#Especially if it's a sheer wall on the other side and you're on the second floor (third US terms)

[jester089]

Gotta say, massive fan of the work you’ve pumped out, especially for TADC (it came out two weeks or so ago and there’s this much already what?!)

That said, could you write for the gang (separately, I’m sorry l know it’s a lot) who’s s/o resisted abstraction? Like, they were halfway through but turned back through sheer will? *Insert John Wick reference* This has been ping ponging in my head for a while. Thanks for listening! XO

Glitchy pain

I've written for something like this before. And I wasn't sure if you wanted angst or fluff. But since what I wrote before was angst I'm gonna just donna do my ideas on this one. Also to anyone else who feels like requesting don't be afraid to ask for a lot of characters. My max is like 10 and only because Tumblr doesn't like super long posts. I honestly don't think I would have a max if not for that. But really from like 7 pm to 4 am I got a lot of free time and the want to write. So ask to your hearts content. TADC crew x (kind of) abstracted reader

Caine

Caine was floating around when he heard what sounded like a pained and glitchy scream? He quickly floats over to where he heard it from only to find you clutching your head crumpled up into a ball on the floor. He was about to float down and ask you what happened before he noticed the random glitches, black spiky flesh, and randomly colored eye balls all appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye. So he backed off, a little sad over the fact you were abstracting but life goes on. Until you let out another pained scream, it was almost like the abstraction reacted as the second you screamed it reverted a bit and slowed down. It continues like that for who knows how long. You in a mental and physical battle with abstraction. Caine just staring completely taken back by what he was witnessing. After enough time you vomit a nasty and seemingly living blob of black goo onto the floor and pass out. Caine stares at your motionless body for a few seconds before snapping out of it. He puts the weird goo blob into the cellar and takes you back to your room. He doesn't even know how to react, so he sits there at your bedside waiting for you to wake up. Once you do he is relived to find it's still you, speaking in full sentences and everything. Sure your voice and body have the occasional glitch but overall you're ok. So he leaves you be, mostly. He still needs to study your code for how you did that. But past that and him being a bit more "walking on egg shells" around you, but nothing really changes. And not wanting the others to think your a threat, you and Caine don't tell anyone.

Gangle

Gangle was wandering around looking for you. Her comedy mask broke again and you were the only one who knew how to fix it properly. She could patch it up sure but it never lasted long. Much like Caine she heard you scream out, only difference being she recognized your voice. She quickly changed from casual and aimless stroll to sprint with reason finding you leaned against a wall holding your stomach looking like your about to throw up. She runs up to you and places a hand(?) on each side of your head staring into your eyes. She in a panicked voice asks "Are you ok?! What happened?!" You half shove her away a garbled and messy version of your voice half screaming out that it isn't safe. You quickly regret taking the energy to speak and move as a giant surge of pain jolts up your digital spine forcing you onto your knees. You let out another pained groan/scream as black goo starts oozing out of your mouth. It's only then that Gangle realizes your glitching! She panics and tells you to stay calm while she gets Caine. Gangle sprints off with a mission luckily finding Caine rather quickly. She especially screams at him to help her/follow her. He listens and follows her. When she gets back to where she left you, your passed out. But you aren't glitching anymore. And your not fully abstracted. She carefully walks over to you and sets a gentle hand (ribbon) on your face feeling a whole lot of relief when you half swat at her hand in your sleep. She'll watch you while you sleep making sure you aren't disturbed but when you're awake and she's sure you're ok you are going to be getting a whole lot of cuddles from her. Her comedy mask can wait.

Zooble

Zooble was missing a leg and was hobbling/jumping her way towards your room to ask if you'd seen it. She knocked on your door only to receive no response. She knocks again. Nothing. So she unlocks it with the spare key you gave her. She is stunned by what she sees. Obsessive scribbles covering your walls. Wall paper torn and dirtied. She takes a few cautious steps before finally hearing you say in a horrible sounding voice "P̵̛̣̤̪̑̈́̄͆̚p̴̹͇̆̑̐͠ṕ̷͔̼͙̅̀͐̿͋͜͝P̵̢͚̩̱̮̭̉͜͠l̵͔̟̰̘̼̹̼̯͉͆ḛ̴̣͈̖͛̈́̏̏͌̕͜a̴̢͇̣̮̠͕̮͆̾s̸̡͉̣̺̯͚̾̈́͋̃̑͊͘s̵̼͛̃͛̄̏̊̊͜͠ͅs̷̨̯̬̯͊e̵̢̪̜̗͙̞͈̠͌̔͠s̸̢͔̝̳̞͈̭̲͂͆̇̄͛́́͗ͅͅ ̴̗̻̳̗̜̙̹̘͒̒̑̅̂̎̚͘w̴̰̘͂͊̌̒͘w̸̢̦̑̍̈́͊W̷̨̄̑̌̂̚͝W̵̦̙͇̝̲̪̝̫̜̰̄͑̚w̶̮͐̏̀͊͠h̴̬̤̠̩̰͋͗̾̓̈́̍̅ó̴͍̭͇̯͚̮͔̽̓̔̈́ ̶̥̑͋͒̿̀Ê̶̼͎͇͍̳̯͌͋͐̓̋v̸̢͓̩͗͜͝v̴͇͇̮̻͖̪͕̰̹̫̔̌̎̇̑́ë̷̪̤̫̪͌͂̓̕͘e̵̢̨̱̘̗͙̘̱̱̩̎̾̀v̸͍̄͠ë̶̡̙̠̣̰̠́͜r̸͇̰͖̍͑͌̆̌ ̷̯̼͕͍̭̭̲͙̰̽̈́͝y̷̪͉͓͗̿̀̐̈̃̆õ̷̢̜̮̬͒̈́͒̿̀̽̈́͂̈́ǘ̸̡̟̭̩̠̜̬͙̃ṵ̴̭̮̹̯̺̜̤̈͂̽u̸̬̠͉̺͍̰͉̦͌̋́̃͌̊͘͜ ̵̲͖̩̹̲̊̐͂͝͝a̵̰̩̻̗͕͎̮͈̥̫͂̂̌̆̆̎̑a̴̭͒͐̏̎́́͝à̶̛̘̮͍̟̻͕̰̽̍͛̽̈́̃͛͝r̴͎͚͇̻̞̬͑̂̅̿͋̅̂͊̔ą̴̛̱̱̗̔̈́̈́̔͒̆̌͘͠r̵̺̰̬̹̮̬̘̜̈́̊͗͛̅̌͌͘͜ę̸̛̺̞͚̹̘̱̥̲̒̍̏̔͛̌̚ȇ̴̩.̶̛̖̙̦̝̹̰͔̉͂̆̉̐̾̐͠͝ ̵̘̙͎̼̻̩̬͖͌̉̾̂̄͜J̵͐̏̇̈́̑̃͜͝͝j̶̛̠̬̟̓͗͗͆̆̀̈́̿̂͜j̴̢͍̦͉̯͑̍̓J̷̨̧̢̳̟̠̯͖͖͚̐̈̏̓̈͐̎̐͝j̶̫̞̬͖̯̯̹̺̩͆̾̽́̈́̄ͅJ̵͖̘̫̓u̷̡̧͔̥͇͕͔̞̠̇͛̈́̎͂̌͂͘̕ş̶͕̫̎ṫ̷͈͖̲̩͉͌̅̍̈́́̿ ̷̠͕͕̖̜̻̯̻̖̃̏̀͂͑́l̷̳̣̼̓̈́̊̈́̈̎̀́̋̚͜L̶̡̜̣͔͔̼̠̗̎̇̈́̕Ļ̴̞̟̱̹͓̹̪͖͚̂̐͐̑̂͆̐̓̚͠ḽ̶̢̧̙̺̯͖̰͓͐͗̽̈́̃̔̀̾̕l̴̢̢̳̜̣̦̎́́̔̕̚e̷͔̫͉̘͉̓̓͋͊̀̿̄̕͝ͅã̷̡̢̝̮͔̮̰̱͒͌̈͊̾͂͠ͅͅv̷̗̼͎̠̝̋̓͒͛̂͐͜͜è̶̪̟̲̘̃̓ ̴̺̊̉͑̉̽̅́̕̕m̸̧̦͔̙͍̘̭̲̄͂m̸̧̫͎͌̀̃͜ͅM̴͍͍̫͚̺͚̪̺̿́̒͋̂͐̿͗̚͘m̴̛̘̼͔͑̿̏̅͌̊̾̕e̴̩̟͈̙͑̏͐̆̓͆̏̚͠͝ ̵̳̤͉͉͙̬̥̉̓́̀̓̃̀̌̊͜ͅḁ̶̧̗͈͍͍̉͂̀͆͗̾̆́̚͜͝l̴̜͓͈̄͌̓̈́̉͊͊̍͝a̵̲͒̋̂͐́̊̕̚͝â̶̢͕̫̘̮͈̻͕͙̩͑̂ḹ̵̨̮̓̓̊̍̕̚͝o̵͖͔̥̳̊̐̀͠n̵̺̥̲͔͔̿͋̊ë̶̯̤̻́̌̎̎́̾͋̄̄̋.̵̪̑͆̀̎" (Please whoever you are. Just leave me alone.) She cautiously walks over to your bed and peaks over it. Your laying there curled up into a ball torn and broken items surrounding you. Y-your abstracting?! B-but... Zooble doesn't even really register the fact. She's in shock from seeing you like this. (I mean I would be too) You let out an ear piercing scream and claw at your own face with enough force to tear the skin, if you weren't digital at least. The glitching gets much much worse for a few seconds before just, stopping. No rhyme or reason that she can see. But you can bet your a&$ that after like 5 seconds pass and you stop showing signs of abstraction she's going to huddle near your spitting out so many questions. Mainly ones like "ARE YOU OK!?!" and "Your still with me right?! RIGHT!?!"

Kinger

Kinger would more likely then not be there when your first started glitching. And that might make him officially lose it. Your the second person in this hell (Queener) who he felt close too. And he outlived you too. Still you aren't abstracted yet. Maybe their's still a chance! So he sprints off screaming out for Caine in a voice that is loud enough to make you go deaf if you were too close to him. When he finds Caine. And he will find Caine he grabs him by the shoulders and sprints towards where he last saw you. He basically throws Caine at your glitching form and yells at him to fix you! In that second you stop glitching Caine did nothing and Kinger will basically tackle you. He'll pick you up and hold you over his head like a spear and sprint towards your rooms. Once there he will set up the comfiest coziest pillow fort possible then get you all comfy inside. Once he's sure your at least mostly safe and he's at least mostly calmed down he'll ask you about what happened. (Despite him being pretty crazy I really do feel like out of everyone he would be the best at communication in a friend or relationship. I mean he's that crazy and yet he still has manners and knowledge about a lot. Tbh he might become my fav. Idk it's possible.)

Ragatha

You were helping out Ragatha with a surprise she was making for everyone to lighten their moods when you said that you feel kind of sick so you were going to call it a night. She nods thanks you for the help you gave then gives you a quick peck to the lips as a send off. Not to much to her surprise you choose to lay in her bed instead of yours. Just something you do when you don't wanna be alone. She shrugs it off and keeps working actually quite grateful that you decided to not leave, not fully at least. She keeps working but stops when she hears some very concerning noises coming from your sleeping body. She turns around to see you tossing and turning an abnormal amount in your sleep, as well as making a lot of noises that sound like when someone is choking on their own blood. Concerned she carefully walks over to check on you only to recoil when she notices the glitching. She trips over her own foot and falls over onto her back. She quickly but clumsily gets up and gets back to you. She shakes you a bit trying to wake you up, but you don't only concerning her more. She yells calls out for Pomni who pokes her head through Ragatha's door a second later. Ragatha nearly screams at her to go get Caine. Pomni startled by Ragatha's tone turns heel and runs off to look for Caine while Ragatha stays with you. She keeps whispering things like "You're gonna be ok" and "Pomni's getting Caine just hang in there". Always keeping a hand on you not caring when it starts glitching out too. When Pomni returns with Caine, Ragatha full on yells at him to help you. He looks at you, then back at her, then with a apologetic tone says their isn't anything he can do as abstraction is one of those things he doesn't have control over. Ragatha breaks into tears. So she's gonna lose you, she was even there. BUT SHE CAN'T F@%#&$* HELP?! She holds onto you like you're her last tether to reality. And you seem to get better. Your at the very least don't seem to be in pain anymore! So she squeezes you, really f&$%@#* hard happier then should be possible that your improving.

Jax

Jax found you in his room voice glitching you huddled over in pain. At first he thought it was a revenge prank and acted accordingly. "Haha, very funny Y/N. Now get out of my room I need to do something." That is until you vomited up a ton of pitch black goo. Then he started taking it more seriously. He quickly crouches down and wraps an arm around you to try and provide some support. He freaks out and quickly pulls his arm back when you vomit up more goo and starts visibly glitching. He panics and quickly looks around his room locking onto a like 3 day old unopened water bottle. He opens it and hands it to you as well as a thing to squeeze that half yells to just hang in there he'll be right back. He sprints around not even knowing who to get. He sees Ragatha and half tackles her. He shouts directly into her face that you need help and that you in his room. He tosses her in the direction of his room then continues sprinting around not long after finding Caine. He grabs Caine ignoring his protests and runs back to his room where he fins Ragatha sitting next to his bed you tucked in. Your not vomiting anything and you aren't glitching. You're just shivering. He hears you mumble his name and literally kicks Ragatha and Caine out quickly getting to your side. After he feels he wont get hurt he quickly gets into bed holding you close "If you ever do that again I'm going to take back my vow to not tease you." He falls asleep with his chin resting on your head.

Pomni

At first when you started glitching Pomni didn't really know it was abstraction. She's never seen someone abstract after all, only seeing the finished product. But when you keep getting worse and worse she realizes that something is wrong. So she leaves you with a quick kiss then runs off to the communication thing Caine made after the whole Kaufmo incident. She calls him and when he picks up she screams into the phone that your glitching out. When Caine appears next to her she runs back over to where you are not even checking if Caine is following. When she gets back to you, you're still in really bad shape. She turns back to Caine and yells at him to help you. When he tells her that he can't she starts hyperventilating, then she sees him pick you up and the cellar hole open?! OH F&#$ NO! She basically punches Caine then clings to you protectively, ready to throw hands with Caine if she has to. Caine tries and pull her off when she starts glitching but she has the grip of a professional rock climber. So Caine has to keep curing her glitches at they appear. Cause in his mind your beyond help but she isn't. Then you start to improve. No more coughing and the glitching has slowed down! Pomni glares at Caine then turns back to you with a scared and tired smile on her face. Once your ok enough to talk you are going to get an earful. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL HER YOU WERE FEELING BAG ENOUGH TO ABSTRACT?!?!?! (Sorry this was so long. I got a little carried away. And surprisingly I'm pretty proud of this one. I hope you enjoyed it!)

xoxo, Jester

[dolicekiss]

slight drabble ♡ about will fucking graham because im horny and he's the prettiest man i have ever seen and i think he'll fuck me good under stress

CW; noncon, dominant will, bratty reader, filthy unprotected sex, primal instincts, degrading, hair pulling.

Will Graham had enough on his plate, especially with the constant feeling of being a failure nipping at his core. He didn't need a bratty bitch like you to add more to that beautifully decorated plate, yet here you were. Using your tongue to spew out all sorts of petty things directed towards him.

At times Will would imagine himself grabbing you by your hair and slamming your face right down on the table. Bending you over and fucking some manners into your tight little cunt right there but then he'd inhale a breath of air and let it all go.

Too bad that wasn't going to happen today.

“You fuckin’ piss me off.” Will grunted, taking a step forward.

You smiled in victory. “Yeah? Telling me all that like I care.”

Will ran a hand over his face in frustration, hoping you'd stop. It wasn't like he didn't try to bite back his own quips but he simply couldn't. You were too tempting — he couldn't back out from putting you in your damn place.

“Did no one ever teach you basic manners, you impolite little girl? You're this close to getting it.” Will had taken another step while you stood besides the book shelf, coursing through the files.

Everyone knew Will Graham was a petty bitch but you, you were his fucking competition. They all knew it was either going to be you or him. You both couldn't survive together.

“I'm terrified.” You mocked, an ill mannered giggle slipping.

Something inside him snapped when he heard you let out that fucking sound of ultimate victory. Before you knew it, Will had slammed your head into the book shelf while his body pressed up against you. His hands tangled in your hair.

“What the fuck?" You gasped out, feeling pain blossom in the side of your head. Will didn't care anymore.

These were only the repercussions of your own actions. Will pulled you by your hair towards his wooden table and bent you over it, all while you struggled. Tiny fists punching at his hands.

“Let me go!” You whined, throwing kicks and punches everywhere but Will was stronger. He was rougher as he slammed your frame down on the table once more and held you in place with one singular hand. “Fucking asshole, let me go!”

His other reached to unbuckle his belt and pull out his cock. It took him a few seconds to pull up your tight knee length skirt and slide your panties aside to drive himself into your cunt. You cried out and Will groaned, feeling the wetness of your warm pussy drape him.

“So fucking tight and wet. Do you get wet by talking back to me?” Your tears profusely streamed down in rivulets but he didn't care. Instead he found himself to be enjoying your cries and pleas.

The same fucking bratty bitch who was now stuffed with his fat cock and crying from it.

Will pulled your face up by tugging on your hair, his other hand gripping your hip tightly. His hips snapped at a rough pace inside you and your cunt throbbed from the ache. Will’s cock had stretched your little cunt out like no other.

“Fucking slut. The whole of FBI should know how big of a whore they've hired.” He spat, the sound of his skin smacking against yours reverberating throughout the walls of his office. “Pathetic thing. That mouth runs a lot, doesn't it? How about you use it now, but for something better? How about sucking a cock, my cock once I'm done with your slutty little pussy.”

You could only sob, drool accumulating around your mouth as your mascara streamed down. Feeling his cock drill into your pussy was too much for you, especially when he hadn't even prepared you.

Will growled, his beautiful curls clinging to his forehead due to the perspiration. His blues swallowed by blown out pupils. A predator ravaging its prey. His cock throbbed from the sheer self control he had held onto in your presence.

But not anymore.

“Runnin’ that mouth around only tells me you wanted this. Christ, what a fucking cockslut you truly are.” Letting go of your hip and hair, Will reached over and shoved his fingers into your mouth.

Holding you from behind, he fucked you silly and you felt yourself choke a little from the way he was holding you. By shoving his fingers into your mouth. Saliva and drool covered his fingers but that was the least bit of Will’s concern.

He let out a laugh, feeling himself come near. “Yeah–fuck yeah. I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum inside this greedy pussy and then I'll make you walk around with it inside you.”

You were all over the place. Hair strands sticking to your face, fingernails grazing against the wooden table. Scratching the material and your knuckles had gone completely white. This had thrown you off the edge. You disliked Will Graham’s sassy personality but this? You never expected this to happen.

“Oh—oh pretty whore. I'm close, I'm so fuckin’ close—” Will stuttered, letting out whines now as he felt your velvety walls clamp down on him. His balls were hot and ready to pump you full of his cum, so he did. Loads of white erupting inside you as Will’s breathless whines and growls filled up the room.

Your whimpers and cries were drowned down soon when he forcefully clamped his hand around your mouth. He couldn't have you moaning like a bitch in heat for the whole of the agency to hear. Especially when he'd taken you in such a primal, immoral manner.

When Will was done, he pulled his cock out of you and spread apart your ass cheeks with his thumbs. Watching as your gaping hole spurted out white, hot cum. Relishing in the sight of it.

As he stepped back from you and fixed his cock back into his pants, you lost balance due to your wobby legs and fell down to the floor. Will stared at you, broken and abused. Precisely done hair now a total mess with strands sticking out, black smeared around the eyes and spit surrounding your lips.

Tears had stained your flushed cheeks. Your soft cries expressing the assault you'd just faced by the hands of your colleague.

“Talk back to me next time if you wish to get your throat fucked too. Brain dead little whore.”

[sopebubbles]

Five

Master list

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: You think you can take care of yourself, but you'd be wrong. There's an alpha more than willing to step in to do the job.

Warnings: that evil little voice in your head, Yoongi pushing your boundaries to save your damn life, but does that mean he can't enjoy it a little?

You could hear the pack move around the house. The sounds of pots and pans and laughter floated into your room just as easily as their scents did. The unfamiliarity of it made your inner voice whine. Not the unfamiliarity of them. Their scents had already become lodged in your brain. You were sure you'd be able to smell them weeks from now, just by memory. You'd think of that beta every time you washed your sheets, if you ever owned a bed again. 

Should have asked the beta to stay.

Why on earth would he want to stay with you?

No, the combination of such joy that could be known to the senses even a room away, even to a stranger, was something that you couldn't have imagined. It brought to mind no memories, for you had never known something like that.

They forgot you were here. Otherwise how could they be so happy? No one has ever been happy with your presence.

Your previous pack never sounded like that. They never laughed, not happily. They only ever bickered and yelled. And if they laughed it was only at one another's expense, especially yours. This pack smelled like laughter. Their scents were bubbly and bright as they moved around the downstairs just beyond the walls that enclosed you, protecting their joy from your bitter, poisonous presence. You laid and listened, your apple scent rotting more and more, so that no one would confuse you for being part of them, especially not yourself. 

Their bliss seemed to carry on for hours, although your perception of time was tenuous. It seemed hours later when Hoseok finally came to your room again. He knocked gently before letting himself in. 

"Good morning, pup. I brought you something to eat. You must be starving." He set down a plate on the bedside table before looking down at you. "I thought you could take a bath and I could change your sheets," he added, gesturing with the towel draped over his arm. 

"I'm fine," you grumbled, rolling over to avoid his gaze. You were vaguely aware of the physical ache of hunger in your empty stomach, but it merely ranked with the other urges you refused to indulge. Hunger, just another animal instinct you must overcome by sheer force of will. 

"You're a wreck," he chuckled.

"Just leave me alone."

Hoseok sighed. "I know you're upset, and you probably feel like shit, but you'll feel a lot better when you've had a bath and something to eat," he pushed, his tone letting you know that he was barely holding onto his patience. 

"I don't need you to take care of me," you snarled, turning back to face him. You took in the other omega and softened. His dark chocolate eyes were heavy, but you couldn't tell if the pinched set of his lips was sadness or annoyance. His throat was covered in deep purple bruises, a particularly large one placed at the curve of his shoulder to his neck. Your eyebrows furrowed. "Did they do that to you?"

"What?" Confusion did not displace annoyance in his voice. You lightly touched your fingertips to your own throat. "Oh, that," he laughed airily, as if it didn't matter, but a bit of pink dusted his cheeks. "They got a little carried away. You've got them all riled up."

You frowned. "I'm sorry they hurt you because of me."

"What? No. Believe me, they've done worse," he chuckled. But his voice wavered as you curled in on yourself. "They just get a little pushy and possessive sometimes."

"I know how alphas are." Hoseok cocked his head at your declaration. "The bastards only want to breed you."

Hoseok bristled. "I don't know what kind of alphas you've had but mine are good men. They just can't help themselves sometimes."

You've heard all the excuses before, made plenty of them yourself. You looked up at him with wide eyes and kept your voice low so the alphas outside wouldn't hear you. "You don't have to put up with it, you know? You can leave. It's not easy, living like this. But it's better than being used by them."

Hoseok wrinkled his nose at you. "I'd never leave my pack." The clear disgust in his tone, aimed at you, turned your stomach. 

Just like Jimin, you knew he'd never understand. Maybe they were right. Maybe it wasn't the pack that was wrong. Maybe packs were good, and it was only you that was wrong. So wrong. A sweet little omega like Hoseok who knew the right things to do and always took care of everyone, even a useless little wretch like you, who wouldn't want him? Who wouldn't treat him well? For him, an alpha could be everything they were supposed to be. Not you. Worthless omega. 

You rolled onto your side, away from Hoseok and the vicious voice in your head. He hovered for a moment, seemingly unsure of himself. Then he walked to the end of the bed and picked up the blanket from the floor where you had banished it after Jungkook left last night. With a flourish, he fluffed it out over your curled form, only for you to kick it off you and fling it into the corner of the room. 

"Get out!" You snapped at him. "Leave and don't come back. I'll take care of myself." You knew you couldn't leave. Jimin probably wouldn't let you even if you tried. But you didn't have to be around Hoseok. And if you pissed him off with your petulence, all the better. He could just leave you to rot.

"Y/N–"

"Hobi," a gentle voice called from the hallway. "I think it's best if you give her some space." 

Hoseok had never met an omega like you. He'd never met anyone like you. Someone who didn't accept comfort or company, much less seek it out. Someone whose moods could turn on a dime. Someone who didn't nest and wouldn't eat! You were an enigma to him. 

Hoseok had grown up in a large and well connected pack, with multiple alphas and omegas and plenty of children. His parents had taught him that while an alpha's role was to provide and protect, an omega's role was to ensure the health and harmony of the pack. His own omega might have implied that an omega was more necessary to the pack than an alpha, but that was just between them. What they emphasized above all else was that the pack meant power and protection, and for Hoseok having a good pack of his very own became a sole ambition. 

It wasn't very hard to achieve either. He has known Jin since they were both in grade school. Their families were of similar status, higher than most Lykos ever reached, both of them descending from early diplomats in Lykos-Sapiens relations who reaped the benefits several generations down the line. Jin's family boasted political leaders while Hobi's had their hands in business, but both the alpha and omega had been born near the tail end of rather large families. As a result, their ambitions didn't have to reach quite so high as the others. There's only so much spotlight after all, and Seokjin and Hoseok had found each other in the shadows of rooms full of much more important people. 

Jin had loved Hobi's sharp tongue, while he admired the alpha's integrity. They had the same expectations from life, which largely consisted of a comfortable home and each other's company. So they married when they were barely eighteen and twenty years old and started a life together. 

They were content for several years until Jungkook came along and contentedness gave way to a feeling of completion. An alpha, a beta, and an omega. A perfect little pack. Hoseok had never wanted a pack quite as large as the one he came from and he thought the three of them would be plenty until they decided to have pups. He thought if he did have a larger pack then certainly he would have at least one other omega to help out, but his boys only ever seemed to bring home alphas, at least until Jimin. After that, things had settled until another omega was nothing more than a secret wish that he kept to himself, only expressed in moments of frustration as an off-hand comment. His alphas were more than enough, he assured them, especially Tae and Jimin who were particularly afraid of becoming a burden. 

And now an omega without a pack had fallen right into his lap, but it was you and everything about you was wrong. It wasn't your fault, the others had been extremely clear about that. But he knew very little about Sapiens, if he were being completely honest. He'd not spent a lot of time around them nor had any close friends who were sap. For him, their bigotry and cruelty was merely an idea with which he had no experience. He'd heard of it, but never seen it first hand. He'd gone to a private school for Lykos. He'd moved from his family pack's house to an apartment with Jin, and he had never encountered the likes of you. Even Yoongi and Jimin, troubled as their families were, had at least one parent to teach them about who they were. You were an apple trying your hardest to be a peach and seeking not to even know how impossible that was.

Your rejection had been difficult for all of the pack. Jungkook and Yoongi went to the gym on Sunday afternoon to escape the house for a few hours. Jimin took Taehyung to the art store for supplies and for dinner because it had been too long since they'd spent time alone together. Namjoon, for better or worse, had papers to grade, so he spent most of the day at the kitchen table with scent blockers in his nose so he could focus. Jin searched the internet for the pack's dream house and tried to show his mate his best finds, which the omega normally would have actively participated in. But instead, Hobi stewed.

Come night time, Jungkook was in his proper place between Hobi and Tae, and it was Yoongi's turn to work a night shift. Jimin waited on the couch for him, eager to avoid another accident, and the two went up to join their packmates in the early hours of the morning. 

By 9 am, only Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung were left in the house, and the latter two were sleeping the morning away. It was difficult, but the omega managed to respect your request that he leave you be. With the small exception that he left snacks and water outside of your door. But you never opened up to take them. 

"I guess I can understand why she would be nervous about all the alphas in the house, but why me? Why does she hate me?" He asked Yoongi in the afternoon.  His response to you the day before hadn't been what he'd wanted. His first thought had been to defend his pack, not to listen to your concerns. In his estimation, based on his admittedly sheltered experience, any alpha you had encountered so far had clearly not been worthy of the name. He, by contrast, had collected several of the very best, so who were you to judge and criticize? As time went on though he began to take your behavior more personally tough. His comfort was the best thing he had to offer, but you refused it. 

"It has nothing to do with you, or us," Yoongi reasoned.

"But can't she see we aren't like other people? We've been nothing but kind to her since she got here!" Hoseok pouted.  

Yoongi smiled regretfully. "Babe, she didn't ask to come here or for our kindness. And while I hope she's grateful and more importantly, feels safe, from everything I know about her, I'd be surprised if she did trust us. Just because we're good people doesn't mean she has a reason to trust us if she's never met good people before." 

Hoseok pouted harder. 

By dinner time he thought he was going to lose his mind. When his pack came home from a hard day of work, Hobi went into full omega mode, making sure that everyone had everything they needed to rest and relax. And you were throwing a major wrench in his plans. Maybe you weren't his pup but you were a pup, and he could not stop worrying about you no matter how hard he tried. Now matter how ungrateful and impolite you were, you still needed to be taken care of and you clearly were not going to do it yourself. 

All the alphas felt on edge too, as Hoseok banged utensils on pans anxiously while he cooked, not in the gentle manner he usually had. Yoongi helped to chop fruit, doing so more carefully than usual as he kept his senses alert to the omega tje easy he had all day. Namjoon set the table, putting extra focus into not breaking anything in case that might set his mate off. Jin hovered just as anxiously as he flipped pancakes beside Hoseok. They often had dinner for breakfast on Monday nights as a treat for having made it through a hard day. 

"Do you want me to take care of those eggs?" Jungkook asked cautiously as Hobi's split attention led them to burn. 

"Yes," he replied, shoving the spatula against Tae's chest as he pushed past him toward your door.

"Love, I thought you were giving her space," Jin called over his shoulder. 

"To hell with her space! This is my house, and I need to know what's going on inside of it!" Hoseok marched to your room, Namjoon following close behind after a look from Jin. 

He knocked firmly on the door, but even the four quick beats sounded anxious as they reverberated through the house. No sound came from the other side of the door. Maybe you were sleeping. If that was the case then there would be no harm in Hoseok seeing you for himself. He gripped the nob, half expecting to find it locked, but it wasn't. Cracking the door open just enough to get a view of the bed, he found you were missing. Panic raced through him at the thought that you might have left, so he pushed the door open. And there you were, halfway to the bathroom, sprawled facedown on the floor.

Yoongi set the knife down with a dangerous clatter at the sound of Hoseok shouting his name. His heavy footsteps were followed by those of the other alphas toward your room. He pushed past Namjoon, who took up most of the doorway, in order to crouch beside you and Hoseok. 

"What happened?"

Hoseok felt dizzy as he looked around the room. "I don't know! She was laying here when I came in. She hasn't eaten any of the food I brought or drank any water." Yoongi's hands touched lightly over your body, checking for any obvious injury. "Is she-?"

"No, sweetheart," Yoongi assured him. "Look, see her back rising and falling. She's breathing. She might have passed out from dehydration."

"I'll go get her some water," Taehyung offered. 

"There's plenty of water here. Just-" he was going to tell the crowding alphas to go back to the kitchen and give them some space but he was cut off by the smoke alarm. Luckily that was enough to get their feet moving. Nothing motivated them quite like an imminent threat to their home. 

"What can I do?" Hoseok asked as Yoongi gently rolled you over. 

Yoongi shook his head. "I'm going to try to get her awake first. You go keep them settled." Hoseok hesitated, but Yoongi made eye contact and gave him a reassuring smile. "She's going to be okay. But the three of them might not be without you." The omega nodded and stood to do as he was told. "And set another place at the table," he added. 

Hoseok stopped in his tracks to question him, but the alpha was in full medic mode, checking your pulse with a concentrated look, so he left. 

Yoongi spoke your name loudly and firmly to keep any panic from his voice as she shook your shoulders. He was only five percent panicking, or so he told himself. He'd seen people in this state hundreds of times before and it was almost never life threatening. You had neglected eating and drinking for too long, but that was easy to remedy. He just needed you to wake up. He spoke your name again, and this time he saw your features morph into a grimace, which was better than no response at all. "C'mon, Y/N. You're alright," he assured himself as he moved closer to you. Gently he took hold of your ankles and lifted them to his shoulders in an attempt to get the blood flowing back to your head. Seconds ticked by as he rubbed your soft calves, waiting for you to open your eyes. When your eyelids finally fluttered open, he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. 

"There you are, princess," he sighed. 

When your eyes had fully adjusted, he could see that your pupils were still dilated, and you weren't completely lucid. You began to squirm away from him, but your tired body made very little progress. 

"Take it easy. You passed out. I'm just here to make sure you're alright. Do you know what happened?"

Yoongi reluctantly let your legs slip from his hands as you carefully extricated your legs from his shoulders. You struggled to lift yourself up to your elbows, but he was there with sure hands gripping you around your rib cage. He maneuvered you to the side so you could lean against the bed, and then he unscrewed the top of a bottle of water from the bedside table before handing it to you. 

"Just sip it," he instructed as you took the bottle weakly, needing two hands to hold it steady. "Do you know why you passed out?" You shook your head just barely.

Yoongi's face took on a stern expression that matched his tone when he spoke again. "You haven't eaten or drinken anything for the last day. Do you realize that?"

You shrugged. Yoongi shook his head. "That's why little pups like you need looking after. If you can't take care of yourself, alpha will have to do it for you." You visibly flinched at his words, and Yoongi sighed. Of course he knew he wasn't your alpha. And maybe your past alphas hadn't given you a good impression. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try his hardest. "Look, princess. You can choose not to nest, to stop your heat, or not to take a knot. No one here is going to force you. But you do have to eat and drink. No dead pups in this house. Even if an IV is the one thing I will force on you."

You took in a sharp breath and exhaled in a huff, but at least you didn't look like you were going to put up a fight. A trickle of water slipped over your cracked lips and down your chin. Yoongi swiped it away with the pad of his thumb and felt another pang when you flinched, but he didn't pull away. Rather gently, so gently, touching his fingers to your chin, he made you face him. Being this close to you, where he could look into your eyes and you looked back at him, a thought locked into place that he had been dodging since the boys had brought you home. It was a feeling he hadn't had since he met Jimin, or before Jimin, either. It was a knowledge that you were his, and he would do anything to protect you. The hard part would be not frightening you when you were skittish as a bunny rabbit. 

"Y/N, I will never hurt you. And I know you may have heard that before. And I know you may have been lied to. I know that you have no reason to trust me or anyone else. But time is the only way to earn trust. For now, just listen to me, and I will take care of you. For the next hour all you need to do is eat dinner with us. Can you trust me that long?" 

You didn't respond, but merely lowered your gaze from his and handed him the water bottle. Based on what he had witnessed and heard from the others, this was a good sign. If you didn't want something you were more than capable of voicing your disagreement. Silence was rather an acquiescence, or at least as close as he could hope to get. While he had the chance he decided to press his luck. Your eyes grew big when he took a step closer to you. He placed one arm under yours, reaching around your back while the other went under your legs. You let out a whiny protest, kicking your feet. 

"Oh, I'd love to let you walk to the table on your own, princess, but you've let yourself get so weak that I don't believe you would make it. So just be a good pup for me."

Try as you might to hide, Yoongi didn't miss the rush of blood to your cheeks as you buried your face in his neck. Nor did he miss the small sniff you took of him. His steps halted for a moment, and he adjusted his hold on you, bringing you closer. 

"Go on, pup. It might make you feel a little better," he whispered. Again, you didn't respond except to tighten your arms around his shoulders and bury yourself deeper. 

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[saintescuderia]

cross my heart (pt. 1)

in terms of positive thinking, shibuya gave us more sukuna content so here's this -

AKA - the story of how you were sent on a mission to kill none other than ryomen sukuna. things get a little more complicated when you end up saving his life. more than once.

unedited (i was too excited)

1 / bored idiots

And in the next line of stupid decisions the higher ups have made, they now decided they wanted to kill Ryomen Sukuna.

Which was fine. If they wanted to be stupid, that was between them and their stupidity. However, you liked to think that you were not stupid. Kill Sukuna? The Sukuna? Yeah, good luck. No amount of training would ever be worth matching that. You had once heard him set fire to an entire village by snapping his fingers because he was bored.

Bored.

Just like you currently were in this meeting that had been called for a discussion as to how they would carry out their next stupid decision to kill the very man they were supposedly calling King. Fucking idiots.

"It's gone too far! He has doubled his tax. And I've just had three women fall pregnant with child!" One man slapped his palm on the table. "Let's see the King of Curses try running a business!"

The image of Ryomen Sukuna counting stock and calculating cash flow made you want to laugh. Yes, you definitely could picture him hunched over a notebook going over the business accounts.

Then again, considering Kimo's line of work, you wondered about when forcing women into prostitution was considered a business?

"You're sneering again." You heard a whisper beside you and saw the familiar small face of your sister giggling at your side. "Your resting bitch face is raging."

"It's not resting. It's reacting to that fucking idiot." You said, nodding a short bald man who was waving a servant over for more drink. His name was Kami but you referred to mentally address him as such and now considered him Kimo.

As she poured his glass, Kimo unashamedly slapped her behind. She gasped but could do nothing. You felt your fingers curl around the blade at your side. If only Kimo's father was still alive then this idiot would not be considered a Head who makes actively makes you gag.

"You call everyone an idiot." You looked at you sister who spoke and was smiling up at you.

"Because, Eva, everyone acts idiotic." You said. She laughed quietly and shook her head. "By the way, you shouldn't be here." Eva's response was a frown before you shushed her out of the room.

Your kill tally was the only reason you were allowed in these meetings, standing quietly behind sensei as he acted as a Head for his sick uncle. You honestly wouldn't have taken as many jobs if it meant you now had to stand through these meetings. Then again, more jobs meant a better life for your little sister.

Eva's father had run off before she'd been born and when she had been born, your mother had died in childbirth. You then spent your entire life raising Eva - and trying to dissuade her guilt for feeling that she had murdered your mother.

Especially since, between the two of you, you were the real murderer.

"Why not the girl?"

At the mention of you, you finally stepped forward from your usual spot of brooding by the wall. At such a formal meeting with all the family Heads sat discussing such important matters, tradition was important. One dressed accordingly. One acted accordingly. One spoke accordingly.

So when you were called as the assassin to kill Ryomen Sukuna, you expressed your concerns in the appropriate manner.

"Excuse the fuck outta me?" You crossed your arms, feeling more offended by their sheer stupidity by the second. "And did you just refer to me as girl?"

There was a sigh. An older man with a tired smile looked at you. He said your name with a hint of plea in it. You looked at the man you considered your sensei. You called him Oribu for his love of olives and he only person in this room you wouldn't describe as idiotic. Looking at him you forced yourself to take a deep breath.

Then Kimo, the idiot, spoke again.

"When I said girl, I was referring to the younger one." He said, a mouthful of food. "She is much prettier and could perhaps pass as a concubine."

In less than a split second, a few things happened.

The flower on Kimo's dress shirt was sliced cleanly in half. A blade was embedded in the table. Your hand was thrown out. And your Oribu was in stance, blade drawn.

It took a second for the room to process what had happened, that Oribu had deflected your blade - that you had actually drawn a sword at a Head. Kimo looked down at the flower petals that were falling slowly to the table, gravity slowly making its effects known. You slowly stood up from your throwing stance, the sheath at your side very clearly empty and the blade embedded in the table emblazoned with your own signature crest.

Kami finally found it in himself to speak. "Ya! You dare draw a blade at me!" The rage was almost comical. You snorted.

"Yes." You said as if that was the most obvious thing ever. However, your eyes darted over to Oribu-sensei who looked slightly displeased. Sure, he never liked these things - and knew of the lengths you'd go to protect your sister - but he was always about violence being the last option. Which you found quite ironic considering, well, everything.

There was a sound of a chair being pushed back against the ground. You turned to where another man - was his name Raijin? something about thunderstorms - stared down at you. "You will speak accordingly!"

"He literally asked me a question." You said, gesturing at Kimo. There were some displeased sounds from around all the table heads and you sighed. "I'm sorry, if you guys have a problem then how about you go kill the bad guys then. Do you think I care?"

"Heartless bitch." Someone commented.

"Well, at least I'm not worried about getting blood under my fingernails." You sassed back. To make things even funnier, Kami had been in the process of looking at his nails and immediately looked caught out. You snorted a very unladylike snort. "Yeah, thought so."

"Oribu has told me of Eva's training." Raijin spoke. "She is exactly the sort of woman Ryomen Sukuna likes his concubines to be."

You really wanted to know how he knew that. You opened your mouth but thankfully, Oribu bet you to it. "Her skills are promising but... unripe." He said. "Uncle is yet to send her on a mission anyway. It's unlikely she would succeed with her first mission being such a powerful creature."

"Her sister did." Raijin said, curling his lip. You couldn't help the look on your face - was he not aware that his supposed insult was actually a compliment?

Gag.

"Why not she kill Sukuna then?" Kimo chimed in.

Ah.

You understood Raijin's comment. He wanted this for you. Killing Ryomen Sukuna was a promised death wish - and he wanted nothing more for your head since you humiliated him by turning down a proposal. So fucking petty.

Kimo turned in his seat to look you up and down. "You can pass as a cleaner or something."

"And you can pass as a failed abortion."

There was some uproar at your sass - why they were still surprised was beyond you - until Raijin stood up and held his hands in the air. You stared at him with your own disgusted look. This crusty, dusty ass motherf--

"So, all in favour for Y/N to kill Ryomen Sukuna?"

And, of course, they put their hands up in agreement.

Idiots.

[neetily]

↳ EVENT 19. M!Whitney (Breeding & Incest)

— ✧ warnings: stepcest, Creampie, Breeding, Baby Trapping, pregnancy ment — ✧ word count: 3,432

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

The number one worst thing about having a hot step sister glued to his side at all times is that every day he has to fend off all the disgusting creeps that show up to his door, because you're too fucking dumb to see their true intentions and rely solely on him to be your moral compass. You've got a tight fucking body, don't y'know that? No, they don't wanna date you, idiot. They don't wanna court you, or take you on some romantic trip like they so often claim. They just wanna use your holes and milk you for all your sorry ass is worth because you're too pretty for your own good. How does he know that? Well, because he isn't any fucking better himself, truthfully. Throw him in with the rest of the town and you'd not be able to tell the difference between him and the guy next door— but you trust him too much, don't you? More than that, you need him to protect you. It's what big brothers do, despite how he may feel internally, and despite how often he speaks against that ideal; he wants to keep you safe, too. Even if only for more self serving reasons, driven mostly by how his cock thinks, rather than his brain.

Because of that, the second worst thing about having a hot step sister within his immediate vicinity is the fact that he's always hard when you're around. And he can't easily escape you, given that you're literally right through the fucking wall from him. Pining, yearning to bury himself balls deep in your little sister cunt to seek solace for the feelings resting sickly thick in his tummy every time he sees your stupid face. A burning bile, rising to the tip of his tongue when he sees you smile, threatening to spit venom at you when you act all aloof and cute like that. Like you've got no idea what sort of things you do to him, or the general public. Ignorant to how pretty you are, so fucking annoying, especially when you unknowingly leave him with blue balls every night, causing him to fuck his fist to only the memory of you like some sort of seedy stalker.

But isn't he kind of just that? Watching your every move, making sure you don't step too out of line or too out of his eyesight in fear of you straying too far. Late at night, when his fist is wrapped too tight around his fat cock and even fatter beads of precum drool from his red hot tip, he convinces himself that he's just looking out for you. Just being a good big brother at the end of the day. Pleasuring himself to the thought of you in private because that's what good big brothers do. Stealing secret glances of you in the kitchen while petting his fat bulge because that's what good big brothers do. Stealing your panties to sniff at them while his fist fucks his needy cock before placing them right back where he found them; only now a little stained sticky with seed, because that's what good big brothers do. In that, he's tried so hard and for so long to treat you as he's supposed to. Protective, perhaps a little too much so, but nonetheless genuine in his attempts to shield you from the harsh realities of this world. Even at the cost of his own sanity, and his poor cock.

But as he lingers around your open door, shoulder resting against the frame, one foot tucked behind the other, he gets an idea. An insidious one at that, borne out of sheer desperation to reconcile with himself in such a selfish manner it's almost shameful, but an idea nonetheless. Encouraged by the tiny little sleeping shorts you've decided to wear tonight, ass facing him like an invitation, face pressed close to your phone as a display of submission. He briefly wonders if you've even picked up on his presence yet, caught on to the fact that your big brother has been busy for the past few minutes simply staring at your ass, nursing a growing erection with an open palm circling his tip. Because if you have, you certainly haven't let on. But the thought of you being so fucking dull, enough not to feel his ever watching presence at your back side, has his cock twitching for your attention, drives him insane with sexual frustration. Horny at how well you ignore him, God, you're so pretty but so dumb. Fucking slut, you better not be doing this on purpose— riling him up without even fucking trying, it's so beyond frustrating that he has half a mind to treat you as unfairly as you do him, just like how all those abusers outside would like to ruin you. Though, on a more positive note, your complete and utter lack of self preservation only strengthens his secret resolve. You need to be taught a harsh lesson, at the very least, to be more aware of your surroundings.

There's really only one way to keep you by his side forever, to be the best big brother you could ever ask for; eager to provide you with whatever you may need so long as you can satiate the ever growing hunger he feels for you. And besides, it's not like he's technically going to be doing anything wrong... Right, step sis?

Carefully, he creeps towards you. Stalking prey, straying from the creaky floorboards he intimately knows about, reaching the foot of your bed before you know it and pounces. Calculating his fall so that he's got your wrists pinned above your head and your legs locked under his own. A breathy laugh follows, he can't quite believe just how easy you are to catch, but isn't that further proof that you need big brother to be by your side forever? See, he's doing you a fucking favour by keeping you under him.

"Got you." He mumbles absentmindedly, smiling down at your squished into the pillow face as you writhe and wriggle around for freedom under him. You're not helping his hard on, y'know that?

"Whitney! What's your fucking deal— Ouch, that hurts, asshole—"

"Quit yer fuckin' whining." He sighs, dismissing your petulant cries by tightening his grip on your wrists anyway to show how serious he is, and tilting his head to the side, lowering his upper body to get closer to your face. And for a few moments he merely stares at you. Takes in the sight of your confused expression, the furrow of your brows. Cute, he thinks to himself, cautious not to let his hips drop down too low in fear of rubbing himself against you. Usually others appear more scared when he's on top, but like a good little sister you intrinsically know the trust him, right?

In that case, fuck it, he thinks. A split second decision, coaxed into giving in to his more baser instincts by the pretty pout you send his way, a low mutter of you're heavy, can you please get off? as if it were even a fucking question. It's your own fault, really. Should have known that displaying your innocence in such an honest fashion would only lead to others wanting to corrupt. To dirty you, stain you as vile as they are.

Which doesn't exclude your own brother, especially as he yields to his perverted fantasies and drops his hips in one fell swoop, heavy hard cock resting between your ass cheeks that he knows you can feel the outline of. Shoulda worn something less provoking, then. The pretty gasp you let out at the contact causing his own brows to knit together in focus, biting down on his tongue to withhold expletives when you question his ethics.

"Are you— Are you hard, Whitney? Really?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

There's no use denying it, not when his hips are pressed flush against your backside. His heart racing, thumping hard against his chest at the prospect of finally getting a taste of you, his precious, highly sought after, baby sister. He's in your room for only one reason tonight, a selfish seeking to protect you. Whether you agree to it or not is of no consequence, he's only doing what's best for you, okay? And besides, he's so much stronger than you, isn't he? Bigger too... There's nowhere you can run that he won't find you, if you ever get the opportunity to escape.

Given his nonchalant answer, he hears you sigh in response, a deep sound that has his cock dripping more pre just for you. And he can't stop thinking about how lucky he is to hear your resignation. To be resting his weighty cock on top of your pretty ass just to have you simply accept it as par for the course.

And though he'd love to take his time with you, to really enjoy everything you have to offer, to make you cry on his cock— he's been wanting this for a long time. Seething in secrecy, longing for a taste of your sweet sister cunt; he can't wait any longer. Not now that he has your unvoiced blessing, watching as you bury your face back into your pillow and wiggle your ass against his cock— fuck, you already feel so good against him.

"C'mon then," Your voice is muffled, but nonetheless encouraging. A pang of pain in his heart at the way you seem to be wanting him too, a comfortable hurt borne out of disgusting adoration for the one person he isn't supposed to have. And here you are, supporting his lewd love for you. Releasing one of your wrists with the intent to get a move on like you're asking, but instead his hand stops mid air when he witnesses you tugging down your shorts for him. "Before mom and dad get back, okay? Just want you out my room so don't... I don't wanna do it when they're here."

"Fuck me—"

He hears your stipulation, of course. It makes total fucking sense. Fucking his little sister? Perfectly fine. Fucking his little sister when other people are in the house? Fucking weird, don't fucking do that. But he curses loud and proud at the sight of your no panties, like you knew he was coming in to steal you away for the night. Had he stolen your pair tonight? He can't quite remember, mind empty beyond the thought of finally attaining what he's worked so tirelessly for. Helping you pull down your shorts the rest of the way; or at least until they rest by your ankles because he's too eager to get his cock wet already.

Immediately, impulsively, he spreads your legs wide enough to accommodate him. Letting go of your other wrist to allow you breathing room, but also so he can selfishly explore your body. Running his hands up and down your ass, spanking you a few times for good measure. Cock pulsing at the yelps his hands smack out of you, biting down on his bottom lip when he drops his pants low enough only to let his cock spring free. The cool air that hits his sopping tip is almost sobering, if not for the way you pout his name so prettily. An effortless attempt to turn him on, no doubt.

"Yeah yeah, I got it. Want me to hurry up and fuck my slut, right?" He sneers, not even gracing you with eye contact as he spreads your cheeks apart to get a greedy look at your holes. His hips fucking forward on their own at the small glimpse he gets, prompting him to hang his head in shame so that you don't catch the way his cheeks heat up. How the idea of keeping you all to himself, truly turning his baby sister into his little slut fills him with so much joy that he can't help himself from rubbing his cock against your ass, humping his hips against you in barely there snap thrusts just to provide himself some sort of stimulation. Just something to take the edge off as he gathers the courage to put it in already.

Because once he does, he knows he won't be able to stop. And that's a little worrying, considering he's so used to having control over you.

He hadn't intended to wait for you to respond to his rhetorical question, but the way you practically beg "Please." is music to his ears. God, he can't even compare it to the countless faceless sluts he's fucked in the past, completely focused on how his baby sister drips slick for his tip to collect, angling his cock down to catch on your pretty little hole for the first time ever.

And it feels so fucking good to finally have contact with you like this, holy shit. Even just letting precum bead out against your hole would be enough, he thinks. Enough to have him feeling better than he has before, dirty slut, you've only went and ruined his hand for the rest of his life. You better fucking own up to that, yeah? Let him cream your cunt with the intent of knocking you up so that he can be your big brother for life, that'd be a good start, don't you think?

With the way you wiggle against him, leaking all over his cock as if he wasn't providing you enough lubrication with the abundance of precum your simple existence coaxes out of him, he automatically rolls his hips into you. Into your cunt. Gasping for air the second he pushes past your entrance, choking at the way your insides wrap around his tip, and soon enough his whole length when he can't stop himself from ruining his pretty little sister now that you've given him permission.

And after the first few little humps he has you endure, he's settling an unfairly fast pace. Pent up frustration, almost resentment expressed in every relentless thrust over how fucking perfect you are, so much so that your cunt practically shuts him up for once in his lifetime spare some crass comments about your pretty body, or about how fuckin' tight are you? fuck, can barely fit inside, God, look at how pretty my little slut is bouncing on my cock. Mean words as an attempt to hide how downright in love he is with you, how he wants to fuck only baby sister cunt for the rest of his life, moaning openly at the sound of wet skin on skin slapping with how hard and fast he thrusts into you. Like a dog in heat, drool collects in his mouth as his eyes roll to the back of his skull, hands innately finding home on your hips for stability, like they were always meant to be there.

You feel so fucking good it's cruel, cock aching with every pulse your cunt offers around him, every suck of your insides begging to keep his cock inside as he repeatedly fucks you up the bed. You were right, it's best to do this was no one else at home, else you get exposed for being the dirty little sister slut that you are— taking big brothers cock so well, aren't you? Fucking made for him, babbling cute strings of nothing from how frantic his humps are, accidentally cutting you off mid mumble with every greedy fuck; he just can't stop himself. Hasn't a hope in Hell of showing a mere modicum of control while inside of you, head empty and cock hard for you.

And as he's fully sheathed inside, groaning out at the feeling of his balls slapping against your backside, intimate with the way his thighs are tacky like your own from every gush of your wet little cunt around his too big cock, he remembers exactly what he came here to do. The sole reason why you're a moaning mess on your bed right now, tangling the sheets in your cute little fists as if that was gonna help the stretch of his fat cock bullying your insides. His voice comes out hoarse, having to choke on a cough to clear the lust coating his tongue as he continues pumping away inside of you.

"Gonna fuck ya pregnant, kay?

Almost immediately, lagging a little from that good dick, aren't you slut? You start to whine. That same petulant tone you used earlier, and just like earlier, it goes straight to his throbbing cock, makes his balls all taut and his muscles all tense as he keeps you pinned in place with large hands. Greedy hands, bruising in their grip of your body so that you know who's in charge. So that you can't escape him, this is all for your own good, remember?

"Whit— don't, stop I— Ah—!" It's no use though, is it? His cock feels too good in your tight little cunt, big brother just wants to make you feel good, okay? He just wants to feel your cunt suck him off so well, your body is begging for his seed, right? And because he's such a good big brother, he's more than happy to give you a taste. Over and over again, until his seed takes to your womb and you're stuck with him for life, tension building in his tummy at the thought of walking around with you hand in hand, big pregnant belly scaring off anyone who even dares to look at his sister. His slut, whining like a pretty bitch as he drags your ass back down to meet his every thrust, can you feel how desperate he is for release? So eager to stain your insides white in an effort to prevent others from touching you, to keep you safe forever; it's just big brother duties, it's okay if dumb little sister minds can't understand his reasoning. All you have to do is lay there and fucking take it. Take his pounding, take the pinches and slaps on your ass, take his sticky precum coating your thighs, just as well as he honours the ring of your cream at the base of his cock. You're so pretty, his eyes trained on the spot where he disappears over and over again into your tight little hole, greedy little cunt. But he's fucking it too fast for it to truly capture his attention, instead his head is thrown back with a dopey grin tugging on his lips, sheer pleasure rolling down his spine with a gasped: "Shut up, doin'— 'M doin' ya favour. Fuuuck, jus' like that—" before shooting a load deep into your sister cunt. Still fucking himself through the orgasm that washes over him, that has him drooling from how fucking good it feels to finally claim you as his own, hopeful that his stink will scare off anyone else from even attempting to get close to you in order to abuse you the same way he has tonight.

And, if he's lucky, the continued thrusts he provides your tender, swollen hole, milking himself for all he's worth against your cervix, he'll have successfully filled you up enough to impregnate you. Doesn't that feel good? Poor baby was probably just a little worried like he was, right? His breathing is laboured, heaving for air by the time he's done emptying his balls inside of you, but still the first thing he does is collapses on top of you. Smiles to himself at the soft little oof you let out with his added weight, but he's not here just to laze around.

From now on, you're officially his. And he likes to take good care of his sluts, especially if they're as precious as his little sister. Step or not, he cares about you enough to wrap his big arms around you with a chaste kiss to the back of your head, hiding his face against your neck to nose at your scent as he calms down.

"Gross." You whine at his affections, and he agrees. Rolling you over onto his side with him so that he can sneak a hand between your legs, warming his spent cock in your hole still as he brings attention to your puffy, touch starved clit. The resulting moan you let out is thanks enough for securing your future with him.

Though, what's worse is that he's thinking about doing the exact same thing tomorrow, planning to leave the house only once.

You'll need some pregnancy tests, won't you?

[merakiui]

Ooohhh that Squid game x twst post got me thinking that reader at first only got close to Floyd cause they knew their chances of winning is so low, and they needed to stick the the one guy who has the highest chances of surviving (aka our eel guy right here).

So like, reader just spend their first nights trying to get on Floyd's good side (maybe invite him to the bathroom for a round of sex or two), but then in the end it was Floyd who fell hard for reader.

(Ough, but speaking of squid game also got me thinking bout Ruggie cause that dude is sure gonna use every trick up his sleeve to win.)

AAAAA YES OMG you see the vision!!!!

Floyd and reader becoming allies!!!! <3 T_T in true shrimp and moray eel fashion, it's perfect mutualism. I think Floyd might be annoyed at first when you so obviously kiss up to him and try so pathetically to earn his approval so he'll protect you. But you must be serious if you're offering yourself to him in the bathroom, and of course he plasters you to the stall wall and fucks you like an animal in heat. >:) he's not going to say no to a good offer, especially when his shrimpy is so fun to be around. Floyd falls for you when you offer him your food and he just stares at you in disbelief as he realizes you might genuinely care for him. In the end, he forces you to take his food because he doesn't want it and also because "Shrimpy needs it more than I do."

He lightheartedly teases you for being weak, but the minute it seems like your life might be in jeopardy he's on high alert and ready to do whatever it takes to save you. <3 aaaaa he loves you so, so much!!!! And it hurts because Floyd knows your time with him is dwindling to a close, but he clings to every second he has with you, foolishly hoping the two of you can win this and live a happy life together.

Omg Ruggie!!!! He's so determined to do whatever it takes. In my eyes, he deserves the money the most, but then maybe I'm biased because I like Ruggie and believe he should be given the world hehe. He plays to win and so he's not swayed by the others' sob stories. Everyone's here because their life sucks and they're suffering financially; that's just how it is, but he has a grandmother he wishes to return to and he needs this money more than he's ever needed anything before. And he has such a high chance at winning because he's so resourceful and cunning. The sheer determination of one hyena.... orz

Also, Azul as Sang-woo?????? They're both so calculating and cutthroat..... maybe it's also because they both wear glasses and the idea of Azul, covered in blood and without his glasses, is very attractive to me. orz that scene where Sang-woo, in his impatience, pushes a man to his death and is like, "Why don't you find out?" (in reference to whether the glass panel will break or not) WOOOOOOO HE'S THE WORST. I need him. Picturing Azul in those sorts of scenes... scary, vicious tako is my favorite.

[onomatopoetic101999]

Chapter Five: Icarian

Chapter Five B: Introspection

Ignis Fatuus Masterlist

------

Icarian: relating to or characteristic of Icarus, especially in being excessively ambitious

------

That next evening finds you creeping forward in a crouch, digipicking the locked door the scanner was pointing to the night before. It's a difficult nut to crack, but you figure it out in a matter of seconds. When the door silently swings open, Sam sighs behind you.

"I will never get over smart you are."

You glance back to smile at him before rolling through the door, staying as silent as possible. You take out your scanner again and shift your stance, trying to find the direction of the frequency disturbances. It leads you deeper into the forbidden hall, and you thank your lucky stars that the walkways don't seem to be patrolled.

Now that you were closer to the Artifact, the readings were becoming more consistent. It only takes you a few minutes to find the entrance to a cave, although it's blocked with yet another locked door. You look back at Sam, who nods at you.

After you successfully hack it, the door swings open in a similar way to the previous one. This time, however, the other side is crawling with Paradiso guards.

You're glad you had the forethought to bring your chameleon pack, it's tech turning you invisible when you're still. It's painstakingly slow, but you manage to successfully sneak past every guard until your deep in the mine.

You don't even need your scanner at this point, being able to follow how gravity shifts in response to the Artifact's power. It sits before you buried deep in the rock of the wall. You're surprised the Paradiso leadership hasn't started a viewing for it yet, but then you note how recently the rocks have been broken. The Artifact couldn't have been unearthed more than a day ago.

You double check for more guards in the surrounding area before standing, using your cutter to release the Artifact from its prison in the wall. You make sure Sam is prepared to defend you once you're incapacitated, and then reach out and grab the Artifact.

The familiar series of images and sounds overwhelm your senses, making you entirely unaware of reality for a few dangerous seconds.

When you come to, Sam is standing by the door, gun trained on it in case any guards notice the change in gravity. When he sees that you're awake, he runs over to help you up before you both head back out of the cave.

You make it as far as the empty hallways when a Starborn appears in front of you. He opens fire, and while you kill him quickly, the sounds of the fight draw the guards out.

You hear a loud, "Hey! Stop right there!" behind you, and you try not to panic. Fighting Starborn was one thing, but the sheer number of guards was overwhelming, not to mention the fact they were completely innocent. You needed to find somewhere to hide, and fast.

Sam grabs your hand and begins to sprint, turning every other corner, trying to lose the guards behind you. You make it out of the restricted section of the basement, but you can hear them continuing to give chase.

You make a left at the end of the hall and are met with your worst nightmare: a dead end. The night club of the retreat stands before you both, and you try not to hyperventilate at what that means. This was the only entrance. You were trapped. Sam skids to a stop when you get inside and turns to you.

"Okay, there's gotta be a way out of this..."

You look back to where you came, hearing the guards' steps coming ever closer under the bass of the music, and bite your lip anxiously. It was dark, maybe you could just start dancing...?

Suddenly, Sam's hand leaves yours and he rests his palms on your hips, guiding you quickly but gently backwards towards the nearest wall. When your back hits it, he grasps your chin and tilts it up, making your eyes shift from where they're scanning the entrance to the club to meeting his. They're lidded, pupils larger than normal, and his thumb reaches up to tug under your bottom lip, releasing it from where you've been biting it.

"Now Darlin', I'm gonna need you to trust me for the next few seconds. Do you trust me?" His voice is deeper, raspier than it usually is.

You nod without hesitation, confused, but too caught up in worry to notice him leaning down to you. At your confirmation, his tongue peeks out to sweep across his lips, he takes a deep, steadying breath, and the hand still on your hip slides around to the small of your back, pulling you up against him.

"Good,"

As you faintly hear one of the guards shout, "they went this way!" outside, Sam presses his lips to yours.

The second your lips touch, a realization hits you like lightning, any thought of guards or Artifacts or Starborn vanishing. Oh. Oh. You are in love with Sam Coe.

As he uses your gasp as an opportunity, brushing his tongue against yours while his fingers tighten on your chin, you think back to every interaction you've had with him with a new light. Every smile, every wink, every teasing "Darlin',"... how had you been so blind? You hadn't been flustered just because he was hot; you're entirely, unchangeably in love with him. You're in love with Sam Coe, he is kissing you, and you are doing nothing about it!

You lean into him and wrap your arms around his neck. This is what had been bothering you! You hadn't wanted to pretend because you'd wanted it to be real. He smiles against your mouth. You take solace in the fact that, based on his kiss, he feels the same way. You decide to talk about it later. For right now...

You sink a hand into his hair, and Sam growls. The hand on your chin slides down to just under your jaw, which he tilts up with his thumb as he starts to press open mouth kisses along your neck, beard scratching gently the whole way down. He wedges one of his knees between your thighs, and he hikes up one of yours to rest on his hip. He mouths at your collar bone for a moment before dragging his lips back up to just below your ear, pressing kisses there too.

By now your breathing is nearly frantic, your chest rising and falling against Sam's at a rapid pace. You let out a surprised gasp when he nips at your jaw, and you feel him smirk against your cheek. You breathe out a laugh in response.

How have you survived so long without this? Every sense is consumed by him, to the point where you think if someone asked you a question, you're pretty sure Sam's name would be the only thing coming out of your mouth. His lips are against your neck, the strands of his hair weaved between your fingers, the smell of sandalwood and leather in your nose; he breathes out a quiet sigh of your name, and the neon lights of the club blur as your eyes close involuntarily. Sam, Sam, Sam...

You're so wrapped up in him, in the realization, in this, that it isn't until his other hand grabs one of yours and brings it to the holster on his belt that you fully understand what his motivation is. Your eyes shoot open and you grasp the handle of the gun with shaking fingers. How could you be so naive? Sam didn't mean any of this. He hadn't been sincere this entire mission, remember? You finally understand what you've been feeling, and none of this is...

He sucks a mark onto the point where your neck and jaw meet, and you scan the entrance to the club, trying to keep the tears you feel rising up at bay. This isn't real.

The guards enter in a rush and your fingers tighten on the gun and in Sam's hair. He hums against your skin in response. They take a few steps in, scanning the area, before turning and leaving. The hand on the outside of your knee skims higher, tightening as Sam keeps mouthing along your neck. This isn't real!

You grab his shoulders and shove, pushing him a few inches away from you. He lets go of you immediately and almost stumbles, glancing behind him to check that the guards are gone before turning back to you.

"Darlin', are you o-"

"Don't! Don't call me that. Just-"

You lean heavily against the wall and throw a hand up to stop him when he opens his mouth to speak again.

He's still much too close. Mouth wet and swollen from so many kisses and chest heaving from the loss of breath. He's so... beautiful. Every exhale still brushes air across your face, and you close your eyes to hide the fact that you're two seconds from crying.

"I need to get some air. Do not follow me."

His hands raise to try and comfort you, and you back away from him, all but running out of the club and down the hall again. When you find a bathroom, you bolt inside, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

None of that had been real. You're in love with Sam, he just gave you the best kiss of your life, and he hadn't meant a single second of it.

You bury your head in your arms where they rest on your bent knees. A sob heaves out of your mouth. None of that was real...

------

Chapter Five B: Introspection

[readbetween]

here you will find my long-held Sam/Diane thoughts under a 'read more' due to the sheer magnitude of wordcount, lol.

this post largely bends toward the light of the latest frasier reboot news, which is that for its upcoming second season, "kelsey grammer hopes to give sam and diane a happy ending."

if you're strapped for time just consider reading my rawest essay instead:

this is a somewhat contrarian viewpoint in the cheers fandom, especially among those who ship sam and diane, but i sincerely believe that sam and diane not being "end game" in canon in and of itself is narratively tight; it's the execution of it which isn't. their lost love is the foremost reason for their continued emotional impact/TV legacy. in short, cheers was not just a TV sitcom but a social satire. at its best, it finely crafted commentaries about how relationships can fail when we allow social expectations to interfere in our lives and projected self-images. i don't think that sam and diane would carry the emotional resonance they do if they had Thoroughly resolved this together, and yet, this is the paradox of sam/diane: not resolving it is the very wall the writers hit with them.

when shelley decided to leave the series at the end of s5, the writers' flimsy conclusion for why sam and diane must end their engagement is because diane needed to focus on her writing career instead of a marriage (as if women couldn't do both by the 1980's). stronger writing would have presented any other given reason for why their relationship had been under strain, as well as imputed the lack of support from the people around them who were supposedly their friends, but were more interested in upholding the status quo which led to sam and diane's respective self-alienation and loneliness

but the flip-side of this is even if shelley had stayed sam and diane would have.... grown tiresome... for them to work out long-term, cheers would have had to adjust the social commentaries these characters were designed for and i frankly don't think they would have rose to that challenge. (my evidence for this is s6 and onward where we see sam gradually become a caricature of his former self and the writing starts to diminish, for why?!). i suspect we'd have witnessed a continued will-they-won't-they, likely refashioned as exhausting, uninteresting marital quarrels, i.e., the same old song and dance just in a different tempo which would have ran its course years prior. messy.

so by the s11 finale when diane returns to cheers and sam and diane become engaged.. again.. only to break the engagement, again, (and here's where i'd like to circle back to the frasier reboot news), there is no working through of ANY of those "interferences" to make this next attempt at a relationship work between them. the s11 finale is simply a repeat of s5's. feelings are still strong between them, how hot do you like it, but the writers opt for flimsy writing that's essentially: hey i still love you but we didn't work before, so why would we work now? without real reflection as to WHY they didn't in ~conclusion~, the cheers writers made a point. as flimsy as the execution was both times, sam and diane's relationship failed because they did not ultimately challenge what they allowed to hold them back. at this point, so late in the game, i think they should stick with that in canon rather than happily ever after them, because lost love has been their impact despite how weakly it was written. i nonetheless find the concept highly salient & in keeping with the genre of the show

but, if you know me you know i am not anti-fix-it. at all.

i think that sam and diane were the Loves of Each Other's lives. i truly do. just by existing in proximity to each other they would Unmask, and actively reflect upon the world they were living in to make it better for themselves and their relationships. when it was good, god, was it good.

but the way i see them working out long-term would have gone against the grain of cheers as a social satire, but specifically, and most exactingly, against the points the writers wanted to author, and, further, the way the writers chose to author those points and social commentary. for sam and diane to work, they needed to be freed from the mechanisms of the genre which restricted them. it's as if they became too strong for the writers to know what to do with them.

even if shelley stayed for the long-haul a relationship wouldn't have worked because for a Happily Ever After diane could not have remained employed at the cheers bar, and that would have cut shelley's screentime substantially or relegated diane to minor character status. she needed to actualize her goals and ambitions outside of cheers.

i'm very fond of sam/diane fix-its, but i'd argue that there's a place for them, and it isn't canon. it hasn't been up to kelsey grammer to fix sam and diane, but us fans who have sat with them and inherently offer other worlds

[coldvampire]

He has only just recently learned that Katherine the Toreador is Katerina the Ventrue, and he wants to be mad at the deception on the principle of the thing, but he understands--no one is out for Katherine's head, so that makes it easy, especially when you're alone like she is. He can't count how many times he's insisted she doesn't have to be, if she'd only just learn to be more honest with herself. Who is Katherine? He doesn't know, but Katerina has a place here in LA with the rest of the Anarchs, if she would take it. She's got the righteous fury and the cunning to make it far and be a bigger thorn in the Camarilla's side that she knows. But he's got her fear to contend with, which is no small entity. The only space she wants to take at the moment is in his arms, pressing her lips against his. Nines is taken aback by the sheer hunger of it all, but then again, perhaps peeling back the layers of her safety net warranted such a response. She wants him to take control, so she moulds her body to his and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down, down, down to her level. Katerina, Katerina, Katerina. It rolls through his head like a hymn, and he knows that if he breaks away to ask her anything, he'll only get more desperate touches in response.

She's leaving again, and he doesn't want it to happen. Anger covers up the ache blossoming in his chest when she turns to leave the bed, and he grabs her back down into the sheets before she can protest. She's mad too--she hates being contained when it isn't something she's asked for, but he thinks that if he lets her go now, she'll shatter once that door closes behind her. She wants to stay, but she's terrified. Whether it's because she's worried for herself or worried she'll get him hurt, he doesn't know. There's something brewing in the streets, something volatile and vile and exactly the sort of situation she wouldn't want to find herself in the middle of. He can't promise safety in a physical sense, but he can pretend so long as it's just the two of them in his room. There's too much teeth in the kiss--Nines hopes that it's intentional when she nicks her tongue on one of his fangs. The drops of her vitae become ambrosia in his mouth, and it makes him greedy. She'll still leave, he knows that, but she follows him down when he wraps a selfish arm around her waist.

He's late. He is extremely late. Damsel, Skelter, everyone else--they'll be wondering where he is. He doesn't care. He's never cared about anything less in his life, in fact. All that matters is the here and now. They got sloppy and stupid and too drunk-on each other to keep track of who was feeding on who. He understands how ghouls come to be addicted to this. There's an unholy mess in his bed and around the room, hand prints in red showcasing where she had to brace herself against the wall or the dresser when he made her knees buckle again and again and again. The sound of her breathy sighs is intoxicating when he licks wounds shut, tracing lines of vitae up her neck. He needs her like he's never needed anything before, needs to smell her on his sheets long after they're done, needs to run his hands along the panes of her body, tangle them up in her hair and get lost somewhere in the blown-wide pupils of her green eyes. Each kiss leaves a deep crimson smear in its wake, and he swears he's never felt happier.

She's left, and he thinks it might be for good this time. She was just as insatiable for it as he was, just as lost in lust and vitae and something resembling genuine love. The pain is worse than the soaring high. It was never enjoyable in the past, when he'd woken up to an empty bed, but this? This was torture, white-hot and bright in his chest, and he's never been more livid. He tells himself it's the betrayal, but knows he would fall to his knees for her in a second if she would walk through that door. Touching his mouth, he can feel the ghost of her lips there, outlined in lipstick and vitae.

How many years has it been? Too long and not long enough. Kat is bittersweet; he won't even try to deny how much he missed feeling her against his chest or the soft reverence of her kisses. Everything she does is slower and almost ashamed, and he doesn't even try to tell himself that he can convince her to stay. She's the epitome of stubbornness, dead-set on the idea that she can protect him from herself. He knows she thinks she's some sort of curse, and he knows that he's never heard a bigger lie. She's missed him too. It feels like every action is an apology--if she were successful, if she were strong, she wouldn't be here right now, wouldn't be setting them both up to be hurt later on. He kisses her deeper, pulls her close, tries to be something stable, and if he didn't know better, he would say she's trembling, just like she would if she were crying.

She's in his bed again. Smiling, comfortable, lounging like she belongs there. She does. She reaches for him, and allows him to meet her halfway. Permission, an open door, something he was starting to think would never be a reality. It won't be a full time thing, at least on paper. Separate havens, so she doesn't 'suffocate' him with her taste in home decor. He would be fine with it, he's sure, if it meant he could feel her weight tucked safely against his chest every sunrise. She'll be here most of the time, if the way she can't keep her hands off of him is any indication. He luxuriates in every kiss, commits everything to memory. He counts the sparse number of freckles on her back over and over again--five, if he's counting the two that travel down her hip and thigh. This is what he's been waiting for, what he knew, sooner that he liked to admit, he wanted. For all the frustrations, he thinks that this is as close to perfection as people like them can get. The city lights beyond the window pane paint a shimmering outline on her body, and he kisses her for what feels like the hundredth time that night. And then, because he can, and because he will never get enough of this, he does it again, and again, and again.

[the-busy-ghost]

Ah yes, nothing better when you’re sleep deprived than wrestling a dirty sash and case window at 1AM, three stories up. 

[captainstiddies]

Little One ; Lawyer! Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

a/n: this is my first time in like years posting smut so be gentle lol, but massive thank you to @illumisbundles for being my test dummy and helping with the title and everything love u!!

universe: modern, lawyer! Levi

pairing: Levi Ackerman x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT MINORS DON'T INTERACT LIKE AT ALL, jealous!Levi, edging, dacryphilia, slight overstim, daddy kink, dom!Levi

Levi was always incredibly formal, always a firm handshake and a cordial nod at these types of events. He always had a firm hand on your back leading you through the crowds of people at the annual gala. He was already so stand-offish on the day to day but having to be surrounded by every single one of his rich clients whose only problem was picking which summer home to visit this year was headache-inducing. Having you by his side, however, made it so much more manageable. The way you could navigate any conversation with a graceful smile while always finding a quick way out, made these events much more pleasing for the lawyer.

He tapped your back twice signalling silently that he was going to get a refill on drinks and you nodded pressing a kiss against his temple as he walked towards the bar. Leaving you standing at a small table by yourself, it wasn't long until one of his interns had approached you sparking up a lively conversation. At first, it wasn't a big deal you learned his name was Eren Yaeger and it was his first gala and he at first just seemed nervous until you could tell he started leaning in a little closer, complimenting your 'form'. And when you met eyes with your boyfriend across the room you could see him seething.

Even with how logical Levi was he couldn't help how jealous he became whenever he saw someone flirting with you. Especially when they were almost a good foot taller than him and still taller than you in your heels. He stalked back towards you and by the time Eren even noticed you weren't interested Levi was beside you again this time his hand was gripping your waist, bunching the fabric of your dress. "Yaeger, don't you have better things to do than annoy her?" His stern voice could've made Eren shit in his pants if he hadn't rented the tux, so he almost ran away from the table.

Turning towards Levi you went to speak but instead, you were met with that look in his eyes that already had heat pooling between your legs. "Downstairs, get the car I'll be down in five minutes." With that, he kisses your cheek walking to Erwin to make some excuse that you both have to leave, and without a second thought, you gather your coat and clutch and head towards the elevator.

Your crossed legs bounced as you waited in the backseat of the car, the driver simply smoking as he leant against the wall. You on the other hand couldn't seem to relax knowing exactly what punishment you were going to be given. When the driver swung open his door you jolted upright and less than a second later Levi slid into the seat beside you adjusting his jacket and tapping on the divider signalling to the chauffer to leave. For most of the ride Levi's silent, his hand placed firmly on your thigh squeezing just enough to remind you what you were in for when you got home.

The minute Levi let you into your condo he pulled you into a searing kiss, his hands gripping your hair before he pushes you against the wall. "Levi..." His glare silences you before you can continue before picking you up by your thighs, instinctively causing your legs to wrap around his waist. Levi's lips attach to the soft skin of your neck, sucking and biting harshly intent on leaving marks in his wake. He carried you to your bedroom before letting you fall onto the sheets and Levi had to admit he loved seeing you like this, dress up over your hips, lipstick smudged across your mouth, your heaving chest showcasing the already developing array of reds and purples marks along your neck.

His hands came to run along the skin of your thighs as he sighed. "Oh angel, do you know how much Yaeger truly angers me? He acts like everything belongs to him, and you played right into that didn't ya?" His eyebrow cocked as he looked down at you but all you could focus on was the feeling of his index finger ghosting over your clothed pussy. "Answer me." His command is followed by a swift slap to the outside of your thigh, watching as the skin jiggled. "No! No, I swear Daddy." He tsked at your pathetic plea before finally rubbing against your clit through your panties eliciting a moan to fall from your lips. "Little one, don't lie, I know exactly what you did, you showed him just how low cut that dress was, you let him think he could have you but no. You're mine." Pushing your panties to the side he slid his fingers into your already slick core, curling against the spongey spot inside of you. Setting an intense pace he leaned over you.

"Say it, don't make me ask twice angel." Levi's hot breath against your ear sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm yours, all yours, please I'm all yours-Please." You begged a hand going to his shoulder to steady yourself as the heel of his hand hit against your clit eliciting a lewd moan to leave your lips. Levi snickered as he lowered to his knees. "Use your words little one." He knew you like the back of his hand he knew from the minute he entered the car he knew he had you all riled up the way each time he squeezed your thigh a little harder and you would jump. Now even with his fingers knuckle deep inside you he could read you like a book the way you rolled your hips at each curl of his fingers or the shiver and whine that came from him blowing cool air against your skin.

"I want your mouth, hnn Daddy please i-I'll be good I promise." Your voice hitched as he pulled his fingers from inside you, a whine leaving you as Levi hooked his fingers into the band of your panties pulling them down and throwing them over his shoulder the smirk never left his lips nor did his eyes ever leave yours as he lowered his mouth to your now soaked pussy. He blew cold air against your clit causing you to jolt and whine out for him a hand going to his hair before Levi grabbed your wrist. "Hands above your head angel, one-touch and you won't cum for the rest of the fucking week." You did what you were told and when he was satisfied he sucked your clit into his mouth causing a loud moan to leave your lips gripping tightly at the sheets above your head, back arching as he continued his assault on your clit.

Levi slid his fingers back into your aching core curling up against your g-spot. You were getting close and he could tell from the way you clenched around his fingers at each thrust and from how desperately you were clinging onto the sheets trying to be his good girl."'M so close daddy- Fuck! So close so fucking close, please!" Sadly, your cries fell on deaf ears as you felt the knot tighten in your stomach until Levi pulled away completely. "Bad girls don't get to cum."

Levi continued his attack on your pussy bring you to the edge over and over again until you were crying for him to just fuck you. You were a blubbering mess when he finally rose from his knees, from where he was standing he towered over you, was able to look over your naked form. The dress had been discarded almost ten minutes ago your body was twitching and shaking from the sheer amount of times your orgasm had been ruined. Levi wiped your slick from his chin as he watched you pant. Your eyes glazed over with tears as he undid his belt and pulled his pants and boxers off. Levi slowly worked his hand along his cock, precum already slowly spilling from the swollen tip. Grabbing you from beneath your knees he pushed your legs against your chest, exposing your spasming pussy to him.

He pushed himself into your tight walls, a low groan came from his chest as he bottomed out. "Still so fucking tight angel, so fucking perfect." He started his pace slow and deep rolling his hips against yours every time, hitting your cervix with each roll. It didn't take long for that knot to tighten again inside you, Levi's lips met yours in a bruising kiss, you could still taste yourself on his tongue causing an almost pornographic moan to leave you. The second his free hand came to your clit rubbing hard and fast circles your hands flew to his shoulders. "Please, oh god! Please 'm gonna cum!" This time however he didn't pull away instead he moved his lips to your shoulder biting against the soft skin. A scream ripped through you as the white-hot of your orgasm moved through your body.

Watching you come undone just drove Levi crazy, his thrusts turned erratic as he came closer and closer to his own edge his fingers never stopping as he made you jolt from the overstimulation "No, no daddy, I can't." Your cries were masked by the absolutely lewd sounds coming from your pussy as Levi pistoned into you. "You've been begging to-fuck cum for an hour angel, Jesus Christ can't take another one?" his head fell forward resting his forehead against yours as he pressed further against your legs with his chest his free hand came to your neck squeezing it as he watched you cry from pleasure, the orgasm almost catching you by surprise. You clawed at his back as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

Levi snapped his hips into you one more time as he let out a low groan quickly followed by thick hot spurts of cum. Pulling out he watched as a mixture of yours and his cum dripped from your fluttering and gaping hole. He was tempted to finger it back into you, maybe if you got pregnant no one would ever act as if you were free to be picked up like a common whore. His eyes scanned up your body and landed on your tear-streaked face. "Little one, look at me... c'mon open those pretty eyes." He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against the damp skin of your cheekbone. Slowly you opened your eyes a hand coming to rest on his. "There's my pretty girl." He cooed softly as he kissed your forehead. Standing up he went to the ensuite damping a towel for your face and another to clean you up. Pulling on a clean pair of boxers he sat beside you running the cool cloth against your skin cleaning you as best he could until your shower in the morning.

Once you were situated under the covers he pulled you into his side, pressing soft kisses along your hairline, rubbing gentle circles along your spine. "You were so good for me little one, I love you so much don't forget it ever, please." His voice was soft as he whispered against your skin. Sleepily you nodded, your body was still sore and would probably be tenfold in the morning. "Levi...I love you too, 'm not gonna leave you for some stupid intern, you know that right?" It was his turn to nod, reaching over to turn off the table lamp. "I know angel, sleep now. You need to rest."

[colossal-fallout]

Mercy ☄

Fem reader X Erwin Smith

Warnings ⚠️

NSFW. 18+ only. Smut. Slight daddy kink and slight degradation.

Tagging: @clovertitan & @jour-de-printemps I know someone is on my veteran tag list, but I've lost it. Please submit it again via the ask box.

You weren't sure exactly what you were doing.

It was as if you were on autopilot; your mind a haze as your heated, desperate body took over - possessed by the succubus demon residing deep within your soul. So much pent up sexual frustration has broken the barrier between your common sense and sheer hysteria. You'd been touch starved for weeks. Your lover far too busy at all times for such interactions. Especially this month with the upcoming expedition. You craved his touch, the firm yet gentle grasping of your flesh and how oh - so - attentive he was to your needs. How he's mapped your body, knowing every single week spot you have an exploiting them with a venomous greed; one nip from his fangs injects you with his own poison, paralysing you with lust.

Yet here you were, tears almost forming in your eyes from how hungry you were for him. For your lover. Who, as you approach the study, is just now behind that solid oak door.

And God, you could go on forever about how magical is cock is. So large and fat, built for nothing but giving pleasure and releasing his own pressures out from his large, testosterone filled sacks. Ones built for impregnation and nothing else. As soon as that large dick pushed its way into you for the first time, you were hooked. The sweetest dose of Heroine known to mankind as his shape dragged against your walls so perfectly, each push of his hips is like a small orgasm within themselves.

And yet... here you were almost a month without him. Your trembling fist ready to alert him of your presence outside of his office. Your thighs squeeze together as your warm, dripping cunt begs to be touched. Your panties stick to you uncomfortably, the thick liquid of your arousal slowly seeping through the cloth as you tap the door with your knuckles.

You don't know if you could take rejection. If he turns you down, you're not sure what you'll do. Scream? Cry? It was anyone's guess. All you know is you don't think you'll survive another night without his knowing invasions of your body.

"Enter."

Even just his low, rumbled voice sends vibrations through the air and between your legs as your breath hitches and you hurriedly enter inside the room.

His head snaps up from his paperwork - as if sensing who it was before locking his orbs onto your form; his thick brows raising in surprise.

"Your name, I wasn't expecting to see you tonight."

Your mouth opens, yet your reply is a choked silence. Asphyxiation entwined your throat as your once well constructed sale's pitch of your body turns to mush at the sight of his large form, the authoritative aura flowing off him and rolling across the room.

You silently close the door, not yet giving up as you approach him, your eyes already watering, begging him for mercy.

He waits patiently, sensing something was obviously wrong.

You crumble. Your plan in smouldering ruins as you slam both hands onto his desk.

"Erwin. I know you're busy. But please... God I need you. Take me. I'm begging you."

He blinks in perplexion for a moment, before his face rests into a smirk. A low chuckle vibrating his broad chest.

"You're that desperate, are you?"

The tone of his voice is a little cold. Cruel even. His own spark of lust igniting behind his ocean blues at the sight of you squirming so needing before him.

Sitting back in his chair, his large legs splay open, the hand that was free from his quill patting his thigh.

"Come. Let daddy make it all better."

Your elation at his words couldn't be hidden as you whimper almost pathetically; scurrying around and straddling his leg, his arm snaking around your lower back and gripping your hip.

"Go right ahead. Use me." He instructs as he refocused on his work.

You didn't care - you were just glad to have something of him; your hands grabbing his leather jacket as you immediately begin to rock your hips against his thigh. The warmth of him seeping up through your material and onto your twitching pussy as you grind, already panting like a bitch in heat. His thick, solid thigh feels so damn good against you, the muscle definition could be felt with easy through the cloth.

Your pleasure builds up pretty quick, your heated face burying into his chest as you whine, knuckles tightening and your breath hitches as his free arm absent mindedly begins to assist your movements.

"Oh, Erwin... Erwin..." you whisper as you glance down and see the buldge in his trousers growing bigger and bigger, snaking down his other thigh.

It's becoming increasingly harder to focus on his work; instead, opting to sit back and enjoy the view of you humping him like a pathetic little dog. Feeling a little pang of mercy, his fingers begin to unbutton your shirt at a painfully slow pace, your entire body aflame and begging to feel his touch.

Eventually he frees your breasts, his large, broad shoulders hunching over as he takes one into his warm mouth - your head throwing back as his wet muscle flicks your nub, sucking and nipping, your rhythm picking up and stuttering.

He removes his mouth, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to you for a moment as he sits back, holding your wrists and pulling your hands onto one of his leather leg straps of his uniform.

"I said use me."

You nod, holding onto the strap like a cruelly place rein on a steed as you use it as leverage to rock harder, his leg slowly raising and lowering you up and down as he watches with a clouded amusement.

"Ah, Erwin... I'm close..." you whine. "P-please, touch me again. Please..."

"You want me that bad, darling?" He sighs, thumbing your nipple.

"Yes!"

Your need for him reaches a critical breaking point.

Without another word, he grabs your hips and lifts you onto the desk with ease - pushing papers onto the floor as if he hadn't just spent all day carefully and meticulously keeping them neat and ordered. His large hand pushes you onto your back and before you could blink, he's pulling off your trousers and soaked panties off your legs - your pussy gleaming, overjoyed he's seeing to your needs.

Taking his two fingers, he slips them into your beckoning entrence, his mouth enclosing onto your clitoris, immediately sucking and assaulting it with his tongue.

Your hands grab at his perfect blonde strands, your climax immediate at his touch. It felt like you were swelling; larger and larger before you imploded.

You weren't sure what left your mouth, but it was something loud - swirling colours and sensations embraced your entirety, your body leaving this world for a few moments as your insides squeeze your lovers digits, filling his palm with a small puddle of your water.

An animalistic growl leaves his vocal chords at the sight of you; a total mess coming undone upon his desk. His tongue rolls over his lip in starvation as he removes himself, fiddling with his trousers and freeing his huge cock.

The smell of his precum snaps your hated attention - you could cry with elation that he was about to push his amazing dick into you.

"Good girl." He mutters as he presses his swollen head against you. "Nice and wet for me."

It's a tight fit as he slowly pushes into you. Your back bends and your mouth hangs into a silent scream as your insides slowly take him, ingesting him like some snake slowly digesting its large prey.

He's not even halfway in as he grunts, fingertips harshly digging into your thighs, head lowering with the overwhelming sensation of you pulling him in.

"You always look so pretty. But you look so much better with me splitting you open like this."

Every single spot within you is being hit, stretched and stimulated as that mystical dick finally is fully in you, pulling and pushing against your internal ridges. The desk begins to clank against the uneven flagstone flooring, but his grunts is all you care to focus on as his hips collide with yours again and again.

"So tight. So perfect, darling. I would never turn you down. All... ah~ all you had to do was ask... I'll gladly see to your needs, my love."

You whimper in response - it's all you can do as his shape pulls and pushes you, dragging along your walls perfectly as usual.

His name leaves your mouth as your eyes roll, the gratifying waves of your second climax faster approaching.

"Where do you want me to finish, darling?" He leans over, sliding his tongue into your mouth for a moment, catching your lips in a tender kiss. "I won't last long this time. You feel too good and it's been too long."

"F-fill me up, Erwin." Your eyes match your pleading tone as he nods, nuzzling into your neck, his tall form covering you with ease.

His pace quickens, hands now on either side of your head as he begins to groan, your orgasm hitting you just as hard as the first - sucking him in deeper. Your walls squeeze so tightly, he's clamped into place, his loud, gruff groan music to your ears as his thick, hot cum collides with your cervix, the huge unloading of Erwin Smith filling you so much so, you're leaking with his mess within moments.

You feel lighter, as if you were floating as you made your way back to your shared quaters, the sweet promise of more later tonight already having you a giddy mess. You were glad you didn't bump into anyone on the way back; your hair a mess and a mark already appearing on your neck. You weren't even sure when he did that.

Once again, you were well and truly fucked into oblivion, your insides sore from his size but already looking forward to later tonight...

[nightshade-minho]

Halloween Costumes (2) 

💀 Han

[ warnings: public, kind of fear kink but also not? fingering, light degradation ]

You barely noticed Jisung’s fingers sliding between your thighs, your heart still pounding in fear as the ride slowed down in the dark tunnel, the atmosphere eerily quiet.

That is, until you felt his fingers rubbing over your clit, clearly using the fact that you were wearing a skirt to his advantage. You looked up at Jisung’s face with a glare, covered in a ghostly sheen thanks to his make-up. Was it weird that you somehow found him hotter like this? 

“Jisung...this is not the t-time nor the place- fuck-”

He shook his head, leaning in to whisper into your ear. “I don’t agree, babe. You look so delectable dressed like that, how do you expect me to resist this?” He gave you a cheeky grin as he pulled away, his fingers deftly sliding your panties to the side. The rush of cold air made you bite your lip, your mind momentarily forgetting your fear.

However a jumpscare took place at the same time he slid his finger in, making you jolt and scream loudly, voice almost giving out.

Jisung grinned widely at your reaction, the ride starting to move at a fast pace once more. He decided to thrust his digits quicker, loving how your moans were mixed with screams, your heart beating fast. Your brain could barely make sense of all of the different sensations you were feeling.

Meanwhile the man sitting next to you laughed maniacally, grabbing your face to look at him as he pressed his lips to yours.

"Damn, you love this don't you, little slut?" He chuckled against your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth just as he inserted another finger.

He was right, you did. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was only serving to heighten the pleasure Jisung was giving you. He bit your bottom lip as he pulled away, crooking his fingers and fucking them into you roughly. His expression was a stark contrast to the sinful actions his fingers were carrying out down there, a wide smile decorating his face. 

Your orgasm was approaching quickly, and you bit your lip as you felt the beginnings of it spread outward over your entire body. 

The ride was coming to a halt, still speedily hurtling through the tunnel as it was about to reach its end. Soon, it began to slow down.

Jisung pulled his fingers out almost immediately, causing you to let out a pitiful whine, legs still quivering.

Your pussy was still throbbing, frustration filling you at the loss of your orgasm. You turned to Jisung with a frown, ready to berate him when he shut you up with a peck.

"Come on, baby." He held his hand out to you, helping you out of the ride as it stopped.

"If you're going to cum tonight, it will be on my cock."

💀 Felix

[ warnings: unprotected sex, fake gun play, marking kink, for some reason you thought it would be a good idea to wear a horse costume lmao ]

You were supposed to have been at a Halloween party by now. But no, here you were, getting absolutely wrecked by your boyfriend as he took you over the dining table. You knew you should have exhibited some self control...but as soon as you laid your eyes on him in his cowboy attire, gun strapped to his holster, his hair beautiful messed and sporting a jaunty hat - you knew the night would end with his cum in you.

"We're- fuck- going to be so late." You groaned, unable to breathe as Felix's solid length filled you up deliciously, your tight heat welcoming him in with every thrust.

"I don’t give a fuck, kitten. After all, this was how our night was going to end any way, right?"

"Our friends will be waiting for us." You managed to speak, your mouth dropping open as the sheer pleasure took over your weak body, your boyfriend’s aura piercing into you firmly.

"Let them fucking wait." He groaned, leaning down and molding his lips with yours. "I don't care if we're going to miss the party, baby. All I care about right now is your beautiful body, worn out and naked for me."

He slammed his hips into yours repeatedly, making sure his grip on your waist was tight enough to leave marks. Felix loved marking you up. The thought of everyone seeing you and immediately knowing you belonged to him turned him on beyond belief.

"You're mine." He hissed, his lips trailing down to nip just above your nipple, the action drawing out a surprised groan from you. "Mine mine mine mine."

He slowly drew out the fake gun from his holster, smirking as he pressed it above your clit. Your eyes widened impossibly large- your pussy tightening around him as a new wave of arousal gushed out of you.

Moving the top of the gun gently enough to stimulate you without having to hurt you, Felix leaned down to kiss your neck once more.

"You think a cowboy is sexy? Well, I guess I can agree. You know what isn't a good costume, though?"

He pointed to the shreds of fabric on the floor, your horse costume having had been ripped off by him. You followed his gaze, cheeks flushing. You honestly don’t know what you were thinking when you bought that.

"You wouldn't have looked good in that. Hell, no one can pull that shit off." He chuckled deeply, pressing his lips to yours again as you felt him brush against your sweet spot.

"I prefer you in your birthday suit, anyways.”

💀 Seungmin

[ warnings: slave kink, fingering ]

“Please.” You begged.

When you’d agreed to Seungmin’s idea, this wasn’t what you had expected. Sure, you’d thought. If he wanted to plan your activities for Halloween, why not?

And here you were now, completely tied up and naked as the day you were born. You rarely relinquished all your power to him in this manner, rarely let him do these things. He’d sat on the ornate armchair in the corner of your room, leg crossed over the other as he tapped his chin.

His attire was regal, too expensive and luxurious to even be considered a costume. The cherry on top was the opulent crown resting on his head. He really did look majestic, like a true king.

What did that make you?

“Please?” Seungmin scoffed, his lips spreading into a smirk as he glanced you up and down. “You could do a lot better than that, my baby. Can’t you?”

“I...I just-” You sobbed, your pussy throbbing with need. You wanted him inside you, now. Unfortunately, you’re in no place to order him around. No, that’s his job.

“Go on.” His eyes shone as he stood up, walking closer to the bed. “Tell me what you want.”

“I...” You swallowed, unable to hold yourself back. Shedding your dignity, you whimpered, looking up at him helplessly. “I need you so bad, Your Majesty. I want you to ruin me, fuck me until I can’t breathe, treat me like your slave. Cause th-that’s all I am.”

You scrunched your eyes shut, too nervous to see his expression. A few seconds of silence passed, before you felt his long fingers sliding up your folds. The touch you’d long craved made you jolt forward, a long whine leaving your lips. “P-please- more...”

He chuckled, finger poking at your entrance as he pet your head condescendingly. “Don’t worry, my little servant.”

His digits slid in all of a sudden, making you cry out, your eyes opening.

The sight in front of you almost made you wish you’d kept them closed. His lip was held between his teeth, as his eyes took in your entire form, his face closer to yours than you’d expected.

His lips brushed against the shell of your ear as he spoke, in time with a cruel thrust.

“I’ll make sure you serve your lord well.”

💀 I.N

[ warnings: fingering, unprotected sex, degradation ]

You could barely concentrate on mixing the batter, your eyes fluttering as you kept a tight grip on the wooden spoon. How could anyone expect you to think straight when your boyfriend's fingers were running through your swollen folds, collecting your juices and sucking on his digits right after?

You let out an embarrassed moan as Jeongin kissed the back of your neck, his hands spreading your butt cheeks to expose your heat to him clearly.

"God, you're such a dirty girl for me, you know?" He smirked, pressing himself up against you. "I really do love the taste of you right now, princess. Don't even bother dressing up, you look great like this...naked as you bake for me."

You whined and twisted your neck to look at him, pouting. Your boyfriend had gotten dressed way before you, and his costume was impeccably high-end, having borrowed it from an actual film studio. The party wasn't for hours, but you imagined he wanted to live in this fantasy for as long as he could.

You tried your best to focus on the pumpkin cupcakes you were making, your hand shivering. However it was proving to be extremely different, especially when Jeongin slid a finger inside, groaning at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around it.

"Fuck baby, I could take you right here and now.."

You struggled to formulate sentences as he pumped the lone finger in and out of you. "No..." you whimpered. "I have to finish these cupcakes for the party or Felix will kill me-"

"You can continue baking." He mumbled, and you heard a zipper being undone. A second later, his swollen head was pressed against your entrance teasingly, causing you to let out a sound halfway between a groan and whine.

Unable to deny him when he was so tantalizingly close, you nodded, hearing him breathe a sigh of relief as he pushed in all of a sudden, jolting you against the counter.

"Fuck-" You cried out, your hands gripping the edge as you dropped the spoon. There wasn't a point in trying, you'd just mess it up anyway. As if you could focus on something so mundane when your boyfriend was filling you up so deliciously.

He grinned as he saw you give up, pulling you out and lifting you up onto the counter just to slide back in.

You looked down at him and inhaled, panting as he fucked into you. Reaching a hand up, you gripped his horns for support, causing him to raise his eyebrows.

"Cute little girl, getting fucked by a demon. Bet you love this, my little slut.'

"I...do..." You glanced at your abandoned cupcakes momentarily, a tiny flash of guilt in your stomach.

Noticing your gaze, he gripped your chin and made you face him again,

"Oh, fuck the cupcakes. I'm sure you taste better than them anyway..." He kissed you full on the lips, bucking his hips intermittently. "God I fucking love Halloween..."

note: yeah this is kinda late. enjoy, tho <3

[nincompoopydoo]

DEBRIS AND MISERY

TRUTH AND LIES ; PART 3 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.5k SUMMARY: You and Loki make a trip to the open market which leads to a flurry of thievery, arrests and an almost death. A/N: Hey hey, I guess I’m just updating this series on no porper day because I’m a bitch for procrastination wohoo! There’s so much going on in this chapter, probably a little too long but I hope you like it <3 gif from this gifset by @hiddleston-daily WARNINGS: Swearing, laser rifles, electrocution, intended execution, Loki being annoying. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

“So, what do you propose?”

Loki questions, walking beside you through the winding pathways of the outskirts of the city of Sakaar. Stalls propped up on stilts, colorful fabric hung overhead as a shield from the blazing sun of the afternoon. He’s dressed like a Sakaarian, drapery of vivid and bright colors, similar to yours—both passing through, hiding in plain sight amongst the crowd of contrasting species.

The place inevitably stinks, living up to the planet’s nature.

Yet, it’s a world of textile mania. Everywhere he looks, there’s a pop of color, radiant and brilliant. Whether it’s the clothes of the locals, the paint that adorns the structure of their faces, or the streaks of blue and red cascading down the walls of the city in the glimmer of the sun.

Your eyes seem to glow in the reflection of the sunlight; the shawl conceals the crimson scar well enough—barely recognizable in your disguise. Your gaze meets his. “Well, I propose we steal one of the Grandmaster’s ships. They're the only ones that are strong enough to enter the Anus.”

Loki flashes you a look, “You have to stop calling it the Anus.”

Your rapid steps come to halt at the foot of a stall, an extensive table with miles of crates filled with an array of vegetables and fruits. Some wiggle their way through the crowd of customers, some rigorously examining every blemish of each fruit while others attempt negotiating the prices with the distraught-looking vendor with a face of sapphire.

It’s a pastiche of a Pieter Bruegel painting. And the two of you are seemingly animate characters at the center of it.

Loki trails closely behind you—much to your dismay— shouldering a two-headed lady by accident, both heads snapping at him with blazing eyes. He mutters an apology as she quickly disappears into the crowd. He turns and nearly loses sight of you, instantly shouldering his way to stand beside your figure as you hum with amusement, brows raised. Your head tilts, eyes on him once more. “Oh, I’m sorry. Would it help if I called it the ‘giant red hole’ instead?”

He blinks. “You have somehow made it sound worse.”

You hum once more, cautiously gazing at the hectic vendor. “It’s one of my many talents.”

With a swift motion, he follows your fingers that delicately pluck one of the odd-looking blue enlarged berries from the stand, sliding it into your stash in a matter of a split second.

He’s almost impressed.

“I suppose thievery is one of your many talents.”

It’s both a question and a statement—Said in a tone of near mockery. Loki is starting to get on your nerves with the unnecessary commentary on every decision you made that led the two of you to this very moment—a routine you’ve repeated for years before his arrival. Oh and he’s well aware of the growing aggravation towards his sheer presence. It’s a feeling he’s no stranger to. It feels like home.

Your once monotony interactions are now turned into a muse for Loki’s own entertainment.

“Look, you really don’t have to announce and narrate every aspect of your silly observations like we’re in a stupid play. Especially, when I’m doing something that’s fairly frowned upon—”

“Fairly frowned upon? Really?”

A groan escapes from the scowl of your lips. You look like you’re about to kill him.

“Just shut up, for God’s sake.”

You snatch him by the wrist, forcing your way through the sea of Sakarriaans. Your grip is surprisingly firm—he scoffs, twisting his arm out of your grasp almost in a child’s manner. “Would you stop that?” he says as you lead him away from the bustling crowd, a corner where two perpendicular buildings meet. You turn to him in a somewhat exaggerated attempt to express your resentment towards him, pulling the shawl away, revealing your face as you hold your pointer finger to him like it’s a weapon. Loki instinctively staggers back in his stance. “No, you stop that!” you hiss, advancing towards him. “I told you not to mess with my shit and what you did there, that’s messing with my shit.”

Again, he finds himself caught in the act of your fury and frustration. He quickly notes that you seem to have an uncontrollable temper, and it’s unpredictable. You’re living in a constant predicament, one slight prod and you’ll burn, spontaneous combustion and you’ll burn right through everything, God or not.

You sigh, caressing your cheek. “I’m sorry, it’s just...I’ve been alone for so long and this,” You gesture between the two of you, “I never thought it’ll be possible to experience this again.”

Loki arches a beckoning brow. “Which is?”

You blink once, then twice, pursing your lips. “Company.” you punctuate it like it leaves an unpleasant taste on your tongue—you’re embarrassed to reveal a side of vulnerability. Like you have been in a constant fight to build the walls around you, to keep your guard up at all times, no matter the circumstance or cost. Whatever happened between you and the Grandmaster, destroyed the remains of your personality, your ability to feel like a human being and coping and living with the knowledge that you will never get off this planet and never return home for years. You deserve a fraction of his reverence, not sympathy.

Forced into the realm of independence with no one to cry out to. Your life oddly and eerily reflects his. He can’t help but feel that maybe it’s fate that hauled him out of the Bifrost, sending him flying into Sakaar and crashing into the very home you reside within.

His mouth runs dry for the first time because there’s nothing to say. You apologize even when you don't need to and the part of you that protrudes is your honesty—a part of you that differs from himself. You’re truthful, even to a stranger. Nevertheless, he nods.

A yell from a distance captures your attention, a man on the other end of the pathway that leads to the markets, dressed in the armor of red—a Sakaarian guard, armed with a laser rifle. The guard, unfortunately, might recognize you, with your face out in the open. Your scar makes you stand out like a sore thumb. It’s every criminal’s nightmare.

You discreetly turn your head towards the wall in a desperate attempt to hide your identity even though you very well know, there’s a significant chance it isn’t going to work. Your figure is now close to his, he can almost feel the erratic beating of your heart. You’re...afraid.

The sentry on patrol nears the two of you, expression unreadable, concealed under the mask of red strokes like warrior paint. His voice is low, authoritative. “Everything alright here?”

He must have noticed the commotion during the heat of your argument, perhaps recognizing the tone of your voice which does not help with the plan the two of you are drafting to get off this planet, or maybe, he is just genuinely concerned. The latter seems improbable by the way the guard stands, hands hovering over the trigger of the rifle.

Loki decides it would be best to negotiate and pretend everything is fine. He would much rather avoid a fight because he would hate for you to end up dying as a prisoner in the arms of the Grandmaster. Well, because you’re on his way out. Nothing more.

He turns to the sentry with his usual charming smile, palms raised to indicate he means no harm. It's an image of vulnerability. The guard seems to relax at this, fingers moving away from the trigger of his weapon although his posture remains sturdy.

He’s alone, no other guards are lurking nearby. If anything were to happen, at least it will be two against one.

How foolish.

“Everything is quite alright, kind sir. It’s just one of our...common little spats, nothing more. The missus says I don’t give her enough attention and well, you would know how that turned out—”

You nearly choke at Loki’s words. Out of all the possible reasons, he chooses a lover's spat as an excuse. An incredibly absurd and petty lover’s spat.

Now, you're his fucking missus.

The armored man is unfazed by Loki’s charm; he doesn’t seem convinced. He turns to you, gesturing to your figure with his rifle. “Show your face, ma’am.”

Loki is quick to step in. “Sir, I believe that would be rather embarrassing for her. You see, she has been crying, and it’s not a pretty sight. Red all over, bloodshot eyes—you know.”

You roll your eyes. Now, all you want to do is send your palm flying across his face. Hard.

Once more, the guard doesn’t completely believe Loki’s explanation.

Loki turns to you discretely, extending his open palm to you. He whispers lowly. “Do you trust me?”

You simply shake your head.

Nevertheless, you take his hand.

Before you know it, you’re being hurled by the arm, head first and now the two of you are in a full-out sprint, spinning, and weaving from every pedestrian. Your shawl is long gone, Loki has magically switched back to his original Asgardian outfit. The sentry tails behind the two of you, close enough to hear him speak through the telecommunication device attached to his armor. “It’s the girl—Scrapper 170!”

The two of you dive down an alley, the sentry starting to gain. Loki turns to you mid-sprint with an exasperated look. “Scrapper 170? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Now is not the time, Loki!” you groan, voice trembling with every land of your quick feet against the ground. The sentry halts and aims. A flash of purple passes you by an inch. You duck instinctively, feet stumbling and your hand leaves Loki’s. The laser beam crashes into a wall, leaving a massive hole in it. You hear a woman shriek from the other side through the hole.

You round the corner, catching the glimpse of not one but three guards running after you. You instantly spin away to see Loki just about a meter ahead. You power through, catching up to his side. The alley breaks into a clearing, leading you back to the open market that teems with the same hectic and rowdy crowd of Sakaarians. Another shot fires at the two of you; it blasts like a hand grenade—the crowd screams. Loki is shoved away from you and with a turn of your head, you completely lose sight of him. Another blast of the rifle, you duck in time as it hits the crate of fruits behind. You kamikaze down the little avenues lined with vendors and shops, careening through the labyrinth. There’s a sentry at every turn, emerging from the crowd, behind the counter, tent flaps, and crates.

Amid the chase, you halt at a dead end. Behind you, the guards are catching up. At the corner of your eye, you spot Loki on the other side of the market, a few stalls away. His eyes are wide, and you’re trying to catch your breath. You step forward, ready to make his way to him when suddenly you hear something tick by your ear, then a wave of excruciating pain burns throughout your body—muscles spasms all over, you could barely control your own body any longer. Then, complete darkness as you felt your knees give out, face hard to the ground. The last thing you heard was your scream.

-

Maybe, you are meant to live your life filled with events of deja vu—a life of full circles and time loops. Maybe, you are meant to live a life of crime with the constant disability to learn from your mistakes, having been caught on numerous occasions because as soon as your brain awakens from its weakening of electrocution torture, there’s a familiar sense of aftermath pain, the sight of colorful grand walls, the feeling your hands cuffed to a rock metal chair and the grinning smile of none other than the Grandmaster.

You are stuck in a cycle, and you’re never breaking free.

The Grandmaster calls out your name with an almost chilling enthusiasm to his tone.

“At last, we meet again, 170! I’ve missed you, you know. You, uh, you really were something, huh? Intelligent. Pretty. Brought me lots of great stuff. Like that guy—What’s his name? Oh! Ares, God of war. He was a brilliant champion. Now, look at you. All dirty, disgusting and that hideous scar, ugh—” The Grandmaster cringes, gesturing to your figure with that melt stick of his. You flinch as he nears you, deciding how much you hate that shimmering golden robe. “Though I’ll have to admit, you are good at hiding. It’s almost annoying...Do you agree, Loki?”

He turns and you follow his gaze. Loki stands by the corner, looking almost sheepish. Your eyes are now immense, face painted with hurt and betrayal albeit you don’t necessarily demonstrate it. Loki averts his gaze to the Grandmaster. “I suppose.”

The silver-haired man laughs with a wagging finger to him. “I like you, Loki. I really do.”

You cringe at his words. He turns to you, smile gone.

“Hey, now you are going to tell me—I mean, really tell me—who exactly you are and where you’re from.”

You spot the furrow of the God's brows. His voice is faint, like the time at the market, asking you to trust him. “Is she not from Earth?”

The Grandmaster seems to be taken aback by Loki’s sudden question, narrow eyes bouncing between the two of you. Then, his mouth curves into an apparent ‘o’. “Oh, I see what’s going on. Wow. You actually believed that little story of hers? That she’s from a planet called Earth and an astronaut? Oh, you poor thing,” He speaks through his chuckles, amused by Loki’s expression of bewilderment.

So much for being truthful.

“You know, I always have the intuition for liars like you. So, there was no way you could have faked it all the way through.” His attention is on you, but you’re too busy looking at your unlikely ally or you dare say your partner's unreadable manner. Blank face. Usual posture. You hope to spot a hint of sympathy or sadness in his eyes. There’s nothing.

You can’t save yourself and neither can he.

You, after all, betrayed him in terms of your unknown identity. It’s expected he wouldn’t do the same. Yet, this is Loki getting a taste of his own medicine. If it weren’t for your imminent death, you would find this situation rather amusing.

“So, are you going to tell us the truth?”

Your gaze returns to the taller man. “No.”

You’re not sure how to feel about that single word being the last word you speak.

The Grandmaster blinks then shrug coyly. “Oh well, that’s quite a pity,” he moves around, gazing at the surrounding guards, hand on his hip. “So, uh, we’re doing this, huh?”

No one in the room moves or speaks.

He sighs, extending the melt stick to you. “Yeah, okay...See ya, then!”

You shut your eyes, ready to succumb to the pain of being liquefied. You wonder if it hurts and that the past victims you have witnessed were being dramatic as they screamed for the end of their lives rather than the pain itself. In all honesty, you’re terrified although you believe you shouldn’t be. Death is inevitable, after all, and you’ve been prepared for many years, living in hiding.

This is it. This is when you finally rest.

You miss home. Wherever that is.

“Wait!”

Your eyes are wide open, they fly to Loki who has his arm stretched out, nearing the Grandmaster. The melt stick is inches away from your face. The Grandmaster spins away from you, attention directed to Loki. “Really, Loki? I was so close to having the pleasure of melting her!”

For an Elder of the Universe, he could erratically act a lot like a child. A child with an obsession with control and murder. Psychopathic child.

You observe the two enter an argument of whispers and dramatic hand movements. Then, the colorful psychopath in that hideous shimmering coat swivels in his stance, gaze at you as a heavy sigh escapes his lips. “Fine. I guess I don’t have to know who exactly you are. On behalf of Loki here who seems very keen on keeping you alive, you are pardoned,” Your mouth flies open in response. “But! I’m putting you on probation. 142 will be keeping a close eye on you. So, yeah. Lie to me again and I’ll have you executed for real.”

The Grandmaster walks away and your wrists are released from the cuffs of the chair.

Loki retains that darn smirk on that charming face of his.

-

The slave quarters seem huge from the last time you were here. In comparison to your unstable shack of a home in the outskirts of the city, anything cleaner and brighter than that shithole was enough to fulfill your heart’s desire for an ideal place of residence. It’s the same room you occupied before you fled and went into hiding. You recognize the markings on the wall, roman numerals, hidden in the corner by your bed, counting the days since you arrived on Sakaar. That was years ago, maybe a decade—you lost count.

There’s a knock on the door; it swishes open to reveal none other than Loki, dressed in a different but relatively similar outfit to his original Asgardian clothing. It’s blue instead of green. You abruptly decide you like the way it brings out the specks of blue in those irises of emerald.

You cross your arms. “So, I assume you got caught, but I want to know how the hell did you not get this thing?” You tap the obedience disk on the curve of your neck. His smile curves into a smirk. “One word: Silvertongue.”

Your snort, nearing him. “That’s two words.”

Loki simply rolls his eyes. “No, it isn’t. It’s two—it doesn’t matter.”

That deafening silence wave over the two of you. You purse your lips.

“Why did you save me back there?”

The God blinks, shoulders squaring. There’s a sudden tension in the air.

“Well,” his head tilts as he clears his throat, trying to form the right words. He wets his lips. “If someone manages to trick the God of trickery himself, maybe that someone is worth saving.”

His response startles a distinct silence from you—the silence of awe and contemplation. He says you're worthy of saving, a sentence you never thought you’ll hear from the man who crashed through your roof and proceeded to be threatened with a dagger. The man who seemed to have some sort of inclination and ambition to annoy the death out of you. It’s bizarre how life works, how two diverging lives end up intertwined with one another in the most unlikely circumstance, and how time truly heals. It mends the wounds of the lonely, the ones who were told they were never enough.

Maybe scarce and scarce turns out to be enough after all.

You see yourself in him, a complex mind and a misunderstood heart. It’s frightening how you somehow understand, and you somehow don’t simultaneously.

People are complex. Life is complex.

He watches you with that same look when he initially heard the vocals of Freddie Mercury.

You’re no Freddie Mercury, you know that.

Your voice cuts through the silence. “Thank you.”

Loki seems to snap out of what felt like forever, responding with a curt nod.

“I’ll see you at dinner then,” he says, backing away into the hallway as he readies himself to leave. “And please, wear something better than that hideous heap of trash.” He gestures to your figure; your clothes are rugged and filled with dust and sand.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“We can resume our plans to getting off this planet after that,”

With a smug look, he spins on his heel and leaves. The door closes with a whirring sound. You feel heavy.

And God, you need a drink.

You quickly locate the drinking glasses, in one of the cabinets above the kitchenette. As you rummage through the rest of the drawers and cabinets in search of a bottle of something, a soft hum from the other side of the room catches your attention.

Your figure spins and you’re met by the sight of a group of materialized armored soldiers, clad in black. You heave a profound sigh of relief, a grin curving upon your lips.

“You guys finally found me! What took y'all so long? I’ve been stuck here for ages—”

“It appears to be a standard sequence violation.” one of the armored men say with an A-50 scrawled vertically on his helmet in orange.

You furrow your brows, feeling your heart stop. “Wait, what—”

“On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the Scared Timeline.” Hunter A-50 speaks. There’s a wave of sympathy flashes upon his expression. “I’m sorry.”

The cup falls to the floor, shattering into serrated pieces that surround your feet. Your heart begins to pound. As the other hunters grasp onto your arms, you are hauled through the translucent glowing doorway. Then, you hear the words of A-50 that struck your heart like a dagger.

“Reset the timeline.”

TAGLIST:

@lareinedususpense

@poubxlle

[jamespotterthefirst]

For Lost Time (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2K Premise: They continue to make up for lost time after their encounter in his car. Set during the events of Book 2, Chapter 12 

Warning: Strong Language and NSFW content. Please use discretion and caution when viewing this work. By viewing of this work, you consent that you are 18+ .

The fog clouding the glass had cleared almost entirely by the time they deemed it time to go inside. They haphazardly replaced their clothes in the small confines of his car, lightheartedly teasing each other until they shared a final kiss. Before their bodies parted, Ethan glanced down at her one more time, unable to keep a joyous smile at bay. The streetlights outside the car cast a golden glow on her as she glanced back at him, eyes alight with happiness, cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. 

He couldn't resist the urge to kiss her again. It was one that was all too familiar to Ethan, except this time, there were no obstacles that stopped his lips from moving enthusiastically against hers. 

He groaned as she pushed her body closer to his. 

A mere kiss was all it took for every part of his body to hum with need for her again like a live wire. Lilac must have felt it too because her eyes were darker as they pulled apart, one fingernail coiling playfully around his tie. 

“You should come inside.”

The spike of sheer euphoria that coursed through him at the words almost left him speechless. Ethan, however, still had the words to lean in a whisper the filthiest turn of phrase he could think of. 

It worked because in seconds, they were out of the car, rushing through the rain to go inside her building. They made it to her front door in record speed, especially considering the black high heels she wore. The sleek contraptions did wonders for her legs and he decided then that he wanted them on through every filthy act he was about to perform. 

Unable to resist, his hands found her hips, fingers digging slightly into her dress as he pulled her close. 

“Unlock the door fast,” he murmured hoarsely against her ear. A thrill of satisfaction buzzed through his veins when her hands fumbled with the keys, clearly affected. “Unless you want your neighbors to see me taking you against it.”

Her responding sigh made him grow even harder against her backside, his lips pressing hungry kisses along the column of her neck. Vaguely, he was aware of how desperate he appeared, hands urgently roaming her body, but he found that he didn't care. 

Lilac didn't seem to mind either because as soon as she opened the door, she took his hand without ceremony and guided him straight to her room. 

“Miss my body already?” she teased when he pushed her against the door as soon as it clicked shut.

Ethan almost didn't hear the taunt, busy as he was tugging off her dress and kissing every inch of exposed skin. “Can you blame me? I've been missing it for months.”

As if to drive that point across, she rolled her body against his just like she had in the car less than an hour ago. And just like in his car, their bodies crammed and quivering with need, Ethan groaned. 

“I've been missing yours,” she confessed in a sinful whisper. “You're all I thought about when I touched myself at night.”

A low, guttural curse escaped him, lost against the tops of her breasts. 

“Shhh. My roommates are home so you'll have to be quiet.” There was amusement in her breathless voice. “Think you can manage it, Doctor?” 

Ethan raised his head from where he tugged at her bra with his teeth to raise a quizzical eyebrow. “That sounds more of a challenge for you. I'm not the screamer out of the two of us.”

The heady way in which he whispered it made her hips rock against his involuntarily. 

“I seem to remember otherwise.” The coquettish glint in her eye made him harder still. 

“Then let me refresh your memory.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“One you'll lose, yes.”

What promised to be a signature witty reply was lost in a moan as Ethan moved his lips to her ear and all but growled, “Turn around.”

Despite the bravado, she obeyed at once.

Wasting no time, Ethan firmly took her hips and steered her towards the dresser at the other end of the room, the scent of her hair as intoxicating as the curve of her ass pressing tightly against him.

 Their eyes met through the mirror before them, a questioning look on her pretty face. She no doubt wondered why Ethan had chosen to pin her against a dresser, roughly bending her over to balance on shaking arms. The truth was, he had spent too much time fantasizing about having her on every imaginable surface and he planned to make good on those ideas. 

A bed was decidedly at the bottom of his list of surfaces.

“Ethan,” she moaned when he all but tore her dress off the remainder of the way. 

“Shhh,” he said hotly against her ear, parroting her earlier warning. “It's already not looking good for you and that challenge.”

Before she could reply, he took her knee and hoisted it onto the surface of the dresser, exposing her body to him. The sharp stiletto of one of her black heels dug into his thigh. Lilac let out a small gasp that quickly turned into a soft, wanton cry as his fingers pushed the thin lace of her thong aside and teased at her folds. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, realizing how wet she already was. 

“Only for you.”

A primal satisfaction overtook him at those words. His fingers slid and tapped with expert precision, drawing out the most maddening noises from her. When he used two fingers to tease her entrance, her supporting arms quivered, her body arching deliciously against him. 

“Ethan, please,” she said in a ragged plea. Their previous banter forgotten, he steadied her with one hand and slid two fingers inside her. 

He moved slowly at first, intending to savor the way he could still make her body sing, even after months of being apart. Soon, however, the speed and pressure of his movements increased, mostly at her urging. 

“Fuck, Lilac. You're so—” 

He couldn't finish the husky, senseless thought because Lilac demonstrated exactly what he meant by pulsing tightly around his fingers. Despite foolishly thinking he could exert control over her, Ethan allowed himself to fall at her mercy. 

As her pleasure peaked, she doubled over, her dark hair falling in curtains over her face. With one last cry, she quivered against his movements until she rode out the high. It was lucky the rain slashed loudly against the windows or her roommates would have undoubtedly heard her. 

He gave her a smug smile through the mirror. Lilac, looking flushed and blissful, rolled her eyes lovingly. “I still didn't scream,” she pointed out. 

Ethan took that as another challenge because five minutes later, she was on the verge of doing just that. He had her perched on the dresser, her thighs open to him, her back arching up from the surface. Ethan, on his knees like some kind of supplicant, met her gaze as his devilish tongue lapped at her folds.

“Ethan,” she cried, her hand delving into his hair. The light tug inspired his tongue to enter her, lavishing every hot inch of her body with the attention it deserved. Lilac cursed, writhing her hips desperately against his face. 

“Never get—” She moaned but tried again. “Never get rid of the beard,” she implored in a broken whisper. Ethan almost grinned and replied by taking the swollen nub in between his lips and sucking briefly. 

It was all she needed to climax again. 

“It's not fair.” Lilac hopped off the dresser moments later, legs trembling.

Ethan steadied her with ease, arching a brow. “Not fair? I thought I was being rather generous.”

Lilac pulled at his tie, shaking her head. “It's not fair that you're still fully clothed.”

Ethan laughed, leaning in to kiss her, his lips taunting her in a way that made her groan. Without further preamble, she made quick work of his shirt and tie, both falling in a heap to the floor. A smirk that was all wickedness pulled at her lips when she divested him of the rest of his clothing, the evidence of his arousal smacking against her hip. 

It was Ethan who was at a disadvantage now, fully naked while Lilac was still clad in her bra and panties. In one swift movement, he remedied that problem, using his teeth to slide off the straps of her bra. It was far more than she could take. 

“Fuck me, Ethan,” she pleaded in a heady whisper. 

He complied by swiveling her body around yet again, their eyes finding each other through the mirror . They started at one another with such intensity that Ethan felt his hands tremble against her hip bones. As soon as she bit her lip enticingly, however, he took himself in his hand and teased her entrance until she trembled. 

Soon, every ounce of his self-control had been spent, his body pulsing as desperately as hers. Unable to wait another moment, Ethan pushed himself inside her inch by glorious inch. Buried to the hilt, he pressed his forehead against Lilac's shoulder. 

“You feel so good,” he said hotly against the curve of her shoulder. 

Lilac moaned as he began to move in measure strokes.

She gripped the edges of the dresser as his movements increased speed. With every thrust, the mirror rattled dangerously against the wall. If their mingled cries and moans were not enough to alert her roommates, perhaps the smacking of their bodies would. 

Lilac's body gripped him firmly from all sides, eliciting a dark curse from Ethan. The erotic little way she moaned his name was proving detrimental to his plan of lasting as long as he could. 

“Faster,” she cried. 

His thrusts became shallow and pointed as he obeyed. Ethan watched through the mirror as her body bounced to the rhythm of his movements, her eyes closed blissfully as she raced to her release. 

“God, Ethan,” she cried. “You're so—” Her voice broke off as he drove into her with invigorated zeal, his lustful hand taking a firm grip of her right breast. 

“Finish the thought,” he murmured hotly in her ear. 

“You're—” 

Another calculated thrust and another cry.

“I’m what?”

“You're so big,” she finally managed.

Ethan cursed.

“I’m so close,” she breathed. 

“Good,” he growled.

“Ethan, you’re going to make me—” the last words broke into a series of moans as she finished around him. 

The sounds she made were the last push to his own release. With a guttural groan, he gripped her tightly against him until they both rode off the high. 

When they pulled apart, Lilac dropped into the mattress with a content sigh. Ethan laughed, joining her. 

“I missed that,” she admitted with a grin. 

He watched her expression closely, relieved to see genuine joy there. “Me too,” he said, leaning in to kiss her nose. 

Before either of them could say anything else, her stomach growled loudly. 

“Hungry?” 

She laughed, looking slightly embarrassed. It was almost comical to Ethan as she was currently naked in front of him. 

“Starving. We skipped dinner with all of our…” she trailed off, smiling slightly. “...catching up.”

He chuckled, rather liking the term. If they were making up for lost time they still had a long way to go. “Let's go out and get something.”

“Okay,” she said, perking up. At a brief pause, she wrinkled her nose. “But please, no more bland foods. I can't eat plain white rice again. I will scream.”

At this, he laughed fully, shaking his head. “What are you in the mood then?”

“Tacos,” she said without a thought. Ethan nodded and made to stand up. She reached for his arm, a serious expression on her face. “Real tacos. If you give me this hard-shell, ground-beef nonsense I won't make it, Ethan.”

He scoffed though the effect might have been ruined by the way he grinned. “Of course. Who the hell do you take me for?” 

“A white guy from the east coast?” she said innocently. 

Ethan laughed, having lost count of how many times he had done that in his brief time with her that evening. As his laughter subsided, however, he could feel the tendrils of dread that still lingered starting to take root again. The events of the past few days, seeming a distant memory only moments ago, began to fog his consciousness once more, despite his every effort.

Lilac met his eye, perhaps sensing the serious edge in his demeanor. Without saying anything, she took his hand in hers and kissed it tenderly. 

“We…we will be okay.” The words were directed at him but Ethan suspected she meant them for herself too. 

Ethan glanced at their joined hands and nodded, believing it for the first time in months. 

_______

Author’s Note: I don’t know.

Thank you for reading this! 

Thank you @aestheticartsx​ for your help with this one! 

_______

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@lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite | @titaniaangel | @adamsdumortain​

[farfromsugafanfic]

Sutures - Chapter Three: Anosognosia

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): drinking, drunkenness, light smut, sex dream, implications of oral sex, obsessive behavior from an ex, unhealthy relationship dynamic (not on part of Yoongi & OC)

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Notes: This was originally written and completed on Wattpad between 2018 and the beginning of 2020. I’ll be slowly posting the chapters here. I may make a tag list depending on if enough people want to follow along with updates. Leave me some feedback if you would like added to a tag list.

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Yoongi saw the look in your eyes shift from soft curiosity to sheer panic. He felt the pit of his stomach fill with guilt. He shouldn't have slept with you; sure, the two of you would still have this problem, but no one would've had reason to find your shoes. You wouldn't have had reason to leave them behind. 

He'd felt betrayed, he'd felt lonely, he'd felt unloved by those he wanted to love him most. But, that was no excuse to sleep with the first attractive girl he found. 

"Have you told Bang PD yet?" Namjoon asked, his demeanor calm, but Yoongi could see the slight shock cross over his features, causing his thick lips to pout and his chin to jut out. 

Yoongi shook his head.

"I'll call him," Namjoon said. The leader placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He blocked Yoongi's view of you. He worried in those few seconds you were blocked from his view that you would collapse into Namjoon's chest and cry the tears meant for him. The tears because of him. 

Namjoon left the room, leaving Yoongi alone with you. He tried his best not to focus on the way your tank top hugged your chest and exposed the hickeys he'd left the night before and that Namjoon probably noticed it too.

"You look tired," Yoongi said. "We can't do anything until tomorrow anyway. Try and get some sleep."

You nodded and Yoongi wasn't sure if you were just trying to reassure him or yourself. He remembered the way you'd fallen asleep long before he did. The way you'd fit against his body; how it felt like two puzzle pieces joining together for the first time. He blinked away the thoughts and tried to focus back down on your eyes. 

"We'll pay them off," Yoongi said. "We'll make sure nothing comes of this."

---

Jihee (9:00 am): Are you all right?

Jihee (9:05 am): I heard you're in the hospital

Jihee (10:01 am): None of your members are texting me back

Jihee (12:31 pm): Baby, the news is reporting something about your soulmate? What happened last night?

Jihee (2:43 pm): Yoongi! Please respond to me! I'm worried

Jihee (5:12 pm): Yoongi...what I did last night...what happened was all a mistake...

Jihee (5:12 pm): I still love you

Jihee (6:00 pm): The news said you were released hours ago! Respond to me!

Jihee (8:20 pm): Yoongi, I miss you

Jihee (9:30 pm): I know I don't deserve you. But, please just tell me you're okay

Jihee (11:50 pm): Goodnight. Love you.

---

"Baby," you moaned. Your hands slipping beneath Yoongi's shirt. They were cold, but he still loved the way they moved over his stomach and chest. Your fingertips grazing over his skin, a fingernail occasionally catching and causing him to squirm.

His hands were in your hair, messing it up and causing it to form mountain ranges as his fingers hiked the peaks and valleys. He loved the way it felt between his fingers, soft and light. 

Your lips moved from his and down to his neck where your lipstick stained his skin. He kept his grip on your hair, feeling it tug slightly as you move downward. He helped you slip his shirt off as your lips connected with his chest. 

"You don't have--"

You silenced him by tugging on the waistband of his jeans and rubbing your thumb over the button, teasing him slightly. 

"I want to," you responded, unbuttoning his jeans. 

Yoongi tightened his grip on your hair, trying not to focus on the way your lipstick was smeared above your lips. He could already imagine the way they'd look...

His head lulled back and his fingers loosened. 

---

Yoongi awoke. He was covered in sweat and ran his hand through his hair. He glanced down at his phone: 6:41 am. He sighed and headed to the bathroom. 

He slapped himself softly, trying to stop the thoughts that continued to cross his mind. He didn't have feelings for you, it was simply lingering from he slept with you. Nothing else. 

He wasn't going to deny he was attracted to you, he wouldn't have gone back to your apartment otherwise, but he felt nothing romantically for you. Yoongi knew the attraction would continue and probably only get worse, but he had to fight it. The last thing he wanted to do was break either of hearts more than they already were. 

Yoongi turned on the shower, the water colder than usual.

---

You stood in Yoongi's studio where he kept his computer. You'd suppressed your laughter at the ridiculous amount of hoops you'd had to jump through in order to enter. A doorbell, black curtain, and two doors. You respected the fact he took his work seriously though. The wall full of awards and trophies he'd won, a few even separate from BTS.

There was a couch in the corner, but you were too anxious to sit. You just wanted your shoes back and whoever took them to get their money and leave you alone. You were thankful your name hadn't been released and the only other person who knew the full truth was Eunji.

"There's many of us trying," Yoongi said. "Me, Namjoon, our managers, other people at the company. One of us will get them." 

You nodded and watched as the countdown on the auction neared two minutes to the end. There weren't many bids, but the shoes were somehow already over 300,000 won ($276 USD). You'd brought your knitting needles and some yarn and mindlessly knitted.

"What are you making?" Yoongi asked, a small smile breaking out across his lips. It was tiny and barely recognizable. You weren't sure if he pitied you or if simply trying to break the tension. 

"Nothing in particular," you said. "I just need something to keep me busy." 

Normally, when you went in without a plan, it turned out as a scarf. You bit you lip as the timer hit a minute. 

Yoongi saw your gaze shift to his screen and he readied to enter his bid as close to the end as he could. He entered one million won ($920.00 USD) and hovered his finger over the enter button. 

"That's too much!" you said. 

"No one will outbid it."

"I know," you said. "But I feel bad. I shouldn't have forgotten them in the first place." 

The timer hit twenty seconds. Ten seconds. Yoongi waited just a few more seconds wanting to time it just right. 

You heard a scream and a crash and almost simultaneously an error message appeared on Yoongi's computer. Please connect to Wi-Fi.

"Shit," Yoongi said. "Jimin!"

You followed Yoongi to the living room, leaving the partially started scarf behind. You saw Jimin and Jungkook crowded around the router working to connect the cord back into it. 

"Did you trip over it again?" Yoongi asked, his voice breathy and exasperated. 

"Sorry," he said. "I'm not used to it." 

Yoongi sighed and turned back to you. His dark eyes looked down at you apologetically and he sat down on the couch, pulling out his phone. 

"I'll try and see if I can see who won." 

---

"It looks like they're going to have to come out and fix it," Namjoon said, hanging up the phone. "We won't have internet until then." 

The members groaned. 

Jungkook walked into the kitchen and brought back a case of beer, a smirk plastered on his face. 

"Let's play a game," he said. "To welcome Sumi to the dorm."

"What game?" Namjoon asked. 

"Answer or drink," he said. "On your turn, someone asks you a question and if you don't want to answer it, you have to drink." 

Everyone agreed and sat in a circle. Yoongi sat on one side of you and Hoseok on the other side. Your knee brushed Yoongi's and you felt a small pang in your chest as you pulled away.

"All right, we'll go in order of age. Jin, you're up first." 

You didn't really pay attention to the questions. You'd fall somewhere towards the end. Between Jungkook and Taehyung. 

Jin answered the question. He didn't seem like the type to be embarrassed easily, a quality you admired in the eldest. 

---

"Yoongi," Jungkook said. "Your turn."

The room stayed silent. No one had a question for the boy and he couldn't help but smirk slightly. However, Taehyung meekly raised his hand. 

"What happened with Jihee?"

Yoongi cussed to himself. He knew she had been texting the other members about him. The other members would always consult him first before telling her anything when it was obvious he wasn't talking to her. 

"She cheated," Yoongi answered simply. 

The other boys' eyes widened and they nodded. However, it wasn't their gazes Yoongi felt boring into him. It was yours. He could feel your eyes staring at his profile. 

Yoongi had been careful the night he met you. He managed not even to tell you his name. He'd only mentioned he'd recently gotten out of a relationship. He figured you didn't need to hear his sob story. Besides, he planned on keeping Jihee's betrayal a secret. Just as she wanted. The only people he could trust with the truth were his members. 

But, you deserved to know the truth. It was unfair to keep you completely at a distance, especially when he'd overheard everything about your ex.

Yoongi noticed you drinking, you'd already cracked open another can by the time it got Namjoon. He felt a twinge in his chest. Yoongi quickly suppressed it, your drinking habits were none of his business. And based on the way Eunji talked the night at the bar, it didn't sound like you drank much. Only when your heart was broken.

"Sumi," Jungkook said. "Your turn." 

Again, the room fell silent. No one knew Sumi well enough to ask her such a personal question. But, then again, everyone was tipsy, or in a few cases, already drunk. 

"How's Yoongi in bed?" 

Everyone except for Yoongi and you laughed. 

"Seriously?" Yoongi asked. 

He knew it was the alcohol that asked the question, but it was still inappropriate. He didn't want you to have to drink. Your eyes were glazed and your cheeks rosy. 

Yoongi reached over and drank for you, crumpling the can when he finished. 

"Move on," he said. "It should be your turn, right, Jungkook?"

"Wait," you said. "I didn't answer." 

Everyone turned to look at you. It was obvious you were too drunk to notice that Yoongi had technically already drank for you. 

"He's good," you answered. "Better than my ex and I hate that cause..." 

You drifted off not noticing the seven stunned faces staring at you.Your words slurred, but they hung in the room. Your eyelids drooped and your head lulled forward into your chest. 

"I think it's time for bed," Namjoon said, standing up and helping you stand. He threw an arm around you and led you down the hall towards your bedroom. 

Despite the fact that the situation was perfectly appropriate, Yoongi still felt a small pang of jealousy. He knew he shouldn't and that it was all the soulmates thing, but that didn't stop his fists from clenching. 

"She probably won't remember this in the morning," Yoongi said. "Don't remind her."

Yoongi swallowed the rest of his drink and left the room on the pretenses of being sleepy--which he was--but he also didn't want anyone to see the blush come to his cheeks. 

---

You awoke the next morning with the worst headache you'd ever had. You clutched your forehead and glanced at the time: 10:30 am. You sighed. 

You spotted your knitting things from yesterday placed on top of the dresser. You didn't remember fetching them from Yoongi's studio, but then again, you barely remembered anything after Jimin knocked the Wi-fi out. 

"All I drank was beer," you muttered to yourself. 

You weren't known for being a lightweight causing you to wonder just how much you'd drank the night before.

As you squirmed you felt something soft move in the crook of your arm. You looked down and saw Kitty. You smiled at the stuffed cat and her droopy eye.