#noticing now that I use 'neck' twice in a sentence and my eye is twitching. where is my laptop

[defiledtomb]

will we be able to show some fighting skills in new path? Like i know that mc will eventually be dragged back, bcs story must progress, but if we play as blood kell for example would we be able to do some dmg? I like to imagine that when my mc would finally be dragged back bloody cursing and with missing limbs lol there would be at least 2 or 3 mercs would have to be dragged unconscious behind them :D

[You approach the furthest blade with your breath caught in your lungs, their back still turned against you. Stabbing in the neck is out of the question, but you spot their hood loose around their neck and decide to pull it, bending them backwards. You help them along with a kick to the back of their knees. Your knife sinks in between armor and clothes. A squelching sound, blood seeping onto the grass now.]

This is one variation in a larger body of text, race and choice of trap will influence the route a lot!

[dr4cking]

The Unexpected Summer.

draco malfoy x reader | smut |

it was the summer time, all of the students in hogwarts has returned to spend their summer in their own house, and as for the slytherins squad, draco, y/n, blaise, pansy, the greengrass sisters, theo, crabbe and goyle are spending their summer together at y/n's manor because her parents will not gonna be home for the summer this time. the boys were hanging out at the pool, talking about some girls and taking pictures.

as for the girls, they were still in y/n's room, picking out their bikinis, getting ready, hyping up and complimenting each other.

"oh my god y/n!! you look so hot in that bikini, draco will drool once he sees you in it!" astoria said as she admiring y/n in her bikini, the others agreeing with her making y/n blush.

"yes you do y/n! draco will lose his mind when he sees you! and if he doesnt take you to the bed immediately, i definitely would" pansy said and earned a whistle from daphne, making y/n blushed more.

"oh shut up you two youre making me blush! y'all look hot too, and im not wearing this for him, we're just bestfriends!" y/n chuckles at her last sentence.

"ooh! i smell lies, you know you're not a good liar" daphne said mocking her singing the last part making all the girls laugh.

y/n just rolled her eyes playfully and walked out of the door, the girls following behind.

as they walked out to the pool, the boys instantly turning their heads looking at their way, whistling at the girls walking like a queens.

"woah damn y/n, you're making me speechless" draco said smiling cheekily to y/n, he feels his part twitching under his boxers when he saw her, he approaches her and giving a kiss on her cheek making her blush, taking her hand on his as their friends go wild.

"told you, babe!" pansy shouted as she jumped into the pool.

"what is she talking about y/n?" draco asks while y/n blushing madly now, giving pansy a death stare.

"n- nothing! you know how she is" she chuckled nervously.

"if you dont tell me the truth y/n," draco pick her up by her waist and throw her to the pool, he laughed uncontrollably seeing her mad face as she surfaces.

"oh no you didnt just do that draco!!" y/n yelled as she get out of the pool, draco take it as his cue to run, y/n already chasing him from behind. they both were laughing and shouting.

draco keep running back into her house, y/n still followed him behind, and as he ran to the corner, he stuck and have nowhere to go only y/n's room at the sight, he heard her footsteps behind and quickly running to her room, before he get the chance to close the door y/n already appeared and smirking at him, she pushed draco onto the bed, tackling him. waters from her wet hair dripped down to his face as they both giggles.

"ha! gotcha ferret! dont you dare mess with the queen!" y/n laugh as she straddles him on her bed, pinning his hands above him causing him to flustered.

"yeah and what you gonna do about it, little girl?" draco smirk at her trying to escape his hands, fuck, y/n looks so hot on top of him, he thought to himself.

"oh im gonna tied you and throw you to the pool, ferret!" y/n giggles still pinning his hands not letting him go that easily, what she didnt realizes she was moving and rolling her hips on his crotch. draco screwed his eyes shut and let out a moan making her freeze.

"fuck y/n you need to get off of me now" draco said as she didnt make a move while his boner started to grow underneath her, she snapped back into the reality.

"or what, draco?" y/n said leaning her face and whisper seductively into his ear, rolling her hips harder on his one more time, making him moaned again.

"or im gonna flipped us over, im gonna be on top and fuck you senseless and maybe ruin our friendship" draco replied boldly causing y/n to whimpered at his words getting aroused down there, looking back to him, she smirked.

"what are you waiting for then? do it, ruin our friendship, draco" and at that draco flipped them over, now on top of y/n, started to take all control in his hands.

"you sure about this, bestie? you might be not ready for my huge cock" now it was his time to pinned her hands, smirking at her.

"you're all talk drakey, prove it to me" y/n stuck out her tongue, mocking him, draco scoffed and leaned down to her, catching her tongue, colliding it with his, he rubbed his boner on her clothed pussy, grinding his hips on her, they both let out a moan at the friction.

"oh whats got you so excited, baby? you're so wet, look its making a spot on your bikini" draco chuckles rubbing her wet underwear making y/n whined.

"merlin draco just stop talking and put your 'oh so big' dick inside me already" draco gasped at her words, his smirk getting wider as he sat up to take off his boxers, and y/n does the same too.

"no, leave it on, i wanna fuck you in that bikini, it has been teasing me ever since you walked your cute ass to the pool" draco pointing at her to not taking her bikini off, so she just watched him pulling down and kicking his boxers to the floor, his dick standing tall in front of her, she widen at his size, she has no idea he was this big, she thought he was all talk. draco noticed and chuckles lowly at her.

"now you believe me, hm? why so surprised? never had someone this big? dont worry, it will be all yours after this, baby" draco pushes her panties aside, they both know they cant hold it anymore, he starts to pushing in, slowly to not hurt her and wanting her to feel every part of his veiny cock going inside her, stretching her walls out so wide as he finally fully inside. y/n let out a scream of his name and draco let her adjust.

"fuck you're so big draco, god.. you're destroying my inside" y/n wrapped her legs on his waist, her hands on his neck to pull him for a kiss to ease the pain. they kissed as if their lives depends on it.

"move now draco" y/n broke the kiss and draco started to move slowly, pulling out and slamming it again, each time it gets deeper and harder as he started to pick up the pace.

"fuck- y/n, your cunt is so tight, hugging my cock so tight, shit- feels so good" draco started to pounding harder and faster leaving no space between their bodies, he groans as he watched his cock disappeared inside her.

"holyshit draco, you're tearing me apart" y/n cant control her sinful noises anymore, both of them is in the cloud nine, feeling heavenly, draco look down at her like she's an angel, his hands found her breasts, grabbing and squeeze them through her bikini, he pulls her tits out of it and starts to toying and pinching her nipples, his mouth latching to one of them instantly, sucking and biting softly like a baby.

"fuck, this feel so much better than i've imagined, y/n" draco plopped her wet boobs out and fastening his thrust, going up to mark her neck, giving his love bites.

"you've imagined this?" y/n asked through her moans, her hands tugging at his blonde hair.

"you dont?" draco replaced his mouth with his hand, choking her while he kisses her jaw and bite her earlobe, sending butterflies to her stomach. y/n just nodded shutting her eyes in pleasure, draco smirk and whispers a "naughty girl" into her ear.

y/n let out a sudden scream of his name and he knows it, he had just hit her spot, he continues pounding into her spot making y/n going crazy and a mess under him.

"oh my god- dray i‘m so close-" y/n warned him as her high started to approaching her.

"cum love, cum on your best friend's cock, show me how much of a slutty best friend you are for me" and that was it for y/n, she screamed his name one last time loudly, shutting her eyes in pleasure seeing the stars as she cum hard around his cock, her orgasm is so good that it makes her head dizzy, draco groans at the sight of her juices coating his cock, his thrusts getting sloppier, and he pulls out of her and knelt infront of y/n's face.

draco jerks himself off in front of her face, his hand gripping at her hair, placing her face closer to his cock, and with final pump, he spilled all of his warm thick cums on y/n's face, it landed on her cheeks, forehead, chin, and nose, basically all over her face, y/n stuck out her tongue and catches some of his cum that still hasnt ended, draco shoves his cock to her mouth to land the last spurts of his cum and ride out his orgasm. y/n look up to him innocently and swallow it, he smiles at her, pulling out and taps his now soft dick on her mouth twice, he wipes his cum on her face with his fingers and shove them inside her mouth, y/n suck them clean and he rolls to the side.

"its official y/n, our friendship is ruined now, why dont we becoming more than best friends?" draco laughed as he pulls her waist to get closer to him, kissing her lips passionately showering her with love.

"sounds like a good idea, drakey" y/n smirked at the nickname as she broke the kiss.

they both getting dressed and walking back to the pool, and everyone has know it when they saw their flustered face, sweaty and marked bodies.

"shut up, all of you." y/n grabs draco's face and kiss him in front of their friends, they give them a middle fingers as the others whistling and shouting.

[kakubun]

hello :) i saw your requests were open so, may i request how suna would react to seeing the miya twins’s fangirls attack you?

a/n: okie dokie!! (also i dont have good titles)

Reaction To Miya Twins' Fangirls Attacking You

suna × gen!reader

you're highkey creeped out about both of your friends' fangirls

it's just that they would ask you to do a favour or a request involving either both of the twins

you always declined to the point it gets annoying, you so nicely said "no thanks, i'd rather not do that" and they still bugged you about it

they were persistent that you wish to scream for them to do it themselves but something tells you if you did, they would do something much more worse than their favours

suna would sometimes rescue you out of these situation whenever you try to make them back off and he would stand behind and ask the girls what they want from their manager

and it always end up of them walking away quickly and leave an akward tension for a while but you didn't forget to thank suna

you sat with suna, the guy you were crushing on and he would do a lot of things that would fluster you in so many ways without even trying

man, if he were to open the door for anyone, you'd get butterflies storming in your stomach

you put your knees up to your chest and rock back and forth, trying to think of a way to stop them and you kept quiet when you feel suna looking at

suna would just wait patiently for you to bring up your problem cause you would always glance at him for a question before asking it

but you look so dang tense, it worried him

"what's got you all worried?" you would be dazed and slump even more on the bench and mumble your response

"i hate them so much, i should leave the club-" suna immediately objected and you look up at him in suprise in which he turns away and shakes his head

"don't, you're still going to be friends with the two knuckleheads. they will always find away to bother you love" hearing the nickname he has for you now made you doubt, he only uses it when he's being genuine but you still reasoned with him

telling him maybe it'll go away for a bit, not as worse as this and you remembered you never told the team about this, only suna and the miya twins

you knocked on your head twice and sighed, you should've told the team about this and suna smiled while placing a hand on your head

"let's tell them now, shall we?"

the whole team being suprised was an understatement, you chuckled when they look terribly shocked to how much trouble you're facing in and out of the club

the miya twins might've hung their heads in shame in which you waved at them to stop but osamu whispered his apology

everyone then puffed out their chests and promised to protect you from any form of danger which you twitch to how loud they acted

kita held your hand and brushed it, telling you that if you have anything to say, say it to them and akagi nodded vigirously, agreeing with his captain

same with ginjima who gave his sound effects with cracking his knuckles

the others were there to protect you as well

aran promises to be there for you and joking around to be your personal bodyguard, you feel tickled by this and punched him in the shoulder

everyone's comfort made you feel safe that's why you can easily go to school without any fans on your back because everyone was there for you, you could cry

but unfortunely a time has to come where they did caught up to you without you having any defense

the miya twins and suna planned a study group right after school and you accidently left some of your notes in class

you nervously scratched your neck mentioning this to them and they immediately pushed you back to get the papers

atsumu scolded you because of pettiness because he wanted to start after school and osamu flicked atsumu's ear because of his impatience

osamu and suna reassured you and asked you to get it back now

"i'll be back very quickly!" "ya better be!"

midway in the hall to your classroom you realized nobody accompanied you and your heart dropped and you feared to meet the duo who harassed you about your friends from day one

ah, the classroom's empty

perfect, you quickly walked to the classroom but someone's feet stopped you and you got slammed into the class' locker

(aw shucks, didn't see that coming)

"well, well what do we have here?" one was sneering in rotten irritation while the other chuckled at your humilation

they hit your head hard so whatever threat they said at first went over your head, literally

you wanted to escape so bad, she still gripped your vest harshly and the way her knuckles went into your chest made you pissed on how strong she was

you kicked one in the crotch so she could stumble back and you ran past her in the gap but the other hooked your leg in her arm

thank god when you fell, you guarded your face from the floor and managed to not bruise it from how hard you fell

groans still came out from the other girl as the one holding your leg, yanked you close to them

you kept fighting back, trying to desperately kick her chest which you could but she started twisting your ankle

"NO!-" "what's goin' on here?"

you looked up in relief and suna picked you up, placing your face in his chest while he coldly glare at the fangirls

he looked at you to see if there's any bruises and scratches and he was grateful you didn't have any

the twist wasn't that frightening so you didn't get a sprain

he also noticed you're empty handed so he whispered to you to get your belongings while he was busy glaring at the two girls shaking in their shoes

"i'm sorry-" "don't say a word just yet."

dang you kinda shivered there because his tone was assertive and scary, you looked back at him to see his dominant demeanor which made you more scared of him

when you got back to his side, he hugged you and kissed your temple and you got more suprised to what he did and he carried on like normal

"if ya dare hurt my beloved partner, i'll hurt ya back."

quietly stepping out the classroom and being further away from it made you breathe in deeply and he tapped your cheek to see if you're doing fine

"thank you.. suna"

you don't know what the hell was he going to do to the fangirls if they ever hurted you but you didn't care as you intertwine your hands with his

"about time, y/n~"

he pecked your temple again which you lightly punched his side and you both softly chuckle, countinuing your walk in peace while you struggle to contain your happiness

finally he confessed first and not you so all the burden on your shoulders were lifted

short bonus!

"i know for a fact he's confessing" atsumu murmured, deep in thought as osamu stared at his twin through his half lidded eyes and slowly agreeing with him

"if you try to imagine, how would he confess?" osamu hums, trying to think of a response for his brother

"will he be cheesy? pick up lines and all that-" atsumu cringed, imagining suna doing pickup lines to you

if he was you, he probably would reject him right away

"no.. he'll probably be sleek with it like i don't know.. AH I KNOW kiss-" "-them"

suna completed atsumu's sentence while kissing your knuckles which you snicker to when they try to regain their composure

and the evening ended with a unison of screaming from both the boys who were just discussing about their friend

[sallyf4ce]

wolves

chapter III

-> sallyfacexf!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, abuse, violence

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: (y/n) wakes up early to avoid sally. sally’s upset that he did something wrong yesterday. (y/n)’s first meeting with travis isn’t the nicest.

The incessant beeping of your alarm tugs you out of your dreamless sleep.

The sticky tears on the ground remind you of yesterday’s events, but you disregard them. All you want to do is take a shower, throw on your jacket and get out the door. You slowly clamber up off the ground and across the living room to turn off the alarm. After making sure it’s not on snooze, you drag your sore body to the shower. It smells like smoke and lots of cleaning supplies. This place is fucking gross. Is it even monday?’ you check the calendar. It is, in fact, monday. You strip and turn the shower handle.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

You're so glad that you chose to wake up early. Usually kids this far from school drive or get picked up by the bus, but you prefer to use your skateboard. That’s why you get up at 6:30, so you have enough time to get ready and get to school on time. Sanity’s fall quietly played as you washed your breakfast plate and cup, brushing grease residue off the greyish porcelain. You wonder if Sal is awake yet. Probably not. You know, waking up early ensures that you won't see him in the morning. The guy’s not that bad, his eyes just freak you out a little.

Pulling the pink glove off your prosthetic, you wipe your hands with a towel and move to the closet to put your shoes on.

“Jacket, jacket, jacket, jacket.” you mumble, eyebrows knitted. “Where are you?” oh, right, you left it in your room.. With poppy. Was that even her name? You kind of just decided it for her.

Alright, don't be a pussy. Just go in and grab the jacket. You sucked in a breath and opened the door to your room.

“Eeh! A teenager! What’s your name, little lady?” her blond ponytail bounced with every sentence. This was the first time you could get a good look at her. She didn't really have feet, just bloody stumps where they used to be.

“Holy fuck, you’re so loud!” your hands covered your ears.

“Ahh, so sorry! I haven't used my voice in years.” she coughs.

“S’ fine... Can I just- just grab my jacket?” you point at the green pile amidst the boxes all around the room. You didn't get a chance to set up.

“Go ahead!” she nods and smiles.

“Alright. uh, listen, lady. This-” you motion towards the whole room. “Is my room. I live here now. I get that you, like, can't leave this place and shit, but could you maybe sit quietly while i set up later? I really need to clean my room up. I’ll set up a little chair place for you or whatever, so you could sleep at night.” you mumble the last part, embarrassed about your hospitality.

“I can’t sleep.” she smiles, her teeth surprisingly shiny for a ghost’s. God, she’s so preppy that you forgot she’s dead.

“Pretend to then, i dont fucking know. Alright, i have to go. Just… don't cause trouble.” grabbing the jacket, you begin shutting the door. “My name’s (y/n), by the way.”

You can hear her squeals as you leave the apartment. You decide to take the elevator because you don't feel like running down the stairs with a heavy ass bag on your back.. Stepping in, you press the main floor button. It looks like there’s a bit of sticky stuff around it. gross. Syrup? You hoped so.

The elevator dings and you step out, heading out the front doors. It’s cloudy. Again. Not a surprise, really. Keeping your eyes on the gravel, you set down your skateboard and begin your journey to school.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sal’s point of view:

“She probably went on without us, man. Don’t know why you're worrying so much.'' Larry leaned back into the bus seat.

“It’s not that, Larry face. Yesterday, when we left…” was it my fault? Did i scare her? Did she see my face through the mask? Fuck.

“What is it? Spit it out, sally dude.” he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and puffed the smoke out the window.

“I think i scared her, larry. I think she saw my face.” i let out a shaky breath. God, everything was going good. Why the fuck does this stupid face ruin everything?

“Did you- did you take your mask off?” he sat up in the seat, eyes wide.

“No. She probably saw it through my mask.”

“I still dont get it. Explain more, dude.”

“She looked so scared. We made eye contact, and she, like, panicked. Her eyes widened and then she threw me out. It was definitely my eyes. We were fine the whole night, i dont know why she freaked out.”

Larry let out a long hum. He was probably trying to piece things together. Anyway, she definitely went to school earlier than us. I can ask her about it there.

“Woah, sally face. Calm down or you’ll go bald.” larry’s hands pulled mine off my pigtails. Huh, i didnt even notice.

“Thanks, dude. I think we’re here.”

Your point of view:

It was around eight o’clock by the time you arrived. Kids were already piling out of buses and cars, standing by the school’s entrance and conversing with their friends. You definitely felt some eyes on you. That was expected, though. They didnt recognize you, and nockfell didnt seem like a town with many new people. Thinking back to yesterday, sal and larry mentioned some bully kid. Probably wouldnt be hard to spot him.

“Watch it, goth freak!” a pair of hands gripped onto your shoulders.

Ah, what a coincidence.

“Get the fuck off me, fucking prick.” he twitched as you gripped onto his hands and pushed him away.

“Is that a metal hand? Ha, you’re a fucking cripple! How pathetic.” he chuckled. Blond hair draped itself across his forehead, definitely not complimenting the purple shade of his shirt and eye. School fight? or daddy issues? Who knows. I mean, you’re not one to speak, your dad’s literally dead.

“Let me guess, you’re that bully fucker they talked about. God, isnt there enough troubled kids in Nockfell?” you rolled your eyes, just wanting to get to school.

When you said you had bad luck, you really meant it, because all of a sudden, his fist landed on your face.

Are you fucking serious?

You just moved here yesterday and you’ve already been fucked up twice. You can’t keep taking hits, (y/n)! You gotta dish some out!

Sighing in disbelief, you reached out to your gushing nose.

“Mother.” you flicked the blood off your prosthetic hand. “Fucker.”

At this, travis bolts. You drop your bag and get back on your skateboard, weaving through the crowd to get to that shrimpy little fuck.

“I’m so fucking done with nockfell.” blood trails down the side of your face as you lock your eyes on the blond mop of hair in front of you.

Do you jump? Or let him get away?

Nah, you jump.

The skateboard shoots out beneath you as you kick off. He lets out a strangled cry as you land on his back and send him to the concrete. A few whoops can be heard from the kids far behind you.

“Fuck, i’m sorry! Get off me!” he scrambles beneath you.

“Now you’re fucking sorry?”

He doesnt say anything. You slowly climb off, keeping a hand on his neck.

“Pussy.” a snicker escapes you.

“What’d you just-” the hand on his neck squeezes tighter and shuts him up.

“What’s your name again?”

“Tr-travis, fuck.”

“Travis, huh? Well, travis-”

“(Y/n)? What are you doing on Travis?”

Sal’s point of view:

Me and larry were getting off the bus when we heard a bunch of cheering. Weird. I looked in the direction larry was staring. Hold on, that’s travis and some other kid on top of him.

“Sally face! I think that’s fucking (Y/n)! Holy shit!” larry shakes my shoulder. That’s actually her! What is she doing on travis?

“Larry, c’mon, we have to go get her off!” i try pulling him away, but he doesnt budge.

“No way, man! I wanna see her beat him up! She’s doing what you won’t let me do!” he smiles wide. Fuck, i guess i’ll just have to go alone. Larry frowns as i drop my bag and begin running towards them. I’m not letting her get in trouble on the first day. I hear her say something to him as i come closer.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing on travis?”

She looks up in surprise. Holy shit, she’s bleeding!

“I’ve gotten fucked up twice in the past 24 hours. I’m not letting this fuck get away with it.” She snarls. As bad as i feel, she’s kind of attractive, bloody and feral like that. God, what the fuck? Not time for this, sal.

“Oh my god, (y/n)! Here, uh, get up and i’ll take you to the office.”

Your point of view:

You look back at travis. There’s a visible blush on his face, and he’s staring straight at sally.

Oh.

OH.

A smirk forms on your face.

“No thanks, porcelain face. Me and blondie here will go by ourselves. Right?”

He growls, but you tighten your grip on his neck again and he nods.

“Uh, okay. Do you want me to take your skateboard or something?” Sal scratches his head and changes the topic. Just a sliver of jealousy can be found in him, but he is grateful for the nickname. It suits him.

Your expression darkens for a second, all of a sudden feeling possessive of your skateboard. He’s not touching it. It was your dad’s.

“No. Take my bag or something.” you nod towards it by the entrance of the school, where it sits. He obeys and gets up to pick up your bag. You pull travis up with you, blood dripping down your shirt and an arm around his shoulders. Sal’s quite a bit away at this point.

“You gay?” you hum. Travis’s back straightens and fear flashes through his eyes. How did you know? How the fuck did you know?

“No! Fuck you, you’re just a pussy who thinks she knows everything-” he starts yelling, trying to get away, but you interrupt him.

“God, shut up. You’re making my head hurt more. It’s okay, you know. I wont fucking tell anyone about your little self exploration journey.” you pat him on the back and he flushes.

“Fuck, you’re so sappy it’s disgusting.”

“I’m not gonna be a dick to someone because of their sexuality, fuckass. I’m not that low. Let’s get to the school.”

taglist: @dream-of-eros @potatochic2003 @mr-bombastic @purelydarling @ghostfacefricker6969 @deadpoetsandhoney

[vocalyunho]

Tangerine

pairing — Mingi x reader (fem)

genre — fluff, angst, friends with benefits au, smut (first time)

warnings & tags — reader uses a bratty attitude as a defence mechanism, Mingi’s soft side as well as his dom side make their appearance, semi-fwb to fully being fwb, power bottom! Mingi, kinda bratty & sub! reader, handjob, blowjob, praising, masturbation, mention of cunnilingus, fingering, choking, explicit unprotected sex, spanking, pull out method, mention of blood.

word count — 4.2k

synopsis — Mingi and her agreed to help each other out whenever they need it, but after this incident...how long will it take for them to realise that their agreement isn’t only an ‘agreement’ anymore? 

A drop of spit landed on her sternum as she slightly relaxed her jaw. The contrast between her body’s heat and the drop’s made her notice it as it slid down and tickled her a little. Mingi, carefully, ran his hands along the sides of her head, fingers dipping in the smooth hair until his hands met each other on the back of her head to hold her hair in the most loose ponytail. 

“you’re doing so well-”, his gaze is soft when she looks at him with mouth stuffed and eyes hazy “-so so well, baby”

Her tongue ran on the underside of his cock to show her appreciation for the validation Mingi offered her, and right afterwards, she slightly grazed his tip with her teeth. Mingi sighed at that, a sigh that was content and on the verge of becoming a moan. 

He pressed his hips forwards, as much as he could from the sitting position he was in. The couch screeched slightly and her hand gripped his thigh harsher in an attempt to bear the gag reflex that made its way to her. His tip found the back of her throat and her eyes watered in a second but Mingi could only see the flushed cheeks and swollen lips that had him wondering if it’s worth it, right now, to just stop everything and kiss her. It was, but he didn’t. Instead, he let himself enjoy the view of her tears making their way down her cheeks until they, somehow, disappeared.

“such a good girl -my godd”, his head fell on the back of the couch. The praise was simple and one she’s heard several times before, but that didn’t stop her knees from weakening even if they were already resting on the floor. She hollowed her cheeks, giving him a more intense pressure around the tip and Mingi groaned, letting his hands fall from her hair. y/n snickered mockingly, loving the effect she had on him and the next moment, Mingi barely took a few words out “d-don’t make me come-”, a sharp breath followed “-just yett”.

The demand had her slowing her ministrations in an instant...her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and her lips detached from him with a wet pop that echoed louder than she expected. Only her hand kept pumping him slowly, just enough to keep him hard “no?”

“no”

“did I do something wrong?”, she asked, looking up at him, even though she already knew she was doing great. Her only view of his face was his Adam’s apple that was dancing pathetically inside his throat while his chest rose and fell constantly and his hand was gripping the wearied fabric of the couch harshly.

“no”

“what is it then?”, she cocked a brow, though he couldn’t see her.

Mingi took a moment to calm down. He was way too close and he only realised it now that she stopped.

“I just- fuckk-”

As he had just managed to stabilize his breaths, she licked a stripe from his base to his tip making shivers wash his thighs. It wasn’t unusual for her to tease him like that, so the reaction didn’t go unnoticed and the mocking smile from before made its appearance again before Mingi tried his best to finish his sentence. “-want us to try something new”.

She tilted her head in confusion, “right now?”

“right now”

“all of a sudden?”

Mingi nodded and felt his heart tightening. He didn’t know how she’d react to his idea, especially since it wasn’t a part of their deal.

To him, y/n was the good girl that had his body shaking and his dick twitching just by the skills of her mouth and hands, and to her, he was the guy that had her legs quivering and her lips releasing lustful moans just by the games of his tongue and fingers inside her. They were only that for each other and just that...until now.

Mingi needed more, he’s been needing more for quite a while now, actually. He needs to feel her all over him, on him, around him, under him, however she likes as long as it is only for him, and he needs it desperately...even though it isn’t a part of their agreement.

He doesn’t only want her to wrap her pretty lips around his tip anymore, but to lay her lips upon his and to rest her tongue inside his mouth...he wants her to tangle her fingers in his sweaty locks and be able to look at her in the eyes as she does and he, especially, wants to finally hear her pretty sounds, all of them, without her trying to hold some back.

“I want you to ride me”, Mingi spoke fast. 

“what the fuck?”, was her first reaction “that wasn’t a part of our agreement”, she let him go.

“I know...you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to”

A moment of complete silence followed, with only their breaths -especially Mingi’s heavy one- echoing in the room. y/n looked as if she was ready to defend herself any minute and Mingi couldn’t blame her. What he was asking for, after all, wasn’t just a favour, he was asking her to lose her virginity to him and he was no one important or special to her.

Anyone reading this right now would’ve guessed that y/n isn’t a virgin, but appearance is often deceiving. Other than foreplay (lots of it), she’s never had penetrative sex with anyone before, as surprising as that may sound. That’s why Mingi was insecure about what he was asking for.

“I just thought-”

“if you want me to do that-”, she talked back fast.

Mingi waited to hear what she had in mind.

“-you'll eat me out twice next time I come over”, she said while standing up and trying to regain her balance because of her sore knees “you owe me for blowing you, anyway”

Mingi was the one who was taken aback now. Her first reaction had made him decide that there’s no way she’d agree, and now she wasn’t only willing to do it, but demanding and straight forward too. The stereotypes had taught him that when a girl decides to lose her virginity, she does it with someone she trusts and she’s shy and, maybe, a little scared before doing so. Mingi was either foolish enough to believe those stereotypes or y/n didn’t see virginity loss as something as important as others (he didn’t even consider the case of y/n actually wanting to lose her virginity to him).

“deal”

His heart skipped a beat at the images that flooded his mind. As she stood up and stripped herself from all the clothings, something inside Mingi told him that he had to see her breaking down for him, to see her real self, and he only realized what was going on when she straddled him. She managed to do it without touching his erection but once he was back to real life, Mingi gripped her sides and forced her to sit on his lap, trapping his hard on between their bodies. He did it on purpose and she knew it. The sensitive bundle of nerves on his tip sensed the wetness on the thin fabric of her panties, instantly, but she didn’t seem to care one bit. It was reasonable for her to grow wet, she was sucking him off, after all.

“do you have a condom?”, she broke the silence.

“fuck”

“you asked me to fuck you and you don’t even have a condom?”

“I hadn’t planned it”

She rolled her eyes “can you at least- pull out?”

“I think so”

“just warn me when you’re close, I don’t want you coming inside me”.

Mingi nodded in anticipation and guided his hand on her back, touching her feather-like, and travelling upwards until his hand met the back of her head and his eyes, y/n’s gaze. He forced her head forward until they were eye level with each other. She looked relaxed but he knew she wasn’t as chill as she seemed. Her heart was beating faster than every other time inside her ribcage and her breaths were jerky, that’s why he stretched his neck and got closer to her face. He let her feel his calm breathing for a moment before connecting their lips simply (kissing was a part of their agreement as a ‘mood maker’ only). Her eyelids fell shut and her hands rested on her thighs but the burn inside her was still hot and bothering. 

“no need for that”, he said as he broke the kiss.

“what?”

“your hands are shaking”

She looked at them and Mingi realised she wasn’t aware of it until he mentioned it. He rested both of his hands on top of hers, an action that was new both to y/n and him, since they haven’t been intimate in this way towards each other before. Everything they ever did was restricted to their primal needs and lacked any type of emotion, and this right now broke the second rule. 

She shook her head as if the shaking was nothing but Mingi didn’t take long to speak the first thing in his mind, “I’ll take care of you”. His thumbs caressed her knuckles and as much as she liked this side of him, she still tried to overlook it, she tried every time.

He’s always been good to her, praising her good job, complimenting the little details, giving her all the validation she needed...the complete opposite to her. She had never shown him a single hint of deeper emotion or given him the slightest praise. Even when his fingers were buried inside her, even when she was on the verge from the pleasure he gave her and even when he called her “baby”, she didn’t show him everything she felt. She fooled herself by thinking that she shouldn’t let it get to his head when, in reality, she was just scared. If she did show Mingi how he made her feel, he’d want to get better and give her more and...she’d fall for him. 

She didn’t want that but the fact that she agreed on what he had asked her for and the way her heart skipped beats at his words, said otherwise. She knew it, but she overlooked it again. Thus, she kissed him once more, only this time her hands rested on his bare chest.

Her lips moved smoothly against his in a slow yet needy pace until Mingi, suddenly, moaned. y/n smiled against his lips, barely grinding on his erection, loving the effect she had on him and careful not to make a sound herself. And as he was about to slip his tongue inside her mouth...she parted. Mingi chased after her lips but y/n lifted her body and held herself up on her knees as a careful hand found her underwear and slid it to the side. Dropping her head forwards, her pointer and middle finger massaged her clit for a bit before the neediest lip Mingi has ever seen of her, got trapped between her teeth. Her eyebrows furrowed, accompanying the bitten lip, and Mingi thought that if the expression on her face could take the form of a sound, that sound would be a breathy, ecstatic moan on the verge of turning into a needy meowl. If she only let him see that expression again, while he’s inside her, Mingi would be the happiest man alive.

He sat there, watching her in awe but the force of habit made him replace her fingers with his and stretch her hole by inserting two fingers in it, without even thinking. y/n’s breath got caught in her throat and her hands landed on his shoulders subconsciously, only for Mingi to pump them slowly to test the wetness at first. She had to be prepared for something larger so he added a third one, not long after, expecting her to moan out loudly as she always did, but she didn’t. Instead, she smiled and bit her lip in content at the new stretch. Her head fell backwards and her hand gripped the wrist that was working magic inside her but didn’t try to stop it. She let him speed up and give her the sweet stimulation she deserved.

“that was s-sudden”, she chuckled as if this was nothing, yet she was secretly loving it.

Mingi was already mesmerized by the view in front of him but that didn’t stop him from speeding up sensibly. Her wetness resounded with every thrust of his digits until he decided to bury them inside her and collide his palm with her clit. He curled his fingers while massaging the bundle of nerves, something he’s never done before, and y/n cursed. She clenched around him and that’s when she finally moaned loudly. 

Mingi couldn’t wait for the moment he’d see her reaction to him getting buried inside her. He didn’t know why he wanted that so much...he’d seen her reaction to his fingers and tongue multiple times before but something about her losing it over his cock, took him to heaven.

On the same side, y/n had always thought that if Mingi was this good with his hands, there’s no doubt he’d be ten times better with his dick. She was indeed a little scared of losing her virginity, but she was much more impatient to find out if her conjectures would get confirmed. Thus, when she felt the knot in her stomach tighten, she grabbed his wrist harshly and stopped his ministrations instantly.

“I-I thought you’d fuck me”, she said out of breath.

“I was preparing you”

“Do I look like I need fucking preparation?”

There it was again...that attitude that had Mingi needing her more. Her eyes were drowsy but her voice strong and in any other case, he would get mad at an attitude like this but when it came to her, he found it the hottest thing in the world. He wouldn’t lie if he said that sometimes, when he thought of the way she acted, he got helplessly hard at times that his hand was the only solution.

She stared at him but instead of getting a response, Mingi licked his lips and moved his hand from her, to his erection fast. If she wanted it now, she’d get it now. 

She was already keeping herself up on her knees, so he aligned himself with her core easily but instead of pushing in, he grazed his tip along her sensitive parts, taking the time to travel from where she needed him the most, to her clit and back again. 

“fuck”, y/n sighed, the new type of friction getting her weaker than she expected. Her legs trembled and Mingi noticed and exhaled in content, seeing how such little stimulation started tearing her wall of pride down, already. It felt like her previous bratty attitude stayed in the past as her brows raised in need.

She was just as cute as he always thought she’d be and when she rested her forehead against his (as a readiness indicator he thought), Mingi found the chance to push in, wanting to see her very first and honest reaction.

To say that she didn’t let him down would be only an understatement...her breath fanned his lips, her face scrunched up and her lips took the shape of an ‘o’, and all of this while a soft cry resounded in the small living room. He almost witnessed her real self. 

His tip was, for sure, larger than his fingers so her body going into autopilot mode, was understandable. She didn’t move one bit, so Mingi held her by the sides and started pushing her body down on him, slowly and gradually. Her voice broke more and more with every inch that was inserted and occasional ‘ah’s’ found their way out of her lips...it didn’t feel comfortable yet, it was painful for her. She’s never had something as big as this.

“fucking hell”

y/n shut her eyes in pain and Mingi let her take all the time she needed once he bottomed out, in order to get used to the stretch. They both knew she wouldn’t bleed (because Mingi was the one who had broken her hymen the first time he helped her out), but she still needed to adjust to something as new as this.

No words but only looks were exchanged between them when she tried to lift her body, and Mingi could’ve sworn to any God that tiny tangerine speckles danced in her eyes when she lowered and let him fill her again. A rough moan escaped him at the pressure she offered and after a few more knotty bounces her own pleasure sounds started making their own appearance. Her silk helped a lot and so did the slow pace.

It started feeling good sooner than she had expected and so, her arms rested on his shoulders as his, layed on her thighs. She moved agonizingly slow, often hissing at the girth, and once she got used to the sense, her body started asking for more. 

She went faster, just enough to gain more stimulation and Mingi moaned at that. His hands were caressing her thighs in the rhythm of her bounces, his eyes were glued on her face and even if y/n wanted to increase the pace, she wanted something else more. She had the need to see him take control. 

She wanted Mingi to do her as he pleased, to show her how he liked it, to be rough with her and to just...be at his mercy for once, but how would she ask for that without seeming weak?

She kept bouncing on him in a steady pace...Mingi was big, she knew that very well and he felt...perfect. Every time he got buried to the hilt, her walls tightened but Mingi wasn’t in the right state of mind to notice she was doing it on purpose. Instead he let himself enjoy it until his body started needing more and that need came out in the form of a groan that was deeper than his already deep speaking voice. He wanted her to bounce on him faster, to feel every corner of her, to feel his tip reaching her deepest parts.

“go faster”, he commanded but y/n continued moving as she was, like she didn’t hear him. Mingi tried to snap his hips upwards but it was impossible with both of them moving at the same time, so he said it again and louder this time.

“I said go faster”

y/n tried her best to keep her composure and talk to him, without her voice betraying how hard it was to think straight.

“why don’t you man up and fuck me yourself then?”

She said with effort and then stopped...with him buried inside her, twitching at the attitude she gave even now. Mingi’s eyebrows raised in surprise and y/n cocked a brow full of pride, because she knew exactly what her words were doing to him. She wanted him to ruin her and she’d get it the way she knew best...by provoking him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”, he tilted his head, obviously bothered by her comment.

“can you even fuck me properly or is fingering the only thing you can do well?”

Mingi’s tongue poked the side of his cheek at the frustration that washed his body. He didn’t want to go hard on her for the sake of this being her first time, but her attitude hadn’t given him a single break. There’s no way he would take it anymore.

“you really don’t think before speaking, do you?”

The provocative eyebrow disappeared when Mingi placed his hands on her ass and gripped each cheek harshly. A harsh slap resounded before he lifted and pressed her down on him with full force...and then he did it again and again and again and y/n found her jaw going slack. He didn’t hold himself back at all. Her hair moved in every which way and landed on her face messily, her arms wrapped around his neck, holding for dear life, her legs lost all their strength but Mingi kept it up. He got drunk on the slapping sound of her ass against his thighs and her high pitched cries and, maybe, he liked more than he should the fact that her lips ghosted over his...open and ready to be kissed. And he would kiss her if his mind wasn’t hazy and if he didn’t want to prove that, what she’s gotten herself into was brattier than her attitude.

y/n cried out in pleasure, he reached so deep that he hit every right spot, every part that had the burn inside her turn into a big fire and she’s sure she wants to feel that more often. Even though Mingi couldn’t do it, she did it herself. She captured his lips in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss as he still bounced her on him. It was messy, but she needed it and Mingi returned it feverishly. Their noses brushed each other’s, their breaths got mixed creating a heavy sound and they only parted when y/n cursed under her breath at the part he reached. 

“right there, baby?”

“pplease more”

“huh?”

“M-Mingi please”, she cried out.

They fucked shamelessly, not giving a damn about Mingi’s neighbours hearing them. They got addicted to each other’s effect. 

y/n lost herself when he wrapped his hand around her throat. His dominant side was better than she had expected. No one’s ever treated her like that and only now did she realise how much she liked it.

“you’ve gotten y-yourself into big trouble, d’you know that?”, he squeezed the sides of her throat making her yelp.

“ha-harder please”

“can you even ttake it?”

Mingi said before forcing her to come face to face with him. He kept her stable right where their lips almost touched and before y/n could connect them, he snapped his hips up. Her eyes rolled back and her jaw went slack. He found it, he found that one spot and with every thrust, he hit it harder and harder and harder until she went completely crazy. 

Her body trembled, her head was left on the will of his hand and her core tightened so much that Mingi felt his body burning. 

She cried out for more, though she couldn’t take it. Mingi knew he had reached her g-spot, her pathetic voice confirmed it but he didn’t complain...he felt better than ever before and he loved her sounds, he always did. You could say they were the ones that brought him to his climax right after hers.

Mingi thrusted fast until he suddenly left her throat and raised her body enough to pull out fast. He pumped himself with quick, small strokes as y/n fell messily on his thighs. Her hands found his chest and her face took an expression Mingi’s never witnessed before. 

Thick white liquid got spread on his thighs, right under her body but he didn’t notice it as his climax made its way to him. He let out moans, both rough and sweet, both needy and full of relief and came on his stomach and chest (some of it reached her hands too).

His arms fell on each side of his body lifelessly and his head fell on the couch as low curses showed how rough his high was. He breathed fastly and so did y/n who rested her upper body against his, not minding the cum that got trapped between their bodies. 

It took them a moment to calm down. y/n was so weak she could barely move, it was even hard for her to feel her legs and when Mingi looked at her form, he realised that all that attitude she gives, hides the version of herself she’s afraid to show. She needs someone to take care of her for once, for her to not have to take care of herself by her own all the time. She wants someone to take control and guide her. He wanted to kiss her softly and tell her that he could take care of her but when he gripped her sides and slid her upwards and closer to him, she hissed lowly. Her clit got dragged on his thigh and the sensitivity was unbearable but when she raised her head and looked at him with eyes drowsy and features soft, he couldn’t help but cup her chin and kiss her.

“you fucker...you’re good”, she whispered, resting her forehead against his and making him giggle.

“I’m even better at the missionary”

“next time?”

“for sure”

How long would it take for them to realise their agreement isn’t only an ‘agreement’ anymore?

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[slashmebois]

Overstimulation

“Mmmmmay I request slasher boys (I really really want HoW boys, but you can add anyone!) getting a bj from their s/o who just keeps sucking them even after they've already came? They just overstimulate them!”

 Gonna make these short-ish because I’m unfortunately very busy currently but I hope these are to your liking!!

 Bo

It’s late at night and Bo isn’t home yet, you bite your nails and stare at the clock, concerned about how late dinner will be. He finally walks in, breaking your thoughts.

“You took your sweet time” there’s an edge to your voice that you fail to hide, a result of your imagination taking you to dark places and reasons for why he wouldn’t be home yet.

He sighs throwing his arms in the air, “What? A man can’t get home a little late. D’you see the fuckers that came into town today? That guy was built like a fuckin’ truck”

You try to let it go but you’re kinda mad, “well, I didn’t know whether to cook or not so we don’t have any dinner.” You state it matter of fact, trying not to glare holes in him.

He stares at you, before barking out a harsh laugh, “What the fuck is this? You gotta problem with me?” he starts taking large steps towards you and stops barely an inch from your face, bending his neck to get right in your face.

You see the furious look in his eyes, but decide stupidly to push past the fear, “I’m just saying. I can’t start dinner if I don’t know when the fuck you’ll be home. Next time give me a head up, or is that too fucking much to ask asshole”

Well now you’ve done it. There’s a tense moment before his hand whips up to grab your face, smooshing it in his wide hands.

“Okay sweetheart I’ll give you your fucking dinner. Hell, should shut that preeetty mouth of yours up”, you can feel your blood running like ice through your veins.

He leans in close to breathe down your ear, “Get on your fucking knees and beg for it before I decide on a worse punishment”

You don’t need asking twice, having been on the receiving ends of those ‘worse’ punishments. You clatter down and look up at him, unbuttoning his jeans, “please daddy, please can you fill my mouth up with your cock”

He grins like a shark, “That’s a good start. Make it good and I won’t take this further”

You pull out his cock and rub your hands over it, giving him kitten licks on his tip.

“Fuck I love how your hands look wrapped round my cock. They can’t even reach all the way round huh?”

You open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out, waiting for him to take charge- you know he likes to take charge.

“That’s a good little slut” he purrs before slowly inching his cock all the way into your mouth, making a guttural sound as his balls reach your face and you reach you tongue out to lick at them.

The kitchen tiles are cold against your knees, but you barely notice, your focus directly on the panting man in front of you. The sounds of Bo’s loud groans fill the room alongside the lewd noises your mouth and tongue make as you slide them along his shaft.

“Fuck, god. That…uhhh…that feels so good doll. Don’t stop”

His hand is gripped tight in your hair, making you wince as he tries to stop himself taking control. All he really wants to do is fuck your throat raw but he knows better than to draw your ire. The last time you had held out on sex for a month, leaving him with only his hand as solace.

You’re taking long deep mouthfuls of his cock, hollowing out your cheeks and lavishing your tongue around the girth of it as his head hits the back of your throat, before pulling back and teasing his weeping tip with languish flicks of your tongue.

“Fuu…fuck. I’m gonna fucking cum soon. Tell me what you want baby. Hmm? You want daddy’s cum down your throat”

You smile sweetly up at him, hoping he’ll leave the punishment at this “please daddy, please give me your delicious cum. I want to taste it, I want it inside me” you savour how his eyes roll back before his grip on your head forces his cock back down your throat.

You can feel how his dick makes your throat bulge out, and his thrusts become more and more erratic. Just when you think you’re about to pass out from the lack of oxygen you feel the telltale twitches.

“You fucking want it so bad you little cumslut. Ungggghhh, take it”

His hot seed spills out into the back of your throat, coating it. There’s a lull as Bo comes down from his high, his breathing slowing and the glaze in his eyes lifting.

It’s then that a wicked thought hits you, your mind only slightly focused on revenge. You swallow his cum with his cock still in your mouth causing him to yelp. Then you start to run your tongue along the veins on his cock, causing him to yelp, “Fuck. Ahh-ah, that feels too good”

You ignore his pleas, figuring he’ll rip your head off his length if it’s really too much for him.

You suck on his throbbing red tip, as he judders his hips against you- unsure if he wants more or less. You keep bobbing your head along until he’s a mess of expletives and tears barely able to form sentences. His hands can’t seem to decide where they want to be until finally they manage to pull you off him.

Panting he gives you a dark look, “I’d suggest you start running before I catch my breath again”.

 Vincent

You had been messing around painting together, dabbing small fingerprints on the corner of Vincent’s easel when he wasn’t looking. Before long he had noticed the giggles coming from you each time he turned away and was onto your game- waiting for you to be distracted yourself before tackling you to the ground. From there it had turned into some light wrestling as you tried and failed to overpower him, being easily trapped again each time. It was easy to forget how strong he was…and it was amazing how turned on that made you.

“Vinnyyyy, let go. I didn’t do anything”

His mask-less face pulls into a lopsided jovial smile and he shakes his head at you knowingly, his eyes darting from your own eyes, down your body and back.

You try to squirm from under him, figuring if strength wasn’t on your side then maybe you could use your smaller size to your advantage. You quickly stop as you hear a groan from Vinny and feel his growing excitement against your stomach. You gasp and still, looking him straight in the eyes, a staring test ensuing. You’re the first to look away, his eyes blazing into your own- all hints of jesting gone from his features. You can feel the blush heating your face and pray he doesn’t notice. But he does.

Moving his grip on one of your arms to your hair he pulls you to his mouth, kissing you deeply and grunting into your mouth as he ruts against your stomach. You knew that if you didn’t act quickly you would skip the foreplay entirely in favour of getting pounded into the ground by him. Reaching your hand down you easily find his cock and rub your hand over it through his clothing, causing him to groan into your mouth again.

You pull away for air, determined to do the thing you haven’t found the chance to do with him yet, “Let me taste you Vinny” you whisper in his ear and you feel him shudder against you in anticipation, his hand coming up to grip your throat lightly as he turns to kiss you again.

He stands and pulls you up by the neck to your knees, you salivate at the thought of his cock fucking your sweet mouth. Quickly you help to strip down his dungarees and gasp as his cock springs free, the tip engorged and oozing precum. He stops, unsure of himself in this moment and you gladly take charge, leaning forward to lick a line from his balls to the head of his cock, he makes an appreciative noise and throws his head back.

His hand moves from your throat across to your cheek stroking it gently, as you take him in whole, slowly inching your way down him until his cock is filling your whole throat. You repeat the movement a few times earning you a plethora of sounds from the large man, before you speed up your movements, circling your tongue around him and using your hands to work the areas your mouth struggles to reach.

He finally looks down at you, panting and signs as best he can ‘your mouth is killing me’, you grin around his cock and wickedly take the tip only sucking hard as he yelps and grabs at your hair, making your scalpel scream in pain. An idea strikes you and you pull off his cock, leaving him slightly confused before you stand and pull him to the table, draping yourself backwards across it and opening your mouth wide to waggle your tongue at him.

His eyes widen, and he swallows, licking his lip before stepping forward and guiding his cock to your waiting mouth. He starts slowly but quickly gains momentum as he’s spurred on by the bulge his length makes in your throat.

Growling he signs sloppily ‘where do you want it’ and you realise he’s close. You sign back ‘shower me’ and he feels his soul ascend as he pulls out and paints your face and swollen lips with his cum.

He has to grip the table for support, trying to regain his senses after witnessing what he thinks may be his finest piece of art yet. You inch your way over to his semi-hard cock and guide it back into your mouth, causing him to moan and huff, his hand grasping at your throat again. He’s never experienced this before and bucks forward, the pleasure too much to handle.

‘your mouth. Too much. Fuck.’

You giggle and release him from the purgatory of overstimulation.

He sighs in relief and reaches up to wipe a thumb across your mouth, before rubbing the cum onto your tongue.

‘I think I found my new favourite activity baby’

 Lester

It had been a nice day so Lester had offered to take you on a ride through the country. Something about the way the sunlight reflected off your pretty features had him gulping and shifting in an attempt to hide his growing arousal. Being you though, you had noticed and cocked an eyebrow at him.

“What you looking at, gorgeous?”

“You, Lester”

His breathing hitches, “now why would you wanna do that. I’m nothing much to look at” he replies, those confusing feelings he gets around you swelling up like a wave.

You reach your hand towards his leg, running it from his knee up towards his groin. He nearly swerves in his efforts to stop the car, but once he’s flicked the engine off he’s scrambling to pull you to him. You meet in a clash of lips, tongue, and teeth. He keeps you there, stealing your breath like a drowning man, only pulling away once your lips are thoroughly swollen

He looks you dead in the eye, “This ain’t a dream right?”

You can’t help but giggle before you shake your head no, “I’ll prove it to you”

Your hands unbutton his trousers and you shove them down with a little help from his lifted hips.

He’s already hard as a rock, and you take a moment to feel all of him as you whisper in his ear, “your cock makes me so hungry Lester, can I taste it? Please Les?”

“Ohh god, please yes” he’s distinctly aware of the painful erection that he’s convinced only you can mend.

You kiss him hard again before trailing kisses across his collarbone and then down his chest, to his navel and finally to his leaking member. You kiss it the same way you’ve dreamed of kissing his mouth- slow, sensually and with your tongue. His whimpers reach your ears, and you glance upward to find that adorably he has his hand covering his face. You take that hands and bring it to your mouth, sucking on his fingers slowly. He makes little gasps as you do.

“Watch me baby, watch me Les”

He nods, unable to do anything else at this point. You lower yourself again but this time you take more of him into your mouth and suck hard, moving your mouth further and further onto him with each bob of your head.

When you reach his balls you swallow around his member and he cries out, “Fuu…oh my god. Y/N please, I need…oh my god”

You set a fast pace, using your hands to stimulate his balls. The forest is filled with the sounds of Lester and you are living for it, his own pleasure fuelling the slickness between your legs. You make do with rubbing your legs together for now. Lester must have noticed though, he reaches his hand under you to grasp at your chest. Your moan vibrates his cock and he sucks through his teeth. He rubs your nipple between his fingers, working it to a peak and flicking at it.

You can barely believe you’re finally doing the thing that has fuelled your solo sessions. You try to show it in your actions, trying to show Lester how much you worship him and his cock. You push yourself to your limits, allowing his large size to stretch your throat- gagging around him before coming up to suck greedy breaths of air into your deprived lungs.

With the pace you set it isn’t long before Lester’s breath turns ragged and he bucks up into your mouth, the only warning before his seed spills into your warm and wet maw. You’d be mad at the lack of warning but hell, it might be his first time.

“Fuck. Where the fuck they teach you how to do that?” he groans.

You’re about to answer when there’s a call from outside the car.

“Hey, you” A male voice calls out. Lester pushes at you protectively and you kneel in the small foothold of his truck.

“H-hey there sir, what can I do for you?” he manages, fumbling to button his trousers.

He allows you to take the material when you reach up, thinking you’ll button his trousers. What he doesn’t expect is to fill your mouth stretch around his spent dick and he jolts up slightly.

“You okay?” the other guy asks, before shaking his head, “look, I need some help. My car broke down.”

Lester is bursting, trying to hold himself together as he responds, “Uh..Uhhh yeah, I’m mm, I’m all good. You uhnn, you sound like you need a mechanic. You head down that trail and past the flooded area then ohhh, uh, then you’ll find Bo. Just uh, just ask for him” he is sweating from the pure effort of getting the words out as you overstimulate him, his cock leaking precum in a desperate effort to make it less painful.

The guy simple nods and dismisses the weird guy in the truck as being socially anxious. He walks off to his certain death, as Lester finally manages to rip your head off him.

“Hey now, that was just mean”

You smile up at him, wiping your mouth, “Sorry Les, you just taste so good”

[kirascottage]

maybe studying with lily in the library but youbget bored and start teasing her? or marlene wanting to give reader hickeys to remind you who you belong to 😵‍💫

a painters masterpiece

marlene mckinnon x gender neutral. reader

summary: marlene gives you hickeys.

word count: 0.8k

warnings: so short i’m so sorry, kissing, jealousy, marking/hickeys, possessive undertones

It was nearly humorous and undoubtedly would’ve given Sirius a good laugh. The way Marlene had blubbered every logical possibility to a certain classmate carefully keeping his (As Marlene properly described it) “Feral” eyes on you.

But one foolish thing she couldn’t grasp was that you truly expressed no conscious intent on playing this innocent boy along in his delusional fantasy.

“Oh, C’mon. It’s so obvious that he likes you!” Marlene’s usual modulated tone pulled into a shrill whine, a pause in her legs causing you to remain stoic beside her as she justly complained about the certain Ravenclaw for the past twenty minutes.

“Marls, he’s like two years younger than us. It’s just an adolescent crush.” You promptly began to bargain with her as she droned on about the boy.

“Well, I have to do something!” She exclaimed dramatically whilst flailing her arms around. After her melodramatic inquisition, she had begun marching triumphantly down the corridor to Transfiguration whilst tugging your hand firmly by her side.

She was absolutely hysterical.

Well, that was the main thought till Michael Schneider, said Ravenclaw, had strutted up to you with every confident bone in his body after classes and ultimately made a pass at you for a date to The Three Broomsticks. What you had invariably failed to know was the striking brunette with her books nervously clutched to her chest carefully surveying the scene. Sneaky.

At your denial he had sighed in defeat, politely bidding you a farewell before you were off to the Gryffindor tower in a hunt where she had scurried off to. You impatiently muttered the unique password with a blip of anticipation zooming through your mind, the blip recurring as the hoarse taps of your feet against the aging stairs became more prominent in a quick endeavor to find your girlfriend.

Your knuckles collided against the mahogany door twice to establish your presence known, noticing the door-nob of the door turn hastily, your brows scrunched as she was heaving and pacing with her legs moving left to right as if she was racing someone on the other side of the door.

“Why do boys always make passes at you!”

Her voice rathers a statement and a question, resuming her pacing till you sat on her bed with a chuckle breaking Marlene out of her trance. “Does absolutely nobody know you have a girlfriend for Merlin's sake?” You muffled another snort with the back of your hand as she continued.

“What?” She looked like a madwoman, her fingers digging into her temples and her chest heaving from practically running around the room.

“Marlene,” You spoke suddenly, a softness built in your gentle tone; removing yourself from the bed you slowly walked over to her, both of your hands conjoining with her own. “I don’t have interest in anyone but you; so don’t let that pretty little mind of yours drift off to overthinking land, alright?”

She breathed fervently while her eyes moved erratically over your unalloyed features, “Just shut up and kiss me.” Her urgent demand inevitably coming to action at the fervid kiss strategically placed against your lips.

The bruising kiss escalated tremendously at the impact of your spine melding with her bed with her eager hands capturing your face amid the impassioned kiss.

Her nimble fingers eagerly carded through your locks, as the swell of her tongue crept into the opening of your distended lips.

The kiss was messy, sloppy even but far from being amateurish, the considerable skill of her tongue plunging into your mouth with such desperation of proclaiming you as hers; far from possession (For the moment) but a reminder of her presence and admiration for you in her life.

The fervent kiss suddenly broke, and her lubricated lips from your tongue, now, suctioning at your jugular with a yearning desire of your commendation.

“Marlene,” Your voice hushed into a faint whisper. Her vocal cords collided together and created a small Mhm in mutual acknowledgment against your neck. “May I—“ Your sentence cut short at your heightened breath, “—Ask what you’re doing.” Your words stumbled out into a stutter.

“Showing everyone you’re mine.” Her voice deteriorated into a tantalizing whisper; her crimson lips naturally progressed to your pulse point lifting a muffled whimper larynx. The blossoming bruises painted across your collarbones and pinpointing at the tender skin of your jugular once again.

Her words were almost sardonic, a newfound possessive nature in her tone. Her head tilted as it was promptly removed from the crevice of your neck, a bordering gasp reluctantly releasing from your lips as her fingers dragged faintly against the canvas of your flesh painted in emerging contusions.

“What are you doing now?” Your words were spaced out between ragged breaths, asking once again as her lips twitched up-words; “Admiring my masterpiece.”

taglist: @shadesofvelma @anything-forourmoony @sprucewoodlover

[marvelouspeterparker]

baby boy

pairing: sub!peter parker x reader

request number twenty-seven: can you do sub!peter parker getting overwhelming attention to the point he’s trembling and whining loudly 👀

word count: 3k+

notes: well it’s smut so...you know. (also i don’t like the word mistress so peter doesn’t call the reader that in this.) 

Peter was acting extremely nice today. Not that he wasn’t always nice, but when you woke up he was just admiring you, his hands to himself instead of the usual mornings where he would be feeling you up and cuddling you tight––his movements confident and certain. That meant one thing and one thing only...You would be in charge today. You could tell he was going to be needy today and you were more than ready for it.

His eyes were following your every move today like a lost puppy. He was always ready to help you, constantly asking if you needed anything. He was trying to get brownie points and be good, since the last time he acted out, let’s just say––he learned his lesson.

He knew that to get what he wanted, he had to behave. He thought that would make it easy for him.

So you being you, had to make it a little more of a challenge. 

Peter was practically glued to your side the whole day. You had been sitting on the couch for hours now. It was 6pm now and you still hadn’t touched him. When he was like this, he couldn’t even kiss you unprompted, he needed you to reach out. You’d never explicitly said he couldn’t touch you, subconsciously he just felt as though he shouldn’t. He felt that instead, he should earn it. 

You could feel his eyes boring into you as you scrolled through your phone. Fighting back a smirk, you asked, “Do you need something, Peter?” He hated when you called him that when he was like this. He preferred Pete and literally any other nickname. More specifically one in particular.

He grumbled at the sound of his name, looking down at his hands. “N––No...”

You still didn’t look up at him but you could see him glancing up at you from the corner of your eye. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure you need something,” you said teasingly.

His eyes narrowed. You knew exactly what he needed, didn’t you. He wanted to just say it, he really did but he was feeling so shy and under, he couldn’t even speak. “N––Nothing.” 

You were a little disappointed that he didn’t take the bait, but you weren’t giving up just yet. You caught his eye and his breath hitched when he noticed the look in your eyes. “Okay, baby boy.” There it is. The one nickname that would have him do whatever you please, whenever. If that didn’t break him, nothing would.

His eyes widened and an involuntary whimper escaped his lips. You simply shrugged, since he supposedly didn’t need anything and went back to your phone. 

Next thing you know, Peter was on his knees in front of you, his hands clasped together in his lap. You moved your phone to the side and looked down at him, quirking a brow. You spread your legs and he took the hint, leaning forward to rest his head on your lap, his hands resting gently on your thighs as he looked up at you. 

“I need you...Wanna love on you.” He nuzzled into you further, “Want you to touch me. Please...” He pouted.

You brought a hand down to run through his curls and he leaned into your touch like a kitten. Normally when you pet him like this you would call him your good boy, praise him in some way. Today, you were going to make him work for it. He grumbled in protest at the lack of praise, shoving his face further into your leg. You almost laughed at his reaction, but you weren’t going to be that mean. 

He perked up suddenly, knowing just how to get your approval. He kissed your thigh softly, “Can I please taste you, honey? Will you let me do that? Will you let me make you feel good?”

You almost said no, but to be honest, as the day ran it’s course and you could feel just how much your boy needed you, you had gotten pretty aroused yourself. You admired him for a bit, just soaking up this moment. You could feel him getting more eager as you bit your lip, watching him. 

You tapped his cheek twice and he sat back on his heels, swallowing thickly as he waited for you to respond. 

Setting your phone aside without taking your eyes off of him, you stood up and pulled your sweats down. As you stepped out of them, Peter licked his lips, taking you in. You were now just in his shirt and he could feel his member swell up even more in his pants. 

You were about to pull your panties down when he spoke up, his voice small. “Can I?” He looked like a puppy. How could you say no to that?

You nodded, lifting the shirt up past your waist and he got up on his knees. But before his hands could reach you, you tutted, “No hands.”

Peter moaned softly and kissed up your thigh, looking up at you after every touch of his lips to your skin. When he reached your hips, he grabbed the waistline of your panties with his teeth before slowly dragging them down your legs as best he could. You stepped out of them and sat back down before teasingly taking your time to spread your legs. 

When you noticed he still hadn’t moved, you spoke up. “Go ahead, Pete.”

He pouted up at you, leaning his head towards your hand and you realized what he was waiting for. You thread your fingers through his curls and tugged his head towards you. He grinned up at you sinfully before finally licking up your folds and moaning at your taste, his hands planted firmly on the ground––He missed this.  

His eyes were closed and he was humming and moaning into you, lost in the feeling of your thighs around his head, your fingers in his hair and your taste on his tongue. He was completely under your control. 

He was desperately trying to get you to cum, only focused on you. You’d pull him back every now and then, controlling his actions and he’d whine every time he lost contact with your heat, whining lowly in the back of his throat, his eyes still closed.

He was taking his time, licking all over, lapping away at your clit, alternating between leaving long and slow open mouthed kisses and sucking. 

He got you to the edge rather quickly and he was ready to have you cum all over his face, but you had other plans. You pulled him away roughly, and it took all your self control to resist your nearing orgasm. He growled, annoyed as he looked up at you. 

“Why?” his voice was wrecked and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send tingles through your body. 

You slid your hand down to his cheek, rubbing the skin softly as you got up. Seeing you standing above him like that made him feel so small, but it made you seem so powerful and he loved that. 

You brought your hand under his chin and slowly tilted his head up as you bent down. His hands slid up your legs and rested on your thighs and he closed his eyes, letting his lips part slightly. You leaned towards him, letting your breath hit his lips and he strained his neck to try and reach you but you moved your head to the side, letting out a small laugh.

“Go to the room, sweetie.” 

His eyes shot open and he perked up, nodding immediately. “O––Okay.” He quickly made his way to the bedroom while you took your time cleaning up the mess you guys had made throughout the day. 

It was about 10 minutes later that you finally decided to step into the room. He sat up attentively on the bed at the sound of your footsteps, eyes wide. He had stripped down while you were gone. You looked next to him and saw that he had gotten out one of the silk ties you had bought together for times like these. Just in case.  

You closed the door and made your way over to the bed. “You weren’t touching yourself, were you?”

“N–No ma’am. I promise.”

You hummed and he sighed unsatisfied at the lack of praise. “Lay down on the bed. Keep your hands above your head, baby. Can you do that for me?” You decided you weren’t going to use the restraints today. 

He spoke up as he raised his arms above his head, “Can I see you, miss? Wanna see how pretty you look.”

You smiled and reached for the hem of his shirt before pulling it over your head. His breathing got heavier and you could have swore you saw his cock twitch at the sight of you, only boosting your confidence.

You took a seat on his thigh and he sighed at how wet you were, remembering how you interrupted him before he could give you an orgasm. 

“Are you gonna sit on my face, honey? Want you to ride my tongue. You didn’t let me finish before...” 

You tilted your head as you moved your hips slightly, making him hiss. “You wanna make me cum?”

He nodded eagerly, “Wanna be good for you.” 

You hummed, pretending to think it over. “I don’t think you deserve that just yet.” He barely had any time to react before you wrapped your hand around his base, pumping him, using his pre-cum as lube. 

“Shit––” he whined, swallowing as he tilted his head back in shock. 

You took your time touching him. His sighs and moans were like music to your ears and you did everything you could to keep on hearing them––that meant edging him over and over. He could tell why you were doing this, what it was doing to you––you were practically dripping all over his leg, even grinding against him from time to time. 

This was the third time you had brought him right to the edge. He was right there. And you pulled away from him, hissing at the way his thigh clenched under you.

“Fuck...” He sounded so defeated as he looked up at the ceiling. 

You slid your hand down his chest, feeling his abs tense under it. He was hot and sweaty and you’d never wanted him more. You climbed off of his thigh and made your way up his body, resting for a moment on his chest and he perked up immediately, his lips parting as he looked up at you almost impatiently. 

You brought a hand up to his cheek and he leaned into your touch. “Do you think you can finish what you started earlier, babe?” He nodded before you even finished your sentence and you smiled at him, getting into position. He dropped his hands to his sides, getting them out of your way since he wasn’t allowed to touch you just yet. 

He leaned forward before you could even settle in. You had made a mess all over is thigh and he knew how much you needed this, so you couldn’t even be mad. 

His tongue was eagerly making it’s way through your folds, expertly making you near your high. Since he couldn’t feel you like he normally would, his eyes were open, watching your every move and reaction. He was working so quickly, you realized soon enough it was because he didn’t want you to pull away before he could get you to finish like the last time. 

He started moving his head from side to side, humming into your heat. You gasped, your hips bucking away subconsciously at the overwhelming feeling and Peter was quick to strain his head to continue his actions. Soon your hips were rocking back and forth, properly riding his tongue like he wanted. He stuck out his tongue and let you have your way with him and within minutes you were reaching one of the most intense highs you’ve ever had. 

Peter licked up your release, cleaning you up with his tongue, before kissing your clit and settling back down, looking up at you with a smile, proud of his work. Normally, he would keep going, holding onto you tight as he continued, until you physically pushed him away––he just loved to make you feel good. But today was different.

You moved over and took your place back on his thigh, jumping a bit at the contact, still sensitive. “Always so good for me, baby” you rubbed his thigh softly, letting him bask in the praise for a moment, before sliding your hand up to his cock again. 

With how many times you’d already worked him up, he was already so close. 

His hands gripped the sheets at his side. “Baby please?” his voice was completely broken from all the cries and whimpers he’d been letting out over the past...however much time it’s been. To be honest his thoughts were a little clouded right now, all he wanted was to cum for you. To be your good boy. 

You looked up from your hands which were slowly, teasingly bringing him to the edge to look at him. His cheeks and chest were flushed pink, his hair was wild from all his incessant hair pulling and all the veins in his arms were prominent as his hands strained to stop himself from touching you.

No touching until I say you can, baby boy, you’d said. That’s when Peter knew it was going to be a long night. 

You were torturing––no killing him. Yet there you were, calm as ever, a smirk on your lips.

“Mm what is it baby?” you teased.

He whined loudly, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall back into the pillow and you squeezed him hard, making him open his eyes again, remembering the rules. Use your words.

“Pl––please princess” he only ever used that name when you two were playing like this when he was utterly submissive, completely letting you take the reins. There was absolutely no chance of him fighting back––he was yours. “Please,” a tear escaped his eye, “Wanna be good for you. Wanna cum. Please please please.”

You simply hummed in response, before reaching up and wiping his tear, and went back to focusing on his cock. You slid a hand down to squeeze his balls and he bucked up into your hands, subconsciously trying to chase his high. You took your hand off of his length to slap his thigh and he dropped his hips, apologizing quietly as you continued your torture. 

“Can I cum, princess? Can I please? Your hand feels so good, so so good. Wanna so bad...” He always started rambling like this when he was really out of it, so far in his headspace he was like a little puppy. 

You let go of him and he whined loudly but as soon as you climbed on top of him, he quiet down. 

You grabbed a hold of him and slowly slid him in inch by inch until he bottomed out. The both of you let out a string of moans as you started bouncing up and down on his cock. It was taking everything in him not to buck up into your pussy. 

“I’m gonna cum baby, I’m gonna––Oh my god I––” his rambling was cut off abruptly as if someone had punched him in the gut. In a sense, it was kind of similar, given the fact that you had ripped his orgasm away from him when he could practically almost taste it. He let out a broken cry, his eyes squeezing shut as you panted on top of him, his cock throbbing inside of you as you sat on top of him, a hand on his chest, partly to keep yourself up and partly to keep him down. 

You gave it a minute before you started moving up and down again, tantalizingly and almost painfully slow. The sound that came out of him sounded almost like a wail and you couldn’t help but feel a little bad. 

Deciding you’d had enough fun for the night, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his––he quickly opened his mouth, letting you take control of the kiss. 

You leaned forward so that your knees were pressed down into the bed and your head was in the crook of his neck and you heard and felt him gasp, knowing what was about to happen. You smiled, leaving a bruising kiss on his skin before whispering in his ear, “Do your worst, baby boy.”

He grunted and his eyes actually rolled to the back of his head. Only you could have such an effect on him with just your words. He wrapped his arms around you and placed his feet up on the bed, bending his knees before pounding into you at a merciless pace. You whimpered into his neck and that was all the motivation he needed to keep going. Normally anybody else would be far too tired after all this to have this much energy and enthusiasm, but Peter was special. 

You could tell he was close, and you couldn’t blame him after all that torture. But you were surprised and even jumped a little bit when you felt one of his hands slip down to rub at your clit. “Oh fuck, Pete––”

“Need––Need you to cum.” He panted. No matter what, he always put you first. 

“Okay, baby.” You kissed his neck softly, rocking yourself back into him to get there faster. The sound of your skin slapping against his was so loud and so so hot, you knew it wouldn’t take you long. 

Peter’s pace was unrelenting and he was hitting the right spot over and over again, having learned your body and what makes it tick for some time now. With a few more thrusts of his hips and flicks of his wrist you were tensing on top of him and cursing into his neck. 

You quickly snapped out of your haze, remembering you had to take care of him. His pace was faltering as he was getting closer, still unsure if this time you would let him cum. “Can I cum, princess? Pretty please? It hurts, I––I’m gonna––Can I?” 

You could hear the desperation in his voice and though you’d do anything to hear him like that all the time, he’d been good and he deserved a reward. Knowing exactly what to do to make this the best for him, you reached a hand up and wrapped your fingers around his throat, squeezing gently before licking your way up to his ear and whispering “Cum for me. Want you to fill me up, baby.”

With that, he let out the loudest, fiercest moan you’ve ever heard come out of him, his hands digging into your waist and your ass, certainly bound to leave bruises as he released inside of you. His thrusts slowed down and the both of you whimpered at the sensitivity. 

He sighed and turned his head to leave a kiss on your cheek and you hummed happily, your eyes still closed. Before you could drift off though, Peter spoke up. “Can I please clean you up?”

After getting your approval, he carefully flipped the two of you over and quickly made his way down your body, making sure to kiss every spot he could, before burying himself in you, murmuring something along the lines of Good boys always clean up their messes. Your back arched and you hissed as his lips wrapped around your clit. Doesn’t seem like cleaning up to me, you thought. 

He laughed sheepishly as if he could hear your thoughts, before actually doing what he had promised, licking up the mess between your thighs, “Sorry, baby.” 

He took his time cleaning you up, as if his tongue was exploring you for the first time. He was enjoying this. He looked up at you, pulling away for a second before putting his lips right back where they were, “We taste so good together, princess.” 

“I know, baby.” 

He smiled innocently as he finished up, leading his kisses to your inner thighs as he looked up at you. 

You put a hand down to play with his curls and he nuzzled into your touch yet again. You looked into his eyes, a smile on your face. “Good boy.”

He grinned so wide, finally hearing those two words he’d been waiting for all day. Moving back up your body, he stopped when his face was mere inches from yours. You grabbed him before he could ask, locking your lips with his in a passionate wet kiss. He whimpered into your mouth and you couldn’t help yourself, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed him back inside of you and the both of you gasped at the feeling. 

After a few more moments, the both of you pulled away and Peter looked at you fondly before kissing your forehead and resting his head on your chest. 

Your hand found it’s designated spot in his hair again and he sighed happily, nestling into you. You could feel him getting hard again inside of you so you spoke up, knowing if you let him he’d go again right away, without taking a well needed break. “Let’s take a nap, okay, bub?” 

He nodded, already drifting into sleep.

“Then we’ll see what you wanna do when we wake up.”

“Oh I’m definitely gonna wanna go again.” 

You let out a small laugh. This boy was insatiable. 

[hb-writes]

Gestures of Fairness

Summary: Set in 1927 in the Little Lady Blinder universe. Thomas Shelby isn’t ticklish, at least that’s what a few decades of Clara’s intel says. Charles and Clara test the theory of his god-like ability to remain stoic in the face of writhing fingers. 

Inspired by this request: I am not sure if you would write this but I thought of something pretty adorable. Clara finding Tommy’s ticklish spot. Ugh. I can just imagine how adorable 🤣🤣🤣

Featuring: Tommy, Charles, and Clara (Shelby sister)

Charles’s breath tickled Clara’s ear and neck, his small hands clasped around her neck as he told her his secrets, warm puffs of air accompanying his confiding words. Their ragged breathing, interspersed with bouts of snickering, had filled the walls of Tommy’s office for only a few minutes, Charlie having chased his aunt there before they both tumbled to the carpets, immersed in a tickling struggle so immersive not even Tommy’s more irritable of glances or throat clearing could bring a stop to it. 

 “But daddy’s not ticklish, Charlie,” Clara offered, her voice a bit hushed though not quite a whisper as she looked into her nephew's mischievous eyes. 

She rested her head back into the carpet, tilting her head to see her brother as her nephew rolled away from where he had landed half on top of her, reclining beside her on his back. 

Tommy glanced their way for only a moment now, acknowledging their presence but offering nothing more now that they'd settled. He was in the middle of something, always was, and despite his throat clearing and glaring, Tommy hadn’t sent them out, so Clara stayed there with her nephew, the two of them lounging on the carpet. 

“Every single person in this family is ticklish,” she continued, reaching under Charles’s chin as he giggled, quickly catching her hand and pushing her away. “But not your dad, as if he’s a god or something, safe from the disparaging attacks that bring mere mortals like you and me to our knees.”

Charles tilted his head back as Clara had done, looking at his father upside down from the carpet.

Charles turned back to his aunt and whispered the words, “But he’s not a god.” 

Clara snorted and observed her brother again, certain Tommy heard them though he no longer seemed to be paying their conversation any mind. 

The boy was right. Thomas Shelby, despite all the pretenses, despite the power and the glares and the titles, was not a god. But, mythical deity or not, Tommy was seemingly impervious to tickles and had not a single weak spot, a feat of seemingly divine providence considering how the rest of them fared in the same situation, and his unaffected guise certainly wasn’t from a lack of a search on the part of the other parties involved. 

Though for many years it was only Finn and Clara receiving tickles, the twins began reciprocating the attack quite early on, their pudgy toddler hands squirming in the same spots the other Shelbys used on them, in the crook of the neck and under the chin, at the sides of the torso, and deep in the underarms or across a sock-clad foot whenever they could gain access to it.

John was the first one Finn and Clara had any genuine luck with, the spot under his chin so sensitive that even their imprecise attacks brought on a bout of genuine laughter, the man entirely compelled to it while the others were simply amused by the babies and their often inexact attempts. 

Then came Ada’s demise, the twins pouncing on her together one morning while she enjoyed a late lie-in. They’d found Ada’s most ticklish spots without delay, just behind her knees, and for a long time, it took a true partnership between Finn and Clara in order to make it happen, both bodies needed to hold Ada’s thrashing body down well enough. 

It was the soles of Arthur’s feet that were his downfall, as well as the very reason why he almost never slipped his shoes off when he was at the family home on Watery Lane, but Clara had caught him twice since he moved out to the country, his sock-clad feet propped on an ottoman as he napped in a chair, starting a ruckus that had everyone but Linda in a fit of giggles, though she’d at least smiled at them, pulling Billy up and out of harm’s way, the harm being the two siblings tousling on the floor as Arthur sought out retribution for his sister's childlike crimes. 

They got Polly once, Finn’s hands grazing at the back of the woman's neck, but she’d threatened the two of them so severely and with such striking detail of what would be coming their way at a second attempt that they never even considered trying it again. 

Even Michael was ticklish, in the very same spot as his mother, actually, and before he was gone to America, Clara never tired of passing a set of cold fingers along the back of her cousin’s neck while she walked behind his desk or when he was focused on a bit of paperwork they were going through together. There was something so delightful about the shriek that came through his lips, well worth the smack that usually accompanied it, a reflexive movement of Michael’s that usually left her hand stinging well beyond the humor of the moment subsided.

Tommy’s weak spot was an enigma though because for several years he had been quite adamant that he wasn’t ticklish at all and quite adept at hiding any sort of response if he was lying. It always had been that way for as long as Clara could remember, even before the war, Tommy being passive and stoic in the face of tickles. Even Polly and Charlie and Arthur couldn’t recall if there was ever a spot where they’d even once been able to get a giggle or the hint of a smile out of him when he was small. 

Clara turned over to her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows, watching her nephew as he crossed the room and climbed into his father’s lap, separating Tommy from his papers. 

“Auntie Clara says you’re not ticklish.” 

Tommy smirked, eyebrows raised as he met his sister’s eye from across the room. 

For two children who screamed and thrashed about when they were tickled, it baffled Tommy how often they engaged in the practice amongst themselves or broached the topic with people who could easily have them writhing on the floor within seconds. He supposed Clara and Charles didn’t hate it as much as they sometimes put on, even enjoying it up until a certain point so long as it stopped when requested.

“Your aunt would be correct," Tommy answered, settling back in the chair.

“But everyone’s ticklish, Dad.”

Charles had never met a person who didn’t share the affliction, though his exposure was limited to that of his family and the staff of Arrow House, but Clara hadn’t met a person with immunity to such a thing in her life either, so the sentiment held as far as she was concerned. 

“Not me,” Tommy answered. “Your aunt and uncle have tried unsuccessfully for almost two decades.”

“Can I try?” 

Clara pushed herself off the floor at Tommy’s nod, a bit impressed with the allowance. She’d figured over the years that Charles had a higher probability of getting a yes out of her brother, and she’d used that to her advantage the same way her siblings had once used her, sending Charles off to garner Tommy's permission for something whenever he was sullen rather than asking after things herself, almost certain the boy could get a yes when she’d get a no. 

“Three attempts, my boy, and then you can take your aunt out and keep her out of trouble for me until dinner, eh?” 

Clara rolled her eyes, leaning against the side of Tommy’s desk, just a pace or so away from them. “Why only allow him three if you’re not ticklish?” 

“Because I have business,” Tommy answered, nodding towards the papers scattered across his desk.

“Always with the business," Clara mused. "Always frowning at your paperwork all Sunday afternoon.” 

“That’s why we need to find where he’s ticklish, so he can laugh.” 

Clara snorted and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyebrow raising just a bit. “Well said, Charlie.” 

Tommy looked about to say something but Charles jabbed his hand into the space beneath Tommy’s chin, the spot most obvious to the boy since it had always worked for him and his Aunt Clara and Uncle John, but Tommy barely responded to the intrusion, his body almost entirely still as Charles continued his assault, the boy’s hand finally dropping with a huff after a second endeavor in the same spot.

Charles then poked his fingers into Tommy’s stomach, another unsuccessful experimentation, a bewildered hum coming from Charles’s lips before the boy reached out again, this time his fingers barely grazing the side of his father’s ribs before Tommy trapped the small hand in his. 

“You’ve already had three.”

Clara narrowed her eyes, stepping closer to them. “You’re cheating, Tommy.” 

“How am I cheating?”

“Because he—”

“I only had two tries!” Charles shouted before Clara could get the words out herself.

“You went twice under the chin and once in the stomach,” Tommy answered in an even tone. "One and two is three."

“That’s not fair!” Charles pouted.

“Life often isn’t. Best to learn that now,” Tommy said as he slid Charles from his lap to the floor. “A good lesson to you both.” 

Clara knew well enough the world wasn’t fair, knew well enough that her brother wasn’t often very fair either, but her young nephew had no need of coming to expect that type of unfairness in life, and certainly not at such a young age. 

“Maybe the world isn’t always fair, but family should be,” Clara said. “You’re cheating your own son, Thomas.”

Clara saw it, she knew she did, a small tremble in Tommy’s cheek when Charles’s fingers grazed his ribs. The rest of him had stayed still, immersed in perfunctory indifference to his son’s pursuit, but Clara saw the twitch. Without the distance, without her being a casual observer, she never would have noticed such a small movement, the well-disciplined facade of her brother almost concealing it.

Tommy wasn't sure which part of her sentence he wanted to go for first. The accusation or the 'Thomas,' but in his deliberation, Clara filled the silence herself.

“And me,” she offered. “You’re ticklish. I saw.” 

Clara stepped in front of her nephew. “He touched you right—”

Tommy grasped her outstretched hand. “Enough.”

Clara pouted as she pulled her hand back. “You’re no fun.”

“I have calls to—”

The twitch was more pronounced when Clara dug her fingers into his side, the hint of a smile there on Tommy’s face as he jolted, some small noise merging a laugh and a throat clearing coming from his lips. But the moment was gone almost as quickly as it had come on because Tommy caught her, his hand firm around her wrist.

Clara recognized the message. To anyone else, it might have read as an adult telling a child they had reached their limit and were edging towards trouble, or as a gangster threatening a subordinate to fall back in line, but grasping the wrist was precisely the same gesture of fairness Clara and Charles adopted between the two of them, an irrefutable request to stop, a removal of consent for a game no longer being enjoyed, and Clara understood that her long-pretending brother was indeed ticklish, but unlike her and Charles and the others, not even a small part of him enjoyed it. 

Clara smiled at her brother though his hand still held her wrist, the tightness of his grasp uncomfortable enough she wasn't eager for it to continue for long. Though a part of Clara was giddy at finally solving over a decade's long riddle and more than a bit entranced by the idea of an encore, she’d not discredit the nearly sacrosanct vow indicated by the gesture she and Charles had developed, and she would not reinforce for the boy that he should expect the world and his family to be cruel and dishonorable at every turn. 

“Alright, Tommy. Peace, then,” Clara offered.

“But—” 

Clara glanced down at her protesting nephew, nodding towards the wrist the boy's father was still holding, Tommy's fingers slipping off Clara's wrist only as she turned to Charles and continued speaking.

“Your dad’s asked us to stop, Charlie boy. He’s got calls to do before he joins us for dinner, eh Tommy?” 

Charles moved around Clara and leaned into Tommy's knee, distracted from his aunt's lesson by the notion of his father joining them for dinner. “Are you joining us, Dad?” 

It seemed fair by Clara’s standards, that her brother should grant them that small concession since he was prematurely stopping their fun, and Tommy stared at his sister for only a short moment before nodding at the boy. “You best go on and let Frances know to set an extra place.” 

Charles sprinted off to find the woman, leaving Clara and Tommy smiling in his wake. 

“Clara, it’d be best for you to—”

“Forget I’ve finally found where you’re ticklish?” she asked, smirking as she stepped back from him. “Of course. Can’t have word getting out Thomas Shelby, OBE is a mere human like the rest of us.”

“I mean it, Clara.” 

Clara rolled her eyes. “I know, Tommy. I’ll keep it to myself.” 

Tommy took a breath, nodding once before he looked back to the papers on his desk. 

“Right, so you’re back to paperwork and calls and frowning, then?” Clara asked.

“If you and my boy are demanding my presence at dinner, then, yes.” 

Clara smiled. She’d leave him to it, and she’d not tell anyone her brother was ticklish, not even Finn as tempting as that was, but she’d not forget. She’d store the information away, kept safe until needed, until Tommy needed a subtle gesture to remind him of what it felt like to be on the receiving end of family not being fair.

-----

Read more Little Lady Blinder stories here.

🏷:

@beautycinders​ @buckybluebarnes (can’t tag) @cecii22me​ @lovemissyhoneybee​ @marquelapage​ @midnight-dreams-23​ @mo-onstarrs​ @ohhersheybars​ @pollyrepents​ @unicorndetective22 (can’t tag)

[hermannsthumb]

Lo and behold, HERMANN is the one with a long list of hunky ex-boyfriends (and it drives Newt a little nuts)

a req sent in by @k-sci-janitor and filled TIMELY ENOUGH on their BIRTHDAYYYYY 🎉🎉🎉🎉 s/out to them for discussing this fic concept w me months ago and also today 👀

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

It’s a relief to find out Hermann is gay. It’s not even because of Newt’s weird, repressed feelings for the guy—though he admits it’s equally a relief to know that he’s not barking up the wrong tree entirely. The thing is that Newt’s really not sure what he would do if Hermann wasn’t. Hermann has the distinct honor (displeasure?) of being Newt’s only friend in the Shatterdome, after all; this means aside from usual friendship duties (sitting with Newt at lunch, listening to him complain about his day, allowing himself to be dragged along to bars and movie theaters when they finally have a second to breathe), he’s also the person Newt goes to with tales of his romantic conquests (not that he has any), requests for dating advice (not that Hermann has any), and reassurances that whoever Newt has his eyes on that week is hot enough for him (could they ever be?). It’s just, like, easier to do that kinda shit with someone who would also be (hypothetically) eyeing up and dating dudes, if Hermann ever managed to take the stick out his ass and relax long enough to do stuff like that.

Hell, Newt would be first in line if he ever did. As it is, he just has to settle on knocking knees with Hermann under the mess tables and—for lack of a better phrase—checking the latest batch of ranger hopefuls out. Newt doesn’t normally go for the tall, built, and athletic type, but Shatterdome transfers are usually the only way he can score a date, because all the seasoned personnel know to avoid the weirdo biologist in the basement by this point. There’s a war on; desperate times call for desperate measures. Newt hopes at least a handful of them are desperate.

“He’s kinda hot, don’t you think?” Newt says under his breath to Hermann. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at one of the new ranger trainees in line for soup behind them. He has dark hair and a nice smile, and—more importantly—Newt’s sure he’s been making eyes at their table for the better part of five minutes. He’s one of the latest batch that has only just arrived two weeks prior, and the smallest batch by far. Not many people are enlisting in the PPDC these days. Bad for the state of the world and Newt’s libido.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

“The guy behind us,” Newt says. “No, don’t be obvious about it—”

But Hermann turns, conspicuously, so (deciding it can’t get any more awkward than it already is) Newt sighs and turns with him. The dark-haired ranger notices: his smile hitches up an extra centimeter, and he winks.

At once Newt feels his ego swell. He winks back. “Still got it, dude,” he crows to Hermann, and is just rising from his chair to swoop into action when he realizes something; the ranger was not making eye contact with Newt. He was—and is—making eye contact with Hermann.

Hermann scoffs. “Oh, please,” he mutters to Newt. “If he thinks that’ll get him invited over again—”

But the ranger is abandoning his spot in line and jogging towards them, smoothing down his hair as he goes. He’s brimming with a palpable mixture of excitement and anxiety. “Hey, Dr. Gottlieb,” he says. “So, uh, last week was pretty fun?” It’s an invitation for approval, one which Hermann ignores in favor of jerking his shoulders noncommittally. The ranger presses on anyway. “It’s cool to see you. Haha. I, uh, just wanted to make sure you have my email, in case you want to get together again.”

“I have it,” Hermann says.

An awkward tension settles between them. Newt clears his throat in hopes of diffusing it, and the ranger’s eyes dart over to him. “I’m Newt,” Newt says. “Hermann and I work together.”

“Cool,” the ranger says. Disinterested. “Anyway, Dr. Gottlieb, I’m free whenever, so?”

“Yes, I’ll certainly email you,” Hermann says. He picks up his dinner roll and begins to spread butter over it, not bothering to look up when he adds “Lovely to see you again.”

The guy nods, and hurries back over to his friends, who begin debating something with him in hushed voices. Twice the group glances back at Hermann. Hermann’s—uh—friend seems to be blushing. Hermann begins to butter the other half of his dinner roll. “What the hell was that about?” Newt says.

Hermann sets down his roll and furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“That,” Newt says. “Who was that guy?”

“Oh,” Hermann says. “Him.” He rolls his eyes, and to Newt’s alarm goes pink in the cheeks. “We had a, ah, a date, I suppose you could call it, last week. He turned out to be a bit rude, actually, not the very, er, courteous sort. Attentive. Or at least not as courteous as I like. You know.”

“I don’t,” Newt says.

“You know,” Hermann repeats, with more force on the know. His pink blush spreads down his neck. “In the—coupling—sense.”

“You hooked up with him?” Newt says, too loud. A few heads swivel in their direction, including Hermann’s quote-unquote date and his friends; Hermann whacks Newt in the shin with his cane, clearly mortified.

“Keep your voice down! I don’t want the whole bloody Shatterdome to know, do I?” Hermann hisses. “Yes, I had sex with him. I do occasionally take time to enjoy myself.”

Newt stares at Hermann in amazement. Hermann hooks up? Hermann hooks up with hunky guys? Hermann hooks up with hunky guys and then ghosts them? “I didn’t know,” Newt says. “That you…did that.” Months and months of talking about his shitty love life to Hermann and Hermann has never once bothered to volunteer information of his own. Newt always just assumed Hermann had put his emotional (and physical) needs on hold for the sake of the war. Apparently not.

“You never asked,” Hermann says. “Is it important?”

Yes, it is. Newt shakes his head. The rest of their dinner is quiet and without any further interruptions. It’s also without their usual bickering, though, which makes it feel oddly lonely, and when Newt gets back to his bunk that night, he can’t help but wonder what else he hasn’t discovered about Hermann yet. Or, really—what about Hermann’s love life he hasn’t discovered yet.

A bouquet of flowers arrives for Hermann at the lab a week later. Newt is the one to take the delivery, Hermann being too absorbed in his calculations and boring graphs, and also because Newt is harboring a secret hope they’re for himself from a secret admirer. No such luck. To Dr. Gottlieb, the heart-shaped label proclaims in pink cursive, and a few sentences of the sappiest attempt at poetry Newt’s ever seen follows. Love, Pedro. Newt smirks through a suffocating wave of jealousy, whether to be the one giving or getting the flowers he’s not sure. “Hey, Hermann,” he calls across the lab. “Your boyfriend getting persistent. Want me to stick these in water for you?”

Hermann grumbles something, then says “Boyfriend?”

“From the mess the other night,” Newt says. “The uncourteous one.” Newt double-checks the note. “Pedro. His heart is yearning for you, Hermann. Listen to this—”

But Hermann scoffs loudly before Newt can even start on the poem. “Don’t be daft,” he says. “That wasn’t Pedro. That was Jason.” He scribbles over something on his chalkboard and starts again on the line below it. “And Pedro is hardly my boyfriend—it was only dinner.”

“Dinner?” Newt squeaks.

“And drinks,” Hermann says.

“You’re seeing another guy?” Newt says.

Hermann finally turns around. “Does it matter if I am?” he says.

“Yes,” Newt says. “No? I don’t know?”

“I’m a grown man, Newton,” Hermann says. “I date. You ought to try it yourself—it does wonders for the nerves.” When Newt is clearly still unsatisfied, Hermann sighs. “I met Pedro on an errand to LOCCENT last month, and I found him charming. You’d recognize him—you actually, er, caught us in a bit of a compromising position the other night. Remember?”

Newt frowns. He hasn’t caught Hermann with anyway in any compromising situations recently—the only thing he can think of that could be considered remotely embarrassing is when he stepped out into the hallway the same time Hermann’s physical therapist did, and they ended up bumping into each other. But that was—oh, God, Newt’s an idiot.  “That was him?” Newt says. He just assumed anyone stopping by Hermann’s room after work hours would be there for physical therapy, okay? And there had been a lot of…noise. Well, he’s not going to think about that now. “But he was so hot! Do you only date, like, hunks or something?”

“Really, Newton,” Hermann says. “You’re making yourself upset over nothing.” The corner of his mouth twitches up. “Though one of my old ex-boyfriends did become an underwear model…”

“Dude,” Newt says, and before he can help himself, blurts out “Shit, maybe I should start going to the gym.”

Hermann gives him a strange, searching look, and Newt immediately clamps his mouth shut in horror. He’s really gotta start working on his brain-to-mouth filter. Or at least work on not sticking his fucking foot in it every five minutes. “As I said,” Hermann says, cryptically, and turns away (apparently satisfied with whatever he saw in Newt), “you’re making yourself upset over nothing. I hardly find the need to limit myself to ‘hunks’.”

“Uh,” Newt says. “Right.”

Whatever that means.

[ichorai]

cellmates ; one ; j.wy

pairing ; jung wooyoung x reader

summary ; stuck in jail after stealing a necklace off the princess, what happens when your new cellmate with an impossible escape plan comes along?

words ; 3.1k

warnings / includes ; medieval au, blood and grime and death and everything in between rip, wooyoung being handsome despite being in a filthy cell djkdfj, wooyoung being a smartass, reader being petrified half the time lol, future suggestive / mature content, cellmates to (future) lovers !!

a/n ; i’ve been meaning to write a medieval au for the longest time bcs im an absolute sucker for them and i finally got around to writing part one !!! pls be patient for part two !! i hope yall enjoy :3 

cellmates masterlist.

The jail cell was cold. You shivered violently, breath misting in front of you as you blew out a tired sigh. They had stripped you of all your clothes except a thin beige tank top (that had actually once been white), and ripped tights. Dried blood matted your hair to your forehead, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at the moment. It was too damn cold.

You found yourself wishing that you hadn’t stolen that necklace off of the innocent little princess. The silver glinting against her pale collarbones were just too enticing, the angry grumble of your stomach far too loud. That much silver would’ve cost a fortune; you wouldn’t have had to worry about food for years. Unfortunately, the guard caught you before you had time to make your escape, by effectively knocking a heavy baton over your head. 

And the result of your desperate endeavor? A small, icy jail cell in the farthest and darkest corner of the dungeons. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen the sun.

A life sentence for attempting to ‘harm’ the princess. Oh please, all you really wanted was to go to bed without your belly twisting painfully in hunger. At least they weren’t barbaric enough to hang you for that.

The thought had tremors running up your spine. Or perhaps it was the cold.

A dim amber light appeared from the corner of your eyes, echoing footsteps gradually getting louder with each thump. Was it dinner time already? You hadn’t even eaten yesterday’s yet.

The same guard you’d seen just about a thousand times by now appeared in front of the frigid metal bars, melting candle in hand. Grizzly beard blanketing his chin and jaw, faint scar mark running over his left cheekbone, and slanted eyes the color of the princess’ silver necklace. A daily reminder of your worst mistake, it would seem. 

He muttered something unintelligible before shoving a tray through the narrow slot, wintry water sloshing about in the small wooden cup with the same chunk of stale bread on the side that always tasted like metal.

How delicious. The cold had numbed you to the point where hunger was the least of your problems. 

You remembered when you had first gotten here, croaking out a wispy ‘thank you’ to the guard whenever he had given you your food, hoping that he’d take sympathy and give you a bit more, or maybe even get you a blanket. You were foolish back then, you thought solemnly, curling up tighter and burying your face in between your knees. 

Perhaps one of the worst things possible about being in jail was that you had absolutely nothing to do. Sometimes you would try to exercise to keep your blood running through your body and make sure your muscles hadn’t frozen over, but exhaustion constantly hung above you like a stormy cloud. More oftenly, you would make up fantastical stories including dragons and elves and faeries. But after hundreds (or maybe it was just around twenty, but who was counting?) of different stories, your creativity would run short and you would find yourself pausing mid-story, trailing off into a disappointing end of ‘and they lived till they died’.

Turns out you weren’t going to be bored alone, at least. 

You had been in a fitful slumber when you heard the footsteps approach. That was strange, usually there’d only be the one guard to deliver your measly dinner.

Curious eyes grew wide when you took sight of two guards holding up an unconscious man, the toes of his worn leather boots dragging against the damp stones of the dungeon ground. 

What you wouldn’t give for a nice pair of leather boots. Your toes twitched in your worn socks at the thought.

They began stripping him of his clothes, much like they had done to you in the beginning, grunts of exertion leaving them in misty huffs. They left shortly after, grumbling about being ‘fuckin’ cold’. As if they had any right to complain.

In the dim light of the candles, you could barely make out what the new prisoner looked like. He was slumped up against one of the icy stone walls, dark hair tied into a short ponytail. A low groan escaped the man, foot twitching as he slowly aroused from unconsciousness. 

“Fuck,” His voice came out hoarse and raspy. He pushed against the floor to prop himself up at a better angle. More curses left his lips in a rapid flurry. You watched in timid fascination as he raised a pale hand to dab against his forehead, hissing when he pulled away with crimson staining his skin.

Looking upwards, he finally caught your curious gaze. 

The two of you stared at one another for a second before he huffed, reaching up to his head once more. This time, his fingers didn’t only pull away with blood, but with a thin hair pin that glinted against the candle’s small flame.

You hadn’t noticed that your mouth was hanging slightly open when he struggled to his feet, limbs shaking with effort and cold.

And he started picking the lock, stopping every minute or so to blow his breath onto his quickly numbing fingers.

After less than ten minutes, the frozen bars swung open with a rusty creak. 

At that point, you yourself had gotten up, eyes widening. You shuffled closer to your own locked bars. It was as if the man had forgotten you were there, flinching when he turned and saw you pressed up against your cell.

“Don’t leave me here,” You whispered, starting to feel the familiar feeling of desperation clawing at your throat.

For a second, he looked conflicted. A hard, determined film passed over his eyes and he tore his gaze away.

“Sorry,” Was all he said. 

And he left, just as quickly as he had come.

Strings of foul curses left his mouth once he was dragged back. And this time, he was far bloodier than before. He barely looked like the same person.

You had to hold in a breath as they threw his limp body back into the cell, one of them spitting at his feet. Grimacing, you looked away and scowled.

Perhaps if he had let you out as well, the both of you would’ve been able to escape.

Ten minutes after the guards had left, the man across from you reached behind his back to pull something out. He didn’t have another hair pin, did he? Would he let you out this time?

Probably not, you thought bitterly.

The object he pulled out was small and round, a shiny red ball that seemed to glisten beneath the candlelight.

It made a resonating thud against the stone of the cell, echoing down the halls. 

And he did it again. And again. And three, four, ten times more.

“Please stop,” You found yourself saying, a headache brewing behind your temple. But your voice was too soft, drowned out by the incessant bouncing of his rubber ball.

Downing what was left in the damp wooden, you mustered the courage to croakily shriek, “Stop! Please, stop!” 

Startled by your sudden noise, he hadn’t been able to catch the ball’s last bounce, and crimson streaked past as it hit the wall behind him, ricocheting past the jail bars and out into the hallway. You watched silently as it rolled away, until it was far out of your sight.

“Bitch,” You heard him mutter under his breath.

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise as you sneered at him, “You’re a fool, you know. Thinking you could escape a place like this.”

“Oh, yeah?” His eyebrows raised while he shuffled closer, pressing his pale face against the cold bars. Now that he was out of the shadows, you managed to get a proper look of his face. He was all bone and skin, dark hair grown a little too long, hazel eyes glinting along with the dim flames. “At least I managed to get out of my cell. That’s probably more than you’ve ever done.”

If he was trying to pick a fight with you, it wouldn’t work.

“What’s the point, anyways? There’s only so much out there for people like us.”

“People like us… ?”

Your eyes darted to him, and you immediately averted your gaze. It’d been a long time since anyone had properly looked at you. Perhaps under all the blood and grime, he’d actually be quite handsome.

“Commoners, peasants. We grow up stupid, work until our fingers bleed, and then die from a disease because we don’t have the money for a healer.”

A low rumble that could pass as a laugh worked its way out of him, “You’re telling me you would rather stay locked up in here than back outside? You don’t want to feel the sun on your face, the taste of sweet fruits, the warmth of another human being?”

“Of course I do,” You retorted. “I’m just saying that it’s pointless.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, “How long have you been here?”

“Too long to keep track.”

At this point, you couldn’t really tell whether it was refreshing to talk to someone after so long, or just plain annoying. He stayed silent for a moment, before speaking up once more. 

“What got you here?”

You huffed. There was no harm in telling him, right?

“I ripped a priceless necklace off of the princess because I was hungry.”

It was as if his volume tripled when he yelped, “You’re Y/N L/N?!”

How he had that much energy after getting beaten up twice, was still a mystery to you.

“The one and only.” You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. It seemed that you were quite famous in the outside world. 

“That’s amazing,” He breathed out, eyes wide as he leaned further into the bars. “My name’s Wooyoung. I’m your new cellmate.”

Your eyes flickered to his once more. If you were going to be stuck here with him, might as well get to know him a little better.

“I’m not your cellmate,” You deadpanned, despite Wooyoung’s disappointed pout. “You’d need to be in the same cell as me to be my cellmate.”

One of his shoulders lifted in a half-shrug.

“So why are you here?” Part of you was afraid of what he was going to say. He didn’t really seem to strike you as someone who’d do anything seriously terrible… right?

“I… I just threw one or two punches at the crown prince, is all. And maybe a kick to the groin. And gave him a couple broken ribs.” He laughed a little at that last part, as if the memory amused him. 

“You what?”

Scoffing, Wooyoung flicked his hair out of his eyes, “I think you heard me perfectly clear, sweetheart.”

A strange feeling blossomed in your stomach. You shuffled a bit closer to your own bars, until the light hit your face. 

“Was it worth it?”

Wooyoung paused at the unexpected question.

“Yeah, I would do it again. A million times over.” It was the first time he looked away, a distant glaze over his eyes. “He was touching a servant girl and she was begging him to stop. But he didn’t. So I intervened.”

A palpable silence laid over the two of you, thick and heavy.

“Good,” Was all you said. “I’m going to sleep.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s morning.”

You ignored him. Time didn’t matter anymore, not to you. Soon enough, he’d stop caring as well.

Hours and days melted into weeks and months, along with the frost on the bars and the icicles hanging off the ceilings.

At least it wasn’t cold anymore. Everything was wet. 

“Okay… would you rather live knowing how you die or live forever?” Wooyoung asked in queer tone, laying down on the ground with his bare back pressed against the damp stone.

You bit into a chunk of stale bread, pausing to chew around the hard crust before swallowing, “No one wants to live forever.”

“Rich people do,” He murmured, flipping over onto his stomach to do some push-ups.

You averted your eyes. He was right; if you were rich, you would’ve probably chosen the latter option too.

“I’ll choose to live forever when I get out of this goddamn cell. But for now, we’re sticking with knowing how I die,” The raven-haired man huffed out through each strenuous push-up. He’s been getting weaker and weaker by the day, living off of nothing but crispy bread and metallic water and the occasional measly slice of dry apple.

“You’re not getting out,” You scoffed. “We’re not getting out. Why do you keep saying that we will?”

Wooyoung falls flat onto his stomach, blowing his hair away from his eyes in frustration, “And why do you keep saying that we won’t? Do you really think we’re going to die here?”

Throwing your hands up into the air, mouth full and bread crumbs rimming your lips, you nodded vehemently, “Yes! Look around us, Wooyoung. How on Earth would you plan on getting out? I’ve been trying for forever before you came around. I’m still here.”

“Yeah, but that was back when I wasn’t here. Now I am.”

“That’s absolutely great, genius. But guess what? We’re still stuck here!”

Wooyoung scowled at your salty remark. He crawled closer to the bars looking down the hallway to make sure no guards were near. 

Glancing back to you, he whisper-yelled, “I have a plan.” 

“That’s a stupid plan,” You sneered, deadpanning.

The man across from you rolled his eyes, “It’s the only one we’ve got.”

“You do know they’ll find out eventually, right? We can’t just go back to our normal lives.”

“Then let’s run away.” His gaze bore into you as you felt yourself flush heavily. “You and me. We can sneak our way onto a fishing boat, sail off to someplace… not here.”

A shiver ran up your arms, gooseflesh prickling your skin, “Stop.” You mumbled. “Don’t get my hopes up.”

Wooyoung grasped the bars tightly, knuckles turning white, “Y/N, listen to me. We can do it. I swear, I’ll get you out of here.”

It was stupid, you knew it was. But you couldn’t help the small spark of hope flare in the middle of your chest, heart pumping just a tad quicker at his words. Hope was an intoxicating drug; you either get sucked into some sort of deluded fantasy, or live without the illusions of false happiness. 

However, The words left you before you even had a chance to hesitate. “You promise?”

“I swear on my next slice of dried apple.” He said, eyes twinkling with excitement behind the shaggy, overgrown hair. 

“Okay.” You breathed out, somewhat satisfied. The dull ache in your spine was ignored as you slumped against the stone wall, closing your eyes and imagining what outside was like. All you could recall about outside was how terrible it was. Of course, not as bad as being in here, but not much to look forward to.

Cracking an eye open, you glanced to Wooyoung, who had curled up into himself in the corner of his cell, slightly obscured by the shadows. 

Life outside seemed better when you imagined yourself with Wooyoung.

“Remember the plan?”

Wooyoung snorted, rolling his eyes, “How many times have you asked me that now?”

You scowled, “Just making sure you won’t mess anything up. Can you really guarantee you’re strong enough to knock him out?” 

Biting down on his lip, he shrugged in a nonchalant manner, “I’ll try my best. And if that’s not enough, well… it was nice meeting you.”

The two of you waited in tense silence for a couple minutes, the expected thudding of boots coming down to give the two of you your meals for the day. The familiar grey eyes of the guard swept over the two of you, bending down your cell first to shove the tray through the narrow slot like he had hundreds of times before. 

Then, he turned to Wooyoung.

“What’s on the menu today, sir?” 

Stormy eyes narrowed, the guard’s nose wrinkled in distaste, “Th’ same shit you eat every day.” His gravelly voice rumbled, clearly not used to prisoners being able to talk, much less form coherent sentences. “It’s what criminals like you deserve.”

A gasp of mock-offense left Wooyoung in the most dramatic manner possible, “Why, if stopping a rapist from raping is worse than being a killer and killing, then I must be the worst criminal alive.”

“You better shut your mouth before I get half the mind to carve your tongue out for you.” The guard spat, nearing closer towards the bars menacingly, one hand on the hilt of his sword. He wasn’t below leaving a prisoner bleeding and tongueless. 

Wooyoung did nothing but raise an eyebrow, “Oh, come now! I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of kills. Especially when you swore an oath to protect a murderous king!”

Your eyes widened slightly; you had no idea he would go as far as to claim treason. 

The guard, however, cackled the ugliest laugh you’d ever heard. “You seem really not to like your tongue, boy. Only, for that comment, they’ll be taking your head along with it.”

It all happened so quickly, you wouldn’t even have the time to scream if you wanted to. 

Just as the guard leaned closer tauntingly, nose almost brushing against the rusty metal bars, Wooyoung grabbed the front of the guard’s steel collar, yanking him forward into the metal columns with all of his might.

A sickening crack echoed across the stone. 

It happened again, and again, and three more times after that. Wooyoung was panting, eyes wild.

“Is he dead?” You craned your neck to try to get a good look, but it was too dark to make out much of anything. 

“No. He’ll wake up with a nasty concussion in a couple hours, give or take.” 

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” You asked, heart pounding far too loudly in your ribcage. The faint sound of jingling almost had you bursting into tears of joy. He had the keys.

A small, non-committal hum emitted from Wooyoung’s cell. “You learn from dreaming about all the different ways you could’ve done that to the crown prince. And thankfully, I got the chance.” Suddenly, Wooyoung appeared in front of your cell, a ring of small keys hanging from his pointer finger, the widest grin spread across his face. “Told you I’d get you out, didn’t I?”

[hungarianbee]

sightless but steady

A/N: I wanted to try my hand on Warritt the All-Seeing for a while now. Writing a blind character who’s not *really* blind is both fun and a challenge. I have a lot of feelings about the Viper witchers, and so I snuck a lot of headcanons (about Ivar, Warritt, Letho, Auckes) into this piece. You can read about them in detail at the end of the fic. TW for: mention of non-descriptive torture

It is a relatively quiet night at the Blood Gate Keep. The young adepts went to sleep hours ago, safely tucked away in their quarters. To the average witcher, Gorthur Gvaed lays dormant, echoing the silence of its occupants.

But not to Warritt. In his room, the Viper bundles himself in furs, sitting in front of the lit hearth with his back to it. The fire’s heat seeps into his bones, touching his exposed neck, and he tilts his head back into the sensation. To him, the keep always feels just a tad cold. It’s nothing, compared to the Bear’s Haern Caduch or the Wolves’ Kaer Morhen in winter, but the Vipers’  mutations keep their temperatures lower than the other school’s.

As he flicks his fingers, his magic activates the Supirre Sign again, keeping it steady with years of practice. Just like that, the night comes alive around him.

Beneath the sound of the firewood cracking, he notices that there are rats in the walls again, scratching at the stones with their tiny claws. He makes a mental note to alert Evil-Eye to their presence later, then moves on. A floor beneath him, Gerring of Kharkiv is playing with his knives, just as usual. The fast tack-tack-tack reverberates in Warritt’s ears as the knives embed themselves in the wooden surface of the upturned table. A mouser’s yowls break it up, and he pushes the Sign further, taking note of the steady heartbeats of the snakelets. As he concentrates, he feels several that are too fast to be asleep. Auckes, he thinks. And Letho.

Warritt shucks his furs, taking one with him and folding the rest on his unused bed. With a reverse Igni, lowers the temperature of the hearth, leaving the wood smoldering. The smoke of it settles in his barely open mouth, sticking to his palate. Throwing the fur over his shoulder, he opens his door, just as Ivar Evil-Eye takes a corner in his direction, the scent of blood and iron trailing after him like an avenging wraith.

Up until this point, the Viper Grandmaster was pacing his office, as was his bad habit, then changed course, and took a detour around the Keep to the snakelets’ sleeping quarters. To air his head, most likely, and to make sure that everyone was safe. That Letho was safe. There is a lot of weight on the witcher’s shoulders that he refuses to share with them, he knows. Some days, when the pacing gets agitated and Warritt can hear his rapid breathing when he talks his way over an issue, he thinks that this will be Evil-Eye’s end. A fire can only burn bright for so long without kindling.

“Master Evil-Eye,” he greets quietly.

The thumping of Gerring’s weapons stop. A shift of skin on fabric as the man looks up, breathing carefully steadied. He’s listening. Warritt minimizes his Sign to the palm of his hand. He’s been told the yellow glow is quite noticeable. “Anything I can help you with?”

Evil-Eye shakes his head to himself, but breaks the motion midway. A heavy sigh. “I can’t deal with the brats tonight,” he admits. His tone is weary. Warritt tries to imagine what his expression must look like, but it’s been too long and the visuals appear murky in his mind. Something that might match the scents of frustration and fatigue. After all, Evil-Eye doesn’t have to hide from him; he can’t see. Then, the taste of ash ignites, becomes spicy with rekindled rage. “Did you know about Letho of Gulet?”

He can’t even finish the sentence as Warritt flashes his fangs at the leader. The hiss that leaves between his teeth rattles in his throat. “No! I would have stopped Daibesyck. Any of us would have. And you know that.”

In his rise of emotion, his Supirre sputters out. He casts it again with one hand, the other going up to rake through his curls.

Evil-Eye stands still, like a statue. Then a new tension enters his shoulders, and he turns away. “I’ve dealt with Daibesyck,” he states. Disdain colours his voice. “The worm wanted me to thank him. To acknowledge what a marvelous achievement he did, finding the perfect subject for his little successful experiment.” He breathes through his venom. “I paid him in kind. He stopped screaming a few hours ago.”

Warritt’s face tightens, even as dark satisfaction courses through him. He knows. He heard. But it wasn’t aimed at him; it’s a confirmation for their little eavesdropper. This time tomorrow everyone will know that they are one mage down.

“How’s he?”

Evil-Eye cracks his neck to the side. “He’s feverish, still. He asked for you.”

“Then I will be there.” And that’s that. Warritt lengthens his steps, taking the fur beneath one arm, the other still pulsing with Supirre. The Grandmaster matches him until they reach Letho’s quarters, where he lags behind, stopping just by the door.

The blind witcher makes his way to the bed. The scent of sickness leaves a sour note on his tongue, but that’s not his main concern. Because in this close proximity, he’s sure of it - Letho’s usual outline changed.

As he climbs into the bed he bundles the furs under Letho’s bald head, hoping that his own scent will ease the young witcher. A stone sits in Warritt’s stomach; last time he’s been in his presence, the kid had a crown of soft curls. His calloused hands slide on broad, impossibly muscled shoulders that emanate a heat that is uncharacteristic to witchers, then cup the back of Letho’s neck gently.

“Letho,” he calls, and the snakelet twitches under him, turning towards his chest. He can barely fit. A soft sound escapes him, almost a sob, and his hands come up to shield his still sensitive eyes. Warritt immediately releases his Sign to plunge the room in darkness, shushing him. “It’s Warritt, bud. I am here, just as you asked.”

“Warritt,” Letho parrots back, slurring. Without the Sign, Warritt is not prepared for the fingers prodding at the heavy scarring by his eyes, but he lets it happen anyway.

With impossible strength, Letho pulls Warritt down and curls his arms around him in a constricting hug. Warritt stifles his wheeze, breathing through it, and he presses closer still, wrapping himself around the kid as much as he can, tucking him under his chin and tangling their legs. One of his hands comes up to squeeze Letho’s nape. The pressure seems to calm the young witcher, and he mindlessly bites down on Warritt’s leathers on his shoulder, just to hold him still. Warritt notes absentmindedly that Evil-Eye slipped away when he wasn’t paying attention.

They stay like that for a long time. Eventually, Letho’s breathing evens out, slipping into an uneasy sleep. His muscles twitch and release, and Warritt rearranges them so he’s plastered to the snakelet’s back, hugging him tightly, not minding the cold sweat.

“Auckes,” he calls softly. He hears the creak of soft leathers in the rafters as the boy shifts warily. He drops down, landing without difficulty.

“Bloede,” the little snakelet curses in Elder, silently but with feeling. “How did you know I was here? You didn’t even use your Sign.”

“Language,” Warritt chides. “You were so loud I could hear you from a tower away. You were lucky Master Evil-Eye was in a cordial mood, he would have had you for breakfast.”

“Not true,” Auckes sulks.

The boy’s radiating disbelief warms him. He gestures with one hand, beckoning, and Auckes slips onto the bed, curling over Letho. The boy shakes a little and Warritt scents the residue of distress on him, so he presses a warm hand between his shoulder blades, drawing slow circles.

Auckes presses into his touch, then blurts out. “If I asked you, would you shave my head?”

Warritt doesn’t stop his motions, despite his surprise. “Why would you ask that?”

For a long moment, Auckes doesn’t say anything, just clenches his fist in Letho’s sleeping shirt. He smooths the soft material between his fingers anxiously. “Letho cried ,” he whispers it like a secret, and his tone belies his astonishment. Letho never cries. “He saw his reflection, you know.”

“I don’t know, Auckes,” prompts Warritt gently, lying through his teeth. “Why would he be upset because of that?”

“He’s big. And bald. He tried to hug Serrit and hurt him. Twas an axi-” he trips on the word in his haste, then tries again, slowly. “Ac-ci-dent. He didn’t mean it, I know. It scared him. And Serrit said that he wasn’t mad, so it’s okay.”

Warritt hides his sad smile, endeared by Auckes’ sharp perception and big heart. “Aye,” he breathes.

Another beat passes between them.

“I want you to cut my hair, so Letho knows it’s okay, too. That he’s not alone.” Auckes’ voice is so very small, like the breeze in Tir Tochair’s sheltered meadows.

Warritt’s throat constricts. His fingers follow the thin braid that hangs on each side of  Auckes’ face, then cards into his soft ponytail.

“Alright,” he rasps. “Alright.”

--------- * ---------

Note: Auckes canonically can speak really good Elder. The little curse word “Bloede” can be translated to “bloody hell”.

Headcanons:

Warritt is the big-brother of the keep - he’s both a blind badass and the resident kidwrangler (and everyone clearly knows it)

Warritt is a genius - this is kiiind of canon, but regardless: he has an unorthodox thought process; he likes thinking outside of the box, and that’s how he isn’t bothered by his blindness and modified an already existing Sign (Supirre in canon; and also Igni in this fic)

Vipers are not shy of physical touch, on the contrary! - a little bit of cutagen here; Vipers like to coil up together in almost constricting hugs. Even those who haven’t gone through the Trials adopt this habit; the physical touch (hugs) is something they can claim as their own good thing

Letho went through the Grasses twice, like Geralt (aka twicegrassed) - compared to the rest of the School, Letho is an outlier. I explained his proportions with him surviving the Trials twice

Ivar was unaware of the further experimentations, and he flipped - a hc i adopted from @lookoutrogue. Ivar himself went through multiple Trials, that’s how he ended up with his mutated eye. My throwaway mage OC, Daibesyck was tortured to death because he went over the invisible line Ivar carved, hurting one of his own and disrespecting his authority

Auckes shaved his head in solidarity for Letho - originally i thought he would have done it when he was older, but tiny Auckes said no, i wanna do it now

Gerring of Kharkiv wasn’t supposed to appear, but he didn’t budge. So I guess now he’s an insomniac old witcher who likes to waste time and furniture with knife-throwing *shrug*

[schoenheitslut]

BABYSITTER

note/s :: literally just porn without plot. I vastly underestimated how long this would be. It’s completely self indulgent and based on the babysitter au idea I had earlier. This is probably shit but honestly it was so fun to write now that I don’t feel embarrassed while writing smut.

desc :: mari is a babysitter for epel. after tucking epel in, she finds rook in the kitchen and offers to cook dinner for him. she realizes that her two attractive bosses feel the same way about her.

word count :: 2263

pairing :: beautywings | rookvil x mari

Mari stretched her arms as she exited Epel’s room. It took a bit of time in order to get the rowdy child to bed but she managed to tire him out enough. It was kind of a shame that she didn’t get to tell him a bedtime story like usual but Vil is very strict about the exact time he needs to be asleep. Sometimes it was a little tiring to meet his standards but it was all worth it in the end. The family paid well and Epel was a sweet child.

Her eyes landed on the man sitting in the living room. A small smile graced her lips. “Ah, I see you’re back from work, Mr. Hunt. Have you eaten dinner?” She asked him.

He shook his head, mirroring her smile. He tipped his hat to her in greeting, gazing at her like he usually did. It looked as though he was a predator stalking his prey. But as a hunter, it was just his thing, she reasoned with herself internally. He’s never done anything to harm her. In fact, he was always so charming and sweet. Mr. Schoenheit was a lucky man to have him as a husband.

“Then let me make something for you.”

Mari made her way to the kitchen in order to cook something up for the two of them, as well as Mr. Schoenheit. Hopefully she can perfect her skill in making meals the way her two employers like it, knowing how high the actor’s standards were for everything. As she placed the ingredients onto the counter, she felt a warm breath on her neck, causing her to jolt and drop the ingredients on it. His arms wrapped around her.

“M-Mr. Hunt, what are you doing—”

She was interrupted by him. “Fufu, I’ve always dreamed of getting to know you carnally on this counter. The thought of having you for dinner tonight makes me feel so excited.” He couldn’t mask the giddiness in his voice. His hands roamed her body, groping at every curve.

“Mr. Hunt, you’re married— Ah!” She moaned at him slipping his fingers through her skirt and panties and inside her warmth, massaging her insides. She felt his tongue drag across her neck and collarbone. A heat spread throughout her body from her abdomen.

“Mm, yes. You’re so wet, mon petit lapin,” he cooed as he grinded his hips against hers, pressing his hardness to her ass.

She bit her lip, trying not to be too loud. But accidentally let another moan out when he inserted another finger into her depths. A knot formed in her loins, squeezing tightly and aching for release.

“Let me hear all your beautiful noises, mon chéri. Show me how much of a whore you are,” he whispered into her ear, tickling it lightly. It caused her to gasp. For some reason, she felt her pussy twitch at his words.

But then came the sound of heels clacking against the marble floor. Her heart stopped, recognising the sound and her head whipped up to see the glacial gaze of Mr. Schoenheit piercing through her soul.

She was so fucked.

“Mr. Schoenheit, I’m so sorry—”

Vil glared at his husband. “How dare you start without me, Rook? I should punish you for your impatience.” He walked over and pushed him off of the girl.

“Wha—”

She couldn’t even get a full word in before he pulled her towards him and picked her up, carrying her bridal style to their shared room. “Don’t be so surprised, darling. I hope you really didn’t think we didn’t notice how you look at the two of us with such longing eyes.”

Her cheeks heated up, unsure how to respond to all this but she couldn’t bring herself to protest. He was right. But god, it felt embarrassing to know that they were aware of how she saw them this whole time.

The model laid her on the bed, the silk sheets were more inviting and twice as sensual on her skin. A click sounded from behind them, indicating that the door had been locked.

“Sit down.” His voice was commanding, so much so that his husband immediately sat down on the chair. He pulled his drawer and took out some brilliant red rope before expertly tying his husband in a manner that reminded the girl of shibari, such intricate and detailed patterns were so elegant that she felt unworthy of seeing Rook in such an erotic state. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to calm the rising heat between them.

He tied a blindfold over his eyes, concealing them. Then, Vil turned to her, causing her to tense up. Her breath hitched. “Strip for me. Slowly.”

Mari gulped and nodded, unbuttoning her cardigan one at a time. She took it off, revealing her bare shoulders and started to strip off her dress which left her in her underwear.

He tutted. “They’re decent, but you could do better, my dear.” He eyed her underwear, judging the way the fabric hugged her body, how the color looked against her skin tone, and other things.

“I didn’t exactly expect this to happen, sir,” she spoke, finally able to actually get a whole sentence out.

A frown pulled at his lips. His expression was one of exasperation. “We were meant to wait until I deemed you ready but Rook had gotten too excited, so now I have to punish him for that.”

Vil crossed his arms. “But before we proceed any further, I must ask if you are truly alright with this. You’re allowed to say no if you do not feel comfortable with this. Do not feel pressured by our status as your employers.” He seemed so genuine with his words, like he truly cared about how she felt. “You may go home and forget this ever happened and I can assure you that it won’t affect your job.”

She bit her lip, nodding meekly. “Yeah, I was just shocked that you guys would actually… want this. I’m still having trouble believing this is actually happening.” This felt too good to be true. The two men that she pined for had just suddenly shown that they were interested in her. She wondered if this was just a really spicy dream she was having after being sexually repressed for years. But it was really nice that Vil cared enough for her consent first.

He smirked, leaning closer. His finger hooked underher chin to make her look directly at his lilac eyes that held such lust for her.

“Then we’ll have the whole night to convince you that this is very real.”

His other hand went behind her and unhooked her bra with ease. It fell to the ground with a near silent thud. She shivered, feeling a cool breeze nip at her flesh. He took off her panties as well, dropping them so that she was completely naked.

Vil led her to where Rook was and instructed her to get on her knees in front of him. The girl unzipped his pants and was startled by his thick length springing up, leaking precum. “Place it in between your breasts,” the taller male ordered her. She obliged, leaning closer to get him between her soft mounds. Rook shivered at the contact, his cock twitched lightly.

“Now, lick the tip.”

Mari opened her mouth and circled her tongue over the head, causing the hunter to moan lightly. She then felt a pair of hands snaking down to her nether regions, rubbing circles on her clit. This caused her breath to hitch.

“Take it in your mouth and massage him,” Vil commanded her as he moved closer to her, their bodies had gotten so close that she felt his hardness against her.

She followed his orders. Rook groaned at her actions, wishing that he could see her but the blindfold prevented him from doing that. “Mon ange, please—”

The actor noticed and a mirthful smirk pulled at his glossy lips, enhancing his gorgeous features. “Begging already, are we?” He asked. “How pitiful. Usually you can last hours before you’re even pleading for release.”

“But I suppose it can’t be helped,” he continued on, “You couldn’t even wait until she was ready, and now I have to punish your impatience.”

“You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, got it?” His voice was commanding, so much so that Rook had nodded immediately.

“Keep going,” Vil whispered into the girl’s ear before he looked down at her sopping wet cunt. His fingers entered her, making her gasp around his husband’s cock. “Hm, I see Rook did one thing right. You should be wet enough.”

His hard length pressed against her ass when she continued to tease Rook, who was doing well when it came to holding back. She swirled her tongue around his tip. Looking up at him like this was a glorious sight to behold. His skin shone with sweat and his body was completely ripped. His chest heaved as he breathed. A nice red blush dusted his pale cheeks.

Mari cried out when she felt Vil’s cock enter her. The more intense vibrations around his manhood caused Rook to jolt in pain and pleasure.

Vil waited for her to adjust for a moment before moving his hips to grind against hers. The heat between her legs intensified, raging like a fire. She moaned at the sensation, feeling him hit all the right places.

The hunter wished for nothing more than to be able to see during that moment. It must’ve been quite a sight to see his cock between her soft tits while she sucked the tip as Vil pounded into her from behind. He groaned. “Roi du Poison, please… forgive me.”

Vil hummed before looking down at Mari. “What do you think, dear? Should I?” He asked her before angling his hips upward to hit her g spot.

“I think he learned his les-SON!” Mari felt herself go cross-eyed when he hit that spot within her. The knot tightening in her loins.

“Hmph, you’re certainly forgiving. But fine. As it is your first night with us, you’ll have your way,” he said. He turned to his husband. “You have our permission.”

Upon hearing those words, Rook immediately spilled his seed into her mouth, filling it with his creamy essence.

“Don’t swallow just yet. Take off his blind fold.”

Mari pulled away, tasting the thick saltiness of his cum. She leaned up to remove the blindfold from his eyes. Hunter green irises locked with milk chocolate-hued ones.

“Make him taste himself,” Vil commanded as he leaned down on her shoulder to leave a trail of kisses.

Rook’s eyes darkened with lust and hunger when she closed in on his lips. It was obvious just how eager he was when his tongue entered her wet cavern. He moaned, finding bliss in such an intimate act shared between him and the girl.

“Mon ange, my cum tastes divine on you.”

As they did this, Vil quickened his thrusts, hitting every sweet spot in the process and making her cry out. Her body felt as though it was on fire with every thrust. Her walls hugged his thick cock, tightening around it.

“Mr. Schoenheit… Mr. Hunt…” Mari gasped, breathing heavily as she pulled away from the hunter, his seed dripped onto her breasts. “It feels so good…”

Rook leaned down to lick her bud, nibbling on it lightly. “Oh, my dear slut, you’re doing so well. But please, call us by our first names.” he praised her. She bit her lip.

“Ara? You’ve tightened around me when you were called a slut.” Vil smirked. “Does that mean you want to be treated like one?”

Mari couldn’t answer as the knot tightened more and more, needing release soon.

Smack!

“Ah!”

He gave her an icy glare, slowing his thrusts to a torturous pace. “I asked you a question, whore. I expect you to answer.”

She nodded frantically, desperate for relief. “Yes! Please treat me like your cumslut. I am nothing more than a toy for your pleasure.”

He hummed, smirking. “That wasn’t so hard now, wasn’t it? And for that, you’re allowed to cum now. Remember to thank me for filling you with my seed.”

Vil started going at a brutal pace. Fast squelching noises could be heard. The room was permeated with the scent of sex.

“Ah! Yes, thank you, Vil! Thank you!” Mari cried out repeatedly as she started going cross-eyed with pleasure.

And with one final thrust to her g spot, she squealed. She saw stars in her vision as euphoric bliss engulfed her senses. The knot in her loins snapped. She felt his seed flood her cunt before he slowly pulled out, some cum dripped onto the floor.

Mari panted heavily before collapsing, then was caught by Vil. He brought her over to the bed, laying her on it. Then, he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

“You did well, my dear,” he praised her.

He turned around and started untying his husband’s constraints. The rope dropped to the floor.

Rook got up from the chair and approached her with a smirk. She looked up, a bit confused.

Vil turned to her. “I did say that we had the whole night to convince you after all. Don’t be so surprised.” He sat down, observing them with his lilac eyes.

“Ah, mon petit lapin, how I’ve waited to ravish you for so long.” Rook licked his lips as he neared her. “Now I can do it all night long.”

[hairycooterlips69]

Service with a Smile

Howdy y’all, I had a wild hair up my ass to write a fanfic. It’s my first one, be gentle 😅 I’m obsessed with Hawks so I hope I do him proud. Also I was gonna name it Kentucky Fried Fuckin but i don’t wanna be ganked by the Colonel so... Takami Keigo x Fem!Reader

word count : 4k

[ (nsfw 18+) ]  

Warnings: edging, fingering, soft dom/sub, oral sex, nipple play, anal play, choking, unprotected sex

yuhh, get into it~

_______________________________________________

Tonight’s shift couldn’t get any worse.

As you glance at your watch, you internally groan after realizing that you had been on your feet for the last 8 hours stuck behind a cash register. Between some brat spilling juice not once, but twice, on the floor you mopped, a woman berating you for not having any more barbeque sauce, and your closing partner quitting the night before, you were at your wit’s end. Working at a fried chicken shop wasn’t the most glamourous place of employment, but it paid the bills and your quirk did come in handy. Your empathic quirk allowed you to ease the negative emotions of others with the cost of others’ emotions somewhat rubbing off on you. While customers left satisfied and in good spirits, most nights you were left feeling exhausted and impatient. Well at least there’s only 5 minutes until close, you contemplate, mentally preparing yourself to clean and lock up the store.

Lost in thoughts, you hear a soft jingling and the thudding of boots against the tiled floor. “Heyo~, are you guys still open?” The first thing you notice about this customer is his ruby-red wings. Upon further inspection, you see that he is wearing a black body suit, beige pants, and a fur-trimmed coat accessorized with protective glasses and headgear, along with some pompous, feathery hairstyle. You felt as if this person was familiar. I mean, how could you not recognize a guy with massive birdlike appendages? You must have seen him somewhere, maybe around the city or at a bar. Or maybe you’ve seen him at the park, or maybe at the –

“Uh, hello. Earth to Y/N. Sorry for coming in so late, but I’ve been patrolling the area tonight and it seemed like this place was still open. I get pretty hungry around this time. Will you be able to serve me?” You snap back to reality, your cheeks tinged in embarrassment. “How do you know my name? D-do I know you?” you stammer. “Well, I read your nametag. But if you want to get to know me, you most certainly can, kid.” he quipped cheekily. What an ass. Your embarrassment quickly turned into annoyance, but you swallowed your pride and politely responded “yes sir, we are still open. How can I help you?” “Sir? I like that. Well, you can start me off with a four-piece meal and a soda, and after I’m done eating you can help me by giving me your number.” You audibly gasp, astounded at the audacity of this honey-haired jerk. Without a word, you quickly turned on your heels to put together the combo and get away from this man.

He must have noticed how upset you were as you placed his food on the counter rather abruptly. His expression softened from a cocky grin to a repentant half-smile. “I apologize if I’ve offended you. It’s just that I get pretty bored protecting the city and lurking on top of buildings. It’s nice to have some human contact, even if it’s teasing the cutie working at a fried chicken shop.” If you weren’t already flustered before, your face blushed crimson red yet again. Without the arrogance, you notice that this stranger was cherubically handsome, donning bushy blonde eyebrows, golden, catlike eyes, and the beginnings of scruffy facial hair. He must have been around your age or maybe a couple years older. You could tell that he was in almost, if not completely, perfect physical shape by the way his body suit hugged his chest. You hated to admit it, but his flirting was actually coaxing you out of your previously terrible mood. You manually willed yourself to reply, retorting “yeah, well don’t vigilantes like you have anything better to do than harassing a stranger while at work?” “Ouch, kid. A vigilante? Try number-two Pro Hero. I guess that’s what I get for coming in so late and giving you a tough time. I go by Hawks, but the name is Takami Keigo. But, I prefer if you call me yours for the evening.” At this point you couldn’t help but laugh at his boldness. After catching your breath, you responded “Alright Big Bird, enjoy your meal. Just please don’t leave too much of a mess, I already have to wait for you to finish so I can clean up and get the hell out of here.” For a split second, you saw his face twitch in an unreadable manner before his switching back to seasoned professionality. “Ah, of course. I won’t be too long. Thank you again y/n for the food. I’m sure it will be delicious.”

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the table and sat down, wings folding flat to his back as he prepared to dig in. You watched him as he removed his gloves, finger by finger. You couldn’t help but notice how long and graceful they were. Carefully, he teared apart slivers of each piece of chicken before bringing the greasy bits to his mouth. As he prepared his food, he would often glance up at you only to avoid your eyes and look back down at his food. What was with those looks he keeps giving me? It was almost like I angered him, or got offended by what I said, you mused to yourself. I’ll just activate my quirk. That way if he’s pissed, I can smooth things over. I don’t need to be bitched at by the manager again. With slight concentration, you activated your quirk. Suddenly you could feel what he felt – hunger. Besides this, there was another feeling. Similar to hunger, combined with a dull, growing ache. It almost felt like – yearning? Or something more? Once realizing the feeling, you quickly ducked your head. This bastard was aroused! You felt conflicted. He must be feeling confused by what I said to him, but also… I think he enjoyed it? You begin to feel a warming sensation in your midsection. Damnit, I think he is aroused. I’m starting to feel it too. Why would a Pro Hero be interested in someone who’s been covered in grease and sweat all day? You start to feel a little self-conscious at this point. There was no way that he couldn’t smell all the herbs and spices permeating off your overworked body. I smell like the deep fryer and I’m starting to thirst over some big-shot hero. I need to distract myself. “Hey, Hawks? If it’s alright with you, I’m gonna start cleaning up a bit.”

Hawks barely glanced at you as he responded “sure kid, do what you need to do. Don’t stop on my account.” You grabbed a rag and started to wipe down the tables with practiced ease. You closed on most nights and were able to get the store tidied up within 30 minutes or so. This night was different though, and you were somewhat nervous doing your nightly tasks as Hawks observed your work. When your back was turned, you could still sense eyes on you along with the steadily growing ache emitting from the Pro Hero and your own growing desire welling from within your body. Shit, the fact that he’s turned on right now is insane. I guess it is a compliment, he’s hot as hell. I actually kind of like it, you admitted to yourself. This realization combined with your quirk stirred up your own desire of being touched, and the growing warmth of arousal spread through your body like a slow burn. The more you attempted to distract yourself by sweeping the floor and wiping down tables, the deeper this yearning grew. Your watch indicated that it was definitely past the time you normally locked up and left. Fuck, I’m super turned on. What’s with him? And what’s up with me? You decide that you would quash this feeling right then and there. “Hey Hawks, are you okay? Cuz it’s getting late and I-“

As you turned around, you saw the Pro Hero had been standing a few feet behind you, wings fluttering rhythmically to the beat of his pulse. “You know, no one’s ever insulted me like that before and yeah, kid, it was cute, but it was also incredibly rude.” Before you could react, Hawks reached up and grazed the left side of your face with his right hand. “Now, how are you going to make it up to me?”

“I, uh- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just-“

“Just what?”

“I can feel you. I mean, I can feel what you feel, that’s my quirk and obviously you didn’t know that but I’m sensing that you’re-“

“You can sense how I feel, at this moment? Tell me, kid. Let’s see how accurate that quirk of yours is.”

“Well, um… earlier after I called you Big Bird and I got a vibe that you were annoyed but also intrigued? Also, uh – when you were eating and I was cleaning up, I kind of got the feeling that you were interested… in that way.”

“’That way?’ And what way would that be?”

You could tell that Hawks took pleasure in watching you squirm and shade brighter than his pinions. “That way. You know, an… intimate sort of feeling.”

You flinched, expecting Hawks to jerk his hand away from you and walk off in disgust. Instead, a sly, borderline wicked grin began to spread across his face. “Now that’s an impressive quirk. What if I told you that you were correct in that I am turned on by you? In fact, the more I watch you, the more I want to touch every single part of your body and own that delicious ass of yours.” He stepped closer, inches away from you, and began to trail his hand from your cheek down to the nape of your neck. You barely registered Hawks’ wings spreading out and almost immersing the two of you. “You can feel what I feel, right? So that can only mean that you want me almost as badly as I want you. If you let me, I’ll be more than happy to satisfy us both.” Hawks must have misread the look of disbelief slapped across your face. He backtracked, “Was that too far, kid?”

“N-no. Keep going. I want this.”

You had barely finished your sentence when the pro hero lunged forward, pushing his lips against your own with the urgency of a rabid animal. You quickly returned his kiss with equal hunger, pressing back against the soft, inviting landscape of his mouth. Lip-locked and frenzied, you felt him slowly run his hands down the side of your body and onto your hips, grasping them so intensely you felt his nails dig into your skin sending small shocks of pleasure directly to your core. You unconsciously leaned your hips toward, your body responding to the sensation building within your intimacy. You felt the pressure of Hawks’ reciprocating excitement against your leg as he moaned at the growing constraint between his manhood and his uniform.

“Y/n, are you sure you’re up for this? Because I can’t hold back much longer. I would cut my wings off just to flip you onto that counter and ram the shit out of you until you beg me to stop making you cum.”

“Hawks-“

“Call me Keigo, fuck. Call me Keigo, I want to hear you scream my name at the top of your lungs.”

“Keigo, shut the hell up and do what you said. Please just fuck me already.”

He practically flung you across the store, wrapping you up in a tight, muscular embrace with his vibrant, elongated wings beating erratically. Hawks placed you on the counter rather gently, attaching himself to your mouth again. You could feel his tongue softly graze your bottom lip in an attempt to explore you. Ever so slightly, your lips parted to meet his tongue in a battle for dominance. Hawks eventually overpowered you, and you could slightly taste the remnants of his meal as he ran his tongue vertically against the sinew of your cheeks. While Hawks commanded your mouth, you used your knee to tease and stimulate his aching member, pre-cum threatening to bleed through his pants. “Hrrnh, y/n. My cock is practically begging for you,” he groaned. You responded, “for someone who wants to fuck me senseless, you sure are taking your sweet ass time.”

Charged by your smart remark, he pulled away from your lips to focus on his next mission: undressing you before you could even open your mouth to land some other sarcastic comment. With surprising dexterity, he peeled off your shirt and pants while you worked on unclasping your bra. Keigo paused to admire your bare chest. “God y/n, as if you weren’t already looking like a five-course meal. I just might have to devour you until there’s nothing left.” Before you could come up with another response, Hawks enveloped his eager mouth to your right nipple while reaching to attend to your left bud. He began to suck rhythmically as if attuned to your wildly beating heart, lazily switching from massaging your left nipple between his graceful fingers to rubbing it in a clockwise fashion. You groaned animalistically into his ear, clenching your vaginal muscles and grinding your heat against the corner of the counter in desperation.

“Keigo, stop fucking teasing me. Please do something, you’re driving me crazy.”

Obliging, Hawks abandoned your left nipple to pull your drenched panties to one side of your private area. “Jeez, kid, you’re practically drooling down there. I wonder how wet for me you’ll get once I stick my fingers inside that pretty pussy.” Something about the snarky comment sent you over the edge. It was as if something inside your brain snapped, and the need to control this bird-brained asshole overtook you. Oh, I’m gonna give this fucker a show, you mused. You grabbed Keigo’s wrist and shoved it directly inside your clenched hole, violently abusing his fingers akin to a human dildo to escalate your pleasure. Hawks’ mouth practically dropped to the floor, his gaze shifting frantically from you using him as your fuck toy to the canvas of your naked body.

“Holy fuck, kid. That’s so goddamn hot. You really are such a slut, fucking yourself with my own hand. God, y/n. I want to be inside you so fucking bad.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” you huffed. “Now take off your clothes while you watch me play with myself.”

You grabbed his wrist again to remove his fingers, replacing them with your own to appease the gnawing desire. “Don’t look away from me, Keigo. Make direct eye contact, or I’ll kick your ass out of here with nothing but a pulsating cock and a hope for a wet dream about me.” Hawks quickly stripped down to his boxers, awaiting eagerly for your next demand. You could see the evident staining where the fabric was constricting his shaft. “Such an obedient pigeon,” you purred. “Now stroke your cock slowly like the good little bird boy you are.” His right hand began to slip down the band of his tightening boxers. “Ah-ah-ah, I said to take off your clothes. I didn’t say you could take it out and touch it. Now I’ll allow you to jerk it outside of your boxers.”

“Fuck, kid. Who the hell are you talking to like that? I don’t like that bratty ass attitude you have. I may just have to sh-”

You interrupted his monologue to jump off the counter and engulf his clothed manhood as deeply as your throat would allow. Even as it threatened to touch the back of your esophagus, you could see that you weren’t able to completely fill it with your mouth. You worked quickly to moisten his stiff cock. He moaned and grabbed the base of your head as you proceeded to bob back and forth, driving him insane by your refusal to let him be in charge.

“You filthy whore. If you’re gonna suck me off at least do it properly.” Hawks was growing feral with desire to feel your slobbery mouth on the skin of his member. “I guess you have been a good birdie. Here, I’ll make this easier for you.” You removed him from your mouth long enough to yank down his underwear and return to his massive source of heat. You grabbed Keigo’s cockhead and placed it strategically between your lips, outlining the contours of your mouth and using his wetness as a lipliner. “Fuuuck, you are so good, so good to me baby bird,” he whimpered pathetically before taking him inside your mouth once again. You continued to pleasure him with an absurd amount of oral pressure and saliva which began to leak out the corners of your lips. After a couple minutes of sucking him off, you felt him start to quiver. “Ungh, y/n. I’m about to cum.”

You immediately pulled away. There was no way in hell Hawks was going to come in the store and take up your time without getting you off. “It’s my turn now Keigo. You talked all that shit and now I want to see what you can do. I doubt you’ll be able to get me to cum.” As you planned, this lit a fire under Takami’s ass to drill you harder than an army sergeant. Without a word, Hawks yanked you up from the roots of your hair, shredded off your panties, and proceeded to flip you on top of the counter with your dripping cunt exposed in the air.

“You’ll regret you said that. You’re about to sing my name until your pussy screams and it’ll be music to my ears. I’m gonna make you my dirty little songbird bitch.”

Your heart was racing as you were sprawled out on the counter, your most intimate parts displayed for Hawks’ viewing. You began to turn your head to face him when you felt a strong grip on the base of your scalp again. “I didn’t say you could look at me. Now turn back around or I’ll leave you with a sopping cunt and a hope for a wet dream,” Hawks mimicked. You regretted being so saucy with him before; he now had the upper hand but at the same time, you felt a wicked delight at what was in store. You could feel him tracing the outer folds of your womanhood meticulously and painfully slow before sliding upwards to reach the sensitive skin on your asshole. You involuntarily twitched as he touched this spot, not used to this area being so vulnerable. “It looks like I found your weak spot, baby bird. I think it’s time to show you what happens to bratty bitches who talk so impolitely to me.” You heard a soft whoosh from behind you, similar to a sailing dart. You gasped in shock as you felt the tip of a feather tickling your rim as two fingers began to penetrate the saturation built up in your twinging cunt. Hawks continued this assault as he began to fist his own member using the slick he swiped from your saturated hole, picking up speed to pump synchronously with his digits. “Shit, y/n. I can’t hold out much longer, your slutty pussy is soaking my hand. I want to feel how wet you are. Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fill you with my cum?”

“Keigo, PLEASE! Please fuck me, I can’t take this anymore, ahh-. I’m begging you, I want you to stuff me with your fat cock.”  

Hawks countered your begging by shoving his length into your sopping cavern. You cried out with a mixture of surprise and pain as he began to pump into you with determination. You could feel your walls clamp down on his manhood as he massaged your insides. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but to moan, your mind succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure you felt in your overheating pussy. Hawks felt like absolute nirvana, reaching parts of you that had not been touched in a very long time. He continued his strides in an exaggerated manner, ensuring that you felt every single inch of him from the base all the way to his engorged cockhead. Your wails of satisfaction began to match the reverberation of Keigo’s swollen balls slapping against your perineum, applauding the unification of two strangers and their primitive needs.  “I told you, baby bird. I knew my cock would drive you insane. Who’s your owner now? Tell me, huh? I want you to say it, to scream it at the top of your lungs. Who’s fucking up this tight cunt, yeah? Who’s filling this slutty little hole of yours, songbird?”

“You are, Keigo, fuck. Fuck the shit out of me, please. Keep ramming my pussy, baby. I’m you-” He cut off your anguished whines by shoving his fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste your own slick mixed with the flavors of his earlier meal. “Y/N, you sure are talkative for someone who can barely handle a cock inside her. Is papa bird too big for you to handle?”

“Hu-hrd-rr!”

“What was that, filthy girl? You’re mumbling.”

Hawks began to hammer into you, his breathing becoming ragged; the way you took such brutal pounding threatened to buckle his knees. He took his fingers out of your mouth so you could scream “I said, HARDER, you bastard!” You couldn’t help but to whine as he continued to fill your ears with lewd comments and grunts, his rhythm beginning to slightly falter with each clench as he fought to reach your cervix. You attempted to regain regularity in your breathing to no avail.

“Aah, aah, fuck Keigo. This is your pussy, don’t stop. Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Shit baby bird, you’re so fucking tight it hurts. Fuck, I’m gonna fill you with all my seed. You’re gonna be begging for my cock from now on out and I’ll make sure to give it to you every night. Now cum for me, baby. Sing me a song, songbird. I wanna hear you fucking say whose cock is claiming your pussy!” The screech you let out was inhumane, your legs shaking savagely as a deep, almost painful orgasm rippled from your center. The lilt of your voice sent Hawks into a frenzy, his thrusts becoming unstable and jolting as he moaned your name. You saw Hawks’ eyes begin to glaze over and saw your opportunity to attack. You turned to reach for his throat and pressed firmly with your thumb and index finger with just enough pressure to surprise him, cutting him off mid-groan. “Awhk, f-feels sh-so good. Almost th-there.” You wrapped your legs around Takami’s hips and squeezed as tightly as possible, leaving the pro hero no choice but to release himself inside you, hips bucking as his load emptied in rivets.  

“Ahh shit, y/n. I meant to pull out. I should’ve asked you first.” He sighed as he slowly removed himself from you. You both watched his fatigued member leave your orifice covered in the combination of juices. “Well normally when people order food here, they don’t end up balls deep in me so…” you retorted. Hawks chuckled, a dash of pink beginning to spread on his cheeks. “Well pro heroes don’t normally meet such gorgeous and smart-ass chicks working at fried chicken shops.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. You weren’t immune to his charm, and you were wondering what just transpired. Hawks searched for a clean towel and began to wipe you off, erasing evidence of the night’s events. “I guess I’ll see you around then,” you offered as you both began to redress yourselves. You hoped deeply you would see him again someday, even if it was just to order food. Hawks planted a soft kiss on your cheek, then asked “when’s your next day off, y/n?” You sighed lightly, “I actually have the next day off. Thank All Might, I’m exhausted.”

Hawks smiled, ruffled your hair, and replied “hope you’re not too exhausted. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to take you out on a proper date. I know this great little place that sells the best chicken.”  

[ddarkhours]

Special Birthday Gift; Lee Minho

Sub!MinhoxFem!reader; pegging and light bondage

word count: 1765; proofread: i think so; requested?: yes!! my first request:3 a/n: please lmk if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes!

Minho gave you a look, thigh tensing under your hand, but you weren’t doing anything wrong, just wanted to be close to your boyfriend. His mind, on the other hand, began to wander. His members were talking amongst themselves, full from the meal and finishing up the remainder of their drinks and desserts. “You okay?” You tightened your grip on his leg, the boy seemingly zoned out of the action taking place at the table, nobody else seemed to notice, keeping the steady flow of their conversation. “Yeah ‘m fine, just got lost in thought” it wasn’t like him and you both knew, in fact, his mind was preoccupied with how to ask you for a birthday present he didn’t know how you’d react to. The thought of what he wanted you to do to him was making his blood rush downwards, his jeans beginning to feel uncomfortably tight. Soon the waiter was called and you paid for the meal and everyone slowly stood up to leave. Goodbyes and well wishes were spoken, exiting the restaurant to feel the cool autumn air hit the parts of your skin your clothes didn’t cover. The boys waved as they turned the street corner, in turn making you smile and wave back, thanking them for coming to surprise Minho for his birthday.

Minho snaked his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder “Y/n.. Can I ask you for a special birthday gift?” you could see the vapor from his breath next to your face, you hummed affirmatively “I want you to tie me up.. And I want you to fuck me with a toy” Your heart was racing at this point, and his wasn’t too far behind, even through the thick material of the jackets you wore, you could still feel his heart pounding. “Do you want me to buy you some things? Why don’t you go home and get ready for me hm?” thrilled, the boy leapt in front of you, his cheeks and ears turning pink, giving you a kiss before walking off in the direction of your shared apartment, it being not too far from the restaurant you had just left. You smiled to yourself, walking in the direction of the nearest “toy shop” already thinking of what to get your boyfriend for his special gift. Mentally preparing yourself on the way, you had never gone to a store like this in person before, but there’s a first for everything, you thought.

To your surprise the experience at the sex shop wasn’t as awkward as you were expecting, sure, telling a complete stranger that you wanted something to peg your boyfriend with was slightly weird, but the employee at the store was very enthusiastic about helping you find what you would like the most. You ended up leaving the store with 2 new toys to try, and a whole lot of rope, all wrapped up nicely in a purple gift bag.

Clothes are thrown off as soon as you enter the apartment, almost forgetting to lock the door as you immediately attack your boyfriend with kisses all over his neck. The boy welcoming the warm contact, the thought of what was going to happen already having him tight in his pants. You made your way into your bedroom, tossing off what undergarments that remained, leaving him completely exposed to you. The boy was so eager, his kisses getting messier and more desperate, whines leaving his lips whenever you’d lose contact for even a second. You pulled away, clicking your tongue when he tried to pull you back on his lap “Nuh-uh baby, now I have to tie you up all pretty remember?” he sat still on the edge of the bed as you got the rope from the purple bag you had bought not too long ago. You crawled behind him, tying the rope before slipping his wrist in the two knots “too tight?” you pulled on the rope to bind his hands together “feels okay” his voice was trembling with excitement but he stayed patient. “Lay back for me” Minho did as told, using his legs to push himself further up the bed, letting you tie him to the bed frame. You took more rope, this time tying each of his thighs and calves together before tying them to the bed posts, giving you full access to his hole and cock. With each knot and tug at the rope his dick would twitch, whining at some particularly tight ties. “Please touch me Y/n?” his voice was small, his plea coming out as a question.

You sat down on the corner “please tell me in time if something goes too far okay?” he nodded, mind cloudy enough that he almost forgot his safe words “I’m green right now, please Y/n” his confirmation was enough, finally you took out the lube and blue double sided vibrator and the smaller bullet one you had bought. Minho threw his head back, whining at the sight of his new presents. “Be patient baby” you opened the lube, pouring some over your fingers and his hole. You brought your fingertips to him, teasing his entrance, giving him goosebumps and leaving him shuddering. “Ready?” he whined, nodding only wanting more of your touches. You slowly pushed one finger in, making sure you didn’t hurt him. He whined when you pushed another digit in pressing it against his gland, his cock bouncing on it’s own with every one of your movements. You took his dick in your other hand, playing with his tip while you fingered him. The boy was in bliss, his hands pulling at the rope wanting to touch you in some way. “Want more” finally you took the toy, pouring more of the clear gel over it, turning it on and teasing his hole with it “Tell me how good it feels Minnie” you cooed, “Ahh Y/n it feels so, so good.. Please Y/n fuck me, fuck me with it” He was so turned on it was almost painful, his chest was starting to move faster, his breath heavy even from the minimal contact, he didn’t need to ask you twice.

You took the toy and slipped it inside of yourself with ease, momentarily shivering from the vibrations of it. You rubbed it against him a few times before pushing in all the way. The boy cried out, throwing his head back and biting his lip to try to hold back any more of the sinful noises that escaped his throat. You moved your hips back before plunging the toy into him fully. You found a slow rhythm that made his head spin, his dick leaking more precum onto his stomach with each thrust of your hips. His back was arching off the bed and his breathing got rapid “Y/n please, I’m gonna cum” He cut himself off with a moan “Can I cum? Please let me cum” he threw out every plea he could think of, his orgasm fast approaching. You sped up your pace if only a little “Cum for me Minnie, I want you to cum untouched” he cried out, his muscles flexing as he pulled against the rope, white liquid pooling onto his belly from his twitching cock. “That’s fucking right baby” you massaged his balls, easing him off his first high. Minho was out of breath, sweat already covering his forehead. “Y/n still green, want more” he choked out a moan, you took the other smaller vibrator, turning it on and pressing it against the head of his cock and speeding up your hips, the movements of the toy inside of both of you were eliciting loud moans from you. It didn’t take him long to reach his second orgasm, cum spewing from his dick rubbing against his tummy in a mix of his own cum and lube under the pressure of the vibrator, whining and wriggling under you, his legs pulling at the restraints to no avail. His squirts of cum all but stopped. “Feels so good.. Gonna-” he didn’t have time to finish his sentence as more cum oozed out of his tip from the assault on the sweet spot behind the head of his cock. The sight of him like this almost sent you over the edge, but you were trying to hold yourself off for him. He was spent, heaving and body glistening from various fluids.

“One more” he begged “ One more inside of you Y/n, I wanna be inside of you” you were surprised at how many he could take, concern falling over you “Minnie are you sure? We can stop here if you want?” “No please, still green, I wanna be inside of you, I wanna feel you cum too” you couldn’t protest, you were so close to cumming and with him begging and whining for you like this, you weren’t gonna deny him of what he wanted. You took the toy out of yourself and grabbed his shaft, aligning his tip with your pussy, your slick making it easy for you to sink down onto him. He moaned out with tears brimming his eyes, “Kiss me?” he was so precious. You smiled, leaning forward to him, engulfing his lips in a kiss and tasting his moans on your tongue. His head desperately followed yours for more contact, not letting you break the kiss.  Your orgasm was building up for so long, everytime you would lower yourself on his dick your clit would brush against his skin sending shockwaves through your tummy. “Baby cum with me”. The vibrator in his ass combined with you squeezing around him, he let his fourth orgasm wash over him, letting you suck on his tongue and whining in your mouth while you rode out your highs.

Once you calmed down, stood up and turned off the vibrator, giving him a “Sorry” when you pulled it out of him, making him wince at the overstimulation, it only taking its effect now. “Thank you Y/n” he had his eyes closed while you were cleaning up his stomach and untying him, rubbing your hands over and kissing the red marks on his hands and legs. “You did so good baby” He immediately curled up after he was completely freed from the rope. “Do you wanna take a bath and cuddle and watch a movie?” he smiled fondly, liking the idea but only being able to nod, tiredness overtaking his body. “Okay baby I’ll go run you a bath”

[mdawritings]

Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 6

I.VI

Masterlist

Warning: rough sexual content, slapping, spanking, and all-around roughhousing.

Song(s): "Don’t Blame Me" by Taylor Swift

You throw your legs languidly over the chair in the corner of Hotch’s office. "I’ve already studied the material you gave me extensively." You rest your head against the arm of the chair, your eyes fluttering closed.

"If you don’t want the help we can stop these little sessions. That’s fine to settle for mediocrity. Truly, that’s your own mistake," Hotch huffs disapprovingly and you hear him stand up from his chair.

"I’m sorry. I’m just tired," You groan softly and force your eyes open, to see him leaning on the desk arms crossed against his chest as he looks over you. A small smile fights its way onto your face. He looks absolutely amazing today. He’s much more casual than usual. He has a green polo on and the top two unbuttons are undone just enough to let a little chest hair peek out. It’s got you all kinds of unfocused.

"There’s an exam in three days. You need to be prepared," Aaron raises a brow at you, waiting for you to sit up properly and pay attention.

"Isn’t it kind of unfair for you to help me study for an exam you’re writing?" You laugh a little under your breath, swinging your legs around to sit in the chair normally. You lean forward, resting your chin in the palm of your hand.

"I’m not giving you the exact exam questions. Just testing you on the material. Plus, I’ll throw in some questions about the extra stuff we’ve been discussing," Aaron nods and reaches across his desk for a notebook.

You let out another sigh and reach for your own notes. "God this is so boring." You pout.

Aaron raises a brow at your childish attitude and rolls his eyes, "You have something you’d rather do?"

"I have quite a few ideas." You grin and raise your eyebrows twice in jest. Aaron shakes his head at you, narrowing his eyes, "Fine. Fine!" You sigh frustratedly. You’re shocked he’s forcing you to study. Something about it is endearing, knowing that he does still care about your success in the class, not just purely driven by his sexual attraction to you. He holds out another sheet of information and you quickly scan the page, reading it at a pretty fast pace. "Yeah I already know all of this."

"You sure?" He countered, shoving his hands into his pockets, his thumbs hooked on the edges.

"Yes, Aaron, I’m sure," You hold the paper out to hand it back to him.

"How well do you know all of it? Is it practically ingrained in your brain? Can you recall it at a moment's notice? This is a timed exam after all." Hotch rattles off the interrogatory questions and you practically scoff at him.

"You have such little faith in my study habits it’s genuinely concerning. I’ve already made an extensive study guide, studied said study guide, and could take the exam today if I had to." You point out before leaning back in the chair again.

"How about we test your knowledge then?" He raises a brow crossing the room to stand directly in front of you. You crane your head back to be able to look at him. The way you’re positioned, you sitting, him standing, he towers over you, inevitably making his dominance over you more oppressive and obvious.

You scrunch your face up, feeling confused by his actions. "Stand up," He commands and gestures with his hand for you to move out of your chair. You stand up hesitantly but don’t move from your spot, unsure where he’s going with this. He sighs frustratedly and practically lifts you on your feet, moving you out of his way before sitting down in your spot.

You place your hands on your hips, frustrated with him, "Hotch, if you just wanted my seat you could’ve—" Before you can finish your sentence, however, Hotch grips you tightly, yanking you down, laying you across his lap. You let out a small screech in response, fearful you’re going to fall onto your face, but Hotch is quickly to catch you and hold you steady. "What are you—"

"Shut up," He groans out. He reaches forward, practically ripping off your blouse before rolling your skirt up to bunch at your hips. "I’m tired of the attitude today. You’re going to keep that wicked little mouth of yours shut until I tell you to open it, do I make myself clear?" Hotch’s large rough hand trails up your bare legs, before cupping one of your ass cheeks, rubbing and groping it.

You pause, unsure if you should verbally respond so you give a small nod. Hotch draws his hand back, smacking your ass, sending sharp stings of pain throughout your body. You yelp but sink your teeth into your lip, attempting to mute your sounds.

"I asked you a question," He growls out, rubbing over the spot he just smacked, both his hand and your skin warm from the contact. "Do I make myself clear?" He asks once more, placing heavy emphasis on each word and drawing out each syllable.

"Yes," You breathe out, attempting to catch your breath.

"Good girl," He uses his other hand to gather both your wrists, pinning them behind your back. "Corpus Delicti. Define it."

You furrow your brows, "What?"

Smack, smack. He doles out two insanely hard spanks to your ass and you cry out in response. "I asked you a question. Give me the answer," He growls, releasing your wrists so he can fist your hair in hand, "Define corpus delicti."

Your head is fuzzy from the pain and arousal as you squirm around, feeling his firm body below yours. "Corpus delicti," You pant slightly and struggle to find your words, "Also called body of a crime. It’s the principle that there must be facts or evidence that show the occurrence of a crime."

"Good," His hand runs lazily over both cheeks of your ass, his hand slightly cooler than your burning hot skin. He hooks his finger into your panties and pulls them down your legs. "The two components of corpus delicti?"

Just as you open your mouth to give an answer, Hotch thrusts two fingers into you at an achingly slow pace. His fingers are thick and fill you wholly and he curls them just right. "Oh fuck," You moan out, unable to contain your arousal.

He pauses for a moment and stills. "Don’t stop!" You whine impatiently. Just as the words leave your lips, you remember the question he asked you. "Wait, wait!" You cry out but Hotch brings his hand down harder than ever on your ass three times in rapid succession.

"Evidence that a crime has been committed and someone is criminally responsible for the act," You cry out, missing the feeling of his fingers inside of you, "That fucking hurts," You whine in pain, your head feeling fuzzy. You can barely think straight. Your bottom is on fire, your eyes sting with tears and you’re just aching for his touch again.

"You know what to say if you want me to stop," He tuts disapprovingly and the safe words you two have discussed race through your brain. You’re not going to say one. You’re in a whole world of pain but you’re most definitely enjoying, "Now if I recall, you’re not supposed to speak," He clamps a hand over your mouth, leaning his face in close to your ear, "Now be quiet. Otherwise, someone might hear you making all this unnecessary noise."

He’s taunting you. He raises his hand, spanking your ass, again, and again, and again. You’re not quite sure what spurred this on, but you’re assuming it has to do with the way you cursed at him. He finally lets up after another five spanks, your moans and cries muffled by his hand. At this point, your legs feel weak and you struggle to hold your head up. Tears stream down your cheeks freely.

"The principles of criminality?" Hotch runs his hand up your bare back, reaching for your bra clasp and undoing it to slide your bra off.

Your breathing is wildly erratic and just about everything you’ve ever learned seems to have disappeared from your memory. But out of fear of more smacks to your stinging cheeks, you rush to get the answer out, "Legality, actus reus, mens rea, fusion of actus reus and mens rea, harm, causation, and stipulation of punishment." You rattle off, letting out a small sigh of relief.

You feel his hand leave your skin and you squeeze your eyes tightly shut already anticipating the slap before you get it. He gives you two more electrifying spanks, "Ow!" You cry out, "What the fuck was that for?" You burrow your face into the arm of the chair and feel him chuckle softly beneath you. He keeps you pinned to his lap, pressing his erection hard into your stomach.

Hotch doesn’t reply simply pushing you up off his lap and back onto your knees. You sit back on your heels, squeezed in the small space between him and the arm of the chair. His hands go to his belt, undoing it and unzipping his slacks just enough to push his boxers down and free himself from his pants. He’s already hard, obviously aroused from the punishments he had been doling out to you. "Let’s put that mouth of yours to good use."

You bend down, taking almost all of him into your mouth. You wrap one hand around the base, pumping and stroking the remaining length that doesn’t fit in your mouth. You bring the other hand to cup and fondle his balls, eliciting a long, loud groan that rumbles deep in his throat. "That’s my good girl." He gathers up your hair in his hands, holding it out of your face.

You bob your head faster, picking up the pace as you run your tongue along the entirety of his cock. You pull all the way out to the tip before taking all of him back into your mouth again. His cock hits the back of your throat, causing you to choke out a gag, tears stinging your eyes again. You breathe through your nose as he tightens his grip on your hair. "Just like that… don’t stop. Take all of me, pretty girl."

Just as you feel him twitch in your mouth, beginning to buck his hips quite wildly, he pulls your head away.

"Why’d you stop I—" Hotch silences you with a passionate kiss, wrapping one hand around your neck to pull you closer, but not really tightening his grip in a way to cut off airflow. You moan into his mouth loudly and he guides you onto his lap.

You place your knees on either side of his hips, grinding against him. Your mouth focuses on meeting his, taking in every one of his moans. "Please, daddy," You whine, "I need you now." The name spurs him on and he lifts your hips just enough to push into you.

It’s a familiar feeling, but even now it still elicits a small gasp from your lips as you throw your head back in pleasure. This exposes the entire base of your neck to him, which he soon litters with small nips and kisses as he resists the urge to move you or thrust into you.

You squirm a little but he keeps your hips glued in place, "Please. Please I need more," You beg pathetically. You bring your eye line back down to look at him and he has that hungry, lustful glint in his eye that you love so much.

"What do you want me to do, pretty girl?" He mumbles against the skin of your neck and the vibrations of his deep voice send chills down your entire body. Your ass is on fire and every nerve ending feels electrified with his cock buried deep inside you like this.

"Please," Your begging intensifies and Hotch trails a hand between the two of you, rubbing your clit, increasing the pressure steadily, "Please, daddy, fuck me!" You need some form of friction, anything at all. He’s torturing you and you’re fucking sick of it. You’re hot and sweaty and horny and you need to finish.

"When are you going to learn?" He tsks softly and reaches up with his other hand to massage your breast, taking your nipple between his fingers. "You need to use your words." You whine impatiently.

"Please. I’m begging you," you tilt your head down and lean forward to kiss him quickly, nipping at his lips and aching to taste him. You let out a small cry in pleasure when he finally lifts your hips, just to slam you down onto him. He’s taking a rough pace with you. He’s wild and uncontrollable but you don’t even notice because your body feels so overstimulated. Between the pain in your bottom and the overwhelming pleasure, your head feels as if it's in a haze.

You’re on top of him, but he makes it evidently clear that he still has control, even in this position. His hands grip your hips with bruising strength and he thrusts his own hips up to meet yours with every bounce. He hits deep inside you and you cry out in pleasure, holding onto his shoulders tightly for balance.

Your skirt slides down from your hips a little, almost hiding the image of him thrusting up into you. You don’t last long, feeling the familiar pressure building between your hips, "Can I come? I want to come around you!" You cry out, "Fuck please daddy!" You struggle to get coherent words out, devolving into a series of incoherent curses and moans as Hotch continues to slam you down onto his cock.

"Go ahead," He mutters softly and leans in to kiss your cheek and down under your jaw, "You’ve been a good girl you deserve it," He speaks close to your ear and the feeling of his hot breath fanning across your face sends a small shiver through you as your eyes roll back into your head. You come hard around his cock, chanting his name and letting out loud, strangled cries of pleasure.

You can barely hold yourself up and you burrow your head into his neck as Hotch continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his pace unrelenting. You feel your legs trembling as Hotch’s pace grows erratic, his panting turning into guttural deep groans. "That’s it, daddy," You purr, nipping at his earlobe.

"Fuck!" Hotch cries out and thrusts into a few times before coming to a shuddering halt and throwing his head back onto the chair, breathing heavily.

You both stay there for a while, attempting to catch your breath and to get the strength to stand up. Hotch soon lifts you up, placing you back on your feet. He stands up soon after, tucking himself back into his pants and reaching for his belt. He walks back around to his desk. You both exist in silence, moving about the room, cleaning yourselves up. You bend down for your bra and blouse that Hotch so carelessly discarded.

"Come over to my place tonight." Hotch’s voice cuts through the silence as you are getting dressed. Your head shoots up to look at him and he can read the confusion that coats your face. He glances away from your line of sight and back at his desk. He busies his hands with some papers on the desk.

You pull your blouse on, attempting to button it before realizing a few buttons are missing. "Isn’t that a little… different for us?" You attempt to decode Hotch’s mannerisms but he keeps his focus down on the materials on the desk.

"I’m tired of hiding out in this stuffy office," He shakes his head, "Plus there’s only so many surfaces I can put you on here." He glances up at you, that mischievous smirk plastered across his face. "My apartment has a working AC system, food, drinks, and most importantly, a very large, very comfortable bed."

You hesitate, not sure how to respond. You want to go over to his place. It sounds nice but you have a sinking feeling you’re growing just a little too attached to your law professor.

"Well, I won’t be over until late tonight." You respond as Hotch picks up your bag from the floor, holding it out for you. You reach to pull it onto your shoulder. You glance up to see Hotch’s quizzical look, "I promised Charlie I would help him study. For your exam actually." You laugh softly and see Hotch’s face fall into a frown.

"Charlie Miller?" He clarifies and you nod.

"Yeah," You breathe out, attempting to right your clothing and smooth out your hair, "Something wrong?"

"He’s… just not someone I would picture you wasting your time with," Hotch crosses his arms against his chest, eyes focused down at you. You want to quickly dismiss his judgment, attributing it to Charlie’s lack of work ethic but you sense something else in his tone. Is that… jealousy?

You smirk widely, "Oh really? Are you sure that’s what’s bothering you?"

"What are you insinuating?" He tilts his head to the side, raising his brows, his voice flat and unimpressed.

"Oh I’m not insinuating anything, professor," You drawl out the title and grin at him cheekily.

He grips the front of your blouse, pulling you close to him, "Watch the attitude. Unless you want me to show you what real punishment is like tonight." He reaches down to grab and grope at your ass, eliciting a small hiss in pain.

You stay like that for a minute, your chest pressed against his, his hands roaming your body once more. He lets out a strained breath before letting you go, "Call me if you’re going to come over."

You nod, "Bye Aaron," You smile before turning to close his office door.

———

"I’m serious, Charlie, we have to focus," You laugh as he places a beer in front of you on your kitchen table.

"One beer is not going to kill your focus, kid genius," He rolls his eyes cracking open each of the bottles, "Besides, I’m the one who needs help with studying."

You grin and pull the beer out of his hands, "Fine. Then you get this back when we’re done."

"What? Are you punishing me?" He places a hand over his chest feigning shock and hurt.

You roll your eyes, reaching over to nudge his shoulder playfully, "Let’s just get started" You notice that Charlie has scooted his chair a little closer to yours, his thigh pressing firmly against yours. He brings his hands down to rest on his lap, his fingers brushing gently against your leg. The small contact doesn’t make you uncomfortable. It just doesn’t send sparks through your entire body the way Hotch’s hands do. You clear your throat, feeling your face flush. Your bottom is still wildly uncomfortable sitting here on the hard wooden chairs in your apartment.

"Outline the principles of criminality." You turn on a small smile. As Charlie starts to rattle off his answers, your mind wanders back to your study session with Hotch from earlier. Your ass is still stinging wildly. Your mind is still sort of foggy and you’re fucking exhausted. The aching between your thighs hasn’t ceased and you’re sure it won’t be going away any time soon if you decide to go over to Hotch’s tonight.

"Was that correct?" Charlie’s question startles you out of your thoughts. "Hey… y/n, you okay?" He places a hand on your shoulder.

You glance back at Charlie, realizing you’ve entirely missed what he said, "Uh yeah… let’s just move on. "Ex post facto?"

"After the deed or after the fact." He recites before giving a large grin, "So how am I doing, Einstein? Living up to your expectations?"

"You just might exceed them, Miller," You taunt but you can’t seem to get into the natural teasing rhythm with him. You can’t stop thinking about Hotch. You force your eyes back to Charlie, who seems to return the same level of unwavering eye contact.

Yes, it’s amazing when you’re with him. You’re never unsatisfied. The passion between you and your professor is unmatched. You can’t keep your hands off of him. But when you leave you can’t help but let your mind wander. Every interaction feels so static. Like your relationship is simply an exchange of services and it leaves you feeling used. Like you’re unimportant and worthless. Yet at the same time, he manages to make you feel seen. Hotch simultaneously sees the greatness in you, he acknowledges the potential and the intelligence you hold, while also treating you like every other man in power treats women. He sees you the way you want to be seen while reducing you to just your looks. You wonder if Hotch grows bored of you… what is to become of this arrangement? Do you lose the respect of your professor as soon as he no longer wants to sleep with you?

That’s when your mind stumbles over a thought you had never considered until right now: Are you the only one? He seems so comfortable with the dynamics of a student/professor affair. Are there other students he’s showering with praise before burrowing his head between their thighs?

"Y/n? Are you okay? You seem so distracted and lost today." Charlie’s voice is soft and warm.

"Yeah," You have to break his eye contact, unable to look at his features any longer, glancing down at your hands. His whole presence is the exact opposite of Hotch. Hotch is rough and blunt. His eyes are warm, the most beautiful light brown tone, contrasting with his jet black hair and warm skin tone. Hotch’s touch is rough, needy. His voice is gruff, abrasive. Charlie’s voice is smooth and velvety. Every touch from him is gentle, inviting. His skin is pale and his eyes are a bright blue. Hotch is a man and Charlie is… well Charlie is practically a boy. Still older than you, but immaturity and inexperience run rampant through him.

His hand reaches under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. He doesn’t speak, his eyes just searching yours. And suddenly you’re kissing him.

His hands are warm on your cheeks. He pulls you close, your hands resting on his bare chest, easily accessible because the top buttons of his shirt are open. His mouth is soft and warm against yours. One hand comes to the back of your neck, the other trailing down to your back. He pushes your back, your body arching against him.

Soft slow kisses turn into more rapid, needy ones. Your hands explore his body and you notice just how different he is from Hotch. His skin is smooth and heavily muscled. He pulls you closer, attempting to remove any distance that remains between your bodies. You don’t have time to think, he just lets your hands explore his torso. His hands move steadily down, resting on your bare thighs before sliding just under the hem of your skirt.

Your fingers work at the buttons on his shirt and his large hands rest on your hips under your skirt. In a second, he pulls you as close as possible, settling you onto his lap. You let out a soft moan in response. And Charlie lets out a low chuckle that vibrates through your entire body. That’s enough for you to pause and think for a second.

What are you doing? What the actual fuck are you doing?

You freeze, stopping the kiss to pull away. You look over Charlie’s flushed features, his eyes alight with lust and his lips plump and swollen from your kiss.

"I’m sorry. I can’t," You start to speak and get off of his lap, taking a few steps away. You’re struggling to catch your breath and you haphazardly grab your belongings.

Charlie grabs your hand lightly, "Wait, wait where are you going?"

"I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that," You shake your hand, yanking your hand from his grip. "I shouldn’t have…"

"Did I do something wrong?" Charlie scrunches up his brows confused.

"No! No," You reassure him, maybe just a little too forcefully, "I just… I really have to go." And with that you’re practically running out the door, running out of your own apartment just to clear your mind and get some air.

As soon as you step outside, your first thoughts are of Hotch. You’re not dating him, nothing is solid, there’s no exclusivity. He could be sleeping with a million other students for all you know, but for some reason, you feel dirty. You feel guilty. You can’t possibly comprehend why you feel like this. There are hardly any real moments of connection between you and Hotch. You enjoy each other’s company but it’s not as if you would ever spend time together without having sex. That would make what you and Hotch have too real. And it’s not. It’s just sex, no promises, no commitments. Just pure, animalistic acts of passion.

You think about Charlie. You’ve led him on. You let out a frustrated groan, walking down the block from your apartment. The weather is getting colder every day and you shiver slightly. As your feet scrape against the pavement you think about the other night when Hotch walked you home and you feel the guilt growing inside of you. Maybe there is some connection between the two of you. Or maybe that’s entirely one-sided.

Either way, whatever just happened with Charlie was incredibly wrong and should never have happened no matter how good it felt or how nice and kind he is to you. You have this thing with Hotch. Whatever the thing is, all you know is that you can’t think of anyone other than Hotch, even as Charlie’s hands gripped and massaged your skin. Your heart is pounding and your breathing is tremulous. It's getting so cold that you can see your breath hang in the air.

You dig into your bag for your phone. You flip it open and dial the number. "Aaron? I’m on my way over now."

Chapter 7: I.VII →