#your writing is just *chef's kiss*

[ennysbookstorereblogs]

“Show me what you've been dreaming about.” THE SCREAM I SCREAMT

Unspoken Desires. || Song Mingi.

Summary: You find out about your boyfriend's secret fantasy and suggest trying it out immediately, wanting your man to feel as good as possible. Who would've thought it would bring you as much pleasure as him...

Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader

Genre: Smut (mdni)

Wordcount: 2.7k

Warnings: Dom!Reader x Sub!Mingi (kinda?), Reader is described to have big boobs, Tit fuck, teasing, both degrading & praise (Mingi receiving), cum on chest, cum eating, fingering, oral, edging, squirting

A/N: Not me posting twice a week?!?! Yeah, it will never happen again, lol. Anyways, this is my first full smut! Had this fantasy with Mingi for so long, it's about time I finally wrote it. Hope it isn't too bad, but I actually kinda like this very innocent drabble🥰 Thanks a lot to my lovely beta @wingsofimagery, you're such a blessing. Divider credits to @firefly-graphics.

Taglist: @yunho-mp3 @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie

“You are so fucking pathetic, aren't you? So obsessed with my boobs, hm? Why did you never tell me how badly you wanted to fuck them, Mingi? Tell me,” you whispered, pushing your tits together, making the man before you groan and whine, “how badly do you want your fat cock in between them, big boy?”

He swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing crimson red as he struggled to find the right words to respond to your teasing.

“I... I don't know,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted his gaze, unable to meet your intense stare, “I never thought you'd be interested in... that.”

You couldn't help but smirk at his flustered response, a surge of satisfaction rushing through you as you watched him squirm under your scrutiny. With a teasing glint in your eyes, you leaned in closer, pressing your breasts together enticingly as you whispered, “But you are interested, aren't you? Tell me, Mingi. How badly do you want your cock between my tits? I heard you moaning earlier, Min. Don't you dare lie to me now.”

Mingi's breath hitched in his throat at your provocative words, his eyes darkening with desire as he met your gaze once more.

“More than anything,” he admitted, his voice hoarse, filled with need and eagerness, “I've dreamt about it for so long, but I- I never thought-”

“Don't think too much, big boy. Do it instead. Now's your chance,” you murmured, seizing the opportunity to take control once more, guiding Mingi's hands to your breasts as you pushed them together, creating a tight, inviting crevice for his big, throbbing cock.

“Show me what you've been dreaming about.”

With a wicked, almost evil smile, you watched as Mingi took the bait, his hands eagerly grasping your breasts as he positioned himself between them. His cock, hard and heavy, pressed against your soft flesh, the anticipation sending shivers down your spine.

As Mingi's cock slid between your big breasts, you let out a soft moan of pleasure, relishing in the sensation of his hard length pressing against your skin. Fuck, you were starting to enjoy this yourself, and not just because of your eager, boob-obsessed boyfriend.

His hands, firm yet gentle, squeezed your breasts firmly together as he began to move, setting a steady rhythm that sent waves of desire through your body.

“F-fuck babe, do you like that too?” Mingi whined. You loved to see this big, strong man being such a mess for you and your tits, and you had to agree; seeing his fat cock between your boobs made you almost cum on the spot.

You couldn't help but grin at his words, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the obvious effect you were having on him.

“I've been thinking about this too,” you admitted, your voice filled with need as you arched your back, pressing your breasts even closer together, “I want to feel every inch of you, Mingi.”

“You've been driving me crazy with those tits of yours. I-it's about time I got to enjoy them properly,” your boyfriend said, sweat dripping from his forehead.

“Cum on my tits, Mingi, please,” you begged him breathlessly.

Mingi's breath hitched in his throat at your words, his movements becoming more and more sloppy as he sought to please you.

“Fuck, you're so hot,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire as he quickened his pace, his cock sliding effortlessly between your slick breasts.

Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, and the fire of desire within you reached entirely new heights.

“I love it when you fuck my tits like this, Mingi,” you moaned, your voice dripping with arousal, “You're such a good boy for me, aren't you? Such a filthy whore and all that just to get your stupid, fat cock between my tits.”

Mingi's breath caught in his throat at your words, his movements faltering for a moment before he regained his rhythm with renewed determination. The primal sound of his grunts and groans filled the air, mingling with your own cries of pleasure as you urged him on.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encouraged, your voice a desperate plea for more, “I want you to use my tits however you like, Mingi. Fuck them until you can't hold back any longer.”

Mingi's pace quickened at your command, his cock driving relentlessly between your breasts. The tension in the room grew with each passing moment, the air thick with the heady scent of sex and desire.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him as he chased his release.

But you weren't ready to let him finish just yet. You wanted to draw out the pleasure, to savor every moment of this intense intimacy with Mingi. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you shifted slightly, changing the angle just enough to keep him on the brink without pushing him over.

“Please,” Mingi whimpered, his voice pleading as he rocked against you, his cock aching, precum already oozing out of his sensitive tip, “I need to... I need to cum.”

“Not yet, big boy,” you teased, your voice dripping with wicked delight, “I'm not finished with you.”

With that, you took full control, setting a slower, more deliberate pace as you guided Mingi's movements. You reveled in the power you held over him, the way this big, strong man entirely surrendered to your touch, nothing but shameless moans and whimpers leaving his plush lips.

Mingi's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with anticipation as you brought him to the brink again and again, teasing him with the promise of release yet never fulfilling his wish.

“I can't,” Mingi cried out, desperate to finally cum, “C-can't hold it in any longer- shit!”

“Do it,” you ordered, your breasts jiggling as you made yourself bounce on the soft bed, “paint me in your cum, babe.”

With a deep groan of satisfaction, Mingi finally reached his peak, his hot seed erupting from his cock in thick, creamy ribbons that splattered across your breasts. You watched in awe as he came undone, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as he emptied himself between your tits. With trembling hands, you reached out to scoop up some of his cum, bringing it to your lips with a wicked smile.

You savored the taste of Mingi's essence, reveling in the salty sweetness that danced across your tongue. It was a heady, intoxicating flavor that left you craving more, your desire for him only intensifying with each delicious drop.

“Mmm, you taste so good, Min,” you purred, your sultry voice lulling him in completely, and all Mingi could do was watch you continue licking his cum from your fingers, making him slowly go insane. He couldn't believe how bold and shameless you were, and yet, he found himself utterly captivated by your uninhibited display of desire.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his voice filled with lust as he watched you, “You... you're incredible.”

You met his gaze with a grin on your face, your lips glistening with his release as you continued to tease him with your tongue swirling around your cum soaked fingers. The sight of you enjoying his cum sent an entire new surge of pleasure right through Mingi's body, his cock already twitching with renewed arousal.

“You like that, Mingi?” you purred, your voice dripping with seduction as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear, “Do you like seeing me taste you like this?”

Mingi could only nod in response; his mind clouded with desire as he watched you. He had never felt so desired, so wanted, and it was driving him wild and crazy.

“God, yes,” he groaned, his voice hoarse as he reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your lips, “I love it. I love everything about you.”

You smirked at his admission, feeling immense satisfaction at your effect on him. Mingi may have been the big, strong man on the outside, but on the inside, he was just as vulnerable and needy as you were, if not even more.

He turned his gaze to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe, adoration, and lust. He couldn't believe what had just happened, couldn't believe how incredible it felt to be with you like this.

“You... you're amazing,” he stammered, his voice still shaky from the intensity of his climax “I've never... I've never felt anything like that before.”

You smiled at him, dropping the act of the dom persona he loved, your heart swelling with affection at his words.

“You were pretty amazing yourself,” you replied, your voice soft with affection as you reached out to stroke his cheek, “I've never met anyone who could fuck my tits like you do.”

Mingi's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at your words, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He couldn't believe he was hearing such words from you, couldn't believe that you actually enjoyed being with him like this.

“I... I'm glad you liked it,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned into your touch, big, doe eyes staring up at you, “I've been... I've been dreaming about this for so long. Thanks for fulfilling that wish of mine.”

“You're welcome. But babe,” you whined, a pout appearing on your face, “I haven't cum yet. Don't you think that's a little unfair, big boy?”

Mingi's eyes widened at your words, a mixture of surprise and concern flashing across his face. He hadn't even realized that you hadn't reached your own climax yet, busy consumed in his own pleasure.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry,” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine remorse as he realized his mistake, “I got carried away; I didn't mean to…”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his earnest response.

“It's okay, Mingi,” you reassured him, giving him a quick kiss on his lips, “But now that you know, what are you going to do about it?”

Mingi's eyes sparkled eagerly as he met your gaze, a newfound confidence rushing through his body.

“I'm going to make you cum, babe,” he declared, his voice filled with conviction as he leaned in closer, “I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel good.”

With that, Mingi set to work, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of your body with skill and determination. He kissed and licked his way down your chest, leaving a trail of fire in his wake as he made his way to your throbbing core.

You whined and begged, eager for your own release after waiting so long, but despite your boyfriend's skilled tongue and long fingers, which usually got the job done pretty quickly, your orgasm continued to stay out of reach.

Because there was one thing and one thing only on your mind: his big, fat cock sliding between your tits, and how much he loved it, looking all pathetic and hungry as he practically humped you.

“Mingi,” you cried out, a tear rolling down your cheek out of frustration, “It's not working!”

Helplessly, he looked up from between your legs, and you saw a hint of self-consciousness flickering in his eyes.

“Babe, what am I doing wrong? Y-you usually cum with my tongue and fingers.”

“It's not you, Mingi,” you reassured him, your voice thick with emotion as you reached out to stroke his hair lovingly, “You're doing everything right. It's just…”

You blushed deeply, hiding your face in the pillow out of shame.

“Hey, you can be honest with me, babe. Don't hide from me,” your boyfriend whispered.

“Please fuck my tits again!”, you practically screamed into the pillow. Mingi's eyes widened in surprise at your confession, a mixture of disbelief and arousal flickering across his features.

“You mean... that's what you need?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty, “B-but how is this pleasurable for you, babe?”

“I can't stop thinking about it,” you admitted, “please, Min, please do it again. J-just like earlier.” A surge of desire swept through you at the thought, your body trembling with anticipation as Mingi's eyes darkened with desire.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his voice rough with need as he crawled up your body, his cock twitching with anticipation. “I can do that. I can give you what you need, babe.”

Mingi couldn't fucking believe his luck, the thought of how you enjoyed the tit fuck just as much as he did made him hard immediately.

He remembered the way he had moaned and begged for more just minutes earlier, and now, seeing you wanting it as much as he did, the man was determined to give you exactly that.

With that, he positioned himself between your breasts once again, his cock throbbing with need as he pressed it against your soft flesh. You gasped at the sensation, the heat of his arousal searing through you as he began to move, setting a steady rhythm almost immediately. The friction of his hard length against your skin sent shivers of pleasure racing through your veins, building the fire of desire within you to new heights.

You moaned and whimpered, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body as Mingi pounded your tits with increasing fervor.

The sight of him lost in pleasure; his face contorted with concentration as he sought to please you, only served to fuel your own desire. You reached up to cup your breasts, guiding Mingi's movements as you urged him on, desperate for more of the exquisite pleasure only he could provide.

“Mingi,” you gasped, your voice filled with need as you rocked against him, your body trembling with anticipation, “Fuck me harder, big boy. I need to feel you deep between my tits.”

Mingi's breath hitched in his throat at your words, his eyes darkening with desire as he quickened his pace, the bedframe crashing against the wall with each of his hard thrusts.

You could feel your climax slowly building, and just a few seconds earlier, waves of pure ecstasy were crashing over you, sending you spiraling into bliss as Mingi's cock pounded relentlessly between your breasts.

“W-wait Min, s-something isn't right-”

Without warning, a powerful wave of pleasure crashed over you, and you felt a gush of fluid erupt from your body, soaking both you and Mingi in a warm, sticky spray. You cried out, whimpering and moaning and screaming while Mingi watched in awe as you came apart beneath him, his own arousal reaching its peak as he continued his pace relentlessly. But for you, his eager movements faded into the background completely. Your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment as you realized what had just happened. You just squirted for the first time.

“O-oh my god,” you gasped, your cheeks flushing crimson as you tried to process the overwhelming sensation, “I'm so sorry, Mingi. I didn't mean to-”

But before you could finish your sentence, Mingi reached his high, his hot seed erupting once again from his cock in thick, creamy spurts that landed on your breasts and stomach.

“Fuck,” he groaned, eyes wide open, watching your pussy release more and more fluid. “That's so hot, babe. I had no idea you could do that.”

“Me neither”, you said.

Despite your initial embarrassment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at Mingi's reaction. He wasn't repulsed or disgusted by your body's natural response; instead, he found it incredibly arousing and exciting.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you reached out to pull Mingi closer, pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss, sending a thrill of excitement through you.

“Does that mean I can fuck your tits every time I want, babe? Since you loved it so much, you even fucking squirted?”, Mingi asked breathlessly, a huge grin on his swollen lips.

“Maybe, since you're such a good boy. You'd like that, huh?” you teased, your voice hoarse from all the screaming, “You really like seeing me enjoy a quick tit fuck this much, huh— dude, don’t tell me you're getting hard again?!”

[merakiui]

SKULLY HAS RAIDED MERA'S BLOG!!!???

Skully over shining Zuzu?

UNFORTUNATELY...... yes,,, (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) WAAAA I AM SO SORRY, ZUZU!!!! My heart is just too big and I fell for the dead guy with his Victorian rizz and kiss addiction. I couldn't help it...... he charmed me. This obsession is terrible, dear Izuna!!!! OTL he's completely taken over my brain,,, a parasite that I can't shake!! >:(

He's so precious,,, my beloved King of Halloween, oh how I adore you most ardently. <3 I wish him nothing but peace and happiness forever hehe.

[undead-moth]

I know I've been on about this for a while now and I'm being a hater but you're telling me SydCarmy was "always meant to be platonic" even though there are two seasons of writing making use of tried-and-true explicitly romantic tropes, themes and writing signals, and SydLuca is going to be romantic because...he was nice to her on screen for a few minutes?

I don't even care if people ship SydLuca, or if they just prefer it, but you can't honestly tell me that you believe Carmy was always meant to be a friend but Luca is an obvious love interest.

Just because Syd and Carmy haven't kissed or confessed their love to each other doesn't mean that isn't very obviously the direction this show is going. The Bear has already shown you who is endgame. It has shown you every episode of the show so far.

Honestly I really don't think The Bear fanbase understands this show or cares about these characters or the story being told here, which is unfortunate because this show is shockingly well-written in comparison to most shows right now, and we should be so grateful for it but all we're doing is complaining that the writers led us on by not making a ship canon fast enough. It's just. Sad.

[desceros]

now i can finally leave surprises in your inbox HEHEHEHE

[conceived-angel]

flaws and all x sydcarmy

[maengekyou]

you know rocks fall; scene end by RK7200? no? go read it and thank me later :)

Kakashi is back in the past, he is supposed to be dead. Instead, he has been given Uchiha Obito's script. or: There’s an Akatsuki member called Sukea who is mystifyingly familiar to Team Minato.

[majokothesmol]

@honey-crypt You are how I found the Elliott Club and every time I see the Elliott squad it makes my heart happy to know so many people also love him!!

...so naturally, I needed to draw my own self-insert/farmer admiring the crew.

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF SHENKO 1/?

The end of the world has a way of reminding you of all the things you forgot to say do. Mass Effect: Legendary Edition (2021)

[singsweetmelodies]

AKA: angst, miscommunication and a/b/o, feat. brief/mentioned maxierre with piarles endgame (+ implied maxiel.) happy birthday @boxboxbrioche my love

"Hello, Charles," Max smiles when Charles runs into him (literally) in the Budapest paddock on Thursday. He's wearing the same Red Bull team shirt and jeans as ever, naturally, but something about him looks unusually relaxed and content. Sated, even.

Probably because he's been winning practically every race this season, Charles thinks. That's enough reason for anyone to be looking relaxed and content.

Still, when he steps in a little closer to fist-bump Max's proffered hand, he can't help but notice it. Max's scent is... more than just content. He smells like he's only just come out of heat, and whoever was taking care of him did a very good job of it. He doesn't smell like sex, precisely, but he smells like what Charles would imagine afterglow would, if it had a scent. Golden and lazy and sated.

Oh, he's got blockers on, of course, but Charles has always been blessed (or cursed, depending how you look at it) with a very good nose. So. He knows immediately.

Some too-perceptive instinct is telling him that the timing of this heat has something to do with Daniel's return to racing this weekend. Almost like Max... wanted to get his heat over with before he saw Daniel again?

...That's a big stretch, of course, and Charles would never dare say it out loud. (Except to Pierre, maybe, because Pierre loves theorising about the latest paddock gossip just as much as Charles does.)

So he just smiles politely at Max, and says "Hello" back, and wishes for Pierre to appear out of some corner of the paddock somewhere. It isn't that Charles hates Max, or whatever the media likes to spin, but it's also true that Max isn't Charles' most favourite person in the paddock. (Obviously, that honour goes to Pierre.)

No, Charles' and Max's relationship is simply that of colleagues - good enough, if a little bland.

Which is why Charles is not expecting it at all when Max leans a little closer with something that looks almost like a conspiratorial grin. Charles has no idea what Max might want to be conspiratorial about with him - it's not as though he's leaving Ferrari anytime soon, despite what everyone likes to speculate.

Surprisingly, what Max says to him is not racing or incident-related at all. "Do you know where Pierre is?" he asks, as though Charles is the most reliable source of the Alpine driver's whereabouts. (Charles shouldn't be, but he's very flattered.) "I still need to thank him."

"Thank him?" Charles echoes, a little puzzled. "For what?"

And then Max says the one thing that blows apart Charles' world and turns his day upside-down immediately. "For agreeing to spend my heat with me so last-minute."

He says it so casually, too, and Charles...

Well. Charles knows that many of the other unbonded omegas on the grid like to spend their heats with other drivers. This might seem contradictory at first, but the thing is - while they might not necessarily trust each other on track, you can always rely on the fact that another driver, at least, won't reveal details of that hook-up to the press anymore than you will. Most of the alpha drivers on the current grid are decent enough people off-track that you can trust you'd be taken good care of, too.

It's something that Charles has done himself, too, once or twice - mostly with Alex, who is always incredibly kind about it, and makes sure Charles is comfortable and well-hydrated afterwards.

But mostly, Charles spends his heats alone. He schedules them carefully so they won't interfere with races, and then he bears them on his own, teeth gritted as he works himself open over and over again and clings to whatever article of Pierre's clothing he can find nearby.

It's never good enough, never, but Charles has never really wanted another alpha. He only goes to Alex if his body genuinely cannot go without it anymore, and then it's purely a case of friend helping out a friend.

So, really, Charles has no reason to be this shocked that Max apparently spent his most recent heat with Pierre. The two of them are friends, aren't they? Much better than Charles and Max have ever pretended to be. There's no reason why they wouldn't spend a heat together, really.

Except...

Charles grits his teeth, and it's only years of media training that enables him to still pass it off as a smile. "He did?" he asks, tightly.

Max laughs, still happily unaware that he's taken Charles' day and shattered it like a glass breaking into unrecognisable shards. "Yes," he confirms, and then he bumps Charles' shoulder, almost unbearably conspiratorial again. "You, of course, would know why I now need to thank him."

No amount of media training in the world could have helped Charles keep up his smile in response to that. Max notices - how could he not - and his own smile falls. "You two have not...?" His voice rises up in the end, like he almost can't believe he even has to ask the question.

Charles tastes something sour in his mouth, and by the way Max flinches back, he's sure it must be all over his scent as well, blockers be damned. "No," is all Charles says, brusquely.

Max opens and closes his mouth for a moment, and then he reaches for Charles' shoulder. He hesitates, though, hand hovering awkwardly in the space between them. "I'm sorry," he says, and it sounds sincere. "For assuming. The two of you are so..." He makes a face. "You are good friends, so I thought if he would do it for me, he would of course do it for you too."

"No," Charles says again, and the word tastes acrid in his mouth. "We have never."

Not for lack of trying, Charles thinks bitterly, and then he forces himself to think of something else. Some excuse that Max will accept.

Fortunately, a little gaggle of people in bright Ferrari red are passing by, and Charles latches onto them with almost too much relief. "Ah, my team," he says, pointing. "I need to go."

It's stupidly obvious, as excuses go, but Max has the grace not to mention it. He just watches Charles go, biting his lip.

Charles wants to hate him. He wants to hate him more than anything else - for having a race-winning car, and a team that supports him properly, and championships, but more importantly than any of that, Charles wants to hate him for having Pierre.

It's not that Charles thinks Max is actually in love with Pierre, or even that they're courting. No, it was clearly just a case of friend-helping-out-friend. But even that is...

Unbearable. It is unbearable, because Charles hasn't had even that much.

Charles had only asked once, and only because he'd been stupid with pre-heat already and not thinking straight. Pierre's long, long silence before he'd said, very gently, "Charles... I don't think that's a good idea" had told him all he'd needed to know, anyway.

After that heat, though, Pierre had called Charles and made sure he was okay, and that he knew it wasn't personal, Pierre just didn't think it was a good idea to get that involved with another driver. Especially one who's also a friend.

Charles had accepted it at the time, and he's never had any reason to think that Pierre has changed his mind in any way.

Except now here Pierre is, apparently spending heats with Max fucking Verstappen, of all people. And, really. Out of everyone on the grid - every goddamn omega - it had to be Max, didn't it?

A part of Charles wants to fall to the floor in devastation, wants to tear at his hair and shake and cry to anyone who will listen, why doesn't he want me, why doesn't he want me?

But Charles remains standing, because even more than he's heartbroken, he's furious.

Pierre did not help Max through his heat because they're in love, or because they're courting. So, he must have done it as a favour to a friend.

Then why the hell would he not do the same for Charles?

Charles also asked him as a favour to a friend (and yes, maybe Charles wanted more, but he wasn't stupid enough to ask for that. He'd just asked for a favour, the way every unbonded omega on the goddamned grid asks their alpha friends for favours every once in a while.)

Pierre had said no, and that he doesn't do that. But he'd forgotten to mention the part where he apparently does do that.

If he were here, Charles might slap him clean through the face. It's not an urge he's often had when it comes to Pierre (or ever, really) but today...

Today. It's just. What the hell does Max have that he doesn't? Max and Pierre are friends? Charles and Pierre are better friends. Max is an omega? So is Charles, and he's better at that, too.

It's obviously not even about looks! Because Charles doesn't want to be rude, but he is definitely better-looking than Max. It's just a fact, as true as "the grass is green" or "Charles is Monégasque" or "Charles is in love with Pierre."

No. Fuck that. None of this makes sense.

If Pierre is willing to spend a heat with Max, then there's no reason why he can't help Charles through one, too. It's not like Charles is asking Pierre to love him back - no, he's long since made his peace with the fact that that, at least, is impossible.

Charles has always wanted too much, though, and if he sees even the faintest chance of getting what he wants, even if it is just in the form of a favour to a friend -- well. He will never not go for the gap.

So Charles waits, increasingly impatient, for his media and team obligations to be done for the day. As soon as they are, he heads for Alpine, because there is no way Pierre will have left already - he is far too dedicated to them, staying behind extra hours to learn as many names as he can and give as much feedback as possible and help with everything that needs helping.

Right, because isn't Pierre just so incredibly helpful. Normally, this would make Charles smile, fond - but today, it makes him want to snarl.

Helpful, yes. Except to him, apparently.

No. Charles will not accept that.

Various team members glance up when Charles storms into the Alpine hospitality, freezing with coffees half-way to their lips and tracking him like the spectators to a tennis match as he storms across their building and towards the driver's rooms. One particularly brave soul ventures an "Er..." but Charles is already across the room before he's even finished saying it.

Charles knows the way to Pierre's driver's room as easily as he knows the way to his own (incidentally, it's on the same side of the building) and it's mere seconds later that he's bursting through the door of Pierre's driver's room.

Pierre freezes when the door slams open, mouth caught in a comically surprised expression, but it relaxes quickly into a fond (if still somewhat surprised) smile. "Charlito!" he says, standing up and reaching a hand in Charles' general direction. "This is a nice surprise."

But Charles is not in any mood for pleasantries. "Did you spend a heat with Max," he asks, but it's not really a question as much as it is an accusation, pointed and sharp.

Pierre freezes again, the smile slowly dropping off his face. His scent goes bitter with unpleasant surprise. "I -"

"If you lie to me, I am going to slap you," Charles says, injecting the words with just enough of a snarl that Pierre will know he's not messing around.

Pierre's expression goes from shocked to hurt to angry almost faster than Charles can process. "I wasn't going to lie to you, Charlo. I would never. Not with you."

He sounds sincere enough about it that Charles almost feels guilty, but then Pierre adds, "He's just a friend who needed a favour" and Charles is right back to furious.

"I was a friend, and I needed a favour," Charles says bitingly. He doesn't have to say anything more, because he knows Pierre will understand exactly what he means.

Pierre's face shutters, closing off completely. Even his scent goes blank, like Pierre is deliberately shutting off every part of himself. "That's different."

"How?" Charles hisses at him, and Pierre obviously wasn't expecting the vehemence of it, because he stumbles a step back. "How the hell is it different, huh?"

Pierre's expression does something complicated, and he makes a rough noise, low in the back of his throat. "It just is," he says, and refuses to elaborate.

Charles is livid. "It just is?!" he explodes. "Tell me how it just is, Pierrot, because I sure as fuck don't get it. I am your friend - non, I am your best friend - but when I ask for this favour, you say no. Then when it is Max, you say yes?"

"It's different," Pierre says again, sharply, as though sharpness alone will make Charles drop the subject.

He really doesn't know Charles if he thinks that will work. "It is not different. Not at all. What, unless you are trying to say that you don't want me?"

"Of course I-" Pierre starts, then cuts himself off with a groan, dragging a hand down his face. "I don't want to do this with you, Charles."

"Well, I want to do this with you," Charles retorts, unfazed and as fuming as ever. "What is it, huh, Pierre? You prefer Max over me?"

"Of course not," Pierre says, and he has the audacity to sound almost offended.

"But you must, if you fucked him and not me," Charles snaps. He's not entirely sure what he's trying to accomplish here, but he knows - he knows that he's furious, and Pierre is being a fucking asshole, and he needs Pierre to admit that much. At least.

Pierre, however, seems determined to continue being a stubborn asshole. "It wasn't like that," he insists, and Charles sees red.

"It's exactly like that! I asked you to fuck me, to help me through my heat, and you said no because you do not want me."

And that, somehow, is the last straw.

"Shut up, Charles," Pierre growls - actually growls - at him. "Just, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I don't?" Charles snaps right back, goading. "Why don't you tell me, then?"

Pierre snarls again, guttural and furious, and Charles knows that he should be terrified. But right now, he's far too furious to care.

"Tell me," Charles goads again, because he knows that nothing will ever compel Pierre as much as a challenge will.

Pierre is breathing hard, his fists clenched, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly. "You think you know what happened with Max, huh?" he asks, and Charles has never heard him sound like that. Despite himself, it sends a thrill through Charles' whole body. "You think you know what I want and don't want?"

Charles lets his belligerent silence do the talking for him, and Pierre's eyes flash. "Well, do you know that none of it is true? Do you know that none of the rumours of me with all those omegas are true?"

"What do you--" Charles begins, but Pierre cuts him off with a single hand held up, raised as sharply as a slap.

"Do you know, Charlito," he says, almost viciously, "that I've never been able to date any other omega for longer than a few months because I was always comparing them to you?"

Charles jolts where he stands, all the breath wrenched from him. "What--"

But Pierre doesn't give him a moment to process that. "Do you know that I only agreed to spend this heat with Max because he was desperate and out of options?"

"Do you know," Pierre continues, dangerously soft, "that I had to think of you just to be able to come at all?" He stalks a single step closer to Charles. "Do you know that I had to pretend it was you all the time just so that my knot wouldn't go down?" Another step, and Charles is shaking all over, but he can't move. Pierre has him pinned down, completely rooted to the spot with his scorching gaze and world-ending words.

"Do you know," Pierre concludes, softest of all, "why I really said I wouldn't spend a heat with you?"

Charles isn't sure how he even manages to form the word. "Why?"

Pierre's eyes are so, so dark as he stops just in front of Charles, raising one hand to ghost just millimetres above Charles' collarbone. "Because," he says, and his voice is rough. "I knew that if I did, Charles, if I fucked you even just once, I wouldn't be able to hold back. I would bite you, then and there, and I would make you mine."

All the while that he's been speaking, Pierre has been tracing his fingers upwards, a slow, slow torturous slide mere centimetres above Charles' skin. Charles can almost feel the heat of his touch, almost but not quite, and when Pierre stops just below Charles' mating gland - Charles whines and shudders forward, the combination of Pierre's hand there and that word mine too much for him to resist.

Pierre's fingers touch the overheated skin of Charles' mating gland, and the world explodes.

Charles' knees buckle, and his head spins, and he has to press his thighs together in a desperate effort to ease the sudden and burning need there. He's wet, he can feel it, leaking slick all over the place just from that one touch.

Pierre jerks his hand back, of course, but even that split-second of contact was enough to destroy Charles perfectly.

Pierre is panting, and he looks about as wrecked as Charles feels. "So do not stand there and tell me that I don't want you, Charles," he says, and his voice shakes - anger or desperation, Charles can't tell. "Not when I have done nothing but want you for as long as I have known how to want."

Charles shudders, the full weight of Pierre's words sinking in on him all at once. As Charles stands there, processing, he watches as the world rearranges itself entirely.

Charles breathes in, and then he breathes out. "Fuck you, Pear," he says, only a little shakily. "No, seriously, fuck you. How obvious do you need me to be? I literally asked you to spend my heat with me!"

For a moment, Pierre looks so indignant that he forgets to be angry. "You asked it as a favour to a friend!" he protests. "I just said, I can't do that! Not if it's you."

"Yeah, well," Charles says waspishly, "I only asked it like that because I thought you would say no otherwise."

And all at once, Pierre's expression transforms as he comes to the same sudden and brilliant realisation Charles just had.

"Charles," he says, shell-shocked. "If you're saying what I think you're saying..."

He glances down at his hands, clenches them tightly into fists again, then looks back up at Charles, his gaze burning. "You have to know, you can't take it back. I'm not going to let you take it back. Not if you mean it."

"God, Pierre, you are so fucking stupid," Charles says, and alright, maybe he is still a little angry about the whole situation, after all. (He thinks he has the right to be, though.) "Why do you think I was so angry that you went for Max?"

When Pierre doesn't say anything immediately, Charles snaps off a sharp step into Pierre's space, flicking his fingers against Pierre's forehead. "Yeah, it's because I wanted you to choose me. Only me."

Pierre's hand comes up, grabbing Charles' wrist in a bruise-tight hold. He draws Charles' hand away from his face, but then he doesn't let go, just keeps holding on, fingers circling Charles' wrist like they're meant to fit there. "Only you?" he echoes, and it sounds like a question.

Charles nods, because there was never any other answer, and he's about to say it, too, but then Pierre kisses the words right off his mouth.

If Charles' world hadn't already exploded so thoroughly earlier, then it would now.

It's a good kiss. No, it's better than a good kiss - it's a fucking incredible kiss; Pierre's one hand still wrapped around Charles' wrist while the other finds its way to his waist, like it belongs there. Pierre kisses him like he's still a little angry, but also like he's never meant anything more, pouring every part of his soul into it. Pierre kisses him like he's already imagining the night they're going to spend together after this, and he kisses Charles like how he's planning to fuck him later.

Charles has no objections to that. None at all.

Well. Except the one.

He pulls away from the kiss, pressing his palm hard to the side of Pierre's face. "You're going to spend my next heat with me," he says, orders more like, and it's far too possessive, but he can't bring himself to care. Not one goddamned bit.

Pierre growls, low in his throat, and pulls Charles even closer to him. "No, chéri," he says, too-softly. "I'm going to spend every single heat with you from now on. Forever."

"Forever," Charles breathes, and then he kisses Pierre again, hard, making it a promise. "Forever."

[anna-pineappel]

Shout out to my friend, the fabulous @frau-wilhelm-klink, for giving me ideas for titling AND naming Peace in the Moonlight’s prequel WIP…

Terror in the Shadows

[yvonnesrespite]

@talia-sings:

In the muted light of the hospital room, the diva of the opera world sat in silence. The woman, whose voice once commanded the stages of the grandest theaters, now found herself grappling with a silence that was not chosen but imposed. She had woken up one day with her voice completely gone, muting the soaring arias and the delicate melodies that were her life's work.

From her perspective, the hospital was a world away from the velvet-draped backstage and the spotlight's warm embrace. Here, the sterile white walls were her only audience. She has never been a fan of hospitals, at all.

Still, however, Talia looked at the young nurse running the reception desk and smiled charmingly at her, keeping her fear at bay. She was here to get her throat checked up, just to find out why she had lost her voice.

Copy, paste, save. Copy, paste, save. Click, drag, shift and ugh, why are spreadsheets so mind numbing?! A scrutinizing gaze befalls the paper in the nurse’s hand at the reception desk. Anyone walking by would instantly clock this young lady as the mean girl type. Ironically she’s more commonly known as one of the sweeter nurses there. Her – for a lack of better words – resting bitch face tends to emerge when she’s handling spreadsheets.

A spectral tickle on the back of her neck draws Yvonne’s attention from her personal spreadsheet purgatory. No, not purgatory. It’s just a new circle of Hell that Dante’s Inferno didn’t cover. Honestly, spreadsheets are the worst sometimes! Her gaze moves upwards to the source of the prickling sensation on the back of her neck. The source happens to be the gaze of a kind-looking woman. The intimidating furrow of Yvonne’s brows and disgruntled frown on her face are replaced with a much warmer and welcoming expression.

“Hm, you’ve been waiting for a bit, haven’t you? One moment.”

The nurse turns around and casually grabs the phone. The conversation seems intense. A haughty sigh heaves forth from her glossy lips and the phone is put down with only a little bit of spite. Oooonly a little bit. Yeah.

Yvonne’s dazzlingly sweet demeanor returns as she stands up. A younger nurse – perhaps an intern – rushes to the reception desk, bows in a hasty apology, and takes her place. Whatever transpired in that call probably put the poor kid’s internship on the line. Maybe this nurse looks sweet but it seems she has this air of authority with how she carries herself. She walks over to Talia with a clipboard and tilts her head. “Your situation needs to be bumped up on our priorities. The sooner it’s looked at, the easier the recovery! Come along and please don’t push yourself to speak much. Even if it doesn’t hurt.”

[caretaker-au]

cielocyan submitted to caretaker-au:

This got really long, so I had to get an AO3 account to put it on. For a while now I’ve been working on a fic about Ribbon Kid surviving and getting meet Frisk, and when I realized 3/3 was coming up I decided to hurry and finish it. So happy birthday, RK! Here’s 12,000 words about a world where you get to have a life! Kind of an awful life, but it still beats dying at six!

If there is such a thing as an AU of Caretaker AU where Ribbon Kid lives, then this is canon to it. —Eruto

If you’ve been missing Caretaker, then give this a read. It’s so accurate to the Caretaker AU that I feel like it came out of my own brain. —Minty

— — — — — 

Obligation by CieloCyan

The doors to the penitentiary creaked open, and the guards’ barking voices echoed down the stone hallway. Frisk’s back went rigid, pressing flat to the cell wall they were seated against. They could not quite make out what was being said, but it sounded like both dog monsters were speaking to a third person. Please be Asriel, they thought.

It wasn’t Asriel. Fortunately, it wasn’t Chara, either. It was, apparently, a different adult human, but as Frisk had some doubts that Chara themself was human, they could only be mostly sure of that.

The probably-human stopped in front of the cell door and stared down at Frisk over some sort of tray they were carrying, their eyes wide and intense but their mouth resting in a small, apathetic frown. “Greetings,” they said. “If you do not mind my asking, why aren’t you dead yet?”

Frisk let out the breath they had been holding, and with it came the words, “Of course I mind that!”

“Oh. Apologies.” The stranger knelt down and set their tray on the floor against the bars. Now that Frisk was no longer looking up at it from beneath, they could see it was covered in butterfly-shaped cookies, their wings glittering with bright blue sugar-crystal scales. “I brought sweets. Won’t you have some while we wait?”

Frisk did not budge. “Wait for what?”

“The end,” the stranger answered, sounding mildly confused as to how whatever that meant could not be self-evident. “We should be decent company for each other. Since we are both human, we can ride out the loops together.”

[Read the full story]

[eremin0109]

As fitting as the ending was, I think I would've loved an alternate scenario where instead of loading the entire pistol into him, Dong soo would've been successful in putting Do young behind the bars again, for life this time, giving us a full circle moment of Do young ending up right where he was at the start of the drama.

[cloud-somersault]

constellations chapter 3 is SO GOOD idk what the fuck happened there, but go OFF!!!

[vvitchering]

Strange New Worlds got me crying with laughter, sadness, and joy all in one episode GOD I LOVE STAR TREK!!!!!!!

[maddymoreau]

I could never play Fallout 4 because no ending would feel as a satisfying as this one chapter fanfic: