so good.

He let's me adjust to the feeling of both fingers in me before beginning to pump them in and out similarly to the first time.

After a few moments of pumping, he pulls both fingers out completely. I shudder at the loss of contact and was about to question why he stopped until I saw him reaching for his belt buckle.

This is what I've been waiting for. Fuck, I'm so nervous but so excited too.

"Baby, are you sure this is what you want?" He asks once again.

"Not really, I'm only doing this for you," I say jokingly.

He halts his movements completely, "I don't joke about consent, baby," He says firmly.

"I'm sorry, of course I want this this baby, I promise," I say, reassuring him. He nods before going back to unzipping his jeans.

Before removing his jeans, he brings his hands to his top, removing both his shirt and vest in one swift move. He then pulls down his jeans, leaving him in only his boxers. I look at the imprint of his cock on his boxers and fuck did he look big.

He finally slid his boxers down, his cock springing out, glad to finally be free from all restraints. I gulp at the sheer size of him. I didn't expect him to be so big. He's at least seven inches, and his tip is red, glistening with pre-cum.

I can see something crosses his mind and he immediately becomes upset.

"What's wrong?" I asked confused.

"I don't have a fucking condom," He sighs annoyed. It's silent for a moment before I speak up.

"Can't you pull out?" I ask innocently.

"I can if you want me to, I'm just scared I'll be so consumed by you that I'll forget completely," he says half seriously and half joking.

"I already told you, Matt, I trust you," I assure him, he nods at my words.

"Alright, my love, if it hurts or if it becomes too much, please tell me to stop, push me off you, tell me to fuck off, anything, just stop me, okay?" He says. I know this is the bare minimum, but the way he cares for me and the way he wants me to also enjoy this is so meaningful to me.

"I promise I will," I say, smiling at him once more.

He adjusts himself so that he's now hovering over me, with one hand near my head on the mattress and his other hand between our bodies, guiding his cock to my entrance. I feel his tip at my entrance, and he slowly grinds his hips forward so that his cock can just about enter me.

He pushes more and more forward until a slight look of discomfort is present on my face.

"Fuck, you're too big, Matt," I say, looking down to where our bodies are connected and seeing that he's not even half way in. There's no way his entire dick is fitting inside of me.

"I know, baby, but you can be a good girl and take it, can't you?" He says, lowering his head to my neck.

"Mhm, I'll take it so good for you," I agree. His words make me even wetter, my wetness coating his cock.

He pushes himself further into me, and there's a burning sensation again, but it's not too noticeable due to the fact that Matt had just previously stretched me out. He was right. It definitely did help.

With one final buck of his hips, I felt his pelvis against my folds. He was completely in. I let out a sigh, feeling him entirely inside me.

As he's pulling out, I look down at our connection. This is when I notice red stuff on his cock. I became confused. Is that blood??? Was I bleeding? Fuck, that's so embarrassing. But it didn't even hurt that much, there's no way I'm bleeding from that?

Questions and concerns fill my mind to the point where I can't keep it to myself.

"Matt..." I speak softly.

"What's wrong, my love?" He instantly notices something is wrong.

"Am I bleeding?" I say, looking back down between us. He follows my gaze and sees the blood coating his cock.

"Oh babyy, don't worry about it, you had me worried," he says as if I'm not literally bleeding.

"Why am I bleeding?" I ask, I want to know why this is happening.

"It's just because I broke your hymen baby, in other words, I popped your cherry," he smirks. He's essentially saying that I'm officially not a virgin anymore.

I can tell this turns him on. The fact that he was the one I trusted with this special moment means a lot to him, and it means a lot to me too. I'm glad I'm able to share my 'first' with him.

He resumes his movements and begins to pump his dick back into me, this time at a slightly quicker pace. My pussy adjusts to him very quickly, and from this point forward it's all pleasure.

A few moments later and he's established a rhythm. It's not too fast but not too slow, and he's hitting all the right spots. I can't stop the moans from spilling out of my mouth, which motivates a few moans and groans to also flee his lips.

"M-Matt, fa-faster...please," my broken request is immediately fulfilled as Matt's hips pick up the pace. I feel my orgasm building up, and if he continued like this, I'd be coming all over his cock in a few minutes.

He continued his movements without faltering once, and the only sounds that could be heard is the sound of our skin connecting repeatedly with the mixture of my moans and his panting.

"I'm s-so c-close, Matt," I moan.

"Fuck, me too," He says, speeding up ever so slightly. He then brings his hand down between our bodies to rub my clit and this was my final straw. My orgasm came crashing down, and I almost saw stars. I felt my pussy spasm around his cock which was still rhythmically pumping in and out of me.

"FUCKK, JUST LIKE THAT," Matt moans as he pulls his cock out from me and jerks it off at the speed of light. His mouth falls open and his eyebrows are scrunched together. That sight was almost enough to make me finish again.

Suddenly, hot, white cum shoots out and lands on my stomach. He milks his cock for all of it before pressing his sweaty forehead against mine.

"Shit, babe, that was amazing," he pants, before getting up to get a towel to clean us up.

"Are you okay?" He asks as he's wiping his cum from my stomach.

"Yeah, I'm just in shock," I smile. He smiles back and he grabs my shirt from the floor, and pulls it over my head. He then gets back in bed and pulls me onto his chest.

The rest of the evening was mundane, we watched more tv, ordered food, and cuddled until we fell asleep but this is a day I will never forget.

The care and love that he treated me with was indescribable and I will forever be grateful to him that he made my first time as special and memorable as possible.

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

a/n; this was lowk longer than I thought it was gonna be lmaoo. anywayy, i hope you enjoyed reading it. if u have any suggestions for future fanfics or other content in general lmk! love you sm <33

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗘𝗫𝗔𝗦 𝗜𝗦 𝗦𝗢 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗗

　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and the triplets decide to go out for dinner at a pizzeria, but Y/N is cold and Chris becomes her personal heater.

REQUESTED?: Yes, from anon.

WARNING: None.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Forget about it!" Chris's voice sounded in a ridiculous Italian accent, catching Y/N's attention, who was a little away from the triplets as she looked at the pizzeria's sign.

The girl turned around, seeing Nick holding the camera with both hands, the lens focusing on Matt and Chris, her own silhouette probably appearing in the background.

Y/N smiled at the brothers' banter as she rubbed her hands together, trying to extract some heat from the friction as she mentally cursed herself for her chosen outfit option.

When the boys came up with the idea of ​​trying a different Texas-style pizzeria that had good reviews online, she felt super excited. Her biggest hobby was discovering new restaurants, so much so that in LA, she took the boys with her at least once a week to have dinner out.

But she completely forgot that she wasn't in LA and that the cold in Texas was intense, reaching 2°C. And that was precisely why she was so angry with herself, having chosen a short dress with a long sleeve that did nothing to warm her arms and left her collarbone exposed, a pair of pantyhose too thin to even be felt against her skin and a pair of high-heeled, short-cut boots that didn't even reach past her heels.

Y/N pressed her legs together as she crossed her arms tightly around her own waist, white smoke leaving her lips with each deep breath. She just hoped the pizzeria had a good heater.

"Yeah, so we're eating pizza..." Nick turned the camera so that the lens framed him too, starting to explain what they were going to do.

Chris turned towards the entrance of the restaurant as he looked for his girlfriend, missing her presence by his side. His eyes found her quickly, a smile stretching across his face, but that was soon replaced by furrowed eyebrows upon seeing her condition.

He walked away from his brothers and took quick steps towards Y/N, placing his hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension in the area, probably due to the cold.

"Shit, you're freezing, baby. I told you to change your clothes." Chris murmured, his voice sounding panickly as he ran his hands up and down the girl's arms, trying to warm her up with the friction between his hands and the thin fabric of her dress sleeve.

Even though his words were scolding, his voice sounded like a wave of heat through Y/N's body. She just shook her head, a whine escaping her throat.

"I forgot it was 2°C." She responded in a weak voice, her teeth chattering as she tried to run her hot tongue over her lips, wanting to warm them up, but to no avail.

"Look, we have a penguin with us today." Nick's voice sounded close to the couple in a playful tone, his hand still holding the camera on as a laugh escaped his lips, the lens catching the two of them and Matt, who was looking at them with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed, probably worried about Y/N's situation.

"Texas is so cold." The girl complained, getting closer to Chris looking for more human warmth.

The boy hugged her tightly, the momentary heat penetrating Y/N's sore muscles, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.

"Thanks." Her voice was muffled, her face pressed completely against Chris' covered chest.

His arms wrapped around her shoulders so perfectly that their bodies looked like a two-piece puzzle. The human heat that surrounded Chris's body embraced Y/N's one, creating a bubble around the two. A sound of appreciation escaped Chris' lips at the closeness, his hands caressing his girlfriend's cold back.

The boy bent down slightly, bringing his face closer to Y/N's, sealing his lips momentarily on her forehead before running his nose lightly over the sensitive skin, a shiver running through the girl's spine due to the coldness of the tip of his nose.

A few seconds later, Chris realized that his girlfriend was still shivering, slightly moving her away from his body, receiving a sound of complaint in response.

Chris just raised his right hand, silently asking her to wait. He brought his hands to the hem of his black hoodie, pulling it up and removing the piece from his body, the beanie falling from his head with the movement.

Matt bent down, retrieving the beanie as a smile stretched across his face.

"Chris is a true gentleman, guys." Nick started from behind the camera, a smile in his voice. "Don't accept anything less than that." He continued, adjusting the camera's zoom so that it focused on Chris, who was holding the hoodie in his hands. His body now only covered by his baggy jeans and two layers of black turtleneck sweater.

The youngest of the triplets completely ignored him, approaching Y/N, who was watching his movements with wide eyes.

"Babe, no! You'll be cold." She exclaimed, raising her hands trying to stop him.

"My priority is your comfort, gorgeous." Chris returned it, arranging the hoodie in his hands so that he could slip the piece over his girlfriend's head, being careful with her makeup, knowing that if he messed it up, she would be mad.

The boy helped her pass her arms through the respective holes, pulling the hem down and pressing the fabric against her body, trying to warm her up more quickly.

"I loved the style, very aesthetic." Matt commented from the couple's side, letting out a laugh. Chris smiled as he rolled his eyes, wrapping his right arm around Y/N's shoulder, pulling her close, her arms wrapping around his waist.

"Can we eat now? Please?" Nick asked, his voice sounding desperate. He was eager to try the meatballs he'd seen so much of in the reviews.

"This is literally the only time you'll ever see me with chapped lips, I'm in the fucking Tundra right now." Matt spoke quickly as he looked at the camera, his icy hand passing over his lips.

Y/N opened her black purse - which only had a lip gloss and a watermelon Space Camp lip balm - and took out the lip balm, handing it to Matt, who jokingly celebrated before thanking her, opening the package and passing it across his lips.

"Free advertising." Chris's sentence was the last thing the camera captured, besides the others' laughter and the little "go buy Space Camp" comment made by Y/N, before Nick turned it off and they finally entered the pizzeria.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

extra - comments:

"Chris taking off his hoodie and giving it to Y/N because she was cold 😭"

"it's exactly because of Y/N and Chris that my standards are so high"

"yes Nick, we all know that Chris is a true gentleman 😔"

"can we take a few seconds to admire Y/N's beauty in that outfit? WHAT A WOMAN"

"Matt picking up Chris's beanie off the floor 😭"

"Chris hugging Y/N all worried and shit because she was shivering from the cold 🥺"

"Y/N lending her Space Camp to Matt after he complained about his chapped lips: the biggest advertisement you can have"

"Nick hire Y/N to advertise your brand right now!!!"

"MY PARENTS 😭🧎‍♀️"

[lordprettyflackotara]

noise || ben drowned & jeff the killer || maid!reader || (𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓵𝔂pasta au)

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: threesome, jeff’s an asshole, dom!jeff, soft dom!ben, humiliation, spanking, face fucking, you take a trip to paris, facial, orgasm denial, bondage

If your past self could’ve asked your current self how you had gotten in this position, you weren’t sure you could’ve provided an answer.

You were currently bent over on Ben’s bed, knees tucked to your chest as your hands were handcuffed behind your back. A silk blindfold was secured around your eyes, making everything you possibly could’ve seen now invisible. Jeff had asked Ben to tie you up before he got there, no longer in the mood for a chase. Now you had to silently suffer, listening to Jeff and Ben chat nonchalantly. Your cunt was soaking, your previous orgasm covering your slick. They chatted about you as if you weren’t there, the thick smell of weed indicating to you they were smoking.

“Yeah and then, she came on my dick without permission dude,” Ben finished, his story one full of the raunchy and explicit details of your affair with him. He handed Jeff back the blunt, Jeff’s preferred method of smoking. The pale killer chuckled darkly. “Funny that she’s that much of a brat, everyone around here loves to praise her,” He commented. The two watched you squirm, the handcuffs preventing you from doing much of anything at all. “You ask me we could probably find many more just like her. Ones that are more obedient too,” Ben replied. They grinned sadistically as you tried to clench your thighs to create some sort of friction. Jeff exhaled the smoke, passing the blunt back to Ben. “Maybe we should ask Slender for a new maid. I think this one is broken,” He snickered. This really got you going, the pleas falling off of your lips before you could stop yourself,

“No no no please, i’ll be good. Please just touch me. Use me.”

The boys exchanged devious looks as they approached you, Ben in front of you and Jeff behind you. You didn’t recognize Jeff’s large and rough hands, but you knew it was him by the sharp slap he delivered to your ass. “You gonna be a good whore then? Huh? Let us use you until you break?” Jeff huffed. You nodded profusely, Ben’s hand picking your chin up off of the mattress. “Whatever you want. Just please. I need this. I need you. Both of you,” You cried, silently cursing the restriction of the blindfold. You sighed in relief as you felt the bed dip, the clinking of belts music to your ears. Jeff ran two fingers up your slick, grinning devilishly at the sight of how wet you were. "I see you had fun disobeying Ben," He mused. You swallowed, licking your dry lips. "I-I didn't mean to, it felt so good," You explained. Jeff delivered a sharp slap to your ass, causing you to yelp in pain.

"I didn't ask you to speak, did I? Shut her up Ben," Jeff barked. You rolled out your tongue, Ben teasingly slapping the tip of his cock against your cheek. You whimpered as Jeff delivered another slap to your ass, your skin turning visibly red. "Arch that back for me slut," Jeff ordered. You arched your back as best as you could, your wrist scraping against the metal. Ben slowly slid his cock into your mouth, as Jeff teased and prodded at your cunt. He purposefully avoided your clit, exploring your folds delightfully slow. You whined around Ben's cock, the vibrations making Ben groan. "Such a warm mouth, fuck," Ben panted. Jeff grabbed the mounds of your ass, forcefully splitting them open. "I have an idea. Let's play a game," Jeff suggested. Ben shoved himself in deeper, his cock sinking into the back of your throat. Tears flooded your waterline, the blindfold soaking up the droplets. "You need some discipline slut. Since you like cock so much let's teach you in a way you'll understand," Jeff chuckled darkly. Your clenched around nothing in anticipation, forcing your jaw to go slack.

"Every time I spank you, you're going to count. If you don't or lose track, I think i'll fuck your other hole, got it?" Jeff asked. His thumb ran over your puckered hole, causing you to shudder from fear and arousal. You nodded profusely, Ben's cock sliding in and out of your throat. The first smack made you fall forward in a pathetic attempt to get away, your nose buried in Ben's bush. "One," You said, Ben's cock muffling you. It continued like that, each slap from Jeff getting rougher and rougher. Your skin was becoming tomato red, sensitive to the touch. Jeff teasingly traced the mound of your ass, watching you quiver. Meanwhile you were struggling to continue deep throating Ben, becoming light headed from the lack of oxygen. You weren't able to protest anything, Ben's cock relentless as it pounded into your throat. Jeff finally grew impatient, rubbing his tip up and down your slick.

"You're lucky i'm feeling kind today doll. Now shut up and take this dick," Jeff huffed. The pale killer was anything but gentle, slamming his cock inside of you. You struggled against the handcuffs, Jeff not giving you anytime to adjust to his girth. Momentarily Ben pulled out of your throat, grinning as you gasped for air. Your moans rang off of Ben’s bedroom walls, Jeff fucking you mercilessly. Ben smeared the remnants of saliva on his cock on your cheek, soaking in your sinful noises as Jeff pounded into you. “F-fucking shit, too much,” You whined, your wrist beginning to burn from digging into the metal of the handcuffs. Ben grabbed your chin, your blindfold finally being ripped off. “Too much? Cmon pretty princess we’re just getting started!” Ben said, giving you a devilish smile. Jeff relished in the feeling of your gummy walls clinging to his cock, milking him dry. “You’re gonna take it and you’re gonna like it,” Jeff grunted. His fingers dug harshly into your hips, you knew you were guaranteed bruises tomorrow.

You whined as Jeff’s balls slammed against your clit with each thrust, another orgasm boiling in the bottom of your stomach. Ben stuffed his cock back in your mouth, snickering at the sight of you fighting against your handcuffs. “Loosen up your jaw for me,” He panted, weak in the knees as your mascara trailed down your cheeks. The boys were relentless, pounding you from both ends. Jeff could sense you were about to cum, his evil grin curling upwards even wider. “Awe are you about to cum on my cock slut? Does taking two cocks at the same time really get you off?” He questioned. Your response was muffled by Ben abusing your throat, your thighs trembling as you attempted to hold back your orgasm. You didn’t want to give Jeff the gratification by cumming on his cock. Yet your body was betraying you, each thrust bringing you dangerously closer and closer to the edge.

“I think she’s holding back. Stupid slut doesn’t want to cum,” Ben commented. Jeff delivered another sharp slap to your ass, before abruptly pulling out of your cunt. You whimpered at the loss of friction, the pale killer watching your cunt clench around nothing. “You don’t wanna cum? Fine then, don’t cum,” He barked. He joined Ben’s side, the blonde removing his cock from your throat. You gasped for air, both men standing before you with their hard cocks begging for attention. “Stick out your fuckin tongue,” Jeff growled. You flattened your tongue across your lip, staring up at both of the men. Your heart was beating a hundred miles per hour, your smeared mascara now dried across your cheeks. Both of them pumped their cocks in front of your face, panting as they did so. “Fuck, gonna cum,” Ben sighed, aiming his seed to paint your tongue. The taste of salt danced across your taste buds as his warm cum slid down your tongue. “Keep that tongue out,” Jeff sneered. Ben’s cum traveled down your tongue, dripping onto the bed below. Jeff grunted your name as he came, purposefully aiming his seed to shoot across your face.

Both boys were quick to button themselves back up, leaving you a filthy and wet mess. “You know we forgot to get Helen a birthday present. His birthdays tomorrow,” Ben mentioned casually, as if they didn’t just take you to paris. You would’ve began to clean yourself up, if the fear of what they’d do to you if they disagreed didn’t scare you. So instead you felt Jeff’s warm cum settle onto your face, little droplets of Ben’s dripping off your tongue. “No worries dude, I have the perfect bday gift,” Jeff replied. He took out his phone, turning on the obnoxious flash and snapping a picture of you. He tapped away at his phone, before giving you a devilish smile.

“Better pack your bags sweetheart. You’re gonna spend the night at the Trenderman mansion.”

[thebigbadbatswife]

Working For It

Pairing(s): Bruce Wayne x F!Reader x Selina Kyle

Summary - Bruce and Selina love to make you work for his cock.

Warnings - 18+ ONLY! Smut. Thigh riding. Fingering. Face sitting. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Bruce and Selina are a little mean. Aftercare.

Word Count - 1.9k

“Come on, baby. We both know you can do better than that,” Selina purrs from where she lays on the bed. She’s on her side, one hand supporting her head while the other is between her thighs, playing with her clit.

All you can do is whine and moan as you roll your hips, almost desperately, against Bruce’s bare thigh. His back is against the headboard, eyes dark as he watches you cover his thigh in your slick. His cock is rock hard, the head red and dripping precum. He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t know, Selina. I don’t think she wants my cock that badly.”

His words have you whining out of frustration. You do want his cock. You really do, but the slicker his thigh gets with your juices the less friction there is, making it harder to keep your pace and chase your pleasure. 

“I do,” you gasp. “I do want your cock! I want it so badly.” 

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless?” he asks. 

You nod eagerly. You do. You really do. It’s been on your mind more often than it hasn’t all week and it’s been driving you crazy. But both of your lovers seem content with torturing you instead.

“Gonna be a good girl and come on my thigh then?”

“Yes. I want to be your good girl,” you mange to choke out. You try angling your hips differently, getting your clit to fully press against his body, but it doesn’t really work. Instead it only leaves you more frustrated than you were before.

Bruce must take pity on you because the next thing you know you’re being briefly lifted from his thigh while a towel is draped over his thigh.

“There we go. That’s better,” he coos. The hand on your hip, that’s been keeping you stable this entire time, gives you a gentle squeeze.

You have already started rutting against him again, the friction created by the towel giving you more control and feeling of it dragging against your engorged clit feels amazing and has you finally getting closer to your release. 

Bruce is enjoying the fucked out expression on your pretty face as you moan and fuck yourself on his thigh. You’re so goddamn wet that you have already soaked the towel, seeping through the fabric and clinging to his skin. His attention is pulled away from you as Selina moves. She pushes her tongue into his mouth and he moans into the kiss. His free hand comes up between her thighs, his fingers easily sliding through her slick folds and he pushes them up inside of her. She moans as she starts to fuck herself onto his fingers and he takes the opportunity to wrap his mouth around one of her nipples.

Your eyes are completely focused on Bruce and Selina. You love watching your two lovers kiss and touch each other. It adds to your own excitement, adding to the pressure building up deep inside of your lower stomach. Selina’s gaze meets yours, mischief dancing in those green eyes of hers.

“I think she should only be able to have your cock if she can cum in the next 30 seconds.” 

Bruce chuckles and it’s clear he’s agreeing with her. They both love torturing you so much and you’re so intoxicated by both of them that all you can do is listen to them because you want it. You want his cock. No, you need his cock. You need to feel him splitting you open and filling you up so badly, until you’re so fucked out you can’t remember your name anymore. 

“20 seconds,” Selina calls.

As mean as he can be at times, Bruce is still nice enough to keep a grip on your hips, continuing to give you the leverage that you need as you continue to grind your soaked cunt against him.

“Ten seconds.”

They both can tell you’re close by the way that your moans continue to grow louder and louder.

“5 seconds, baby. Time’s almost up.”

By the time that Selina reaches 3, you’re crying out Bruce’s name, your head thrown back and your eyes shut, as your orgasm steals away your breath. He catches you as you collapse against him, your head coming to rest against his chest as your body shakes and you trying to regain control of your breathing. As you come down from your high, catching your breath, he praises you and tells you what a good girl you are for them. Selina’s hands come to rest on your hips and she presses feather light kisses to your sweat soaked skin, adding her voice to his praises. 

Their words start to spark more heat inside of you, a growing need starting to build back up from deep within. There’s only one thing that you can think of that will help soothe it.

“I can’t believe the two of you timed me,” you mutter once you finally feel recovered enough. “I better get my reward.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bruce replies. You feel Selina pull away and he gently flips your positions so that you’re now laying on the bed with him on top. He presses his lips against yours in a slow and sweet kiss. You sigh into the kiss as your hands come up to cup his face.

He pulls away sooner than you would like for him to, resting on his knees as he gets you to wrap your hips around him and he lines his cock up with your entrance. You gasp and your back arches as his cock starts to push inside of you. That delicious stretch as your body accommodates his large size has your fingers gripping the bedsheets. He bottoms out inside of you and stills for a moment. 

Selina kisses you before settling her legs either side of your head, facing Bruce. Her pussy is absolutely dripping with need, her clitoris red and engorged, poking out from beneath its hood. You swallow thickly at the sight, your cunt squeezing around Bruce’s cock, drawing a deep groan from him. You have to taste her. As you tug her down to get her to sit on your face, Selina laughs.

 “Always so eager to please,” she purrs, already gently rolling her hips. 

You answer her by wrapping your lips around her clitoris and sucking, drawing a moan from her. Pleased, you release her clit and lap up her arousal, groaning at her taste. 

Your groan quickly turns into a moan as Bruce slowly pulls out before roughly thrusting back into you. He sets a steady pace, each thrust making you moan against her pussy. You’re still so sensitive from your previous orgasm you can feel the pleasure quickly building up inside of you. Your nails dig into Selina’s muscular thighs in attempt to try and ground yourself.

Though you can’t see either of them right now, you know that they are kissing. Their moans and groans are muffled and his pace has slowed, letting the pleasure that's been building up inside of you slowly fizzle out.

As you roll your hips, looking for some friction and trying to get him to move faster again, you push three of your fingers inside of Selina and wrap your lips around her clit again. You know when you have found that sweet spot deep inside of her by the way that she suddenly gasps your name and her body squeezes your fingers while her thighs squeeze the side of your head. Her nails scrape against your skin and she rides your face more insistently, chasing after her high.

Bruce’s pace slows down even more. He drags his cock against the walls of your cunt, making sure you can feel every last vein, as he watches Selina fall apart thanks to your deft tongue and fingers. Her mouth drops open as she cries your name and her entire body shakes as her orgasm crashes into her. The sight is almost enough to have him cumming right there. She rolls off of your face, collapsing against the mattress as she breathes heavily.

He sees his chance and moves forward. Your mouth and chin are covered in her release. He can’t help himself. He licks a stripe from your chin to the tip of your nose, groaning softly at the tangy taste. You giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss and happily letting him push his tongue into your mouth. 

As the two of you kiss, Bruce starts to move again. This time faster and a little bit harder than before. Each thrust has you moaning wantonly as your nails start to dig into his back. The springs of the mattress creak with each thrust and his head comes to rest in the crook of your neck.

Slender fingers surprise you as they press against your overly sensitive clitoris and start to rub tight circles against it. You’re sure that you must be drawing blood as the grip you have on him tightens the closer you get to your climax. Pleasure is thrumming through every inch of you and you know he’s as close as you are. His thrusts are growing sloppy and his usually grunts and groans are turning into moans of your name.

“Come on, baby. Let go.” 

You have no idea which one of you Selina is actually talking to. Perhaps both of you? In the end it doesn’t really matter. You get there first, your body locking up and squeezing his cock as the edges of your vision turn fuzzy and all you can hear is your heart thumping away in your ears. Bruce falls straight over the edge with you, the squeezing of your cunt too much for him, and he buries himself as deep as he can, as he fills your pussy with his cum.

By the time you come back to your senses, Bruce has already pulled out of you and is cleaning you up, while Selina has your head resting in her lap and is gently stroking your hair. The feeling of the damp washcloth coming in contact with your pussy has a sharp gasp leaving you as you realise just how sore you are down there. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss to your knee. “Got a bath running for you. Should help with your discomfort.” 

“And I’ve ordered takeout from your favourite place,” Selina says. “You must be starving.”

“Sounds good,” you reply. She’s not wrong, you are hungry, and food from your favourite place sounds absolutely divine.

Your orgasms have left you completely boneless and exhausted, but it’s the good type of exhausted. One where you feel so content with your life and loved by the two people that you love most in this world. It also leaves you pliable and easy for Bruce to manhandle as he lifts you from the bed. You curl into his embrace, snuggling against his body, which has him chuckling. As he carries you toward the en-suite, you find yourself desperately fighting to keep your eyelids open as sleep tries to claim you.

The feeling of hot water washing over your body doesn’t help. It’s a battle the entire time to keep yourself awake. One that both Bruce and Selina seem to find amusing.

It’s only after your bath and your food has arrived that you wake up a little bit more. The smell of the food making your stomach growl and your mouth water as your body decides that eating right now is way more important than trying to get some sleep.

Once you’re full, you have no issues with falling fast asleep. Especially when you’re finally tucked in bed with both of Bruce and Selina’s bodies pressed against your own.

[jilixthinker]

SKZ AS SUBS - MAKNAE LINE 🥀

as the self-proclaimed sub!skz ambassador, i felt the need to share my version to the internet just because this was boiling inside of my brain for too long, so... i am sorry ♡

content warning: sub!skz, dom!fem reader, unprotected sex, mention of subspace, dacryphilia, perv tendencies, overstimulation, light BDSM, boob sucking, mommy kink, noona kink, anal play (m receiving), cross dressing, feet play, lactation kink, food play, dumbification, pet play, choking, breeding kink, cum play, virgin, reversed corruption kink, sex toys, masturbation, oral sex (both receiving)

HYUNG LINE MAKNAE LINE

➛ Han

- whiny™️. the word whiny was created for hannie himself. he becomes a sobbing mess after just one second of you touching him, even if it's not sexual;

- dacryphilia will soon become one of your biggest kinks, even if you didn't explore it before meeting him. he cries, pants, sobs and hiccups at every slight friction and will plead to not to stop, ever;

- tears are not the only thing making your boy messy. because he also drools. a lot. he does it when he is on top of you, face hidden in the crook of your neck, and when it's you topping him, cheek pressed into the soaked pillow under his head;

- with hannie you are gonna have multiple rounds almost everytime. he doesn't last too much, poor angel, because he is always overwhelmed with how warm and tight and wet you feel and he just cannot hold himself. he recovers very fast though, and he will happily suck you into his mouth in those few minutes of waiting;

- be prepared, because he is horny 24/7, and gets pussydrunk very quickly. he is up to anything you can give him? handjob before going to work? quickie in the restroom? filthy audios to keep him satiated? he wants it all;

- he has slight perv tendencies. it's consensual of course, and you told him multiple times that you are perfectly fine with everything he does, but he likes to pretend you don't know. the rush of adrenaline he gets by stealing your panties to bring them to work and taking dirty photos of you when you are not looking makes him feel dirty, and he likes it;

- since he cums really quickly and he is very horny all the times, i can see him being into overstimulation. he will beg you to keep circling the palm of your hand on his cockhead until he almost squirms away, and then he will cum for a second time in a few seconds;

- he has a filthy mouth, and he won't shut up under any circumstance. your neighbors probably hate you;

- he likes to be as submissive and yours as possible. he loves being your little toy to play with, and he will often ask you to finger his mouth as if it was his pussy, and to tie him so he cannot move to much and be completely under your control;

- he prefers when you ride him. he loves seeing you ravishing him and milk him dry, but especially because he just can't get enough of your boobs. when you stay on top he can bury his face on them and suckle at your nipples until your chest is all covered in drool;

- kind of obvious but he has a mommy kink/noona kink, and calling you that while you are fucking him makes his brain feel floaty and fuzzed. "Please noona, oh f-fuck, please - ah nnghh - p-please mama, mommy, let me cum, mama - uhh".

- he is into anal play, but for him. hannie will ask you to finger him, fuck him with your strap, rim him and put a plug in his cute wiggly butt at least once a week. he feels like your princess like that, he cannot help it.

➛ Felix

- here we have him, angel boy lixie. the softest, the sweetest, the embodiment of love. just a look at him and you would give him the entire universe;

- just as binnie, i think that also felix would be into cross dressing. he buys all the pink lacey underwear that he can find on the internet, and he pairs them with pleated skirts and high stokings;

- he will also add a few cute ribbons on his hair, and maybe a little bit of make up too. a rosey eyeshadow, shiny highlighter and glossy lipstick, better if sticky. he will let you fuck him without taking anything off, just pull the panties apart and slide his puffy cockhead on your folds until he cums prettily all over himself;

- he loves you so much he almost worships you. whenerver he is intimate with you, you will always find him looking at you fondly, tears almost prickling his eyes. he cannot help it, he just feels so much when you are together that he cannot believe how lucky he is;

- lixie has particular kinks, but he loves every single inch of you, and he will make sure to let you know. i have the feeling he would love feet stuff a little bit more than he wants to admit. especially when you are chilling on the sofa together, and your sole presses too close to his groin. he always feels a little aroused and filthy for the fact he enjoys this kind of stimulation;

- another mommy kink enthusiast here. he loves being cuddled and pampered by you. the nickname falls naturally out of his lips whenever you give him pleasure, and he sounds so innocent while doing it that it becomes an habit also out of the bedroom;

- lixie loves your breasts. he massage them to fall asleep and he suck on them as a comfort whenever he feels a little bit overwhelmed or fuzzy into his headspace. he like to be babied like that, to be lulled in your arms while he suckles softly on your nipples with pouted lips;

- and this led to his lactation kink. he is not ashamed of asking you to pretend to brestfeed him whenever he is stressed out. "b-baby please, gimme your milk, it was an awful day, p-please";

- he will need a lot of physical touch, such as holding hands, hugging and kissing. He loves every position in which he can be as close to you as he can;

- he wants and gives baby talk all the time. every cute nickname is okay for him, but his favorite are love, angel, sweetheart and sugar;

- definively into food play. he will take every chance to play with you while cooking and baking, sweet hiccups while you twirl your tongue on the head of his honey-dripping cock and lap at his sweet balls underneath;

- talks in 3rd person while in subspace. "uh- mommy, a-angel.. lix -uggghn- l-lixie is cumming, oh god, lixie is c-cumming".

➛ Seungmin

- i am a strong believer that seungmin is the hardest sub of all the boys. whenever he is in the bedroom his personality will shift drastically until he becomes a brainless needy thing;

- minnie is always so stoic and composed in real life that he just needs to let go. sex for him is the only way he can empty his head and give you the absolute control of his body;

- that's why he immediately falls into his subspace as soon as you get intimate with each other. he cannot conceive any other way of loving you than to give you complete power over him;

- i can see him being into light humiliation and dumbification. minnie needs to be useful for you and he will do anything to fulfill your desires. he gets off on the feeling of being your toy and your sexual object, and the embarassment he feels whenever you call him your dumb thing makes his head spin;

- for this exact reason, he is into pet play as well. he loves to be reduced as a silly puppy who needs to earn his treats. whenever you make him kneel in front of you to take food directly from your hands, his cock is always red and leaky against his lap. you often let him hump your calf and stop him just before he cums just to see him crying and pleading for you;

- after a few months, he will probably ask you to explore choking on him. you establish a few rules and safe words before you try that, and the way he just mewls while you lightly restrain his breath will convince you to do it more often;

- minnie needs to be owned. he will ask you to give him a tiny collar with your name on it, and he will wear it everywhere, even at work, hidden under his clothes;

- he always follows your orders diligently, but he enjoys his punishments a little bit too much as well. he pretends not to, because he wants to be your good pup, but he cannot hide the way his wet cock almost drools with precum every time your hand slap the soft fat of his butt, or the back of his balls;

- being so utterly in love with you, he will quickly develop a breeding kink. he cannot hold himself whenever he hears your voice tempting him, and he will cum the hardest if you combine it with a little degradation. "is my little pup ready to breed? mmh... i'm not sure. dumb pup is so weak to fill me up with his cum, isn't he? but you can try, puppy, you can try stuffing me full of your babies."

- and, of course, he is the weakest for cum play. especially if you let him lap his own release out of your folds after he emptied his load inside of you;

- another non verbal baby. as soon as you start pleasuring him, he will not be able to form a single sentence anymore. just sighs, sobs, soft moans and mewls;

➛ I.N

- here we go, another sub enthusiast here!! sweet, lovely innie is so happy of being with you that just cannot wait to try everything that he can;

- i can see him being a virgin before meeting you. not because he didn't have the opportunity of experiencing sex with anyone, but because he wanted to wait for his true love and be as confortable as possible;

- that's why he quickly develops a reversed corruption kink. innie wants - no, he needs - you to ruin him for good. he wants to feel little and inexperienced under your gaze. he wants to know that you are there for him, to teach him and guide him until he knows how to pleasure and be pleasured;

- after the first stages, he becomes unsatiable. he will ask for you to fuck him multiple times a day. poor baby will make up for all the time he lost!;

- he wants to try as many sex toys as he can. he will probably buy a bunch randomly without even know how to use them, and then place them neatly on your bed while waiting for you to show him the way they work;

- he gets pussydrunk pretty fast. he loves eating you out and fingering you the most. as soon as he is confident enough, he will ask you to sit on his face and ride his tongue until you cum on him;

- the prettiest soft grunts while you ride him or you manhandle him, "uh, nnnngh, ff-fuck, ahhh, oh g-god";

- thigh guy for sure. he goes crazy every time he sees you in a short skirt or in a tight pair of jeans. he will look at your legs so much he will almost go crossed-eye and will mentally pray for you to suffocate him with them as soon as you come back home;

- he loves to watch you masturbating. he will sit obediently at the foot of your bed, enraptured by the schlick sound of your fingers pushing in and out of your wet pussy, baby boy almost salivating at the sight;

- call him a simple guy, but he cums the hardest with sloppy blowjobs. he knows he has to stay still, but he usually cannot handle it till you give him permission and will end up thrusting in your mouth just a couple of times before you smack his ass and bring him back to his place;

- another noona lover here. he just loves the feeling of your experienced hands guiding him into pure bliss and to be called your pretty little boy;

- "noona, what was that? oh-ohhh g-god that feels amazing, p-please do it again."

taglist: @jisunglyricist @hannahhhhs-things @hyuniehwa @changisworld @hyunjinhoexxx @yoobears @rockstrhanji @yongboks-stuff @taliavaleska @hw4-l1z @4-chan-inpadella @k-cock @biglipsfattits @vanillacupcakefrosting @simpity-wimpity

if you see your name in bold, it means that I couldn't tag you!

©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[bandgie]

Hey I saw your requests were open so I figured I’d shoot my shot. Can I request a fic Where Hyunjin really needs to pee and reader is joking around with him while straddling his lap and he keeps warning her that he needs to go but she thinks he’s kidding and he ends up peeing a bit and he feels kinda shy about it so reader tells him it’s okay to just let go while she’s on his lap. Then she starts grinding on him and he gets turned on and they fuck raw for the first time 😁

a/n: oh you're siicckk I love it

warnings: just read the ask man, MDNI 18+, established relationship, under the influence, fem!reader, dom-ish reader, soft dick hyunjin (lets fucken go), fluff mostly, PIV, no protection, come on you should know me by now!

1.4k words

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Maybe drinking wasn't the best idea. You could only imagine the pounding headache that would come in the morning. However, you couldn't manage to care enough as you sat on Hyunjin's warm lap. His hands were lazily placed on your hips, softly rocking them against his crotch.

Another bad idea in getting wasted was that neither you nor Hyunjin had explored each other much. The relationship was still new, but that didn't stop either of you from grinding up against each other late into the night. 

Hyunjin could feel the excitement bubbling in his stomach. The feeling of your plush thighs on his, how your chest was pressed in his face. It sent a thrill down his spine to be this close to you, but there was a familiar pressure in his bladder that ruined the mood.

"Babe," his voice was velvety soft as he spoke. "I gotta piss."

You looked down at your lover. A confused look on your face as you replied, "Now?" He nods, looking at you like a dog who got his bone taken away. "Yes, now."

Rather than getting up, you grab the back of his head and force him between your breasts. He makes a mmf! sound then giggles at your behavior. "Babbeee," he drawls. "I really need to go." His hands tap your ass as an encouragement to get up, but you aren't having it.

"You just don't want to touch me," you pout. The alcohol must be getting to your head. You're not one to deny someone of relieving their bladder. Hyunjin, however, is too drunk to catch onto the playfulness of your tone. "Of course I want to touch you! I'll just go to the bathroom real quick and-"

Hyujin's cut off with a moan as you grind your hips down on him. You rock back and forth, trying to create some friction between the layers of clothes. "You can hold it." It's not a request, but a demand from you. 

He shakes his head, "I really can't. We drank a lot. I'mma piss myself."

This makes you giggle, "Big boys don't pee their pants." You ignore Hyunjin's whines as you lift your hips just enough to remove your skirt. With your white underwear exposed, he can see the small patch of wetness that's accumulated. 

"If you do wanna piss that bad, you can go here," you look down to your bare thighs. Your hands move from the back of his head to the front of his pants. He doesn't protest when you unbuckle his belt, zip down his zipper to pull out his soft cock.

You coo at the sight, grabbing ahold of his dick and running your thumb along the slight. "You really are drunk," you mumble. "Can't even get hard." Hyunjin looks both horrified and aroused. It's your first time seeing his cock, and he's flaccid. You, on the other hand, are beyond ecstatic to see it. 

The warmth of your hand makes his hips jerk upwards. He groans. "Fuck, I'm gonna pee on you."

No matter how many times Hyunjin's warned you, you're still shocked to see a yellow stream emit from his tip. He tried to cover his cock, but you quickly slap his hands away. His piss lands on his jeans, leaking into the material. The warmth seeps onto your thighs, all the way down until your white underwear is stained with a yellow hue.

He moans. Moans when he sees you covered in his pee, his fifth. Hyunjin expects you to jump off his lap and run to the bathroom. He's waiting for your disgusted expression, but he's surprised to see a wide smile on your face. 

You pump his wet cock, drooling. "Fuck it's everywhere. Peed on me like a dog, you're so hot." Some piss leaks from his cock as you stroke him faster. Your underwear sticks to your cunt, but you're certain it's more of his own fluid than yours.

Hyunjin whimpers, "I...You think it's hot?"

The uncertainty in his voice pulls at your heartstrings. Your boyfriend could do anything, and you'd find it endearing. He has you wrapped around his finger, and he doesn't even know it. "I think you're hot," you emphasize. "I need you in me now. I really wanna fuck you."

If Hyunjin was more sober, he would be horrified at the thought of having sex with you like this. He wanted your first time to be romantic. He wanted to take things slow and feel your body on his, completely nude. Still, he can't ignore the delight in how you pull your soaked underwear to the side.

His cock twitches in your hand. After his tinkle, Hyunjin feels himself getting hard in your soft palms. He helps you over his dick with his hands on your waist, slowly lowering you to his length. 

Everything is so easy, so perfect when his tip breaches your walls. There's not an ounce of pain as he fills you up. You shiver and place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. "Mmm so good," you moan. "Deeper."

Hyunjin complies eagerly, shoving the remaining inches of his cock. It nestles snugly in your cunt, the head kissing your cervix. As much as you would like to bounce on him, you stay sitting fully on his dick. You want to feel how the curve of him hits every spot within you. How your walls tighten and squeeze around his unfamiliar girth.

It's only when you've begun dripping that you move upwards. A few inches of Hyunjin's length slip out before you slide back down. He slides effortlessly in you, stretching you wonderfully. 

Hyunjin can't decide whether he wants to look at your face or where your bodies connect. He loves watching his cock disappear in you as you ride him, but he also loves your fucked out expression. How your mouth hangs open to moan uncontrollably, the way your nose scrunches when he thrusts his hips upwards, how your eyes look into his so dreamily. 

"Fuck," Hyunjin groans. This might not have been the ideal way he wanted to make love, but he'll forever save the image in his mind. Imprint the feeling of your body on his. He'll immortalize this moment in a painting.

Both of you are too tipsy to properly fuck into each other. Your thrusts are sloppy and they don't match. Sometimes you have to stay hovering while he grinds upwards to you. The sounds of his thighs clapping against the back of yours echo in the house.

You throw back your head when he decides to use you to his liking. He bounces you on his cock like a fleshlight, eyes crazed. With your throat exposed to him, he can't help but lean forward to bury his face into your neck. 

Without warning, he bites down. You cry out from the sensation, feeling his teeth pierce your flesh. The saltiness of your skin settles on his tongue and the primal taste makes his hips move rougher.

A warm sensation builds quickly in your stomach, and you find yourself flooding before you can comprehend it. The familiar pale yellow liquid spurt from your cunt, and sprays all over his lower stomach. 

Hyunjin laughs tiredly upon feeling the liquid stream out of you. He pulls his head back and looks down, seeing the mess. "Looks like I wasn't the only one who needed to go."

You babble incoherently, jumble 'sorrys' and 'don't stop.'

He chuckles again and focuses his attention back on your dripping cunt. The extra warmth and wetness only push Hyunjin closer to the edge. His grip tightens on your hips and he drives into you. His balls tense and his cock twitches, and for a moment he thinks about pulling out. 

But the way you're helplessly letting him use you and looking at him so endearing makes it seem as though you might get upset if he pulls out. So he doesn't, and he buries his cock to the base as he cums inside. 

You thought it was impossible for you to feel wetter, but you're proven wrong. Hyunjin's cum shoots itself deep inside to claim you. You feel gravity pull his arousal down and out of your pussy, dripping onto his thighs and the couch. 

Tiredly, you collapse on his chest. His arms wrap around you and pull you close, peppering your neck and cheek with kisses. Both of you find solace in each other's embrace, giggling and giving open mouth kisses carelessly. It doesn't take long for the cum and piss to get uncomfortable.

Both of you decide a thorough shower is much needed... and maybe another round.

a/n: this was pretty fun to write! little secret for ya'll, men can't piss during sex (unless they have a medical condition) so that's why I had him soft to pee. but tbh we need more skz soft penis appreciation. if you're with me say 'i'

[causeilikelix]

always thinking abt thigh riding with (dom)felix 😭 like his deep ass voice saying degrading and teasing things omg 🧎‍♀️

UGHH yes please I need. He's got such great thighs dlsfkjsdljk

Like it would probably start off innocently enough. He's a sweetheart, as we all know, but that's definitely NOT what he's like when he gets horny.

SMUT under the cut. Minors DNI!

WARNINGS: Hard!Dom Felix (I think?), afab reader, thigh riding, one ass slap, name calling (slut, princess, baby, things of that nature), dacryphilia (?), orgasm denial (?), teeny bit over overstimulation, actions take place in a public place but no one gets caught

Like, maybe you came to visit him at the studio one night because he's practicing late. He's got a concert coming up and he has to practice his solo stage! But he works so hard.

You'd bring him coffee and a snack and you'd just stare at him while he ate. He's all sweaty and his hair is sticking to his face and it's just... so hot (I'm a Black Hair Felix supremacist so that's what I'm imaging lol)

Before you know it, you're crawling over to him and capturing his lips in a kiss. You don't even care that he tastes like coffee and sweat. He grunts into the kiss but kisses you back before you know it.

"Missed me much?" Felix chuckles

"So much." you press warm kisses down his neck.

"Why don't you show me then?" Felix's deep, tired voice made you throb.

You crawl into his lap and he spreads his legs to accommodate you. Your knees on either side of his slim waist, his hands on your ass, the heavy breathing while you make out. It's not long before you're grinding down on his clothed cock.

He shouldn't be so surprised that you want him, he's basically wearing lingerie. Gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Fuck, you want to stain them so that he's reminded of you every time he looks at them for the rest of the night.

"Get on my thigh, princess," Felix commands as if he can hear your thoughts. You follow his wishes and straddle one of his thighs. He pushes your skirt up and tsks at you. "You didn't come here just to bring me food, did you? What kind of slut wears this sorry excuse for underwear to the studio?"

Felix tugs at the flimsy thong that does almost nothing to cover you. you moan when the elastic snaps against your skin.

"Ride my thigh, princess. Prove that your slutty hole deserves my cock." Felix grips your hips and shoves your core onto his thigh.

You start moving instantly. The fabric of his sweatpants creates a warm friction that shoots up into your core. You moan as you work your core along his thigh. He grips your hips tightly and leans his head back to watch you lose yourself.

"Fuck, baby, this must have been what you wanted the whole time. Can't go a single night without thinking about my cock in you?" Felix chides. You shake your head, barely able to form a coherent thought. Pleasure sparks through your body with every grind. Your core clenches around nothing.

You whine and work yourself harder against him.

"There's absolutely nothing in your little brain right now except wanting to cum. You must want my cock that badly, huh?" Felix muses. His eyes are dark and hooded as he watches you shake above him.

"Want your cock!" you cry, burying your face in his neck as you get closer and closer to your high.

"Make yourself cum on my thigh first, princess, then maybe I'll consider giving your slutty hole what it wants, yeah? Gotta make sure my cocksleeve is wet enough to take me." Felix rasps in your ear. He palms himself through his sweats in order to get a little more worked up.

"W-wet enough! Want your cock now!" You beg wetly against his ear, pressing kisses on his favorite spot to try and entice him.

"You sure are soaking through my sweatpants, babe," Felix chuckles darkly, "Maybe I should make you stop. Keep you empty and desperate while I practice a little more."

"No!" Tears pricked at your eyes at the thought of stopping. You worked yourself harder against him to urge your high to come quicker. "Please! Need you, baby, need to cum for you."

"Need me? Desperate slut." Felix landed a stinging slap to your ass. He rubbed his palm over the red mark soothingly. "Should I make you stop? Dance a little more and watch you touch yourself? Do you think you could cum without me?"

"No! No I can't cum without you." You sobbed into his neck. He gripped your hips to work you against him harder. "Wanna come for you, just you! Want you to fill my holes all the time."

"That's right, princess, you can only cum with my help. Your little brain is just waiting for me to tell you to cum, that's why you can't now." Felix chides.

It's true. You can taste your orgasm in the back of your throat. Your stomach senses it approaching. Your thighs shudder with anticipation. But you can't fall over the edge. There's something holding you back.

"Please, please can I cum!"

"Fine. Cum on my thigh, princess, make a mess."

That's all it takes. Your thighs clamp around his and you let out a keening moan. Felix forces you to keep grinding on his thigh despite the bite of overstimulation. Your high washes over your body, making you shake in Felix's hold.

After a few minutes, your high wanes and you slump against his chest. Your breath heaves as you try to get some much needed oxygen from your pussy to your brain. Felix gently rubs your back and pulls your skirt back down to offer you some decency. He presses soft kisses on your cheek and neck wherever he can reach.

"Feel better?"

"Still want your cock," you mumble into his neck.

"Yeah? Then ride me, baby."

[magicalella]

Hi all!! For those of you who don’t know me, My name is Ella Griffin, I’m a 24 year old trans woman based in south florida. For the last four years, I’ve been working on a super special project that I’m beyond thrilled to share with you all: my debut novel, The White Liar. As a big fan of fantasy books, I’ve felt for a long time that there’s a serious lack of authentic trans representation in the genre. For years, I yearned for even just one iconic transfem hero in a high fantasy setting. The White Liar is my attempt to fill that gap in the literary canon.

As a bit of background, I am a massive fan of hard fantasy books with an epic scope and in-depth magic systems; such as Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere books or Ursula Le Guin’s Earthsea series. I’m also a big fan of gothic literature and character-driven classics like Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables and Anna Karenina, all of which have played an influence on this book. The White Liar’s setting is heavily inspired by celtic folklore, mythology and history with a feminist twist.

It’s a world where fae creatures range from tiny glowing insectoids to massive flying mounts and even humanoid beings. Yet, even the tiniest of these has the potential to unlock unfathomable magical potential through the art of Serimancy! Serimancy, the primary magic system of the book, gives users the ability to transmute or ‘spin’ the silk made by fae creatures into supernatural strength, telekinetic threads, and twelve other distinctive powers. Think Rumplestiltskin spinning straw into gold, but more vaporwave.

Without giving too much away, the book features a diverse cast of characters from all different backgrounds, including transfem, transmasc, nonbinary, aspec and disabled characters, although those aspects don’t always define their motives or character arcs. Mainly, The White Liar is a book about the nature of truth and identity; the ways in which our environment affects how we perceive those things, and the friction that creates with our own perception.

I would also characterize the book as a gaslamp fantasy like the Mistborn series or the video game Lies of P, with a baroque/art nouveau-meets-Bridgerton 19th century aesthetic. I’m a 100% independent author with a summary $0 budget publishing through kindle direct, and flat broke, so I would highly appreciate any and all support with this project, be it word of mouth or otherwise. The cover art is a digital painting created entirely by me and is canon to the book!

Thank you so, so much for giving me your time and attention. This book is my love letter to the queer community and I truly hope someone somewhere finds it hopeful or inspiring like I’ve found with the works that inspire me.

The White Liar is available now on E-book here:

[nightwriter357]

Hiya! I really love your writing and I was wondering if one of your next Damien imagines could be about the reader having a night mare that something bad happened to Damien and maybe he died and then they wake up and immediately rush to his house to make sure he’s okay and somewhere in there is a love confession? (You may add smutty content should you want too lol)

Hiii! Thank you so so much. I'm sorry for taking such a long time to reply. To my own surprise there's no smut in this one 😅

I hope you like it ✨

A nightmare before Haas

You were wet with sweat and your breathing was heavy. All you could remember was clasping his lifeless hand in yours, screaming, crying. Your hand fumbled around the bed trying to get to your phone. You lifted the covers, ripped off the sheets, where the fuck is it?

You flopped on the ground, trying to check under the bed. Sure enough, there it was, as far back as it could be. You crawled under to get it, turned it around to check the screen. There was no message, no message from him. The last text was from earlier today, “Be there soon.”

So we did meet up last night? Your memory was a bit hazy. A part of you knew better; he's not really hurt, you met him last night and had a bad dream about him getting hurt and... you still had to know for sure.

You grabbed a robe and ran outside. He lived close to you, just a short walk and you would be there to see, know that he's okay. As you walked, you tried to hold the robe together, the night air was cold but your body seemed to get warmer as the thoughts raced through your head, almost as if they created a friction within you.

The rain was pouring outside, completely soaking you before you managed to get to your car. You felt too rushed to start a playlist from your songs, so you just turned the radio on, hoping the sound would drown out some of your thoughts. "Murder on the Dance Floor"—you changed the station. "Burning for You"—you changed it again. "Bleeding Love"—okay, that’s IT.

You turned the radio off, but somehow the silence still felt too loud. You had to see him, touch him, know that he’s okay.

As you sat in the car for a moment, the rain pelting down, you could see the faint light coming from Damien's window. Relief started to mix with the anxiety, but your heart was still pounding. What if he was hurt inside? What if he needed you?

You rushed out and ran to the door, your soaked robe clinging to your body. Your hand hesitated for just a second before you pounded on the door, breathless. You had to see him.

“Damien, please,” you whispered to yourself, shivering from the cold and your thoughts.

Moments later, you heard the door unlock, and it creaked open.

Damien stood there, his hair tousled from sleep, blinking in confusion. “Y/n? What the hell—are you okay?” His voice was groggy but concerned as he quickly scanned over your drenched form.

You were so overcome with emotion that you didn’t say anything at first. Instead, you threw yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest. The tears came, unexpected and overwhelming.

Damien’s arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close despite the cold dampness soaking into his shirt.

“Hey, hey, what happened?” His hand moved to the back of your head, gently stroking your hair. “Why are you out here like this?”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your breathing still uneven. “I... I thought... I had this nightmare... you were...” The words caught in your throat, the vivid image of his lifeless body still fresh in your mind. You felt ridiculous for even saying it, but the fear was too real.

His expression softened, concern etched in every line of his face. “I’m right here. I’m okay,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheek.

“I know it was just a dream, but I needed to see you, needed to know you were okay.” Your voice cracked as you clung to his warmth, your body trembling, not just from the cold, but from everything you had bottled up for so long.

He guided you inside, the warmth of his house wrapping around you like a blanket. "You're freezing." His voice was soft but firm as he led you toward the couch.

You nodded,  your mind racing as you clutched the robe tighter around you. “I—I’m sorry for showing up like this. I must look ridiculous.” Your voice was shaky, the weight of everything starting to sink in as you sat down.

Damien grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it around your shoulders, his hands gentle but steady. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m just worried about you. What happened?”

“I thought—I thought you were dead,” you blurted out, your voice catching as the emotions of the nightmare flooded back. “It felt so real, Damien. I saw you, and you were just... gone. I kept holding your hand, but you wouldn’t wake up, and I—" You took a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself but failing. “I didn’t even think. I just ran out of the house, I didn’t grab anything, I just—I couldn’t stand it.”

Damien crouched down in front of you, his eyes wide with concern. “I’m okay. I’m right here, see?” He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “It was just a bad dream.”

“I know it was,” you continued, the words spilling out faster than you could stop them. “But it didn’t feel like it, Damien. It felt like I lost you, and I couldn’t—I can’t lose you. I care about you too much. I love you so much. I didn’t even realize how much until tonight and the thought of not—”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you realized what you had just said. The confession hung in the air between you, and you could feel your face flushing hot despite the cold rain still dripping from your hair. You hadn't even meant to say it, but now it was out, raw and unfiltered.

Damien stared at you, clearly taken aback, his expression shifting from confusion to something softer, warmer.

“You... you love me?” His voice was quiet, almost tentative, like he was trying to make sure he’d heard you right.

Your face flushed, and you tried to backpedal, your voice faltering. “I—I don’t love you.. so much.”

Damien chuckled, clearly entertained, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ouch,” he said with a teasing grin. “So, you don’t  love me so much?”

You groaned, utterly flustered. “That’s not what I meant! I mean, I do love you...?” You trailed off, your words sounding more like a question.

Damien’s smile widened as he raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me if you love me?”

You blinked, realizing how ridiculous you sounded. “Ugh, I don't know what I'm doing or saying or thinking. I'm just so.. so cold you know? That does things to a person”

“You need to get that robe off,” Damien said with a concerned frown. “Come on, you're freezing”

You gripped the robe tightly, panic flashing through your mind. "No, it’s... I’m good.”

Damien raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “You’re shivering, and I can literally hear your teeth chattering.”

You shook your head, feeling your face flush again. “I can’t. I’m... I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

Damien blinked in surprise before a teasing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “So, you show up at my door in the middle of the night, naked, soaking wet, and give me a love confession?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god, this is a disaster,” you muttered. “I didn’t mean to say any of that.”

He chuckled softly, stepping closer and gently pulling your hands away from your face. “Hey, it’s not a disaster. In fact, I think it’s... kind of perfect.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked up at him, surprised by the warmth in his eyes. “Perfect?”

“Yeah” Damien said softly, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. “Except you didn’t even give me a chance to tell you that I love you, too.”

Your breath hitched. “You... you do?”

He nodded, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin, warming you from the inside out. “ I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now. You’re... you’re incredible, you know that? You make everything brighter by just being around.”

Your heart fluttered as he continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I love the way you’re always there for people, how you make me laugh without even trying. And the way you show up, no matter what—like tonight. I love how... easy it feels when I’m with you, like I don’t have to pretend to be anything but myself.”

You blinked up at him, still trying to process everything.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is...” He smiled, his eyes soft as they searched yours. “I want to be with you.”

Your chest felt tight in the best possible way, his words sinking in, making you feel lighter and more connected to him than ever before.

“Damien...” You whispered, tears threatening to spill again, but this time, they weren’t from fear—they were from the overwhelming warmth his confession brought.

He leaned in, his forehead gently resting against yours, his breath warm as he whispered, “I love you.”

A soft, shaky laugh escaped you as you whispered back, “I love you, too.”

For a moment, the world outside disappeared, and it was just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of his house and each other’s confessions. His hand moved to gently lift the blanket off your shoulders, and he offered a playful grin.

The room felt smaller now, as if the air between you was charged with something unspoken. Damien’s hand brushed your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes, the space between you barely there.

Your heart raced in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears. You were close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him, his breath mingling with yours. Your mind spun, half in disbelief that this was happening, the other half desperately hoping it would.

Neither of you moved at first, both caught in the pull of the moment. His forehead gently rested against yours, and the softness in his gaze made you feel like you were teetering on the edge of something inevitable.

“You feel that too, don’t you?” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your lips.

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat. His hand moved to cup your cheek, and just like that, the tension snapped

The first touch of his lips was gentle, testing, as if he wasn’t sure you were real. It sent a spark through you, igniting a warmth deep in your chest. His hand on your cheek held you steady, but everything else around you seemed to blur, leaving only him.

As the kiss deepened, the hesitation faded. Damien's other hand slipped around your waist, pulling you closer to his warm body, and you responded, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own, a quiet reassurance that you weren’t dreaming.

When he pulled back, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting together. His smile was soft and genuine, and you could see the warmth in his eyes that matched the fluttering in your chest.

“Wow,” he breathed, still so close. “That was...”

“Yeah,” you whispered, a smile breaking across your face as you relished the moment. “That was.”

Damien chuckled lightly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Now... We need to get you out of those wet clothes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing as you finally felt like everything was falling into place. “Yeah, that does sound like a two man job.”

He grinned, heading toward his bedroom to grab you something dry. “I know just the guy.”

[soapssuds]

jing yuan x fem!reader

warnings | smut , tit-fucking. slight man-handling & dom!jing yuan

He was depraved, he was sure of it. There was no other way to describe what he was, who he was, and how he was acting in this very moment.

It had been a long and tiresome day at the divination commission and all he could think about and look at was you. You worked with the commission closely, and your uniform was as tight as ever. It would be no secret that many would stare at you, admire you, and undress you with their eyes from afar.

Jing Yuan should know because he was doing the same thing. He would always find himself wondering how you even got the uniform, but then would remember that he was the one who ordered you to wear it. Even being extra sure to give you a size that was a bit too small and would accentuate your tits and thighs more.

And, unlike the others who always ogled you, you belonged to him. You both have been married for some time now, so he made it clear to you how he was feeling throughout the day. Accidental caressing. Soft kisses on the cheek or on the lips. Or how he ordered you to fuck yourself on his fingers during a meeting he had (it wasn't an in person meeting, mind you. he just had to show up as a hologram. That's all.). And god did he enjoy how you would bite your hand to keep yourself quiet as you would rock against his deft digits that would dig and plunge deep into your cunt. Your walls squeezing his fingers as he would hit, curl, and scissor all the right places.

And now that night fell the Luofu, all the workers of the divination commission had clocked out. All except for two which just so happened to Jing Yuan and you, his lovely spouse.

"Fuck! Keep them together!"

He ordered you easily. Forcing you on your knees as you pressed your tits together as best as you could as he rutted his hips against your chest. His breathy moans echoing into the room - loud and clear as his dick slid between the tight valley that your breasts created for him.

He moaned at the sudden sensation as you helped work his dick. Pushing your tits impossibly tight around his cock.

You dart your tongue out, letting it flick against the head of his cock at each upward thrust. He couldn’t control his hips by this point, his movements becoming slightly jagged as he began humping against you harder than before. You began moving faster around his cock, syncing up with his thrusts.

Earlier, he thought you getting off on his fingers alone would be enough for the day. On how your cunt clenched each digit as he would curl, scissor, and stroke your inner walls, and massage all the right places. How you would roll and rock your hips, trying your best not to make a sound as he was still in a virtual meeting. But for fuck's sake. This was so much better, and he promised to himself that he would ravish you the moment you both get home.

You were struggling now to keep your hands tight around your cum covered breasts. Your grip loosening on each upward thrust he made, your tongue still trying to keep up. Jing Yuan needed more friction, craved it. In an instant, his hands let go of his desk. And instead rested his big hands atop your own, which were still trying to keep your tits pressed together. He squeezed you impossibly close around his cock, not even missing a beat in his thrusts. You whimpered at the sudden squeeze. You couldn't deny the fact that you loved this, craved it just as much as him.

"Feel that," he grunted, "I'm- I'm so close hah, and you better take it."

His words held a bit of a threat within them as you opened your mouth for him. His dick immediately leaving the slick valley of your breasts as he let go of your hands and went to grab your hair and force your mouth to wrap around his tip.

"Make me cum one more time and I promise that once we get home, it'll be all about you."

He glanced at the clock across from them, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.

He was depraved. He was sure of it.

"We're already past overtime. And I'm already getting tired, so you have five minutes to make me cum. Get to work."

[randomfoggytiger]

The Scully Family In-Depth (Part XXIV): Guardian Angels and Inverted Nativities

I was struck with the overt nativity symbolism while combing through this two-parter-- not as a direct religious comparison (a mother to an impossible child), but as a poignant antithesis to Scully, Mulder, and Emily's story.

(**Note**: A deep dive into the Scully family spanning A Christmas Carol and Emily can be found in this post here.)

EMILY, SCULLY, MULDER: A DISASTER IN THREES

When we first glimpse Emily, she is cradled in her father’s arms, silent and expressionless in the wake of her mother’s death. She locks eyes with Scully and refuses to look away, following her movements in that room, during Scully’s second visit, during the arrest of Mr. Sim, after the social worker van drives away, and in her hospital room: an intense, though bland, fixation. Emily, it seems, was beckoning Scully to her; and was perfectly content to be in her company while chaos was erupting around her. Although part of this has to do with Chris Carter’s characterization in A Christmas Carol-- which Spotnitz, Gilligan, and Shiban tone down in Emily-- the germ of that idea remains: in short, Emily quite blatantly chose Scully-- whether because she was obeying a supernatural or biological or other more normal and sacred impulse. 

This is important because of two reasons: 

That inclination sends her biological mother into a spiral of questions and doubts, which culminated in a fight for custody and willingness to leave the FBI to raise Emily. If she had not fought to adopt her, Scully wouldn't have been able to keep her safe during Emily’s final hours on Earth.

That inclination creates friction between Scully's intentions and Mulder's subdued resistance.

To set the scene: Scully has been avoiding the temptation to call her partner up to ask for help-- in fact, she bailed on the only phone call to his apartment and worked around him to get answers (Mulder’s friend Danny at the FBI-- not TLG, not Mulder himself.) On the one hand, we know she is conflicted and struggling with her infertility; but the struggle is greater-- much greater-- than she is letting on. As discussed in the previous part, she nearly breaks down in tears trying to convince the social worker to advocate for her: “--” Scully either found out she was infertile during her cancer treatments (but didn’t have the time or energy to abstract that fact into her reality) or she found out afterward (either before or after Mulder dodged-- intentionally or not-- her cheese platter in Detour.) And yet, she has not shared this burden with her partner nor (until Maggie applied a little pressure) with her family.

If this be the case, of course she would avoid Mulder’s calls: her sister’s voice eerily over the phone? A niece, she presumes, who is involved in a cover-up conspiracy? Everything would point, in Mulder’s mind, back to the Conspiracy; and Scully isn’t allowing herself to entertain that notion. But now, against her first inclination, she is left no choice but to call Mulder: Emily is her daughter, and that means she is a part of the Conspiracy with a capital ‘c’. “Well, how did she come into this world?” Scully asks when Mulder arrives; and avoids a direct response when he replies, “Have you asked yourself that?” Because no, she hasn’t-- hasn’t wanted to. 

And that’s the (not-so-subtle) subtext: everything, to Mulder, is the key to everything, to his quest for the truth. And where does that leave her, newly recovered and ready to let her walls down? She tried to change but he hadn’t: he’s still the same Mulder running after mothmen and trying to find answers about his sister. It’s the endless line again, it’s Never Again again, it’s a preemptive taste of a weekend tossed aside for crop circles.

The next big question is: where does this begin and end for Mulder? 

Over the course of ten days (according to this timeline), Mulder receives two phone calls: one Scully drops and another where she asks him down to be a character witness. But that, of course is not the full picture: his partner asks him down to be a character witness to adopt her daughter whose parents have been murdered and whose case she has been investigating without asking for Mulder's help. In short, he feels purposefully excluded and reduced to the boxes of "partner" and "character witness."

Mulder seemed secure in his brief appearance in A Christmas Carol: Scully was out of town, but she’d be back; and he’d get up to shenanigans in the meantime. 

Mulder shifted to being insecure, withdrawn, and downright fearful in Emily: not only had he, in his eyes, already lost his partner right from under his nose, but he might alienate her further because of the information he’d kept from her-- the fact he’d known about her infertility as far back as her early cancer diagnosis. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, Scully is calling him in as a character witness to win the adoption rights for her daughter; and all the facts he has to give are deemed unworthy of a normal court’s time. 

Lastly, he knows-- he just knows-- that something is off with Emily. If she is a product of Scully’s ova, there is no way on Earth that the Syndicate hasn’t tampered with her DNA. The clones he met in Memento Mori who called her and other MUFON abductees “our mothers” prove that to be the case. 

And he knows that Scully either doesn’t know or doesn’t want to know this. 

To Mulder, this spells disaster: Scully dropping out of the FBI and leaving him behind to raise a child that is most certainly half-human, half other. What is even more disastrous is that he doesn’t know how to react or respond to this situation: does he council her against the adoption? He can’t in good conscience. Does he support her decision to adopt, which would mean he supports her transfer from the X-Files department? Does he warn her of the consequences and dangers of trying to raise Emily? Yes. But does that change Scully’s mind? No. His hands are tied.

And how do his concerns and his fears factor into this dynamic? In short, how could a miraculous conception-- quote on quote-- spell disaster and doom for him, Scully, and Emily? 

MULDER ARRIVES

Emily opens on Mulder’s arrival at the children’s foster care center, a lone figure asking directions to where his partner and her daughter are. And that loneliness continues when he finds them: Mulder hangs back, observing Scully’s happiness and Emily’s complacency with dread. Already, Mulder is placed as an outsider-- more precisely, he is placing himself as an outsider by hanging back. 

Why is he hanging back? Why, specifically, is he hanging back from Scully and her daughter instead of embracing this?

Simply put, we know Mulder is bracing for disaster. And we also know that he is in no place in his life to make space for a family, to “settle down, have something approaching a normal life” (as Scully says a year or so later.) Put these two factors together,  mix them up with a child he suspects is the half-human result of his partner’s abduction, and Mulder has already set up sky-high brigades to protect himself. 

This is not new for him, either: after her remission, Mulder put barriers back in place between himself and Scully; and when she tried to explore their boundaries, poke them or topple them with a cheese platter in Detour, he purposefully muted his awareness and ran after monsters. And his decided, purposed avoidance of settling down or having a family or-- in short-- leaving the quest was a decision he’d made before Scully came into his life (one he stated decisively to her in The Jersey King.) It’s not until The Unnatural that Mulder realizes he can have both, that his goals won’t suffer by living just a little normally, enjoying life just a little bit. (And afterward, Scully approaches him for the IVF, post here.) 

Combine all of that together, and it explains why he nearly sags when seeing Scully smiling eagerly at her daughter-- a child, he tells her, that was never meant to be: his guard is up, and he's keeping a distance between himself and little Sim (and warning his partner to do the same) despite his kindness and gentleness, despite chasing leads and yelling threats to save her life. In short, he’s saving this girl for Scully, not himself. And because he loves Scully, truly loves her, he's willing enough to lose her for a child that was not meant to be. 

But Mulder is Mulder, and his partner and her daughter are Scullys: he puts on a brave face when Scully looks up at him from the floor, walks over, and tries to strike up a friendship with Emily. He then proves he’s a natural with kids, particularly shy ones: he asks what Emily what she’s coloring, waits for her answer, and makes an exaggerated Mr. Potato Head face to lower her guard. It cheers her up instantly, and makes Scully smile as well.

Another warning sign lights up for him right after: he notices Scully's cross around Emily's neck. His partner is already attached.

But what a conflicting brew of emotions that would be. He wore that cross during her abduction, while her ova were taken and her daughter-- who is now wearing it-- was created. It's a passing of the baton Maggie did for him in Ascension, one that must have stung a little for her as Scully distanced from her mother to draw closer to the work (and Mulder.) But Mulder is given no choice or prior warning (like the keychain in Alone): it's happened; and that connection between them has been made significant another, different way... for someone else.

When Scully insists, “I can protect her, too,” he persists: “And who’s going to protect you?” Despite his reasoning-- that both the Sims are dead to protect the Syndicate’s interests-- Scully replies, “I know. I-I’ve considered that. But I’ve also considered that there’s only one right thing to do.” Mulder doesn’t seem to agree: silently here, publicly in the judge’s chambers; but he supports her decision both times (just as he supports her decision to let Emily die.) 

“Why didn’t you call me sooner,” he asks, the same edge in his interrogation in Elegy. 

“Because I couldn’t believe it,” she answers, the same response as Elegy. 

Predictably, he is annoyed, irritated: he feels the step backward in their dynamic. When Scully states she called him to be a witness on her behalf, he (quietly) snaps, “And I should have declined.” Off her hurt expression, he softens and clarifies, “If I never want to see you hurt or harmed in any way.” 

Branching off of this conversation, the judge’s chambers reveal a deeply rooted psychological insight into Mulder’s character. He lays out the facts as he knows them-- the dangers and unanswered questions-- but states, in closing, “The fact that she can adopt this child-- her own flesh and blood-- is something I don’t feel I have the right to question and I don’t believe anybody has the right to stand in the way of.” ‘Her own flesh and blood’ and ‘the right to question’/‘right to stand in the way of’ are specifically coded in the language of Fate.

The irony, or serendipity, or fate, really-- and this two-parter is dripping in Fate, be it because of Emily’s miraculous birth or Melissa’s miraculous guidance or the lingering vestiges of Scully’s partner and late sister’s belief in Fate-- of Mulder being completely correct (that Scully will get hurt) and of Scully being completely correct (in the face of her family’s disbelief and her own desire to stay at the FBI) is beautifully tragic; and horribly marred by the Consortium's last spiteful maneuver (a coffin full of sand.) “No matter how much you love this little girl, she was a miracle that was never meant to be, Scully”-- that is the theme of A Christmas Carol and Emily. 

It’s not the first time Mulder has alluded to the concept of fate or its working in his and Scully’s life-- in fact, Mulder builds the identity of his quest on top of that concept of Fate (post here.) He lost his sister because of fate; but his fated, mythical quest will bring her back. His father played with the hand of fate and lost. The Consortium choose to tamper with Fate, taking it into their own hands; and Scully was taken and Emily born because of it. But it was Fate to bring mother and daughter back together; and he doesn’t see it as his right to step in the way of or prevent that fate. 

By contrast, Scully’s own beliefs are in direct opposition to Fate: she argues Mulder out of his own biases and beliefs, calls into questions the lies he chooses to believe in (or tells himself), and points out that she chooses to stay by his side, that she chooses to be his partner. “I wouldn’t put myself on the line for anybody but you” is a choice she made as far back as Season 1; and the FBI a choice she made farther back than even that. 

Emily is a wedge of in both systems: she was not fated to be, according to Mulder; but she is there and must be protected, leaving Scully no choice. The Consortium played with Fate, making themselves god, and created a life that had no purpose other than to die; and the Consortium ripped away Scully’s one choice by robbing her of the peace of burying her own daughter. 

(As an aside: this is why I’m so invested in Scully’s pregnancy in Requiem-Existence: William’s conception and birth was not an act of fate, but an act of freewill and choice. Scully chose to stay with Mulder in all things; and he was conceived that night-- according to Frank Spotnitz, post here. Season 8 played with the confusion of “Is this fate?” from all parties; and all parties were proven incorrect. Mulder and Scully’s baby wasn’t what anyone were predicting-- not some special, magical, or given-by-God-to-save-the-world figure. He was simply, and beautifully, normal. “But that doesn’t make him any less of a miracle, does it?” Mulder asks; and Scully agrees. He’s their miracle that they conceived and worked hard for and angsted over during the long, hard months that Fate tried to rip them apart forever. Free will, then, wins.)

After advocating for Emily’s adoption, Mulder waits for Scully on the Scully family couch, attention caught by the Nativity scene-- the same one that caught her attention in the previous episode (post here.) He fiddles with one of the wisemen-- again, breaking that direct comparison between his own ties to this story-- until his partner approaches; then he turns the figurine around and sits back as she approaches.

As touched on previously, the religious imagery filtering throughout these episodes-- the Nativity scene, Mulder pondering Joseph’s figurine, Scully's face fading out to the Virgin Mary's stained glass image-- serves to invert and pervert the Nativity story. More often than not, this episode is read through a ham-fisted, morally superior, distasteful parallel between Mary the Mother of Jesus and Scully’s surprise motherhood. The reality is, the narrative points of the Biblical story do not at all align with Scully or Mulder or Emily’s journey-- in fact, the latter three serve as its antithesis.  

Mulder is not only a man who feels excluded from this miracle but also one who chooses to avoid becoming a father figure. 

Scully is an expectant mother not through divine blessing for her strength of character but because of ruthless, corrupted, and inhumane interference. 

And Emily is a child who doesn’t see Scully as her mother, who staunchly holds her separate from her own beloved Mommy (“Mommy said no more tests.”) 

The writers themselves said they weren’t trying to set Scully up as the Virgin Mary incarnate, either (post here)-- the parallel was simply a Christmas one-- and I believe them. Because they wrote the true parallel between Tara and the Nativity, showing the display first by her side in A Christmas Carol. From then on, Scully and Mulder separately gazed or pondered or played with the Nativity as an unreachable, almost inconceivable notion-- because it is, for them. (For now, anyway, if you cosign canon after Je Souhaite.) 

“It takes two of us to get my sister-in-law in bed these days,” she says, explaining her length of absence and attempting to lighten the mood. 

Sincerely, Mulder asks, “When is she due?”

“Two weeks ago.” 

(Which means-- if the math maths correctly-- that the Scully family expected baby Matthew before Christmas; and since he hasn’t arrived, Maggie and Scully might have then expected to stay longer and help Tara and Bill transition into parenthood. Or maybe Maggie intended to stay and Scully to fly back. In any case, her almost panicky reaction to the baby kicking (mentioned in a previous post here makes more sense in context.) 

When the phone rings, Scully is almost afraid to answer it (sitting on the couch a few seconds longer than necessary as Mulder stares at her.) This time there is no voice, no “go to her Dana”, which would probably be more unsettling than her sister’s instructions, at this point. 

Emily Sim, they find, is deteriorating (Mulder, in fact, finds the green cyst on her neck); and both scoop her up and rush her to the hospital. It’s bad news after bad news (as he predicted.)

“Now, are you two the parents?” asks the doctor. 

Scully looks from him to Mulder, eyes troubled and almost pleading. When her partner notices, he tilts his head away, sags, and withdraws: this is her child, and her call. For Scully, this signals that he is not ready to commit further-- won't, in effect, join her in these new responsibilities; and feels the rejection like a blow. Although Mulder didn’t mean to reject her-- he thinks that she’s leaving the work (and him) to be a parent, something he can’t do; and now feels outside the circle of her decisions-- his meaning is clear. From now on, Scully feels she must battle for Emily’s life on her own, reliving the struggle and isolation of her diagnosis and treatment in Scanlon’s office. 

“How did you know?” Scully questions Mulder after Emily’s blood has incapacitated a doctor. He continues dancing the thin line between keeping information from her and telling her just enough, and the little he gives his partner weakens her resolve and sends her into a mild panic: “She’s just a little girl. You say that I can’t protect her, but I can’t let this be her life. Just a few days ago she was fine.” 

“She was also being treated,” he points out; and Scully’s eyes widen, more proof she is so rushed that she hasn’t considered this circumstance-- her daughter, the adoption, the Conspiracy-- from all angles.  

As Emily’s condition worsens, Scully keeps watch, knowing she has no real authority to save her daughter but hold onto what little foothold she has. The little girl, however, begins to resist: “Mommy said no more tests.” Again, an inverse of the Christmas story: a child drawing away from its biological mother.

Stung by the reality of their situation, she doesn’t deny Emily's statement, carefully deflecting, “We just want you to get better. That’s what these tests are about.” And with each test and each procedure, she has to endure worse and worse news: a tumorous infection, the doctor proclaims; a possible revocation of rights, the social worker warns. After storming against Emily’s possible removal, Scully relents to a quiet, “What do you want me to tell them you’re doing for her?” Pausing, she admits, “I don’t know yet. But I will”: active choice, Freewill, beginning to assert itself. During her daughter’s last round of tests, Scully gently talks her through the procedure. It seems to work, at first, before Emily starts screaming; and she rushes to try to both help and calm her down.

The last glimpse we have of the two together is of Emily near tears and Scully unable to soothe her completely. 

And where is Mulder while all this is going down? Hunting down and assaulting men that won't “Help that little girl!”, causing havoc and mayhem and disruption… and finding yet another Scully baby submerged, alive, in green goo (post here.) But he does not save this baby or any other baby there-- knows he cannot, now, with so much at stake-- but instead grabs a cure for Emily; and flees. 

Mulder is committed to protecting the innocent; and, though he fears how this will play out, he is willing to stand by Emily’s hospital bed (and Emily’s coffin)-- there for his partner, and for her daughter, as much as he can. It might not be in ways Scully needs from him, but it's the best he can do.

Unfortunately, Emily Sim slips into a coma before the cure can arrive. 

Scully is staring at her body, watching her breathe up and down, when Mulder rejoins. She is gutted, but accepting, knowing without having to ask what he’s thinking: “I’m okay, Mulder.” 

As they stand there together, she shares her resolution: “It’s what’s meant to be,” she says. Paths and purposes, saving a girl to deliver her up to death, guiding her from life into her sister’s arms in the afterlife. She was meant for the FBI, and Emily was meant for her for a short time; but both weren’t, ultimately, meant for each other. 

“But if you could treat her--” Mulder begins; and is shocked by her conviction. 

“I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t do it to her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mulder, whoever brought this child into this world didn’t intend to love her.” 

Surprised at her stability-- and trusting to it-- he carefully admits, “I think she was… she was born to serve an agenda.” His way of having her back, of saying “I would do the same thing.”

“I have a chance to stop that.” Face crumbling, she mourns, “You were right: this child was not meant to be.” 

Looking from Emily to his partner, he assures, “I’ll stay with you”; but Scully, still remembering his gun-shy distance, feels she must grieve this loss alone-- a loss she knows he sympathizes with, but hasn’t internalized for himself. And, despite Mulder’s growth since the early days of their partnership (post here), she is right.

“I think I’d like to be alone,” she requests, casting her watery eyes up for understanding. And as rejected and dejected as he feels, he understands. 

Mulder retreats without telling her about the cure, sparing her the moral quandary of second guesses-- knowing his partner well enough to know she would doubt herself and revive Emily, only to watch her die a second time. 

Alone, Scully climbs into Emily’s bed, cuddling up against her daughter. The scene transitions to a stained-glass window of the Virgin Mary-- another mother doomed to lose her child to the cruelty of others; one with, however, a happier ending-- as the girl quietly passes away.

Alone, Scully sits in the church, withdrawn. But alone no longer: Mulder wanders in, last but not least; and surprises (and amuses) his partner with flowers he'd bought for Emily, determined to do this right. He may be a man who doesn’t see the value in convention, who remembers birthdays in dog years, and who kisses hands one day and runs off to the woods the next; but he is also a considerate soul who understands these conventions are meaningful for other people-- for his partner, most of all. 

“Who are the men who would create a life whose only hope was to die?” Scully questions, seeking the truth from the only one who will give her that truth. 

“I don’t know.” Seeing the pain in her face, he reassures, “But that you found her… and you had a chance to love her…. Maybe she was meant for that, too.” Melissa would certainly agree. 

“She found me,” Scully replies; and, again, this draws me back to my earlier theory on Emily’s psychic prescience (post here): in each dream, Emily made herself known; in each run-in, Emily sought her out with her eyes; at each step of the way, Emily looked up to her like a guardian angel-- her rescuer. And, in turn, Emily rescues Scully, as well (All Souls.) 

There is no evidence of Calderon’s work, Mulder explains; and Scully quickly realizes, “There is evidence.” Walking up to the coffin, she stands before Mulder’s bouquet, shooting him a shaky last side glance before raising the lid; he, in turn, pivots away, unable to stomach what he suspects she will find. 

And there is nothing but sand; nothing but second guesses. Scully concludes, as the episode’s opener, “It begins where it ends, in nothingness. A nightmare born from deepest fears, coming to me unguarded, whispering images unlocked from time and distance. A soul unbound, touched by others but never held. A course charted by some unseen hand. The journey ahead promising no more than my past reflected back upon me-- until at last I reach the end. Facing a truth I can no longer deny: alone, as ever.” 

Season 5 was, as I’ve previously discussed, a rough season for Mulder (post here), but the loneliness and guilt and indecision that molds to Scully will not be torn from her until All Souls, and then only under more painful, more disharmonious circumstances. 

ALL SOULS AND ALL THINGS

All Souls begins and ends with Scully’s confession, the doubts kicked up from A Christmas Carol-Emily doubled and tripled in the two-fold issue of religious uncertainty and biased doubt from her partner.

This episode, for Scully, does not end kindly: she must make peace with Emily’s loss, and let her go; and she must begin a serious battle with her own abilities-- is she helping anyone? Can she help anyone? Emily died, Mulder’s struggling, her resolve is cracking. Soon The Pine Bluff Variant will play on that distance, and Diana Fowley will swoop in to exploit it. Soon the office will burn; and, in spite of all her efforts, Scully will feel like she failed herself, her partner, and their work. Soon, she will embrace him as he stands in transfixed horror, unable to reciprocate back. 

All Souls is set up to break and subvert the patterns the previous two-parter set up, just as that two-parter set up just to subvert the Nativity scene: Scully calls Mulder for help from the get-go, but he dodges her call; Mulder sneers at rather than investigates other possibilities; and Mulder comforts her about seeing Emily in a vision but believes she is allowing herself to be compromised on a case. At least in Emily, Mulder knew the answers (or suspected them), and advocated for her exactly how and when she needed him to. What she recounted, he confirmed; what she guessed, he affirmed; what she grieved, he comforted with larger concepts like Fate. But here, Mulder is detached-- religion and its religious superstitions and beliefs are such an ugly concept to him that he gave no credence to Scully’s visions and tried to talk her down from her intuition instead of supporting her in crisis.  Mulder is proving, again and again, that he has not changed from the ditch in Detour-- and, moreover, that he can’t: this year, he’s just trying to keep his head above water. Like I’ve mentioned before, Scully has changed, Scully has grown, Scully is working to lower her shields… but over and over, she finds that Mulder is not ready for that vulnerability and avoids it: “Have you ever thought seriously about dying?” she asks in Detour, and chuckles-- at the time-- over his flippant “Only once, at the Ice Capades” response. 

But All Souls also provides an interesting flip in her relationship to Emily-- i.e. mother and daughter reverse roles. Like Scully had last Christmas, Emily is there to save vulnerable children and guide them to a better afterlife. And like Scully, she has accepted, in death, that her role on this Earth wasn’t “meant to be”: she pleads with Scully, “Mommy, please, let me go.” 

It’s striking, then, that Emily becomes the spiritual medium instead of Melissa. I understand why it was written that way-- Scully connects her sacrifice and Emily’s death to the church, and her faith, to bring her comfort. (And I don’t think Melissa Scully would be too keen to dabble around with Catholic mythologies.) It’s even more striking that Emily becomes the only truth Scully clings to or believes in: no one else, be it deeply entrenched priest or well-researched paranormal partner, believes in her eyewitness accounts. (Or, in Mulder’s case, does… but suggests it’s born from outside manipulation.) 

This episode is yet another ouroboros: Scully her only witness, Scully her only source of strength-- a pattern that began in Beyond the Sea and loops back around and around until she puts it to rest in all things. And there's another parallel: Melissa acting as her conscience and guardian angel; Emily acting as her literal conscience and guardian angel. It was Scully herself who spotted the physical similarity between the two; and the narrative continues to connect that similarity to Scully's emotional growth.

“You believed you were releasing her soul to Heaven?”  the confessor asks after Scully admits to a fourth girl's death.

“I felt sure of it,” she says, tears brimming. 

“But you still can’t reconcile this belief with the physical fact of her death?”

“No. I thought I could, Father, but I can’t.” 

“Do you believe there is a life after this one?”

“Yes.” 

“Are you sure?” 

She stops, confused; and doesn’t answer. Second-guesses, doubts, and an inability to know her own conscience: all bubbling to the fore, once again. The ouroboros.

“Has it occurred to you that-- maybe this, too, was part of what you were meant to understand?”

“You mean accepting my loss?” 

“Can you accept it?” 

Tears trickling down her cheek, Scully trembles out, “Maybe that’s what faith is.” 

Her journey of faith has always been fraught (will continue to be so, post here) but Scully is mistaking belief in faith as an acceptance of loss-- a loss which she believes to be a punishment. She is afraid of attaching to others, has been since as a little girl; and that has driven her to and from God in different moments of extremis.  

Further, the struggle to be always in the dark, to never fully understand, is not one she gives much thought to… if she doesn’t have to face it, alone. However, Mulder-- her backup-- has been drifting aimlessly in recent months; and, because her own family can’t completely understand the strange horror of her reality, there is only one person left to lean on: her faulty perception of God. 

Why can’t Scully accept and believe what Emily has asked of her-- to let her go-- when she believed and accepted that truth when her daughter was dying? Because her conviction was shattered when she saw Emily’s coffin filled with sand: a spit in the face to her deliberate choice and hard-won decision. She has lost faith in herself; and the one person who she relies on-- as she admitted in Irresistible and Elegy-- for strength (inadvertently) withheld that comfort and support in All Souls, shattering it further. 

And the reality is, Mulder withdrew in All Souls because he was afraid of her (as he perceived) blind faith. Mulder himself is in desperate straits; and the thought that he could lose Scully-- to adoption (Emily), to a belief in aliens (The Red and the Black), to a wackier belief in God and angels and demons (All Souls)-- scares him to death and stirs up his distance or anger. While they were working towards a common goal in the cancer arc, neither needed to feel out-of-sync in their partnership, or question her nosebleeds, or withdraw from each other (more than their normal withdrawal parameters.) But now? Now, they’re completely out-of-sync-- Scully two steps ahead, doubting her progress, doubling back; and Mulder slouching, slumping, then sliding down a wall. 

THE GREAT CHANGE

What sets them right? 

Mulder’s confession in Fight the Future (post here) is mandatory to the shift from Season 5-- his dissipation and disbelief; her discouragement and lack of self-esteem-- to Season 6-- her assuredness and slow-build to loneliness; his wobbles forward into embracing a life on this planet with his touchstone. (I also recommend my meta on their Season 6 push-and-pull, post here, to understand why both had a lighter tone and higher confidence compared to last season.)  

TLDR: Scully was walking-- “You never needed me, Mulder. I just held you back”-- because she felt useless and worthless. Mulder was forced to battle with his own fear and insecurity or lose her forever; and, clutching his courage, chased her into the hall and tried his best to convince her to stay: by telling her, honestly, how much he truly needed her. 

CONCLUSION

Emily Sim was not meant to be; just as Scully was not meant to leave the files, nor Mulder to set aside his mission and walk away with them. Her birth, her life, and her death were a circumstance forced by a tampering with Fate-- the antithesis to Scully's freewill.

While Mulder rules his life by Fate-- parroting its principles, enshrining his quest and his losses in those terms-- Scully rules hers by choice: it is her choice to join the FBI, her choice to stay, and her choice to leave when she chooses (e.g. Season 8-- to be discussed in future.) Without her, Mulder’s life would become chaotically imbalanced, thrown about on every whim that promised to satisfy, toyed with by every voice that sold him lies; and without him, she would be confused and lose faith in herself and her choices.

This child was not meant to be... but what about those that were? That is a meta for another time~.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[mrsportgas]

Ghost Ridders Chapter.6

PLEASE THIS IS +18, Pure Smut. You are warned.

#Summary: Eight years ago, you were taken against your Will to Mary Goise to become the new slave of Saint Roswald, or rather, to living a hell on earth. One day, while you go with  him on a visit to a New World´s  island in the New World, but a familiar face appears. This creates the perfect opportunity for you to escape, join the Whitebeard Pirates, and discover more about your past, your abilities, and who you really are. All  while you try to endure your new crewmate, Portgas D. Ace, who is incredibly annoying... or perhaps incredibly irresistible? You haven't decided yet.

This story is based in the world of One Piece, with the same characters and timeline. Of course, this story is fiction created by me. Some of the timelines, names, and characters might be the same, also some names, characters, stories, or even personalities may be altered. The story is happening pre-time skip, while strawhats are in sabaody for the first time.

The first chapter is an introduction to the current story, which begins with Ace as your central romance. (This romance may shift to other characters as the story progresses, but don't worry, there's still plenty of Ace to come.) The story is written in first person. Female gender, Y/N, but feel free to change the gender, name, or anything else that makes you more comfortable.♡

Previous Chapter

My heart started to race. Ace reached my neck, giving small kisses and nibbles, sucking on every part. His fingers moved quickly over my body until they settled between my thighs, and while he ran his fingers along the cloth of my underwear, he lifted his head and his eyes met mine "If there's anything you don't like, just tell me."

I responded by nodding, focusing as much as I could. Because the heat that was beginning to form in my stomach was the only thing i could think of.

Ace started kissing me again with passion while he teased my heated core with his fingers. We were both moaning like crazy. He pushed my underwear aside, moving to my bare cunt, and quickly reaching my clit.

"Wow, pretty, you're so wet already. Is that all for me?" he said with a mischievous smile.

Without giving me time to respond, he slipped one of his fingers inside me. The sensation was pleasurable. Ace didn’t make wrong movements; he knew exactly how to move his fingers, where all the weak spots were, and how to touch me precisely to drive me to ecstasy. He inserted a second finger into me, causing the pleasure to intensify more and more, drawing another groan from my lips.

"Ace!" I moaned as my eyes reached for his. Ace pulled his lips away from mine while groaning and pressed his forehead against mine as I rode the approaching orgasm. "Does that feel good? Hmm?". He took his time there, taking care of every inch of my insides.

Suddenly, he stopped, pulling out his fingers, and with both hands, grabbed my face, kissing me fiercely.

"Y/N…" -My name sounded so good in his mouth that another small moan escaped my lips. The truth was that Ace rarely said my name, and I loved hearing it whenever it came from him, but it seemed he preferred to call me silly nicknames.- "You’re going to have to get on top of me, or the blanket won’t cover you properly."

I got up and removed the blanket to reposition myself, and without thinking, I also took off my underwear, leaving my body naked and exposed. His eyes, like magnets, followed my movements, scanning my entire body.

"You're beautiful,"- Ace said as he watched me and placed one of his arms behind his head to lean against the wall. My cheeks burned, and embarrassment took over as I realized I was completely exposed to him, but the needy feeling keep me going.

I sat on top of him, covering both of us with the blanket. Ace ran his hands all over my body, searching for my hips while he kissed me wiht lust, rolling his hips hard into my core, seeking for friction.

He moved his hand back to my clit, massaging it in small circles, the other hand grabbed one of my breasts, bringing his mouth to it and licking it gently as I noticed how his erection was now pretty tight under his towel.

I was a moaning mess, and Ace knew exactly where to touch me, but I needed something more. "Ace… I need more… I need you…" I managed to say, stuttering between that sea of moans.

Ace's face broke into one of his big cocky smiles. "Oh yeah? You’ve been good to me, hmm?" he said, laughing. "You're a brat," I retorted. He leaned into my ear and chuckle, "Princess, I'll give you everything you ask for and you know that." And with that, he untied his towel, letiting it fall under his legs. My heart fluttered at his words and for sure I was starting to develop feelings for him.

He was huge and hard, even though I had barely touched him. I sit up on his lap, lining up against each other.

He starts to rock inside me slowly; the mixture of pain and pleasure was taking over my body, but pleasure and desire were the only things I could think of.

He reached the bottom, and our heavy breathings increased with the anticipation of what was about to happen. Giving me time to adjust, Ace placed his hand on my cheek, caressing my lips. "You're so tight… you drive me crazy, you know?"

He positioned both hands on my hips, holding me with strength and firmness, guiding me in a slow motion over his member. Moans escaped my mouth as he slid smoothly, kissing my cervix each time. And each time, reaching my sweet spot.

I started to pick up the pace. Ace held me with one hand while the other roamed all over my body. His muscular chest glistened with the sweat running down his skin as we both increased the speed more and more.

We had both let the blanket fall to the floor, absorbed in our activity.

He starts rubbing my clit, and I ran my hands through his hair, gripping it. "Cum with me, babe," he said, and my thigts began to shake as my body lost control from the approaching climax. I could feel his cock twitching with pleasure inside me too. We were both on the verge of reaching our peak. The sound of our bodies colliding grew faster and faster, and the room filled with our moans. I could already feel my orgasm building quickly in the pit of my stomach, deep down. Ace must have sensed it too because he pulled me as close to him as possible with both hands, and with his lips on mine, he whispered, "Be mine."

The orgasm hit, coursing through my entire body as I came all over Ace's cock, which made him cum too, filling me up with his own release. Both our bodies trembled but held onto each other.

After a few minutes of catching our breath, Ace lifted me strongly, placing me on the blanket.

"I'm going to see if I can find something to clean us up…" he said with shy smile, quickly leaving the scene as if something was bothering him.

I stayed there, thinking about everything that had just happened.

BE MINE.

Were those words real, or was it just my imagination? Why did he leave so quickly and embarrassed? Did he regret it? I didn’t quite understand his attitude. Although everything had been incredible.

"I couldn't find anything else, so, well, we can use my towel." Ace's words snapped me out of my trance of thought.

"It's fine, Ace, we can share the blanket… if you want."

We both cleaned ourselves up as best as we could and put our underwear back on. Our clothes were still wet, so I went back to the blanket, leaving some space for Ace. He settled on the blanket, trying to leave a few millimeters of space between us, looking everywhere but where I was.

"Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?" I asked in a soft tone.

Ace turned, and the expression on his face softened with tenderness as he turned and wrapped his arms around me. "No, Rooks. We should get some sleep."

"Then don't act like a child," I replied firmly.

Ace's eyes lit up, and he let out a small chuckle. He placed the blanket around both of us, pulling me close to his chest. A few minutes later, Ace's soft snores were the only sound in the dark night.

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

The next morning, I woke up with a strange feeling, like something was missing. Ace wasn’t on the blanket. I opened my eyes a bit more and sat up, but the boy was nowhere to be found.

I went over to my clothes, which were thankfully dry, and got dressed, determined to find Ace.

As I stepped out of the cabin, I saw a figure in the distance running through the trees toward the cabin. It was Ace.

“We’d better get going. I don’t think they liked that I took this,” he said, showing me a manuscript while pointing to a group of pirates running in our direction.

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

The crew celebrated our return to the Moby Dick, cheering loudly. Marco approached me, giving me a big welcome-back hug, and although he didn’t say anything, I could see a look of relief on his face that I had returned safe and sound. The crew gathered around us, and I lost sight of Ace in the crowd.

That same night, we would reach another island. The crew talked about celebrating on the beach, but all I could think about was everything that had happened with Ace and his distant attitude afterward.

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

The full moon shone brightly over the beach, and I couldn't get Ace out of my head. Our glances kept meeting and then losing each other in the crowd, as if searching for excuses to watch him without being noticed. Suddenly, a shadow appeared beside me. Deuce.

"What's wrong, Y/N? You seem a bit lost," he said with a friendly smile, sitting down next to me on the sand.

I sighed, letting the drink in my hand rest in the sand. "Ace…" I murmured, staring at the fire, avoiding Deuce's eyes.

Deuce raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Ace? What happened between you two?" he asked, noticing that there was something more behind the furtive glances.

I hesitated for a moment, but finally decided to confide in him. After all, Deuce had always been trustworthy, and he probably had an idea of what was going on with Ace. I quietly told him what had happened during the mission: how we had shared intense moments, both physically and emotionally, and how, since then, Ace had distanced himself.

"I don't understand," I confessed, looking at Deuce with concern. "He seemed so confident, and now… That was my fear, Deuce—that everything would fall apart and there would be tension between us. I just joined the crew; I'd rather nothing happened with Ace than for things to get weird."

Deuce nodded slowly. "Well, Ace is complicated. Sometimes, when he feels something strongly for someone, he doesn't know how to handle it. He gets scared, you know? But if you really care about him, I think you shouldn't wait for him to make the first move."

"What do you mean?"

Deuce smiled, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "I'm saying that if you wait for Ace to stop acting like an idiot, you might be waiting a long time."

We both burst out laughing. "He's not very good at expressing what he feels, you know?" Deuce said with a wider smile. "Actually, I have an idea… How about we play a game? It might help you clear your mind and forget about him for tonight. You need to have some fun for a while."

Deuce quickly stood up. "I'll see if anyone else wants to play some dares. It'll be fun, you'll see."

I knew Deuce wasn't much for parties and even less for playing any sort of games, but the fact that he was trying to cheer me up made me consider the idea of forgetting about the whole thing for the night and just having a good time.

A few minutes later, Deuce gathered some of the crew members in a small circle around the bonfire, under the pretext that they wanted to relax with something fun. Most were enthusiastic, already relaxed enough from the drinks and good company.

Deuce took charge of starting the game. "Okay, we'll play dares. The rules are simple: if you're dared and don't do it, you´ll drink up your cup to the very last drop." Everyone laughed, excited by the challenge.

After a few minor dares—like making a crew member dance ridiculously or another run down the beach—my turn came. Deuce looked at me with a mischievous smile, and I already knew he was going to dare me to do something involving Ace.

"Y/N, I dare you to go to Ace, flirt with him, and kiss him."

The group burst into laughter and applause as I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. Ace, sitting a few meters ahead, unaware of everything, was talking and drinking enthusiastically with some crewmates and commanders.

"Maybe he's drunk enough to play along," I thought.

"Come on, Y/N," one of the guys said, encouraging me. "You can't back out now."

"This is going to be fun," added another. "I bet Ace sets his eyebrows on fire, no, even better, his pants."

The rest erupted in laughter.

I stood up as my heart pounded in my chest.

I walked slowly, trembling a bit from the nerves, looking back to see everyone watching me intently, though trying to be discreet so no one else would notice our game. Deuce made small encouraging gestures.

As I approached, Ace looked more and more. The truth was, I missed being close to him.

"Hi," I said warmly, though timidly.

Everyone in Ace's group turned to look at me and, with sweet smiles as they made some room for me to sit beside him. It seemed like the whole crew was well aware of our feelings for each other, everyone except us.

NEXT CHAPTER

[zh0nggucc1]

Drippin Desires 1/2

Word count: 1.6k

Pairings: Mingi x Gn!reader

Content: Mingi is Y/N’s boss and he’s running late…

Warning: NSFW, public indecency, fingering, degradation, pet names (darling), dom!mingi, sub!reader

Splash! Droplets of the liminal greys above my head secreted its condensed layers. People scavenged around for any form of shelter, some even using the tops of their hood-less jackets to protect their heads from the harmless liquid. There was one in particular who caught my eye, the only one that could come out of this waterfall looking like a Greek God. If he wasn’t a Greek God he was surely blessed with all the beauty Athena had to offer

Song Mingi, unfortunately my boss. His brown, slicked back locks were beginning to fall down onto his carefully and beautifully, sculpted face, due to the rain weakening the gel that held his most likely, soft and luscious hair in place. A slight look of frustration painted his face before he glanced my way, replacing that sour look with a half smile. He soon approached me. We didn’t often catch the train together as he usually took the earlier train. I’m assuming he woke up late, putting him in this position.

“Good morning Mr. Song, are you running late?” I gently and professionally spoke to him. The rain dripping down his face enhanced his beauty by 100x, I could barely focus on anything but his stunningly shaped, pink, plump lips. They looked like they were itching to be kissed, I couldn’t bare it. “No need to be so professional, we’re not at work yet, call me Mingi.” He sent me a friendly smile. I couldn’t be friendly with him, I could barely resist ripping his clothes off on the spot. “I would prefer to be professional around you, sir.” As I finished speaking, the train had arrived at the platform. The moment the doors had opened, I swiftly hopped on hoping he would take the hint and leave me alone. The train was rather crowded so we had both ended up in each other’s personal space. It was more than i could handle.

“Come on, you can loosen up around me Y/N, don’t have to be so tight~.” His comment caused a light pink to cover my cheeks. “I don’t think it is appropriate for you to be talking to me this way and please, call me ‘L/N’, we must remain professional, sir.” I remained calm. “What? You don’t like it when I call you Y/N?” He sent me a very subtle smirk. No, I fucking love it, that’s the problem…

“Please don’t call me that again.” I spoke in between a gulp. Mingi spoke up again. “But I like your name, Y/N.” That was it. “I said stop!” I snapped at him, just like an angry chihuahua. I immediately regretted it. I turned around, My back facing him, feeling slightly guilty for shouting at him. Seconds later, I felt something solid poke my backside. Was that what I thought it was? This can’t be happening, I won’t be able to resist much longer…

“S-Sorry…” He muttered, as he grazed his finger along my hip, his tone much less confident and much more timid. He held his head lower, the sensation of his rough breaths down my neck, sending chills down my spine. I know what he wanted and I wanted it too but it was so risky, especially here.

Fuck it. Any dignity I left was gone in an instant as I backed myself up onto his partially hardened erection. I could tell he enjoyed this as he had to clear his throat to hide any devilish sounds that were aching to leave his mouth. It was so undeniably sexy. I needed to hear more of his sinful vocals. They caused a familiar liquid to coat my panties. I pressed my thighs together, in attempts of creating some kind of friction to satisfy this unbearable desire to be touched by him.

I hurriedly, scanned around the crowded cart. Once I was sure no one was looking, I grabbed his abnormally long fingers from behind and placed them exactly where I wanted them, up my skirt, in between my thighs. Not a word, left my lips in shame. I was about to let my boss fondle me on a train.

I heard a scoff leave his mouth and felt the vibrations from his chest due to our close proximity. Gosh that was so sexy, I felt myself getting even wetter. I bit my bottom lip, my breath becoming shaky.

His head tilted, his lips grazing my earlobe. “What is it? You want my fingers, hm?” He suggested, his voice low and quiet. It turned me on more than anything. I gulped and nodded. “I want to hear your words, darling.” He stated, stubbornly. “Y-yes..” I quietly replied. “Yes what?” He smirked. “Yes please...” I desperately spoke. He let out a low chuckle, sending shivers down my spine.

His finger’s collided with my underwear using one gentle touch and with one rough pull, they had been ripped off of me. I gasped in disbelief. He muttered a careless ‘oops’ and placed lacy fabric in his other hand, so he was now able to give me what I had been desiring.

He swiped his middle finger across my dripping folds, causing me to let out a shaky breath. He soon located my clit, rubbing slow and gentle circles around it. It felt good, but i needed more. I whined quietly. “What? is it not enough for you? How about this?” He hastily shoved two digits inside of me, causing me to let out a loud gasp. My reaction brought a wider smirk to his face. It created a sloshing sound due to the wetness. His fingers were so long, they easily reached my g-spot. He pumped his fingers in and out, rapidly, hitting my g-spot every time. My body jolted every time he hit it. I bit down on my bottom lip to suppress my moans, hard enough to draw blood.

It satisfied him seeing me try so hard to keep my composure but failing miserably. “What a slut? taking my fingers so well.” He whispered, his lips, again grazing my earlobe. I wished those perfect lips of his could be all over my body. I wished for his tongue to replace his fingers ramming into my dripping cunt. Unfortunately, this was the most I could allow to happen. It was too risky.

His bulge rubbed against my ass as his fingers rammed into my clenching cunt. He used his thumb to circle my clit, rapid enough for an orgasm to be nearing. I couldn’t do that here… it would make a mess.

“Sir- I mean Mingi- I mean Mr. Song… you need to stop.. i’m c-close.” I stuttered, breathlessly. “So what? Why don’t we make a mess and let the whole world that you’re not as innocent as you make yourself out to be~.” He whispered seductively. As much as I loved this feeling, he had to be stopped. I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand out of my skirt and just in time because our stop was approaching. Once the train had stopped, he leaned down to whisper in my ear again. “Meet me in my office on your lunch break, darling~” He got off of the train while I paused, almost forgetting to get off.

I hopped off and started making my way my usual coffee shop. I always stopped by there before work. As I walked in, I noticed a face i hadn’t seen before. I had grown quite fond of all of the employees, but this one I didn’t recognise. They must’ve hired someone knew. He was gorgeous, a little bit short, but nevertheless stunning. He had black, mid length hair, with a middle parting. He had a smile that could light up a whole room and quite a cute aura. I had been so focused staring at him, I didn’t notice that he was trying to take my order. “Ma’am, can I help you?” He gifted me a gentle smile, knocking me out of my trance. “Ah yes, so sorry! Could I get a caramel latte with extra cream?” I asked, He immediately typed it into the till. “Of course, is that all?” His voice was so soft and pretty, I could listen to it all day. “Yup that’s all, how much will that be?” I asked. “On the house… if I could get your number?” He flirted, looking me in the eye. He was confident, even more attractive. My cheek went a light shade of pink. “Eh sure why not?” I took my phone out of my pocket and opened up the keypad, handing my phone to him. He took it and swiftly typed his number in, saving his contact with the name ‘Joongie<3’. I read his name badge. His name was Hongjoong, what a pretty name. “thank you uhh-“ I cut him off. “Y/N, call me Y/N.” I smiled. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He passed my phone back to me. “Nice to meet you too, Hongjoong.” I replied. “Wait how did you- oh I forgot I wear a name badge.” He let out the cutest chuckle, to which I replied also with a chuckle.

After our conversation I waited, patiently for my latte. After it had been made, I bid Hongjoong a goodbye and made my way into my work building. There was nothing special about my job. It was a basic office job, nothing more to it, I sat at a computer all day and got paid to type. I can’t the pay was bad though, the pay was pretty good for what it was, it gave me enough to live on and that’s all that mattered. There was one thing I looked forward too everyday and that was eye fucking Song Mingi whenever he made a grand appearance however today I felt as if I had more than just eye fucking to look forward to.

I walked over to my computer, setting my coffee down on the table. I decided to take my phone out and message Hongjoong, just so my number would show up in his phone.

Hey! it’s Y/N, message me when you get the chance

Delivered

I knew, as he was at work, it would take a while for him to reply, so I just got straight on with my work.

TO BE CONTINUED…

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed!! please give me your opinion and/or requests!! thank you for reading <3

[quantum1mmortality]

Really super awesome and cool shenhe smut

For my coworker who bought me ice cream in return for a smut. Thank you broski, this is for you

Tw/cw: afab reader, fem pronouns, shenhes very hot and sexy we love her, bdsm? She ties you up with red ropes, degrading, threesome with ice twin, mentions of morax, she threatens to crush you w her thighs its very hot, consent isn't said verbally but rather physically

Not proofread because fuck you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

♧ Being an adventurer from Fontaine, your expectations were high when it came to scenery.

♧ It goes without saying that you had your fair share of dangerous encounters with random enemies. Treasure hoarders and hilichurls being the most common, usually the latter. You had always carried a small pocket knife with you just in case you had run into a sticky situation, but you'd usually run away before it could get out of hand.

♧ After a specific hilichurl encounter made you drop your knife, you had no choice but to climb up the mountain in front of you. Luckily, it wasnt a high climb and hilichurls don't have the brain capacity to follow you up. When you got to the top, you were amazed at the way it was flat at the top, with a large tree in the middle covering what seemed to be a tea table.

♧ As you started to walk around more, you find a small cave. Walking into it would reveal a glowing light and a young woman, seemingly your age. "And who might you be?" She asked, sensing your presence before even turning around. When she did finally meet your eyes, you were at a loss for words. She had this beautiful white hair, flowing down to her hips that was tied in a loose braid, and she was dressed in black fabric that fit her skin perfectly. She looked completely void of emotion and she just stared at you, awaiting an answer.

♧ "Just an adventurer who seemed to come at the wrong time. My sincerest apologies, I'll go now." Before you could start walking away, some sort of clone of the woman appeared in front of you. She seemed to be made of ice and had a talisman coving her face. She stood in the doorway you entered through, blocking your path.

♧ "Not so fast. Not until we're done with you." She says, looking at the figure behind you. "You're not from around here. You make it obvious. I should show you how punishment is served, maybe you'll learn your lesson." She's right in front of you now, looking down on you with her cold, soulless eyes.

♧ The white haired woman grabs a hold of your wrist and roughly pushes you to the ground, her ice twin lifting your hips up, working on getting your traveling gear off your waist. "Careful now, she's fragile."

♧ The Ice clone was done, leaving you in just panties and a bra, completely exposed to the both of them. Now then, where's my rope..." The woman says in a sarcastic tone. Her ice clone looks at her, slowly taking out a large amount of red rope. "Ah, here it is." She says as she gives you the most sinister grin you've ever seen. She begins to tie you up, your legs becoming joint at your thighs and ankles while your arms were bound at your wrists.

♧ "This will make it a much more pleasurable experience for the both of us." The woman says, her ice clone moving to now have you head laying on her thighs. The clone slips her hands under your bra, slowly pinching your nipples and rolling them in her fingers. The white haired woman looked up at your face as she knelt down in front of you, asking for permission. You give a desperate nod as she pulls your panties to the side, making it unbearable with how you can't spread your legs for her more.

♧ She licks a straight stripe up your pussy, making sure to give your clit extra stimulation. She moved her hands, one on your ass while the other slid down your stomach to in-between your thighs. Her hands spreading your legs out as far as possible, which wasn't exactly far, creating tension and friction. She begins to move her thumb at a steady pace as she slid her tongue inside you, slowly tongue fucking you. All this stimulation was too much, having this white haired woman between your thighs while her clone endlessly kneads your tits with her cold hands. You began to moan loudly, the woman between your legs slaps your ass in response, kneading it after to soothe the sting. "Shut it slut. Maybe I really should punish you. Crush you with my thighs, hm? Or would you like that, whore?"

♧ You began to bite your lip so hard it bled, but the woman continues fucking you. Trying to suppress any noise you make is torture, to the point you may actually combust. Arching your back, you can feel the knot in your stomach forming as both women continue to please you in ways you've never been pleased. As the white haired woman tongue fucks your pussy and stimulates your clit, she takes her tongue out and licks her middle and ring finger, slowly inserting them back into your pussy along with her tongue.

♧ After that the knot in your stomach broke, having such an amazing orgasm no amount of pain could stop you from moaning. Both women get up, the white haired woman staring down at you as she wipes her chin. "What would our lord Morax think?" She says in a cocky tone, watching as her ice twin unties you from the rope.

♧ Before you could even get up to get changed, a strange figure shows up in the doorway, casting a shadow on all three of you. It's... A bird? She doesn't look very happy. She sighs and puts her head down. "Seriously Shenhe? Again?" The bird says, leaving you in confusion.

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A/n: eek