#are you ready for the dumb name of this au? I don’t think you are but here it is:

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

*The Oil Change*

Summary: Joel decides to give you a lesson in changing oil... Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4k Warnings: Pre-Outbreak AU, mechanic!Joel, f! masturbation, fingering, squirting, power dynamic shift, submission, overstimulation, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (babydoll, darlin', cowboy), ROUGH sex, creampie, lots of banter, questionable information on how to change oil, joel being the MAN that he is A/N: Just a fun lil drabble about our two favorite people ever... also, I am definitely NOT a qualified mechanic with this story, so pls don't follow these instructions when changing your oil lol unless you want to include a mind-blowing orgasm to the mix

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“Okay, so what now?” You asked, staring at the engine of your car.

It was a quiet Saturday at the shop, and Joel had insisted on teaching you how to change the oil. You were ready to get greased up with the car on a jack and the hood open. Joel leaned over the car, pointing to the oil cap beside the engine. 

“See that? That’s where the oil is. We gotta check the levels first before changin’ it,” he explained.

“So… just unscrew it and look into it?” You sounded like a typical dumb girl in a mechanic shop.

Joel was patient with you, though, and far too eager to teach you the ropes. Untwisting the oil cap, he pulled out a long stick beside it, covered in dark liquid. Holding it on the base of a dirty towel, he presented it to you, pointing at the lines on the bottom of it. 

“S’called a dipstick,” he said. “Those lines on the bottom show your fuel levels. If it’s below that line, means you needa change it. What’s it sayin’, babydoll?”

You inspected the dipstick and saw the oil coating it under the line. So far, so easy. 

“Says I need new oil,” you nodded. 

Joel hummed his approval, putting the dipstick back into its spot and leaving the oil cap open. Rounding the car, he pulled up some sort of flat-rolling device. He nodded his head over to it, wordlessly instructing you to follow him. He put it at the side of your car, moving it back and forth to show you how it worked.

“This’ll help you get under the car. S’called a creeper. You just lay down on it and slide under. Think you can do it or want to watch me work?”

You contemplated it, knowing you had seen him on it plenty of other times. You spent countless afternoons watching him lying on the underside of a vehicle, with his thighs flexing under his jeans and his shirt riding up to expose his lower stomach. He always had a particular look when he came back out from under the cars, his hair disheveled and a stupid grin plastered on his face. For such a simple job, Joel sure did love it. 

“I can do it,” you decided. “You can’t be the only one getting all greased up and dirty.”

Joel smirked at you, his hand coming to palm your ass. Leaning into his touch, you pecked him on the cheek and lowered yourself onto the creeper. Staring up at him, you gave him a questioning look as if to ask what now? Pressing his word boot against your shoe, he slid you under the car slowly, your view of him being replaced by the underside of your car. Everything looked just as confusing as it did under the hood. Joel pushed an empty metal pan under with you, along with a wrench and a towel. 

“Alright, babydoll,” he said, his voice closer as he crouched down. “This is where it’ll get messy. Just listen to my instructions, and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m trusting you with my life,” you grumbled. “Don’t let me get covered in oil down here, cowboy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babydoll. Now, take a look up and find the drain plug. Should look like a lil’ metal screw. You got it?”

Your eyes scanned upwards, straining until you settled on the screw. You grabbed the wrench and lined it up with the screw. 

“I just unscrew it?” you hollered. 

“Wait! Hold on, babydoll!” Joel called out. 

You heard shuffling beside the car and suddenly felt his shadow beside you. He squeezed his way under the car with you; his body angled sideways to get a view of the drain plug. You glanced over at his face, giving him a soft smile. He had that look of focus cresting over his features, his lips pursed, and forehead scrunched together. It was cute seeing him take this so seriously.  

“Alright, alright,” he exhaled. “The oil s’gonna come out fast, so be ready for it. Try movin’ your body my way so you don’t get it all over ya’.”

“You make this sound so dirty,” you laughed. 

“It is dirty,” he said pointedly. “Get that pretty lil’ mind outta the gutter.”

“Or what?” you questioned, shuffling your body against the creep. You leaned into his broad frame, feeling his chest press against your back.

“Focus,” he growled. Despite his irritation, you could feel him harden against you. 

“Okay, okay,” you relented. 

Reaching up, you used the wrench to loosen the screw, utterly oblivious to the chaos that was about to transpire. The screw shot out onto the metal pan with a thud, followed by a heavy stream of oil splashing against the empty pan. Thick, black oil splattered onto your cheek and neck, the warmth of it staining your skin. You yelped at the contact, rolling off the creeper and falling into Joel’s open arms. His chest shook with laughter as he hauled you further from the oil, still steadily draining out. 

“I warned ya’,” he said. “It’s messy.”

“You didn’t tell me I’d get hit with the oil!” you yelled, jabbing him with your elbow, which only sent him into another fit of laughter. “It’s not funny!”

“S’kinda funny,” he chuckled. “I’ll get you all cleaned up after, don’t worry.”

“You fucking better,” you grumbled.

You watched the oil finally finish draining, a slow drip falling into the filled pan. Joel shimmied out from under the car, whispering in your ear to stay put. He came back a moment later, reaching down to hand you some sort of metal canister. Turning it in your hand, you read the label and saw OIL FILTER plastered on the side. 

“Now we gotta change the oil filter,” Joel explained. “First, y’gotta get the old one out, then we can replace it.”

“Why don’t you do the rest? I’m already messy enough.”

“Oh, so you can talk dirty, but I can’t, huh?” He teased, squeezing your calf as it stuck out under the car.

“Oh, shut up!”

Joel bent down to lay under the car with you again, tilting his head to look at the oil filter. His hand twisted the old canister until another glob of oil fell into the pan, smearing over your t-shirt. The oil leaked down his hand, covering the straps and face of his watch and coloring his tan skin. 

“Jesus Christ, Joel!” 

“Why don’t ya’ save that hootin’ and hollerin’ for after the oil change,” he quipped. “I’ll make sure ya’ say that again, just in a different way.”

You glanced at him, welcomed by an overdramatic wink on his handsome face. He nudged you with your elbow, turning your focus back to the oil change. Guiding your hand up to the empty space, he helped you install the new filter, both of your hands working in tandem as you twisted it back into place.

“There ya’ go, babydoll. Good job.”

“Joel,” you warned. “If you keep talking in my ear like that, I’m going to smack the shit outta you.”

“I reckon you’d rather fuck me,” he whispered in your ear.

Joel shuffled out from under the car, leaving the space vacant around you. You managed to get your body back onto the surface of the creeper, propping your knees up to help propel you forward and out, but as you did, an oil-slicked hand grabbed your ankle. You yelped at the contact, your body lurching from under the car and back into the sun-drenched garage. Joel stood over you with a coy grin and a stiffness in his jeans you were all too familiar with. 

You cocked an eyebrow at him, an unspoken warning to him about what he was thinking. You were covered in oil and felt absolutely disgusting… he was not touching you.

“Don’t you even think about it,” you warned, sitting up on the creeper. It rolled back against the car, hitting the side door with a soft thud. 

Joel stalked forward, crouching to meet you at eye level. He had those stupid fucking puppy dog eyes, and his bottom lip was pushed out and extra pouty. He was undeniably cute, but you wouldn’t cave. 

“We got ten minutes to kill ‘til we can recheck the levels,” he insisted.

“Ten minutes? You won’t even last two, cowboy.”

That did him in.

Pulling the edge of the creeper forward, Joel came down to eye level, a flash of intensity cresting over his brown eyes. His hand brushed over your neck, tugging at your ponytail.

“Says you, babydoll. I’ll have you coverin’ the floor in your juices in less than a minute,” he argued.

Your mouth fell open, both shocked and a bit turned on. He wasn’t wrong, but you were determined to prove him wrong. Arching your body forward, your hands gripped the collar of his flannel, hauling him into a long kiss. His tongue brushed over your bottom lip, making you moan helplessly. Damn this man and his ability to make you submissive and pliable.

“Do you think you’re that good?” you taunted, working your mouth down to nip at the patchy beard covering his jaw.

Joel’s hand untangled from your hair and moved to your neck, squeezing your throat gently—a warning. He held you steady as he met your eyes with a fierce look, his eyes nearly black.

“Do you need a reminder, darlin’? ‘Cause I ain’t afraid to teach you a lesson.”

“You’re already teaching me a lesson,” you reminded him, with a touch of sassiness in your voice. “A lesson in changing oil.”

“Keep it up, babydoll. Y’know I love it when you’re a brat. Means I get to fuck it right out of ya’.”

“And I give you full permission to fuck me later. Right now, oil change,” you emphasized.

He huffed a loud groan, rolling his eyes and straightening to his full height. Offering a hand, Joel helped you stand back up, pecking you on the cheek before leading you back to the open hood of the car. 

“When the oil’s settled, we’ll check the dipstick again to make sure the filters workin’,” he explained.

“Sounds easy enough. And that’s it?” You asked.

“Yup. All good after that, babydoll. We just gotta kill them ten minutes.” He gave you a side eye, insinuating what you both could be doing.

“I’m sure you can make yourself busy,” you smiled, blissfully aware of how much you were killing him.

“Rather be busy makin’ you scream my name,” he grumbled, inspecting your car's engine.

“Aw, is my man pouting?” You teased, rounding the edge of the hood to hug him from behind. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder blade, working your grease-covered hands over the buttons of his flannel. Your fingers danced over each one, toying with them just to elicit his response. 

“You’re killing me, babydoll,” Joel groaned. 

“Am I?” You asked innocently. Your hands trailed down his stomach, inching closer to his belt. 

Joel’s hand shot forward, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist. You gasped as they tightened around your skin, his arm twisting until he maneuvered you around to stand in front of him. Your ass hit the edge of the bumper at the exact moment his hands came up to pull your face to his. His lips crashed onto yours, his tongue seeking yours as he forced your mouth open wider. A desperate whimper escaped your mouth, only making his movements more intense and all-consuming. Your teeth dug into the plush skin of his bottom lip, tugging gently as he broke away. 

“I’m beggin’ you, babydoll. Please let me fill that pretty pussy, I’m about to lose my damn mind.”

You smirked, folding your arms over your chest. His eyes were saucers; his pupils lost amidst the brown in his irises. Despite the afternoon sun still flecking across the corners of the garage, shadows danced over his features, emphasizing the hungry look he was giving you. You knew it would be easy to cave into his needs—you wanted to—but maybe, just maybe, you’d enjoy seeing him work for it. 

“You wanna beg for it, cowboy?” You asked. “Let me see it.”

Joel’s mouth parted, words failing him as he studied your posture and dominant voice. You lifted your chin, trying to level him with a heavy stare even with the inches of height he had over you. 

“Well?” You questioned. 

“Whatcha want, darlin’? Y’wanna see me on my knees?” He suggested, shifting slightly. 

Your eyes flicked down to the bulge in his jeans, watching it strain against the zipper the longer you stared. Your tongue darted out, rolling over your bottom lip before you bit into it. Joel let out an impatient groan before sinking to his knees before you. Now, the eye contact shifted, your height imposing over his. Seeing his eyes strain upwards to look at you gave you a new sense of control. You liked it.

“Is this what ya’ wanted?” His voice dropped an octave. 

“I don’t hear any begging,” you shrugged. 

Joel clasped his hands together, holding them in front of his chest, as he met your eyes with a pleading stare. His kiss-swollen lips pushed out into a pout, and his voice was agonizingly desperate as he spoke.

“Please, babydoll,” he begged. “I’m dyin’ to see you ruin the floors of this damn garage. Fuckin’ desperate to make you cum all over my cock, please.”

“I like you begging,” you mused. “You’re so handsome on your knees.”

Joel groaned, letting his head fall against your thighs. Running his hands up your jeans, his fingers worked towards your zipper, which you quickly swatted away. Carding your hand through the sweaty curls atop his head, you yanked them back to force his eyes on you again.

“Do you want to see me cum?” You questioned. 

Joel nodded pathetically, his thick neck straining the longer he looked up at you. You noted the outline of his veins under his sun-kissed skin and how his throat bobbed with each word you spoke. 

“Fuck, babydoll. Yes. Please, I want it s’bad,” he pleaded.

“Then be a good boy and watch,” you commanded.

Arousal flooded through your veins as you unzipped your jeans, shimming them down your hips and thighs before discarding them somewhere amidst the mess of the workspace. Standing before him in only a tiny lace thong, you watched as Joel wordlessly tracked your movements, his eyes zeroed in on the apparent slickness between your thighs. You had done such a good job of restraining yourself earlier to saying no, but how could you deny a man on his knees? 

“No touching,” you ordered. “You’re only allowed to watch.”

Hooking your thumbs under the band of your underwear, you let them slowly fall to the ground, your legs stepping out of them as you adjusted yourself against the bumper of the car. Pressing your ass against the cold metal frame, you lifted one leg to rest on top of the bumper; your foot pressed down as you shifted your weight to support your body. Joel obediently watched, his hands resting on his thighs as ordered. 

You moved your hand down your abdomen, your fingers drifting lower as you teased your wet folds. Joel watched with rapt attention, his eyes never leaving the sight of your hand. You made small circles over your clit, the brush of your fingers against it electrifying your nerves. Unrefined pleasure coursed through you as your movements intensified, your hips rolling against your hand as you chased your orgasm. Joel let out a strangled groan, and your eyes snapped to him, only to catch his hand palming over his cock beneath his jeans.

“No,” you said firmly. “You can’t touch yourself yet.”

“Babydoll,” he whined. “S’fuckin’ killin’ me.”

You leveled him with a heavy stare, pushing two fingers inside your aching cunt with a cry of pleasure falling off your lips. You wanted to see him work for it and see how long he’d last without snapping. With two fingers curling deep inside you, you brought your other hand into the mix, drawing those same lazy circles over your clit until you felt that white-hot pressure building inside your core. Joel still hadn’t moved an inch; every muscle in his body tensed as he watched helplessly. You curled your fingers harder, pulling more soft sounds from your mouth as you teetered on the edge of release.

“Joel,” you panted. “I—I need your fucking mouth.”

There was no hesitation.

He crawled to you, replacing the fingers on your clit with his mouth, his tongue stroking the aching bud with fervor. Each flick and drag of his tongue was another shockwave through your nerves, pushing you closer and closer until you were crying out into the space around you. With one large hand gripping the back of your thigh, Joel pressed his tongue harder against your clit until you were crashing over the edge. You came with his name falling off of your tongue, your wet arousal dripping down the bridge of his nose as he pushed his face further into you. Joel wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling your fingers from your wet entrance, and sucked them into his mouth. Your eyes connected as he stared up at you, his tongue gliding up each finger as if he were a starved man. 

Fuck control, and fuck the oil change; you needed him. Now. 

“Take me, cowboy,” you pleaded. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Y’gonna regret sayin’ that,” he warned, hauling himself to his feet. 

Joel’s arms wrapped around the back of your knees, throwing you over his shoulder. You yelped at the sudden movement, your hands bracing against his lower back. The garage became a blur as he moved past the cars and mess of tools on the ground. Maneuvering you onto the workbench, Joel guided you back until you were flush with the wooden bench, his body hovering over you. His hands moved swiftly on his belt buckle, letting his cock spring free as he hauled your legs over his shoulders. 

“Don’t get grease all over me,” you said. “Keep your filthy hands to yourself, cowboy.”

“Oh, don’t worry, m’gonna make a fuckin’ mess of you,” Joel smirked and lined his cock up with your entrance. 

He drove into you with such force your body shifted upwards on the bench, your skin digging into the wood as you tried to adjust to his size. No matter how many times Joel fucked you, you were always breathless when he filled you with every inch of his cock. He had you bent in half in this position, his hands braced behind you on the bench, and your legs folded over his shoulders. The strength behind each thrust was brutal, and you cried out with each snap of his hips against yours. 

“Did ya’ enjoy teasin’ me, babydoll?” He grunted. “You like seein’ me on my knees beggin’ for this pussy?”

“Yes!” You wailed, tears forming in your eyes. 

“Gonna make you fuckin’ beg for my cum, darlin’. Let’s fuckin’ hear it. Scream for me.”

Joel fucked you with abandon until you were a crying mess. Your hands wound around his neck, nails digging into his skin just for stability. The flutter of your cunt around him sucked him in further, plunging his cock at a deeper angle that catapulted you right to the precipice of release. He knows it, too. If you thought his pace was brutal before—this was violent. He was claiming you in every single buck of his hips, and you steal a glance upwards to see his face twisted up in determination. 

Your voice was becoming hoarse from screaming his name; the void of the garage filled with the sounds of your cries and the disgusting slap of his hips against your slick cunt. Every muscle in your legs tensed and shook as you tried to quell the desperate need for release. You couldn’t hold it much longer; his cock was rubbing against that perfect spot inside you. 

“I can feel that pussy clenchin’ my cock, babydoll,” Joel whispered, lowering his mouth to your ear. “Don’t fuckin’ cum yet. Not ‘til I tell you.”

“Joel, I—I can’t wait,” you sobbed. “Please, I need it.”

“Be a good girl for me,” he growled. “You can do it.”

Your chest heaved with another sob, the tears overflowing as your cunt clenched harder. You were using every ounce of your energy to hold your orgasm at bay, to force your body to wait until he gave you that release. His greased fingers found your overly sensitive clit, pressing right against the bud and alighting the nerves inside you. Your back arched off the bench as you stifled another scream of pleasure. 

“Look at you,” he taunted. “So fuckin’ desperate now, huh? Teased me all day, and now y’wanna cum so bad? Alright, babydoll, cum for me.”

The world fizzled out as your orgasm wracked through your body, lurching you upwards into his arms as you clung to him with shaking limbs. A stream of liquid poured from your pulsating cunt, a ripple of pleasure folding over your nerves and tumbling you into oblivion. Joel’s body tensed under you as he filled you with his release, hot ropes painting the inside of your cunt. Another wave of arousal tore through you, drenching the bench beneath you and dripping onto the floor. Even amidst the haze of your orgasm, you could hear Joel chuckling softly.

“Told you I’d have ya’ drenchin’ the ground.”

“Shut. Up.” You panted. 

“Mhmm,” he hummed, kissing your tear-soaked cheek. 

Joel removed himself from you, easing your sore legs off his shoulders and placing your feet on the floor. Your vision was still blurred as you stared at his face, his lips twitching with a smug grin and a trail of sweat rolling down his temples. 

“I reckon that oil’s ready to check now, darlin’,” he said, offering you a hand.

You took it, winding your fingers through his. With a squeeze of his fingers, you walked over to the car, trying—and failing—to hide the limp in your steps. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and down your thighs, but you watched silently as he pulled out the dipstick and presented it to you.

“Good job, darlin’,” he smiled. “Now ya’ know how to change the oil. Whatcha wanna learn next?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your underwear from the floor and slipping them over your hips. 

“Maybe I can teach you how to slow down your damn sex drive, cowboy. You’re gonna fucking break me in half one day,” you grumbled. 

“Don’t think you’d mind it much, babydoll.”

Joel tugged you close, tipping your chin up to meet his lips with a tender kiss. You were pliant in his hands, molding yourself to each hard muscle of his body. Running your hands up his biceps, you gripped his shoulders and slipped your tongue over his. He palmed your ass, pressing your body tighter against his chest. 

“You’re a terrible teacher, you know that?” You mumbled against his mouth.

“But ya’ love me,” he tossed back, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. 

“Yeah, I do,” you sighed happily. 

“And I love you, babydoll.”

[rosequarzo]

that boy is mine.

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა • ! alhaitham + reader reader is female established relationship modern + college au ☆ warning not proofread . . . !? & 1064— catalogue

note. listening to that boy is mine gave me an idea so, here you go. this is so messy i hate this... i might delete but we'll see... tagging @rninies

There is no doubt that Alhaitham is popular. Incredibly popular, in fact but not that you could blame them. Who wouldn’t fall victim to his handsome, stoic and quiet personality? It goes without saying that he has gathered a concerning figure of fans. Heck, there was even a fanclub made just for him. Dating the famous guy on campus proved to be a difficult task for you, since you have to restrain yourself from jumping on them whenever they looked at your boyfriend with a dreamy expression. 

No one knew that you were dating, no one other than your circle of friends of course. It was thanks to Kaveh barging into his roommate’s room without knocking the door, only to stumble upon the sight of Alhaitham hovering over you on the bed and the rest was history. Although, you were glad that your peers have known about your relationship, as it proves to be a difficult task trying to keep it low. 

“Hey, look. She’s trying again,” Cyno nudges you with his elbow, pointing ahead of him and you follow his direction with your eyes. 

The sight before you greets you with distaste and faint jealousy. It was none other than the newly-transferred student, approaching your boyfriend and attempting to engage him in a conversation. Keyword: attempting. Everyone knew how Alhaitham was; ignoring the public but when it comes to you, his focus was entirely on you; like you were the only one that matters to him. Kaveh sniggered; amused with how Alhaitham was ignoring the student, focused on reading his book. 

“Don’t you get tired of people chasing after your boyfriend?” Kaveh asked, reaching out to steal your fries, only to flinch when you slapped his hand away. 

“No, not really. In fact, I found it funny and chose to watch for my entertainment,” you shrugged your shoulders, focused on observing the scene unfold itself from the sidelines. 

None of you could hear what the student was saying, due to the distance between the two of you but you could tell she was starting to become irritated, judging from the way she furrowed her eyebrows and her lips curling downwards. The next thing you knew, she had the audacity to pull him back when Alhaitham was about to leave. The mere sight of their hands touching made you see red. You shot up from your seat, startling your friends and they watched, dumbfounded as you stormed your way towards them. 

“Uh, do you think we should stop (Name)?” Kaveh asked, getting worried about what’s about to happen. 

“Nah, this is going to be good,” Cyno shook his head, pulling out his phone and getting ready to record the chaos. Tighnari merely lets out an exasperated sigh, feeling a headache forming. 

“...think you are doing? Let me go,” Alhaitham’s annoyed voice rung through your ears as you got closer to them. 

The student huffs, standing her ground and meets his eyes with a defiant gaze in them. “Look, why are you not interested in me? I can be anything you want and besides, there’s no harm in giving us a try.” 

Alhaitham scowls, eyes narrowing. “I’m afraid you’re misunderstanding something. There is no us.” 

“But-” 

��Hey, do you mind letting him go?” You interrupted, standing behind the girl and flashed her a closed-eye smile; a smile that was anything but friendly. 

You saw how your boyfriend’s eyes widened slightly, surprised to see you but you ignored him, focused on getting rid of the unwanted presence standing between the two of you. The student fully turned, eyeing you up and down with disgust written all over her face. 

“And who are you supposed to be? We’re having a conversation here,” she asked. 

You arched an eyebrow. “I’m his girlfriend, you dumb bitch. Don’t make me repeat myself: let him go.” 

It seems like she was more stubborn than you thought, for she didn't believe your words and laughed. “You’re his girlfriend? Yeah right, like I believe that.” 

Humming, you walked around her to stand beside Alhaitham. You could see how your friends were looking at you from the corner of your eyes. At this point, everyone nearby was looking at you and why not put on a little show for them? Without warning, you grabbed your boyfriend by the collar of his shirt, harshly tugging him down and kissed him fully on the lips. Your abrupt action elicited a high-pitched scream from Kaveh and a round of startled sounds from the public. If you listened closely, you could make out the faint cheering sound from Cyno. 

The kiss ended as fast as it happened, much to Alhaitham’s disappointment. When you pulled away, you were greeted with the satisfying sight of the student staring at you, rendered speechless. Her eyes were wide open to the point they might have popped out from its sockets. You smiled and shot her an arrogant grin.

“Well? Does that answer your question?” You taunt. 

Utterly humiliated in front of everyone, she had no choice but to flee the scene. The nearby people soon went back to minding their business once the drama had ended, and the two of you returned to where your friends were. 

“Wow, I didn’t know you had that in you. Not bad,” Kaveh gave you a thumbs-up before turning to his roommate who sat down beside you. 

“So Alhaitham, how does it feel now that your relationship is exposed?” He asked. 

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” he retorted, his hand moving to rest on your thigh underneath the table; hidden from everyone’s eyes. 

“Tch, you and that shitty personality of yours,” the blond grumbled, making you laugh. 

“All’s well that ends well. Hopefully no one will dare to confess to you anymore,” you pointed out and your words made a faint smirk form on Alhaitham’s handsome face. 

“Don’t tell me you were jealous,” he taunts, faint mischief glimmered in his eyes. 

“I was not,” you defended yourself, hating how he had turned the tables on you. 

“Uh huh, whatever you say love,” he nods his head, obviously not buying your lie. 

The sudden pet name used made your cheeks flushed red followed by Kaveh making disgusted sounds in front of the two of you. “Ew, you two should get a room.” 

“We did but due to a certain someone, our time-”

“Alhaitham!” 

[ceruleancattail]

*slams into your inbox and tosses this link down*

https://www.tumblr.com/ceruleancattail/748052645275631616/bsjudhdhsjisixjxjejeidkjx-ooh-ym-god-oh-my-god

EXCUSE ME??????? CERU????? GOOD GENTLEPERSON*?????

This!! That!! It!!

I like. <3

Can I has some more? 🥺

You said specific people so… I honestly can’t decide between Ace and Cater because I think both of their reactions would be ADORABLE in this situation 😭 And no, I didn’t just make Cater one of the options because it’s you.

So… writer’s choice! 💜

*I don’t know a gender neutral version of good sir/good lady so this is the best I could come up with helpppppp 💀💀💀

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA gentle person is a vibe nvm I’ll take it lolololol- ANYWAYS OOPS SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY LOLOLOL I PROMISE I WAS WORKING ON IT- also im sure cater is just there for no reason at all… yeah… I believe that… yeah….

Summoned for… Cuddles?

Mystic AU

Kitsune Ace x reader, Kitsune Cater x reader

Ace never likes to appear directly in front of you. It’s an annoying trait of his, really. As a prankster, he loves having you on your toes, glancing around the room all in a fluster. Before he pops into your blind spot, poking you playfully in the cheek. It’s like a little game he loves to play. Hide and seek, but he’s assured he’ll always win. Part of you feels like he craves the attention his antics bring him.

Fine, two can play this game.

Whispering his name, you sit yourself down, back against the wall. Gaze flickering from left to right, wary for any tell-tale sign of Ace. Your shoulders were hunched, ready to pounce whenever and wherever. Despite your caution, you allowed yourself one satisfied huff.

Let this sly fox try to catch you off guard now.

Yet you made one fatal mistake. You were so preoccupied with the area you could see, you never considered another angle: above.

You felt something soft graze against your cheek, before a scarlet mop of hair dropped into your vision. Widening your eyes in shock, your gaze met a pair of crimson irises, narrowed in a dastardly smugness. Ace Trapola, your familiar. Hanging from mid air, a boyish grin stretched across his lips. Lowering a hand, he taps the very tip of your nose playfully, snickering all the while.

“Nice try, Master. But as I always say, the stories always have one sly fox…”

Before he could complete your sentence, you rushed forward. Pressing your lips into his, feeling the warmth of Ace’s breath waft onto it. Face flushed bright red, you give him a quick little peck on the lips, before pulling away immediately.

In the midst of all your embarrassment, you mustered up the most confident smile you could, before grinning right back at Ace.

“Who’s the dumb bunny now, huh?”

For a moment, Ace’s face froze. Before a fiery scarlet spread across his face, a raging inferno. He opens his mouth, only for the words to come out in stutters and mutters. It takes a few shaky breaths for Ace to finally regain some illusion of normalcy, yet the pink on his cheeks lingered.

His fingers grazed the bottom of your chin, stroking the curve of it ever so softly. Tenderly, the touch of a lover’s gentle hands. Ace lowers himself to your position, before he flashes you another fanged smirk:

“Now, I’m not too sure about that, Master.

I think I need another kiss to decide, yeah?”

Cater doesn’t usually need to be summoned. He seems rather content tagging around behind you, grinning away like a cunning fox. Compared to the others from the Heartsabyul clan, he seems the most in touch with modern day society.

At least, he uses your phone with more skill than you ever will. Stretching the phone, his tails wrapping around your waist, dragging you into frame whenever he can. Cater looks at you expectedly after every shot, waiting for your thoughts on them. If you say they’re nice, he’s beaming away for the rest of the day, his smile as radiant as any diamond in this world.

Cater’s fond of taking photos, and he shows you each and every one. You’re not too sure why, but there was something endearing about the passion he puts into every shot. Sometimes, he’ll travel insanely far just for one photo. You admire that determination, of course.

Just that…. Sometimes you feel lonely.

Pressing your hand into the floor, you whisper his name. Only to have something warm curl under your chin, gently coaxing it upwards ever so slightly. You came face to face with your familiar’s ever so familiar smiling face, shining right at you.

It wasn’t blindingly bright, like the sun’s harsh golden rays. No, it was the quiet radiance of the moon, gently illuminating the night. A soft, calming sort of aura that immediately comforting your pinning soul.

Cater drops into a squat, tilting his head ever so slightly to the left inquiringly. His eyes follow, flopping over to the left as well. A rather comical sight… yet it still was adorable, though.

“What have ya’ called me for, Master? Did you miss me? Just kidding-“

Cupping his cheek with your hand, you hold him tenderly, a small smile slipping across your lips.

“Yes. I did miss you, Cater.”

He blinks, surprised. Before he lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze softening. His hand gently presses into the back of your palm, holding it in place. Nuzzling into your hand, Cater heaves a sigh of relief. Melting into the warmth of your very touch.

“I missed you too, master dear .

Very, very much.”

[salaciousdoll]

Giving erwin head seems like a dream to you especially while he watches your sextape featuring the men of your dreams

· · " Says It Feels Like Heaven To Him" · ·

･˳ . ⋆ Featuring Professor! Erwin Smith with Guest Appearances of Levi Ackerman, Miche(Mike)Zacharias, Nile Dok ( even threw in a little Zeke and Eren Kruger for a second) x Fem! T.A. Reader･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings: Smut, fivesome( just in the video), Apple Vision hasn’t come out yet so work with me here on the little research I did, Erwin is rich, double penetration in both and one hole, fucked dumb, deep throating, oral ( m receiving while watch the video on the Vision Pro), aot au/ modern au, sloppy top for Erwin cause he deserves it, I think this has plot, idk, spit roasting, pet names, big praise kink, some degradation here and there, I may make another one with Zeke and eren Kruger( don’t know yet, throat bulge, big and heavy cock Erwin, tears( dacryphillia), Levi being a mean and nice Dom, black reader in mind but anyone can read, Dom Erwin, chubby reader, may be considered dc, first time writing for him so he may be ooc, overall nasty nasty stuff

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Word Count: 3.7k

18+, Minors do not interact

Credit for art in header

Psa: the italics is the video playing on the Apple vision pro headset

With the void, black space and sparkling little dots in the sky, you traveled home in your car listening to the radio play hits of the month. Tonight was heavenly for you, you loved hot summer nights ever since you were a kid, don’t even get you started on spring or fall nights. Summer nights were filled with people walking on the sidewalks talking with their friends, relatives, and partners. They were filled with loud music blaring from bars, clubs, and people sitting in their cars.

As you drove to your professor's house as his T.A., You passed lots of entertainment and that made you smile so much. You couldn’t wait to collect the test answers so you could grade your students' tests. You wanted to be able to enjoy this adolescent night. You were planning to go to a restaurant that stays open until 4 am with your friends since they needed to catch up with you. All you need is the test answers and then you’re set, probably should be finished by 12:30 am. Your friends should be coming out of the club by 2:30 am, so you’ll even have time to shower and get ready. You all decided to pull an all-nighter because you missed the days when you used to do it.

You passed a few big houses before you made it to his large house, the house always brings up memories you held deep inside of your memory. Memories that you shared with 4 other men including Erwin Smith. You stopped your car and got out after turning the headlights off. Your keys jiggled and moved as you walked up to his door proudly with a small smile on your face. Once you made it to the double entry wrought iron doors that stood taller than you. You have no idea how he could afford this but you had a guess in mind since he wears a lot of expensive tailored suits to work.

You pushed the doorbell, rocking back and forth to calm your nerves of being here again. You haven’t been here in a month, couldn’t face them outside of work. You were glad you only got to see Erwin instead of Levi, Who was in the same department as Erwin but had a different subject— which was Writing while Erwin had History. Miche was in the art department while Nile was in the science department with Hange. Hange, a person you wished you could’ve had there as well since you’ve always eyed them.

You rang it again before deciding to knock on the door when you didn’t hear an answer. You moved to the side and peaked through the glass to see if you saw anyone and you didn’t. So you stood there for a minute until you decided to just go in. You twisted the doorknob and it opened, it was almost like someone left it open for you. Erwin definitely did because he always used to say let him know when you’re on your way and you did, only two hours ago. You shrugged your shoulders and walked inside— closing the door softly, avoiding the slam the door always did when you used to come here freely.

You walked to the entrance of his living room and heard his groans loud and clear. He was too occupied in pleasuring himself out in the open to even realize the door bell had rang. He had on the new Apple vision pro vr headset and the noise coming from them was so lewd that you were speechless. You could hear it from where you were standing, so you slowly put your purse/bag on the table an arm length next to you and slowly walked to him.

Once you got closer to Erwin, you heard the slick noises of him stroking his dick up and down with , from the smell of it, strawberry lube you brought over here from the last time you were here. He kept it with him and you wanted to know why, soon you will find out. Just as you were about to speak, you heard your voice speak from the headset in a needy tone.

“ Fu-ah-ck~!! I can’t take it anymore Miche, please please please.” Your moans were so pretty and you almost wanted to pat yourself on the back from how pornographic they sound. You slowly walked around the couch and stood on the edge of it looking directly at Erwin.

“ shit! Welcome, Miss { reader’s last name}. Your…”. Erwin was stuck when his dick pumped in excitement in his hand. You didn’t know if the excitement was from the video, the adrenaline of being caught, or from your stare on him. His body was sweaty and you could tell he’s been at this for a minute now because of the smell of strawberry and cum around him. The saltine air was doing something to your senses and it went straight to your now tingling pussy.

“ Is this how you greet all your past T.A.’s, Mr.Smith. If so I’ll begin to think of you as a horny pervert. Wouldn’t want that now would cha’?”. Your whispering was getting to him as you now noticed he paused the video with his finger pressing into the air. “ How can you even see out of those? Hmm, wanna give me an explanation as to how that is and what I just walked in on.” Your voice was so alluring to him, it didn’t matter if you had a gruff velvet tone or soft tone, he loved hearing your voice.

Erwin showed you his small smile as he began to talk again after searching for his voice for about 5 seconds, “ I would gladly explain this futuristic device to you later, miss { readers last name} but I’m a little preoccupied with trying it out right now. If you’re looking for the test answers, they’re in my office down the hall. Specifically on the desk.” He then lifted the device off his eyes, setting it on top of his blonde, unruly hair. Sweat built upon his forehead as the lines from the device formed on his red face making him, surprisingly, look very enticing to you.

You looked back at the hall he pointed to prior to looking back at him with low eyes, “ They’ll have to wait for now. After all, we have a three day weekend starting tonight, so why don’t I show my appreciation to Professor Smith. Put back on that VR set, sir. Want you to focus on that video and that video only.”

He almost let out a low groan at the pet name he so desperately loved, especially when you called him that. School or not, he’s always gonna feel something when you call him that. You slowly took off your top as he slid the car set back on his face. After your top came off, your bra followed— gently falling to the floor. You walked up to Erwin and slowly got on your knees in front of him. His cocked open legs were so thick and muscled, you were planning on riding them sometime in your life, maybe tonight. Who knows. You trailed your acrylic nails up his thighs— dragging them close to his trimmed pubic hairs. You watched as he bit back a moan and as his dick jumped against his lower stomach. The red angry tip was having a stare off with you and you were winning because of his twitching.

Your knees hurt on the carpet but you were gonna ignore it for now. You wanted his cock in your mouth and you were gonna get him in your mouth. You tried to enclose your right hand on his dick, but it didn’t fit around the entirety of his cock. Thick fingers trying so hard to wrap around his thick abnormal dick, you then pressed his tip on your lips giving him a little peck prior to rubbing his wet tip across the lower half of your face. You wanted this to be messy and you were gonna get it even if he was caught by surprise when you did that.

Erwin was bigger than Levi and close in length to miche whilst being close to Nile in girth. You could tell he started the video over because you heard your whimpers which meant you were being teased by Levi.

“ How long have you dreamed of this, little girl? I’m sure you even day dreamed about being used like a little slut by us. Such a shame really. Such a pretty little shame.”, Levi says on the video. Erwin watched on the big screen he had on his Vr set. He was so glad he got this VR set because he could watch this video in 3d with a fake background of the ocean.

He watched your eyes look up in a squint as you looked at Levi, “ I’m not a little girl. So don’t call me- hnngn.” Two fingers were placed inside of your pussy by Levi who looked at you with low sharp eyes, “ what was that? Couldn’t hear you over you being a slut for my fingers.” The camera panned to Miche, Nile, And Erwin before he set the camera up on the tall night stand in his room.

Erwin moved next to you to plant his kiss on your buttercream scent lips as Miche whistled at Levi words, “ Come on, Levi. You gotta give the girl credit for seducing each one of us with those pretty brown eyes of hers. Eyes that told stories without talking, we’re now experiencing another story of hers.” Leave it to Miche Zacharias to bring his perception into this, reasons why he’s an art teacher.

You, on the other hand, took the tip of his cock in your mouth causing him to let out a low moan. The way your lips instantly lock on his dick should be awarded. The sucking sounds from you was enough to cause him to put down the VR, but he’ll never be able to get to his favorite part if he does.

Erwin's body shuddered when he heard your pleas in the video and felt your lips swallow more of his dick in your wet, hot mouth. You almost vomited on his dick, but you controlled your breathing and throat to take him in completely. Both of your hands were now on the lower part of his cock as spit slowly glided down his dick and onto your hands. Erwin held your head in one of his hands as he tried so hard to keep his eyes on the screen like you said.

The convulsing of your throat was enough to make him want to snap his hips up, but he resisted and let you take control, just this once.

“ Ummph, your dick is stretching me, Nile. Pl-”, you moaned as he slid inside of your wet pussy with the help of miche holding your legs open from underneath you. Levi let a small smirk display in his face in the video. Erwin just now noticed that little smirk and he was so gonna tease Levi for it later but right now your moans plus your lips wrapped around his cock was the only thing on his mind.

“ Ease up a little, Nile and Mike. Don’t want my little TA to call off work just because we broke her.”, Erwin said as he played with your pretty nipples in a clockwise motion making you squirm even more. Levi stroked himself on the side of you while sucking on your neck. Nile was too busy trying not to cum because of the way you were squeezing around his dick, “ Looks like she needs to ease up on me before my dick breaks. She’s fucking tight. So please, sweetheart. Ease up for me, will ya’ ?” Nile held your face in between his hands— looking directly in your eyes.

You couldn’t even think straight because of the fullness you were feeling in both holes. They complimented each other all too well, but you got pulled out of your daze when you felt a kiss on your mouth from a different man. The man in front of you, Nile. His kiss was ruff but a little passionate which suddenly made you loosen up around his dick causing him to move back and forth with ease. Miche groan loudly when you convulsed your other hole around his long cock, “ Fuck, pretty girl. You’re treating my dick so well.” His deep baritone voice sent shivers down your horny spine and you couldn’t do anything but moan, loudly too.

Levi rolled his eyes when he heard you repeating curse words with a whine laced in your whimpers, “ Erwin shut her up before I do it.” He was such a mean Dom and you loved it. Nile and Miche shared a choked moan and groan because you tightened around them at the same time when you heard what he said. Erwin chuckled and turned your head to his standing cock, “ Come on, my princess. Don’t wanna upset him any further now, do we?” His tone was chilling, almost like a threat and you loved it. Erwin took his cock in his hand and tapped your plump lips, “ Open up wide for me, darling. Want you to open up nice and wide for me.” You looked up at him through your lashes as your body thrashed up and down due to Nile and Mike’s movements. They were so in sync with each other as you parted your lips as you could go. Next sounds that were heard were your slurpy moans and the moans of all the men around you as you pleasured them.

Levi was in love with the way you twisted your hand around his cock, “ such a pretty view to see you filled up in all of your holes. Shit! Your fucking hands are working me so perfectly. Being such a good girl right now, baby. Keep it up for me, got that?” Your moans on Erwin’s dick told everyone everything they needed to know. You were gonna be a good girl for them after all.

Erwin couldn’t handle the way your head bobbed up and down on his cock with ease now. Your throat warmed up to him and he couldn’t be more proud of you. You were struggling to take him in the video but now here— it’s like you were a new person or spirit. He loved every second of it, paying attention to the dick sucking sounds you made as you devoured him. “ Mmm” and “ hmm” were heard all around his living room. Teary eyes was something he saw after rolling his eyes to the back of his head in pure lightness. He looked down at you slurping his cock up like you were drinking out a small straw with a thick ass milkshake.

Erwin reached to the top of your head, setting a shaky palm just over your hairstyle, “ May I?” You bobbed your head up and down to answer his question and he sequenced after moving whatever hairstyle you had in your hair out from your eyes, so you can really see. One of the small things you noticed about Erwin compared to the others is that he knows the boundaries and doesn’t over step them without thinking about it. Bare minimum? Yes.

He tasted so good in your mouth, salt with a small hint of used cum. You couldn’t describe it exactly but you knew his dick had just the right flavor to openly want to suck his dick up the way you’re doing it right now. Hollowing your cheeks caused him to spring up and try to knock his knees together but you scratched at his stomach letting him know to sit down and take it like he told you plenty of time on his desk, bed, etc. “ Ah, Ah, swee-sweetheart, I’m going to cum soon if you keep doing - oahh- that.” Erwin was never this vocal before and he needed to start being this vocal because now one of your hands dropped from his dick— moving down to your undergarment. You rubbed yourself in slow circles feeling the wetness spreading on your fingers like it was honey.

You removed your other hand and dropped that one to his balls to play with them in a soothing but pleasuring way. Your moans were getting louder on the screen and off the screen. It wasn’t just only your moans though, Erwin’s moans were off screen. He was enjoying himself too much and honestly he didn’t care. He was mouth drunk in a sense. Could wait for it to end no matter what. He didn’t want this memory to end at all. Miche was right, you were a part of the memories he had to reminisce about when he gets older and wither away like all older people do.

The sounds of gagging were heard when your mouth moved further down his cock up until the little blonde hair on his pelvis. Your moans from playing with yourself were stuffed so good with his cock deep down your throat. “ fuck! Sweet girl, your mouth and hands feel so good. So. Damn. Amazing. Keep going for me, my sweet doll.”

The video now showed you now taking him and Levi inside of your pussy together. Your screams of pleasure were one for Erwin’s history books. “ Fuck, she’s fucking swallowing my dick right now. Erwin you choose the right one to be your damn T.A.” Erwin chuckled as he focused on holding your thighs— you were in the cowgirl position on top of him.

“ You should see her face taking both of us right now, Levi. So damn beautiful.” Erwin kissed your neck wrapping both of his arms around you— Levi wrapped his arms around your arms pulling your upper body up a little bit, “ beautiful huh? Maybe Mike or Nile could take a picture and send it to Eren Kruger and Zeke, let them know what they’re missing.” Tears fell down your eyelashes as they battered their dicks inside of you with soft little kisses from Erwin to comfort you even more than you already felt.

Miche chuckled with his head tilted back before getting up to come hold your chubby face in between his big hands, “ such a beauty indeed. Even more beautiful with a fucked out expression on your face. Such a pity they couldn’t come, huh.” Nile came up beside him, both with their dick standing on full hard, “ I’ll take the picture only for me, then two don’t deserve to see this masterpiece of a woman, isn’t that right my little bunny?” Just then Erwin snapped his hips up as Levi followed after, both spilling inside of you as your mouth fell into a silent O as you came on their cocks— That silent O soon got filled with a thick tip of Mike’s dick.

“ God, I wish you could see how pretty you look right now. Gonna- mmph.” Erwin groans turned into moans when you let out a little moan against the sensitive part on his dick, his veins. The video stopped and you notice he snatched off his Apple Vision Pro headset and grabbed your head to make you engulf all of his dick without any room to breathe. Erwin grabbed your throat to feel his bulge against it and nothing could ever satisfy him the way your throat bulge did. You stayed where you were until you felt thick salty fluid in your mouth. You had no choice but to swallow all of his cum inside of your gagging mouth. Small Snot flowing down your nose with Spit and the rest of his cum you couldn’t swallow flowed down this dick to his ass. “ Holy shit! Fuck, m gonna cum in that pretty little mouth, don’t run. Don’t run. Breathe through your nose for me….” And you did to which he responded with a lazy smile after he came down from his high, “ good girl. Such a good little slut for me.”

He let you go when you tapped his thigh and you automatically lifted your throat off his cock, coughing a little prior to a small smile displaying on your face, “ Next time, could you do that during the intercourse. I liked it, especially if it’s from you.” Erwin body slumped against the back of his couch as he peered down at you with low blue eyes, “ You’re so pretty. I need you to say it back to me, pretty girl.” You didn’t know where the serge of affirmation came from, but you were living for it as you looked at him like he was the only man in the world. Little did you know, you were always the only woman in his world.

“ I’m pretty— your pretty girl.” Your voice was so low and he knew it was because of his dick. Erwin pulled you up by your hands, kissing them. He then pulled you down on top of him and kissed you on the mouth, “ Yes, my pretty little butterfly. Thank you for giving me the best I ever had …. Now about those test answers?” He lifted up his eyebrow at you. Somehow, you had forgotten about them because your jaw hurt. You’ll have to grade tomorrow and make sure the girls make it back safely. You’ll have to reschedule everything all because of Mr.eyebrows with the big dick chuckling at you waving your hand whilst laying on his chest.

Tagging: @shunsuist @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @emomanswhore @honeybleed @angelshub

[1dcommunityficrecs]

University AUs!

It's the very first crowdsourced fic rec! We have 23 amazing fics listed here, about the trials and tribulations, the adventures and anarchy, the good decisions and bad decisions and downright terrible decisions that come with post-secondary education. We might have graduated high school, but we still dumb as SHIT.

Please enjoy, share, leave a kudos or a comment -- and get your reccing fingers ready for the next theme!

From Eight Until Late, I Think About You by supernope (35227, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry is juggling an English degree at the University of Brighton, a budding YouTube channel, and an intense crush on a fellow YouTuber.

Reccer says: It's so cute watching their feelings and their friendship grow, from flirting in the YouTube comments to texting to finally meeting up in person (oh my god they were (hotel) roommates)

you can hear it in the silence by imogenlee (234857, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

When Harry Styles was accepted into a post-grad degree, he knew he could no longer afford his flat, leaving him with three options: 1) Move back into student halls. 2) Become homeless. 3) Move in with his best (and only) friend, Niall, and three of Niall's other mates. He went with the third option. But it was a close race. Or, two boys couldn't misunderstand each other more, but they want to.

Reccer says: The aaaaangst. The way they can't stop wanting each other despite the misunderstandings.

if it looks like, feels like, tastes like love by tempolarriefics (16600, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

harry and louis hate each other but pretend to date to be able to live in university ‘family housing’, zayn and liam are their nosy next door neighbors, and niall is the friend who made it all happen

Reccer says: this fic is such a cute read and the author included a lot of fun details that also have you cracking up throughout!

High heels on, 'm feeling alive by thebreadvan (14596, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry damages a car when drunkenly stumbling home after a fun night out with his friends. Feeling horribly guilty, he tries to find the owner and make it up to him.

Reccer says: Harry wearing heels <3

Unbelievers by Isthatyoularry (136814, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry and Louis have always hated each other. Or not…

Reccer says: Sport AU, enemies to lovers, College AU

Speaking of marvels by Navigator, quitter (100585, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry is at university in California. On vacation with his parents in New Jersey, he meets Louis. Their story is only supposed to last through summer

Reccer says: This fic is in my opinion unfairly forgotten these days even though it is a Fandom Classic, just wonderful

Don’t have to go to the pool by Kingsoftheimpossible (40857, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Louis is the captain of the swim team, Harry is in love with him a bit, and there's this ritual before Big Meets. Everything goes fine.

Reccer says: A simple an effective plot, a joy to read

Search and rescue me by Wildhalos (17423, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Louis never really paid attention to Harry until they get stuck in the locker room together.

Reccer says: The two characters who find themselves stuck in locker rooms, with all the sexual tension that goes with it. Perfect, right?

Your best line ever by Green_feelings (55116, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

University AU, in which Harry has a terrible job and lies about his name to drunk people, Louis is one of the drunk and has to move out of his flat, Liam shaves his hair because he fights with Zayn, Zayn protects Liam from creepy stalkers and Niall always has a solution, because he knows just about every person relevant!

Reccer says: Already, if Green_feelings writes something, we can already be sure that it will be good. This is even more true with a Uni AU

If walls could talk by Wickedarcher_08 (10028, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry is in love with his straight best friend. He thinks he doesn't have a chance, until Louis presents him with a challenge he can't refuse.

Reccer says: A short story with a simple, effective plot

My worst Nightmare by BooBear411 (191000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan /Zayn Malik, Harry Styles/OFC)

they’re two students who struggle with what they feel. Harry is bisexual and has a girlfriend in the first part of the fic. They live in the same dorm and basically grow in love slowly, but steadily

Reccer says: Well written, the characters develop very coherently with the plot

Fading by tothemoonmydear (202000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Eating disorder

Harry is a science student, Louis studies fashion and ask Harry to model for him. They get closer and develop a solid crush for each other. Harry gets it that Louis is hiding something and he can feel Louis is not completely open about himself. He will love him unconditionally.

Reccer says: Louis’ eating disorder is depicted in a very thoughtful way

The school of extraordinary lovers by Stylinsoncity (191000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Minor violence, domestic violence, past character death

Harry is a third-year witch and violinist at magical academy, with dreams of taking on the world, and hopefully breaking the centuries-old curse on his family while he's at it. he does not dream of facing off against his childhood rival and duet partner, but louis is back in town after six years abroad, so that's exactly what happens

Reccer says: Original plot, writing styles

Blue Moon by aquietlarrie (152907, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Slight mention of death and grief

1950s au - gentle & beautiful coming of age.

Reccer says: So beautifully written, character development, feels like you grow with the characters

Reeling Through The Fall by Zarah5 (40068, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

AU. They hate each other. Except for when they don’t.

Reccer says: Zarah5 is always perfect

Anonymous Said by alivingfire (21158, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry has a crush on the sweet boy who he sends anons on Tumblr. He also has a crush on the cute boy in the bookstore. Fortunately, they're both the same boy and they both like him too.

Reccer says: Watching Louis and Harry fall in love with each other TWICE in the same fic? my crops are watered my skin is clear my cows are fed 18/10 no notes

The First Year by parmahamlarrie (46972, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry and Louis are roommates, sunshine and punk AU.

Reccer says: The way they get together through it all, and the fluff that comes after *chef's kiss*

knock knock, I love you by beautlouis (86066, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry and Louis get kicked out of a statistics exam for passing a knock knock joke note, and subsequently fall in love. Harry's a virgin, there's a cat, a hot cocoa date, a lot of sex, even more knock knock jokes, and everything is lovely and happy.

Reccer says: It's wonderfully cheesy and fun! The perfect fluff! Just adorable, fluffy fic and a real serotonin boost

painted on jeans by QuickedWeen (6822, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Girl Direction sorority au, friends to lovers, perfect mix of fun and hot!

Reccer says:

like fires in the night by coldflasher (138520, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Drug and alcohol use

Louis' got a secret stash of weed under the floorboards, his grades are going to shit and his mates keep getting pissed. There are secret passageways in the wardrobes and he can't stop thinking about the mysterious Harry.

Reccer says: a brilliant blend of absolute hilarity, angst and a whole lot of Very Bad Decisions.

Red Brick Heart by hazmesentir (98194, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry had turned up at the halls of residence expecting fun, new friends, and maybe a life experience or two. What he doesn't expect is a surprise roommate who's loud and dramatic and obsessed with tea and is maybe, actually, all he's ever wanted.

Reccer says: It has been a long time, but I remember loving this story quite a lot. Well written.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose by dolce_piccante (112853, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Homophobia, sharing of nude photos without consent, bullying

American Uni AU. Louis hates football players and Harry. Harry doesn't know why. Through a bet Harry and Louis get closer, but the bet might be what breaks them apart too

Reccer says: I liked Harry and Louis dynamic

Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 (208589, Not Rated, Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles, Liam Payne/Zayn Malik, Niall Horan/Josh Devine) Warnings: Religious trauma, conversation therapy, homophobia/internalised homophobia, OCD and self harm

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Reccer says: The dynamic between the characters, Harry's character in general and also the random famous people in the story

[aaizawashouta]

Devil in Disguise

pairing: frat!naruto x fem!reader

word count: 3.9k

summary: why hide your demons when all naruto wants to do is play with them? (Modern au)

warnings: smut (18+ minors dni) fingering, slight overstimulation, oral (f receiving), p in v, cream pie a fight, slight mention of blood

a/n: happy halloween! This is ALL I’ve been able to think about.

Fraternities are the worst. It’s loud. There’s too many people, and you’re burning up in the white turtleneck bodysuit that Ino and Sakura bullied you into. This party had not been on your list of activities for the day. You went to work, being miserable on your feet for ten hours only to come home smelling like greasy food and french fries to find your roommates ready for an attack. All you wanted to do was sit on the couch in your pajamas watching some stupid ghost hunting show while handing out candy.

But when do you ever get what you want?

Sighing in irritation, you adjust the white wings that rest against your back. The headband holding up the halo above your head was digging into the space behind your ears. You only stop fidgeting with it when Sakura shoots daggers at you. Smoothing down the white sweater, you try your best to get comfortable. But it’s hard when you can’t breathe. The air is thick and hazy despite the back doors being open. The sound of laughter and yelling can be heard over the blaring music. Whoever they put as dj needs to be fired.

“Come on, slowpoke.” Ino threw over her shoulder.

You glare at her back, following the two through the crowd. A sharp glare slicing through the idiot dressed in a toga when he bumps into you. Fuck, parties suck. Sakura forges a path that leads straight to the living room. All the furniture is cleared out except where they’re playing beer pong. You bite back a groan when Kiba spots you. Even from a few feet away you can see his eyes light up.

You raise a hand before he can say anything. “I need a drink.”

He bears his teeth in a sharp grin. “Kitchen is that way, babe.”

“How chivalrous of you,” you mumble.

Of fucking course you’d have to make your way through a crowd of people to get to the kitchen. Heat runs up your neck as irritation settles over you. There’s no subtlety—you’re plowing elbows and knocking drinks out of people’s hands. There’s a multitude of names being tossed at your back, not that you care. An hour, that’s it. One game of pong to appease Kiba and you’re out of here. You came, you saw, you conquered your roommates. Halloween over.

Nothing is ever simple.

The kitchen is almost empty. Gaara and Kankuro stand next to the refreshments. You smile, knowing that they’re on guard. That’s something you actually like about this particular fraternity. They may all be dumb meatheads, but they set clear boundaries. It stems from their president, Naruto, you know. He’s a good guy, can rival the energizer bunny and is pure, honest sunshine. You can see him standing just behind the two brothers. Blue eyes taking in the party around him.

You don’t see him until he’s already on you. Empty solo cup in hand, you turn to run into a firm chest. Your brows furrow, a scowl taking up your face as you peer up that guy blocking you from everyone else. His eyes are glazed, glassy and bloodshot. He’s wearing an easy smile, but you don’t miss the bite to it. He thinks he’s a predator, and he thinks you’re an easy prey. Yeah, fucking right.

“Can I help you?”

“What drink you looking for?”

Your gaze narrows. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.”

“C’mon, sugar. Don’t be like that. L’me get you a drink.” He runs a finger down the side of your face before you’re smacking it away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

He takes two steps forward, crowding you into the corner. Your eyes flash around him, briefly. Gaara and Kankuro are watching you closely. They know better than to interfere, you know how to handle yourself around drunk idiots who think they can fucking do what they want. When rough, clammy hands wrap around your arm and yank you forward, you almost lose your footing. You would have, if it hadn’t been for the blond stepping in front of you.

Easily Naruto pulls the unwanted grasp off of you, pushing him forward to give you enough room to escape. Your heart thundered in your ears. You stayed right there, right behind your savior.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The blond all but snarls.

“Nothing, man. Just talking to the pretty girl.”

“Just talking, huh? Is that why you felt the need to put your hands on her? Backed her up into a corner after she told you to stop touching her?”

“I—“

He pushes the guy, making him stumble. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

It’s like a scene from a movie, moving in slow motion. You see the drunkard's face turn into pure rage, fist flying towards Naruto. He lands a punch, a solid one. A large gash splitting open on his right cheek. It starts weeping blood as you gasp. The guy swings again, Naruto dodges it, right hand grabbing it, twisting the guy’s arm before sending a first of his own. You hear the telltale crack of fist against bone as the guy falls to the floor.

“Kankuro.” He barks, getting the brunet’s attention. “Drag the fucker outside.” His voice is low and rough, and fuck if it doesn’t scream dangerous. And you’d hate to admit that it does something to you, that low voice and the blood on his knuckles and the way he stands in front of you.

You swallow thickly, watching the creep get literally dragged outside. Your gaze moves slowly from the unconscious man on the floor to the one who’s stood in front of you. His piercing blue gaze burns into you as you lift your hand and wipe away the blood that’s splattered on your cheek. That’s new. His gaze is so earnest, full of concern and slightly ticked off. The indent between his brows gives it away. Without thinking you reach out and rub it away.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs. “I know. Didn’t feel right just watching, though.”

“I’m a big girl. I could’ve handled it.”

His eyes take you in from your head to your toes. You’re more covered than most of the girls here. With the way he’s looking at you, you feel damn near naked. “Oh, I know.” He stares a moment more, hands flexing at his side like he still wants to hit the bastard.

“You going to clean that?”

“I’m alright.”

You only hum. “Come on.”

You grab the unclenched hand and pull him along behind you. He’s letting you lead him up the stairs with certainty that you know which room is his. You only know Kiba’s and that’s because you’re here tutoring him three times a week. A small tug gets you moving, Naruto now in the lead. It’s only now that you take notice of his costume, causing you to snort. His blonde hair is down, shaggy, missing its signature bandana. A brown fur piece is wrapped over one shoulder and pinned at his waist. Fucking George of the Jungle saved you in the kitchen.

Naruto leads you down the hallway, second door on the left. You watch as he pulls out a set of keys from a hidden pocket. His mouth twitches when he hears you huff out a laugh. You don't have much time to look around his room as he leads you into the connected bathroom, but the one thing you can't miss are the stacks of comic books on every open surface — his nightstand, his desk, the dresser, the floor near his open closet. You’re tempted to slow down and inspect them, to see what kind of comics Naruto Uzumaki spends his time reading, but when you look up to see him narrowing his eyes as if he's genuinely light-headed, you forget all about the books and follow him into the bathroom.

It's cleaner than you expect for a college guy, and when you close the toilet seat cover and point for him to take a seat, he doesn't argue. You drop down to your knees and open the cabinet under the sink. The peroxide and gauze pads are sitting in a basket full of first aid supplies at the very front. You grab everything you need before standing back up and organizing them on the counter beside the toilet.

"So," he says, wiping his palms on his jeans as you wash my hands. "Is it everyday that you play nurse?"

You bite back a smile as you dry your hands with a towel and turn to him. "No, not normally. I’m not usually caught as a damsel in distress." You tease, picking up a gauze pad and dousing it with peroxide.

He watches you turn toward him, and he opens his legs even more, inviting you to step up between them to get closer. You hesitate before taking a step forward, leaving a harmless amount of space between your bodies as you start to clean his face. When you realize that your arms aren't long enough to clean his wound properly from this far away, you huff, fighting the urge to roll your eyes before you take another step forward until you're positioned between his open legs. He keeps his hands on his thighs and tilts his head back to give you better access, but you don't miss the near smile on his lips.

"Fuck." He jolts back when you press the peroxide-soaked gauze to his gash.

"I'm sorry." You wince. "I'll be gentle. I'm really sorry. I just — I have to clean it."

His eyes are still screwed shut in pain, his jaw tensing as he inhales slowly. It must be deeper than it looks. You can practically feel the pain radiating from him as he takes a deep breath through his nose.

"What, uh," you speak quickly, trying to distract him. "What did— what did you mean earlier when you said ‘I know’."

His jaw tenses again, but he opens his eyes and looks up at you for a long moment before he sighs. His gaze flicks down to the gauze in your hand before closing his eyes again, as if he's preparing himself for the pain, and then he leans forward and nods for you to continue.

"Well," he says, taking the time to think about his words. His voice is deep and throaty, and you have to keep yourself focused so you don't spiral and think about all the different ways he could use his voice. Like moaning your name. Your thighs slightly rub together at the thought alone.

"Mhm," you encourage, brushing the gauze across his cheek, cleaning away the blood from everywhere but the actual wound, too nervous to hurt him again.

"Just that," he states, only this time the tension in his voice is gone. "I see you. I see you, angel." His lips quirk up, and you can see the edge of his gash open a little more when his cheek twitches. “That costume ain’t fooling anybody.”

Most of the bleeding has slowed, and you bring your hand up and place it on his cheek, rubbing your thumb lightly to relax the muscle there so he won't open his wound any further. When you glance away from the bloody injury to his ocean eyes, you finally register what it is he said.

Your face shifts. Brows furrowing, nose scrunched up in annoyance. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You’re trying to focus on cleaning the blood around the gash without hurting him, but honestly, it's hard when your temper is starting to flare.

"Yeah, there you are," Naruto laughs, his brows raise slightly, but you ignore him as you toss the blood-soaked pad into the trash and grab a new one. "You’re not fooling anyone, are you baby?"

You sigh, holding the pad tightly in your grasp. Even with him sitting on the toilet seat he’s still a head taller than you. Looking down, you grimace when you see your outfit. You blend in more now that you did when you first got here. A final girl, moment. That drunken idiot had spit out blood and it got all over you. So much for being an angel in white.

“I can fix that, if you want.” Your eyes flash to his, but his gaze is lingering on the white bodysuit.

“I’m not done.”

“It’ll heal.”

He’s up and out of the bathroom before you could blink. You follow behind him, eyes darting around his room, but they keep coming back to watch as his muscles move and ripple with every step he takes. God, this cannot be happening to you. Not a frat bro. Not the fucking president of the stupid fraternity. What the hell is wrong with you? But it’s too late. Much too late. Because this idiot, this sunshine personified, he already fucking owns you—and he knows it. A lump forms in your throat, your body plopping itself on the edge of his bed, fingers toying with the edge of the black comforter.

“Here.” You jump at the sound of his voice, making a blond eyebrow raise.

“Thanks.”

He watches you fiddle with the shirt he handed over. It’ll swallow you whole. A dress in its own right. A hand wraps lightly around your throat, Naruto grins at the sparkle in your eye. His voice drops lower, making heat throb in between your legs. “Kinda pointless to put my shirt on when I’m going to have you naked spread out on my bed, huh angel?”

“Yeah, probably. Kinda was thinking I wanted to ride your face first, though.”

“God dammit, angel. You can’t just say things like that.”

“Come on, Naru,” you whisper, standing up to bring your face closer to his. “Bet you can make me cry with your tongue.”

“Fuck,” he mutters.

There is no preamble. There are no sweet nothings. Your skirt is yanked off, hot kisses pressed to the inside of your thighs. Moans are pulled roughly from you when he begins to suck, leaving his mark on you. Your knees rest on either side of his head. Clothed center rutting up trying to find friction. You ache, you burn. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“This won’t be sweet,” Naruto breathes against your core, hands gripping you to hold your legs wide open, you hear the flick of his pocket knife, the one you know resides on his night stand, and fuck, you know what he’s about to do. You aren’t even angry that he’s going to destroy your clothes. Whatever gets you out of this stupid costume. “This won’t be gentle.”

The blade cuts through the fabric and you whimper.

“I know, Natu. I don’t want it gentle.”

“Think you can handle it?”

You pull his blond locks, making him groan. “Yeah, baby. I’m certain I can.”

His fingers dig into your thighs before trailing towards your core. He groans, feeling how slick you are. Curses fall from his lips, his finger running up and down your seam. Back and forth, back and forth before he shoves a finger inside you. It’s not enough. You want so much more. Need it. Your Naruto, your boyish, chaotic and mean sunshine boy knows exactly what you need. Pulling his finger out only to shove three in, you keen, hands running up his neck and into hair. Your hips are moving on their own, fucking yourself on his hand. He curves his fingers, reaching up in a ‘come here’ motion, and your thighs begin to shake. Speeding up his hand even more, Naruto starts to flick his tongue over the sensitive nub. His grasp on your thighs holds you down so you’d stop running away from him. His grip is so tight you know you’ll have bruises later. He can feel you quivering, you’re so close, but he isn’t quite done with you yet.

Pulling his hand out of you, he immediately smacks your pussy. Your hips rut up trying to chase the pleasure. He smacks it again before rubbing at your clit. You’re almost screaming from the pleasure. Hands knotted in the sheets, hips canting in the air.

“You’re sensitive tonight,”

You glare at him. “‘I wonder why.”

He laughs. “This is my fault?”

“Yeah, Naruto. It was your damn idea! A celibate angel. What a joke.”

You see the flash of his smile before his lips are crashing against yours. He’s ripping off his costume, throwing it behind him as he springs himself free. Your breath catches as you stare down at him. He’s leaking, hard, and throbbing. You pull yourself up onto your elbows as head tilting to look at him. His pupils are blown, black encompassed by a tight blue ring. It’s hot in the room, sweat slicking up every inch of available skin. You run a thumb over the tip, smearing the precum. Your nails nip at his skin and he shivers.

“Nah, all I got is a horny goddamn brat.” He says with a sharp grin.

“Watch it.”

“That’s not how we get what we want is it?” His voice is thick with want, but you can hear the underlying tone.

Pushing yourself up, you're quick to flip your positions. You hover over him, slowly running your soaked folds across him. He hisses at the feeling, sharp eyes glued to where you’re teasing him.

“If you wanted someone compliant, you came barking up the wrong tree.”

Slowly you sink down onto him. He’s almost too big. The head of his cock snags at your entrance, forcing you to start over. You breathe in nice and slow, working yourself slowly until you’re at the hilt.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses with a sharp buck, you had given him permission and he’s taking it, demanding more–needing more the second he feels the tight velvet of your sex.

“Naruto,” you whine, forehead resting against his.

He nods. He knows. He knows you need this as much as he does. You're clinging to him, hands tugging at his hair, cunt clenching around him like he’d slip free at any moment. His thrusts are slow, building a slow burn inside of you. Your toes curl because it’s just the beginning. You draw back, hips moving in a smooth tempo. You hit a good rhythm, letting yourself breathe, relax, and suck him in deeper. You’re almost where he wants you. He meets your gaze and his eyes hold something akin to mischief. You clench around him and he groans. He thrusts up a little harder than before, causing your head to fall back.

“Eyes on me,” You whimper and lift your head. “There you are, my pretty girl.”

You watch each other, a breath apart as you circle your hips and ride him nice and slow. You’re waiting for him to break. Any minute now. You go from circling your hips to lifting yourself up and down. He muffles out curses, hands gripping your hips to help you set a pace. It’s not a nice one. You flex your cunt, lower muscles bearing down as you grip him. He groans, the sound booming in the tight small space.

There’s pleasure coiling behind your pussy. “Naruto, fuck,”

“What do you need, angel?”

“Fuck me,” You whine, pulling on his hair. “Please, baby, please. I need it, need you.”

His gaze drops from your face to where he’s burying himself in your tight cunt. He nods before lifting his eyes. “Stay with me. Ready?”

You flash him a grin and he jolts, his cock twitching deep. You cling to him, desperate and a little dizzy. Your knuckles turn white with each rough, hard thrust. He slides a hand up your stomach, between your breasts so his hand can wrap itself around your throat. He loves to watch you come undone around him, and he’ll never let you forget it either. Your cheeks are flushed, pupils blown with lust, and lips parted as each of your clipped breaths turn into whimpers. He’s so big and you’re so fucking full. He fills you to the brim, cock dragging against your falls. You love every minute of it.

He hasn’t started yet. Not really, but your orgasm takes you by surprise. The course graze of his hairs against your clit. You lurch against him as a whimper escapes. You melt, boneless, like jelly. You’re loose and wet and fucking perfect. His nose presses into your cheek as he grinds into you.

“I love the way you feel when you’re coming on my cock.”

You snort, pulling yourself closer to him. Guttural grunts and low growls meet your ear. It’s a brutal taking, and you are not wet enough. Tears pool in your eyes, threatening to fall with every harsh thrust. You take what you're given, no complaints. You feel him firmly plant his feet, delivering a sharper thrust that has your head hitting the headboard. He mumbles a shitty apology (clearly not sorry at all) but his grasp on your waist is unforgivable. You’re bouncing on his cock now, meeting his every thrust. He’s deep, so deep you’re surprised you can’t taste him. You pull his hair, grinning when he hisses.

“You gonna come for me again, angel?”

Naruto knows you can’t talk. He knows you’re fucked out, gone stupid on his cock. He loves when you get like this, even better when you ask for it. You shift, opening up your legs a little wider. He groans feeling himself sink deeper into you. You’re swollen and raw and you’re living for it. Nodding, his name falls from your lips, breathless–he’s your only savior.

It builds and builds and builds until it has nowhere to go. It roars forward, jolting you, a scream ripped from your throat and your nails digging into him so hard you can feel when he starts to bleed. Naruto is right there. He holds you into place, stubble grazing your cheek. He fucks you through it, jamming himself into your searing overstimulated sex, he meets his end. His grip tightens, a low gravel filled groan comes from deep in his chest, filling you up. Shuddering he falls back against the bed, gasping for air.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, breaking the silence.

You fall forward, hugging him tightly to you. You hadn’t realized how much you’ve been missing him until you were drunk off of him. You’re aching and sore but you refuse to move away from him. His eyes are still dark and heavy-lidded as he regards you.

“Keep me in there,” he reminds you.

“Mhm.” You hum, scratching his head with your nails. “Missed you.”

“I’m right here, angel.”

“I know, still. You haven’t been inside me in almost a month.” You lightly run a finger over his brow making sure not to touch the gash along his cheek.

“Apart from my birthday.” His words make you grin. “You’re right though, it’s been a shitty month.”

You laugh, lifting your head to kiss him. Both of you jump when someone bangs against the door of his room. You press yourself tighter against Naruto.

“If you guys are done fucking, I’d like to win a game of beer pong.”

Your eyes widen. Kiba. Naruto laughs and pulls his shirt down over your head. You adjust yourself the best you can, watching Naruto as he stands to put his costume back on. He looks back at you, sunshine pouring out of his smile.

“What am I supposed to tell people I’m dressed as now?” You ask, wrapping your arms around him.

“Mine, angel. You’re a mean, nasty brat and you’re mine.”

[fuctacles]

For @steddielovemonth day 12th prompt by @acasualcrossfade

M | 1383 | cw: trans pregnancy | modern AU, ftmEddie

Steve wakes up and does the first logical thing that all people do. Checks his phone.

He blinks at the bright screen trying to decipher his notifications and sighs when he realizes the group chat is flooded with messages. It’s nothing new, although it never hit 99+ before. He scrolls up to catch up with whatever his friends have been up to at night. Wonders if he’s the only one that uses nighttime for rest.

He’s groggy with sleep and as he passes through the chat log, he’s struggling to make sense of the messages he’s seeing.

>>How about a gender-neutral one?

>>I vote Elrond!

>>WHO’S GONNA BE THE GODPARENTS

He scrolls and scrolls and finally reaches The Photo. And things, unfortunately, start to make sense. 

It’s a photo of a pregnancy test.

He immediately goes to his chat with Eddie. Tries to type a message, fails, and hits the call button. It takes a considerable amount of time for Eddie to pick up.

“The fuck do you want?” he growls upon answering, voice thick and distant. Steve clearly just woke him up but he couldn’t give two shits about it right now.

“Why didn’t you tell me first? Wait, is it not mine? No, wait, you can tell whoever you want, of course, but, is it mine?”

“What?” Eddie sounds tired and angry which, fair, it’s 7 AM, not his usual waking hour.

“We skipped the condom a couple of times, but you said it’s not possible, not with all the hormones you’re taking. I’m not mad, I’m not panicking, I just need to know.” Okay, maybe he was panicking a bit, but not bad panicking. It’s just not something he’s prepared for. Is he ready to be a dad? Would Eddie want him to be the dad? Would Eddie want to be a dad? Would he even want to—?

“Shit, fuck, do you want it? Are you okay with your body doing… this? Are you okay?”

“Okay, deep breath, please.” Eddie sounds much more awake now and Steve follows his instruction, anxiously awaiting answers. “I’m not okay; I feel, frankly, betrayed by my body, but I think we’re talking about two different things. Why did you call me? So early, may I add?”

Eddie’s calm. So Steve can be as well. He breathes in and out.

“I saw the group chat. The photo?” He bites his lip. Maybe Eddie hoped he wouldn’t see it at all?

“What? Hold on.”

Steve holds, listening to the shuffling on the other end. He hears the springs on Eddie’s bed creak and thinks it’s finally time to get him a new mattress. Or, if Eddie is up to it, move in together.

He flinches when the soft shuffling of the bedspread is broken by a loud snort, followed by manic laughter. 

Wasn’t it too early for mood swings?

“Stevie, baby,” Eddie finally wheezes out.

“Yes?” He perks up, eager for answers and hopeful from hearing the pet name. 

“Please put on your glasses and look at the photo again,” is all Eddie says, before bursting back into laughter. 

Steve frowns but reaches for his glasses, resting on their usual spot on his bedside table. Once secured on his nose, he opens the chat again and goes straight to the media folder to open the photo in question. He squints his eyes at it.

It’s a covid test, clear as day.

“You’re not pregnant,” he deadpans.

“Nope. Just good old corona.”

“Shit.”

Steve falls on his pillow, completely drained from the emotional rollercoaster. He thinks about calling in sick. He’s too humiliated to show his face to the world and, besides, how is he supposed to teach kids when he’s such a dumb idiot himself?

“And, for the record,” Eddie continues once his chuckles subside, unaware of Steve’s inner turmoil. “I would tell you first, and it would be yours. It’s just been you for a while and I’ve never fucked without a condom before.”

Steve did not know that. He slaps a hand over his mouth so no embarrassing sounds come out at the revelation.

“But yeah, it wouldn’t be possible on my current hormone cocktail. And I don’t think I’d ever be prepared for a little alien growing inside me. It’s one thing to say fuck gender norms for one day and wear a dress and another to completely overturn my body’s ecosystem for a year, maybe more, without turning back.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods because that’s all he can do. He knows a lot about Eddie’s body by this point, but possible pregnancy is not something that comes up in daily conversations.

“Besides, I’ve been talking with my doctors about getting an oophorectomy, so that will be off the table soon anyway.”

Steve frowns, not liking the sound of that but not wanting to assume anything. Again.

“What’s that?” he asks instead.

“Ovaries removal,” Eddie answers easily. “So the hormones they produce don’t fuck with my T shots.”

“Huh.” It will never cease to both anger and amaze Steve how much trans people have to go through to be themselves. “Makes sense, I guess.”

“Mhm. How are you feeling?”

Steve frowns at his ceiling.

“Me? You’re the one with covid.” The fact suddenly, finally, sinks in. “Shit, how long will you be quarantined?”

“Just a week, don’t worry. But I’m asking because you kind of deflated there.”

Steve huffs. 

“My boyfriend has covid, of course I’m—”

“No, I mean, are you disappointed you didn’t put a baby in me?”

Steve chokes on saliva and air, and has to sit up on his bed to take a proper breath.

“Eddie,” he wheezes out in a warning, his face going beet red.

“Are you?” he presses.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Open cards, baby. It’s not on the table, but I won’t be mad if you want it.”

Steve sighs. He worries this kind of thing might break their relationship. It was a topic he avoided, not only with Eddie, but with others he dated before him. Not many people their age are ready for kids talk, for a commitment like that.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Sorry if it’s a deal breaker.

“Don’t be sorry. Nothing bad about wanting to knock up your boyfriend.”

“Eddie.” This time his warning comes with an amused breath.

“What? Just because I won’t do it doesn’t mean I can’t play along.” He can hear him smirk from the other end of town where Eddie’s apartment is. “It’s no condom town, baby, from now on. I want all your cum inside, pushing it deeper with your fingers when you pull out. I’ll keep it inside while we watch TV. And then we’ll go again and again until it catches. Until you give me the baby you want so much.”

Steve whines, eyes closed and imagination running wild.

“Shit, I’m so wet. Didn’t know I have a breeding kink. Huh.”

“Jesus Christ Eddie, you can’t do this to me at the beginning of your quarantine!”

“Well, you’re the one who brought up kids! Which, I think we should have a serious talk about once I’m back in the world.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, and presses his eyes closed with resignation. He should have seen it coming. He loves Eddie, which is exactly why he’s been avoiding the topic of a future together, of kids, of a family.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve been holding back but I think I’m ready to make this serious if you are.”

Steve makes a sound. Questioning and confused because it’s all he can give him now.

“I know it’s a long shot, but we could adopt, or find a surrogate. I can wear a belly if it does it for you? Dunno, we’ll figure something out. If you want to, of course.” He’s rambling, which is a sure sign that he’s being sincere.

“I want to,” Steve assures him quickly. He is so relieved, so excited and full of love, that he’s about to cry. “I love you so much.” And there it is, his voice is already shaking, eyes wet.

“I love you too, baby,” Eddie coos back. “Now, can we get back to the horny part? I know you have to get up for work soon.”

Steve laughs at that, hand promptly sliding down his body.

“Yeah, let’s.” 

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER TEN: RABBIT

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, Daddy kink, implied child abuse, self harm, fatphobia, body dysmorphia

This is chronologically the tenth chapter in the series.

Read beneath the cut...

Napalm is the slow fire of waking from a terrible dream, blind, gasping, burnt. The pain, though delusive, is made actual by the action of nerves.

Only a hand at your shoulder, vigorous in its attentions, hauls you up from the putrescence of slumber into the light-dark of four in the morning. You find Hannibal's shape through lashes gummed with sleep's adhesive.

His face is as impassive as a star, but his hair, ever coiffed, is displaced from the friction of his pillow.

“You were screaming,” he says, as you sit, stunned, in his arms. “What were you dreaming about? Do you remember?”

“No,” you say, although the scenes remain briefly in your vision, doubling like silk screen prints upon the walls.

Hannibal fills up a glass with fresh water and bids you to drink, his eyes pensive, unconvinced.

Only the notion that he may suggest you share his bed or else intrude upon yours impels you to honesty.

“I dreamt that I was trapped in one of the Silicone Lover’s dolls. That he was trying to squeeze me inside, and I wouldn’t fit. He said, ‘You’ve gotten so big since I last saw you. I’d better do something about that.’

“Then he started cutting me up with kitchen scissors, and I couldn’t stop him.”

You pause, choking on a breath, a verbal stagger.

Dr Lecter offers you the water again, which you take in both hands and drain to its end.

“Take your time,” says Hannibal. “When you’re ready, go on.”

Lying will fail you before the all-seeing eye, so it is with a flat honesty that you say, “It wasn’t what the Lover did in my dream that scared me. It was what he said to me. Because he was right.”

You reach down to pull the quilt up across your stomach, which Hannibal, with a subtle gesture, prevents.

“To agree with such a statement there must be some basis of comparison for you,” he says. “You knew the person standing in as the Lover in your dream. Can you name him?”

Hannibal could guess it, from the little you’ve told him of your unclean past, but if memory conjures the name from the gully of silence he does not say so.

Instead, he comments, “I think it’s unwise for you to sleep again until your mind is settled. Perhaps we may take advantage of the hour to continue your therapy, in an informal fashion.”

He sits in a chair by your bed, producing a notepad and pen from a pocket of his dressing gown.

You see that he will not move.

"What if I don’t talk?” you ask, softly. “What if I say I'd rather take the punishment?"

Hannibal's slender lips upturn.

"I wouldn't be inclined to take such a claim seriously.”

In sullen defeat you flounce back against the pillows.

Dr Lecter takes his cue.

“I’m curious about the friendships you’ve formed throughout your life. Have there been any notable examples?”

“Not many,” you answer, looking at the raw edges of your fingernails. “I was kind of the weird kid. It was like looking through a dusty museum window at everybody passing by, not really knowing how to get out there and talk to people. Like I was too old and too young at the same time.

“I got bullied, kind of. Nothing worth talking about. Just dumb kid stuff.”

“Even persecution of a childish nature bears painful resonance in later life,” Hannibal comments. “Moreover, isolation from one's peers may disrupt development in those vital years.”

You think of dolorous hours patrolling a fallow playground alone, three hundred children staring through you with adult hostility.

“I did make one friend,” you say. “First year of high school. Amy Glass. She was a weird kid, too.”

Hannibal scratches deftly on his notepad.

"Describe how you met."

Closing your eyes, you find your way back through the forests of the past to a corridor whose tiled floor squeaks under your shoes. You smell textbook paper and saccharine body spray. The sweat of young bodies, and the stale cafeteria fare you’d never tasted throughout your time there.

“Between classes Amy would sit in a window listening to music, or reading,” you say. “Stephen King, usually. Sometimes Ann Rice. She seemed to be up there all the time. I don’t think she was getting shit from the other kids or anything; she just preferred hanging out on her own.

“I wished I was like that, not caring. I wished I was her, period.”

“In what way?” asks Dr Lecter, and in the hallway of your mind a slender figure appears, brown of skin and eyes, blue hair cut roughly to the chin, its roots seeping in atop it like a stain.

Amy.

“A lot of ways,” you say. “Before I really knew her, it was about how she looked. She had piercings— ears, lip, nose, eyebrow. Teachers would tell her to take them out, then the second she was out of their eye-line she’d put them right back in. And even back then she had these awful stick and poke tattoos of bats and crosses she covered up with band aids for classes.

“She did all of them herself with a safety pin. God knows how she didn’t get an infection or anything.

“Then there was the fact I knew we liked some of the same music because of the patches on her bag, and her t-shirts and stuff. Nothing you’d approve of,” you add, as interest touches the face of your listener. “Jesus, I can’t even imagine playing stuff like that in this house. Anyway, I didn’t want to just be like, ‘hey, you like that band, too’. It would have been too weird. Stalkery, maybe?”

“Music isn’t such a terrible way to form a connection,” says Hannibal, amused. “I was once approached in friendship through a shared taste in cheese.”

Picturing his restrained derision you cannot help but laugh.

“Oh, god,” you say. “What were they thinking?”

“It was a naive assumption of commonalities. Besides, my commitment to professionalism would never have allowed us to be as close as he would have hoped.”

You give a little start of affront.

“You’ve made friends with other clients.”

Dr Lecter’s smile remains.

“Only with those whom I feel my presence benefits.”

“Benefits you, you mean,” you say, pettishly. “Whoever it was, you just didn’t like him that much. That’s why you turned him down. Or maybe he was too like you.”

Without appearing offended, Hannibal turns a page in his notebook.

“I'm unconcerned with debating my personal relationships, little one. Let’s return to Amy. Who initiated the friendship between you?”

“Amy,” you say. “It was after this councillor was trying to get something out of me, and I didn’t want to talk. I walked out that room feeling so... heavy, and grimy, and embarrassed. Then there was Amy, heading to the same office I just walked out of. She looked at me, scrunched her face up, and said, ‘Wish me luck.’ Next time I saw her I made the same face back and asked, ‘how was it?’

“‘The worst, just like always,’ she said. ‘Where’d she get her certificate, anyway? Clown school?’

“I burst out laughing. ‘She’s so bad, right?’

“And that was it. Friends. We went everywhere together. Amy really liked me. I don’t know why. I think maybe she thought I was sort of mysterious and interesting rather than just depressed, probably because I didn’t want to talk about what was going on with me.

“She told me everything about her. How her dad didn’t believe in mental health issues even though he was just like she was, and how her mom just ignored everything, hoping it’d just... go away. But I didn’t tell Amy even one little thing about me, really. Not one.”

Guilt you’ve never truly confronted falls like a petal from a late summer bloom, cloying the dark with its flavour.

“Did Amy ever indicate that she’d recognised your particular illness?” prompts Hannibal, and you shrug glumly.

“A couple of times. I ignored every hint. Changed the subject. Acted like it wasn’t a thing when it obviously was. I knew that she knew. That was the dynamic. She was softer, around me. She got it. She got me.”

Suddenly your breath feels very high in your chest, catching on a rib.

“I can’t help but notice your use of the past tense,” says Dr Lecter. “Might I assume that you are no longer friends?”

“We grew apart after school,” you mutter. “I think she would have liked it if I stayed in touch, but then sometimes I wonder if that’s just wishful thinking, and maybe she didn’t care all that much when we drifted apart and stopping talking.

“I have her on Facebook. That’s all, really. She was never a social media person anyway, but still. I could have tried harder. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Hannibal allows the silence between you to ferment before he speaks again.

“Looking back, what do you think prevented you from maintaining contact?”

“I felt like after school was over she’d find other friends, and I’d just end up being left behind. So I got out of there before I had to see it happen.”

"You abandoned a friendship on the basis of a prophecy that might never have come to fruition."

"It would have,” you insist. “All my life I've had senses about things. Like, if I get a feeling something will or won't happen, I'm always right. Like I was right about you."

Swanlike, Dr Lecter’s hands move across his notebook, tactfully punctuating a note.

"It's common for sufferers of complex post-traumatic stress disorder to misinterpret their hypervigilance as psychic premonition. A heightened awareness of your surroundings and the behaviours of people in your vicinity develops in order to predict danger before it occurs. Pattern recognition is more mathematical than clairvoyant."

"What about my dreams?" you ask, sharply. “Are they math, too?”

"You've had other nightmares?” asks Hannibal, and leans forward, poised to digest you answer.

Canny, you hoard the matter like a serpent its glittering lair.

Hannibal accepts his defeat with grace.

Gathering up his notebook and the empty glass, he says, "That's enough therapy for now, particularly so early in the morning. I'll make you some tea, and you may return to sleep. Peacefully, this time, I hope."

*

Later, there is a meal that sits, sinking in a bath of bronze on Dr Lecter’s dining table, so much of it that you’re gorged merely from the arithmetic of its makeup.

“Arroz de Cabidela,” says Hannibal, as he pulls out his own chair. “A Portuguese dish made with rice, chicken, or rabbit cooked in its own blood. Today I’ve chosen rabbit. Have you ever eaten it before?”

It occurs to you that he expects you to be disturbed by the notion, but you are not. Meat is meat, all of it equally cruel. That life must end for the furthering of your existence has driven you to veganism many a time.

Little chance of sustaining such a diet now that you sleep in the devil’s slaughterhouse.

“No,” you say. “I’ve never tried rabbit. I heard it’s really... gamey.”

Your palate is scarcely educated enough to comprehend the statement. Still, it is apparently accurate, for Hannibal makes a low hum of agreement.

“It has similarities to poultry, in flavour, though it’s rather lean and dry. The blood stew adds a richness you’ll find complimentary, however.”

The scent is certainly inviting, but you are so committed to rejecting whatever is served to you that you feel lightheaded, succumbing to the altitude of starving heights.

“Couldn’t you have given me a smaller portion?” you ask, piteously. “I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s so... much.”

Hannibal glances from your plate to his own, his visage neutral.

“I’ve served you a great deal less than I’ve given myself,” he says. “That said, I’m sure we can settle our differences. I’m not unyielding, if I can see some effort is being made.”

You look him in the eye, hoping you appear more bold than frightened.

“Dr Lecter, you make me all these courses, and they’re crazy even for a normal person. I feel like you do it on purpose. And afterwards my stomach hurts.”

“That’s normal, after a period of fasting. Your body will adjust. Now, please eat.”

You don’t. The cut on your plate makes you think of the Lover’s dolls, how even at your slightest you wouldn’t have fit into such a shell. How, changed as you must be through Hannibal’s cooking, you would ooze over every edge.

“I could use the feeding tube, if you’re unwilling,” says Dr Lecter, rising from his chair to stand at your back. “It would be relatively easy for me to administer. But I’d hate to sour an otherwise pleasant meal with brute force.”

He cups your throat in his smooth hand, and you envision how lovingly he’d coil about you in restraint, guiding the pipe down through you as you choked and flinched in his grasp.

“I’ll eat a quarter,” you say. “That’s it. Then... then nothing else until tomorrow. I won’t sneak out of bed, and I won’t do anything that breaks the rules. Please, Dr Lecter. Uh... Daddy?”

Your confusion between roles endears you to him, as does your breathless, eager willingness to beg.

“Should I allow you to barter?” Hannibal muses, still caressing the wand of your stiff neck. “It’s a symptom of your illness, after all.”

“Just let me choose how much and I’ll try anything you offer me.”

Dr Lecter releases a small breath of laughter.

“I wouldn’t like you to eat your words, little one.”

Gnashing your teeth, you say, “I won’t. I can do it. Please let me. You’re supposed to dote on me, aren’t you?”

You feel Hannibal’s lips against your hair in a kiss of paternal indulgence.

“Always so spirited,” he says. “Very well. I cannot deny my little beauty her request.”

What beauty does he refer to? You’ve only recognised it in the mine shafts of furthest hunger, mistaking a shadow for some precious stone.

Yet clearly you are not so low quality as you believe if both men have fucked you so freely over other women, whom they could conceivably draw into the net of the house.

Then again, there is no accounting for the tastes of madmen, and mad they both are, even Hannibal in his gelid divinity.

From the topiary of his language and flippant games you are beginning to see that you interest him in your very opposition to his being. Were you to succumb completely you would not be so worthy: all men bow to Hannibal, after all, seduced and deceived until they’d lick his fingers like lambs for the milk of his approval.

You, like Will, resist and evade enough of his passes to set yourself apart from the flock.

You may yet throw a halter over the head of the horned man, if only in as much as he allows himself to be reigned.

Quartering your meal as neatly as you're able, you glance up at Dr Lecter, afraid that, by some caprice, he’ll break his code and force you to eat down to the bare plate. But he merely stands by, retaining his honour, and as you look at him you picture his mild hands breaking the neck of the rabbit to drain as though for a ritual of blood.

*

Frequently through your days with Hannibal he immerses himself in hobbies and work about the house, cultivating a necessary solitude after the long hours of ingesting others’ anxious thoughts.

He reads, or writes music, sketches, telephones his friends and past lovers—of whom there are many—or else sets his pen to journals, having seen you safe to your locked room, where he need not prepare for misdemeanour.

In this way your residence in Hannibal’s home does not impede upon his individual pursuits, but rather compliments them, an accent of his sempiturnal glamour.

You are, after all, but one of his many pastimes. It is indulgence, then, when he insists on attending your evening bath.

As he kneels beside the tub to dampen a washcloth his intentions surface, another infringement upon the flesh.

“I don’t need you to help me,” you mumble, arms taut across your chest. “I’m not your baby.”

“Your inner child wails for the tenderness your illness has long obstructed,” says Hannibal, calmly. “Your independence would have you die like an infant abandoned to the forest. Let me carry you, at least in this small act of service.”

You look at him with eyes as dull as old blades and picture the futility of your struggle, his lithe arms holding you, kicking and airless, beneath the foam.

“Don’t you have your own daughter you can do all this with?” you ask; you’ve not yet needled him on his familial relations, and feel yourself more than entitled to know.

Hannibal begins to work the flannel over your naked form, paying no heed to your twitching affront.

“Abigail would have served the role admirably,” he says. “But it wasn’t to be. As for my own children, I have none.”

The revelation passes you without surprise. It’s only possible to imagine him having elegant, adult offspring, absent of the soiling indignities of rearing an infant.

“So you took me away for you and Will to raise,” you say. “Guessing he doesn’t have kids, either.”

The washcloth folds beneath the water, and you gaze studiously at the opposite wall so as not to think about the hand behind the fabric, how it has touched you in other ways, pleasantly, horridly.

“Will is also childless,” says Dr Lecter. “He has never known family, as you have. His mother left him when he was only an infant, and his father was a distant figure, though present. Now it seems that they’re estranged from one another. One can only imagine the loneliness Will has known in his life. Perhaps, with your assistance, this will change.”

Cloth, skin, hands, touch. Gentle and beguiling their trap, to distract from the permanence of this suggested triptych as fingers play against you underwater.

Unsteadily, you ask, “Is Will your boyfriend?”

Hannibal turns you an indecipherable look.

“Do you perceive our relationship to be romantic?”

A strange question, considering the violation with which you were inducted to their company. But not once did either man kiss or grasp the other— a technicality, certainly, yet one, it seems, that holds weight.

“Yes,” you say. “For you, anyway. I don’t know about Will. I know he thinks highly of you. He just sees me as something that’s in the way.”

You kick a foot testily, splashing water over the rim of the bath.

“What are you in the way of?” asks Hannibal, as he begins to lather your hair.

“Not sure. Your friendship, I guess.”

“Do you believe him when he implies that you're only an obstacle to him?”

Water pours over your head, and you close your eyes, enduring the sensation.

“He told me I’m unwanted,” you say.

“When you attempted to kill him?”

Fear bowls over you with a black suddenness.

“He told you?”

“I came to my own conclusions. You weren't quiet, either of you, that night."

You look at Hannibal, at the stag man of your dreams, and taste something like dirt, something like blood, at the back of your mouth.

“Had you seriously injured him or succeeded in your bid to end his life I would have been forced to conclude our treatment,” he says. “But you did not. I’m thankful to have been provided with a truth I hadn’t yet drawn from you: I know that you are not a killer, at least not at this present moment.”

In a strengthless whisper, you ask, “What do you mean?”

Hannibal draws a comb through your hair, unmoved by the conversation.

“As time changes the continents, people come apart through circumstance into new being. That shift may one day lead to the birth of murder’s country.”

A thought stings you like the cold: Will and Hannibal want you to be capable of killing, if not of them, then someone of lesser consequence, the hereditary illness emerging in the child.

That is the secret under this house, the whisper in the walls, its present haunting.

“I hope that never happens,” you mumble. “Never. No matter what you do.

“And yet the whetting of your blood thirst didn’t begin with Will and I,” says Dr Lecter, mildly. “Until you admit your liking of its flavour you will remain unsatisfied, little one.”

You do not ask how he knows you’ve thought of killing, once before, which you yourself had forgotten; having been in your home, the chill sanctum of your childhood bedroom, he may have learned, of you, a myriad, his interrogation merely a practice in contextualising his findings.

“I’d rather starve,” you say, at last, and sink your chin beneath the water.

Dr Lecter takes a razor from a nearby cabinet and begins to shave you with slow precision. He does not ask if you wish for it, only glides the razor across your underarms, groin, and each leg until you run silken beneath his hands.

That done, Hannibal rises, brushing unseen dust from his knees.

“I’ll bring you some fresh clothes,” he says, and leaves the room, a ghost departing the stage.

You look at the razor, entrapped in its plastic guard on the rim of the bath.

Had you a pair of scissors you might have cut the metal free to make a weapon, or else an escape into realms unknown to the living. Though its edge is still wickedness manifest, it would take a great deal of pressure to pursue death by this angle, though it would not be impossible.

It is not death you want to meet, however, but another, nameless coward.

You take the blade to your arm, and the pain is like eating, a sin that sates the freak of misery.

The bathwater turns like a devil’s baptism, and though they are but shallow cuts you feel suddenly faint. Lying back, you lay your arm against the porcelain, thinking murky thoughts of your mistake.

Hannibal returns carrying a muted lilac dress and pale stockings, stilling at the sight of you, of the water, red as autumn mud.

He sets down the clothing and kneels beside you again.

“Let me see.”

You let him take your arm and touch the crude little gashes softly.

“Shower, quickly. Then I’ll treat your wounds. Fortunately, they aren’t so deep.”

How gentle he is with you, this beast dressed as a man in his pressed shirt and waistcoat, guiding your numb form about with a soothing authority. You’d once yearned to be handled like this, to be absolved and set free of any and all expectation. That it comes from him is like being spit in the eye by the Fates, one after the other.

Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos: what have you done to so offend them?

It’s only after having bandaged your forearm and settled you, dummy-like, upon his bed, that Hannibal speaks again.

“What motivated you to do this?”

“You know.”

“Elaborate.”

You lie, face down, in the pillows. The cotton smells like him.

“To feel better,” you say. “Amy said it helped her, sometimes. Cleared her head.”

The mattress tilts slightly as Dr Lecter sits down beside you.

“You mirror her pain to feel closer to love lost. Has it helped you?”

“No. I feel stupid. I feel—”

Restless, you turn onto your side and feel a tear, compelled by gravity, mark your jaw.

“I feel like a kid,” you say. “It’s humiliating. I hate that I always feel this way. Don’t make me live like this.”

Dr Lecter presses a tissue into your hand, as much to save his bedclothes as to comfort you.

“Fighting the expression of necessary emotions will only stunt them further, little one. Will and I would dearly like to see you flourish. Amy would surely wish that for you, too.”

Cradling your wounded arm to your chest, you flick the used tissue to the floor with the other.

“Screw you,” you say. “Both of you. That’s what Amy would tell me to say to you, Dad.”

Hannibal stares at the tissue, and you sense the inward twitch of his irritation as he bends to pick it up from the ground.

“Your parents called again, this afternoon,” he says, offhandedly. “I informed them that you were struggling with your treatment. I advised that we continue your residence here a month longer than previously agreed.”

He casts you a pitying look, and you’re reminded of the futility of going to war with Hannibal Lecter.

“It seems that I made the prudent choice,” he says. “Don’t you agree?”

[the-therapist-needs-therapy]

How To Avoid Yourself From Getting Killed?

Pairing : Xu Minghao x Reader

Genre : Mafia Au

Warnings : Mentions of kidnapping

Minghao might be the only person on earth who doesn’t trash and throw when you kidnap him.

“Are you sure no one saw you?” you ask Jeonghan, who’s wearing an innocent smile on his face. His baby face gets handy during undercover missions, which is why you still keep him around even after the countless of trouble he gets into, like now. “You could have just bought your disgusting snack like a normal, decent person instead of stealing it.”

He laughs, “Oh my, Ms. Y/n. Are you like a baby boomer or something? Where’s the fun in that?” You swear you almost punch him in the face but being the leader for years you know what your members are capable of, so you decide against it. “But no one saw you right?”

His face scrunches into something you can’t pinpoint but you recognize the face. The face of Yoon Jeonghan who just got himself into a major problem but thinks he has a ‘smart’ solution to it, “Yeah, about that,” he motions at Joshua and Jun, who bring in a boy about your age, “We brought the witness.”

You let out a gasp of shock, looking back at Jeonghan and the boy who has his head lowered. “Jeonghan, we promised to never kidnap people again”.

“It’s fine. He doesn’t shout so no reason to worry,” Jeonghan assures you, but you’re not ready to believe him. With the great Yoon Jeonghan, comes great trouble. He proves your theory every time.

“Leave it, let me see him,” you say, walking to the boy while motioning at Joshua to give him a chair. Even after sitting down, he refuses to meet your eye, so using two of your fingers you tilt his head, and another gasp leaves your lips.

He was genuinely the prettiest boy you had ever seen and you’re saying this after being with Jeonghan for years. His eyes held natural calmness and confidence. They pierced into your own orbs, making your cheeks flush red. You’ve never felt anything like this before.

Before your brain could process anything, someone clears their throat, and it snaps you out of your trance. “Love at first sight is dumb. I don’t know how heroines in movies even do that,” Jeonghan’s uncanny impression of yours makes you shoot daggers at him before you turn back to the boy with the loveliest smile you could offer.

“What’s your name?” suddenly you felt like you were in high school once again, where knowing the name of the cute boy in class on the first day was the biggest success for any girl. He stays silent for a moment before answering, “Minghao.”

“You’re not scared?” you ask and to your surprise, he smiles, “What can I do? It doesn’t help in any way. The least I can do is collect my shit together and hope that this isn’t how I die.”

His reply makes you look at Jeonghan, “In 5 years of working with you, this is the first time I’ve felt proud of you, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, but you know he’s secretly relieved that you didn’t kill him for the whole kidnapping thing. “What now? You’re in love with him?”

Joshua smacks his friend’s arms before turning to you with an apologetic look. “He’s just jealous. I’ll take him away for now,” he mouths to you, dragging Jeonghan away.

“Say, Minghao, what do you feel about taking Jeonghan’s place?”

“You really want him to hate me, don’t you?”

You laugh, “No, I’m promoting him. That’s why. I’ll leave you if you’re not interested.”

He seems to be in his own bubble of thoughts for a few minutes before replying, “I think it’ll be fun. I’m bored of my life anyways.”

You clasp your hands in delight. He better be ready for some excessive flirting because you’ve decided that he’s the one for you. How else can your heart race so fast?

[astaraels]

You don’t get how bad I need your fem!gallavich headcanons 😭😭 (that being said pls - with no pressure - share some 🙏🙏🙏)

OKAY DON'T WORRY I'VE GOT A LOT OF THEM TO SHARE WITH YOU I HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR SOME GOOD WLW FEM!GALLAVICH FEELS (these may be a little all over the place but just roll with me here okay? okay here we go)

to start with, Ian is a nickname for Lillian, Mickey is a nickname for Mykhaila (Ukrainian feminine form of Mikhailo)—they'd still go by Ian and Mickey, because if Lip can be a nickname for Phillip then all bets are fucking off :p

technically all of this started with my brain going "lesbian gallavich with hella self image issues" because they don't feel like they can measure up to their "prettier" sister (Mandy and Fiona) but both of them thinking the other is gorgeous as hell. Mickey being kind of a femme/butch (which is why she's the one who calls the shots with her brothers, she's the tomboy compared to Mandy), and Ian wanting to be all pretty and femme but doesn't think there's a point to it because money and also she doesn't think highly of herself

things would be way different for them both as lesbians—Ian would definitely still be the forgotten middle child, although she and Lip would still be Fiona's backup ("you two are my rocks") because I refuse to believe that girl Ian wouldn't be just as committed to ROTC and fitness as canon Ian. She'd be able to kick anyone's ass any day of the week. I think she'd really look up to Lip and ofc he'd love Ian as his little sister but like, with the same kind of condescending vibe he gives Fiona and Debbie? Although maybe since they're practically twins his misogyny toward Ian wouldn't be as blatant.

she'd still be taller than him (tallest Gallagher no matter what!) and have long red hair that she just throws back in a bun or ponytail all military style. I can't see her having short hair just because short cuts can be a lot to maintain, better just to let it grow and keep it pulled back. (I know, I've thought way too much about the little stuff lol)

Mickey would be very punk. With an undercut and all kinds of piercings. Mandy gets more attention from boys but Mickey does get her share, although of course she's like blegh. She'd rather be kicking ass and taking names and proving to her dad that she's just as good at being a fuckin Milkovich as Iggy and Colin—she's got more brains than both of them combined and she's smart as a whip when it comes to doing math, as well as where scamming people is concerned. Terry would begrudgingly acknowledge this but never misses a chance to put her down because she's just another dumb bitch. Only serves to make Mickey more determined to show what she can do, though, and her brothers and cousins are no match for her when it comes to scrappy back alley fighting. She climbed to the top of the heap early on and punches out anyone who tries to take her on.

Ian absolutely falls in the lesbian stereotype of wearing flannel constantly. I feel like she would want to do girly sorts of things but like, doesn't feel she'd measure up to Fiona or other girls so she just sticks with "comfortable" as her main fashion staple. Her and Debbie probably share a room too, although as I said above, she's still super close with Lip. Debbie would ADORE her big sister, would look up to and admire Ian because they've got so much in common—it might even be that she finds Ian's lesbian porn and that's how she knows about it ("penetration isn't required for sex to occur").

I'm not sure how they'd meet in this au but it would still probably involve Mickey chasing Ian around trying to beat her up lmao. my original thought was maybe like, either Mickey chased after Ian because of something Lip did in a reverse of canon, or Mandy thought Ian was talking shit about her. Regardless, the idea of 5'1" Mickey chasing after 5'9" Ian is hilarious especially because I feel like Ian would end up being almost six foot tall by the time she's done with puberty.

even once Ian and Mandy end up being bffs (there'd definitely be some miscommunication, but Ian doesn't wanna get murdered by the Milkovich siblings, so she manages to clear the air with Mandy when she can get away from Mickey and their brothers), Ian probably wouldn't tell Mandy she's gay, gotta keep that shit on lock. So once they're besties she's gotta endure all the boy talk and be like oh haha yeah totally…but at some point Mandy would figure it out, probably because she's not dumb and also Ian "play what cool" Gallagher is not as subtle as she thinks she is. But Mandy, other than asking if Ian has the hots for her ("you're beautiful, but I like you better as my friend"), is actually pretty chill and realizes she doesn't actually mind hanging out with a lesbo. Yes, Ian and Mandy and Mickey would use all the derogatory slurs that get used towards lesbians, although Ian is used to the casual homophobia and Mickey is the most homophobic gay ever (I feel like she'd definitely call herself a fag and a dyke once she gets more comfortable in her identity).

idk how the whole grooming thing with Kash and Ned would transfer over—maybe Ned would be some rich lesbian cougar who wants a kept girl or something. But that's unfortunately a big part of Ian's character, the middle kid who's the only one to be physically abused (and yeah, Frank would still hit Ian, boy or girl), and is desperate for any kind of affection so attaches to anyone who gives it. Kash might be a (seemingly) meek wife to some bruiser of a husband who's short and has small dog syndrome, and that makes her sympathetic in Ian's eyes, thus making it easier for her to take advantage of Ian. I try not to think about Kash too much but it is an important part of Ian's self-image

I'm gonna talk about s3 in its own post because I have some Thoughts and Ideas for some changes to make things interesting :p

season 4 would be really even more depressing because I think that when Ian is manic (there'd be no running away to the army because she couldn't use Lip's identity; instead she'd go straight her sugar mama and from there calls Monica when things get too wild) she'd end up getting pimped out by Monica to really gross straight dudes—not that there aren't creeper lesbians who like younger women, but in general it'd be easier for her to find a job stripping at a regular club (lesbian bars don't seem to have the same opportunities as a straight bar or a men's gay bar do wrt making money). Poor Lip and Debbie finding her in the skimpiest outfit, worse than anything Fiona ever had to wear for a job, with way too much makeup on and dollar bills tucked in her underwear, coked out as hell, skinny enough you can see her hipbones, brain and mouth going about 300 miles a minute...ugh.

But Mickey coming and bringing her home safe and sound <3 beating up the skeevy guys trying to roofie her <33 watching over Ian while she sleeps <333

In a happier train of thought, I love the idea that Mickey really likes Ian's long hair and plays with it when she's not really thinking and Ian gets all 😍😍😍 because it means Mickey might like her omg. Mickey has a partial undercut and Ian loves the texture of the shaved part of her hair. Tells her not to let it grow back out and everything.

Mickey having to stand on her tiptoes to kiss her stupidly tall gf ("You're too tall, Red" "Complain all you want, Mick, you know you like it”). Mickey likes getting manhandled but only by Ian—anyone else tries it and they're losing a hand. But Ian shoves her against a wall and does her whole cocky, smug, looming thing and Mickey can't help but melt in her arms (not that she'd let Ian know about it, not at first; gotta make Gallagher work for that shit. Just cause she's a fag doesn't mean that she's anyone's bitch!).

I also like to think that Ian would try the super femme thing in s4 era and Mickey, once out, would be a little more comfortable being more butch, but they both come off as a mix? I just love the idea of fem!gallavich playing with gender stuff in that very specific lesbian relationship with gender—on one of Mickey's more butch days Ian jokes and calling Mickey her boyfriend and Mickey being like oh

personally I feel like Mickey in her dyke era (s5) is an absolute pint-sized powerhouse, and still an absolute fashion icon because those cut-off vests? the tank tops? perfection🤌🏻

most of my thoughts are of early gallavich because I think things would go much differently since Sammi can't call the MPs on Ian in this au, but lemme just say that there's some fun stuff I'll be adding in another ask to add to the DRAMA

[fairsexynasty]

ˏ🔪ˋ°•*⁀➷･ IF YOU REWRITE YOUR LIFE, MAY I STILL PLAY A PART?

.｡🗡️*⋆⍋*🃏*｡ ethan landry x chad meeks-martin x fem!reader

summary: your living situation had already been a mess. but with how charming your roommates were, it soon intertwined with your love life.

warnings: hurt + comfort, (un)requited love, love confessions, angst, hints to attachment anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of smut (ethan getting dicked down :o), guilt, domesticity, chef!ethan, non gf! au

a/n: heavily inspired by we’re in love by boygenius, that song requires tissues bro. this will be a series :3

you had to have been the worst best friend in the world. there was no logical explanation for the way you’d been feeling besides that. it’s not that you did anything wrong—at least, tangibly. your perspective just happened to shift, as it does with age, but you never expected it’d fuck your life up at 19.

college is a terrible place, swarming with hookup culture. and in nyc, it’s twenty times worse. you liked to think you were one of the only sane ones left, as in, being someone who wished oh-so-desperately to be swept off her feet by true romance. it only took one look around blackmore to see you most likely were not going to experience that from anyone.

but a girl can dream. and dreamt you did.

your living situation was a total fuckup. gigantic fuckup. monstrous fuckup. instead of making a home with girls who would help you create serotonin with every interaction, you were somehow rooming with two, sweetly dumb men.

ethan and chad share their differences, that’s for sure. chad’s cleanliness has been overrun by ethan’s haphazard living, and a handful of spats occur.

“ethan, for the last time, dude. clean up your shit! i don’t even know how your pants ended up in the kitchen.”

“chill out, chad, they’re just pants.”

“yeah, but they’re pants this week, and then it’ll be a condom the next.”

ethan scoffed. “says you. may i remind you, your name is chad.”

you’d always have to mediate between the two, giving them a smack on both their heads so they could feel the pain of the headache they gave you.

ethan’s things being in the kitchen somehow make sense. he’s in there whenever he has free time, cooking whatever try hard recipes he finds on his tiktok feed. they always turn out delicious, but ethan is an extremely controlling chef.

“what are you doing, chad?”

“what does it look like i’m doing? i’m eating a fry.”

“don’t touch the frites for the steak. out. of. my. kitchen.”

“may i remind you that y/n and i live here too?”

“yeah, but she isn’t eating the frites before the steak is ready. i haven’t even made the hollandaise yet.”

but even with their differences, they have many similarities. and those similarities were what had you feeling horrible in the first place.

chad and ethan might just have been the most charming men you’d ever encountered. it was strange to live with a girl in such close proximity, because living with a sister and parents was so different. but they never once made you feel like they didn’t want you there.

for the most part, what was theirs was yours. they never asked for the vice versa because they knew you’d kill them if they ever used your skincare or hair care in the bathroom.

that includes personal space, for some reason.

most nights you three got to spend time together, whether that was going out or staying in. everyone knew you had grown to be inseparable, including all the girls. mindy and anika never failed to call you names and titles.

“oh, look, it’s boygenius.”

every night typically looked like the three of you on the couch, a giant mclovin blanket covering you. you were typically in the middle, with both boys as close as humanly possible to you, as you watched whatever movie was picked out of your roulette list.

when it was a sad movie, like eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, ethan would be silently crying, head leaning on your shoulder for comfort. chad would be watching with wide, watery eyes, singular tears dropping every couple of seconds. his head would eventually perch upon your other shoulder.

with a comedy movie, like your favorite, superbad, typically you were sprawled out across ethan and chad, head resting on the arm of the couch, legs across their own.

and with a romance or drama movie, a train of bodies occurred. chad would be at the arm of the couch, with you resting in his lap, with ethan resting in yours. your hands would find themselves busy in ethan’s curls as you watched the movie, with chad’s chin resting on top of your head.

one time, you fell asleep after the movie in that exact position, and tara swung by to drop off some books. when she entered the apartment (of course she had a key, she was a ‘core four’ member,) she was met with the sight of you three. perfect photoshoot, in her mind.

the touchiness didn’t stop there. when walking outside, your arms were often linked together, or one of the boys would be holding your stuff while the other had an arm around your shoulders.

when you went to parties, they danced with you when you felt like it, and sat down with you when you felt like going on some kind of drunken tangent. and the behavior from them was eye-catching to everybody who saw you three together.

after a humanities class, a random girl walked up to you. the conversation was short and sweet, but left you stunned and questioning every part of your existence.

“hey, y/n. i just wanted to tell you that you and your boyfriends are literally goals. i can just feel the love radiating from all of you.”

love? there was no way chad AND ethan were in love with you. they probably would have beaten each other up by now if they were both into you. but, the random girl did say she thought you were all dating. and suddenly you found yourself watching the boys like a creep.

you kept a note in your phone of every single behavior that pointed to either two things: they were in love with you, and they were in love with each other. by the end of the week, you had amassed at least twenty different entries a day.

for evidence pointing towards their shared loved for you, you found that they’d start staring at you when you weren’t looking. their eyes often had a gleam you’d catch in the corner of your eye, and occasionally a failure of a repressed smile.

when you said goodnight, you’d feel their eyes on you until you closed the door to your room, and they never went to bed until at least an hour after you did, just to make sure you were safe asleep.

ethan would blush whenever you established physical affection with him or accepted his own, and chad would give you the biggest grins whenever you deglammed for the evening (and even when you were dolled up, that damn smile never left his face around you)

now, for the evidence pointing towards them being in love with each other? your theories were solidified one thursday night you had gotten back from the store. as soon as you had opened the door, the sluttiest whimper you’d ever heard, came from chad’s room. and you knew for a fact, chad was not the type to sound so desperate.

with one moan of a, “oh, fuck!” you knew ethan was getting dicked down by chad, and promptly left the apartment, deciding you forgot some milk. you probably sat in the trader joe’s parking garage for a good half an hour, attempting to process what you had almost walked in on.

it was reality. you all liked one another. it seemed too good to be true, though. how could two perfect guys like them, magnetize to you? with all your self consciousness, you shot them a text you were coming back home, and prepared yourself for confrontation.

when you got home, they immediately rushed outside to help you with the groceries. you didn’t make a comment on ethan’s flushed face and the trail of hickeys under his collar— which was the collar of chad’s shirt.

you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest, neck, and skull at the same time. when everything was put away, chad gave you a kiss on the head and thanked you for going to the store.

“i need to talk to you two about something,” you blurted out, eyes fixated on the receipt that laid on the counter. “i think you might want to sit.” ethan and chad had brief looks of fear on their faces, but acquiesced to your request. you slowly trailed after them.

“is everything okay, sweets?” chad asked you after settling onto the couch next to ethan. “is there something wrong?”

you let out a shaky breath as your hand tugged at the sleeves of your shirt. “i don’t know. that’s what i want to know. you see, uh…” you trailed off. it was a struggle to find the right words. ethan patted his hand on the couch in between him and chad, and you sauntered over to them. when you sat down, you played with your hands, completely nerved. the boys took your hands in their own, trying to calm you. you took a breath.

“listen, i love you guys a lot. i really do, and everyone knows that. i mean, i’ve been so happy ever since you came into my life. i just, i really am. but, i think i’ve been having some realizations lately, and i think i’m one of the last people to see this has been happening, but, i know everyone thinks that we’re dating.” okay, that’s not what you really meant to say, but you pussied out at the last moment.

“oh, wow.” ethan said, with a small smile. you saw chad let out the smallest sigh of relief. “does it bother you?”

“yeah, um, no,-“

“wait, yeah as in it bothers you, or no it doesn’t bother you?” chad asked.

“nonono, i mean i’m not done with what i want to say, sorry,” you rushed out.

“don’t apologize,” chad smiled and rubbed your back. “take your time,” he encouraged.

you nodded slowly, and took another breath. “because of everyone thinking this, it made me start wondering if they were… onto something? so, i did a lot of thinking, and, at least on my part, i love you both a lot more than you might think i do. i’m, in love.”

both boys were silent for a moment. you felt your stomach churn, and your hands started to get clammy. as your anxiety crept up, so did the pace of your breathing, and within the silence, tears found their way to your face. had you fucked this up?

however, unbeknownst to you, ethan and chad both looked at each other, a silent nod of understanding, but then they immediately realized you were crying.

“shit, nonono, sweets, don’t cry, it’s okay! it’s okay, y/n!” chad wiped away your tears as ethan hugged you from behind.

“i’m sorry,” you sobbed, “i’m so sorry.”

ethan spoke gently into your ear, “y/n, there’s no reason to be sorry, it’s okay! we’re in love with you too! you didn’t do anything wrong!”

you stopped crying as chad held your face in his hands, a look of pure love across his face. “really?” you hiccuped. “you feel the same?” they both nodded in sync.

“yes, y/n.” chad agreed. “we’re in love.”

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

Hi😊 i hope you're having a nice day!

Could i request a Larissa/21-22 Student reader(young teacher if you're not comfortable writing it with a student)fic with prompts 1 and 50 please? (Smut)

R have a big crush on Larissa. One night, she was walking past Larissa's room when she heard moans, she couln'd believe what she was hearing, she stopped and decided to take a peace of paper and write #50 on it with a 💋 with her lipstic (yea she's dumb like that), not writing her name and slip it under Larissa's door and ran back to her dorm. Larissa had no idea who could've wrote that and she was very embarassed that someone heard her..yk... The next day when Larissa walked past R in the hallway, she thought she saw a weird look in R's face and then she saw the lipstic, that lipstic, and it just clicked in her head. She always thought R was a bit of a tease with her but she never thought anything about it, but now.. Larissa decided to go to R's dorm, not knowing what she would do when she'll reach it. And what she heard throught that door, she thought that maybe she could pay R back for what R has done to her.😉 She openned the door slowly so R won't hear her and closed the door behind her, then she wispered #1. And then it would end up full of smuth, you can add as many kink as you want, even toys if you like, please?😊 (was this request too specific? I hope not😕)

Thank you if you decide to write it, i really love your fics and i really wanted to ask one too! And thank you even if you don't, for reading this!💋

A way too shy anon😅

i took some liberties with your request, i hope you don't mind! i made reader a 27yo phd student and it's a non-magical au! also..... i know i was probably expected to write a short, smutty thing, but before i knew it had a plot and it was 4000+ words whoopsie please don't hesitate to leave a comment on ao3, it makes my heart sing! <3

without further ado, enjoy some larissa x reader smut :) tags: car sex, mommy kink and idk how to tag adkjfshgd

You walk through the dark, empty corridor that leads to Professor Weems’ office. Most people have retired for the evening — it’s late, way too late for an official meeting, but given that lately you’ve been getting rather friendly, you hope she will excuse the informality. You know you will probably find her there, as she often works long into the night — and you really need her help with this chapter. The deadline for your PhD is rapidly approaching and you are still nowhere near done. 

She truly is a great mentor — always happy to meet with you and answer any questions you have, ready to spend hours going through your work and analysing materials you brought her. You somehow always end up spending a lot of time together — more often than not ending up in deep and heated discussions about various subjects (that sometimes relate to your work, and sometimes don’t) after you’ve finished discussing your thesis. You feel like you could talk to her the entire day without getting tired — she is remarkably intelligent, knowledgable on many subjects — her taste in art exquisite, and her takes are often unique. She always leaves you with several book recommendations (“Read this, darling, I am very curious what you will think about it,” she usually says and writes down a title or two, “read it when you find the time for it, of course — you have a thesis to write,” she winks — you somehow always find the time, sometimes sacrificing those few precious hours of sleep). 

Larissa Weems is also very, very attractive. She is an unusual looking woman — very tall, imposing, with platinum blonde hair and a peculiar fashion sense — she dresses like a movie star from the 1940s — but she is ridiculously charismatic, expressive, charming. Her laugh is contagious, her eyes bright and sparkling — you can’t be blamed for being absolutely enamoured with her.

You thought about asking her out once you get your PhD— age difference be damned. You are a 27 year old woman — you are free to do as you please. It’s just that, well — she is your mentor,  at least for now, and even if she wasn’t, she is just way out of your league. You don’t even know if she likes women, (probably not, knowing your luck) — and if she does, there is no way she would like you (even if you did have a very interesting discussion about sapphic undertones in The Marriage of Figaro — that scene between Susanna, Countess Rosina and Cherubino is rather… sexually charged — she seemed to share your opinion).

Lately, you feel your relationship has reached a deeper level — your meetings would almost always end in a nearby bar, where you’d relax with a glass of wine and continue your conversation late into the evening. Last time, she got slightly tipsy and became rather touchy-feely (she seems to be one of those people who are get very affectionate when drunk)— putting a hand on your shoulder, brushing against your leg under the table (then immediately apologising and pulling away), and when you got back to campus, she hugged you before parting ways. You can still recall very vividly how warm and soft she was and how she smelled faintly of sweet perfume and red wine. Since then you can’t stop imagining her touch — in very inappropriate ways. You try your hardest not to get too invested, though — she is your mentor, first and foremost. 

For all those reasons, you conclude she won’t be terribly upset at you if you barge into her office at this late hour. Worst case scenario, she tells you she’s too busy right now. 

You are just about to knock on her office door when something stops you dead in your tracks — a sound.

A moan.

You stand in front of the door. You hear nothing for a couple of seconds and almost knock again, certain you’ve imagined it (because why would anyone be moaning here at this hour?), but then you hear it once more.

It’s coming from her office. Is she with someone (your heart sinks at the thought, and you immediately scoff at yourself — as if you ever had a chance)? 

You know the appropriate thing would be to leave immediately, but something keeps you there, standing in front of the door, listening. 

The moans continue, and there is no doubt about it — that is her moaning, and there is no one else with her. It’s very clear what she is doing.

You should leave, but you stand there, frozen, listening. You don’t really want to go. 

Her moans sound heavenly — they send delicious jolts straight to your core. You can’t help but wish you were the one making her moan. 

Later, when you get back to your room, you don’t know what possessed you to do what you did. Might have been sleep deprivation, caffeine overdose, or lack of proper meals from days of working on your thesis non-stop, might be that she is the most attractive woman you have ever had the pleasure of knowing and her moans were just too much for your tired brain to handle — but you take a piece of paper out of your notebook and write a very inappropriate thing on it.

I thought your laugh was the prettiest sound in the world. I was wrong — it's your moans.

You stare at the note for a couple of seconds. The moans coming from her office are getting louder — she must be getting close to… 

…your brain short-circuits at the thought.

Without thinking, you place a kiss on the piece of paper, leaving a coral-coloured lip-print on it. 

Inside her office, Professor Weems keens. 

You slip the paper underneath her door and run back to your room. 

You continue working through the night, falling asleep on your desk around 5am. You wake up at 8, and by then the whole episode feels like it might have been a fever dream.

You still need her help with the chapter, however, so you send her en email asking if she could squeeze you into her schedule today. You get an answer almost immediately.

I am terribly busy today, but I could see you during lunch break. We could eat out together and go over the chapter, if you’d like. Please send it to me beforehand so I can read through it and make notes! :-) 

Sent from my iPhone

(You find her boomer smileys very endearing.)

You try your best not to think about last night’s events. You are lucky she can’t recognise your handwriting, given that you always write everything on your laptop. 

You steal an hour of sleep, take a shower and put on some lipstick and mascara before leaving to meet her at cafeteria for lunch. If you’re lucky, you will succeed at pretending last night never happened.

You are not lucky.

You can’t stop staring at her mouth as she talks, as she chews her lunch, imagining all types of lewd sounds coming from it. It’s downright erotic, the way her lips move — no one should look that sexy chewing food.

“Darling? Are you with me?” she asks, making you snap out of your inappropriate daydream.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m just a bit spacey today,” you answer, embarrassed, wondering if she caught onto your staring.

“How many hours of sleep have you gotten in the last couple of days, darling?”

“Uhm… in the last three days, I think I got about ten hours combined.”

“You really should take better care of yourself.”

“I know, but there’s just so much work to be done,” you sigh. “Is it supposed to be this hard to get your PhD?”

Professor Weems chuckles (the loveliest sound). “I’m sorry to inform you that it is — at least if you want to do it properly.”

“How was it for you? When you were getting your PhD, I mean? It’s hard for me to imagine you going around disheveled and sleep deprived. You always look so put together.”

“Ah, darling, it’s one of the perks of reaching a certain age — you can finally afford some of life’s little luxuries, such as sleeping six to eight hours a nigh. However, I absolutely did go around disheveled and sleep deprived. I was living off of caffeine and salted crackers — I was a rather pitiful sight. I’m glad I did it, but I’d never go back.”

“So you’re telling me life is easy in your forties?” you tease.

“I said easier, not easy. I do still get terribly stressed about things. I was rather stressed yesterday, as a matter of fact. I have so many things to do today, and I will be working late again.”

“And what do you do to relieve the stress?” you ask before you can stop yourself. You know very well what she did yesterday to relieve the stress.

“Oh, this and that. Usually I watch something that takes my mind off work.”

(“Porn?” you think.)

“I think we should get going though, darling — lunch break is almost over. Let me just fix my makeup,” she says and pulls her signature red lipstick and a compact mirror out of her bag. She fixes the edges of her lipstick expertly.

“Do you need to fix your lipstick, darling?” she asks, handling you the mirror.

“Oh, I might, actually. Thanks.”

Only when you’re done fixing your makeup and you hand the mirror back to her do you realise she has just watched you put on the same lipstick you used to leave a lip-print on that wildly inappropriate note you slipped under her door. 

You look at her, your stomach twisting with anxiety, searching for any sign of recognition on her face.

Her face is unreadable, but you wonder if she holds eye contact with you a little longer and a little more intensely than usual. You might just be imagining things, though — you are terribly sleep deprived.

“Thank you, darling,” she says, giving you a bright smile. “Shall we?”

The cafeteria door is a bit narrow, so you step back to let her pass first, but she puts a hand on your waist and gently pushes you past her. Your shoulder brushes against her as you do so. Being this close to her makes your heart beat faster and your limbs turn to jelly.

You look up at her (she is so tall). She’s smiling at you. It’s a bright, toothy smile that makes your insides melt and your brain become mush. 

“I will be working late tonight, so if you need any help you know where to find me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

“I can spare an hour for my favourite PhD student.”

“Your only PhD student.”

“You should just accept the compliment, darling.” She squeezes your shoulder and winks. “Good luck with your research. Try to squeeze in an afternoon nap. Ta-ta!”

She turns around and walks in the direction of her office, leaving you standing in front of the cafeteria like an idiot. As she walks away, you stare at way her hips move in the tight skirt pencil skirt she’s wearing. After a couple of seconds, you realise your mouth is open, so you quickly close it before anyone notices you are behaving like a horny teenager. 

You slowly drag yourself to your room. As you sit down and start going through the notes she gave you during lunch, your thoughts keep drifting to her ass in that pencil skirt. You sigh.

This is going to be a long day.

By the time evening comes, you are nowhere near finished with the chapter that was giving you grief yesterday. You know what needs to be done and you have finally found the right source to support your argument, but you have a hard time concentrating, and that makes you work in an excruciatingly slow manner. Your thoughts are scattered and you keep thinking about the deadline that looms over your head. Stress and sleep deprivation are truly starting getting to you (it also doesn’t help that your thoughts keeps drifting to Professor Weems and her tight pencil skirt). You wonder if you should take a quick power nap, but you are so caffeinated and anxious you doubt you could sleep if you tried, despite being exhausted, so you continue to push through.

It’s around 9pm that you hear a knock on your door. Before you can react in any way, the door opens and Professor Weems is standing in your room.

“I hope I’m not bothering you, darling. I just wanted to check how you’re doing before I retire for the evening.”

“Not so well, I’m afraid. I am nowhere near done with this chapter. I know what I need to do, it’s just that it’s going so painfully slowly.” You bury your head into your hands and let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry I’m being so whiny about this. I am just so stressed.”

Professor Weems approaches your desk and sits on it. Her thigh is just next to your head. You look up at her.

“Darling, you are working yourself too hard. I would tell you if I thought you are terribly behind with your research, but I honestly think you’ll make it. Don’t forget, I have to sign my name on your work — I would never lie to you about your progress to make you feel better — so trust me when I say you should let this go for tonight and come back to it when you’re less sleep-deprived.”

“But—”

“No buts. Come on, I am taking you out for a glass of wine. You should relax. It’s painful to watch you like this.”

You would never decline a glass of wine with Professor Weems, so before you know it you are sitting in that bar near campus having a glass of red wine (that turns into two and then into three glasses). The alcohol is getting to you, since you haven’t eaten that much today — you feel warm and fuzzy and slightly drunk.

Professor Weems seems to be getting tipsy as well, because she is getting very touchy with you again. She laughs at your stupid jokes (her laughter is one of your favourite things about her — loud and unabashed and melodious) and touches your shoulder often, sometimes letting her hand linger way longer than necessary. At some point in the evening her leg touches your own underneath the table.

She doesn’t move it, nor does she apologise. 

“You were right, Professor Weems, I did need this,” you say. “I’ve been feeling really out of it for the last couple of days.”

“Oh, I told you already, call me Larissa, darling. Professor Weems is so formal.”

“Are you big on formalities, Larissa?” you ask. You decide to try and push your luck — your confidence is not that high, but you are not an idiot. You are pretty certain she is flirting with you, unless you are completely delusional because of sleep deprivation. 

“Usually yes, but as you’ve probably already concluded by my taste in literature, I do think life would be terribly boring without letting the irrational, passionate streak in us win sometimes. As is the case in many literary classics — the plot simply couldn’t move forward without one of the characters disregarding propriety and doing something reckless and passionate.”

“I agree. I often wish I had the courage to do something like that in real life — my life would be so much more interesting.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, darling. I do think you have what it takes.” She gives you a big, bright smile. “Oh, wait a second, darling, your lipstick is smudged. Here, let me.”

She leans forward and takes your chin in her hand, then brushes along the corner of your lip with her thumb. Her touch sends a shiver down your spine and makes your entire body hot with desire.

“That’s a lovely colour, darling. Coral suits you very well.”

She knows. She must know. 

She leans back into her seat. You decide to be bold.

“You know, I am still feeling a little bit tense. You said you like to watch something to relax — but I prefer more physical ways of relaxation. Do you have anything to recommend in that area?”

“Do give me an example, darling, what do you do to relax that’s physical?”

“Oh, I’m afraid what I do wouldn’t be appropriate to engage in at my workplace.”

There is a definite red tinge to Larissa’s cheeks.

“What’s life without a little excitement?”

“Very boring, I suppose.”

For a couple of seconds, there is silence. You are looking at each other, both of your cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol. The tension in the air is thick and heavy.

The next thing she says takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect her to be that forward.

“Tell me, darling, did it turn you on when you heard me yesterday?”

“I—” you open and close your mouth like a fish. You can’t believe the words that just came out of her mouth — to hear her say something like that is something straight out of a wet dream, something that would only happen in your wildest fantasies. 

“I usually do it to relax — it’s a purely physical thing, but lately I have found myself thinking about you,” she continues. “Tell me, do you think of mewhen you touch yourself?”

You look her straight in the eye. “Yes, I do.”

You look at each other for a moment. Desire lingers in the air. She is first to break the silence. 

“Before this escalates any further, I want you to know that the last thing I’d want is to put you in a difficult situation or make you feel like you are obligated to do something. If you don’t want this, just say the word and we shall never mention it again.” 

She pauses. She seems nervous — you’ve never seen her nervous before.

“And please know that whatever you decide, it will not affect your thesis in any way. I would hate for you to be under the impression that this is transactional. I am genuinely interested in pursuing something beyond friendship with you, but I am ready to put that aside and prioritise our professional relationship if that is what you want.”

Your heart breaks as you decide to do the right thing.

“Maybe we should wait until I finish my thesis, and then… continue with this,” you say. “As much as I’d like to, it really wouldn’t be professional of us.”

“Of course. That would probably be best.”

She moves her leg under the table so that it’s no longer touching yours —- you can’t help but feel disappointed. There is a moment of awkward silence. She clears her throat. “We should probably go then, not let this escalate any further.”

“Yes,” you agree. “Let’s go.”

The walk to campus is silent and awkward. 

“It’s rather late,” you say. “I do hope buses still drive. The night lines are scarce in this part of town.”

“Oh, I can drive you home, if you want,” she says quickly. “I didn’t offer because I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I mean, if you want to. We will have to spend time a lot of time together until I finish my thesis, we might as well practice not being awkward around each other. Not that I wasn’t awkward before,” you say, attempting to lighten the mood. “You always made me nervous.”

She chuckles and the air seems less heavy. “I didn’t know I was so scary.”

“You’re not,” you say, but you don’t elaborate further (what you want to say is you look like a movie star, you are intelligent and absolutely brilliant and I am nervous because I have a huge crush on you — but that would be inappropriate given the circumstances).

The drive to your apartment is silent. The tension that built in the bar didn’t dissipate into thin air when you decided not to act on it — instead it intensified — it lingers around, hot and heavy, clouding your judgement, making you sweat even though it’s a chilly night.

She parks in a free spot just in front of your apartment building.

“I’m sorry, I acted very unprofessionally,” she starts. “As your mentor, I should have ignored your advances, but instead I flirted with you and encouraged you.”

Her red lips move in the most delicious way as she speaks, and you find yourself staring again. You remember the sound of her moans. It’s difficult to think about anything else.

“I feel terribly ashamed. I promise I will maintain a strictly professional demeanour from now o—”

You pull her into a bruising kiss. She squeaks (you find that adorable).

Pushing you away, she tries to be reasonable. “We shouldn’t,” she says.

“What’s life without a little excitement? What a novel without the protagonist disregarding propriety and pushing the plot forward?”

“I—”

“Please, Larissa, I believe you when you say my thesis won’t be affected. We are both adults. We want this. Tell me, do you want me?”

She looks at you. Desire dances in her eyes.

“Yes.”

That is all you need. 

You kiss her again, then climb over to her seat, somehow managing to straddle her lap. She abruptly pushes the car seat backwards to give you more room — you gasp in surprise and she swallows your gasp with a hungry kiss.

The way she kisses you is passionate, ravenous, desperate. You grind against each other, your hands are everywhere, and her skirt is already bunched up around her hips (the sight of her soft, white thighs in garters drives you crazy). It’s hot, it’s dirty, and it’s not something you thought a put together woman like herself would ever be caught dead doing.

“I never imagined you’d enjoy a dirty car fuck, Larissa,” you whisper into her ear as she kisses your neck. She bites it and you gasp. 

“And I never imagined you’d be such a naughty slut, grinding your pussy against my thigh, but here we are.” 

She makes even something that cheap and filthy sound delicious. It shouldn’t turn you on so much, but it does.

“Say that again,” you breathe out, continuing to grind against her thigh.

“You like it when mommy calls you a dirty slut, hm?” 

She grabs your hair with one hand and slides the other one down into your trousers, feeling your drenched underwear. 

“Mmm, fuck,” is the only thing you can say.

“So wet and needy for me already, darling?” she coos at you. “Tell me, did you imagine me doing this to you as you touch yourself, hm? Fucking you with my fingers, fast and hard, like a common whore?”

She slides her hand inside your underwear and pushes a finger into you, then, when she feels how wet you are, two. You whimper. She curls them and you cry out. “Say I’m mommy’s little whore. I want to hear it.”

“I— I’m mommy’s little whore, fuck—”

She starts fucking you, fast and hard, and there are no coherent thoughts left in your mind. She is grunting and groaning with you — it make you delirious with desire. You want to make her moan like she did last night.

You somehow manage to pull yourself together enough to bury your own hand between her soft thighs and feel her wetness. She moans as you circle her clit and her fingers lose their rhythm for a second, which allows you to put together a coherent sentence.

“Like that, mommy?” you breathe out. “Did you imagine this when you touched yourself yesterday?”

“Yes,” she whines, “please, don’t stop.”

You have no intention of stopping. You continue to circle her clit even as she starts to fuck you harder. Her moans are obscene and loud and for a second you remember that any passerby could see you, and probably hear you, but you don’t care. If anything, that turns you on even more.

What sends you over the edge is her orgasm. Her body tenses up, her moans become hoarser and strangled, and a combination of swearwords and moans mixed with your name leave her lips as she tips over the edge of ecstasy. It’s the most erotic thing you have ever witnessed. She tries to fuck you through her own orgasm, but she doesn’t manage to keep the relentless, steady pace she had set before. It doesn’t matter — you grind on her hand and cry out as you ride out intense waves of pleasure that make your limbs tingle.

She gently pulls her fingers out of you. You stay still for a while, wrapped around each other, breathing heavily, your faces buried in each other’s necks. 

“Fuck, that was hot,” you say after a while.

She nods against your shoulder. “It was.”

“Wanna do that again sometime… mommy?” you pull away, looking at her with a shit-eating grin plastered on your face.

“If you call me that any time we aren’t fucking, I will end you.”

You laugh, and after a second she laughs as well. 

She is so pretty when she smiles — you love how those little lines around her eyes become more prominent.

“I should probably go, though. We are in the middle of the street and it’s like, 3am,” you say.

“Yes, you probably should.”

Before you go exit the car, you kiss goodnight. It’s the sweet and soft — it makes your heart flutter.

“Good night, darling,” she whispers as you get out of the car.

“Good night, Larissa,” you whisper as you watch her drive away.

As you brush your teeth, take a quick shower and get cozy in your bed, the only thing you can think about is Larissa. When you fall asleep, you dream of her sweet kisses. 

When you wake up in the morning, you feel well-rested for the first time in weeks.

[piratefishmama]

Crossing the line | Part 8

“What do I wear, what do I wear, ROBIN WHAT DO I WEAR?! Do I wear this? Or—or this? He said he—”

“Steven Marlon Harrington if you do not put that sweater vest down this INSTANT I will burn it. I’ll open the window—”

“You can’t open the window it doesn’t open this high up, and that’s not my middle name.”

“I will BREAK open the window and set that highly flammable offense to the eyes on fire then throw it out of said window. Put it down.”

“But he said he liked the idea of the sweater vest! He got all ‘oh nooo’ when I said I wasn’t going to wear it!”

“You keep your kinky shit out of my first metal gig experience, Steven, you keep it far away from my metal gig experience.”

“You didn’t even want to GO! How is it KINKY?”

It was Tuesday, specifically 7:49pm Tuesday evening.

After their magical first meeting in that coffee shop, Steve had promised, hand on heart, that he wouldn’t go back to the coffee shop before the gig. Something that Steve had balked at because he wanted an authentic coffee shop au experience dammit. But Eddie had put his foot down, claimed it’d be unfair.

Eddie wanted him to experience the gig, he wanted him to experience it, experience who Eddie actually was outside of the apron and the indie coffee shop aesthetics because they often softened a lot of the rough edges in people, he wanted this beautiful human with… an admittedly really nice voice shut up, to experience the real him, and then ask him out.

He didn’t get to spend days putting on the charm, making Eddie feel all whirly, only to rip it away at the gig when he realised he didn’t actually like the real Eddie Munson.

Steve didn’t think that was entirely necessary since he’d gotten a verbal beat down for an entire week from the guy, but he’d wasted zero time in purchasing those tickets anyway. Maybe he was pathetically down bad for a little wet cat, Steve would own it.

Eddie was an incredibly attractive little wet cat, he wore the wet cat look well.

“Cause he wants to see you in it, it’s gotta be a weird kink thing. Do not bring that energy to my metal gig. I will vomit.”

“What were you actually going to do if I scored with this guy and left us with a twin room at the Conrad? What would you have done?”

“Cried myself to sleep in the bathtub wearing earplugs. Maybe I’d have had a dish of chocolate covered strawberries in there with me, I dunno.”

“You’re so weird.” The words said with such fondness that she couldn’t help but turn her head toward her brother from another mother, her Sistah from another mistah, her twin separated at birth, and grin at him, all teeth and scrunched nose.

They were getting ready in the same room, no awkwardness, no weird vibes, they’d accidentally showered together before, shared a bubble bath in Steve’s ridiculous jet tub back at his apartment, their level of platonic soulmate was so far unmatched.

“You love me.” He did. He really really did. “Okay, okay, put that down. Maybe you can save the sweater vest for like… a date or something. Maybe the dinner you wanted to take him out on. Let’s see what we have here” She rounded the bed in naught but a cut off band tee crop top and a pair of fishnets over her underwear, having been doing her makeup before donning the ripped black pair of shorts she’d thrifted because there didn’t have to be a right order to do things in. “Right… this is a metal gig, and from what we know of Corroded Coffin, it’s not like… glam metal, we don’t need anything flashy, shit’s thrash metal, so like… ripped denim, belt chains, leather jackets, band Tees, guys don’t have to dress up for this shit. Pretty sure your wet rat will be wearing a dumb band tee and ripped jeans. The only thing you have to worry about, is overheating.”

“Overheating?” Gosh he was so unprepared, how was she more prepared for this? Hyper fixation maybe.

“Yeah, why do you think I’m wearing shorts, you’ll be sweating bullets in there, it’s a dive bar, Steve it’s not The Garden. It’s not open air, it’s dingy, the floor will be sticky, the alcohol will be trash, and there’ll be a mosh pit, it’s not going to be pretty. Have you got your plugs?”

Steve lifted a tiny metal tube up and wiggled it in his hand “Gottem”

“Good, make sure you put those in before the music starts, they’ll filter some of the harsher sounds, keep your migraines at bay.” Concussions did damage, and he’d had a few. Not just The Hemsworth Incident™️, he’d partied hard as a teen, lost a few fights, okay, he’d lost most fights.

Brain damage was a real issue with concussions apparently!

Migraines happened, he had little earplugs that didn’t block all noise, just filtered it a little to reduce the impact on his eardrums so he could still enjoy things. Sometimes they helped, sometimes they didn't, it wasnt perfect.

“Okay so… what should I wear? I can’t just wear the plugs, Robin, I know I’m trying to like… pull, but naked celebrity in a dive bar sounds a bit dangerous.”

“Alright smartass, those jeans, that band tee, skip the jacket, you’ll just wind up dying from heatstroke. Actually, gimmie that shirt.” Robin snagged the tee out of Steve’s hands as he held it up she took it over to the dresser where she’d left a little sewing kit she’d also picked up during their thrift shopping, grabbed the scissors and went to town on the damn thing. “You’re gonna sweat, so— accept that he’s gonna see you all gross and sweaty.”

“Nghhhh but—" He wanted to be flawless dammit! Turn on his charm. He couldn’t do that while sweaty and gross!!

“It’s fine, he’ll be all gross and sweaty too. Maybe he’ll even like the gross sweaty look, who knows, he seems like a weird ‘I like sweaty, hairy men’ kinda guy.”

“I thought you said he seemed like a 'moms’ basement dwelling virgin' kind of guy.”

“He’s a weird, wet scraggly cat with layers. He also seems like a ‘clap if you believe’ kind of guy too, but I can’t judge him on that cause—” and she clapped, he let out a brief snort of a laugh. “Okay, here” she threw the remnants of the shirt at him, now transformed into a sleeveless muscle tee, the sides cut to shit to reveal the expanse of mole-dotted golden tanned skin and soft muscle of his sides, the graphic on the front looking like a red hand holding a mallet of some kind, the name of the band too faded to make out. “Wear that, the ripped jeans, and those combat boots.”

“…Just this?”

“Yes, I’ll finish it off with some kohl after I’m done, okay?” Steve raised a single brow at her, but he didn’t argue. He’d long since given up arguing with Robin about how eyeliner made his eyes ‘pop’, it… actually did, so he’d accept it. So when she finally finished dressing and accessorising herself, she completed his look for him too, mussing his hair a little in a way that only she was allowed to do, a little smudged eyeliner, a brush of mascara, and he was good to go.

“Well?” Steve asked, standing straight for Robin’s assessing gaze.

She smiled, like a shark sensing blood in the water, she was pleased with her work. “Oh Stevie Stevie Stevie, trust me, he’s not gonna know what hit him.”

God he hoped she was right.

Part 10

[lsk3nn3dys]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟕: 𝐘𝐮𝐣𝐢 𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 + 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞

Yuji Itadori x f!reader

Word Count: 2.3k (longer than expected again hehe)

Warnings: Halloween party, drinking, but it's legal, everyone is 21+, modern au, reader wears a sexy nurse costume (I'm sorry), yuji wears a sexy firefighter costume, yuji is the softest of soft doms!!, slightly drunk sex, make-outs, pet names (pretty girl, baby,), cunnilingus, vaginal sex, lowkey some body worship, multiple orgasms, creampies, you and yuji kinda get caught, and finger sucking kinda

“Do you think Yuji will notice me in this?” you ask while holding up the short skirt that clings around your thighs.

“Are you kidding?” Nobara gasps. “He would be an idiot if he didn’t! You look so sexy, so he better, right, Maki?”

“Hmm?” Maki flicks her eyes toward you and looks over your costume. “Yeah, he’d be an idiot.”

“See? Even Maki agrees, so you should be fine,” Nobara reassures you by patting your shoulder.

You’re currently getting ready with Nobara and her girlfriend, Maki, at her dorm, for a Halloween party that your other friends are having at their apartment. Your crush Yuji Itadori will even be there. The guy you’ve liked since your first year at college, but you’ve only ever been “just friends.” Tonight at the party you hope to change that. So, you and Nobara decided that you should wear something that’ll get his attention. A sexy nurse costume. You know how cliché and dumb that is, but you really want to get Yuji’s attention.

“Yeah, I hope,” you say.

“Besides, if you feel embarrassed, we’ll just blow the party and get some food and make it a girls’ night,” Nobara says.

“Thanks, Nobara, that sounds perfect,” you say.

“I know, right?” she agrees, and you and Maki can’t help but laugh.

When you and the girls arrive at Yuta and Inumaki’s apartment, it’s decked out in fun decorations, with Inumaki and Yuta greeting the three of you at the door. You notice that Inumaki’s dressed as Feitan, and Yuta is dressed as Spider-Man.

“Hey guys,” Yuta greets. “Thanks for coming!” Inumaki hums in glee.

“Thanks for having us!” Nobara cheers.

“The alcohol is in the kitchen,” Yuta explains.

“Great! Thanks, boys,” Nobara says and grabs you and Maki and runs to the kitchen. “Come on! Time for some shots!”

Nobara grabs the first shot glass she sees and pours some vodka into the glass. You and Maki follow soon after her. You all do a cheer clinking your shots and taking them. You and Nobara both wince from the taste, while Maki doesn’t react.

The three of you go back to Yuta and Inumaki.

“So, when are Yuji and Megumi getting here?” Nobara asks, primarily for your sake.

“Oh, they should be here soon,” Yuta says. “Yuji just texted that they’re on their way.”

“Perfect,” Nobara says. “You guys look amazing, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you,” Yuta says, and Inumaki gives Nobara a small smile. “We worked all day.” Then, Inumaki points to the three of you. “Oh! Right, Inumaki! You girls look great too.”

“Aw, you flatter us,” Nobara jokes. Everyone laughs.

A few minutes later, Yuji and Megumi walk through the apartment door.

“Hey, guys!” Yuji greets. “Megumi and I are here!”

“Hey!” Nobara shouts as everyone cheers for their arrival. You take a moment to admire Yuji’s costume. He’s dressed as a firefighter, but the big jacket he’s wearing is about showing his broad, beautiful, muscled chest. Man, you wish that chest was on top of you.

“So, Megumi, what are you supposed to be?” Nobara points out that Megumi is wearing just black jeans and a black shirt.

“I’m a shadow,” he simply says.

“Seriously, Megumi?” Maki asks. “That’s the dumbest costume I’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t really care; at least I’m wearing a costume,” he says.

“I was the one who told you, you needed a costume,” Yuji explains.

“Whatever,” Megumi rolls his eyes. Then, Megumi, Maki, and Nobara all go to the kitchen, leaving you and Yuji in the living room.

“I really like your costume, Yuji,” you say.

“Thanks, yeah, I dressed up for the job I want,” he chuckles.

“Oh, I wish I did that,” you look at your own costume.

“Are you kidding? I think you look great,” he compliments. You feel your face heat up.

“Thank you,” you say.

“Are you gonna go into the kitchen for some alcohol?” Yuji asks you.

“Oh, yeah, do you wanna come?” you ask.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he gives you his signature handsome smile.

You both head to the kitchen, where everyone else is drinking their mixed drinks. You all stand together chatting and drinking, just ordinary party things, until…

“Guys! I have an idea for something fun!” Nobara announces.

“What?” Yuta asks.

“We should play truth or dare,” she says.

“Truth or dare?” Maki asks, amused.

“Yeah, what are we? Middle schoolers?” Megumi asks.

“Come on; it’ll be fun!” Nobara promises. “Right, Y/N?” She looks at you as if she’s planning something for you particularly.

“Uh, yeah,” you agree.

“Perfect!” Nobara says. “I think I’ll–”

“Oh!” Yuji speaks up. “You should ask Megumi first.”

“What?!” Megumi shouts.

“Yeah, you should ask Megumi first,” Maki agrees. Nobara’s eyes flicker to you as if she’s apologizing to you.

“Alright, Megumi, truth or dare?” Nobara asks. Megumi sighs.

“Whatever, truth,” Megumi answers.

“Oh, truth, huh?” Nobara chuckles. Megumi gives her a death glare. “Has anyone ever caught you masturbating before?” Everyone looks to Megumi, waiting for his answer. Megumi’s face puffs into a red tomato.

“Yeah,” Megumi says.

“Really? How? Who was it?” Nobara asks. Megumi doesn’t look anyone in the eye.

“Gojo caught me one time when he didn’t knock on my door,” Megumi mutters. Everyone’s jaws drop.

“Holy shit,” Yuji says.

“At least Gojo knocks on my door every time now,” Megumi says.

“Alright, well, uh, Megumi, it’s your turn to ask someone,” Nobara tells him.

“Ugh, fine. Maki, truth or dare?” Megumi asks. Maki chuckles.

“Gimme a dare,” she says.

“Alright, I dare you to call Panda right now,” Megumi challenges.

“Huh?” Maki asks. “Are you serious?”

“Isn’t Panda in office hours right now?” you ask.

“Yeah, I think he has to help a first-year with their midterm or something,” Yuta explains.

“Yeah, do it. Unless you’re scared,” Megumi says.

“Pfft. I am not scared. I’ll do it right now,” Maki says. So, she calls up Panda, who was in office hours. He’s not particularly happy that he’s getting called while he’s trying to do his job. He gives you all a lecture about the whole thing. The call didn’t even seem worth the joke, but Megumi was chipper the entire call, quietly laughing as Maki got an earful.

The game continues, and you seem to be left out. You’re not the center of the game, which you didn’t mind. As you watch everyone else perform their tasks, Nobara takes the opportunity to express her plan for your turn. This plan being seven minutes in heaven with Yuji. You initially feel shy about it, but since you’re pretty tipsy, the idea doesn’t sound so bad.

When it finally gets to be your turn, you follow Nobara’s lead and take the dare. Just like she promised, she sends you off with Yuji. The two of you are locked inside Yuta’s room, where you will be for the next seven minutes.

“So, I guess we’ll be in here for a while,” Yuji jokes.

“I guess so,” you chuckle along with him.

The two of you sit silently on Yuta’s bed for a bit while you search for a way to handle this situation. This is the exact moment you feel a shot that you had moments before hit you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yuji says.

“Hmm?” you hum. He takes the opportunity to take your chin into his fingers. The action makes your eyes widen. He chuckles.

“You look really beautiful tonight,” he says. “And sexy, too.”

“Uh, thank you,” your mind swims. He brings your face closer to his and kisses you. It’s sweet and tastes like bitter alcohol. You feel him trail his tongue on your lower lip, asking for entrance. You gladly give it to him, and he wastes no more time. He moves his hands to lift you and place you on his lap. Your cunt brushes up against his growing erection. You moan into Yuji’s mouth when you feel it, making him smile.

He moves his lips to your neck while your hands rest in his pink hair. He leaves your neck peppered in soft kisses and soft bites. He notices that your costume has a front zipper, lucky for him. He looks back at you before doing anything with it.

“Can I take it off?” he asks. You nod your head; you’re touched that he’s so considerate. He slowly unzips the outfit and unzips the entire costume off of you. He’s delighted to see you only wearing panties underneath. He wastes no time in putting his tongue on one of your nipples. You moan out and arch your back toward his mouth. As he’s sucking, you begin to strip him of his costume jacket. He unlatches from your nipple and finishes removing his coat for you, and throws it on the floor. He looks into your eyes as he speaks again.

“Lay on the bed, pretty girl,” he prompts. You do as he requests and move off his lap and lay on the bed. He moves off the bed and brings you close to him by pulling your thighs. He kneels done at the bed’s edge right at your cunt. “Wow, you’re already this wet from making out? That’s so sexy, baby.” He carefully removes your panties and places your thighs on his shoulders. He licks at your folds, looking directly at you. He smiles as he sees you becoming a moaning mess under his touch.

You throw your head back against the mattress as Yuji’s tongue explores your pussy.

“Ah! Mm! Yuji!” you shout. His tongue moves in and out of your cunt, and he occasionally tongues your clit. You move your hands to thread in Yuji’s hair pulling him towards your pussy. His nose bumps at your clit with each pull you have. You ride his face as you feel your abdomen begin to coil. Your cunt’s walls squeeze around Yuji’s tongue. You scream out Yuji’s name as you cum on his tongue. He laps up all your juices before rising and joining you on the bed, hovering above you.

Yuji leans down and kisses you. You taste your orgasm on his lips and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He breaks the kiss to say something.

“I want to fuck you,” he says.

“Please, please fuck me, Yuji,” you beg. He raises himself again and gets off the bed as he unbuckles his belt and swiftly removes his pants and boxers. His cock springs up, and it’s nice and big. You can’t wait for it to fill you up. He climbs back on the bed and hovers above you just like before. He places his hands on your thighs and moves them apart. He takes his cock and rubs it on your fold, collecting your orgasm on his cock. You whimper at the feeling of his cock moving in your folds.

“Are you ready?” Yuji asks.

“Yes, please, I’m ready,” you say.

He thrusts his cock into you and completely bottoms out. Yuji groans at the feeling while you moan out. He holds your thighs, and you clutch the sheets under you. He begins a fast pace, and his cock hits your sweet spot with every thrust. Your eyes start to roll back, and you throw your head back. Yuji keeps a stronghold on your thighs as he fucks himself into you.

“Fuck,” he curses. “You feel so fucking good.” He continues railing into you as you feel another orgasm coming. His balls slap against your ass, and the sound carries throughout the room but not being drowned out by your cries.

“Yuji!” you shout. “‘M cumming again.”

“Shit, yeah,” he says. “Cum on my cock, pretty girl.” You gush around his cock, and you cream on his cock. Yuji feels you squeeze his cock as you cum. He looks down and admires the white ring that envelops his cock and begins fucking into you harder. You cry out from his cock, hitting at your abused cunt. You feel his cock twitch from within you, and he cums into your pussy, but he doesn’t stop his thrusts. He continues to fuck you.

“Mm! Yuji!” you cry.

“I know, baby, just gonna cum in you one more time,” he promises. He grabs your legs and places them on his shoulders, and reaches deeper into your pussy. He looks down at you and notices how fucked out you truly are. “Shit, you look so sexy.” He watches as your chest heaves as you breathe heavily, your tits bounce from his thrusts, and how your hair clings to your forehead. He listens to your sweet, sweet moans. God, you look so beautiful under him.

His cock begins twitching again after his unrelenting thrusts, and he cums inside you once again. He doesn’t pull out of you but moves your legs to the side and collapses back on the bed above you. You both breathe together, trying to calm yourselves.

“That was amazing,” Yuji says.

“Yeah,” you agree.

“You know, I’d love to buy you dinner or something,” Yuji says, and you laugh.

“I would love that, Yuji,” you stroke his hair.

“Hey! Your minutes are up! Time to–” you and Yuji both look at the door and see Nobara. You all start at each other for a half second before she slams the door. “Sorry! Sorry!” Yuji quickly pulls out of your pussy, and you both hastily get dressed. As you put your costume back on, Yuji’s cum is beginning to fall out of you. Yuji’s hand swipes the cum from your pussy and thighs and stuffs his cum ridden fingers into your mouth.

“Don’t let it go to waste, pretty girl,” he whispers. “Now, come on, we shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.” He extends his hand out to you, and you take it. Then, he leads you out of the room and back to the party.

~^o^~

L+T’s Kinktober

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[helenazbmrskai]

Club Vampire [Request]

Pairing – [Sub!Jeongguk x Reader]

Genre – [Vampire Au, Bar Au, Smut]

Warnings – [brat taming, bondage, cock riding, orgasm denial, blowjob, handjob, grinding, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie, crying kink]

Word Count – [4,5k]

AN.– Thank you for waiting patiently I hope you will enjoy it however it got out of hand I hope you don’t mind I made him a brat. @bloodline1632​

The world is a dangerous place, honey. A general truth that is at the back of every human’s mind from an early age.

It is told that vampires with menacing smiles and pearly white fangs crawl out to the streets at night under the veil of stars and moon. Many stories are shared with body horror elements to deter; drained pretty necks with puncture wounds, their bodies left with a white sheet of sweaty skin and then dumped in alleyways for unsuspecting passersby to be the witnesses.

Only two types of people come out around midnight when it’s the darkest hour of the day: the ones with a biting fetish or dumb little girls seeking an adventure to spite their parents- maybe even the world. What does a chic and neat girl do around the west part of town? At this hour? Your red lips pray to tell.

Jeongguk doesn’t know – your eyes don’t tell – but he seemingly doesn’t care as his eyes flash a dangerous ruby red from your scent wafting through the smoky air. The first thing you do when you enter the dimly lit bar is that you walk to the bartender ignoring your surroundings and ask for a gin tonic. How classic.

It’s not your kind of scene but you’re not out of place. You’re confident and your smile is pretty almost menacing when you thank the guy for the drink he bought. Your first free drink of the night of many.

During the time you wait for your drink to be ready five different people- vampires try to get your attention.

Some are bold enough to initiate conversation despite your confidence that’s oozing from you and some remain to the means of cowardly watching you from afar, waiting for the moment you decide to leave so they could follow and steal a taste. You’re seemingly unaware of the effect you have on them and Jeongguk’s brow furrows. You’re taunting them like a mistress. If he didn’t be wrapped up by your human scent he might mistake you for a vampiress.  

Jeongguk tilts his head to the side with irritation when a man approaches you yet again – he thinks you’re either foolish to realise their intent or you dangerously ignore the looming darkness that asked you out on a deadly dance. Ready to drag you to the depth of hell if you’re not careful enough. You would be a waste – Jeongguk surprisingly thinks.

Rest assured dear spectators, you’re not ignorant nor foolish. You’re here for a reason and that reason just watches you from across the bar.

From the moment you stepped inside with your heels clinking on the wooden floor, he was nursing a glass of 0- blood in the darkest corner. Yes, you know of Jeon Jeongguk even if he doesn’t know of you yet. He has a bad reputation among your people.

It would be hard not to hear the horror stories about him even when the sun is up. Vampires with money and political power are taught to be the most dangerous of them all but Jeongguk even without all of that managed to make a name for himself. An otherworldy womanizer – how fitting. His speciality is to leave bleeding hearts behind his broad back after a satisfactory night. He prefers 0- blood and what a coincidence that you have that. Right?

You don’t care about anyone else even when you look them in the eye and entertain their fantasies for a short minute or two. You don’t look in the mouth of the free drinks you receive. The bartender is also curious about what a nice girl like you is doing here but what you would answer makes the man behind the counter scowl with confusion. Silence follows and your smile grows all the more.

”Hunting.” Your smile is cheeky.

You lift your glass to your lips and take a burning sip without making a face at the taste. The bartender shakes his head in disbelief when another vampire approaches and goes back to tending to his other customers. Although keeps the corner of his eyes reserved for you; curious to see your plan unfold. It’s a slow night with fewer vampires and humans to colour the palette but drinks are swallowed down eagerly by the patrons nonetheless. You prefer smaller crowds anyway.

”Hunting for what?” You school your features before you turn to the velvety voice that you heard to your right. Excitement fills your veins with bubbly rushes of oxygen. Your lovely scent is even stronger standing this close. His black coal eyes seemingly go through you. Fiery and piercing. Assured. You taunt him to try and figure you out before you do but be aware of your intelligent watching eyes as well – on him. Rushing against time. It’s him that seems a little impatient.

You watch him beckon the guy working on the drinks – severing eye contact for split seconds only – to order you and him another glass of what you had. You clearly have his full attention and you plan to bask in it. You lost count of the drinks you consumed but you’re not too worried, you’re still level-headed for what’s yet to come tonight. You wouldn’t jeopardise your chances by getting too drunk to make the calls. Alcohol works differently in a vampire bar as they don’t like the taste of it in humans so you’re not worried. The recipe is altered so it takes a lot to get wasted.

Your smile widens, there’s something in your confidence that baffles the vampire temporarily the curious frown he wears takes ages off his face- painting him angelic. But you know it’s just a wolf wearing sheep’s clothing to be more alluring for the prey.

You take your time looking him over. You’ve been dying to see him up close and now you can shamelessly watch the muscles in his arms move as he gets his drink, see his adam’s apple bob when he swallows it down. Dark curly hair with dark clothes and bright eyes lends him that mysterious aura every woman likes. Including you. „Hunting for what?” his question rings in your head. It’s time. You smile.

”You.” You drain the gin tonic in a single shot after you decided on your answer. Straight to the point. You know you made the right choice of words since Jeongguk looks even more determined to see through your intentions.

You could see the cogs working in his head. Displeased by the loss of his control that he usually gets handed over but too intrigued to leave.

”Oh? Is that so? If you were looking for me why wait till I approach?” His rings click against the glass when he picks it up and gulps it down and then licks the droplets from the corner of his mouth slowly – knowing that you’re looking at him intently – showing you his pink tongue and the tips of his fangs for a teasing appetizer. Similar to how your drink disappeared the bartender soon gave you another glass without having to ask and you both continue drinking.

The night is still young but you know how it will end.

”Because I knew you would. I’m Y/N.” Your smirk is confusing to him. You don’t try to shake his hand. He’s not used to his prey being so confident in their bodies. Usually, they feel ashamed of the fact that they want to take him to bed. Want him to feed on them while he fucks them into the mattress. It’s easy to figure out what they want. But not you. No. You’re different.

”I’m-”

”I know who you are.” You interrupt him with a growing smirk. He doesn’t like that you’ve cut him off but he cools his features before the mask of his feigned confidence and cockiness is back on.

You’re shameless and it stirs something sinister in him, a strong need to have you. You’re a brat. You won’t be easy but he will have you and enjoy it wholeheartedly when you finally give in to the temptation. He’s sure of it.

You could tell from his expression that he thinks he will have the upper hand like always that you’ll be begging him to fuck you. Oh. He’s so wrong. If anyone will beg tonight – it ain’t gonna be you.

”Confident are we?” Jeongguk leans closer waiting for that look of intimidation that usually follows with his closeness (at the last attempts of his tricks to get you wrapped around his sexy fingers) but you’re staring at him blank. It throws him off and that’s when you proceed.

”Confident that by the end of this night you’ll be begging me to let me fuck you.” You lean real close till your natural breath tickles the shell of his ear. The sensuality of the moment creates a bubble around you that you don’t hear the noise of the bar any longer or the loud music. It’s just you and him. You’re whispering next to his ears but everyone heard you loud and clear and they found it funny. Until. Until they see the baffled look on Jeongguk’s face when you walk away.

No one before left the vampire dry and hanging.

Phase one is completed –you muse inside your head. Here comes phase two.

His body moves like you’re pulling his limbs on strings. Follows you into the crowd and slips behind you when you start to dance. Jeongguk glares at everyone that tries to get close or touch you. You’re his for the night.

He doesn’t move to the beat of the music but he’s practically glued to your side as you do. Your warm skin brushes against him with your every move and roll of your hips. You enjoy the song with your eyes closed knowing that Jeongguk keeps an eye on you. He’s almost yours.

Jeongguk has a protective hand over your stomach but doesn’t restrain you or your movements. He doesn’t move either. If you were looking you would see the tightness of his jaw. With his desires, his bloodlust grows exponentially whilst his patience is wearing thinner by the minutes he’s not buried inside of you. He wouldn’t even care to fuck you right this moment surrounded by so many people dancing.

He hisses at every drunk couple that occasionally bumps into you and he pulls you even closer until you’re practically glued to his front. Away from everyone else that tries to distract him from his meal. His ego is bruised by the looks he gets but a part of him cannot make the choice to move away when your closeness means your hip rolls into the growing erection in his pants. He doesn’t want to move when your delicious scent wraps around his senses. Jeongguk sucks in a sudden sharp breath when you grind down on him. Your ass is perfectly rubbing against his clothed cock that grows harder in his jeans with every teasing dance move you do.

”You’re playing with fire Y/N.” His lips are placed against your ear as he whispers - grits the words only for you to hear with no real threat. The deep and dangerous tone makes a shiver run down your spine in excitement. Jeongguk squeezes your hips in warning when you continue but you’re just getting started. His empty promises mean nothing to you at this point.

”You’re the one who likes to play with their food. I’m different though. All you have to do is tell me the magic words- and I’ll make it happen.”

You snake a hand behind his neck scratching his scalp lightly before seamlessly pushing his nose into the juncture of your neck. Turn your head a little to the side to have the veins make an outline to make it more inviting. Your smell surrounds him and he nearly goes insane from the fragrance of you in the air. Your closeness is maddening. He doesn’t remember a time he was standing this close to someone and he wasn’t fucking her. The desire he has for your body is almost boiling over. You’re playing a dangerous game poking the bear but even if he tears you apart you’re sure he could put you back together in the end.

His hands on your hips tighten to a painful grip but you only push him deeper into you. Until nothing for him exists just you and your sweet smell of blood. It’s a dangerous and bold move that has your heart racing when Jeongguk inhales sharply. He could easily bite you here and suck you dry but he won’t. Even though his fangs are itching to sink into your main arteries and tear you apart like an animal. Instead, he growls into your skin and kisses down the producing veins. Listen to your ragged breaths and calm sighs.

Jeongguk never teases himself if he can help it. Everything he wants he gets it. Whatever and whenever he wants it but not with you. No. He’ll have to let you tease him. You’ve been doing it since you stepped through the door and you continue doing it with your bottom half pushing back on him, rubbing his cock with your plump ass until he reaches full hardness.

You know you won when he lets out a barely audible whimper it only takes a bit of pressure – it’s unlike any of the sounds he usually makes and if he could he would be blushing by now. He bites his lips until it draws his own blood to keep his voice steady no more whining and whimpering. A man doesn’t whimper even if it feels good. He doesn’t want you to stop either but you do.

You turn around in his hold and silence his protests with a kiss. His hands move to grab your ass and get back some of the friction between your bodies. Your kisses are too heated to be acceptable in public but it’s a bar frequented by vampires and everybody enjoys a little show of the cocky Jeon Jeongguk getting visibly submissive for a human girl who happens to know what buttons to push. He lets her do the push and pull but judging by the surrounding silence you think it’s time to take this to another place – move this into more private settings. The show is over.

He devours your mouth to the way of your apartment. So focused on you that he didn’t see the weird looks people cast on the two of you when you of all people dragged away the Jeon Jeongguk hand in hand.

Your dark home doesn’t pose a challenge to his excellent sight he could back you up against your bedroom door with ease and you let him be in a false sense that he’s controlling the situation. Using the element of surprise you’re able to change your position and have you hover over his body and mouth without touching turning the knob and letting yourselves in.

He’s leaning closer and closer to steal your kisses but you back away until his legs are bumping into the bedframe. You push his shoulders down until he sits. He’s stronger than you but he’s so occupied enjoying your kisses that he doesn’t even think about outpowering you. His head is foggy from the desire.

You take your place on his lap and enjoy the way he grabs your ass and moves your body to rub your cores together. You kiss up from his neck and leave your mark all over until you hear those high-pitched sounds that he’s so embarrassed to let out even when alone in the darkness of your room.

The vampire is dazed when you suddenly stand up. He’s panting like a dog. You walk over to your dresser to grab something and Jeongguk watches you retrieve a special rope that could restrain him. Hunting. Your words start to make sense in his head but in too deep now to quit.

”No.” Unfortunately, his head clears now that he’s not constantly under the influence of your touches. This might pose a challenge.

”You’re in my territory vampire. Do as I say or you could just leave.” It’s risky to make him choose but you need to be firm. Dominance is all about what you think you can do and if the other person doesn’t realise it’s him who gives up the power you gain – then – that’s when you become the most powerful.

”What are you planning to do with that?” You can tell he’s in turmoil with his own thoughts. He’s too invested to leave- but not used to handing over the reins. You would be nervous too.

Your smile is angelic but your actions are pure lust. You push the rope against his neck barely touching the skin when you lower it down, caressing his neck and then his producing collarbones with the rough material. Jeongguk watches you with dangerous eyes as you help him unbutton his shirt and drag the rope lower until you reach the line of his underwear. Puffs of his breath hit your face from the closeness but you’re not giving him the satisfaction of claiming your lips.

”A woman always has to be careful. What if you bite me when I’m unprepared?” You present your neck cheekily wrapping the rope around your neck like a scarf before you take a seat on the vampire’s lap.

Your hands caress the exposed skin of his chest teasingly rolling over his nipples that make him yelp in surprise. You let out a good-natured laugh at his cuteness. His hands hold your waist tighter when your touches tickle. He’s still not convinced that’s all you want with the rope.

”I promise I won’t.” Jeongguk nuzzles his face between your breasts. You’re so warm he can hear the blood rushing through your veins. It makes him feel alive too. Your scent is driving him mad each second that he spends not having you.

”You promised the other girls that you’ll call them when you sent them away. Why should I believe your lies?” You pull away with a frown. The way he lied shouldn’t sting, it shouldn’t matter because you know his nature so, why? Why is that his lie managed to hurt your feelings? You slip your tongue into his mouth as you kiss him with relentless anger. His gasp lets you access him easily. Surprised how fired up you got he couldn’t even say anything to calm you down as you right out devoured and took over his mouth. All he could do is kiss you back hotly letting your tongues fight for dominance until you had to come up for air.

You’re able to get him distracted with your urgent kisses that his brain completely short-circuited only to realise it too late that his hands are bound behind his back. Jeongguk growls when he tries to free himself but is unable to.

”Release me.” He bares his teeth threateningly but you’re not phased by the anger in his gaze and your smile only grows exponentially. Your hands run through the length of his thighs you feel how his muscles tense under your touches until you hook a finger into the waistband of his pants and jank it down his legs.

”How about no.” You grin like the devil incarnate whilst your fingers tease his hardness through the material of his briefs. His cock jumps at the touch but his face is still showing a mean frown stubbornly biting back the sounds your movements ignite.

”You can let go. I’m not going to hurt you Gukkie. It’s going to be our little secret so by all means, don’t hold back your sounds.” Jeongguk fights against the urge to close his eyes in bliss when you pull the last layer off his body. His cock is resting heavily against his stomach, the tip is flushed and glistening in the dim lights. Your fingertips are barely grazing the underside of his shaft his length jerks at the touch of your teasing fingers. You look up to see the desperation in his expression but too stubborn to beg.

”Don’t forget. All you have to do is ask.” Your lips press against the tip as you talk touching the sensitive skin with every word but not quite how he wants it. You lick them clean from the precum that got smeared on them and you moan at the taste of him.

Getting greedy you suck on it gently rolling your tongue over the flushed skin that has his hips jerk and buck into you forcing your mouth to wrap around more of his cock. You hum around it in surprise your eyes close for only a minute to enjoy the stretch of your jaw to accommodate half of his length before you swallow around him.

The first sounds come fumbling out of his mouth when you withdraw your sweet torture. Half of his cock is coated with your saliva, slick and the tip oozing more precum that you could lick up. It stains your fingers when you wrap them around him.

”-Ah, never. I’ll never do it.” You take him down your throat before he could finish his words and you hum in response adding to his torture and his head involuntarily tilts back in a loud moan. His fingers would be in your hair if he could move to force your head further down his shaft but he’s not the one in control and you pull back without a problem.

”Too bad, I guess you don’t want to cum enough.” You stroke his cock pulling back the foreskin before you kiss the tip teasingly. His hips move to fuck into your fist but you slow down, even more, he tries to pick up speed with his frantic movements. Unshed tears sting in his eyes the longer you prolong his high, not letting him tip over the edge.

You take him into your mouth carefully tonguing at the underside of his cock before you pay attention to his swollen tip coming up his length collecting his precum with a swivel of your tongue. You can feel him throb between your lips. Sweat rolls down his temple trying to chase your soft caresses but in vain as you pull away each time you could almost taste his release in your mouth. His resolve is already weakened. It won’t take long before he gives up.

”No, no, no! Don’t stop.” Jeongguk growls and trashes against his binds when you deny him yet another orgasm.

”Say please.” You lick the precum off your lips kissing down his tense stomach leaving your marks everywhere on his body. Smiling into his skin when he shivers from your nails raking down his thighs. Now, this is how you like it.

”No.” He shakes his head. Jeongguk’s eyes are a dangerous shade of red when you look up, those beautiful eyes with tears running down his cheeks he looks ethereal. You almost take pity. Almost.

”No? What a shame. I would have let you cum inside my pussy but I guess you’re not interested.” You take off your panties and jeans, watch his pupils dilate when your aroma fills the room the scent of your arousal is thick in the air as you part your slick folds with your fingers for show. He has a great view of your pussy and he sees two of your fingers disappear in your hole that forces an animalistic growl from his throat.

”Want you to sit on my dick.” No please huh?

”Fine.” Jeongguk looks at you with surprise in his round eyes. Barely have time to be suspicious of how easily you agreed. He didn’t think you would just do as he says and some of his cockyness is back as you rub yourself over his cock but your smile promise something else. There’s mischief in your eyes as you lower yourself on him. Slowly filling your pussy with his thick length until you’re completely seated.

Usually, he’s better than that but you’re hugging him so tight and your walls are so warm and pulsing around him that he could cum just from all the sensation finally granted after you edged him a couple of times with your mouth and fingers.

His eyes are focused on the producing veins on your neck. His body feels like it's on fire with you moving on top of him, so close but so out of reach. His hands are still tied behind his back while you ride him.

You slow down that seems to be the last drop before the glass overfilled. His eyes continued to shed beautiful tears so you kiss his cheek lovingly.

”Can I bite, please? Just one bite.” He looks desperate as his gaze is zeroed down on your neckline and his eyes are fogged up that you’re almost certain he doesn’t even realise he said please for the first time.

”Of course. You asked so nicely. Good job.” You run your fingers through his hair guiding his head to your neck so he could bite you.

He doesn’t waste time he already got a favourite spot on your skin to sink his fangs into and he does it without hesitance. His fangs pierce through your skin like paper and your blood spills into his mouth in an instant. Getting drunk on your taste as you sit with his cock deeply nestled inside of you.

You play with his hair while he drinks you could feel your pulse throb in the rhythm of his hungry gulps but you pull his head back before he could take too much from you. His lips, chin and collarbones are red from your blood but you’re not repulsed to kiss him and taste the iron on your tongue. You start moving again with the intent of cumming and he helps you with thrusting up meeting you in the middle.

Jeongguk buries his face into your neck moaning into your skin and cleaning your wound with sensual licks that add to the pleasure of riding his cock with reckless abandon. You’re so close you could taste the orgasm in your mouth. You only need a little push that you provide yourself by rubbing your clit.

You cum around his cock your walls are fluttering around him keeping him just right at the edge but never quite there.

His cock is still leaking, red and hard when you get up pushing at his chest until he’s laying on the bed. He’s panting and struggling against his binds. The loss of your heat makes him react like a feral beast. It doesn’t seem far-fetched as he still has your blood tainting his face and his eyes ruby red.

”Please, please, please.” Jeongguk tossed away his pride and begged as tears continued to stream down his face. You decide it's best not to deny him his orgasm anymore as you don’t know if he will go mad or not if you do.

”Shh, I got you baby.” You massage his shoulders and place pecks all around his face, his nose, lips, and cheeks as you slowly sink down, his length filling you up again. You purposefully tighten your walls around him to get him to finish as you start a punishing pace.

Milking every drop of cum that he has for you.

[istadris]

I’m back with another Mario Movie AU, because apparently I can’t stop.

(It’s not really intended as a Bowuigi / Bowsario / Powser scenario, but if you want to read it that way, be my guest and go wild with your ideas).

Luigi gets captured and taken to Bowser, you know the drill. BUT. Two details make a big difference from canon :

Luigi, who’s been in a Hobbit bingewatch recently, manages to take a leaf out of the “surviving the huge murderous dragon by stroking their ego” book and starts complimenting and praising Bowser, whose reputation spreads beyond this world, he claims. He’s only come here to admire the glory of such a magnificent king, the Terror of the Darklands, the Scourge of the Kingdoms, the King of Monsters (he’s pulling all of this out of what he’s heard and awkwardly guessed so far). How could he not, after everything he’s heard about him ?? And yet the tales pale in comparaison of the real thing. Yes, that’s totally why he’s here. “And that other human with a moustache ?” “ Do you think I know every human being with a moustache wearing an identical outfit with a hat with the letter of his first name on it?! ...Because I don't! That’s just how normal human males look like !!! Are your mask guys related just because they look like each other ??” Bowser, turning towards the Shy Guys: “Are you ?” “No!! Gross, we’re married, Sir!” “A-anyway, I’m sure that human (who has nothing to do with me at all) is here for the same reason as me! To meet you and tell you how much he finds you awesome! Not for your fiancé at all!”

Bowser is dumb enough to believe all of it.

So now Bowser is very happy because not only does he loves sycophants as a general rule, but this one is human! If just his reputation was enough to make human flock to his kingdom, surely Peach will be head over heels for him once she meets him ! Ha! Take that, random Ex-Koopa-Now-Dry-Bones !!

“Told you all I was irresistible! Now she WILL say yes!!!”

But because he wants to hit every single bullet point in human attraction (and not at all because he’s a bit nervous), he’s asking Luigi for his “opinion”. Which, for Luigi, amounts to stand around while Bowser is singing his lungs out  and pretends that yes, a human would totally be charmed by this!

“How about a mass ritual sacrifice for our wedding ?”

“Oh god, that’s a thing ???”

“Yes, obviously ! Pure Koopa wedding tradition! Won’t she love it?!”

“mamma mia...”

“What was that ?”

“I MEAN- Yeah that’s. That’s very cool, but how about you go even further ?”

“More victims? I mean, I can scrounge up some forced volunteers in my troops...”

“No!! Erm, how about you manage to win the war without making a single causality ? Any warlord can kill everyone on his path, but you’re THE Bowser! You don’t even need to use your full strength to be respected!”

“...That’s very stupid. And I don’t want to be respected, I want to be feared.”

“Well you didn’t hurt me (very much) and I fear AND respect you very much !”

“Fair point.”

“And if you manage to do that ? That Princess Peach, she’ll swoon straight into your arms!”

BONUS !

In the Rainbow Road battle, instead of falling in the sea, Mario and DK are captured and taken to Bowser (with Luigi present in the throne room).

Bowser is gloating and Mario is ready to fight despite the danger:

“So, human, did you also come here to sing my praises?”

“Oh I’ll sing something alright, you...”

“Brother!!” Luigi starts yelling in Italian, “for ONCE in your life, don’t pick a fight you can’t win and listen to me! Just pretend that the maniac with fire breath is the most amazing guy you’ve ever seen, our lives depend on it!”

“...you amazing, incredible and badass king, I can’t believe I ever tried to fight you!”, Mario quickly plays along to the point of dropping on one knee (but mostly to hide his gagging face).

Bowser immediately turns toward Luigi :

“What did you say?? What was that gibberish ?!”

“Eerrr Magic! Yes! To-to make him admit how much he finds you awesome!”

“You can use magic?!”

“Human magic!! That only works on humans!! Not on Koopas or whatever -not that I would have used it on you, of course, eh ehehe....”

“You can make humans fall in love with me on command ?? That’s even BETTER! Now Peach WILL marry me without any doubt!!”