#but god i feel so obvious now it feels glaringly obvious fuck

[floatmeintothesun-2]

Wildfire

pairing; Mark Grayson x f!reader

tags: Smut, aphrodisiacs, , wc 3.9k, doggy style, oral sex (m and f receiving) cream pie, soft mark Grayson, mark gets in there :p, established relationship

tw: none

Quick summary; Mark comes to your place late at night, desperate an needy from the effects of an aphrodisiac (the result is a difficulty to walk afterward)

—

You know there’s something wrong the moment Mark raps desperately at your window. 

It’s been a long week and you had been looking forward to this – pampering yourself with a long everything shower and splurging on soft store-bought gelato while you binge trashy shows off of the internet with your trusty laptop. 

 Mark floats outside, looking agitated, eyes tracking you with unwavering intensity as you draw closer. When you open the window, you can see that he’s unnaturally flushed, sweat beading on his skin despite the chill outside. He looks a little worse for wear, but overall, you can’t see any glaringly obvious injuries.

As soon as you open the window he’s climbing inside clumsily, surging toward you with a desperate sound. 

“Baby, I – shit, got – got hit with something outside,” He stutters, stumbling over his own words and he practically plasters himself to you and goes limp. You nearly go down with him, having not expected to be saddled with 210 pounds of alien boyfriend. “I don’t – feels weird.” Mark looks at you pleadingly and you grow worried. Is he concussed? It takes a lot to actually hurt him, and for a second, you wonder if someone threw a cruise ship at him again.

He’s being pretty handsy too, squeezing at your hips, ghosting his lips over your cheek and forehead. Normally you wouldn’t mind – you’d welcome it, really, but right now, your main concern is whether or not Mark is injured somehow.

“Mark? What’s going on? Are you hurt?” You ask frantically, placing a hand on his cheek and he groans, leaning into your palm. His head tilts down, forehead meeting your shoulder as he trembles minutely, hands smoothing down your ribs and squeezing at your hips. Your breath hitches as he drags the tip of his nose over your neck.

“No, nonono, I just – I feel hot, wanna feel you, s’like it’s burning me up from the inside,” He slurs against your pulse point, lips pressing to your carotid artery, feverish in its temperature. Mark is almost crushing you to his chest as if he can’t live without your skin on his, as if he’s trying to open up his ribs and tuck you into the space next to his heart. His eyes are wide, pupils dilated so much until you can just barely see that gorgeous warm brown you love so much. “Fuck – I’m so hot. Feels better when you touch me.”

Your jaw drops as he nuzzles against you, disbelief and incredulous shock surging up inside you. Are you serious? This sounds like a corny freaking romance novel. Is this really a – 

“Mark did you get shot with a freaking aphrodisiac??” You ask, hardly believing it as Mark pauses in his relentless marking of your neck. God, you’re going to look like a tiger mauled you or something tomorrow. He squints at you.

“Mmaybe. Robot mentioned something like that I think… I wasn’t listening. He told me to go blow off some steam.” He admits slowly with a shrug. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. “ Mark tries to kiss you again but you put a hand to his lips, making him sigh and lean into your palm.

“Hold up. Is there a way to fix this? Did Robot tell you to do anything else?” You ask and Mark wrinkles his nose

“Probably. Said something about physical touch and uh, sex.” He winces. “By the way, do you..? S’not necessary, I think. I was gonna ask earlier but I got distracted.” You blink at him, and he raises his eyebrows.

Since he's been off doing his usual saving of the world and other worlds in space and other other worlds in even deeper space, etc, you've barely seen him all this week. And here he is now, practically draped over you, stubbornly sticking to you like a barnacle. And while you've made do with your trusty vibrator, it's not comparable to the way he feels. 

Also, you've just really, really, really missed him. 

"I mean. I'm down. If it uh, cures you faster then it's fine with me." You reply, ignoring the way sticky heat pools between your thighs at the thought. God, you don't want to sound like a sex-deprived freak but you've been needing him for a while. Mark frowns.

"I don't want it just to be for me," He says in a clear effort to cut through the haze of incredible horniness that is undoubtedly clouding his mind. "If you're not comfortable– "

"Mark. I don't know how else to say this but if you don't do something in the next three minutes, I might jump your bones. What I'm trying to say is that I am willing. Very willing." You confess and he blinks. You blink back at him. Then he laughs and pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours with a relieved little sigh. You melt into him and Mark closes his eyes.

It starts off sweet, soft and gentle as Mark licks at the soft swell of your bottom lip as if asking for permission. It always does – Mark is, at his core, a wonderfully sweet, gorgeous person. But you’re greedy and he needs more, so you press closer, opening your mouth. He groans, his hands squeezing your hips.

Heat coils into your lower stomach as he swallows your moans and moves his tongue into your mouth. It’s messy and slow and when you press your hips against his, he makes a muted hiss of pleasure, fingers tightening on your skin.

It’s easy to follow his lead as he presses closer, your head growing fuzzy as you belatedly remember that you do eventually have to come up for air. You tap the side of his arm lightly and he pulls back, not even out of breath but looking equally as wrecked as you feel. His eyes rake down your body, taking in your soft skin, your figure covered in nothing but a fluffy white bathrobe, smelling of his body wash — smelling like him.

“Bed?” He asks desperately and you nod. You don’t know if the aphrodisiac affecting Mark is contagious but you feel yourself getting embarrassingly wet after a few kisses and you’re pretty sure Mark’s halfway to just grinding against you like a cat in heat. He scoops you up easily like you weigh a couple of grapes and you blink — only to find yourself nestled in bed a second later. 

Mark is already on top of you, somehow halfway done with taking off that stupidly tight suit that shows off his impressive musculature and toned body. He peels off the legs of the suit quickly, kicking it off and leaning down to kiss you again, and again. The noise of quiet relief he makes when he rips away his jockstrap may very well be the most ridiculously sexy thing you’ve heard.  Your hands are already grasping at his pecs, squeezing and pinching, drawing a muffled whimper from the freaking alien currently in the process of divesting your robes from your body. 

“Shit — baby, take this off, take this off now, please,” he begs, fiddling with the knot you’ve tied at the front of your robe. His hands are clumsy and you reach down to do it yourself, figuring that it’s a little unfair to have Mark be the only one naked here. Once you manage to open it up and toss it away, he’s palming at your tits, leaning down to pop one in his mouth while the other is squeezed gently with his other hand.

It feels like fire, his searing tongue drawing circles around your areola and you whine, eyes squeezing shut as a hand comes down to find your clit. It takes a couple of tries but Mark locates the little bead and uses the pad of his thumb to swipe over it, moaning desperately into your skin. There’s a hot coil of bliss building in your gut, tight and expanding with every moment Mark keeps his mouth on your tit.

“Mark — oh god, I’m gonna — nnshit, I’m gonna cum,” you warn shakily and he whimpers at your words, pulling off your breast so he can kiss you messily. It doesn’t quite land and he ends up kissing the corner of your mouth but it’s fine, you don’t care, not when his thumb is rubbing figure eights on your clit. 

“Cum, then, I wanna see you. Wanna see your pretty face when you cum on these fingers,” he murmurs against your cheek, and you nearly sob when you feel a thick finger press against your cunt. Your hips buck as he drags his sopping finger in and out, curving and hooking against your g-spot, the palm of his hand fixed to your clit. “You feel so — so wet, baby. M’gonna add another, okay?” He says, and you nod frantically.

God he feels so fucking good, the stretch is unimaginably delicious as he adds another finger, pace unrelenting as he pumps his digits into your dripping cunt. It feels so much better than your own fingers, thicker and longer, able to hit that one gummy spot inside of you that makes you keen. It’s almost blinding and you tremble as a tidal wave swamps over you, overwhelming and hot like a freaking supernova.

Mark kisses your stomach, nearly reverent in the way he maps a path of wet open-mouthed kisses down your abdomen. He pulls his fingers free from you and pops them in his mouth absentmindedly like he barely even thinks about the motion even though just the sight of that makes you almost cum a second time. 

“So pretty, so so pretty.” He mumbles, dragging his tongue across your inner thigh. While you blink stars out of your vision, he leans down, gently scooping your juices up with his tongue and swallowing them, tracing the outside of your pussy and cleaning you up with the single-minded focus of a man on a mission. You tremble through the aftershocks as he presses a shaky kiss to the hood of your clit.

“Fuck, Mark.” You breathe, carding a hand through short fluffy black hair and bringing him up so you can kiss him. He tastes like you – faintly tangy, slick and he hums quietly against you before drawing away.

“Good?” He rasps, and you nod, cupping his jaw and cheek with your hands. He closes his eyes briefly; if you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he was calming down. He’s still sweating though – burning hot and so, so needy even though he’s trying to hide it. 

“C’mere, pretty boy,” You croon, reaching down and gently curling around the base of him. He’s silky to the touch and thick, and no matter how often you do this, you’ll probably never stop wondering how you’ll take it. He whines, bowing his head until his forehead meets your shoulder, hips fucking into your palm as you press your thumb to the head, rolling back the foreskin there. “I got you, took care of me so well, baby. I’m gonna take care of you now. Just relax.”

He makes a ragged sound, shuddering as you pump him slowly, his face screwed up in pure relief and bliss. You push him back gently, guiding him until you’re on your knees and he’s sitting back, legs spread. His cock twitches in your palm, practically dripping like a leaky shampoo bottle. The sounds he’s making are heavenly, and you mentally resolve to keep them locked away in your mind forever.

You kiss his tip, working your way down with teasing little sucks and licks until you’re at the base, hand gently working at his balls. Mark draws in a ragged breath, trembling as you mouth at his cock.

“Stop– Don’t tease me please, baby,” He hisses, his hips bucking up when you drag your tongue along the underside. “Oh fuck –come on, feels so good…” 

You obey, if only because he’s starting to look desperate, and you can tell he’s halfway at his breaking point. He’s wonderfully thick, filling your mouth with a satisfying heaviness and Mark throws his head back with a long, drawn-out moan. A hand settles on the back of your head, thick thighs framing your body as you inhale through your nose and go deeper. 

“God – shit! Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck, keep going, uh huh, just like that. ” He rasps, digging his hands into your lovely bedsheets. It’s a bit rough – his hips keep jerking up into your hot mouth even though he babbles out apologies hastily afterward, and his cock drags a bit too far every so often but fuck, it’s good. You don’t know if you can cum from just sucking dick, but if anything, you know that you’re well on your way to finding out. He sounds so out of it already, his voice quivering as he pushes you down further, just a little bit. “Nn– oh god, oh god, you’re so good for me, so good to me. Shit, is that the back of your throat?”

You take the hint, inhaling and swallowing until you physically can’t anymore, jerking off what you can’t fit in your mouth with your hand. With the other hand, you play with your clit, moaning muffledly and Mark swears, no doubt feeling the vibrations from your voice. You think he’s still talking, having always been pretty vocal while fucking you into the mattress or buried in your cunt, but you can’t really make it out through the sound of you messily choking on him.

You can feel him shift above you, the grip in his hair tightening slightly. 

“Oh fuck are you — “ He cums. A lot. You gag, having not expected it and a strangled, low sound erupts from Mark’s chest. You swallow what you can, astounded by the sheer amount as your boyfriend hisses swears and unintelligible gasps.

You swirl your tongue around the tip one last time to make sure he’s done before pulling off of him with a slight pop. He looks wrecked, hot and sweaty, thighs still spread wide. His fat cock is still hard, flushed at the tip and leaking slightly. God, you’ve never met a man with a prettier dick than Mark. 

While he blinks listlessly at the ceiling, you busy yourself with suckling at his balls, rolling and massaging the skin gently as he finally manages to regain lucidity. 

“Baby. Fuck, so — you’re so good. So good.” He mumbles, and you can feel the embers flickering in your lower stomach at his praise. Two strong hands gently pull you up, and you find yourself situated in Mark’s lap, complete with him peppering feverish kisses to your neck and face.

“How do you feel?” You ask and he closes his eyes.

“Like I just had one of the best orgasms in my life. Also super horny. Like. I just — can I fuck you now? Please?” He asks desperately and you look down at his cock. It’s still hard. You’re not sure if he skipped the refractory period all together or literally just got over it super fast. That’s probably an effect of the aphrodisiac. Also holy fuck.

“Jesus. Yes. Please.” You manage, and he kisses you again, soft and gentle as he lays you out over your bed. It feels like reassurance — a quiet reminder. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

“Gorgeous.” He mumbles, crawling on top of you and wrapping a hand around his swollen cock. Mark braces an elbow over your head, giving himself a few short pumps before grinding the tip of his dick against your clit. You nearly cry as he just keeps rubbing against you, slick and hard and you want him inside now. He is smearing pre cum over your clit and while it feels so freaking good, it’s not what you want. 

“Mark — please.” You whisper and he presses a kiss to your stomach.

“Okay. Okay — I got you. I got you.” He murmurs, notching the head at your pussy and slowly pushing inside. You squeeze your eyes shut and inhale tightly through your teeth as you feel the first inch or two squeeze in. You’re probably wetter than the Niagara Falls right now — courtesy of Mark fingering you and eating you out + whatever slickness that was there beforehand but god, the stretch is still intense.

“Crap. Fuuuck.” You hiss and Mark kisses your brow.

”Need me to stop? Too much?” He asks worriedly but you shake your head immediately. 

“No. No, I’m okay. Feels good. God you feel good, Mark.” You groan, and really you’re not lying. He makes a low sound, deep in his chest, pressing his forehead to yours as he slowly bottoms out. He feels so thick inside of you, hot and right and so utterly addicting that you can feel your eyes roll back into your skull.

“Oh — nnnfuck. Feels so — so fucking tight, so pretty, baby, pretty girl, you’re so s— sweet, god,” Mark babbles senselessly. You feel so warm, almost like you’re molded to the shape of his cock. You’re made for him, he’s made for you, fuck, Mark wants nothing more than to just stay here in this moment, wrapped up in you. You’re whimpering breathy little noises he doesn’t even think you realize you’re making, but they sound so fucking nice.

You open your eyes, grabbing at his arm and squeezing. 

“Mark — please, want more,” You’re looking at him with those big eyes, pleading and he’s not going to say no, he’s never going to say no to you. 

He squeezes his eyes shut. It feels overwhelming — but in a good way. Overwhelming in a way that Mark is addicted to, wholeheartedly. Soft, so soft, warm, your hands are on his shoulders, he can feel your chest rising and falling as you breathe —

Fuck, he has to move. 

Slowly, mind numbingly slowly, he drags his hips back, before fucking back into you. It’s gentle, for now. He doesn’t want to do too much too soon, even though his blood is singing for him to just fuck you, hard and fast, the way he knows you like. It sends burning bliss up the length of his spine and his hands travel down to your hips, hands squeezing at the squishy flesh there. Soft. So soft. 

You shudder beneath him, and your thighs try to close from where Mark is nestled in between them. He holds them open and inhales shakily, praying that whatever self-control he has left will carry him through the night. He keeps his thrusts gentle, no matter how much this goddamn aphrodisiac wants him to fuck you straight into the mattress. It’s slow and sticky, sweat clinging to his body — he doesn’t know if it’s his or yours but honestly, he can’t find it in him to care about it for all that long. 

You can’t really think straight. It’s torturous, this slow pace, but it feels so goddamn good at the same time. His cock is angled perfectly to hit that one soft fleshy part inside of you that makes you see stars. He’s everywhere, lips on your neck, hot and searing. You dig your nails into his biceps as he gives a particularly devastating thrust. 

“More?” He asks breathlessly, and you swallow down a whine, nodding quickly. He leans down to kiss you, long and sloppy. You think you might fucking pass out as he begins a much more punishing pace — it’s unforgiving as bliss spreads and blots out everything you can possibly register. “Look so pretty when you take this cock, huh?”

Mark just keeps fucking into you, hard and fast, deep. The small little whimpers and moans spilling from his mouth should not sound that good but god, they do. Sweat beads down his brow and you can actually feel his cock twitch inside of you. It’s hot and sweaty and you’re pretty sure your brain is halfway to leaking out of your ears as molten lava sears pleasantly through your veins like fire. 

Mark just keeps talking, but you can’t make out the words through the sound of your hips slapping against his. You think your bed is rocking with the force of his cock driving you into the goddamn mattress and he hisses a loud swear, pulling out. 

You only have a moment to mourn the loss before he flips you over and slips his cock back inside, bracing his hands on your head besides you. This is how you know whatever self control he was holding onto by a thread has completely snapped. He plants a hand on your hip and drags you back onto him while fucking back into you brutally. 

The way his balls slap against your clit and the feeling of him practically rearranging your insides, you’re not sure you’ll survive this. You think you’re drooling onto your goddamn pillow but you can’t really tell. The only thing you can think about is Mark’s thick cock pounding you into your bed, his hand on your hips, his searing touch. It’s so good, so goddamn good and if you weren’t currently chock drunk, you’d make sure to tell him. 

But your mouth isn’t quite forming words and you can only sob into your pillow, feeling his pelvis smack against your ass. And honestly, Mark isn’t doing much better. The way your tight little pussy clenches around him makes him almost cum on the freaking spot. He knows that he’s not going to last much longer, and judging by the way your thighs tremble, you’re not either. 

“M’gonna make you cum okay? Gonna take care of you, pretty girl, j— just hang in there with me, I got you. Wanna feel that pretty pussy cum on this cock, come on baby,” He whimpers, closing his eyes as the tidal wave of insurmountable pleasure crashes over him and you cry out, arching your back as you cum. 

Mark swears, loudly, as he feels you clamp down on him. He doesn’t even try to stop himself. Doesn’t try to hold anything back or skim off his orgasm by his fucking teeth or something. His hips stutter. 

Hot, sticky cum pulses into you as he groans weakly, his moans growing high and loud. It’s nearly never ending, the soft sweetness of complete bliss overwhelms him, rendering him inconsolable in it’s wake. You can feel him fill you up and you can only gasp quietly. Mark shudders for a second, then pulls out. You wince at the feeling of his cum starting to drip out, pearly beads sliding down your thighs. 

You collapse into bed and Mark lays himself out on top of you, moving slightly to the side as an acknowledgment to your need to breathe. He doesn’t seem like he wants to move any time soon, turning you over so he can see your face. 

“Hi.” He smiles. You smack his arm weakly with a little laugh.

”Hi? That’s the first thing you say to me after you’ve fucked my brains out?” You ask and he shrugs, still glowing, still grinning happily at you. 

“I think — I think I’m good now. Hopefully.” He says and you blink as you remember the whole reason this started. 

”Feel better?” You hum and he kisses your cheek, wrapping an arm around you tightly.

”My metabolism burned through it, I’m pretty sure. Hooray for Viltrumite genes.” Mark mutters and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. He draws the blankets up over you and him, kissing your forehead, then the tip of your nose. 

“We still gotta clean up, Mark.”

”I know. We can take a shower together. For efficiency purposes.”

”…Sure. For efficiency purposes.”

—

guys I swear I’m not abandoning Miguel I’m gonna write for him soon trust 🙏

[insomniachronicals]

That, that was fine right?

[jeanbie]

HIGHER THAN HEAVEN ★ masterlist.

pairing: levi x reader

genre: university au | warnings: sexual content, fem/afab!reader, masturbation, listening-to-the-other-fucking, sexual tension, slut/whore shaming (men being pigs), "slutty"!reader, mentions of spit | wc: 10.7k | ♬

note: why has this been a wip for like...a year? also i always like to try out new versions of levi and i feel like he'd actually be just a normal kinda grumpy guy in a modern setting so i hope u guys like my uni!levi interpretation ꒰* ॢꈍ◡ꈍ ॢ꒱.*˚

⏤ Levi wants to be mad that his neighbour keeps screwing guys really loudly. But how can he be mad when she's just so goddamn pretty?

It's the third time this week.

Levi knows what it means to let off steam, and he knows that exam season has just finished. For the last few days, the volume of noise where he lives has climbed exponentially; flats throwing parties, yelling in the hallways and laughter outside his window. 

Levi's happy, too, that his exams are over, but he has to admit, he thought there might be moral standards from the people he called neighbours. 

He sighs, momentarily tapping down the volume of his music as he hears what he thinks might be his neighbour against the shared wall. The sound is fleeting, and he almost thinks he's making it up, and then he hears her soft whimpers and two hard thuds against the thin separation between their bedrooms. Levi waits for a second, blinking, and then he closes his eyes.

He's never really met his neighbour. It's been around eight months of living next door to one another, and he doesn't think he's actually ever seen her. Once, he decided he'd try to confront her when she left her room, but just kept missing the opportunity. 

Unlike his previous three years of university, Levi had decided to bunk alone for the final climb of his undergrad degree. His friends would all be upstairs somewhere, either in studios of their own or sharing six-bed flats amongst themselves, but God knew that Levi needed the space this time around. 

In his first year, he'd shared with quite possibly the worst human beings he'd ever had the displeasure of knowing. He spent more time at Erwin's flat than his own, which is why he ended up moving in with him in his second year. Then, he took a spontaneous study abroad for his third year (spontaneous, as in all of his friends were doing the same thing, and there was no way he was staying here on his own when they were out having the greatest times in different countries), and now, in his fourth and final year, Levi just wants to know that being alone doesn't have to be a luxury. 

He needs the space, and the quiet. Granted, his studio is spacious, although it would be perfect if he wasn't on the ground floor with little to work with for a view. Eight months down the line, and he's still waiting for that promised peace and quiet.

There are two other people in this hallway, but his next-room neighbour, Room A, is by far the most interesting. He knows that the people in Room D are party animals, and during freshers week, they made that fact glaringly obvious. Room C are ghostly, silent most of the time until they remember that they, too, have music to play to block out other people's noise.

Levi likes being in Room B because it's not too far from the exit. If he were to open his door, he'd be adjacent to Room A; the space is so tight that he's not even sure they would be able to leave or enter at the same time. 

The list of what he thinks he knows about his next-room neighbour is longer than what he actually knows. He knows for certain that she's female, and that she cares about the cleanliness of her flat. If Levi's not listening to the sound of other people's mess, he can hear her vacuuming every other day, which he can respect. 

Levi knows that her name is Y/N, because he's heard it being called a few times, both for business and pleasure. He also knows that she's in her final year, just like him, because once he overheard her on a phone call complaining about her dissertation. That's about all he knows confidently. 

The rest is speculation, things he thinks he knows from listening: he thinks she sleeps with the radiator off, because he always hears the switch in the morning. He thinks she keeps her keys on her door because he hears them clink when it closes, and he thinks she mumbles to herself sometimes, because the walls are thin and if she's not on the phone, then who could she be talking to? 

Finally, Levi thinks that she might be a bit of a whore, and he means it endearingly, because the amount of times Levi has heard her fucking somebody is becoming ridiculous.

At first, Levi tried to be understanding. After all, it wasn't like she was screwing guys in the hallway. She was in her room, in her own time, and he tried to come to terms with that simply being out of his hands. The noise was unfortunate, yeah, but he could always put his headphones on for an hour or so. 

Then it just kept happening, like clockwork, like some sick joke. 

After about the sixth time, he was fed up. He'd thrown his headphones down, scowling angrily as his eyes flickered to the time in the corner of his computer screen — 1:23am. It was bad enough that he was working all night on his stupid assignment, and now his neighbour was screwing some asshole so loudly that he may as well have had no headphones on in the first place? 

At least she sounded good. 

Levi had deliberately ignored that thought for a while, until he heard her having sex with some guy a few months ago. He'd sighed, like a routine at that point, and remained seated on his couch, the remote in his hand ready to raise the volume of the football game on TV.

The noise was faint — if Levi had to predict based on the floor plans of their rooms, she'd probably be on her bed — but if he strained enough, he'd be able to hear her mewling, the even fainter sounds of slapping skin. 

He sat there, silently, listening in like a priest taking confessions in church. His silence was judgement and equal measures of fascination. Having never really listened to her before, Levi never knew she sounded like that. Submissive, but seductive, dirty and slutty. Hm.

He had learned to respect her sex life — even creating his own for a while, too, giving her a taste of her own medicine. If anything, that only made things more lively in Room A. Somehow he blames himself for it having got to this point, presently, where he sits listening to her for the third time in a week — and it's not even Friday yet.

16:34 Levi: she's at it again 16:35 Erwin: AGAIN???? 16:37 Hange: isnt this like the fifth time this week? 16:37 Levi: third

Levi turns his chair to face the other wall, looking up at the blank plaster. There's another thud against it, and he blinks, his brows raised slightly. Is she fucking someone against the wall?

16:39 Furlan: theres no way its that bad 16:40 Furlan: send vid

After skimming over the texts, Levi's eyes flicker back to the wall. Then, he rises up from his chair and walks towards it, angling his body with his ear to the noise. Now that he's close, he can't hear a thing, and he scoffs — typical — and prepares to move away.

"Mphf — damn, bitch. You're more of a slut than I thought."

Levi stops. 

Bringing his phone to his legs, Levi slumps his shoulder against the wall casually and almost cranes to listen. Without seeing anything, he feels like a fly on the wall. He hears someone with a deep voice grunting — he doesn't care about them — followed by occasional gasps, much softer, honeyed, elusive. 

"You thought I was a slut?" 

Levi hears her voice quivering, but there's little hurt in her tone. It's all lust, and he can hear the smile in her words. 

For a second, Levi hears her body thud against the wall again and he flinches backwards. She must be directly on the other side — if the bricks weren't there, her body would be up against his own. 

"Dunno what I thought," the male voice says, strained. "Wasn't-expecting-this. Shit, that's tight."

"Mm. You like it?" There's a beat of silence, and the faint sounds of breathy moans, high in an octave that sends goosebumps pricking over Levi's arms. "You like me?"

"Like your pussy. Shit, girl."

With every imagined thrust, Levi can hear her moaning, her voice raising as the pace fastens. Levi stands there, his eyes zoning out on the crack under his door and eventually, he pulls back. There's a slight ringing in his ears, and blood rushes to the tips.

16:51 Levi: phone can't pick up the volume 16:51 Levi: just trust me

It happened two more times before the weekend rolled by, and Levi thought that she must be on a conquest of bedding every guy on campus. Half of him thought it was to spite him specifically, although he wasn't even sure that she knew what she was doing was bothering him so much. 

Friday evening had been a strange eve of silence, but he still felt on edge, as if waiting for the sounds to emerge. The weekend soon enough rolled by with no more sexscapades, and he felt almost a sag of relief in his shoulders.

Levi had just gotten out of the shower when he heard a knock on his door.

"Oh. It's you."

When he pulls it open, inwards on his own room, Levi props his weight against the door and stares out at Reiner, who is holding a light board under his armpit. Reiner holds it out to him with a nonchalant shrug and holds the door open with his foot as Levi takes the board with a raised brow and plonks it onto his bed. 

Reiner stands in the doorway until he comes back, not quite daring to enter.

"I need one of those," Reiner offers in conversation. 

"Well, you've got a job, buy one,” Levi replies, making Reiner smirk. "If you've broke it, then you can pay for it."

Reiner throws up his hands, "Hey, they don't call me the gentle giant for nothing."

Levi's face drops into a disapproving frown, "Nobody calls you that."

"You're right," Reiner sighs with a charming grin and then folds his arms. 

Reiner and Levi know one another from one of their elective classes, and by some magical fate — or a wild coincidence — Reiner had been a mutual friend of one of his closest friends since first year. He also lives upstairs on the third floor, alongside some other guys and a girl that Levi didn't know very well, but had met once at a party and had kissed. He'd considered bringing her back to his room just to torment his neighbour but passed up the temptation.

Thinking of his neighbour, Levi's eyes quickly dash to her door, wondering if she might be inside and listening to them. Reiner doesn’t catch the look — or maybe he does, prompting him to his next sentence.

"You should come out tonight," Reiner suggests.

"Where?"

"A few of us are getting some drinks at Sonny's," he says. "Feel like I haven't seen you properly since that party, like, what, three months ago? You should get out more, have fun." Then, Reiner's smile widens and he, too, glances to his left to Room A, "Escape your sex fiend of a neighbour."

Levi might have cringed at the thought of her listening in, but to his surprise, he found a thrill rush through his body. Maybe she was listening right now, curled up to the door.

"I don't like Sonny's," Levi replies.

"Oh, you've been there before?"

"No. But I saw it on Eren's Instagram once, and it looked awful, sorry."

Laughing, Reiner shrugs his shoulders. "I don't care. It's just nice to get out. Really — what if we changed bars, would you come then?"

Just as he says that a soft thud can be heard from behind him, beyond the walls of the thin hallway that houses Levi’s room and his neighbours'. Levi almost cranes to catch the sound, half expecting his party animal hall-mates from Room D to come bounding inside, dressed in flamboyant attire to listen to loud music whilst getting ready to hit the town for the Friday deals that bars boasted of to rowdy students. 

Instead, the door just to the right of Reiner swings open and a young woman steps inside. Levi blinks — depending on which direction she goes in, Levi's life could get a little bit more interesting.

Levi knows that he’s seen her before in the common room, chatting to other friends around a pool table, or shaking a vending machine with a stranger to try and free an overpriced bottle of Dr Pepper from the machine's claws. 

Levi blinks once again, and Reiner turns at the sound of the door creaking open, and the breath almost leaves Levi's body in one giant exhale when she steps in their direction, towards Room A.

Ah. So this is Y/N.

Reiner's eyes move up and down with intrigue as she — you — step closer towards them. Judging by your almost surprised gaze, and the flit of your eyes as you look between them and the door to Room A, even Reiner knows that you are the aforementioned sex fiend, the famous neighbour who screws guys all the time and makes Levi all hot and bothered. 

Nothing is said — there is nothing to be said. For a split second, you pause, judging the space past Reiner to your door, to your sanctuary, meanwhile, the two men size you up, intrigued by your very existence. Levi feels his conversation skills run dry — what could he say now that you were here?

He has to confess, against his previous wishes, that you were pretty. Beautiful, even. He tries to downplay it by thinking about you pushed up against the wall with a cunt full of someone else's cock, but if anything the thought only makes things worse. 

As you push through the awkward silence of the hallway, Reiner slightly inches closer to Levi, as if to give you space as you stride by. To their surprise, you do so with a lifted gaze, having the nerve to look shy, guilty, friendly. 

Everything would be easier if you weren't his type, weren't Reiner's type. Levi thinks about that for a second as his friend devours the sight of you, and Levi feels his stomach dip. He's never even spoken to you before, but he feels like Reiner has just crossed a boundary somehow. 

The fact of you being as pretty as you sound, as desirable as Levi imagined you had to be to bring so many people back to your den (either irresistible or slutty, but sometimes those went hand in hand and he knew it) just makes the dull ache in his abdomen worse, his heartbeat fluttering ever so out of pace.

As you pass, you peer over at the two men, gazing at Levi in particular. You even look around him, eyeing his room. Then, when you look back at Levi, it’s as if something clicks — it was as if you registered that this man had been enduring your fucks and flirts for weeks and weeks on end, and had been courteous with not complaining once. 

You look at him, over him, sizing him up greedily. Levi moves from foot to foot in a way that looks impatient, although he isn’t sure he's fully convinced you of his indifference when you smile charmingly, your cheekbones full and round.

"Hello," you say — Levi almost buckles. He's only ever heard your voice through walls and doors, never face to face. He blinks dumbly, says nothing.

"Hey," is what Reiner offers with a wide grin, his gaze flickering to your body and then back to your face. But you don’t look back, only look over Reiner's shoulder to Levi, and then turn to your door and thrust the key into the hole. 

Your door untwists, unlocks, and in you go. After it closes and clicks with the lock, Levi hears you shuffling in your room, and then he finally looks back at Reiner. 

For once, Reiner says nothing. He raises his eyebrows and pulls a face, one that Levi rolls his eyes at, and then Reiner claps his hands together and announces his silent leave. 

Levi watches as if frozen in place as Reiner leaves the hallway, and when his own door closes with a slight tick, he strains to hear you beyond the wall, but can hear nothing.

A whole day has passed since then, but Levi can’t stop thinking about it.

He hasn’t left his room all day, to the stressed displeasure of his friends. The hallway has been frozen in a quiet stillness, with nobody coming and going at any point. Levi hasn’t heard you stirring since you walked past him and Reiner the day before, but he supposes he’s just thankful that he has no fears of being bombarded with sex for hours on end, or minutes at a time depending on which loser you lure home. 

Levi drops his plate into the sink, sighing with both hands flat on the side of the counter. To the left, he casts a dirty glance out the window, looking at the grey landscape beyond the glass. The car park to the hotel that is tucked neatly behind his building is virtually empty, and the giant lake-sized puddles ripple with rain. He felt like it always rained here. 

Listening to the rain, Levi finishes his ritual of cleaning the dishes and then turns off the tap with another sigh. It has just been too quiet today — unnervingly quiet, in a way that makes Levi feel more on edge than at ease. He's been craving this taste of silence for so long, but now that it’s here, everything just feels off. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose with an irritated exhale and moves through the thin archway to get to his bedroom, near the front door, when he hears something beyond the threshold of Room A next door. Levi stops in place.

The noise is so faint that he almost misses it. He leans his head closer in the direction of the wall, waiting for the next sound to give when he hears it again — a breathy whimper. The whimper transforms into a moan, one that Levi can hear as clearly as he would if he were in the room. There are no other voices, and Levi pulls away from the wall quickly like it's on fire.

No. It can’t be.

Levi finds it both annoying and amusing when he hears you entangled with some random guy every other day, but just the possibility of it being you, and you alone, in your room with nobody but your fingers, makes Levi’s throat tighten.

Before, it felt as though your sex life was a performance intended for Levi to listen to, but now that it’s just you, the moment feels private and intimate, and Levi doesn’t know what to do.

The moaning continues, staggered, stuttered, falling and rising in a tempo he knows only the hand of the moaner can create. By now, he’s somewhat of an expert on your noises, how you respond to whatever your partner is doing — the unfamiliarity of your pleasure tonight has thrown him off, and all Levi can do is apologise in his head and pull himself back against the wall. 

He’s come this far listening to you play with others. It would just be unfair not to hear how you really like it when you’re alone.

Levi can’t be sure what it is you’re actually doing; he’ll have to leave it to his imagination to conjure up the perfect image of you on your bed, legs spread, fingers stuffed up your cunt. He closes his eyes as he leans his head against the plaster, quite literally straining to hear every gasp leaving your mouth.

The world seems to slow around him, the sounds of your one-man show all he can hear. All of a sudden, he’s thankful for the unnatural silence of the hallway outside so he can hear it all.

What he pictures is lewd and perfect; you’re biting your lip probably, trying to contain yourself as you plunge your fingers deeper inside your pussy, curling them in a way nobody else can. The lights are dimmed, but in his mind, the picture of your body is crystal clear; the shape of your body is outlined by light, shadows cast attractively around the perk of your breasts, the glisten of crystalline sweat on your skin. 

With your chest rising, Levi watches in his mind as your thighs quiver, your knuckles pushing against your opening — if it was possible to get more of your finger in there, you’d do it.

Your fingers slide in and out covered in wetness, each plunge inside accompanied by another moan that makes him shudder. Levi’s ear is flat against the wall, his cock hardening uncomfortably beneath his joggers. 

All of a sudden, the shame of eavesdropping washes over him and he pulls away, breathing heavily as he moves from the wall to the bathroom. For good measure, he slams the door behind him, immediately turning on the tap and washing his face. What was he thinking?

Thankfully, there’s nobody to greet his ashamed walk back into his bedroom. He rubs the side of his face with a groan and glances back at the wall. For a moment, he pauses, but he hears no more sound.

Levi’s been in a sour mood since the weekend, and nobody around him knows how to solve it. 

At first, it had started with the dream he’d had; the dream where he’d shoved your head into a pillow and fucked your brains out, which woke him with a start and another guilty walk to the bathroom. Then, he’d turned up late to his class and simultaneously discovered that Reiner had, in fact, broken the light board he loaned him the other week.

After that, he received a bitchy email from the receptionist at his building about upcoming fire alarm inspections, and because he’d been too busy looking at his phone, Levi had slammed into a group of first-year girls in the library and caused one of them to drop all of her books and her coffee on the floor. Now, his wallet was five pounds lighter and his expression was sour, and no matter how hard his friends tried to coax him out of his foulness, it was no use.

“At least you bought her another coffee,” says Eren with a shrug as he watches the flustered first-year disappear out of the student café with her friend.

“Not the point, dipshit.”

“It’s probably ‘cause of the lack of sleep this man gets thanks to his harlot neighbour,” Hange suggests, their shoulders hunched as they finish up one of their handouts for their evening class.

At that, Reiner looks up from his phone and adds, “Hot harlot neighbour.”

“Is she actually?” asks Erwin. “I don’t know if I can trust your judgement in women, Reiner.”

“She is beautiful,” Levi mutters reluctantly, his face still drawn together with irritance. Admitting that fact only makes him feel worse, especially when the memory of his dream creeps back into his mind. He sighs and rubs his neck. “But she hasn’t really made any noise in a while.”

“Maybe she’s on her period,” says Eren unhelpfully. 

“Whores are on the pill,” Porco adds, suddenly reminding Levi of his presence. The blond-haired guy sits to the right with a coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of sexist to call her a whore when I know most of you probably have higher body counts?” replies Isabel. She’s crept up on the knit of friends, but contrary to normal, her being here doesn’t make Levi feel any better. Right now, there are simply too many witnesses to his misery.

Eren shrugs. “Fine. Then she’s a slut.”

“As if that’s any better,” Isabel says dumbly. “You guys are pigs.”

“But she is beautiful,” Reiner says again. “I’m telling you — it’s a miracle Levi hasn’t made his move yet. If I lived next door to someone who looked like that…” He trails off. Levi cringes. How did he end up being friends with the worst people in the world?

Reiner sells Levi as actually having enough confidence to get up and knock on her door, when the truth of the matter is that Levi is too afraid to even approach the wall when he hears a noise anymore. In the time between him listening to you finger-fucking yourself and him having such an out-of-pocket dream about you, Levi hasn’t even wanted to listen to anything he hears outside of his room, too afraid of what he might do or think if he hears you again.

Besides, what would he even do? It’s been almost eight months of sharing a wall, and he’s come no closer to knowing you or anything about you. You’re as familiar to him as any stranger in this café, but the only difference is that he’s heard the way you whimper when your cunt is stuffed with cock and you’re up against the wall, which most people would have trouble competing with.

When you know how someone sounds when they’re most likely cumming on someone else’s dick, it’s an unbeatable bond.

Levi looks up at Reiner as if to say something, but then his eyes are drawn to the doors to the café. They widen suddenly, and after watching his expression shift, Reiner follows his gaze and looks over his shoulder.

After a few seconds, he whips his head back to the group and hisses, “That’s her!”

The speed at which their heads turn is almost funny to Levi, and he might have laughed had he not been so full of mortified fear at the sight of you. 

You look pretty today — really pretty. Pretty in a way that Levi can’t even begin to make sense of considering the only way he’s seen you so far is in glimpses, in the corridor dressed in comfy clothes, or stark naked with his dick up your snatch in his head. His whole body fills with a sticky heat as he narrows his gaze on you, hoping that by staring you might disappear like a mirage and spare him the embarrassment due to come.

But nothing ever goes the way Levi wants it to. He breathes in heavily when your gaze pans across the room as if you’re searching for someone, stopping with a comical wide-eyed look of surprise when you see a group of six or so people all watching you with strange intensity. 

Levi is not at all prepared for the way your brows knit together in confusion as you assess the strangers, only to raise in acknowledgement when you finally look at him for a moment too long. 

Words are not needed to convey the silent series of events that spiral after that look. Levi knows instantly what you’re thinking and what it means. He knows that you know he’s told everybody about you — and he knows that you know he knows who you are and how often you do what you do. 

There’s no way of explaining how confident he is that you’ve cracked the code in your head — he doesn’t know anything at all, only that when your face brightens into a smile he knows he’s screwed.

So fucking screwed.

“Oh shit, you were right,” Porco says after a while of mutual silence, and Levi is strangely grateful for the distraction of his voice as he turns back to his friend. “She’s hot!”

“And you’re being fucking loud, shut up,” Levi grumbles, his face scrunched into such a tight frown that it hurts to hold it. “Yes, that’s her. So what.”

“She’s looking at you,” Hange says rather unhelpfully. They’re sitting with their elbows on their spread legs, head low as they glance at you over the top of their glasses. Their brows are so high they might as well become a part of their hairline as they say a few seconds later, “Still looking.” A beat, and then, “Still looking.”

Levi huffs quietly, trying to find something interesting on the low table in the middle of the group to latch onto. All he can find are some of Hange’s papers and Porco’s bagel wrapper — neither are particularly inspiring to stare at, but he stares anyway, acutely aware of the heavy weight of your gaze on the side of his face as you approach the coffee counter. 

“Maybe it’s because you’re all fucking gawking at her,” Levi replies stiffly. 

To their credit, the group does their best to mask their very obvious staring, but Levi already knows that their hanging mouths have caused irreparable damage. He makes it a point not to look back over at you, and based on how his friends try to busy themselves with random things, he guesses you’ve reluctantly looked away from them and are currently buying something.

After today, Levi will never come here again — he’s just suddenly remembered that you’re real, and the notion of seeing you out in public just became his next biggest worry.

“Maybe you should go and say hi,” Isabel suggests, her mouth full around a bite of brownie. 

Levi looks at her with an incredulous look. “And why would I do that?”

“She’s your neighbour,” Isabel replies slowly. “It’s polite. And friendly.”

“I’ll go and say hi, if you want,” offers Reiner. When Levi throws him a dirty look, he says, “What? She smiled at me before. I might be her next conquest.”

“Not much of a challenge for her,” Levi mutters. Besides, you weren’t even looking at Reiner back then — but as soon as the thought comes to his head he immediately exiles it. He’s not going to stoop as low as to fight Reiner on it; it will only deepen the hole he’s dug himself now that he's opened his mouth and told people about you.

After around four minutes, Levi has exhausted all possible resorts of interest around the table and anxiously rubs the back of his neck. Reiner still has his head looking up towards the coffee counter, but the others have mercifully ceased their curious staring. He levels his breathing and takes a quick swig of his tea, all before absentmindedly turning his head to look over his shoulder.

Your back is facing everyone, your head thrown back in laughter at something someone next to you is saying. Levi represses the urge to bristle at his own thoughts of what you might be laughing at, what possibly makes you laugh and smile — what coffee did you order, or maybe you are a tea person? Hot chocolate? Levi’s face falls into a narrow look of horror — Jesus Christ, he’s in so deep and over what? The sound of you?

Levi decides that he’s possibly gone insane after a long four years in academia and rests his cheek on his shoulder for a minute, gaze low. His friends are right, to a fault; he could just talk to you, scratch the itch until it’s gone and he can relax and live like a normal human being again. But that would involve taking initiative and actually confronting you, which in the grand scheme of things seems like a terrible idea. 

He’d rather just forget about the delusional display of heated fantasies he’s conjured up after getting just a peek at you.

“Oh, shit. She’s looking again.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly Levi looks back at you without even thinking about it. 

Sure enough, you’re looking back at the group, a cup of something steaming in your hand as your friend leads the way through a cluster of tables towards the double doors leading out onto the wide front courtyard. The screaming voice in his head is commanding Levi to look away, but he just can’t. 

He watches you as you look back at him, mapping out every detail he possibly can while he has the chance to just look without any consequence, and feels his breathing constrict when you smile, so softly that it knocks the literal wind from his lungs, and raise your free hand in a wave.

And he doesn’t even move.

Somewhere behind him, Levi hears Reiner snigger and the brawny guy lifts his own hand to wave back at you, a grin plastered on his face. Your eyes barely move to look at Reiner in acknowledgement before locking back onto Levi with an almost hopeful look, and now would be a great time for Levi to move or do something in response, but he doesn’t. And he doesn’t know how to respond when your smile deepens into a smirk, almost like that was exactly what you wanted him to do.

“Why does she look down bad?” Eren asks quietly, making Porco cackle with a laugh that makes you look away and slink after your friend. Levi affords himself the time to watch you go, watching the way your ass moves in your jeans, the way your breasts bounce in that shirt, the way your waist looks and the way your hair moves and the way your smile widens—

“You’re a lucky son of a bitch,” Porco says, shaking his head with an amused look on his face. “If I lived next to someone who looked like that, and looked at me like that—”

“Well, you don’t, so fuck off,” Levi snaps. Wrong answer: the boys in his group laugh even louder, and Levi wants to shrink to the size of an ant and drown in his tea.

God. Levi realises with a gigantic sigh that today has been a long ass day.

Levi rubs his hair with the towel and glares at his reflection in the mirror. He stares, long and hard, and frowns at what looks back. For a guy who is to be considered “grown”, he cannot believe how stupid he's being, how stupid his brain is.

He has never once had a crush on somebody he’s never even met before, and only actually seen properly about two times. In the long four years of being in this city, Levi has never entertained an interest in anybody, mostly because he felt he didn’t have the patience for a relationship nor the time, which is why the way he’s feeling now is all the more bothersome — and even worse when the person he’s having trouble understanding his feelings for is someone he’s barely met, never talked to, and knows likes cock more than the air they breathe.

It is simply outrageous that he likes you so much. And he’s not even sure if what he feels would qualify as liking you. 

Levi has never spoken one word to you and has never made any effort to do so, but alongside the audible archive of moans he has of yours in his memory and the mapped-out beauty of your face, Levi can distinguish that the pooling pit of desire in his tummy is closer to a crush than it is just general appreciation. And this feeling sucks.

Suddenly, Levi thinks back to seeing you in the student café and physically cringes at his reflection. All that for what? A smile? He is pathetic — Levi cannot believe that he has become such a strange man, and it is entirely your fault for being so pretty. And sounding so fucking sexy.

Levi hangs his towel on the small heated towel rack and washes his hands, hoping that in a metaphorical sense, it will wash away all of the terrible thoughts he’s having. Then, he shakes them dry and flicks off the bathroom switch, striding back into his room with a sinking feeling of emptiness. 

He makes his way to the kitchen and looks longingly at the kettle. A cup of tea would do wonders for the creeping headache forming in his skull, but like the idiot he’s suddenly turned out to be, Levi instead leans up on his toes to grab a bottle of whiskey from on top of the fridge and finds an accompanying glass to pour himself a drink. 

It’s been a long day, and he needs something strong. Quite frankly, Levi thinks he also deserves it.

For most of the evening, Levi entertains himself with his whiskey bottle, a glass and whatever the hell his TV can pick up in the black spot he calls home. He’s not sure how many glasses he’s had by the time he hears the corridor door swing open with its alarmingly loud squeal, but judging by how the room seems to tilt on its axis, Levi would wager a guess as to believe he’s had at least more than six glasses. 

He feels his heart in his ears, pounding like a war drum, and he immediately reaches for the remote and turns down the volume. Like a cat, he feels his ears prick at the slightest sounds, and quite quickly, it’s as though stones are weighing down his stomach when he hears a boyish kind of snigger in the hallway, followed by the sound of keys in Room A’s door.

Please no. Not right now.

Not when Levi’s trying to come to terms with the unnatural feelings he’s somehow garnered for you.

Levi hears you shush the guy of the night and push open your door, its hinges moaning with relief when both of you stumble inside and it closes with a click. It’s almost embarrassing how quiet Levi has gone in an effort to eavesdrop — as much as he dislikes the idea of you being fucked by some random guy, he has to admit that he’s come to find some enjoyment in the vision of you being destroyed, in the music made by your pleasure. It took a while to admit it, but now that he has, it’s like a weight being lifted.

Once again, he is left to wonder what you’re doing when he can no longer hear your moans or the guy’s stupid voice muttering: Levi’s imagined you stumbling through the narrow passage past the bathroom and towards your bed, arms snug around the guy’s chest. You’ve probably sat down, and the guy is between your legs holding your face with his hands.

Only you haven’t. Levi hears a familiar thump against the wall and his eyes widen excitedly.

“Get this shit off.” Levi hears the guy grunt unhappily, and, hey wait, when did Levi suddenly end up listening so close to the wall?

“You don’t like it?” you ask, your voice so quiet through the thin layer of brick separating you from Levi’s ear. 

“Like it better when it's not on,” the guy groans, and a few more thumps against the wall sound along with a strange dragging noise that Levi presumes might be your back. “God, you’re so hot.”

Well, that they can both agree on.

Levi closes his eyes as your voice begins to rise, foolishly high and breathy and in a way that makes Levi’s dick harden under his clothes. He pictures your face in his head, thrown back in a twist of pleasure, and fights the urge to grip his cock with his hand — he loses the battle and curses as he grabs his dick and begins to pump his wrist.

Levi leans his back against the wall and dips his head low to his chest, his eyes unwillingly fixed on the sight of his own cock hardening in his hand. Levi acknowledges that jerking off to his neighbour having a shag is a bit weird, but it could be worse, and as long as you can’t see him, he doesn’t care. 

He tightens his grip around his dick and drags his hand up and down, biting down on his lip to keep his satisfied groans from eliciting any unwanted attention.

On the other side of the wall, you feel the brick behind your head as the stranger lifts one of your legs up over his shoulder, falling to his knees like a beggar and lifting the bottom half of your skirt up over your hips. At some point during your ungracious entry into the bedroom, the man managed to slip down your panties and now has full, unrestricted access to your cunt, and wastes no time pushing his head between your thighs. 

Feeling the man’s tongue running flat up your slit, you moan breathlessly and stare up at the ceiling. You’ve fucked so many men it’s impossible to remember all of them, but you never get bored of the feeling of someone’s tongue up your pussy. Your heart stammers in your chest as you peer down at the stranger; his face is pushed between your legs and hidden from view, leaving you with nothing but dark locks of hair to gaze at, hunched shoulders and a pale hand pressing into your leg.

Admittedly, the only reasons you picked this stranger to approach in the bar had been because of the way he looked, and you close your eyes and let your jaw hang open in pleasure, all while your thoughts linger on who you pretend is between your legs instead of him. 

“You taste amazing,” the guy groans into you, and you smile pleasantly. Everybody likes being complimented, don’t they?

“Yeah?” you ask, smoothing one of your hands up around your tit, “It’s all yours.”

The guy groans, as does Levi, who’s listening so loyally that he might as well smash a hole in the wall and look through. Nothing is left to imagination anymore; it’s as if you’re narrating your night just for Levi’s sake.

“Yeah. You’re right. This pussy’s mine,” the guy laughs, nipping his teeth against your inner thigh and making you squeal unexpectedly. 

“Come on,” you rasp, worming your fingers through his twirly locks of hair with a slight grip. He winces and looks up at you from over your stomach, eyes dark and wide with the pain of your fingers tightening around his curls. “Fuck me, big guy. I want your cock.”

Levi’s wrist quickens. He blames the whiskey for the strangled little pathetic sound that burns in his throat, but there’s no way you heard it. Although these walls are so thin that he can hear every sound you make, there’s no way you can hear any of his noises. The logic defies Levi at that moment.

“God damn, you really are a needy girl, aren't you?”

No, you’re not, Levi thinks. Only you are — you grin down at the handsome man removing himself from between your legs and shuffle closer to grab a taste of yourself from his lips. He groans into your mouth, one hand on your ass and the other around the back of your neck. 

With his arms around you, the man guides you towards the end of your bed and ungracefully drops you down, groaning when you bite your bottom lip and stare up at him with an expectant look in your eyes. Levi could only dream of what makes the stranger growl like that as he strains to listen in. You open your legs to invite him in, watching as he pulls a condom from his back pocket and takes his jeans down to his ankles.

Levi’s cock is throbbing, the tip an angry shade of red as he swipes his thumb and smears a slip of pre-cum across the curved edge. Levi inhales deeply, feeling his whole body stiffen as he pulls his fist up and down, the fingers on his other hand grazing across his balls with a sensitive flush. He hears you moan outrageously loud and his wrist trembles — he must have slipped it in.

You tighten your legs around the stranger, pulling him and his dick further into your cunt, the wetness of it slippery and inviting and divinely powerful. Every man you’ve had up there has made a comment on how good it feels, and as the guy moans loudly and tells you it’s the best pussy he’s had, you think of your neighbour; his surprised expression when he saw you in the café, the way his friends threw him looks when you smiled. 

You know he’s been listening (if he hasn’t, then he’s admirably unbothered or deaf), and the thought excites you wildly.

You look beyond the man and to the wall, imagining your neighbour staring at the brick with a blank expression. Maybe he’s angry that you have another man over. You hope he is. 

Biting back a laugh, you moan for good measure and match every thrust with a sound. The guy stuffed inside of you mutters a string of curses, chest puffed with pride, oblivious to the vision you have in your head of your neighbour snug between your thighs, his face steeled into his usual displeasure. 

“Mmf, yes,” you whine, a little louder than you usually would. “Right there.”

“Say my name,” the guy growls, slapping your thigh rather sharply, “like a good girl.”

You flush, knees practically bent over to your chest as he folds you in half. For a second, you can’t even think of his name, don’t know if he ever even told you. Instead of wounding his pride, you drop a few girly moans and hope it distracts him, which it does. You wonder what would happen if you were to moan out your neighbours name — if you even knew it, that is.

“Oh, god,” you moan genuinely and close your eyes as the man sinks his cock in further. Thank goodness this man’s dick is long, you think, feeling the tip brush against a weak spot inside of you. The mattress beneath your spine is shaking uncontrollably, and the man peers down at you with a glint in his eye.

Levi’s head leans back and a breathless groan escapes — fuck, he thinks, but there’s no time to take it back, and certainly no chance he’s been heard. 

Unbeknownst to Levi, your ears prick up curiously. The man snug inside of you looks at your face with an equal amount of curiosity, his hands wide against your skin as he fucks you at an unmeasurably quick pace. It’s as if he has somewhere else to be than here, but the pressing wrinkle in his forehead deepens as he fucks you harder, nails digging into your skin, spit flying from his mouth to your breasts.

“My friend said your pussy was good, but I didn’t think it would be this good,” the guy says, his voice raspy. All you can currently focus on is the squelch between your legs, and for a hopeful sound of annoyance from your neighbour.

When nothing comes, you opt for staring up at the guy with wide eyes, as if the thought of being passed around a few friends shocks you. In actual fact, you could care less, just as long as you both feel good.

His next few thrusts knock the wind out of you, and Levi clings to those pitched sounds like they’re his new lifeline. Pumping the length of his cock with his hand, Levi clamps his eyes closed and tries not to become self-aware of what the fuck he’s doing, instead focusing all of his energy on the twisting ache in his stomach and the dull groan of his wrist bones.

What Levi does next horrifies him. His hips jerk suddenly, his breathing laboured as he imagines himself in your room between your legs. Just the thought of looming over you, chest bowed over yours, your legs over his shoulders as he sinks himself into your cunt. The look of pleasured joy on your face, that stupidly beautiful smile lifted so high. 

In the swirling darkness of his closed eyes, Levi conjures up images of you flustered and naked, covered in sweat and cum and as your breasts bounce the shine on your body curves — fucking hell, he’s in so deep, he’s so fucked.

“Oh! Oh, there, yep, there — hmpf!” 

Levi hears you so loudly that it’s as if you’re panting it in his ears. He fists his dick almost furiously, feeling the creeping heat move across his body like a wildfire. The phantom illusion of your body underneath him pulses, the feeling of your cunt wet and squishing around him feels so real he might believe it if he weren’t uncomfortably self-aware of how screwed up he is, fantasising about a girl he’s never even talked to before.

Even through the wall, Levi can hear your bed rattling against the opposite wall, each slap of skin as the stranger fucks himself into you; Levi zeros in on the sounds and produces the perfect scene in his head, one that makes his dick twitch in his hand and his feet slip slightly across the wooden floor. 

His chest rises and falls heavily, his hands trembling, his balls so sensitive he’s resorted to clinging to the wall like a rock climber with one hand while he pumps his cock with the other. Listening to you being fucked stupid is going to make him cum all over himself, and for a split second, that seems fine. That would be okay.

“Goddamn. You’re tighter than I expected,” the guy says, which sends Levi over the edge. 

He groans softly at the floor and feels his whole body trembling as the coil in his stomach suddenly releases, and a string of cum shoots from the end of his cock. Levi keeps pumping, cum falling down his hand and to the floor in a grossly filthy manner, one that he’s trying his best not to stress over as he focuses all of his energy and thoughts on the hand wrapped around his cock and how badly he wishes it was your pussy gripping him instead.

When he does open his eyes, Levi blinks away the blurry tunnel vision and tries to catch his breath, now uncomfortably aware of the sticky mess covering his hand and the floor around his feet. For a second, he feels complete bliss — until the ringing in his ears subsides and he hears you whining in that pretty fucking voice you have, and the shame washes over him like a bucket of cold water.

Levi forces himself up off the wall and stares back at it, almost as if it might transform into a window for you to gape at him, the dirty eavesdropper who just had an orgasm over a daydream and the sound of his neighbour fucking some random guy. He blinks in horror.

The guy screwing you groans like an animal — a dying animal, Levi thinks bitterly, until he realises that he’s the first person to have orgasmed in the strange threesome and he isn’t even in the room. 

Although guilt is consuming him, Levi can’t commit to pulling away yet. He might as well see it through to the end now that he’s become a part of it all.

Your cunt clenches around the guy’s cock like a vice, coaxing whatever last reserves of self-restraint he has before he grunts out a loud, “Fuck!” and slams his hips into you one last time, filling the condom with cum.

You feel the warmth bulging inside of you — lucky for someone to have gotten off in this exchange. Your pussy throbs and you squirm unhappily, hoping he might keep going.

“More?” the guy asks, breathless and shocked. “For real?”

“Mm. More, I need more,” you tell him, your walls fluttering around him. “Please, please give me more—”

No, no, no, Levi thinks in a panic. Please no more! As if being subjected to listening to some guy cumming after being in your pussy was bad enough, Levi wants nothing more than for it all to be over so he doesn’t have to listen anymore. He knows he could easily put in earphones and tune you both out, but that’s not the point. 

Still, he feels a sudden rush of bitter hatred when the guy slaps your skin and makes you whine, all before laughing and pulling out. Levi hears nothing for a moment until he hears a drawer pulling open and slamming shut, and he thinks in a hot flush that he’s about to have a terribly unhappy night listening to you getting screwed again.

You watch the stranger shake his cock for a moment once the old and used condom is off, and he quickly puts on a new one while he’s still hard and admirably shoves himself back inside. Your wet warmth welcomes him back encouragingly, and there’s no trouble keeping him hard once you’ve gripped him back inside. The man shifts himself inside of you and moves in and out, his eyes trained carefully on your face as if assessing your enjoyment. 

He creeps a hand between your legs and thumbs the hood of your pussy, and your eyes flash open with surprise at the feeling of his thumb on your clit.

“My god, you’re fucking gorgeous,” he comments, and Levi curses.

This can’t go on! Levi feels his mind reeling and he refuses to take responsibility for what his body does next; he wipes his hand on his joggers and glares at the door. Taking a few strides towards it, Levi forgets the cum on the floor and grabs one of his jumpers, pulling it over his head as he grabs his five seconds of courage by the balls and swings his door open. 

The sound of you being fucked is made even more pronounced in the hallway. Levi’s never admired his other hall-mates until now, because he knows they’re all either listening in the same horror as Levi used to or they’re out somewhere missing all of the drama. Still, Levi feels his heart thumping wildly in his chest as he raises his fist, and without thinking any of it through, he bangs his hand on your door three loud times.

The sounds cease.

Levi hears a flustered “fuck!” and a confused moan, each one from a different person, and now that he’s knocked, Levi knows if he does a runner, you’ll only know it was him when his door shuts in the now uncomfortable silence. Standing in the hallway, he knows he has to live out his embarrassment and see it through. 

The stranger pulls out of you in a fluster, staring down at you with surprise. “Should we answer it?”

You crane to listen, half-hoping it was a knock on someone else’s door and not your own, but you reluctantly glance up at him in shock and pick yourself up off the bed.

“Um…” you start, flustered and scanning the floor for something to put on. You spot your dressing gown slung over the chair at your desk and reach for it, giving the guy a pointed look as he scrambles for his underwear. You hoped it wouldn’t have, but the vibe is killed rather cruelly by whoever is banging your door so loudly. 

Tying the cord around your waist, you pass by the guy with a sheepish smile and smooth a hand across his chest. In a way, the stranger is surprisingly handsome, especially considering you only picked him out for the way his hair looked. He grins after a while and grabs his shirt, holding it in his hand as he leans to kiss your lips and slither past you.

“Lemme get it,” he suggests, already making his way to the door. You let him go without protest, simply standing to the side as he reaches the door, twists the handle and pulls it open. The map of muscles in his back tense when he sees Levi standing outside.

“Levi,” he says dumbly. Levi blinks in confusion. How does he know this guy, and more importantly, how does this guy know him? The stranger seems to pick up on his blatant confusion and shifts uncomfortably, “It’s Samuel. I live in Isabel’s flat.”

Levi visibly grimaces.

This city is just too small and he hates it so much. Why the fuck did the guy fucking you have to be someone in close connection to one of his closest friends, and why the fuck did it have to be the guy involved in the sex Levi has just jerked off to?

“We met?” Levi decides to ask.

“Not officially,” mutters Samuel.

Levi ignores him and glances back into the darkness, schooling his features into disinterest with all of his strength when he sees you standing in the shadows.

The revealing V of your dressing gown attracts his attention, his eyes trained on the curving line of your breasts pushed together by your folded arms. He looks up to your neck and face, shining with a thin sheen of sweat, and then finally acknowledges your face. 

Your makeup is smudged in a way that makes Levi’s cock twitch again, but he refuses to feed in to the pleasure he so badly wants to seek at the sight of you, fucked-out and equally surprised to see him standing like a loser in your doorway. You take a single step forward in what looks like wonder.

“What…are you doing here?” Samuel asks hesitantly.

Levi remembers he’s there and glares at him. “I live next door.”

“Oh,” says Samuel.

“I don’t care that you’re fucking. Trust me, I don’t.” He’s lying. “But can you be quiet about it?”

His voice cuts deep, making Samuel flinch, but in Levi’s peripheral he sees your face twist into an amused smile, your feet shuffling across the wooden floor to arrive by Samuel’s side.

“She’s not that loud,” Samuel attempts to say, in a pathetically unenthusiastic voice. Even he must know to an extent that you’re actually extremely loud.

Levi’s brows raise. “It’s not her I’m bothered about.”

“Oh,” Samuel says again. He turns to look at you like a deer caught in the headlights, but when his face drops at the look of amusement on your face, something tells Levi that Samuel may have expected you to defend him the way he just tried to defend you. 

Samuel’s eyes narrow and he snatches himself away from the door to find his shoes and phone. “Whatever man. She’s a slut anyway, you must be used to it by now.”

Levi hums, his eyes on you as you look back at him, unmoving, unbothered. Your eyes drop suddenly to his bottoms before pulling back up with your brows raised. After looking down with reluctance, Levi spots the cum he wiped on his joggers in a smudge across his thigh and he pauses.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He can’t think of any other words.

Samuel slips his shoes back on and levels a dirty look in your direction, but you just smile sympathetically and wish him goodnight. He mutters something rude under his breath and barges past Levi on his way out, and Levi makes a point of watching Samuel go whilst trying to pretend that neither of you has just spotted what is drying to a crusty stain on his joggers.

Levi continues to stare down the hallway even when the door has slammed shut and Samuel has disappeared, but the sound of your feet shuffling on the floor makes him look back. He must be a good actor, because your brows furrow for a moment when you lock eyes, as if you aren’t sure whether or not he’s angry.

Of course, Samuel had been right. You were a loud fuck, you were a bit of a slut, and Levi is very familiar with the guests coming and going from your bedroom. But none of that matters at all now he’s here, looking at you hidden underneath a dressing gown, your lips parted with hesitance.

Levi stares at you for a second, wondering what he could possibly say to you now that the chance is right there. He should have known he’d say something stupid — Levi copies your facial expression and clicks his tongue: “I know you can actually do better than that.”

His words take you by surprise, but he watches as your wide eyes soften and your smile twists — his stomach churns, thrilled, enamoured. If he was stupid, he’d push himself into your room and kiss you, but luckily, he’s exhausted his daily dose of stupidity and fallen back into his usual state of normalcy.

“Oh, really?” you ask sarcastically. This is the first time he’s heard you talking since your shy little hello a few days ago, and without a wall between you and some dude’s dick up your pussy. 

Levi hums, weaker than before. “Him, of all people?”

“Well, I don’t pick them for their personality,” you tell him, and he blinks as he realises that you’re actually discussing the people you bring back to your room. Levi lets it sink in until it does, deep in his stomach, and he feels his neck burning.

Suddenly, Levi is uncomfortably aware of how aware you are; you know you’re loud, and you know Levi can hear every moan and cry and whimper, every thud against the wall, every gasp of breath, every boy. And something tells him that none of that is accidental.

“...Thank god for that,” he drawls finally, his gaze hardening on your own. This time, you hum, mockingly, and tilt your head while you look at him.

Levi doesn’t know how long he stands there for. All he knows is that the tension between you is so thick it’s almost choking him. He doesn’t even know if you can feel it too — the unimaginable jolt of sexual tension coiling around his body like a snake, his whole body vibrating excitedly. 

It would be so easy to move forward towards you. Levi doesn’t even think you’d refuse him. The sultry look in your eyes is inviting, enticing, and he lets his gaze wander back to the slip of skin above your breasts before he snatches his gaze back.

“I’ll be more quiet, if that’s what you’d like,” you say after a while.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just looks at you for a second, weighing his options. Then, his gaze softens and he grunts — no. Be as loud as you want.

You seem to understand, for the smile widens into a pleased grin. “Alright. Sorry, Levi.”

He prays that you didn’t just see his body flinch as you said his name. Levi grunts again and waves his hand dismissively, turning for his room before the excitement of everything makes him become stupid again. He’s done enough stupid things today, thank you!

“Night, Y/N,” he says through clenched teeth, and if he had looked back, he would have seen the smile widen to a degree he could have never even expected, the confirmation you needed being your name on his lips, a name he would have only heard had he been listening.

Levi refuses to give in to his dumb urges and leans his back against his door when it shuts closed, listening shamefully as you hesitate before closing your door behind him. Finally, he lets out an exhausted breath and closes his eyes again.

For fuck sake. He’s a moron.

A moron who wants to fuck his neighbour, and is pretty sure that you know it.

Would you let him?

Levi stops himself from groaning like a pathetic loser when he thinks of you again, this time opening your door and letting him in, slipping the gown down your arms so that your breasts fall out for him; his hands grabbing them, pushing you back on the bed you were just being fucked on; his dick slipping inside of you, your cunt clenched around him, lips on his hands, cum filling you up like a cake, pooling out of you—

Levi feels his cock twitch again. He sighs loudly. 

He’s going to need another shower. Preferably a long cold one. Hopefully cold enough to send him into shock and kill him, just to spare him from the humiliating reality that Levi Ackerman has become an infatuated sad fuck with a raging hard crush on his stunningly sexy neighbour. 

Levi groans again. Fuck.

[unequivocallyreid]

Stay With Me Till Morning

hi guys! another fic for you :) i got a little carried away at the end, but you know how it goes. this is for any munch!spencer fans 🤗

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary:

Spencer and you are co-workers, strictly co-workers, despite your feelings for him. A few nights sharing a room won’t change that, right?

warnings: mentions of body-specific insecurity, fluff, smut, oral sex (fem receiving)

wc: 3.2k

if i missed anything let me know!

One of the worst things about being a newbie, at any job, is coming into a place where connections have already been made. Working at the FBI, more specifically the BAU, was no different.

Now don’t get the wrong idea, working there was a dream for you, but there was no doubt that you were severely lacking in personal relationships compared to others. Derek and Reid had a sort of brotherly bond, JJ and Emily’s like sisters, and Hotch and Rossi’s went unspoken but still glaringly obvious. You existed in their orbit, and while you had all grown to love each other, you still felt a bit like an outsider sometimes.

Unfortunately for you, this feeling intensified whenever the topic of room sharing came up. Sure there were benefits, like having a room to yourself on occasion, but usually it just served to worsen your imposter syndrome.

The case that you were working currently, sans Rossi (he was on a book tour following his latest release), pushed this feeling to surface even more.

You all were in Upstate New York investigating a series of homicides that seemed to mimic a string of murders that had occurred 20 years ago. The town you were in was on the smaller side, so the only place you could find accommodations was a small bed and breakfast.

Said BnB did not have enough rooms available for anyone to ride solo, and with Rossi gone, Hotch and Morgan were buddied up, leaving Emily and JJ and Reid and you. Naturally, Emily and JJ bunked up together, leaving you to share a room with the boy wonder.

It’s not that you didn’t like Reid, quite the opposite actually, you liked him too much. You’ve always had a propensity for falling incredibly deeply incredibly fast, and when you met Spencer for the first time you proved you reputation correct.

Your first impression probably put him off slightly, but he was gracious enough not to show it. When Hotch introduced you, the first thing you thought was how ridiculous attractive the man in front of you was. His high cheekbones and big, brown eyes drew you in immediately. To make matters worse, he was fucking adorable. After snapping back to reality, you offered Spencer your hand, which he declined citing the pathogens and it being safer to kiss.

In one of your more impressive displays of cluelessness you said, “I think we could make that happen.”

This caused Spencer to flush and a ghost of a smile to grace Hotch’s face. Thankfully, in the last few months you had redeemed yourself slightly, developed a rapport with the doctor, and stood by hopelessly as you crush developed into a nasty little monster.

So, no sharing a room with Spencer wasn’t really an issue, but still, might just be the thing that breaks you.

~

“There’s only one fucking bed?”

You’d spoke far too soon.

After assuring Spencer you were completely fine and not at all uncomfortable with sharing a room with him, you and him walked together to your room, only to find a scene straight out of a shitty romance novel.

When Spencer heard you and noticed that there was in fact, only one bed, he immediately said, “I can sleep on the couch.”

Maybe you should’ve just agreed and saved yourself from a week of sexual frustration, but you couldn’t.

“Spence, that couch is maybe five feet long. I don’t even think I could sleep on it.”

You looked at him then to muster up some courage, “We can share the bed. We’re both adults.”

He looked slightly pained, which panicked you a bit. God, how fucking embarrassing.

“Or I can take the couch. I wont let you, but if you’re uncomfortable I can. I’m a bit shorter.”

Spencer hurried to speak, “No!”

His outburst took you by surprise but he quickly went on.

“I mean, no. I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to be at all or feel like I’m forcing you to sleep with me. Fuck, or I mean next to me-“

You cut him off before he could fall into a tailspin.

“We’ll share then.”

~

Sharing the bed had actually not been that bad for you at first. You were on your third day in New York, and you were making steady progress on the case. Hopefully, it would be wrapped up in a day or two.

Aside from the fact that you barely spent any time in the room, you had managed to stay on your side bed. The only spot of trouble was the dreams you were having, dreams about the person next to you that would turn even the worst sinner’s cheeks red. Still, Reid was acting no different, so at least you were confident you weren’t talking, or, god-forbid, moaning, in your sleep.

It had been an incredibly hard day. Not only was it freezing, but you had been outside and away from temperature controlled environments for far too long. Immediately once you got back to the Inn you were staying at, you asked Spencer if he’d mind you taking the shower first.

“I’m freezing my ass of right now. You don’t mind do you?”

“No, of course not. You know it’s kind of a superstition, but there’s some actual evidence that being cold can make you sick. I just read a study which showed 10% of people exposed to-“

You cut him off before he could finish.

“Spence, I’d love to hear about all that, but please just wait till I’m out of the shower.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

You shook off his apology as it wasn’t needed. That was one thing you didn’t get about the rest of the team; you loved hearing all the little tid bits of information that Reid let out. Yeah, he was like a literal encyclopedia at times, but it was never annoying. If anything it made you like him more. You loved the way he lit up when he told you about something he’d just read about, or read about 15 years ago. It was cute.

Getting into the shower was like a blessing. The water rolled over your cold skin and helped to loosen the muscles you’d been stressing all day. If you were bolder, or clueless to Spencer’s aversion to touch, you’d ask him to give you a shoulder rub. Your mind wondered off to where else he might touch you, but that was just wishful thinking.

After spending a near gratuitous amount of time in the shower, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. Only once you’d started drying off did you realize in you haste to warm up you’d forgotten to bring your sleep clothes into the bathroom with you. Now, you had to walk out in a tiny, hotel towel right in front of Reid. Sure, it was the start of a few of your fantasies, but in real life the idea seemed mortifying.

As quietly as possible, to not draw attention to yourself, you opened the bathroom door. With one hand gripping the point where the towel connected with itself, you tried to tiptoe unnoticed to your suitcase.

“Y/n?”

You looked up to see Spencer watching your frame like a hawk. As he took in your damp, barely covered figure, you wished to yourself that the lights in the room weren’t so fucking bright.

“I, uh, forgot to bring my clothes in,” and with that, you raced back into the bathroom to change.

After taking a minute to collect yourself, you make your way out of the bathroom again. The room is, thankfully, much darker and you see Reid tucked into his side of the bed. You climb in next to him.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was weird. I, I won’t forget my clothes again.”

“It didn’t, Y/n, don’t worry.”

With that, you both tried your best to fall asleep and put the day behind you.

~

When you wake up, it’s decidedly not light out and you are decidedly not alone on your side of the bed. One of Spencer’s arms is over your waist, holding you against his body. Still, you don’t know why you’ve woken up.

You tend to be a pretty heavy sleeper, and you know that some light spooning wasn’t enough to wake you up. As you lay awake, trying to figure out why you are up and what to do next you feel Spencer move behind you.

Now, you definitely know what woke you. Spencer, who could barely look you in the eye after seeing you in a towel, was grinding into while you slept. Obviously, he was asleep too, but that didn’t stop the shock of it all from hitting you like a fucking bus. He was silent aside from the occasional whimper, which sent shockwaves straight to your core each time he let one slip.

Despite this, again, being the start to a few of your own wet dreams, you were pretty literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. You felt like you’d be taking advantage of Reid if you didn’t wake him, but if you did you know he’d just about die from embarrassment. Or, worse, he’d think that you somehow executed all of this in a sick ploy. Not likely, but still a source of anxiety.

It took you a few minutes to get your head on straight, what with the burning feeling brewing in your abdomen, but eventually you realized that waking him up was pretty much the only thing you could do.

“Spence,” you said while gently shaking his shoulder.

“Spence, love, you gotta wake up.”

You were turned toward him now and saw his eyes open a crack, “Y/n? What’s wrong what’s goin-“

The realization of your situation also hit him like a truck, which was sort of comforting because at least you weren’t alone in the feeling.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Jesus, I, I can’t- Fuck I’m so sorry.”

He went to spring out of bed, but your hand grabbed his arm before he could.

“Spence, it’s okay I promise. Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

“No, no it’s not. You don’t even like me that way and I was all over you-“

You cut him off when you heard this, “Spence, what do you mean I don’t like you like that?”

“You heard me right? I said your name?”

The world stops spinning, “What?”

“Oh, oh no. Look, I’m so sorry. I’ll go sleep in one of the cars. Fuck, I’m so-”

“Spencer stop. Please stop apologizing.”

It’s like an old Western showdown for a moment, the two of you staring at each other without making a move.

“Were you dreaming about me?”

He nodded, about to speak and likely offer more apologies. But, before he gets the chance you push your lips to meet his.

The kiss is soft and gentle. At first, his lips don’t move against yours, and you start to pull back, worried you read the situation wrong. Fortunately, before your lips could even part from his, he’s pulled you back in. His hands find the side of your face and his lips pressed into yours with a bruising intensity. Slowly, his hands moved to your waist, holding you in place.

The feeling rushing through you was unlike any you’d ever experienced. His lips molded to yours so perfectly it was almost unbelievable. If you’re hands weren’t so preoccupied by his hair, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. With a move you didn’t think he’d possibly pull, Spencer bit into your lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to press further into the kiss, tracing your tongue with his.

Before you could fall completely into the kiss you pulled away to ask, “Spence, are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since the day we met, Y/n.”

With that, he pulled you back in. His hands moved more surely on you, dipping below your shirt. The feeling of his skin on yours sent shockwaves through your body. You moved to take off his shirt in turn, desperate to feel even more of him. He was relentless, breaking free from your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and over your exposed collar bone.

You felt needier than ever, and evidently so did he. In another move you didn’t expect (maybe you should throw your expectations out the window at this point) he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. With you straddling him, he moved to take your shirt off. Insecurity grabbed hold of you before you could push it away.

You stilled his hands in yours, “I haven’t let anyone see me like this in a long time. Just, please don’t be disappointed by what you see.”

His face morphed into one so full of love that it made your teeth ache.

“You’re my dream, Y/n. You’ll never, ever disappoint me.”

You let go of his hands and they resumed their previous journey, pushing up your shirt and letting that part of you be bare to him. Admittedly, you had to fight the urge to cover yourself, but when you saw his face you knew it was pointless. He was ogling you, not offensively, but more like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him.

“You’re so, so beautiful.”

His words didn’t erase the thoughts you had, but they certainly made them easier to ignore. Moving up from your waist, he went to cup your breast, fingers playing with your nipple which made your back arch into him. He took the opportunity to flip you over so you were laying underneath him. The weight of his body over you was heavenly. You felt him press himself into your center through his sweatpants. There were just thin layers of clothes between you now.

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been dying to.”

You’re stunned from words but you manage to nod your head. As he moved down your body, he took your shorts and panties with you, leaving you completely exposed. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared of the feeling or his reaction to you. With Spencer, you felt completely at home.

You felt him kiss down your things, teasing you in a way that made you feel completely crazy. His breath ghosted over your core, but he still hadn’t made contact with where you needed him most.

“Spencer, please.”

Hearing your voice must have broken his resolve. He dove in like a man starved. In the past, you hadn’t found yourself enjoying the presence on a man’s head between your legs. Not that you had much experience, but the men who had you in that way always seemed to treat it as a means to an end. One of the two boyfriends you’d had refused to go down on you at all, and the other wouldn’t unless you were completely shaved. Safe to say you didn’t feel like you were missing much.

Everything was different with Spencer. He licked into you there was no place he’d rather be. His tongue over traced over your cunt as he tried to find all the places that drove you wild, and god did he. The noises in the room were obscene, from the moans falling from your lips to the sound of his driving you to an orgasm.

You locked your hands in his hair, grinding into his face without even noticing that you were. You were so close, and you found the final push in his fingers. God, his beautiful fingers.

His mouth was on your clit as he pushed two digits into you, curling in before pulling out, over and over until your legs begin to shake. His unoccupied hand pressed on your lower stomach, building up the feeling until you burst.

You repeated a mantra of his name as you came harder than you can ever remember coming before. The sensation took you out for a minute, but when you came back down and looked down at Spencer, you saw him staring at you in awe and completely soaked.

“Fuck, Y/n. Have you, have you done that before? I think that was the sexist thing I’ve ever seen.”

You were confused for a moment, wondering why he’d think you hadn’t orgasmed before. That was before you felt the damp fabric of the bed beneath you.

“Oh! Oh god, uh, no I haven’t. I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Don’t apologize for that, Y/n. Fuck, I’d spend the rest of my life between your legs if it meant I could see that again.”

The constat praise falling from him had you noticeably riled up, and you pulled him up, back on top of you.

“Spencer, please. I want you. I want you inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/n.”

He made incredibly quick work of his own pants, freeing himself. Your mouth dropped open as you took him in. He was big, the biggest you’d been with, and he was pretty. You would have drooled if it wasn’t for his lips pressing into yours. He ran his middle finger through your folds before grasping himself. He followed his own path and ran his member through your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”

The pet name made you even more desperate, “Please, Spence. Fuck, please.”

He put you out of your misery, sinking into you in one motion. You had to adjust to his size, but the feeling of him inside you, as close to you as possible had you reeling. You bucked your hips up, urging him to move.

He gave you exactly what you wanted, pushing into you at a perfect pace as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

You were overcome and all you could mutter was “thank you, thank you, thank you” in time with each of his thrusts. When he started to push into you harder, you couldn’t help but squeeze down on him.

His hips stalled, “You’re gonna make me come, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight”

You let your hands take down his back, “Please, Spence. Want you to, want to feel you come in me.”

His pace picked up, and you could feel how close he was. Still he wasn’t done. His fingers again found your clit and rubbed circles on it.

“Need to feel you come on me first baby. Need you to come.”

His words made your head spin. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming again, just as intense as the first time. You pulsed around him and it pushed him over the edge. You felt him come inside you, filling you completely.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, but you froze immediately after saying them, worried that you had ruined everything. But, just as he had done before, Spencer quelled your worries.

“I love you too. God, I love you.”

~

The next morning was bliss. You woke in Spencer’s arms, and let him into you again. The sex was slow and you each let the three words spill uninhibited.

When you went downstairs, ready to finish the case, you were met with the sheepish faces of your team.

Derek spoke first, “I’d say congratulations if you both weren’t so loud last night.”

While you were mortified, watching the rest of the team hold back their chuckles, you couldn’t help but agree that this was all a moment to celebrate.

End

let me know what you think!!

[betbeton]

𓆱 Menace to my Heart!

Things HQ Men did to Ruin Sex

Long Version

Warnings - Various 'Vanilla' Kinks

18 + Minors DNI

·GN Reader·

·A/N- i just wanted to make short drabbles for the hcs that basically got my account off the ground. i'm really grateful anyone enjoys my writing since writing is my favourite hobby·

Original post

・❥・ Masterlist

⪧ Sugawara Koushi

You two were in the middle of the euphoric pleasure you could only derive from each others bodies, your arms draped over his shoulders as your fingers gently tugged on his light locks. Eyes lidded as your head tilted down in pleasure a soft moan of his name leaving your lips when he brushed his nose against your cheek as your orgasm ripped though your body. His hands smoothing over your skin groping at any bit of skin he could reach as he chased his own orgasm. When his stomach tensed and his cock leaked out cum as he came Suga couldn't help the urge to sink his teeth into your skin, so he gave into it, teeth harshly grabbing the skin of your cheek as they sunk into it. When he finally came down from his high and unlatched himself from your cheek it became glaringly obvious that the indents in your cheek were going to leave a nasty bruise. Even if it didn't end up being all that visible the depth of the indents and the skin puffing angrily with each passing moment that he gazed at your face set the fear of god in the man, as a result he didn't have the heart to tell you. Thus he waited for you to find it the next morning when you were getting ready for work... As a result he slept in the guest room until the massive bruise and ache in your cheek dissipated.

⪧ Hinata Shoyo

Your boyfriend clung to your body while tears streamed down his face and apologies blubbered from his lips as you leaned over the sink flushing his cum from your eye. Standing up with an unreadable expression gazing at his sad face, looking very close to a distraught puppy, you couldn't help the defeated sigh that left your lips. The situation was absurd really, but he was your favourite person for a reason you couldn't deny comforting him even as your eye puffed and swelled in irritation. Which resulted in you two sitting on the tile floor of your bathroom his red face tucked into your neck as you rubbed at his back, vision blurring as your eye protested at being held open after being cleaned. Soft reassuring words leaving your lips as he blubbered and cried out apologies the sticky feeling of snot against your skin causing a grimace to settle on your face, but it was worth it to comfort Hinata. He had you wrapped around his finger staring at him even now with a grimace on your face and a swollen eye like he had strung the moon and stars with his own hands. With one last sigh and a pat to his back you pushed at his shoulder, being met with his red tear streaked face. Pushing hair from his forehead you planted a kiss on his forehead mumbling against his sweaty skin, a deep belly laugh leaving his lips.

"Nice shot, maybe try for both next time so I have an excuse to call in to work!"

⪧ Tsukishima Kei

Slowly blinking as you stared at your partner his bored expression mirroring your own as the voice of Hank Green droned out from his laptop, spouting off news about a new dinosaur discovery as he spoke to the host of the podcast. With a deep inhale you placed a hand on the lanky blonde's shoulder exhaling in an exasperated sigh.

"Is this seriously your sex playlist?"

You were met with an incredulous look as he placed his hands on your hips, gently pushing in a fake threat to push you from his lap. His voice ringing out in a bratty tone as a lighthearted argument burned to life.

"Do you have a problem with it?"

Scoffing as your face twisted with surprise you replied in kind, matching his energy.

"Yes! Dinosaur podcasts are almost as bad as fucking to classical music!"

The eye roll he threw your way had you hoisting a fist in threat to bop him in the head.

"No it's not, you're being so dramatic."

It is safe to say after that exchange you two didn't end up having good sex. You did however end up listening to his entire playlist later that night after you two fucked in tense petty silence, though you would never admit that little fact to him when he asked you what you got up to after he left. The knowing look on his smug face made it abundantly clear he knew your little secret thankfully he never let it spill, until the next time you brought up his terrible sex playlist.

⪧ Nishinoya Yuu

The first thing you registered as your vision focused again and the black dots at the corners of your eyes dissipated was Noya screeching on the phone to Asahi about how he killed you. Mumbling out his name earned another shriek from the short man as he bid his friend a hasty goodbye before turning his full attention to you. Blinking slowly as he anxiously filled you in on how he had gotten to excited and bashed his hips into your own which resulted in you going head first into the wooden headboard. Turning as he spoke you noticed a large indent in the dark wood, concern over how you were going to explain this to your flatmate overshadowing Noya babbling about how he thought you were dead. Reassuring him you felt fine only brought more concern to him, which resulted in him hastily dressing you two and dragging you to hospital. It's safe to say you were shocked when the doctor said you had a mild concussion, you could have sworn your partner was starring in a telenovella with the gasp that left him. He refused to allow you to do anything the entire ride home or when you got into the house, insisting he make it up to you. He also kept waking you up ever half hour that night despite the doctor's reassurance that you would be fine to sleep, and should only be worried if pain or dizziness occured when awake. Noya became a slow stroke king after this experience.

⪧ Oikawa Tooru

As you hoisted your leg to clean the cum leaking from your ass Oikawa droned on about how it was your fault he came so early, and how he could have totally lasted longer if your hole wasn't like a vice around his dick. Rolling your eyes as you threw the tissue paper away planting your hands on your hips as you stood in front of the complaining man, reaching a hand out when there was a lull in his ranting you tugged on his hair.

"Listen quick shot, it's fine you came early we were both virgins till like five minutes ago."

The dramatic gasp that left his as he placed a hand on his chest like you had just punched him was comical.

"Quick shot! Maybe you should loosen that bear trap you call an ass next time so you don't strangle the cum from my dick!"

Releasing his hair you could't help doubling over in laughter as you dropped onto the floor. The fit of giggles causing you to miss the absolutely stinky face Oikawa threw your way.

"Fine fine, whatever you say one pump McGee."

That comment set him off into another petty rant as he stomped around your laughing body crumpled up on the carpet. Thankfully you lived alone so no-one was at risk of walking in on this absolutely absurd situation. Wiping tears from your eyes you giggled out a reply to his fuming.

"Okay okay, I get it maybe next time you'll last for two pumps instead!"

"Thank yo- HEY!"

⪧ Matsukawa Issei

Soft groans heated the skin of your shoulder as Matsukawa pressed open mouthed kisses against your skin. His hips gently hitting against the back of your thighs as he fucked into the slick pocket hole he had created with them thanks to the copious amounts of lube poured onto your sex and legs. Reaching a hand back to thread your fingers through his locks had a groan rumbling from deep within his chest, large hands grabbing larger handfuls of the muscle that made up your thighs. Soft praises of how good you were to him and how warm your skin was against his cock leaving his lips like a babbled prayer of a damned soul. You thought nothing of his actions when he manhandled you onto your side so you were facing him, leaning up your head to kiss him as he hoisted up your leg. Lips a hair away from locking with his own when you felt pressure against your unprepared ass, the pressure of his thick cock head breaching your hole sent a spike of pain racing up your spine as you swung your fist clocking him in the side of his head.

"Ah shit! Sorry babe! I was trying to spice things up!"

Waving your fist around in a vague threat as he rubbed at his head you angrily yelled at him.

"Well maybe warn me next time so I can prep beforehand!"

⪧ Hanamaki Takahiro

Stomping into your shared home you tugged off your shoes not bothering to set them by the door as you stomped into your home, armed with your trainers in hand as you approached your partner. Fully intent on ending the man's whole career before it even begins. The lazy grin on his face as he greeted you from his reclined position on the sofa only made your blood boil more as you threw one of your shoes at him, hitting him square in the chest.

"Ow! I didn't take you for a sadist, babe."

Raising your other shoe in warning you fixed a deadly glare his way.

"Care to tell me why Mattsun asked me about my scent kink at work? You are the only person I ever told about that! I should have known you would tell him!"

Throwing your other shoe which he dodged by standing from the sofa, hands held up in surrender as he laughed nervously.

"Ah babe, I had to tell him. We don't keep secrets, it's the secret to a healthy relationship!"

You couldn't help the exasperated laugh that left your lips. Your borderline unhinged laughter brought a concerned look to Makki's face as he slowly approached you as if you were a wild animal.

"You're lucky I'm not mad, but the next time you spill my secrets to him I'm telling him you're into being cucked."

The excitement that quickly replaced his hesitant and concerned expression had you anticipating your next day alone with Matsukawa.

"Go ahead! After all I'd love to see Mattsun fuck your hole."

"You're lucky you're cute, Makki."

⪧ Iwaizumi Hajime

The moment of intimacy was unexpected it started when you crawled into bed beside Iwaizumi after coming home late from work, the man lazily reaching out for you in his sleepy haze. Strong arms curling around your body as he slanted his lips against your neck planting lazy open mouthed kisses. Tugging the duvet over your body as you nestled into his affections fingers rubbing at his scalp as soft sighs of pleasure left your lips. As his hands wondered from the gentle hold around your body, working your out of your pyjamas and freeing his half hard cock from the confines of his briefs. Groping at your body as he rutted against your thigh working himself into a greedy state words dripping with the thick tendrils of sleep and arousal as his husky voice rasped out against your neck.

"Please let me fuck you, been thinking about it all day even at work."

Never one to deny him you tugged at his short locks urging him to meet you in a sloppy open mouth kiss as you gasped out a reply into his mouth.

" 'M all yours for the taking."

Those were the only words he needed to blindly grope around the nightstand behind him for the small bottle of lube you two kept there for your spur of the moment intimacy. As he grunted in victory detaching his lips from yours as you leaned into his body hooking a leg around his hips to give him easier access to your hole. A shiver of anticipation rocking your body as the little cap snapping open rung out in the silence of your dark room, groaning against his skin urging him to work quicker as the liquid squirted into his palm. The chemical smell should have set off warning bells, but you two were too absorbed in each other to notice. The only inkling something might be wrong was the odd chill the normally warming lube brought to your skin as he smoothed his fingers against your puckered hole. A yelp of surprise as his fingers breached your hole halted Iwaizumi in his quest to loosen your hole for his cock. The stinging sensation you whined about settling into your sensitive skin had him tugging his fingers from your hole and flicking on the bedside lamp, grabbing the bottle he had picked up only to reveal the portable hand sanitizer you had bought the other day.

[arttrampbelle]

Shang tsung doesn't need to be a "good guy" to be sympathetic or do nice or "good" deeds.

Y'all should understand that not everyone needs to be a hero to be redeemed.

That's some bullshit propaganda that y'all tend to fall for.

It's like that feeling of "if you pray to jesus,all you're sins in OUR eyes will be forgiven" type indoctrinated shit. Like no shade thrown,even as someone who is spiritual myself. I find people thinking that a villain in a story should become a hero in order to be redeemed,kinda suspicious.

Shang tsung,to me,has ALWAYS BEEN NUANCED. And already had benevolent qualities and traits. Y'all just only see one damn part of it because the writers suck at showing them properly.

Not to mention if a character isn't obnoxiously nice or mean,y'all don't pay attention to them.

It's like most of mk fans I've noticed,at least as of late. Feels like I'm talking to 3yr olds in media literacy.

So no. Shang tsung needs to be a NEUTRAL CHARACTER. not good,not evil,just self serving and even quite helpful as a tournament master as he is supposed to fucking be.

He is supposed to be that "keep your friends close,keep you enemies closer" type. He is the "the enemy of my enemies are my friends" type. He's scary intelligent,cunning,a master martial artist,a brilliant alchemist,and one badass mofo you do not wanna cross.

But most of all,he is courteous,a gracious host on his island,and his punishments are as great as his rewards. He does keep his end of the bargain,but he also gets compensation.

If anything you need to worry about earthrealms warriors more than him. Half of them now(due to piss poor writing) are hiding behind heroic deeds and false statements of peace yet they have unclean hands too.

With Shang tsung you know what you are dealing with,it's on the table. If you cant read the obvious,you are indeed a foolish one.

No matter what iteration of shang tsung you have. One thing is clear,made clear,and that is when you deal with him. You deal with the devil so to speak.

So if you're not smart nor prepared. That's on your ass honey. Not his. Do not blame him for your stupidity.

But if you know how to play the game,play chess with the serpent. And know these archetypes. Then you may have a better shot. But that's all on you.

Either way,in your favor or not. Do not blame him for telling you exactly what is needed to be said,not what you wanna hear. Honeyed words or not,there's always a sliver of truth and bitter pill of truth in his words. And he's good at making either people hate his guts or bow and worship him.

THAT IS WHY HE'S DANGEROUS. not because of magic,or experiments and other trival bullshit.

Nah.

It's because shang tsung is good at talking. Good at trades and making you believe whatever is what he wants you to see.

Even if it may go against him. He wants you to fuck up,get angry at him,attack,be unbalanced,so he can fuck your shit right up!

Holy shit this mans whole ass moveset is zoning and keeping you in a certain place in the stage even!

It's part of his whole damb character.

I could go on and on. But do not blame to serpent for telling you information for questions you ask him. You're the one who chose to bite his apple of enlightenment and knowledge so to speak.

Which is why the gods,titans,etc want these kombatants,warriors to be stupid. So they are easy to control,to get what they want.

Like it's glaringly obvious that mortal kombats story has these type of tropes and symbolism in it. But people are too blind,for various reasons. To see it.

I could get deep. It's a videogame,i know. It is what it is.

But the more i look at mk12/mk1 shang tsung. The more i feel its a missed opportunity to showcase these themes better for him.

Like holy shit dude. Shang tsung pointing out the hypocrisy of the gods. And whispers in our earthrealm warriors ears. And maybe convincing a few to join his side. Or even better. Our heroes,kung lao and mortal raiden to question liu kang and not blindly follow like fucking idiots. Sure just trust this dude right? Bruh.

Shang tsung is the only one with a brain once again. And i hate them making everyone else so stupid to make him seem better in the shithole plot of theirs. If you can call it a plot.

It burns me,that it's a waste of potential.

But i digress.

Anyways. Shang tsung,way more than an evil conjurer of tricks my dudes. Waaaaaay fucking more.

[aroaceconfessions]

cw: religion, specifically purity culture in evangelical Christianity and the miserably inadequate sex ed that comes along with it

Being an aroace teen with no libido in the midst of purity culture is WILD, because the youth pastor will be going off about saving yourself for marriage and only dating fellow Christians and not looking at porn and whatever, and meanwhile I'm just sitting in the back of the room drawing on notebook paper and wishing I had more snacks.

Like??? In hindsight it's GLARINGLY obvious that I am and always have been aroace. But back then I legitimately didn't understand how anyone could possibly feel romantic or sexual attraction. I never felt "broken" or anything -- I thought other people were the weird ones. I thought that having crushes or being sexually attracted to someone was largely made up for the sake of adding drama to books and movies, and that people couldn't possibly be that way in real life, because I wasn't that way and I was totally normal, right? I just kind of assumed that one day I (afab) would fall in love with a man and we'd get married and have kids and ride off into the sunset together, because that's the picture the church always painted for me.

I'm an adult now. I've deconverted from my parents' religion. I've accepted my identity as a childfree aroace person who may or may not be cis (still working on that part). I've actually EDUCATED myself about other peoples' sexualities and gender identities, as well as things like basic bodily hygiene and pregnancy, which nobody ever taught me about in any meaningful amount of detail. Fuck the system that kept me ignorant and made it easy for me to judge other people for having basic, perfectly natural desires. I feel like I've FINALLY woken up to the fact that I am an individual, who's allowed to have opinions and interests and wants and goddamn emotions. I can be an ally to my queer friends and use their correct names and pronouns and such without feeling like I'm sinning or betraying God or whatever bullshit that religion wanted me to believe. Literally just finding that one little label for myself led me down a path towards FEELING LIKE AN ACTUAL HUMAN BEING. And while I've definitely still got a ways to go, I am so incredibly grateful for all the progress that I've made so far.

Education on these topics is so fucking important. For EVERYBODY. And I desperately hope that someday it'll become the norm, so that no more kids are failed as badly as I was.

Submitted July 8, 2023

[seafearing]

@palmviolet this question was just too good (and difficult bcos of it) which is why i have been thinking about it for like six days. so sorry for this absolutely unhinged essay you are getting, feel free to. ignore lol

1 in the bleak midwinter, season 2, episode 6

this takes the number one spot because it's one i really remember hitting me upon watching it for the first time. his grave that's been dug out for him for the whole episode without him realizing it, then the acceptance in the mud and the field, the sequence where he actually falls into the grave with the dead bodies on top, i did fucking think he had died for a second there. and then he has to crawl out of it, and. then the realization that he has to keep going is what breaks him, and how that tells so much about his character and how it gets built up on and mirrored constantly the coming years.

oops this got long sorry i am entirely normal about this television series

2 did polly send you, season 6 episode 6

i can't not have this scene high up here. the symbolism throughout, with the crow, the fire, and the horse, his hallucination of his daughter and at this moment, imagining polly as well despite saying that polly would never visit him in his dreams again, that torn ugly heart of family, love and brutality, betrayal

and the sentimentality of spreading all these mementos of his loved ones in the caravan where he intends to die, like a kind of perverted version of him saying to campbell "i have my family". and alfie asking him, when will he stop, and "when i find the man i can't defeat", and that turned on its head and being manipulated into becoming the man he can't defeat, myself talking to myself about myself truly, as well as, most glaringly, the whole mental illness of it all. and, just i don't know i found it good storytelling not to have the main character that's struggled with mental health and suicidal ideation for the entirety of the series, die of suicide at the end for a shock ending of sorts. like i am so very glad that wasn't the twist in it all.

and then the continuation of this scene to the end. him with the gun in his hand once again, that addiction where he feels like god. and this time he doesn't pull the trigger, but it was never about pulling the trigger, it was having the power of being the one to choose. and they end it with him riding away with the white horse encased in fire. the obvious symbolism with how everything started with him arriving on the black horse, and also the mirror of how he blew up his house and walked away from it, repeated at the end. like sorry but this is poetry to me.

3 now you've seen me, season 1 episode 5

this was such a brutal and haunting scene that i really remember well from those early seasons. one of the few times we really see tommy lose it like this. used by the police much like he was used in the war, and then he snaps. and that betrayal, again. they were supposed to come, but they didn't come, the cavalry. and the vulnerability that he has afterwards, you see that it breaks him. that unavailable, closed off man he's become after the war, and you feel like, this is what was hiding underneath it all, these raw guts, the splattered, caved in skull. "now you've seen me," he says to grace, but he's also saying that to the audience. i do really like that their romance as well is always marked by them seeing this violence, the brutality in one another. "this one looks like it was killed by a wild fucking animal," and she marries him.

4 what fucking line am i supposed to have crossed, season 3 episode 6

i can't also not-mention this. i really enjoy pretty much all the characters in peaky blinders, but alfie is truly a wild one. he's sold tommy out again, and this huge rant he goes on after being confronted about it, it's just simply beautiful and so multi-layered that i feel too stupid to analyze it. just something about him unleashing this self-justified anger at tommy thinking he's above it all, and then to go, more softly: "i did not know about your boy, though." also the propensity of tommy always going back to him for more betrayal, just like he went back to grace after she betrayed him. this season, it doesn't even occur to him that alfie might have betrayed him (again): he interrogates his family, first. insane.

5 he just listened. and now he has no face, season 5 episode 4

god i love season 5, and this episode in particular. this whole sequence where the swan dies, in this episode where tommy keeps seeing his dead wife. the whole sequence is just, encapsulating love, betrayal and violence. lizzie going to hold tommy's hand as they watch the ballet, aberama proposing to polly, the reveal of linda and her raw confrontation of the violence and control, fuck. and then polly being the one to pull the trigger, and the swan, she does die. and the whole sequence that unravels afterwards with linda on the table is like something! out of a fucking renaissance painting!! it makes me unhinged!!

nooo and i didn't even include that sequence at the dinner table in s6 where the camera swiwels between the participants, just the cinematography and decisions they make in this show. prove it with your body. wait let me redo this whole thing i'm not doing it justice nooo who cares about season 1 (i do)

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Connection

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Pairing: barista!Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)

Summary: Mike makes good on a promise to take you somewhere nice for the weekend.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI!!! (I know, it's real!) fingering, oral (m receiving), (protected) p-in-v sex (spooning, doggy and proneboning, god, these sluts don't even look at each other), a little too-soon-moment (though not the one you would expect) and Mike being silly and referring to himself as a horny slut.

Now that you're all thoroughly warned... Enjoy!

A/N: Alright! I had this done DAYS ago. Weeks, possibly, at this point... But I kept forgetting to post it because uni and life and laksdjfalsdkf why must it be like this?

This is formally the last part of the Coffee + Cats saga. I know, sad right? (I'm a little sad.) And I just want to thank everyone who's followed along for their love and support and the overwhelming amount of cat pictures and videos I have received! ❤️ A very special thanks to @geralts-yenn for putting the idea of barista!Mike in my brain that marked the beginning of this incredible journey of cockblocking Mike.

And because I am me, and I had such a blast writing this... Is it a surprise to anyone that I have 2 bonus chapters/drabbles planned?

If you like this fic, please let me know 🥰 and reblog so that others may see it too! <3

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @mayloma @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @peyton-warren @livisss @ylva-syverson @sweetandgentlecreature

You’ll have to take Mike’s enthusiastic lips latching on to your neck for an answer, because you’re fairly sure it’s the only one you’re going to get. As he sucks, licks and nibbles on your skin, his hand travels down your body.

You don’t mind that this is where you win: Mike’s patience runs out as soon as he feels how wet you are, and you can’t help but chuckle when he softly swears under his breath. He immediately slips two fingers into your pussy, curling them up to find that sweet spot that makes you see stars. It only takes you seconds to figure out that he’s good, paying close attention to your reactions, teasing you with soft kisses to your neck and those nibbles on your earlobe that make you go just a little wild. Apparently, he also knows that ‘don’t stop’ means ‘keep doing exactly that’ and not ‘please change your approach to the most violent thing imaginable’.

For a minute, you think you hate him for his skill, but how could you ever really hate a guy who makes you cum like that, within minutes?

“Fuck, Mike,” you sigh as you melt into his arms, your walls still clenching around his fingers, “that was amazing.”

If it hadn’t already become glaringly obvious throughout the day, it would have been impossible to miss now: Mike thrives on praise and validation. He contently buries his face in your neck, humming softly as he keeps kissing you – he’s truly adorable, and sweet, and kind, and handsome, and… he deserves a reward.

Sharp teeth sink into his soft bottom lip when your fingers wrap around his cock. Now you’re the one not wasting any time, giving him a few gentle, slow strokes before dragging his sweatpants down as far as you can while you get on your knees. Mike is right there with you, helpfully offering assistance in the ‘getting him naked’-department.

With a grin on your face that you don’t doubt is entirely unsexy, you drag his sweatpants all the way down – still helped along by Mike, who helpfully scoots up a little – and sit in between his legs. Carefully, you lick the salty bead of precum off the tip of his cock – it’s enough to make his abs twitch, making you chuckle. Then, you lock your eyes on his and revel in Mike’s blatant, wide-eyed shock as you swallow him all the way down without hesitation.

“F-fuck, Sweetcheeks!” It’s almost a protest, the way he sputters and stammers something about taking it easy. He doesn’t want to cum, he wants you to feel good, this was supposed to be about you. Yawn. You are enjoying this, does he know that? “Baby,” you say, a warning hidden in your tone, “shush. I love doing this, especially if you get a little loud for me, okay?”

It doesn’t look like he believes you; he looks at you with confusion and suspicion in his eyes. By now he really should have caught on to the idea that you’re nothing like those horrible exes he has… Right? Maybe you should just ignore that look in his eyes and keep going. Would that work? Eh… Only one way to find out.

You slowly move up and down his length, reveling in the delightful moans that escape Mike. He’s easy to tease. His soft whines as your mouth leaves his cock and your hand takes its place while you lightly kiss the inside of his thighs are proof of that. The featherlight touch of your lips makes him squirm and beg to take him into your mouth again, but just as you’re about to do that, he stops you and pulls you up until he can plant a firm kiss on your lips again.

“I want you,” he mutters against your lips, “right now.”

“You wanted me twenty minutes ago,” you chuckle. Before you know it, you’re on your stomach, with Mike pinning you to the mattress.

“I wanted you six weeks ago.” He bites your earlobe, making you shriek. When he does it again, it sends a shiver down your spine. “Besides, I don’t think I’m the only horny slut in this room.”

“Oh, please refer to yourself as a horny slut more often!” you laugh as you move against his slacking grip on your wrist, taking his hand in yours.

“Yeah, yeah, I promise,” Mike says before kissing your neck, “now turn around, please?”

“Actually,” you say hesitantly, “I’m kinda comfortable like this.” Mike doesn’t seem to think that the depraved thought you considered it to be, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. As he pulls you closer, you feel his cock against your ass, and you wiggle your hips against him. To tease him? You’re beyond that at this point. For good measure? To make him finally hurry the fuck up? You know what? That last one actually sounds plausible… And it makes Mikey’s comment from before one hundred percent right: He’s not the only horny slut in the room.

“Forgive me for asking,” Mike mumbles, “but do I have to grab a condom, or…”

Now, the correct answer to that question is ‘yes’. “I’m on the pill.” The correct answer to that question is ‘yes’. “And I’m clean.” The correct answer to that question is ‘yes’. “And if you are, too, then…” The. Correct. Answer. To. That. Question. Is. ‘Yes’. “But the real question is…” Oh, just tell the man to grab protection! “Are you going to last without?” Mean and unnecessary…

And somehow incredibly effective. “I feel that shouldn’t be the primary concern,” Mike chuckles, with no sign of embarrassment to his voice, “but it’s a valid point, unfortunately.”

You whine when the warmth of his body disappears for a second, and you watch Mike as he pulls a box of condoms from the drawer in the nightstand.

“You’re fast,” you laugh when it only takes him a few short moments to put the thing on.

“I feel ‘years of practice’ would be totally the wrong answer here,” Mike says as he joins you on the bed again, spooning you like he did before. “For what it’s worth, now that I’m here with you, I regret everything else I’ve ever done.”

“Don’t,” you whisper. “I’m just glad I’m here with you now. After everything else. You know… Those years and years of practice.” The chuckle you let out turns into a soft gasp as Mike lines up behind you.

“Finally here with you,” he corrects you as he slowly pushes forward, leaving you gasping, moaning louder in his arms as he inches his way into your drenched core. Mike softly kisses your neck and shoulders until he stops moving, then nestles comfortably against your back for a while. “This is comfy.”

You have to agree; it’s extremely comfy and so, so sweet, and you are so crazy about this silly guy and… and you’re completely impatient to finally feel him move. He laughs triumphantly when you tell him that. “I told you I was going to make you beg for it.”

He did. He really did exactly that and now that he’s kept his promise… Only he doesn’t feel he’s kept his promise just yet, because what you just did wasn’t quite begging as far as he’s concerned. Oh, for fuck’s sake! “Fuck me, Mike. Please!”

“That’s more like it,” he says – no doubt with a massive grin on his stupid, stupid face. When he moves, you gasp loudly. He’s rough, possessive, digging his fingers into your hips, and his teeth briefly into your shoulder. In no time, you’re turned onto your stomach, and he leaves you for a second, dragging you onto your knees before slamming into you again from behind, a hand between your shoulder blades pressing your chest down onto the mattress as he grinds his hips into you.

Holding back your moans is impossible – and unnecessary. There’s no one around to hear you. Even the neighbors aren’t within earshot! And any unlucky passerby’s that manage to hear what you’re up to are likely trespassing, anyway, so screw them. Almost every moan, squeal and whine makes Mike chuckle softly under his breath.

You shriek in surprise when Mike stops and pulls your legs out from under you, and he flops on top of you before littering your neck and shoulders with kisses.

“Mikey!” you laugh when he starts what you first think is a game of footsie, somehow – it turns out he’s just trying to reposition legs, and you’re not helping.

When he finally manages, and slips back into you, you let out a long moan. There’s no reason to be disappointed because he’s slowed down. In fact, every move he makes feels like it’s exactly what you need – and you don’t have to say a word. It’s like…

“God, it’s like you were made for me, Sweetcheeks,” Mike moans into your ear. Yes. That’s exactly what it feels like. All of his insecurities about not being good enough for you seem to be gone now, and rightfully so.

“I love you.” No. What? You didn’t mean to say that – but that doesn’t mean you don’t mean what you say. Get it? Maybe ‘within six weeks of your first date, during the first time you have sex with the guy’ is a little early – but that doesn’t matter anymore because it’s out now. You can’t even convince yourself he didn’t hear it, because he freezes. Well… Not quite that. It’s a fairly recognizable stutter-y kind of movement, actually. So not only do you say something utterly stupid, but also at the worst possible moment.

“Impeccable timing, Sweetcheeks,” Mike laughs softly as he pulls out. “I know I’m kinda leaving you hanging here, but I need one tiny little moment, okay?” You reluctantly agree because he’s right, he does need a moment – not that he’s wrong about the other thing.

You use the time Mike spends in the bathroom to overthink everything, and by the time he gets back, you’ve almost managed to work yourself completely into hysteria.

“Babe,” Mike says as he crawls under the covers with you and wraps his arms around you. Your brief moment of meditative overthinking has made sure your heart is racing and you’re struggling to control your breath. “Come here, look at me.” His hand on the side of your face is reassuring, but you still can’t help but think you’ve fucked it all up. “I’ve never said this to any girl who wasn’t either my mom or a… cat,” he says softly, his voice a little unsteady. “I love you, too.”

[shuttershocky]

Hey shutters! While I overall enjoyed FF16, I agree that I wish Jill did more or spoke more. I feel like there was missed potential of having a relationship more like Saber and shirou, where they both have similar mindsets and trauma. Specifically, when it came to overusing their powers and having to face the crystals' curse being similar to how Shirou and Saber did not want the other to fight but how they both needed to.

I'm still in the middle of the game (after Titan's bossfight) but it feels like Jill was written by an Aerith fan that only knew the FF7 cast from fanworks, movies, and Kingdom Hearts rather than the actual FF7, so Tifa's the tough spunky girl and Aerith's the softie flower girl when their original personalities are actually switched lol

Out of all the characters in FF16 I've seen so far, Jill was written for a role the hardest. What I mean by that is that while someone like Benedikta's an extremely standard femme fatale villain type (the kind that Urobochi would strangle midway through the season to be replaced by the real, male villain), she at least gets to revel in it. She gets to kick dogs, lose her composure, she's got at least one loyal minion she's genuinely close to and trusts in when the archetype doesn't usually, all that stuff. She gets to have fun with the role.

Jill? Jill was written to be Clive's woman before she was written to be a character, and it feels so glaringly obvious from how she's treated. She almost never gets to talk to anyone else other than Clive despite having screentime second only to Clive, she doesn't challenge him in any way, all of the other people barely acknowledge she's even there!

Like half of the main quest dialogue is

Plot Person: Bugger me, these Imperials won't live and let live won't they Clive? Plot plot plot dialogue dialogue. We oughta plot plot plot plot and get 'em right in the arse!

Clive: Hmm. Agreed. Plot plot plot important characters plot. We'll ride at dawn.

Plot person: Righto! See you in hell then. *Nods* Lady Jill.

Jill: *smiles meekly*

And it's such a waste because when she's actually allowed to do anything she's fun! Her character design is my favorite in the game, she gets to swing a sword around, when Clive gets bowled over her AI often gets caught too so the two get thrown up into the air screaming and doing a quadruple flip and its funny as fuck, as soon as she's finally given time to express one damn wish she's like "Clive, this priest did unspeakable things to children. I call dibs on killing him." And Clive's all "Of course Jill you'll get to murder him as much as you want" and that's fun!

They're each other's enablers! That's supposed to be their dynamic. Clive was a rejected son and a failure of a bodyguard, Jill's entire life was spent being someone's hostage (of both Rosaria and the Iron Kingdom), so they're the only pillar of support the other has. You can see the intent of their dynamic plain as day when Cid's trying to talk them into joining his merry crew of outlaws and Clive and Jill subconsciously hold hands and squeeze when they're nervous.

But to DO that right Jill has to be allowed to be her own character. Even in the Iron Kingdom level where Clive and Jill go after the High Priest because killing him is what Jill wants, in the ensuing bossfight Jill primes as Shiva while Clive fails to prime, and then instead of Jill taking charge she protects Clive while he fights the boss.

Seriously? One of them is flying around with literal god powers and the other has a bad case of Eikonic Dysfunction and rather than crush the giant lava monster herself, Jill makes sure Clive still gets to fight it in his puny human form and be the big hero? Come on. I was surprised that Jill still ran the High Priest through with her sword, I genuinely expected the game to take that away from her too.

Anyway she's obviously my favorite part of 16 now. Somebody's gotta be in her corner.

[twinkle-art]

would you ever be in the mood to elaborate on what your emet/WOL dynamic is like? the bits you've posted have me curious

(gripping my thighs so hard i draw blood) yeah i don’t see why not

so as i’ve previously outlined, my particular brand of emetwol (platonic) hinges on the fact that he reminds andromeda of her mother. like. a lot. 

i’ve gotten so deep in here that i’ve grown wholly desensitized to this premise and it’s not weird to me anymore so we will be moving right along

(fig a- silly joke i made early into shb before i knew how dark this was going to get)

the crux of their relationship, to me, is that they are two people who flatly, abjectly refuse to truly see each other past their respective projections for nearly their entire time together, and this renders the very intense emotions they evoke in each other all the more corrosive to them. the exact emotions they even have towards each other are also… nebulous and hard to define, but they’re definitely bad. well. mostly bad. it’s complicated. 

This… might seem like a strange angle to take for someone who is pretty transparently sympathetic to emet-selch outside of all the atrocities but it’s definitely worth noting that andromeda’s difficulties holding him in her mind as a purely evil person despite her best efforts do not come from a belief that he is, in fact, secretly a good guy or anything. It’s first and foremost because she has a psyche that was shaped by an abusive upbringing, uncomfortable as that is. 

Without dwelling… too much on the details because this is quite heavy and I prefer keeping it tastefully vague (after this aspect of her character emerged shockingly organically as a frankly very obvious explanation for a LOT of her personality) her home life as a bastard child in garlemald was Bad. her step-family was bad. her mother had good intentions but was simply not there when she needed her. and all of this left her as an adult who is, frankly, pretty easy to manipulate if you prey on her bottomless, ravenous hunger for love and recognition… or the fact that she is just straight-up conditioned to respond to a particular flavor of authoritative influence. it is nothing short of a miracle that the scions found her first. 

i’m saying she’s dog-coded. is what i’m saying. you get it. 

(there IS also the whole.. uh. garlean fascism aspect. I don’t think i need to spell out why that’s relevant to her relationship with the guy behind the god-emperor she grew up being expected to revere)

NOW. as the arbiter of this reality, it’s not my read of emet-selch’s character that he enjoys doing any of this shit- him inevitably taking advantage of this glaringly obvious weak point is a wholly pragmatic move that ultimately contributes to the fact that she’s unwittingly making him nearly as miserable as he’s making her. Like, once he realizes what’s going on I fully believe he’d feel kind of dirty about it (never mind that this is a shard of azem he’s psychologically tormenting more than is strictly necessary. the man is sentimental) (also he thinks the mom stuff is fucking weird)

this doesn’t stop him tho. lol

a quick aside on azem and emet’s relationship since that’s never not relevant to these; they were very close, I hesitate to say overtly sibling-like since i think that’s a kind of an easy oversimplification, but the type of love they felt for each other was definitely more of a familial one than anything else. she trusted him more than anyone else, and he loved her fiercely and unconditionally, even if their day-to-day dynamic involved taking the piss out of each other constantly, and the fact that the last time he ever saw her involved a blow-out screaming match between them has not sat well with him these 12,000 years. 

And so, they each project these warped reflections of people they love and resent in equal measure onto each other- andromeda with the mother she never expects to see again, emet with the friend he can’t let himself admit he’ll never see again- and it makes their presence both painful and comforting. their unwillingness to detangle themselves because of that extremely twisted feeling of nostalgic comfort borders on emotional self harm honestly. 

and that’s before factoring in that they’re championing opposite sides of a world-defining conflict

with her canon-divergent stint in amaurot that i swear i’m going to fully flesh out in art someday, no seriously, i mean it this time, the bubbling Weird Vibes that accrued any time they were left alone during shb come crashing down all at once and it is brutal. as she slowly loses her grip on reality (to the point where even she’s not certain what really happened that week and what was a hallucination, in retrospect) his mask also begins to slip, as the tiny part of him that so badly wants to believe he can get through to her gets louder and he decides that she’s not even lucid enough to warrant keeping up the act. despite his best efforts i do think this forces him to confront andromeda as Andromeda, not just as Thee Warrior Of Light or as 8/14th of his dead bestie

anyways it probably gets to the point where he’s fully trauma dumping on her while she’s half-consciously lying in his lap wondering why her mom’s calling her perseus before the scions bust in to collect her. you know, really normal stuff

ultimately andromeda takes his death at her hands hard for… a number of reasons (and as i’ve previously touched on, feels bad and weird about the fact that she’s taking it hard at all) the largest of which being that she simply had not parsed how she felt about him beforehand, and was left to sift through a LOT of intense shit tied up in some really fuckin sensitive parts of her psyche for the first time in her adult life all while knowing meaningful closure was out of reach. it sucked. 

their surprise reunion in elpis was… both helpful and not to this end, on account of being extremely one-sided. much like emet did to her in the days leading up to his death, she only comes to finally understand him by observing him in this unguarded, regressed state- even if she is now a total stranger to him. 

(hades found her.. unnerving, to say the least. she didn’t do a very good job leaving their Whole Thing out of her recounting of his future and he can’t deny that how obviously deeply affected andromeda still is by that gnaws at him even while he tries to reject it as total bullshit. it gets a bit lost in all the noise but he finds the thought that he’d do that to her a little stomach-churning)

i don’t know if i’d really call it cathartic but at least she can see him as a full person without it physically paining her now. that counts as progress

thank you for coming to my talk. here’s their playlist and here’s a drawing i did of them as dgs kitty mascots. i turned it into a cutesy phone background for myself. no i’m not sure what’s wrong with me either 

[delta-pavonis]

July Kinkfest Day 2

The Sandman || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 893 words

Prompts: Edging | Comeslut | “Show me what’s in your bedside drawer.”

Warnings: edging, face-fucking, sex in the Dreaming, Dreaming sex is different than Waking World sex, copious amounts of cum, Dream is a little shit and Hob loves him for it

Author's Notes: If I can keep all of these under 1000 words it will be a godsend.

Dream clamps down his hand around the base of Hob’s cock once more, just to hear what new obscenities he comes up with this time. He has been reading more in Latin recently, looking at some original religious texts that Lucienne pointed him to in the Dreaming’s library, and what pours out of his mouth now probably has made even Lucifer’s ears burn. 

“What do they say?” The Dreamlord hums with an exaggerated tap to his chin. “Fourteenth time is the charm?”

Hob sags against his chest, head lolling back onto Dream’s shoulder. “You fucking well know no one says that.” He manages to speak between trembling breaths. “You are also fucking lucky that I cannot get blue balls in the Dreaming. Christ, how long have we been at it?”

“Time is not your concern, pet.” Dream licks at the new beads of sweat rolling down Hob’s neck. “And we won’t have to do this once you learn how to better control your body in the Dreaming.” He considers biting along the same path.

Hob laughs as he bares his neck to his lover’s questing teeth. “Oh, blame this on me, do you, King of the Cumsluts? As if I am the one who wants me to blast into your face with enough volume and velocity to give you a sinus headache? To bruise your uvula?”

“Hob,” Dream tries to keep a scolding tone to his voice but he is pretty sure his smirk pushes its way through. “I do not have sinuses. Nor a uvula.”

“Oh for fuck’s…” Hob gets up and turns so that he is sitting on Dream’s thighs, arms resting on his shoulders “Give me that smart mouth.” He pulls Dream into a sloppy wet kiss, sucking on that silver tongue. When they pull apart with a pop Hob is grinning. “Let’s do this.”

Dream lets Hob push him back on the bed, until he is lying down, and watches Hob crawl up to sit on his marble-smooth chest. Looking up at Hob like this is dizzying, his lover towering over him like a lust-addled sun-god. For a moment the Lord of Dreams imagines he is a vampire, his entire body igniting from being in the solar brightness of Hob’s presence. 

Being on top of Dream is always a heady feeling for Hob, feeding on the power that Dream is willingly giving up for a short time. And, further, knowing that the reason that the King of Nightmares does this is because he absolutely cannot get enough of Hob fucking his face… well. Sometimes a man’s dreams do come true.

Dream starts pawing at Hob’s hips and Hob lets himself be pulled down into his lover’s mouth with a swiftness that makes his eagerness glaringly obvious. Watching Dream’s eyes go blurry while he moans around a cock buried deep into his throat might be Hob’s favorite single activity in the entire universe. 

Hob rocks his hips once, a slow roll, and gets a sharp smack to his ass for his efforts.

“My god you are such a brat.” He pushes up on his arms and pulls all the way out, until the head of his cock is painting pre on Dream’s lips. “Lucky you look so good gagging on my cock…”

“Hob.”

He feels more than hears Dream’s growl, which only serves to make him chuckle. “Alright, dove. Alright. I get it.” Dream laps at the liquid beading rapidly at the tip of Hob’s prick and Hob shivers. “I’ll take care of you.”

Dream parts his lips and finally, finally, Hob’s hips snap down, ramming his dick into Dream’s throat so hard that it chokes off the ecstatic scream. 

Hob has been brought close to and then held back from orgasm too many times to make this last, but that isn’t exactly the point. What Dream really wants is to basically drown in Hob’s cum, pretending for a moment that such a thing is possible. He has found through trial and error that by edging Hob enough in the Dreaming, he can trick Hob’s subconscious into producing an extreme amount of fluid. 

The bed shakes beneath them as Hob slams home harder once, twice, and comes on the third, with a roar that probably rattles the lamp on Lucienne’s desk. 

Cum, scalding and bitter, floods into Dream’s body, down into both stomach and lungs and up into sinuses that he only moments earlier decided would be there. It burns and it overflows around his lips and it is blissfully perfect because every one of his senses are, for one moment, painted over with an overwhelming feeling of Hob.

When Hob’s cock is gone Dream starts coughing, so Hob moves fast to wrap a hand around Dream’s dick. It only takes two pumps before the coughing turns into wet garbled moans and Dream is staining the black sheets with long stripes of white. 

Hob curls around Dream’s back and brushes his inky hair back from his face until his body settles and he has the wherewithal to roll over to face Hob. 

“You spoil me, my pet, my heart.” He croons, voice roughened a touch because he likes the way it makes Hob’s pupils dilate. “That was lovely.” 

Hob hums in agreement, already feeling the tug of wakefulness and therefore drifting away from this moment. “See you soon, my Dream.”

[karizard-ao3]

My reactions to Evangelion episode 21: He was aware that he was still a child

If I must be completely candid, I've been putting off watching these last few episodes because I'm very frightened that something really awful will happen to my beloved Shinji and I really don't know how I'm going to bear it. I think I would be okay if he just turned out to be evil, but if he turns out to be good and sweet and dead, I don't know what I'm going to do.

Anyway, my stomach is churning and I'm about to start the episode.

Super solenoid (?) theory.

The spear!

I had to go back and watch it with subtitles. So the Longinus Spear just came from the dead sea and there's talk about a donor. A personality donor, maybe?

They put DNA into Adam. Is that why he's so fucked up looking?

Gates of Guf.

"It's wings are spreading. It's going towards the surface." This makes me feel like they did create the Angel that caused the Second Impact but that it might have been the first Eva rather than an Angel. They were talking about an anti-AT field.

Am I imagining things or is there new stuff in the video during the opening song? I just saw an Eva with biblically accurate golden wings.

"One last job". He's fucked.

"We have no intention of creating a new God". Hmm. That's even more sacriligeous than I expected. Gendo is certainly Tower of Babeling hard right now.

So is Seele a super computer like the Magi? I assumed it was an organization.

I was expecting Gendo but it was Yui.

If her last name is already Ikari, then... Are she and Gendo actually siblings? Or did he take her last name...?

Unit 1 is a god now.

Okay, Gendo did change his name. Because he's a criminal.

Okay, no. It looks like I was right and Seele is an organization. They're just talking through giant speakers, I guess?

God, Gendo is just the worst.

A child to care for at home. But if I'm mathing right it can't be Shinji who would be no more than a twinkle in his father's eye at this point. So Rei? Please consider I am not very good at math.

Oh, wait, actually, if it's after the second impact Shinji could be a baby.

More Misato back story. Mute for two years.

Rei does look similar to Yui, doesn't she?

Mysterious, spherical underground caverns created by someone else. One in the Antarctic and one here. If I understanding right.

Ritsuko's Mom. And Ritsuko!

Adam and Eva. How glaringly obvious it's been all along.

Ritsuko dyes her hair.

So ostensibly Seele is trying to prevent the third impact.

Baby Shinji. I'm a puddle on the floor. He's patting his mom's face.

Oh, it's Shinji as a little guy!

Shinji was there on the day Yui died. Or, rather, disappeared and was presumed dead, it sounds like.

Gendo the godmaker. So is he trying to make humans gods?

Gendo and Ritsuko's mom, huh? Were they having an affair?

So Gendo shows up with Rei, claims she's a friend's daughter, but she reminds Mom Ritsuko of Yui, so... Clone Rei or kidnapped child given Yui's personality?

Rei lol.

Did she kill the (first?) Rei??

Did Dr Akagi kill herself?

Did Misato kill Kaji?

I can't tell. I just know she got her gun back and then he seems to have been shot. Maybe it was Ritsuko, though.

Shinji running away again.

"I was just a child."

In Conclusion

Yeah, idk. Just waiting for everything to come together.

Seeing Gendo's past was interesting. He's such a garbage bag.

Thinking about Yui and what happened to her. It was on the day of her big experiment and she believed it was going to show Shinji hope for a better future. I also believe that's what he was wearing when we saw the quick flashback of him when he realized that he had seen an Eva before and knew what they were. Maybe his mom developed Unit 1 and was dissolved inside it like he had been? Could explain its ability to act without the battery pack, perhaps?

How does this all end, though? Like, we're building up to answers but I'm having a hard time predicting what the climax will be. I assume Misato will discover something awful about the Angels, maybe Rei will try to protect Gendo and get hurt? Shinji is going to probably go through some horrific metaphysical experience. I don't know!

I'm going to watch one more episode and then it's bedtime.

[vro0m]

vro0m's rewatch - 172/332

2016 Spanish GP

(Hindsight note : ooooh boy.)

Okay round 5. So far not so good for Lewis. Can’t believe he hasn’t won once yet.

Oh ho, but this time around he's on pole! For some reason it's Will Buxton on the drivers truck and he asks if he likes to keep to himself before a race. Lewis says he's just here to do one thing. It's a great feeling being back on pole. He's grateful for the team working so hard and he hopes he can convert it. At some point he also interrupted the interview to wave to a little girl in the crowd.��

Anyway the top 10 spots of the grid go as such : Lewis, Nico, Ricciardo, Verstappen oh wait. Oh. Verstappen has been promoted to RedBull. Mhmh. Anyway. Raikkonen, Seb, Valtteri, Sainz, Perez, Alonso. 

Apparently Nico was quick to point out Lewis hasn't had the best starts this year so. I guess he's not too happy about Lewis being ahead of him on that grid. Max is veeery confident and relaxed about being in a RedBull obviously. Remember when I talked about his debuts VS Lewis' at the end of the 2015 season? It resonates. And everybody is excited for the merc fight. 

On the other hand I'm not a Kvyat fan obvi but the way he didn't see the blow coming is kinda pitiful. Of course they set up the press conference so he'd be sitting next to Max. Of course it has factually nothing to do with it but you could write fics about Kvyat colliding with Seb in two races, Seb going to Horner to complain, and Kvyat getting suddenly sacked before the next race comes. 

Anyway. Time for the race. Formation lap.

And they're racing! 

Lewis keeps the lead but Nico is close and aggressive. And he overtakes him! Easily! Meanwhile Seb is ahead of Max in P4 but Max overtakes him back shortly after. OH MY GOD. OH. MY. GOD. OHHHHH. MYYYYY. GOOOOOD. 

Listen. 

I knew it was coming. 

But still. 

I'm just. Rewinding and watching it over and over again. Right at the exit of the corner, we’re facing the cars. Lewis is trying to take the inside of Nico, but Nico defends. Aggressively. Until Lewis is on the grass.

You can tell he was flooring it. The car bounces rapidly and goes sideways. Right into Nico.

Taking them both out into the gravel trap on the other side of the next corner.

As his car comes to a stop, Lewis is hiding his face behind his hands. And that’s it. That’s the end of the race for them both. On the replays, we see Lewis throwing away his steering wheel. 

As the safety car comes in, we start lap 4 with the following order : Ricciardo, Verstappen, Sainz, Seb, Raikkonen, Valtteri, Perez, Jenson, Alonso, Grosjean. 

Niki calls it completely unnecessary, a disaster, and unacceptable. He takes Nico's side, when pushed. Lewis was too aggressive, and why should Nico have given him room, he was in the lead? He says he blames Lewis more than Nico. Crofty agrees with Niki, Brundle doesn't. 

Meanwhile nothing has happened but now Seb attacks Sainz for P3 and overtakes him. Of course. Raikkonen tries to follow him a bit later but he has to cut a corner and can't make it. 

It's lap 10. Ricciardo, Verstappen, Seb, Raikkonen, Sainz, Valtteri, Jenson, Alonso, Grosjean, Hulkenberg. Ricciardo pits. It's honestly boring and it's not even because the Mercs aren't there. There's just nothing happening. We watch Lewis and Nico make it into the Merc paddock with their helmets still on. That's not gonna be a good time. Verstappen pits. Anthony Davidson has reviewed the start and agrees with Brundle that Nico is more at fault. He says Nico moved without looking to the inside and was "all over his steering wheel". Now we see Paddy and Toto get up the stairs as well. Seb pits. Niki is heading to the yelling room as well. Brundle is saying he thinks it's a defining moment like it's not fucking glaringly obvious. 

In the meantime it's lap 20 and things are getting more complicated than I initially thought. Ricciardo is still in the lead ahead of Max and Seb, but Seb is closing quickly on the RedBulls. He's only a second away. Behind them it's Raikkonen, about 5 seconds down, then Valtteri, 7 seconds further, Sainz, Perez, Jenson, Alonso and Massa. And Hulkenberg reports a smoking engine. He's told to stop near a fire marshal. And so he does. 

Toto Wolff is out of the office. And apparently, Crofty now reports, the big boss of Mercedes confirmed to a magazine that Nico would stay with them in 2017……….. Jesus. This whole race. I'm screaming. Toto speaks to the press. He says they spoke with both drivers and it's not clear cut. It's difficult because they lost 43 points after putting in so much work in the last couple of weeks. He says they let their drivers race and sometimes it happens. The stewards will make their own decision, but from their point of view it's not one specific driver's fault. Ted is always sharp : "Niki was blaming Lewis though, Toto." Toto says Niki is speaking from his driver's perspective and his instinct. How's the mood between the drivers? Everybody is bringing up Spa 2014. Toto reiterates it's a difficult situation and they're both upset. They'll need to talk to them again and look at the images and the data to make sure it doesn't happen again. 

Back to the race, Max is closing on Ricciardo now. Ricciardo pits. He's out in P4. Seb pits, while Max stays out, which makes him the youngest driver to ever lead a race. 

It's lap 30. Max in the lead then, followed by Raikkonen, Ricciardo, Seb, Valtteri, Sainz, Perez, Jenson, Alonso, and idk who's P10 because someone pits and I can't see the rest. We're halfway through the race. Seb is closing on Ricciardo. Verstappen pits. He's out in P4, behind Seb. Then Raikkonen pits. Oh… And Seb? No. They're going back in. We thought for a moment they might pit Seb again. Oh he does! He does! Huh. Daring strategy. He only did 8 laps on his tyres. He's out in P4, behind Raikkonen. Ted thinks it doesn't make sense. 

It's lap 40. Daniel is back in the lead, followed by Max, who's 10 seconds behind, then Raikkonen, 2.3 behind. And Seb, 5.7 behind but on faster new tyres at this point. Behind them it's Valtteri, Massa, Alonso, Sainz, Perez and Gutierrez in the points. Valtteri pits. Massa pits. Ricciardo pits. Careful now… He's out in P4. Can Ferrari win this on strategy? That would be unheard of… 

20 laps to go. Raikkonen is not far from Max. Oh and Alonso is out. He's stopped by the side, reporting a loss of power. Oh and Ricciardo is closing very very fast on Seb… And Raikkonen has DRS over Max! It's lap 50, Max is in the lead for now, just ahead of Raikkonen, 8 seconds safe from Seb, Ricciardo now 2 seconds away from the podium. Valtteri is still P5, ahead of Sainz, Perez, Gutierrez, Kvyat, and Massa. Raikkonen can't seem to make it past Max. He gets close but not close enough. But he gets closer and closer every lap. And Ricciardo gets DRS over Seb! Seb gained 2 seconds on Raikkonen as well. On top of it, lapped Kvyat is essentially on Ricciardo's heels as well.

10 laps to go. Ricciardo is now half a second away from Seb. It's tense! OH MY GOD HE ATTACKS HE ALMOST TOUCHED HIM BUT HE'S GOING TOO FAST AND HE HAS TO GO WIDE AND REJOIN. Seb keeps position! Seb is yelling on radio again. Grosjean retires but who cares. It's lap 60. Max, Raikkonen +0.7, Seb +5.4, Ricciardo +0.5. Then Valtteri, Sainz, Perez, Massa, Gutierrez and Jenson. Ricciardo tries again but locks up. 

5 laps to go. Seb is still closing on Raikkonen. Oh no! Seb made a mistake and Ricciardo is right on him while they're stuck in traffic! But Seb gets away and gets ahead of the backmarker that slows Ricciardo down a bit. BUT HE ATTACKS AGAIN! But it still doesn't work. And Kvyat is looking at him as well. Finally Ricciardo lets him ahead. It's true he's also fighting for points, being P10. It looks like team orders, the commentators say, but then Daniel is slow… He has a puncture! 

It's the end of the race! 

Max is the youngest GP winner in history! He wins ahead of Raikkonen and Seb! 

In the cool down room, he's just a boy. Raikkonen shakes his hand, touches his shoulder. "Congratulations," he says. "Thank you," Max answers with a humble voice. Seb's isn't that solemn, they lock hands, he hugs him. Max chuckles. They're speaking German, unfortunately. All of them.

Seriously. Max on the podium. It's a CHILD. It's almost shocking. 

Listen before we get into the post race. There's so many Narratives™ moments here :

Obviously the Nico-Lewis situation : how it happened just as Lewis is on pole again after it was Nico twice and Lewis had such bad races? Also the whole thing about Toto switching the mechanics around! 

The fact that Kvyat rammed into Seb 3 times in 2 races, and then golden boy Seb went to daddy horner to complain, and Kvyat was sacked? Yeah yeah it's supposedly not related but you know? 

The fact that Max's first podium was a win. The fact it happened when Lewis and Nico took each other out. The fact it happened during his first grown up race aka first race in RedBull. 

The fact that he overpowered Daniel in his first race. And symbolically I mean. He got there and Daniel got a puncture. 

The fact that he stood on the podium with OG golden boy Seb as Akira calls him. Insane. The fact that Daniel thought he'd be the new Seb and then Max arrived and stood on that podium with Seb and he wasn't there! 

Oh my god. So Daniel is unhappy obvi and then we cut from his interview straight to Jos and Horner and they talk about max max max and then Horner says like an afterthought it's a shame for RiCHIardo like. He forgot his name. 

We're told Lewis and Nico won't talk to the media until they're done with the stewards. In the meantime, Anthony Davidson talks us through the start, step by step. Nico gets the better start. He gets the slipstream and goes around the outside and takes the lead. But then, Anthony claims, something goes wrong. He shows us from Lewis on-board Nico's red light flashing : harvesting mode. On Nico's on-board, we see him fidgeting with the steering wheel, in answer to the light being on. When he looks in the mirror to see where Lewis is, he's already making his move, front wheels next to his rear wheels. He's still going towards the right side of the track and that's how Lewis ends up on the grass. From Anthony's point of view, by the time he starts closing the space on Lewis, it's too late. From Daniel's on-board, we can see that Lewis' car isn't on harvest mode, as there's no red light flashing. That's why Lewis was able to come up on him so fast. Anthony thinks Lewis reacted to the red light. He hadn't planned to try a move at that point but he saw the light, knew that meant Nico would be slower, and went for it at the last second. Indeed when you look at it from the start, Lewis was holding the outside line, nice and smooth, and made the move towards the inside when he saw the light and then the gap. He didn't make a move towards the outside, he was just holding the line, and when the moment came to choose, he went for the inside. But by the time he catches up with Nico, there's already nowhere to go anymore, and his front right is on the grass. 

But as Anthony points out, the question then is : why was Nico's car harvesting energy right then and there, and Lewis' wasn't? I like him because he's thorough. He went back to Russia and looked at the ANGLE at which the strategy mode wheels (like, the knobs on the steering wheels) were set on both cars. That's my type of nosy. Lewis' is pointing to the right and Nico's to the left. What it shows is that they aren't in the same modes. And Nico's might be wrong. Remember that at that point, the engineers aren't allowed to tell them what mode to use for the start anymore. The driver has to do that on his own. Then right here in Spain, it's the opposite : Lewis' is pointing to the left and Nico's to the right. That's what Nico was changing while he was fidgeting with the steering wheel. Afterwards, it's pointing at the same angle as Lewis'. Anthony thinks he was distracted and lost spatial awareness. 

I just wanna suggest something while I’m at it. The modes seem to be related to the starting position rather than being a mistake on Nico's part. Both in Russia and Spain, the driver on pole had his wheel pointing towards the left. The one chasing had his wheel pointing towards the right. If I were to talk a wild guess given I'm not quite sure that's how it works, I'd say the one chasing is using the additional power from the battery at the start to try to keep up with the one on pole. That's what allowed Nico to overtake Lewis. But then the battery is drained so the car goes into harvesting mode, and because Nico then was ahead, he had to change back to something that didn't reduce his speed too much, aka the mode that the one on pole is usually using? Anyway that doesn't change anything to the incident itself and it’s just a hypothesis from me.

We see from replays how they avoided each other and didn't talk in the gravel trap, and the stern faces in the garage. We can also see Niki and Spinz talking in a corner of the pitlane. Hill emits a similar hypothesis to mine, that Nico's initial mode was intended for chasing and he didn't expect to find himself ahead of Lewis and that's why he had to switch it. He also points out that if that's the case and he knows he's having issues at that point with his mode, then he's in no position to defend the way he did. We hear what Niki and Toto had to say about it earlier again. 

The commentators are reading articles from the regs trying to speculate what the outcome is gonna be. During Jenson's interview we see Nico heading to the stewards. 

There's rumours as well about Lewis taking a sabbatical during the next year. That Lewis denied obviously but why would they listen to him right? 

Sir Jackie Stewart thinks Lewis was too hot headed and could have waited to make his move. Brundle thinks it was motivated by the anger of being overtaken first. I think the move only looks hot headed because as he was doing it Nico unexpectedly closed the door on him. I do also think Lewis took the chance because he wouldn't let Nico be ahead of him one more corner than necessary. 

Now we see images of Lewis going to the stewards as well. 

In the meantime we hear Max reminding the journalists that Raikkonen raced with his father lol. Crazy tbh. 

During Ted's notebook, there's a ribbon at the bottom of the screen like these breaking news type things saying Nico and Lewis are still with the stewards. Also Ted says in the press con Max was asked what he owed his success to, and he apparently said "between the ages of 4 to 16, really my dad" and Seb asked what about from 0 to 4 and he answered "well my mom, obviously" which is kinda cute tbh. 

And as we watch Max take photos with his team, we hear the stewards made their decision : no penalties. Which. They really decided they didn't wanna touch that hornets’ nest with a ten foot pole. More seriously it really was difficult to decide who was at fault there. Just like everything else between them it just seems like the unavoidable result of a hundred small mundane things. 

But here's Lewis. He apologises to the team. The entire team. He says his heart sank thinking about them when he stopped. He got a good start, got overtaken, coming through turn 3 he saw Nico was in the wrong engine mode as we thought, he lost 180 brake horsepower (don't ask me what that is).

He says Nico wasn't exactly on the race line but one step to the right of it so the gap to the left was smaller than the one to the right  "There was a gap there and as a racing driver when you're going 17k (?) faster you go for the gap, which I did." big inhale

"I got my wing and wheel alongside but I had to avoid collision." The journalist tells him about Anthony's on-board analysis and Nico correcting his mode mistake and not looking where he was until it was too late. "So do you lay any blame anywhere?" Another, shorter inhale. He looks away. He shrugs and shakes his head slightly. "I'm not gonna get into it," he smiles.

"As I said huge apologies to the team I'm just gonna try and move forward and try and uh… Let the team know that I'll do everything again to make sure it doesn't happen again." She says he had a good weekend until then does he feel good going into Monaco? (Oh no… Next GP is Monaco :( ) He says naturally he can't feel good right now, but they'll recover. She asks about Max as well. Big congratulations, he answers decisively. "Amazing drive, didn't make any mistake while he was in the lead. Hat off to him. He had an opportunity and grabbed it with both hands and that's what we all should do."

Pretty crazy how much he's grown since Belgium 2014. Didn't see that coming tbh. However his explanation makes no sense because if Nico was one step to the right from the racing line that would put him closer to the right than usual and that would leave LESS space to the right than the left, as opposed to what he said?

Nico denies he was distracted. He says he was aware of the situation. He saw Lewis coming and went for the "usual racing driver action of closing the inside line", "as early as he could". He says he was very surprised to see him go for the gap anyway. (Uh? He was going for the gap before you started closing my guy? Like I agree the blame is shared for sure but you're not using the correct arguments to defend yourself there.) About the stewards ruling it a racing incident he says "you know, we have to accept like that" which makes me think he thought it wasn't a racing incident which I believe is bold because I'm pretty sure he'd have received the penalty if there had been one but hey. He says overall he's just extremely gutted, "it was my race to win out there–" then he corrects himself "OUR race to win, for all of us, I'm very very gutted also for all my colleagues," he adds to the camera, "all of you watching, I'm well aware of all the work, all the hard work that you've put into these two cars and for us to end in the sand trap like that is, that's as bad as it gets." The journalist smartly picks up on the fact he doesn't seem to agree with the stewards. (He's managed this in a less clever way than Lewis did this time.) She asks if he wasn't in the wrong mode and not doing something with the steering wheel, and he saw Lewis with plenty of time? "Uh, the stewards' decision uh, is the stewards decision," he says with his usual flat tone. "And we will just leave it at that, that's the verdict." He says he was definitely in the incorrect mode. They still need to figure out why that was the case. She says Lewis said there was more space to the right so he went for it because he had more power, "you lay the blame to his door basically." (He really set the trap for himself in this interview. I'm surprised. I feel like all this time he's usually been more able to control his emotions than Lewis in these interviews but he's derailing now.) Pause. "I didn't say that." He's annoyed. He's studying her face, frowning, his own face closed up. "So what are you saying, that it was a racing incident, from your point of view?" Pause. He's so annoyed. "I'm saying that I will go with the verdict of the stewards." He lightens his tone towards the end of the sentence. But it's too late. Lewis won this one. She says he still has a 43 points advantage over Lewis going to Monaco so it could have been worse. He says he's not thinking about that, he came to win, he was ecstatic about overtaking Lewis who was on pole and he's gutted. She asks how his relationship to Lewis is now. "Same as usual." No hint of any change in his face or tone. 

[harcove]

Well, i saw this on someone's else's tumblr and I wanted to see what you think Billy's reaction would be like.

Soulmate stuff, people see only in black and white until they saw their soulmate for the first time. It can be a glimpse, just a little something in the corner of the eye and BOOM! Colors.

The idea: billy saw his soulmate for the first time in the school hallway, lots of people, no idea who it is and he just gets punched in the face by colors and colors.

A/N: okay so I hope you read this because it's important to say I kinda took this in a direction that maybe was less fluff, more angst? Because I really feel Billy would not like the idea of being bound to someone he didn't pick- like another part of his life is controlled. I think there would be a lot of mixed feelings from him. As you'll see in what I wrote. So I hope this is okay! I'm sorry if you wanted some fluff 😔 i got carried away with my characterization of Billy ily anon AND ik u said like u wanted to see how I think he'd react which is what I'm doing I JUST FEEL BAD ITS NOT FLUFFY- ily

Pairing: Billy x soulmate!reader (no interactions)

Length: 1.3k

Warnings: angst, Billy is depressed tbh, Billy has complex contradictory emotions, mentions of abuse, self-hate kind of, no dialogue just text

Not A Soulmate - B.H.

Billy hated the idea of soulmates.

It was stupid, he didn't need a better or more articulate word to describe it because the simple word was good enough, it was exactly what he thought it was. Stupid.

Seeing everything in black and white suited him just fine. Why did it matter if he were to see colour or not? His entire life had been black and white, literally and figuratively. So he never yearned to see colour.

He didn't like the idea that there was something out there, maybe an other wordly being, trying to dictate who he was meant to be with. It was already enough that his own father kept his foot down on him at all times, pushing him around and hurting him, but now even the person he was "meant to be with" was decided for him too?

No one told Billy Hargrove what to do. Not outside of his home. That was when his life was his for a few fleeting hours.

To be frank, he was almost positive that he didn't have a soulmate anyways. He wasn't meant to be with anyone, and God forbid someone was meant to be with him.

It wasn't that he thought himself to be unattractive; he'd had relationships. He'd done things in a night with people that he'd never talk to again about it. But that wasn't love. That wasn't having a soulmate, that was just lust. And that's what he knew about. Lust. Not love.

His father never found a soulmate. Not his mom, not Susan. Maybe there were people who were never bound to find that person. If it was true, he was glad that his father hadn't found a soulmate; he would ruin them with one touch. And maybe he would too if he found one.

It was so glaringly obvious when someone had a soulmate.

People would quite literally glow. It was annoying; the way they smiled and acted like their life before their soulmate had been worthless- as if life before hadn't been actually living till this person came into their life.

And the way they talked about colours? Sometimes forgetting not everyone had a soulmate yet?

God he despised it.

But Billy was fine where he was in life. No attachment to the people he had sex with; black and white walls, black and white everything. Nothing had deeper meaning, and it didn't need to have deeper meaning. This was fine.

He'd die seeing the world in black and white, and that was fine.

It was what he deserved he supposed.

The schools hallways were jam packed. They always were in the morning. And if Billy didn't have to drive his sister also to school next door, then he wouldn't even be here this early.

There had been times where the moment he left with Max, he drove just far enough, kicked her out of the car (she usually didn't react badly- she likely hated being with him just as much as he did) and made her skate while he fucked off somewhere else. Coming to school later.

That happened less often nowadays. His father had been harsher lately. He hoped it might pass.

It never passed.

Billy kept his head down at first when he entered the hellish hall; something inside him beckoned him to look up and scan the halls but he wouldn't do it. Not yet. He didn't want to look around and people he hated, people who wanted to be near him for the status he held. People who were more akin to lost sheep than human beings.

He wanted nothing more than to be away from here. Not just the school, but Hawkins in general.

Billy Hargrove was made for the sun and the ocean- he believed that. He was made for something that wasn't Hawkins. Hawkins fit wrong; like a pair of jeans that were loose. It wanted to be right, but nothing was right. (He couldn't admit that sometimes California fit weirdly too. Maybe he had no where; belonged no where.)

He wouldn't give it a chance, not a real one at least. To him, Hawkins deserved his ire, it deserved not even a single chance to cage him in. To take away the only thing he had left- California.

But it already had, hadn't it? It took the beach, the sun, the friends he actually did have back in California. It took his mother. (His father did that. But California was where he saw her last. It was as close to her as he could get. And now that was gone too.)

If he tried maybe he could grow to like it in Hawkins. But months had gone by, and he was no closer to letting Hawkins try to grow on him.

Billy Hargrove was just angry. Even if he couldn't see colour, California felt colourful. He had no idea what that meant but he felt it. He didn't need a soulmate, he didn't need anyone, he only needed himself. He could only trust himself. And even that was a challenge.

An arm brushes into his own as he pushes down the hall, lost in thought; no, not brushes- it's more like a shove. Likely not on purpose; likely someone in a rush. But he doesn't care.

He's angry. He's always angry. And that's just the thing he needs: something to channel it into.

"Hey, watch where the fuck you're going-" it forces him to look up so he can yell, scanning his eyes for the person in the crowds. Yell at the person who did it.

But he stops. It all stops. Like a ship stranded at sea; no wind to guide its way and make use of the masts. Completely and utterly still.

Colour. Too much colour.

It comes in from the centre of his vision and it spreads like water colour on paper. It's too bright, too colourful- he can't even begin to describe the colours because he never knew what blue looked like, red, green- he doesn't know what they look like. All he knows is black and white.

All he knew was black and white.

It makes his head pound. His stomach churn. He feels like he may actually vomit on the now coloured floor; something that once was grey is now a colour he can't name. It forces him to take a foot back because it feels like someone has quite literally just tried to run him over in a freight.

His heart aches. And his body feels heavy. And now he's just standing there. In the middle of he hall. And no one gets mad at him for blocking the dead centre because he's Billy Hargrove, and right now, he looks scary. Scarier than usual.

This isn't happening.

He repeats it like a mantra in his head. Because this seriously could not be happening.

No. He was only meant to ever see black and white. He had decided that for himself- he wasn't meant to have a soulmate. He was a man doomed to a life alone; finding pleasure in nameless people with forgotten faces. He was the dictator in that part of his life. He could never be someone's soulmate.

He would only ruin them.

So why?

His head whips around. He's looking; navigating the new colours in the world, but he's looking for them. The person who did this to him. The person who took the black and white away; that safety away, and painted it with colour.

The person who had him scared for once in his life away from his father. The person that he... Wanted to find but at the same time he wanted to never see.

His world was off kilter. And he didn't know how to navigate it.

It felt nice. But horrifying all the same. And he was angry, at the unknown person, at himself, at the world. He was a ticking time bomb in that moment and he hated it. He wanted them but he wanted nothing. He was nothing.

For once, Billy Hargrove, was truly, completely, utterly lost.

[itstheoneshot]

Kinktober Day 15

Sex Tape/Cam Boy - Taemin

!sub Taemin

Taemin sits naked in a chair in the middle of the room, legs spread as he stares directly at the camera set up on a tripod in front of him. He has a seductive look in his eye as you enter the room in a barely-there lingerie set, it is practically just lace strings, leaving nothing to the imagination, but it is what your audience loves.

No time-wasting. Straight to business.

“Taemin-ah,” You coo as you enter the frame, “You look like you need some special attention.”

Taemin nods at you as his gaze travels up and down your body, taking you in before you leave his line of sight to stand behind him. You trace his shoulder and up his neck before tucking his hair behind his ear, and then you lean in to kiss his cheek, leaving a slight pink mark behind from your lipstick.

“Have you been a good boy today?” You ask him, “Should I reward you? Or do you want to be punished?”

You giggle as you see his cock stir at your question, knowing that the camera would catch it too. He ponders his options as your mind plays over the last few videos that you have made together. Taemin loves a good punishment, and you love giving them too, but you worry that your content may get repetitive if you have to think of something else along those lines.

“Reward me,” He murmurs, “I’ve been good, I’ll be good, I’ll do anything you ask me to.”

You smile at him sweetly, glancing up at the camera again as you quickly try to concoct an idea. Sometimes you pre-plan your videos, but you decided to go in blind for this one, certain that it would still be fun.

“Touch yourself,” You order, “Make that pretty cock of yours all nice and hard for me, won’t you?”

He blushes deeply, much the way that he does with every praise that you give him, though of course this is because the praises are mildly condescending, a little bit emasculating, but god, does it turn him on.

Taemin nods again, barely stumbling over a ‘yes’ before he has his hand wrapped around his cock, and you coax him on to get him hardened.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” You ask, “Look how hard you’ve gotten… don’t be quiet now.”

Taemin lets himself go, moaning louder with each stroke of his hand, knowing that your sales always triple when he does, has him going harder.

“And stop,” You order him, “On your knees. My turn.”

You laugh as Taemin whines, though he does as you ask. He relinquishes the grip he has on his cock, and he moves to kneel on the floor facing you as you take his chair, spreading your legs apart much the same way that he had, giving both him, and the camera a sight to behold.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Taemin purrs, “Please, please let me make you cum.”

It is as if he read your mind, though it was already glaringly obvious that you were going to ask this of him, and you motion him to go ahead, and that he does. He begins by kissing up your inner thighs, biting gently at the flesh before he reaches your core, exposed in the crotchless panties you have on.

He licks a stripe along you, letting his tongue dive into your cunt only momentarily before moving to settle at your clit. The feeling is fucking magical, and your hands race to his hair to hold him there, as if there were any chance he would want to move away.

“Shit,” You moan, feeling his teeth on you has you reeling, “Oh fuck, just like that Taemin, fuck.”

You keep your eyes on the camera, even when your vision goes hazy, as Taemin worships you with his tongue and you feel the knot building in your stomach so quickly. It is never hard for Taemin to finish you, and you make sure to put on the best show, your videos sell so well when the two of you make them with this much passion and desire.

“Please, baby,” He begs, his words garbled as he doesn’t want to break apart for a second, “Cum for me, please, I need it.”

You break eye contact for the first time as you throw your head back, your moans at an almost screaming level as you cum for Taemin, and he holds your shaking thighs still so that you cannot move. You ride out the high until you can’t take it anymore, though Taemin would be willing to keep going, you want to keep the film interesting.

You maneuver yourself to get your foot onto his chest, pushing him hard so that he falls flat onto his back, staring up at you in shock when you follow him down, straddling his waist instead. You feel his cock under you, and you grind down onto it, a quiet moan leaving your lips as you picture it inside of you very soon.

“You said you wanted a reward, right?” You ask, “I’m gonna give that to you now.”

———

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