#my fic 2022

[rogueddie]

Steve nearly winces when he steps into the room, following behind Dustin and Mike. He's already wishing he'd tried to shut Lucas up as soon as he'd tried to say that "no, really, I don't mind!"

Because of course he's this unlucky. Of course his date would skip out almost last minute, of course he'd end up with no excuse to avoid helping Dustin with his stupid D&D game and of course the person who probably hates Steve most is crouched on the biggest chair like it's a throne.

Eddie Munson eyes lock on him immediately. He stares for a while, making Dustin and Mike shift awkwardly beside him.

"Absolutely not. No way." He's grinning though. His eyes narrow slightly at Steve, like he's daring him to do something.

"You asked for a sub, we delivered."

Steve simply raises an eyebrow, pointedly shifting the sheets Dustin had helped him make up. It draws Eddies attention off his face, finally. When he looks back up, he's smiling a little more genuinely.

The guys standing at his sides are still glaring, looking almost cruelly excited when Eddie stands up, meandering his way over to them.

He gently plucks the sheet out Steves hand, eyebrows slowly raising as he reads.

Everyone is waiting, eyeing Eddie impatiently. Dustin and Mike are tense, as though waiting for Eddie to blow up. The others seem to expect the same, though Steve imagines they're more excited for it.

"Why did you come?" Eddie eventually asks, still holding onto the character sheet. "What could possibly be so important about this that King Steve would miss the championship game?"

"Dustin said this one was important," Steve shrugs. Fights to keep his calm demeaner. "Something about it being the last one or something. He's been going on about this shit forever. Seemed cruel to leave him high and dry at the last leg."

"Well…" Eddie eyes the character sheet before handing it back. Looks Steve up and down, before finally grinning. His eyes crinkle at the edges. "Welcome to Hellfire, Lady Elora."

He sticks his hand out. Steve shakes it, trying not to grin back.

Even with how often Dustin has talked to him about the game, Steve is clueless. Dustin and Mike both save him from embarressment every time though, quick to argue different options in such a pointed way that he knows the others aren't fooled by.

But Steve doesn't mind, often finds himself rolling his eyes at their antics only to find Eddie eyeing him almost fondly.

He finds that he enjoys it though. He'd make the character Elora as a joke, mostly just throwing whatever seemed to fit at random. An Elf who's a ranger, chaotic neutral, swinging around a bat with nails.

He wonders if it sounds as stupid to everyone else as it does to him.

He's often lost on the story too. But Eddie is brilliant at telling it. Even when he doesn't understand what he means, he flinches when the others yell at a reveal. Anxiety bubbling up when things get tense, slowly getting more and more invested in the game. Even he can tell that they're nearing the end, the final fight.

"You're scared, you're tired, you are injured," Eddie says. "Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?"

Steve already knows the answer before Dustin speaks up; "I say we fight. To the death!"

"To the death," Mike echoes, nodding.

"To the death." Steve sniffs, doesn't bother fighting the grin.

Eddie grins back at him, the others chanting the sentiment. Steve feels warm with his attention locked on him.

Steve has the first roll. He still doesn't understand the numbers, but the others cheer so he assumes it must be good. But then it goes downhill, so many bad rolls.

Everyone is too hyped up for Steve to keep up so he focuses on Eddie. He's jeering, jumping up out of his seat, encouraging the chaos and seeming to control the energy of the room. When he laughs, he sounds more like a movie villain.

And then, one of them calls time out.

They huddle into a circle, just like they did in basketball. Steve is surprised by how easily two of the older boys pull him in.

"Guys, I hate to say this but we have got to flee."

"I concur."

"Didn't we just agree 'to the death'?" Steve frowns. He's not ready to give up yet. He can feel how close they are.

"That wasn't literal!"

A hand tightens on his shoulder. "Vecna just decimated us. We can't kill him with two players."

"You too?" Dustin sounds just as annoyed as Steve feels. "Vecna only has 15 more hit points left, don't be pussies!"

"Pussies? Really? Cause we're not delusional?"

"No, no, Dustins right," Steve butts in. Barely holds back a warning to Dustin about his language; it's not the time for babysitting. "We're too close now, we can't give up!"

"HEY!" Eddie calls, easily drawing all their attention back to him. "If I may interject, gentleman… whilst I respect the passion, you'd be wise to take Garreth the Greats concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don't try to be heroes. Not today."

Something about his smirk and stupid head tilt just makes Steve more determined. If he has to continue fighting this stupid game alone, god dammit, he will.

Steve only half pays attention to Mike talking strategy. He's already made up his mind.

"What do you say, Elora?" Dustin turns to him, looking uncertain.

"We can kill him." Steve sounds more sure than he probably has any right to be. But he is. He can feel it in his bones. They can win.

"Fuck yeah we can," he grins at Steve. The others look more uncertain. Dustin turns back to Eddie, shoulders back, chin up and looking almost proud. "Let's kill this son of a bitch!"

Dustin gets first roll and it's bad.

It's all down to Steve.

He can feel how tense everyone is. Dustin and Gareth start yelling when he takes to long. But he can't roll yet, follows his gut; he has to get this right, has to roll at the right time.

It's just like swinging a bat in baseball, he tells himself. Just gotta time it right…

He rolls.

The dice seems to move in slow motion. Steve can almost hear each time it bounces off the board. The tension is so thick that it almost chokes him, for a moment he's sure that he can't breath.

20.

There's a moment where no one reacts. Then Dustin yells, grabbing Steves arm and shaking him in his excitement. Mike, a more similar height, throws his arms around his shoulders. It's a little painful to have him shouting directly in his ear but, he too, is too excited to care.

The others have started yelling too, Eddie dramatically overacting his shock too. Steve can't help but laugh.

It takes a while for everyone to calm down. An even longer moment to stop talking enough so they can start packing their things up. Steve only brought his jacket and character sheet, so he stays stood at the end of the table to wait for the kids.

Eddie keeps glancing up at him as he packs most of the pieces away.

"Harrington," Grant grins at him. "Never thought I'd be saying this but... thanks for coming."

"Oh, uh, yeah, no problem," Steve tries to smile.

"Dude, you missed the championship game to save our asses in DnD," Gareth grins, throwing his arm over his shoulder. "Who woulda thought, though. Steve Harrington, huh?"

The other two laugh. Steve finally feels a little lighter, on safer ground.

"How the mighty have fallen, huh?" Steve tries. And they laugh, Jeff slapping him on the back.

At the doorway, he lingers for a moment, whilst everyone else starts heading down the hall.

"Thanks for letting me play," Steve says, turning to Eddie. "I know I'm not... uh..."

"Don't strain yourself," Eddie waves him off. "It's fine. The kids have raved about you enough for me to figure out that you're a good dude."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You should join their next campaign."

"I don't know. You're graduating, right?"

"Aww, you like me that much, big boy?" He puts a hand to his chest, batting his eyelashes.

But Steve remembers the rumors that went around, remembers exactly how true they were proven to be. And, well...

"What would you say if I am?" He fires back.

Eddie, true to his reputation, is never one to back down from a fight; "then I'd tell you to ask me out like you mean it."

"Alright. If you're free tomorrow, 8pm, would you wanna go on a date? With me?"

"You picking me up in your fancy car?"

"If you want."

"Yeah, I'm free."

"So... that's a yes?"

"Yes, that's a yes."

Steve can't help but fistpump, but it makes Eddie giggle, so he counts it as a win.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #altorprecanon #this thing has been in my drafts since august 2022 😭

[pawubits]

ok guys dont freak out but. grian fanart.

I DID SAY THIS WAS AN MCYT BLOG,,,OKAY,,

(btw this is fanart for a fic called "Healing Is a Four Letter Word" made by Hypno_cat over on ao3!)

#pawu draws #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanart #grian fanart #hermitcraft grian #watcher grian #ALSO I KNOW THIS FIC IS FROM 2022 BUT ITS SO GOOD. #a good fic never gets old FR. like i remembered the name of the fic and what it was about AND THAT IS RARE FOR ME OKAY #also i will now be going to sleep cus it is 3am and my hands are so tired after all the little scratchy lines i did jhdfkjsd😭 #also also ik the authors tumblr but. i am second guessing myself if i should @ them or not cus it IS an old fic....

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Welcome to the third edition of my annual collaborative Drarry sex scene reclist, featuring even more favourite smutty scenes and fics selected by Drarry writers, artists, reccers, and fans! A huge thank you to this year's contributors, @apricitydays-lazynights, @arminaa8, @drarrymyheart, @drarryspecificrecs, @elskanellis, @hoko-onchi-writes, @jtimu, @littlewinnow, @maesterchill, @mallstars, @myrtlefics, @oflights, @peachydreamxx, @pl0tty, @rainstormradish, @sitp-recs, @starquestingfordrarry, @tackytigerfic, @thecouchsofa, and @thedrarrylibrarian!

Please mind the tags and practice DLDR as unsurprisingly these fics feature a wide variety of kinks and some are dub/non-con. Don’t forget to leave kudos!

All Drarry unless a poly ship specified!

2022 Reclist / 2023 Reclist

Under 10k

Again and More So by peu_a_peu (E, 3.1k)

Control, Freely Given by jtimu (E, 3.8k)

Double or Nothing by jtimu (E, 2.5k)

Friends At Last by @letteredlettered (E, 8.7k)

Full by @moonflower-rose (E, 2.7k)

Glamours That Don't Fade by WouldItWere (E, 8.8k)

I've Got a Beautiful Feeling (Everything's Going My Way) by @toomuchplor (E, 3.6k)

jerk/off by @oknowkiss (E, 7.2k)

November Flush by @thecouchsofa (E, 5.3k)

of course i cum fast, i've got a snitch to catch by @swoontodeath (E, 7.6k)

On Display by @lqtraintracks (E, 396 words)

Scent and Sensibility by @aidaninkling (E, 7.5k)

The Roommates by @citrusses (E, 3.7k)

Team Building for Dummies by InnerLilith (E, 7k)

10-20k

A Saviour’s Guide to Manners and Decorum by @wolfpants (E, 13k)

Celestial (paint me like one of your starscapes) by thecouchsofa (E, 31k)

Good Boy by lqtraintracks (E, 15k)

Löyly by citrusses (E, 10k)

Power Bottom by @cassiopeiasshadow (E, 17k)

Silhouettes by sweet_s0rr0w (E, 17k, Draco/Harry/Ron)

Strange Entanglements (the particles of us) by StarQuesting (E, 15k)

What’s Mine is Yours by @fluxweeed (E, 17k)

Wield Me by @tackytigerfic (E, 10k)

20-50k

Blood and Fire by lqtraintracks (E, 45k) chapter 1, the dresser scene

Dirty Little Secret by @writcraft (E, 22k)

The Four Ds of Apparition (or: Destination, Determination, Deliberation, and Dicks) by @firethesound and @eidheann (E, 37k)

Higher and Higher (Temptation) by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

LA, Who Am I To Love You? by @epitomereally (E, 43k) chapter 4

Ligabus Filium by tessacrowley (E, 42k)

Our Objective Remains Unchanged by citrusses (E, 46k) chapter 7

Now I Know In Part by @dodgerkedavra (E, 40k)

Some Nights by thecouchsofa (E, 24k, Draco/Harry/Ron)

Waking Up Slow by sweet_s0rr0w (E, 22k)

Over 50k

Grounds for Divorce by tepre (E, 122k) chapter 7 and chapter 8

Heartlines by @shiftylinguini (E, 73k)

Licurici by @lou-isfake (E, 133k, Draco/Harry/Charlie)

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Only for October by dodgerkedavra (E, 54k)

Probationary Action by toomuchplor (E, 63k)

The Rewards of Being Loved by lou-isfake (E, 161k)

Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu (E, 75k)

Servile by @wellhalesbells (E, 69k)

WHISKY-TANGO-FOXTROT by @vukovich (E, 59k)

#drarry #dronarry #did not think through doing related titles when i started all this back in 2022 #thank you to maesterchill for the Daft Punk-sounding title #ss recs #thanks to the people who recced my fics #very naughty of u xx

[windsweptinred]

Hob's kettle really doesn't get the credit it deserves for being his unfailing wingman in Dreamling fics.

#I'm revisiting some of my favorites fics #old school Dreamling #From the 2022s #And noticing a pattern #That kettle has been the reason for hella lot of slow burn acceleration #The moment that kettle goes on #You know it's gonna be ok #dreamling #Windswept ramblings

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 22: Size Difference - James/Sirius

Kinktober Day 22: Size Difference - James/Sirius x f!reader

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, threesome, size kink, size difference, teasing, James/Sirius being meanies, slight degradation, oral (m receiving), stretch, belly bulge, throat bulge, overstimulated, intense orgasm, cum swallowing, spanking, nicknames, no use of y/n

my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link 

“You’re both being meanies” your lips were shaped into a pout as you stared up with wide eyes at the two men on either side of your bed.

“We’re only pointing out the obvious, babe. I mean just look at you, you hardly reach our shoulders when you’re stood, you’re just so tiny” Sirius teased, smirking down at your petite form.

“No I'm not” was all you could think of to reply, not even aware how childish you sounded, arms folded across your naked chest.

“Hmmm, I’m not sure I’m liking that attitude of yours,” Sirius's hand was gripping your cheeks before you could move away, “what did we say about being a brat?”

Your body heated at his stern look, “being a brat is for babies” your voice lowered in tone, losing all confidence that you had just had, not wanting to be punished today.

“Exactly, so enough of the sass” he pushed your head back into the bed before releasing his grip. “I mean how can you even say you aren’t tiny when our cocks are nearly the length of your forearm baby”.

You looked away at this fact, knowing it was true, hating that they were picking on you for something you couldn’t help.

“Awww, are you getting embarrassed? Padfoot you’re embarrassing her” James joined in with the teasing, his face falling into your eye line.

As Sirius replied, he moved to kneel between your legs, “not my fault she’s so little, I mean just look at her Prongs, my cock goes all the way up to her stomach.” You didn’t even need to look down to see what he was doing between your legs as you felt the weight of his heavy cock resting against your mound, past your belly button.

Again you felt heat rising to your cheeks, leaning on your forearms to try and shift away from him but Sirius reached out, holding onto your wrists keeping you underneath him. “None of that sweetheart, I just don’t think I’m going to fit that’s all”.

You huff and roll your eyes, trying not to glance across at James as he moved to stand next to your head. “You think you’re not going to fit Padfoot? What about me? How am I supposed to fit in this sassy little mouth” his fingers gripped your cheek until they were pushed together and aching and your wriggling around did nothing to ease the grip.

“I can fit you, please let me try” you began pleading, wanting their teasing of your tiny body to be over, just wanting them to touch you in your favourite places.

James smirked down at you, displaying the beautiful dimple on his cheek before looking up at his friend and nodding. With one boy grabbing your ankles and the other holding onto your wrists, they were easily able to turn you horizontally across the bed so that your head now hung off of the edge, the same with your legs.

You were hardly given a second to comprehend the position change before Sirius was hiking up your legs, leaving your feet placed against his lean shoulders as he pressed the tip of his cock into your soaking pussy.

“Ah!” was all you could muster your overwhelmed brain to say, leaning up to stare at his thick veiny cock slowly disappearing, eyebrows knitting together from the intense stretch you were experiencing, a mixture of both pleasure and pain.

Before you could react any further, a strong hand pulled your head back over the edge of the bed, your mouth automatically falling open to moan at the sensation between your legs, giving James the perfect opportunity to tilt his cock into your mouth.

They both inched in slowly, you were silently thankful for this, giving your body the opportunity to at least try and adjust to both of them. Your pussy couldn’t even fully squeeze around Sirius’s cock, it feeling like it was being stretched to the most it's ever been, even though you had been fucked by the marauder on countless occasions. And with your mouth, you were able to try and open it as far as you could but it was all about relaxing your throat muscles, they had trained you enough for this and now thankfully you could take them both to perfection.

Sirius groaned as his heavy member lay inside your centre, feeling like it was moving all the way through your stomach and with the way he was poking your abdomen with his hand, you knew he could see the bulge in your belly.

You wish you could look at him but your air supply had been cut off as James' cock fully delved into your throat, the burn from your cunt matching that of your throat now as he cursed, seeing the bulging of his cock.

Before you could panic, they both moved out, so you were able to suck in a deep breath through your nose, the breathing technique you had to learn quickly so as to not end in a panic attack and passing out.

“Fuck darlin’, you are so tight, holy shit” Sirius praised, thumb circling your clit to help your pleasure whilst the other harshly pinched one of your nipples which only caused your cunt to try and squeeze around him.

James began fucking you faster first, scraping his dick against your tongue and pushing past the back of your mouth and down your throat, his own mouth dropping open in awe at the look and feel of being in such a small space.

Sirius picked up the pace as well, both boys now using you to find their own pleasure and even though it was intense, it always was, you loved it, loved how much bigger they were, how their hands roamed over your body nearly the width of your chest, the way their dicks felt like they were going to break your body apart but never did, it felt so good.

Your eyes closed, concentrating on the pleasure and on your breathing, making sure not to become too lost that you lost control. Even as the dribble began to seep out of the corners of your mouths and down your cheeks, just as it did from your cunt that was soaked by this point.

Suddenly you had to tap against James' leg, indicating that you needed him to pull out, which he did almost immediately, just as you looked down to Sirius, eyes watering from the intense wave of please, “I'm cuming” you screamed out.

Sirius moved quicker, growling as he felt the beautiful contractions that then spasmed through your cunt, watching you claw at the bed unsure of what to grab through your orgasm.

As he felt it begin to subside, he eased out, making you feel unbelievably empty and gaping but his hands were on your hips, turning them and aiding you to twist onto your front before pulling back until you were on your hands and knees.

James now grabbed onto the back of your head, directing you back to his eagerly awaiting cock that throbbed in front of you. You took him happily, using your tongue against the underside before taking him into your throat, bobbing your head whilst lifting your hand to fondle his balls.

Sirius enjoyed watching your talented deepthroating skills for a second before ramming back into you, causing your body to jolt forward and James to move deeper earning a deep moan from the man.

The motions were almost like a seesaw, James thrusting into your mouth forcing you to move backwards and then Sirius’ hips causing you to go forwards. It was an endless cycle of pleasure for both men and hearing their grunts of satisfaction only aided in your own tingling between your legs.

From the way James’ thrusts were beginning to slack, you knew he was close to cuming so you moved swiftly to grip his base, moving in sync with your mouth to squeeze and suck.

James tilted his head back, no longer thrusting just letting you do all the work, “fuck, just like that” he groaned before his hands pushed on the back of your head, keeping you still as his salty cum coated your throat and mouth. You had to swallow quickly so that you could pull back and take a deep breath, a string of saliva now connecting your mouth to his half-limp cock.

This also now gave Sirius the opportunity to pound as hard as he can, your arms collapsing your weight so you were now half slumped against the bed, arse in the air. Every fuck of his hips had you seeing stars, even though your throat was raw you still managed to croak out moans, especially as Sirius began spanking your arse cheeks, watching them wiggle with the movements.

“You going to cum over my cock again babe?” Sirius asked mid-thrust, feeling your pussy squeezing him harshly again and you weren’t even able to answer him, completely lost from the fucking.

You weren’t even aware that Sirius was rolling his eyes back in pleasure, trying to hold on from cumming, needing you to cum first which you did after a particularly harsh thrust that felt like it rearranged your insides.

Your toes curled, and your thighs trembled uncontrollably as you screamed through your orgasm, feeling entirely too sensitive. Sirius held you close, your contracting pussy milking his cock, his cum spurting free and coating your spongey walls, dribbling out and onto the bed below.

Exhausted, you collapsed onto the bed, half aware when James began wiping you with a warm washcloth, over your face first and then between your legs, apologising when you flinched from the touch, feeling too sensitive.

Then you were surrounded by warmth as Sirius pulled your limp body to his chest, James snuggling in close behind, they surrounded you completely and perfectly, whispering praises about how well you took them as you quickly fell into a well-deserved sleep.

#ok got to admit this is one of my favs #james potter smut #james potter #james potter fan fic #james potter one shot #sirius black smut #sirius black #sirius black one shot #sirius black fan fic #the marauders smut #hp smut #mine* #kinktober #kinktober 2022

[kulai]

based on this fic on ao3. ch11 had me holding my breath cause the tension.. . ... .?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! GODDAM

closeups below!

#wenclair #wednesday 2022 #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday fanart #wednesday x enid #ao3 #wednesday series #wednesday fic #wednesday and enid #literally screamed into my pillow #its so self indulgent i love it sooo much #ENID BEING A CHEEKY BASTARD???? #wlw art #wlw #wlw ship #lgbtq #digital art #comic #storyboard #meant to be a storyboard but i got bored and colored it #wenclair comic #color #kulai #k_ulai

[gmarseln]

Wednesday: It’s dark in here.

Enid: Don’t worry dude I got this

Enid: *Stomps her feet*

Enid: *Skechers light up*

#YES #MY HEADCANON IS THAT ENID USED TO #AND STILL WEARS SKECHERS THAT LIGHT UP #FIGHT ME #wednesday #wednesday addams #wenclair #enid sinclair #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #wednesday x enid #incorrect quotes #incorrect wednesday quotes #enid x wednesday #wednesday incorrect quotes #wednesday 2022 #wednesday show #wenclair incorrect quotes #fan fiction #fan fic #ao3 #wednesday headcanons #headcanon #wenclair headcanon #incorrect wenclair #enid emma myers #enid wednesday #wednesday jenna ortega

[thisisanewlowes]

What If I’m Not Enough? (How I Spend My Nights) | Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

Summary: You and Jake had been together for a few months. The only problem? He’s your captain. So, what happens when you have to pretend like you don’t care that another woman is hitting on him?

Warnings: Age gap (~20 years - reader is in her early twenties and Jake is in his early forties), jealousy, insecurity, Jake being soft for one person and one person only, power imbalance, allusions to smut

Word Count: 936 words

A/N: Ahhh!! My first story post for everyone’s favorite blond pilot. I hope you all enjoy this little one-shot. Let me know what you think and if you’d want to read more about Captain Seresin and his ensign!! FYI, while this isn't a part of the A-List Universe, I'm totally up for making these two their own series. (P2 coming soon!!)

The crowd in the Hard Deck seemed extra wild that night to Ensign Y/N Y/L/N. As you maneuver through the uniformed sailors and all the women who came to flirt and drink, you make sure to keep an eye out for your boyfriend.

You and Captain Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin had only been dating for a few months. While everything seemed great to you both, there was one problem: your relationship had to be kept a secret. If any of your higher-ups found out that you were together, well, losing your jobs would be the least of your worries. So, that meant you and Jake had to pretend like you weren’t insanely in love… or insanely jealous.

“Y/N!” You heard your childhood best friend and backseater Ensign Mickey Garcia call from the other side of the bar. “Over here!” You and Mickey had grown up in the same bad part of town together. You went to the academy together. You flew together. And, one day, you’d get your callsigns together too.

By the time you make it to where your friend stood, his wife was already pulling him in for a deep kiss. “Jesus!” You exclaim with a smile, “Seriously, guys, if you’re going to do that, do it at home.”

“You’re just jealous because I’M in a relationship and YOU’RE not,” Mickey sneered.

“Yeah,” you let out a forced laugh, “you’re right.” With that, you look around the bar once more to catch just a glimpse of your blond.

It hadn’t been easy for you two. You had to drive at least an hour away anytime you went on dates and you had to sneak off base every night since you two officially/unofficially moved in together. And the age gap didn’t help. Well, it helped in some ways, you thought, but not with the looks you got from strangers as you passed by. And it also didn’t help when women more age-appropriate flirted with your boyfriend.

So here you stand, finally locating Jake, only to see him looking at another woman. Jealously flashed hot inside of you. You knew that there was no reason to be upset. You were sure that he was just being polite. But, if your boyfriend was anything, polite was not that thing. For just a moment you thought about going over there and pulling his neck down so you could lock his lips with yours. But then that moment passed, and you were left staring at the one man you weren’t supposed to have any reason to care about.

By the time Jake saw you, it was too late; you were storming out of the loud bar and into the quiet chill of the winter air. Trying not to let your emotions get the best of you, you made your way down the sand and sat facing the ocean, your knees pulled to your chest. It only took a few moments of waiting for your boyfriend to appear beside you. As he sat down on the sand, he placed a large hand on your lower back and rubbed soft circles there. 

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” Jake asked with a furrowed brow and a voice rich with concern.

“Nothing,” you sniffed, rubbing your nose with the wadded-up sleeve of your favorite sweater, the one that Jake had gotten you for your birthday soon after you started dating. “Nothing, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. You should just go back inside.”

“And leave you out here all alone? Now why would I do that?” Jake drawled with that southern accent that made you melt. 

“I don’t know. I figured that you’d want to keep talking to that woman in there.” You looked up at him with glossy wide eyes and a protruding lower lip.

“Oh, baby,” the man said, pulling you close to him in the safety of the darkness. “Trust me, the only thing I had to say to her was that I wasn’t interested. That I had already found the girl I wanted to spend my night with.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, letting out a sad chuckle. “Yeah,” Jake said softly before he lightly placed his fingers beneath your chin and lifted your face to look at him. “I’ve already found the girl that I want to spend the rest of my nights with.”

You let out a small gasp as Jake moved closer to you to gently press his lips to yours. You softened almost instantly under his touch and as he lifted his hand up to brush away the rest of your falling tears with the rough pad of his thumb, you realized that everything would be okay. Because you knew that your captain didn’t say things he didn’t believe. Because you knew when he said forever that he meant it.

“Hey, baby?” Jake asked, pulling away from your face just far enough for him to be able to talk. 

“Yeah?”

“How about we go home and I can show you just how much I want to spend my night with you?” With a laugh and a playful groan, you pushed yourself off of the pilot and started walking away. 

“Where are you going?” He yelled after you.

“The parking lot, dummy! Are you coming or what?” You yelled back, a smile evident in the way your voice rang out.

With a grin, Jake started jogging after you, careful not to draw any attention, but close enough that any passing man would know that the girl in front of him was off the market. That you were Jake Seresin’s girl and no one else’s.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Tag List:

@environmental-gbcd @seresinsbrat @miselaneas @fantoz  @sailor-aviator @teacupsandtopgun @goldenseresinretriever@seresinsweetie @thedroneranger @attapullman @floydsglasses @mrsrobertfloyd @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @paigewinchester67@roosterforme @tgmrooster @topguncortez @seresinhangmanjake @callsigncurse @callsigncowboy @callsign-daydream@teacupsandtopgun @acewritesfics @missathlete31 @themissingmango @blue-aconite @whatislovevavy @sunlightmurdock @bradshawbaby @averyhotchner

#top gun #top gun maverick #glen powell #hangman #hangman top gun #top gun 2022 #hangman smut #hangman x reader #hangman fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #i literally love him your honor #i would also risk my career for this man

[oceanlix]

Get a Little Closer

Pairing: San x female reader, Hongjoong x female reader, Seonghwa x female reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 4,667

Warnings: Public sex, teasing, dirty talk, slight degradation, praise, fingering, blowjob, handjob, breast play, nipple play, hair pulling, spanking, deep throating, biting, alcohol consumption but everyone is consenting

Most days, you don't regret staying friends with your ex’s friends. Though things didn’t work out between you and Yunho, the friendships you’d gained during the time you were together were much too strong to give up on. But then there were days like today where you were reminded just how terrible an idea this actually was in practice.

“Come on,” San coos at you, patting his lap. The club was crowded and you’d just arrived, complaining about having nowhere to sit because none of the boys had remembered to save you a seat. At least Jongho had the decency to look apologetic about it. “I’ll let you sit on my knee, like Santa.”

Despite your best efforts to ignore him, your eyes drop to his lap for a second. You shake your head, mentally scolding yourself before reaching out and slapping his chest. “San, it’s not even Christmas anymore,” you sigh. “Stop being weird.”

You’ve decided to just stand next to your group at the table, grinning as Seonghwa flags down a waiter and orders your usual Moscow mule for you. But it seems like San has other plans, grabbing you by the hips and dragging you between his legs. You glance back just in time as he pulls you down into his lap, his strong arm locking around your waist to keep you in place.

Hongjoong eyes you two from across the table and shakes his head, grinning to himself. You struggle for a moment before you realize there’s no way San is letting go of you, his nose nuzzling against your hair as he leans next to your ear to speak.

“Have you been naughty this year?” he whispers, squeezing your hip. “Or were you a good girl?” He shifts you in his lap slightly and you feel his dick poking you through his slacks and your thin dress, your mouth going dry.

See, after you and Yunho ended things, you’d made a pact with yourself to not get involved with anyone else in the friend group. Your dynamic was already off balance from dating him, and you didn’t want to lose a good group of friends by making things messy. So as hot as the other guys were, you’d marked them as off limits in your mind. This had been working well for you so far…except San seemed to take it as a personal challenge, having tried every dirty trick in the book to get you in his bed. It was certainly hard to resist, with his smooth voice and sultry stare always focused on you during every hang out.

You gulp, turning your head quickly towards the rest of the table. Jongho was talking about something relating to his work; you were really trying to focus, but San was trailing his hand up your inner thigh, so really your brain was already mush at that point.

“Not gonna answer me, huh?” he whispers, just as his fingertips reach your covered slit. Much to your embarrassment, there’s already a significant damp spot on the fabric. San smiles against your neck, pressing down and making you gasp suddenly.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Yeosang asks, glancing at you with concern. Mingi also looks concerned, his sweet face slightly scrunched up. You wave them off with a weak grin.

“Everything’s fine, it’s just a little hot in this place,” you assure them. You take off your jacket to seem more convincing, laying it over your lap so at least nobody will see San’s hand under your dress now.

Yeosang nods and turns back to his conversation with Mingi, while San laughs in your ear. He’s pulled your dress up over your hips under your jacket so now your entire lower half is at his mercy. He sneaks his fingers under the hem of your panties and pulls them to the side, stroking gently through your wetness. You want to moan so bad, but you don’t think you can handle the embarrassment.

“San, stop,” you whisper, hoping it’ll be enough to convince him. “Not here.” You look over your shoulder to see him smirking back at you, just as he pulls his fingers away from your pussy and licks your juices off of them. You think your face is redder than a tomato at this point.

“Only naughty girls let themselves get felt up in the club like this,” he says, adjusting you on his lap again so that you feel his dick hardening underneath you. “Give me one good reason not to have you sit on my cock right here.”

At this point you’re not sure you even have a good reason, biting your lip to hold in your moans. But then your drink arrives at the table, Seonghwa leaning across you to tip the pretty waitress with a sultry grin.

“Thanks again,” you tell him as you grab the glass and take a huge sip. Your friend laughs as you suck down more than you normally would in one go, smirking to himself.

San’s hand slips under your dress again and you almost choke when he buries two fingers knuckle deep inside of you. They’re still wet from his saliva, but you’re wet enough that it doesn’t even matter, your hand shaky as you put your glass back down.

“So wet,” he purrs in your ear, making you melt in his lap. You don’t even care about being in public anymore, you’re ready to sit on his dick right this second. You start grinding your hips in little circles, feeling triumphant when San grunts a little too loudly.

“Don’t crush his balls, Y/N,” Jongho teases, tossing back his martini. You chuckle nervously, halting your movements as you remember where you are. You wait a few seconds until the table relaxes back into their conversations, then you glance over your shoulder and nod towards the bathroom.

San smirks, shaking his head. He leans next to your ear and pumps his fingers in and out of you steadily, curling them just enough so that he’s barely scraping that spongy spot inside of you. “I think I should fuck you right here, where everyone can see how naughty you’ve been,” he tells you, nipping at your earlobe.

You smack his chest half heartedly, slumping against him. His arm is still holding you securely in his lap, so you can only grind your hips a little bit while he fingers you. You wish he would’ve at least taken you to the bathroom; even if the two of you leaving the table would be more obvious, there’s at least an element of privacy.

You realize you’re about to come when San suddenly pulls his fingers out and shifts you into his knee, working with one hand to take his cock out of his slacks. You clutch your jacket tightly so it doesn’t fall off your lap and expose the two of you, fighting back a mewl.

San slides his tip along your folds, teasing you until you get impatient and sink down on his cock yourself. You don’t get very far with him holding your hips so tightly, but it’s enough that he shouts in surprise, drawing the attention of the rest of the table.

“You good?” Hongjoong asks, smirking. You’re not stupid enough to think he’s not aware of what’s happening right now, but you’re hoping he’s not about to expose you to everyone else. You go to speak, only for San to pull you down fully onto his cock, your words dying in your throat.

“Yeah man,” San says with a grin. He’s stroking your hips soothingly, but you just want to pinch him for being such a little shit right now. “She just sat on me a little wrong.”

“Mhm,” Seonghwa comments, glancing sideways at the two of you. His eyes fall to your jacket for a second and he smirks, hiding it behind his wine glass. Yeah, he definitely knows too. So much for being subtle, you sigh.

San waits for their attention to be diverted again before he lifts you up slightly, his tip dragging along your walls. You want to scream from the delicious friction, but you just let your head drop forwards as he fucks you slowly in his lap.

“For someone who was so embarrassed a few minutes ago, you’re certainly being obvious now,” San whispers with a chuckle. He’s right, but you’re too cock drunk right now to have a comeback ready. You’re mindlessly swirling your hips in his lap, only focused on getting off. You don’t even care if the rest of the table figures out what’s going on at this point.

San realizes you’re not responding and focuses on getting both of you off, thrusting up into you even harder. He reaches around you to grab his glass of whiskey, taking a sip like it’s nothing. You eye your mule and debate whether you can take a drink without spilling all over yourself, ultimately deciding it’s a bad idea.

“Are you close?” San whispers, his hand dipping beneath your jacket and pressing into your clit. You jolt against his hand and nod, so he starts rubbing quick circles against the sensitive nub. “Come on, cum around me, baby.”

You sigh under your breath and rock against his hand. It doesn’t take you much longer before you’re cumming over his cock and fingers, trying not to shudder too violently in his lap. He cums right after, filling you up with his seed until it’s spilling down your thighs. His slacks are definitely ruined now and so are your panties, but you can only focus on catching your breath as he tucks himself away and pulls your underwear back over your spent pussy. You swallow the rest of your mule in one gulp, smacking the copper cup a little too hard on the table.

“I’m a little tired,” you find yourself saying, wiping your forehead. “I think I’m gonna call it a night and go home.” You try to slip off of San’s lap, but your legs are like jello and you almost fall when you do.

“Whoa!” Hongjoong shouts, catching you at the last second. He looks concerned at first, but then he’s smirking at you and you gulp. Yeah, you’ve definitely been caught. He helps you to your feet, but keeps his hand on your elbow. “Do you need a ride home?”

You shake your head. “No, and none of you should be driving anyway, seeing as we all drank.” You slip your jacket on and adjust your purse on your shoulder, turning just in time to see San and Seonghwa standing up.

“I think we’re going to head home too,” Seonghwa explains. He smirks at you the same way Hongjoong did and you swallow nervously. Had he seen anything? You were sure your jacket had been covering your lap the whole time, but you don’t like the look on his face.

San grabs your wrist gently and you look into his eyes. There’s that devilish expression again, making your heart thump in excitement. “Let’s get you home, we can all take an Uber together.”

Your thighs are still sticky with cum, but you let San and the others walk you to the curb outside, Hongjoong calling the Uber on his phone. You feel uneasy with your three friends glancing at you so often, but you figure they’re just going to tease you about what they saw at the table. You don’t expect Seonghwa sliding his hand down your ass and squeezing, making you knock into Hongjoong.

“So you two were having fun earlier, huh?” Seonghwa says, fiddling with the hem of your dress. You look at him in shock, but you don’t move to stop him. “Why’d you leave us out?”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong purrs, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “What if we want to play too?” You look at him while Seonghwa sneaks his hand under your dress and pinches your butt. San stands off to the side with a grin, watching his friends feel you up.

“What?” you say dumbly, but Hongjoong drops his hand to your breast and tweaks your nipple through the fabric, making you moan. You realize you’re even more exposed than in the club, since you’re on the street waiting for your Uber.

“You’re so easy,” Seonghwa snickers, pressing himself up behind you. You want to be offended by the comment, but you can feel his cock straining against his slacks, your mouth watering slightly. Hongjoong glances at his phone and leans in to kiss your neck, purring in your ear.

“We only have five minutes before the driver comes, think you can help us out before then?” He chuckles, cupping your breast in his hand. “Or maybe we should let him watch, since you’re apparently into that.”

You moan softly, glancing over at San who is still a few feet away just watching the three of you. He grins and steps forward as if he’s been summoned, grabbing your neck and tilting your head up for a kiss.

You can only imagine what it must look like to anyone stepping out of the club right now, having three men crowded around you like this. You hope nobody sees and that you can get into the Uber without being publicly shamed, though the three of them certainly are making it hard with their hands roaming your body.

Seonghwa is rocking his cock into your backside at a steady pace, his hands sneaking under your dress whenever he can manage. San is still lazily making out with you while Hongjoong teases your breasts through the fabric of your dress. You try and count down the time until the Uber arrives, but your brain is deliciously hazy from all the attention.

“He’s around the corner,” Hongjoong finally says, and all three men stop touching you simultaneously. You whine at the loss, but the four of you hurry up the street and pile into the backseat of the car, San sitting up front beside the driver.

Hongjoong puts his hand on your thigh immediately, prying your legs open. He can feel the dried cum on your skin and his breath hitches as he looks down at it, then back up at you. Your eyes are hooded as he pulls your panties to the side and rubs over your folds, your body already leaking again at the attention.

Seonghwa grabs your other knee, subtly spreading your legs apart even wider. He nibbles at your ear and whispers dirty things you’d never imagined him saying to you, arousal gushing out of your center.

San chats up the driver while his friends fondle you in the backseat, his eyes occasionally watching in the mirror. This is not how you saw your night going, but you’re not about to complain. Your idea of not fucking around in the friend group had failed miserably, but maybe this wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

You’re so busy getting pleasured that you don’t realize you’re going to San’s house until you’re outside of it, Hongjoong pushing you out of the car as fast as humanely possible.

“Come on, let’s get inside,” San says, herding the three of you into the building lobby. Seonghwa leads you by the wrist to the elevator, placing your hand over his cock as soon as the doors close.

Hongjoong starts kissing your neck and you belatedly remember that there’s security cameras in the elevator. You glance up at them in worry, but San just shakes his head. “I called ahead and had them turned off,” he explains.

You decide to let go now, since San’s apartment is on the entire top floor and nobody will see you coming out of the elevator with three men. You squeeze Seonghwa’s cock and turn to capture Hongjoong’s lips with your own, moaning into the kiss. There’s no point in denying yourself pleasure at this stage, so you lean into it fully.

“Who knew you liked attention this much?” San comments from across the elevator. He sounds unaffected, but one glance tells you that he’s hard again, his slacks tenting considerably. You grin and wave him over.

“Might as well enjoy it,” you mutter, just before he kisses you sloppily. Hongjoong has moved back down to your neck, his hands playing with your breasts. Seonghwa unbuttons his slacks and you slip your hand into his underwear, grinning to yourself when he moans and leans his head against the elevator wall.

“You’re so hot,” Hongjoong whines, grabbing your other hand and placing it on his cock. You take the hint immediately, reaching into his pants and palming him over his underwear. You feel powerful having three hot men at your mercy like this, though you know it won’t last very long.

The elevator opens on San’s floor and the three of you stumble out together, a mess of limbs and half discarded clothing. Seonghwa steps out of his pants in the hallway, not even caring as San punches in his security code.

“Where’s the bedroom?” you ask between kisses, but San scoops you up and carries you down the hall, the other two men trailing behind you.

San dumps you on his giant bed with a grin, unbuckling his belt and taking his cock out. You don’t waste time opening your mouth, watching as he puts his tip on your waiting tongue.

“Fuck, she takes cock so well,” Seonghwa grunts, coming closer. He starts fisting his cock as Hongjoong shuts the door behind himself, approaching the bed. “Can’t wait for my turn.”

You moan around San’s cock, reaching up to play with his balls. He sighs and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you further onto his dick until you’re gagging slightly.

“Oh my god,” Hongjoong breathes, your teary eyes igniting something in him.

“Yeah, suck it,” San encourages, smirking down at you. “You look so good with my cock down your throat, baby.”

You reach between your legs and spread your pussy lips with your fingers, arousal leaking out onto the sheets. Seonghwa stares at you like you’re a piece of meat, precum dribbling out of his pretty pink tip. You wish you could fit two cocks in your mouth at once, but with their sizes, it’s just not possible.

“Get it nice and wet for me,” San keeps talking, turning you on even more. “Wanna fuck you again so they can see just how good you take it.”

You moan around his dick, your fingers rubbing your clit now as you chase your own high. San’s fingers in your hair tighten as he forces you down on his cock again, making you swallow desperately for air.

“Shit,” Hongjoong breathes. He’s taken his cock out now as well, his swollen head a dark shade of purple that you weren’t expecting. He plays with his balls as he watches you, rolling them in his hands.

Seonghwa comes to kneel on the bed beside you, reaching out to take one of your breasts in his hand. He rubs your nipple to full hardness, still stroking his cock with his other hand. Before you realize what’s even happening, his cum is shooting out over your chest, the pearly strings decorating your breasts.

San groans at the sight, his thrusts into your mouth getting rougher and deeper. You put your hand around his shaft and pull off, glancing up at him.

“Thought you wanted to fuck me,” you say teasingly, and San growls, pushing you backwards onto the bed. You fall easily, your breasts bouncing as your back hits the mattress. San grabs your thighs and spreads them wide, fitting himself between your legs.

“I’m not going easy on you,” he says, lining his tip up with your soaking entrance. You loop your arms around his neck and laugh, your breath getting knocked out of you when he pushes his cock in.

“Fuck,” you groan, your eyes closing. He pushes one of your legs over his shoulder and starts ducking you roughly, the wet sounds of your bodies meeting filling the bedroom. Hongjoong takes off his clothes and gets on the bed, hand wrapping around his cock. He and Seonghwa watch you get fucked with dazed expressions.

“So fucking good,” San growls, leaning down to bite at your chest. You can tell he’s going to leave marks, but you don’t really care about that right now, not when his cockhead is hitting your spot so perfectly on every thrust. All you can do is moan and cling onto his shoulders, your nails digging into the skin.

Seonghwa finally comes back to earth, scooting up on the bed. He adjusts your upper half into his lap, reaching down to cup your breasts and pull at your nipples. His long fingers have you arching into his touch, even as San fucks you harder and faster.

“Good girl,” Seonghwa praises you softly, smiling as you seek out his touch. “You’re doing so good for San, being his perfect little cocksleeve.” You mewl loudly, turning your head to the side and kissing Seonghwa’s inner thigh.

Seonghwa guides his half hard cock between your lips with ease, blood rushing south as you lick at him eagerly. He can’t believe he’s getting this chance to be with you in this way, his balls tightening at the thought of getting to fuck you later.

“Hey!” Hongjoong pouts, moving to your side. “Stop leaving me out!”

San chuckles, glancing at his friend. “She’s kinda busy at the moment,” he says, readjusting his grip on your leg.

“She’s got hands,” Hongjoong grunts. He grabs your hand and puts it on his cock. You try your best to start jerking him off, but with San fucking you and Seonghwa’s cock in your mouth, it’s hard to get the coordination right.

Hongjoong seems to realize this and he grabs your wrist. “Hold your hand still and I’ll fuck into it,” he tells you. You grin around Seonghwa’s cock.

“Look at you,” Seonghwa praises, brushing your hair out of your face. “You’re making all three of us feel so good, baby. You’re the best, you know that?”

You whine at the praise, more determined than ever to make your friends cum. You clench hard around San, making him curse, and you hum with your tongue on the underside of Seonghwa’s cock, feeling proud when he groans loudly.

“Fuck!” San curses, dropping your leg and rolling you face down in Seonghwa’s lap. You almost choke on his cock as San pulls out and jerks himself over your back, cum shooting out onto your ass a moment later.

Hongjoong wastes no time in pushing the younger man aside, hands fondling your butt and rubbing the cum into your skin. “Shit, you look so hot covered in cum,” he groans, smacking your ass gently.

Seonghwa grabs your hair and holds you down on his cock. “Stay right there,” he instructs. “Hongjoong’s gonna fuck you now, okay?”

Your hips are lifted slightly and then Hongjoong is sinking into your dripping pussy, sighing. “So wet for me,” he says in awe, stroking his hands along your sides soothingly. You shudder in Seonghwa’s lap, gripping his thighs for support.

“You’re doing great,” Seonghwa coos, holding your hair back so he can look at you swallowing around his cock. He’s always thought you were pretty, but this sight easily takes the cake, your eyes sparkling up at him.

Hongjoong’s strokes are long and smooth, and at this angle, the perfect depth to have you moaning around Seonghwa’s cock. You already know you won’t last long, your fingers digging into the skin on Seonghwa’s thighs. You only make it a few minutes before you’re cumming around Hongjoong’s cock, your thighs shaking with effort.

He lets you collapse in Seonghwa’s lap, quickly stroking his cock until he’s covering your back and ass with a fresh load of cum. You feel beyond sticky and gross now with four loads drying into your skin, but you aren’t going to leave Seonghwa hanging when he’s been so nice to you throughout this whole escapade.

You gather your strength and pull yourself off his cock, settling in his lap and kissing him messily. Seonghwa cups your face and smiles into the kiss, gasping a little as you suddenly sink down onto him. “You’ve been so nice to me,” you murmur against his lips, taking him in slowly. “Let me return the favor.”

You don’t have much effort left to do anything but grind down in his lap, but it seems to be working, based on the way his fingers dig into your hips. His tip presses up against your spot perfectly at this angle, leaving you moaning and gasping softly every time he moves. “Right there,” you tell him, stroking the hair at the back of his neck. Seonghwa practically purrs at your touch, his hands sliding down to cup your ass. He starts helping you move when you get too tired, all the activities of the night catching up to you at once.

“You’re so warm and delicious,” he tells you, kissing your neck and chest. “Pretty and perfect, just for us. Come on, sweet thing, let go for us one more time.” Your orgasm is building as he continues to bounce you in his lap, kissing your lips every few moments.

You feel hands touching your back, reaching around to rub gently at your clit. You don’t know who’s where, just that between the three of your friends, you fall off the edge and cum harder than you have all night, shaking and crying in Seonghwa’s lap as they all work you through it.

Seonghwa lifts you off his lap and San lays you down flat on the bed. Seonghwa strokes his cock over your face until he cums, long white strings landing on your lips and chin. All three men groan at the sight of your fucked out face covered in cum, making you smile.

“Get her a warm washcloth,” San orders, laying down next to you. Hongjoong scurries off to the en-suite bathroom, while Seonghwa cuddles up against your other side. The two of them rub their hands over your arms and legs, soothing the muscles until Hongjoong returns with the washcloth.

“You did so well,” Seonghwa coos, kissing the top of your head. You feel warm inside as Hongjoong wipes you clean, being careful to get all the dried cum from between your legs. San rolls you over when Hongjoong’s done with the front, taking the washcloth from him. He cleans your legs and ass, his hand lingering a little too long on the latter.

“Yeah, you let all of us fuck that tight little pussy,” San agrees, smirking at you. You hide your face in your arms, suddenly embarrassed again now that your confidence has worn off.

“Leave her alone,” Seonghwa scolds, but he’s directing your chin up with his fingers, a wicked smirk on his face. Your pussy throbs with a fresh wave of desire, but you know you can’t take another round right now. He slips his other hand between your legs experimentally, eyes softening when you let out a whimper of discomfort.

“Let’s rest for now, we can fuck you again later,” Seonghwa decides, kissing your forehead. San moves his hand away from your ass and cuddles up against you, hand splaying out across your stomach.

“Hey, where am I gonna fit for cuddles?” Hongjoong whines, smacking the bed. The three of you roll your eyes at him and Seonghwa shifts his lower half so there’s room for Hongjoong to slide up against you. The younger man makes a happy noise and nuzzles into your hip, throwing an arm across your waist.

“I’m so happy,” you sigh, feeling the love of your friends radiating around you. Sure, the situation wasn’t what you expected, but the outcome felt right.

Seonghwa grins down at you, tickling your sides. “Good,” he says, kissing you quickly. “That’s what we all want.”

#ateez smut #san smut #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #ateez fic #san x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #i had to get revenge on a friend lmao #last fic of 2022!! #my fics #1600

[basichextechml]

Details

Wednesday Addams/Fem!Reader

Rating: Teen // 4.7K words // Reader uses she/her pronouns, no looks are described, rated teen bc the jokes are morbid and somewhat graphic, reader is a shapeshifter, reader is a touch insecure but don’t worry guys it’s good I swear, I’m sick w covid rn so if you spot a mistake no you don’t (but actually tell me pls), there’s a playlist at the end of this fic pls check it out love you guys <3

A chain reaction is set off when Wednesday realizes she’s not actually talking to her roommate

Pt. 2

---

     Wednesday wasn’t talking to Enid right now.

     Sure Enid was in front of her, sitting on her bed, in their room, wearing her clothes, and her face- but it had, embarrassingly, taken Wednesday five whole minutes to realize it wasn’t Enid. Her hairline was off, her smile was a bit too big, and her eyeliner wasn’t done with its normal flicked technique. What cracked the bell, however, was the fact that her nails were a different color. Wednesday normally couldn’t care less, but her roommate had been trying to find the perfect shade of green for her nails for the past month and had only repainted them this morning, blabbering on and on about it. A fact that made Wednesday want to open the large decorative window, and fling herself out of it.

     But her nails weren’t green. They were blue with pink polka dots. The same pattern she had last week.

     “You’re a pretty convincing fake,” Wednesday bit, and faux-Enid paused mid-sentence.

     You’d been caught.

     Wednesday continues, tilting her head down to glare at you through her lashes. Other than those minute details- you really could be Enid. Or, at least, someone lesser than her would believe so. “Who are you, and why have you chosen to impersonate my roommate?”

     Faux-Enid sighed, before sticking on her house slippers and stepping towards Wednesday, holding out a hand. After a moment of consideration, Wednesday took it firmly in hers and shook it twice. You clicked your tongue in satisfaction- a decidedly un-Enid thing for you to do. Wednesday never thought she’d see the uncanny implications of someone wearing another’s face so nonchalantly in person.

     “(Y/n),” You said, brows pitching up as you finally looked around freely, “I just wanted to see the great Wednesday Addams that everyone’s been whispering about.”

     “Whispering is for wakes, I prefer it that way, everyone’s been too loud since I’ve arrived.”

     You understood now why everyone was talking- well, maybe for different reasons. They were concerned about the attempted murder charges. You were wondering how someone could be so pretty. She was entirely ignoring you as well, a bold move considering you were a stranger, and you had impersonated her roommate and snuck into her dorm.

     Hm. That made you sound like a creep.

     Oh well.

     The newly occupied side of the room was sparsely decorated- a far cry from Enid’s colorful and cluttered abode. You couldn’t say it was bad, though, everything was organized, in its rightful place- and delightfully macabre, accentuating the architecture that encased it. Her bedsheets had hospital corners. Taking care not to touch anything, you glanced over the few trinkets she had, lingering on the heavy typewriter with a fresh piece of paper stuck inside its hold.

     As you take a step closer to her, she takes one back.

     You rescind your previous step, putting twice the space between you- and you catch a downward twitch in her brow.

     “A murder mystery?” You ask, looking her in the eye. Wednesday isn’t entirely sure you’re asking about her book, even though it is the topic of discussion.

     Wednesday found herself asking a question without thinking. “How could you tell?”

     You turn your back on her, this time. A dangerous decision, she decides, because she can see your neck from here. “Instinct, maybe?” You tease, turning back momentarily to wink. Wednesday’s lips purse tight, perturbed at those words coming from what seems to be Enid’s mouth.

     “If you’re going to act in such a way, I’d be much obliged if you stopped mimicking my roommate.” Her skin prickled as you sighed, rocking back on your feet as if contemplating her words.

     And then you begin to change, right in front of Wednesday’s eyes.

     Wednesday’s ever-present morbid curiosity waits for the cracking of bone or stretching of skin- reminiscent of other transformations she’d bore witness to. This was nothing of the sort- it was smooth. Too smooth. Like a hot knife through the doughy fat of a thigh. It’s disturbing as you take on a new shape, and she can’t blink, because she’ll miss it.

     Or maybe she won’t? How can she miss it when the familiar face staring back at her is her?

     You trot along to Enid’s mirror, fixing your newfound fringe and admiring how Wednesday’s face looks on you. She had dark brown- nearly black eyes, and a smattering of freckles over her soft skin. Her eyelashes are long, too, wisping against her brows and the apples of her cheeks, almost like a doll. “You really are pretty, Wednesday. Great cheekbones,” She sees the way your eyes look down at her lips in the mirror. “Nice-”

     “If you finish that train of thought they’ll find you at the bottom of the lake hog-tied with lead in your pockets.”

     You smile at her- and that’s how others would be able to tell you both apart because the muscles responsible for completing such an expression had died in her face long ago. It was like an out-of-body experience, or a successful trial after her many failed attempts at lucid dreaming. It made her feel something- something she couldn’t put a finger on- something she might not like.

     She wants to end this.

     But then you’d leave.

     She wants you to leave.

     Right?

     It may be too difficult to say no to her own face.

     You can see the twitch next to her lip, and know that maybe you’ve pushed the new girl too far- and thus, you borrow Enid again. “Don’t worry, Wednesday,” the way you say her name sends chills up her spine, like hypothermia setting in. It’s different from the way Enid would say it, like you’re pitching her voice differently, making it your own. “I won’t borrow your face if you don’t want me to.”

     And just as you make peace with plunging Wednesday into the ice-cold uncharted waters of discomposure, the door jiggles and swings open. Enid- the real one- stands in the doorway with shopping bags on her arm, ones that she nearly drops as she squeals over your presence.

     Wednesday takes a step back as the blonde entirely overtakes you, and she’s sure she’ll go blind from the embarrassingly emotional spectacle you both make. Clamoring and chattering as you discuss something undoubtedly trivial. Enid doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve borrowed her complexion. Wednesday doesn’t understand it. Maybe she doesn’t want you to leave. She feels her fingers twitch in the urge to lay you down and cut you open. Shapeshifters must have malleable cells, right? To aid in the transformation process? She wants to see what it would look like under a microscope.

     As if sensing her murderous intent, maybe you can see it in her eyes, you turn to her, a sly little smile. “It was lovely meeting you Wednesday. I’d love to hear more about your novel next time we chat.”

     The next time.

     How bold.

---

     When Enid posted on her blog about Nevermore gaining a new student and the scandal that would undoubtedly follow, you were hooked. The Addams were infamous at Nevermore, and now their oldest would be showing up midway through the quarter, tugging along attempted murder charges?

     You were itching to meet her.

     Heart practically beating out of your chest, you retreated from Enid and Wednesday’s dorm. Riveting. Absolutely riveting. Your fingers and toes were numb in excitement at the prospect of the rest of the quarter. Who knew a flash of braids and a homicidal edge was what this school so desperately needed?

---

     “I’m assuming you know her?” Wednesday asked, not bothering to look at her roommate as she pulled out her desk chair and began setting up her typewriter.

     “Oh, (Y/n)? Yeah of course! We’re like, besties!” Wednesday fought the urge to roll her eyes at Enid’s terminology. “I was wondering when she was gonna come around- when I told her you were coming to Nevermore she totally freaked.” Enid clipped her bangs back, getting ready for her nightly skin routine. “I can’t believe it took her, like, what, a week? to come say hi.”

     Wednesday hummed, barely hearing the words over the clacking of her typewriter keys, her brows furrowed in thought. Enid grabbed her caddy of soaps and prepared to head off into the bathroom. “I feel like you’ll be great friends. Ooooh, we should totally do, like, a group sleepover! I’ll be right back, think about it, okay?”

     The front door slammed shut behind Enid, and Wednesday grumbled, pulling out the used sheet of paper from her typewriter and crumpling it up. Thing looked up from his place on Wednesday’s bed, shutting the magazine he’d been leafing through to see what was troubling her. Wordlessly, she fed another piece of paper into the paper table.

     Perhaps Viper De La Muerte’s mystery would gain another character.

---

     You come to her next as Xavier in their shared botanical sciences class, and she can tell right away based on the doodle you’re scratching into his desk. It’s quite awful. Horrendous, actually- technically speaking.

     “Good morning Wednesday” You chirp, and that warbled tone is there again. Perhaps a side effect? Curiosity is creeping up on her in these spare meetings you both share, getting ready to strangle her in the best way

      Wednesday sets down her bag, and sits precariously on her chair, eyeing the etched drawing on the desk. It’s a raven, and when it doesn’t pop out of the table at her, she’s sure of her conviction.

     “(Y/n)” She states.

     You let out an affronted gasp, eyes crinkling at the recognition, before propping your chin up on your hand. “How could you tell? Was it my magnetic personality?” Wednesday focuses on the way your, Xaviers, fingers tap and fidget against the desk like you think she won’t notice. “Perhaps our first encounter has captured your heart- and you’ve fallen for me?”

     “I’d rather you watch me fall off a cliff.”

     “Sounds like the perfect date idea, how about seven tomorrow night?”

     You watch in excitement as her brows tick up a hairline of an inch and the way her cheeks look a little less dead. She most likely wasn’t used to someone receiving her sardonic personality with open arms.

     In place of answering, she chooses to counter it with another question. “Why are you impersonating Xavier?”

     Dramatically, you pull out a notebook. Not a sketchbook. A real notebook. And begin to take dutiful notes. Another way she would’ve been able to tell the difference between you and Xavier. “If someone doesn’t want to go to class, for whatever reason, they normally pay me to come and make sure they don’t miss an attendance credit, take a test, get homework-”

     “Cheat?”

     “If that’s what you’d like to call it, then yeah, cheat,” You shrug, “It makes me good money, and I get to keep the grade curve up. I’m sure you could appreciate that.” Your pencil nudges against hers, tapping against her meticulous notes.

     She’s not sure where to take this conversation, and that weird feeling is back. Normally, she’s itching to leave a conversation. Any conversation. Maybe it’s the fact that while she’s talking to Xavier, she’s also talking to you. There’s nothing to put to your voice yet, even when it’s masked and warbled by another.

     Wednesday is talking to someone, and she doesn’t really know who. The concept is eldritchtian in nature, that she could look over and not understand something that was right in front of her face. There’s no control. A masterful side eye keeps watch on you throughout the period. If she can’t put a face to a name, she could at least tack onto mannerism. Maybe then she could control that feeling in her gut.

     You liked keeping your hands above the desk and busy. You’d fidget with them often, picking at your nails. Your nose would involuntarily twitch whenever Thornhill pulled out a particularly foul-smelling plant. But was that you or Xavier? Wednesday’s pen taps the edge of her paper, leaving ink blots in the margins. She could argue that it’s you- at the end of the day it’s your brain, but another part says you could be subconsciously mimicking the mannerisms of whoever you’re impersonating. You’re a puzzle with one too many edge pieces that she’s trying to make fit.

      She’s adorable- thinking that you don’t notice she’s watching you. The thing about being different, for good or bad reasons, is that you can feel when someone’s trying to understand you. How their eyes linger. Maybe it’s masochism that runs your brain because you feel good gaining her attention- no matter how depraved it was.

     The game of ignoring and noticing each other continued throughout the period, like a dance you had practiced, making sure not to step on each other’s toes. You wondered if she was curious enough to ask now. You wanted her to ask. To be curious enough to suggest meeting up. To know you better. From what Enid had spilled about her, Wednesday was confident- and unpredictable. The ball was never in your court because she was never even playing her game with you, just hitting it against the wall by your head and waiting for you to flinch.

     You’d flinch if she wanted.

     Miss Thornhill wrapped up the end of class, the volume of the room slowly rising as kids began to talk about their upcoming plans for the weekend. You watched slyly as Wednesday packed up, flipping your notebook closed to give back to Xavier.

      “My room, tonight after dinner,” Wednesday murmured firmly, and your smile pulled taught, an ache in your cheeks. But your victory was short-lived, the lips you’d admired in the mirror spelling your crash.

     “Don’t come as anyone.”

---

     You were stupid to have not thought this far.

     Stupid, stupid, stupid.

     Getting so caught up in just trying to capture her attention, you didn’t even know what you were going to do if you got it. You thought it would take a couple more tries to get her fully into the idea of being around you- but you had underestimated Enid’s words.

     Wednesday knew what she wanted quickly, and she expected to get it.

     It would be hot if you weren’t mentally freaking out.

     She said to meet her after dinner, but that didn’t specify a certain time, right? Hypothetically, you could show up whenever. You could say you had a late dinner- but you know that wasn’t what she met. She’d already be upset at you for disregarding her last request, you couldn’t be late on top of that.

     As you walked through the hallowed halls of Nevermore Academy, you people-watched. There were so many interesting students here. No matter their disposition, they had rich lives that would no doubt continue on and only grow more complex. Intriguing powers that had so many quirks and kickbacks that you could only imagine what it felt like to have them come naturally to you. There were so many compelling people here- so why would you want to be you when you could pretend to be them?

     Shifting from foot to foot, you knocked on the door. Well, Bianca technically knocked on the door, but it was still just you. Enid answers, looking somewhat taken aback before realization dawns on her. “(Y/n)- come on in! I was just about to go meet Ajax, so it’ll just be you and Wednesday.” The way she says it sounds like she’s hinting something, looking at you with wide eyes and a mischievous little smile.

     ‘Subtle’ You mouth to her, nodding your head. Enid does a bashful curtsey, before grabbing her keys. She makes sure it’s loud as she locks the door behind her.

     And then it’s two.

     Wednesday looks positively deadly cut against the low light of the iconic Ophelia Hall window. The way she glares through you emphasizes her distaste for your actions.

     “I see you’ve decided on Bianca today. Odd, considering I asked for you.” You’re nearly prepared to say something, mustering up enough thought to figure out what she’d even want to hear, but it’s her who steps closer. And closer. And closer.

     She’s in your space now, looking up ever so slightly at you. “Take it off.”

     “You could at least buy me dinner first,” You stumble out, voice not nearly as confident as it had to be for that line.

     Wednesday only tilts her head, coy as can be, with a brow slightly raised. “I thought you liked my unconventional… date ideas.”

     You muffled a laugh, “I didn’t even get the first one. I was looking forward to seeing the rocks together-”

     Wednesday wondered if you do it- if you’d teeter into the violence of her earlier statements.

     “-If you’d jump, and if you did, how you’d hit them. Maybe, what it would look like when I followed after you.”

     You’d been lured into her trap. And by the way, Wednesday could feel the corners of her mouth twitching up, she’d been ensnared in yours. But she couldn’t let you win so easily. She couldn’t find herself letting you do it. Turning away, she marched to her desk, pulling out a thin, monogrammed book, and a pen. “I believe I made that commitment to (Y/n), not Bianca.”

     Frozen to the floorboards, you stare wide-eyed, having been put right back into the one spot you didn’t want to be. Wednesday could hear the hitch in your breath, matching it with her own to see how long it would take you to breathe again. The satisfying ache in her lungs proved that she had caught you off guard. “To make it up to me, you’ll be answering a few questions.” She points to her bed, telling you to sit.

     Relief wasn’t the right word to describe your state. Abject happiness? Pure and unbridled repose? Perhaps disappointment- because you wouldn’t be meeting your demise to the cold, small hands of Wednesday Addams. Though, a thorough interrogation will take a close second.

     There was a weird disconnect with the situation. You’d tell Wednesday anything she wanted to know. What you were, how you felt, your deepest fears, your middle name. But the idea of shedding whomever you had borrowed and bearing your face to the world terrified you. The idea that she could know everything about you and know nothing at the same time felt comfortable, but when Wednesday Addams was looking at you with a curious spark in her eyes, you felt it wasn’t the right choice at all.

     Scurrying over to the bed, you hurriedly sat down- only to sit on something soft. Not in the springy way, a bed was soft, but in the way people were soft.

     Wednesday watched in amusement as you yelped, jumping up quickly off of her bed. Thing angrily crawled his way out of the covers, obviously having been woken up from his after-dinner nap. Desperately, you apologized to Thing, seemingly unfazed by the fact that he was only a hand. She doubts he’s the weirdest thing you’ll see while you choose to associate with her. “Thing, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), Thing. Now stop apologizing.” Wednesday demands, grabbing Thing and carrying him over to Enid’s side of the room. Precariously, she tucks him in, before turning her back on him, leaving no room for argument. She pointed to the bed again. “You. Sit.” What were you meant to do? Say no? Perched on the side of the bed, you waited for her to begin her investigation a la (Y/n).

     “You can become anything?” Wednesday started, writing along the printed lines of her notebook.

     “Anything you want.” You tease.

     “I want a real answer.”

     “Anything I want, within reason,” You sigh, leaning back on your hands.

     She stopped writing for a moment, looking over the edge of her book, “And what does that entail?”

     “I can’t get too small,” You emphasize, making a small box with your hands and then gesturing to the rest of yourself, “Or else I feel cramped. And I can’t get too big, because then I’ll be stretched too thin, and everything’ll become unstable.” Wednesday narrows her eyes for a moment, hitting the nib of the pen against the paper before deciding what to write.

     “What about width?”

     “Oooh, that’s a good question- haven’t tried it? I guess? Not many things are wider than they are tall.”

     Wednesday hums in thought, before grabbing her desk chair and propping it up in front of you, sitting down herself. Your knees were knocking together, the only thing separating your skin from hers being her uniform skirts. Bianca always liked to roll her skirt up a bit, so you did too. “Does it hurt?”

     “Did what hurt? When I fell for you- Ow!”

     You rubbed at the skin of your knee where she had stabbed you with her pen, the broken skin healing itself within the blink of an eye. You could feel her gaze watching it.

     “We’re not doing that bit again. Your abilities seem to have a healing aspect.” She mumbles, furiously scribbling something down. You wondered what she was even writing. ‘Initial observation, healing aspect, eternal torture? Must review’. Yeah, no, okay.

     “Not exactly, It’s sort of like healing- but also a bit more complex. When you heal, you make new cells, right?”

     “Of course.”

     “But what I just did wasn’t making new cells- it’s just the same cells remembering what was there, transforming into that, and then moving accordingly.” Tentatively, you grab her hand. It’s cold and rigid against yours, like a corpse, and you move it to the skin of your knee. You’d never be able to tell that there was a hole there in the first place. “Of course, I still produce new cells like everyone else, it’s just if I were to sustain a large injury- a lethal one, being a shapeshifter wouldn’t save me. My cells would transform and move, but that would only be tearing me open in a different way.”

     There’s a smile on Wednesday’s face.

     It’s small, barely even there, like an apparition, but you can see it.

     Wednesday is enamored with you. Your skin was so warm. You were holding her hand so tightly. She had this disgusting, revolting feeling in her chest. One she wanted to keep there forever.

     “So I couldn’t crack your ribs open and crawl inside of you?”

     “If you had to keep warm, of course.”

     You were so close.

     Suddenly, she clapped her notebook shut, the chair screeching as she lurched out of it. Jolting, you leaned back a little, watching with wide eyes as she slammed the notebook into her desk drawer and shut it.

     “We’re going to see the rocks tomorrow.” She demanded, reminiscent of when she asked you to come here. “And I do want you this time.”

     Son of a bitch.

     “I…” Your mouth felt dry. It was amazing how she managed to make you feel so comfortable while trapped. “I’ll think about it.” And within the next moment, you were a mouse scurrying across the floor boards, and ducking right beneath the door frame.

     You didn’t stop running until you were down the stairs and in the main entrance hall- quickly changing back and collapsing against a wall.

     A mouse? Did you become a fucking mouse?

     Silently screaming into the hall, you hit your head against the ground, embarrassment flooding through your every nerve. Because what the fuck. You became a fucking mouse and you ran under the door.

     You knew what you had to do.

     You had to die.

     Life was over at this point- there was no use continuing. Wednesday Addams had (sort of) asked you out, and like a complete and utter loser, you ran away. As a mouse.

---

     You had been avoiding her.

     It had been a week since Wednesday Addams had last seen you. And a single question loomed above them all.

     Who did you think you were?

     You barge into her room, responding to her threats and homicidal tendencies in kind, making her interested, sticking her neck out onto the guillotine. Making her want to hold and touch you. Hold your warm hands. Run her fingers over your skin. And you’re hiding from her?

     To say she was positively murderous at this point was an understatement. Her rage was unconcealable. People avoided her in the halls, well, more so than before. Enid was neglecting to start conversations when they shared their dorm, fearing the wrath she may incur if Wednesday was even a bit more annoyed. She had already stabbed Xavier with her pen twice. He didn’t even have the nerve to treat her to a spectacle such as you did.

     Her cello was bearing the brunt of her bad mood this evening, pulling along the strings and bow to string together a much blunter rendition of Shostakovich’s String Quartet No. 8. The callouses on the tips of her fingers burned as she flew through the piece, a much-needed pain to distract her from her inner turmoil. It felt so right.

     As the last few notes on the page crept up on her, the quartet drawing to a close, there was a glint in the night. Brows furrowed and lips pouted, she closed her music book, setting down her bow and cello to approach the edge of the stoned terrace. A raven- big and beautiful, flapped its wings closer, a chain dangling from its beak with a pendant hanging from the end. Like it recognized her, it stalled in the air, almost waiting for Wednesday to hold out her hand.

     Tentatively, she did so, and the raven dropped the cold, sterling silver amulet into her hand. Ignoring its retreat, she turned the amulet around, peering into the glass class on the other side. Its contents puzzled her.

     “Don’t turn around.”

     Head snapping up, Wednesday felt a tingle run down her spine as she looked onto the horizon. She knew that voice.

     One that was normally distorted with another’s, warbled and lost in a tonal fray, was crystal clear.

     “I… I wanted to apologize.”

     “For ignoring my existence?”

     “Yes, I just…” She could hear your exasperated sigh behind her, and instead of turning around, she channeled her want into running her fingers along the grooves of the amulet. “I want to show you who I am. I do. I just don’t think that I… That I’m prepared for what that means. So I got you that.”

     It was a Victorian mourning locket. Inside its glass prison lay a small, cut stock card. Oil paints had been used to portray a single, lively and bright eye, laid deep into plush skin. Framing it, were strands of hair, glued and staged to look as though it would when hanging naturally. A single braid of the same hair wormed around and enclosed the portrait, snug against the silver. The hair, skin, and eye colors were unfamiliar to her- but Wednesday Addams was a smart girl, she could piece it together.

     She felt as if you had grabbed her heart and pulled it out of her chest, content to watch it slow to a stop in your hand, and all she could muster was- “Who painted this?”

     You muffled a laugh. “My dad, don’t worry.”

     Wednesday could hear your steps, and by the fourth, she could feel how warm you were against her back.

     “This is just my way of saying… that when I’m ready, you’ll be the first person I show. You’ve already seen more of me than anyone else here has.”

     Just like when you first met the infamous Wednesday Addams, your fingers were numb. Though, this time, instead of excitement, you were dreadfully, painfully, nervous. Nervous that the girl standing only a few feet in front of you would reject your declaration. All was silent, and the only sound you could comprehend was the thudding of your pulse in your ears as she held the locket out behind her.

     “Put it on for me.”

     Fingers shaking, you struggled to unclasp the chain, before pulling the chain around her thin neck. Securing the clasp again, you lingered, warm hands smoothing out the baby hairs on the nape of her neck.

     Wednesday watched unfamiliar hands flash in front of her eyes, and she knew that she had you at that very moment. “Sit,” she demands again, settling down on the floor of the terrace. One more moment and your back was entirely pressed against hers, the ridges of your spines kissing through your muscle, skin, and clothes. “Thank you,” Wednesday said quietly into the night air, “I’m… I’m pleased, that I’ll be the first.”

     She took your hand in hers, and the numbness faded.

---

Thank you guys for reading!! If you enjoyed it pls let me know, my inbox and mentions are always open and reblogs are always appreciated <3

This is a playlist I made for Wednesday, it’s got Latin American goth and orchestral pieces (including the one mentioned above), so if that’s your vibe pls check it out!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1CbNa8jneefleLKCK98HHC?si=0fc47154f345442d

#Wednesday (2022) #Wednesday imagine #Wednesday x Reader #Wednesday Addams x Reader #Wednesday fanfic #reader insert #my fics #my fic

[stiltonbasket]

Post sunshot campaign, Wei Ying leaves his ghost jie jies to babysit A-yuan while he and LWJ cleanse the battlefields of resentful spirits!

LWJ is still spooked by the ghost maidens but A-yuan is having the time of his life with them, and since WWX still trusts them more than the Lan nannies, he lets them be. One night, WWX finds LWJ taking notes from them on how to swaddle babies, make the best nutritional baby food etc and he’s melting from all sorts of emotions ;;

On a fine, clear night in the middle of Guiyue, Wei Wuxian wakes at the stroke of yin hour to find his friend's bed empty.

Lan Zhan moved into Wei Wuxian's room when he first came to Lotus Pier, determined not to waste a single moment with A-Yuan, and he was usually still awake when Wei Wuxian began preparing for bed. Once, Wei Wuxian asked his friend why he kept staying up past hai hour; and Lan Zhan had only stared at him before explaining that he could not rest until Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan were tucked away in their warded bed, asleep.

"I spent the entire war fearing that I would lose you both," he said bluntly, putting a hand on A-Yuan's little head to steady himself. "I do not think I will ever cease to fear it. It might grow easier to bear, in time—but not yet."

Afterwards, Lan Zhan even gave up his habit of rising at maoshi and started lingering in bed until Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan woke nearly three hours later; so where could he possibly be at this time of night?

Puzzled, Wei Wuxian slides out from under the covers and pads out of his bedroom, leaving A-Yuan fast asleep in his crib. It shouldn't take long to find him, he thinks, as he wanders down the lamplit corridors in search of Lan Zhan. Perhaps he went out to get a drink of water.

But instead, he finds his errant beloved—and how strange it is to think of him as such!—in the company of one of A-Yuan's ghost nannies, Meng Leilan.

Meng Leilan was the gentlest of Wei Wuxian's dead servants during the war. In life, she was the eldest daughter of a once-wealthy merchant, whose estate was seized by a rival when he reneged on his debts—and Leilan, then eighteen, was sold into marriage as a magistrate's third concubine, while her younger sister entered a flower house as a yiji.

Leilan met her death at the hands of one of the other concubines three years later, after her first child turned out to be a son—and though she remained peaceful for the first few weeks after her passing, content to linger in the shadows of the nursery where her baby slept, she was forced to bear witness to the child's murder not two months after his full-moon birthday.

It was then that Meng Leilan realized that she had been murdered as well—for she had previously believed that her death was the result of childbed fever, having died in her sleep two weeks after her baby's birth—and arose as a fierce ghost before killing her husband's second concubine in as gruesome a manner as her tortured mind could bear.

But she spared the second concubine's son, unable to do any harm to a infant even in the depths of her resentment; and after Wei Wuxian brought her into his service and told her that she might do whatever she pleased to any Wen soldier who had killed a woman or child, she settled, and asked to remain in the living world as one of A-Yuan's nannies.

But Lan Zhan cannot rest at ease in the presence of Wei Wuxian's ghostly servants, even those who had never shed blood where he could see it, so what could Lan Zhan want with Meng Leilan at this hour?

Curious, Wei Wuxian makes his way to his beloved's side.

"What are you doing here, xingan?" he teases, nudging Lan Zhan's shoulder. "If you and Leilan were going out to play, you should have invited me!"

"I did not come out to amuse myself," Lan Zhan replies, looking heart-breakingly solemn. "But Yuan'er eats solid food now, and I wanted to know which of the dishes we have at the Cloud Recesses would be best for him. You were asleep, and I was impatient—so I came out to look for Meng-guniang, though I ought to have waited until morning."

Ah, Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian laments to himself. He's been drinking my blood and eating solid food since the month after he was born. It's just that I don't feed him when you're in the room with us.

"Oh?" he says instead. "And what did Leilan tell you, then?"

Lan Zhan's fine mouth turns downward. "She said that a child born and bred in Yunmeng would fare poorly upon the fare of my clan," he says sadly. "It is fortunate that I asked her, or I might have stunted A-Yuan's growth. But now that I know better, I shall have to learn to cook."

Wei Wuxian's heart melts on the spot. "Oh, Lan Zhan..."

"But then again, I would have learned to cook for you either way," Lan Zhan tells him, rallying at once. "Yuan'er already takes hongyou in his baby food, so we might give him a milder portion of your food mixed with rice. What do you think, my heart?"

In answer, Wei Wuxian puts his arms about Lan Zhan's neck and tries not to burst into tears.

"That I can't wait for our wedding," he says thickly. "That's what I think, Lan Zhan."

At that, Lan Zhan looks so breathtakingly radiant—like a lonely white moonbeam fallen to earth and shaped into human form by the thrumming lingli in Lake Lianhua—that Wei Wuxian cannot help but kiss him, and fall back into the cradle of his arms as Lan Zhan tips Wei Wuxian's chin up and kisses him fiercely in return.

When Lan Zhan finally releases him, Wei Wuxian staggers backward, gasping—and finds himself clasped in Lan Zhan's arms all over again, for his beloved had seized him by the waist to keep him from falling over the side of the dock and into the lake below.

"Two more months," he says softly, smoothing his thumb along the line of Wei Wuxian's eye. "And then we need never be parted again."

He turns to bow to Meng Leilan, who inclines her head and vanishes in a cloud of lotus-scented vapor; and with that, they join their hands and walk back to Wei Wuxian's room.

Lan Zhan climbs into bed and falls asleep in less than half a ke, leaving Wei Wuxian to stare up at the ceiling with his fingertips pressed to his mouth in wonder—for somehow, it had not struck him that he and Lan Zhan will be married by the year's end until that very moment.

And then—

I'm going to tell him about A-Yuan, he resolves. Right after we get back from the discussion conference in Lanling. He'll love A-Yuan just the same, no matter how he came into the world—and he'll keep the truth secret for the rest of his life if I ask, even from Laoshi and Zewu-jun.

And with that, Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, and follows his beloved into slumber.

#wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan sizhui #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #cultivation baby sizhui au #my fic #long time no see for this AU! #RIP i just realized I last updated it in 2022 #anyway.....

[daddyhausen]

• kinktober — day thirty one : dumbification— roman reigns •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ masterlists } | { kinktober 2022 }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, dumbification, public sex, workplace relationship office sex, power imbalance, submissive/dominant dynamic, size kink, degradation, oral sex { male receiving }, throat fucking, throatpie, begging, daddy kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, penetrative sex, male + female orgasms, multiple orgasms, squirting, internal cumshots, vaginal creampie

{ word count } — 1k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x roman reigns

{ genre } — smut

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ taglist } — @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @damnnhausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @nicoleveno14 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @baybay-boom

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

you sat patiently beside him as the meeting came to a close

you were a silent as a mouse, taking notes whenever need be

eyeing him whenever there was a particularly important issue that needed to be addressed

you would not say your job was fairly important to those on the outside

but in reality you were the secretary to one of the world’s most powerful mob bosses

your job may be rudimentory in some sorts

what with only taking notes and being at your boss’ beckoning call

you attend every business meeting, took every phone call, checked off every list

you’re trusted more than some of his finest enforcers and associates

certainly smarter than them that was for sure

the meeting was soon adjourned

roman seemed bored out of his mind, simply dismissing them with a wave of his hand

you gathered your notepad and other belongings, adjusting yourself and getting ready to leave when he stopped you

“y/n. stay” a demand rather than a plea

you looked at him perplexed for a moment, resuming your seat as the final of his associates filed out of his office

“did you get everything?” he questioned, not making eye contact

rather insisting to staring at the wall

you furrowed your eyebrows for a moment

perhaps it was your choice of attire that put him off

a simple black pencils skirt with matching stiletto heels

a blazer and blouse with far more cleavage than any respecible secretary would dare show.

then again…this was your attire for most if not every day

“ah…yes sir!” you stammered over your words for a moment

placing your notepad infront of him on the desk

you began to ramble on with the summary report of the meeting

your words fell on deaf ears however

as roman fell intrigued with you for a moment

he was watching you speak but could hear no words

his eyes fell to your cleavage, feeling himself grow hard in his suit pants

“you’re such a smart woman y/n”

he cut you off absentmindedly, only for you to cock an eyebrow in confusion

“sir?”

“y’know…i often wonder what it would be like…”

he stood up, hovering over you, menecingly

you gulped thickly, noticing the sizable bulge in his pants

“to see you act like a little cockwhore…for me to make you a dumb little slut”

his face was centimetres from yours

your cheeks heated, flushed with arousal

“sir, a workplace relationship is highly inappropriate, especially that of the sexual kind…”

you gripped your clipboard, having retrieved it from his desk

nails digging into the thin wood

he chuckled heartily at your words

“slow down y/n…a little girl like you should not be using such big words”

he tilted your chin up, making you look at him

“i’m not asking you for a relationship, although the offer is tempting…”

his hand fell from your chin, tracing down the valley of your breasts

“think of it more as an employee benefit. in the end we both get what we want”

“s-sir..?”

you repeated, stammering over your words this time round

“look at you playing dumb already. y/n, i know you don’t come dressed like that for my enforcers”

he mentioned the mini pencil skirt and the unbuttoned blouse you adorned

you gulped, avoiding his gaze for a moment

“if you wanted my cock that bad, all you had to do was ask, babygirl”

you felt your proverbial shield come crashing down at the use of that pet name

normally you would not be so brash into giving into such temptation

but this was roman we were talking about

and the man is persistent if anything

quickly you dropped to your knees before him

an act of instinct, staring up at his large frame as he hovered over you

“good girl…”

he resumed his seat, unzipping his pants

his cock thrashed free against his stomach

far larger than you origionally anticipated

you took him in both hands, stroking the base of his cock while giving kitten licks to his tip

you took him in your mouth, already feeling the stretch of your lips around his size

“such a greedy little cockwhore already? i didn’t expect this from you, y/n”

you took him deeper, taking him as much as your throat could bear

“i’ll make a dumb slut out of you in no time”

you gagged around his cock, feeling the push of his tip in the back of your throat

he held your head down, bucking his hips upward to the rhythm of your moans

his groans echoes through his office, ringing through your ears

he came down your throat, white hot cum filling your cheeks

“thats it, drink all my cum, you dumb little whore”

he pulled out of your mouth, his cum dripping from your lips as you swallowed

showing him your tongue to prove yourself

he pet your head softly, motioning for you to bend over the desk

you did as told, ass wiggling in the air, waiting to recieve his cock

“it’s only been fifteen minutes and you’re already begging”

he lined his cock up with your entrance, teasing you for a moment

“please sir…please just fuck me…make me your dumb little slut”

“that’s more like it”

he thrusted deep into you, rough and relentless

he held your hips close to his, pushing your head down into his desk

“tell daddy what you’re job is, babygirl…”

you whined, already feeling completely full of him

“m-my job is to make daddy feel good. to be his little dumb, obedient slut”

“good…good girl”

your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as his deep voice made your skin crawl with arousal

“has daddy fucked you stupid, babygirl?”

you could only mumble and whine, mindlessly throwing your hips back against his

spit seeping from the corners of your mouth onto his desk

tongue hanging out past your lips

“y-yes daddy…” you blinked absentmidnedly up at him, through the slight reflection of the one way windows

thankfully he could see out but his enforcers could not see in

he came inside you without much of a warning

only a small grunt to signal his release

he pulled out of you, watching his seed drip onto his desk, followed by the flood of your orgasm

pretty cunt clenching aournd air as you came down from your high

“dumb slut, look at the mess you made” he remarked rather condescendingly

“don’t worry, daddy will get you cleaned up”

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

#{ my fics : 🤍 } #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns fanfic #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imgaine #wwe smut #wwe fanfic

[carpisuns]

@huntlowweek day 1: palismen!

i don’t know how to animate but please accept this low-quality gif of a scene from @lollytea’s fic 🤲

Bonus: a loser who is about to take no less than one thousand photos of this moment and then scroll through them obsessively at 1 am

#huntlow week 2022 #huntlow week #huntlow #toh #the owl house #Willow park #Hunter toh #mine #my art #toh art #sry to call ur fic that lolly I just had to make sure this counted. #27:)

[writeouswriter]

Bro, bro, there is no second Pacific Rim movie, bro, it was just a bad dream, go back to sleep

#i didn't even know it existed before 2022 #pacific rim uprising dni #pacific rim #the thought of it genuinely just makes me sad especially for this one lovely writer i've spoken to who was able to perfectly pinpoint why #anyway it's one of the few things i genuinely don't accept as canon i reject your reality and replace it with my own or whatever #the real pacific rim sequel is actually these two lovely series of fics i've been slowly continuously reading since 2022 #i don't even care that much for pacific rim but i care for aspects of what they created that i feel the sequel f*cking spits and steps on #and i care for the characters which they do so dirty :/

[otonymous]

Caught Between a Wall and a Hard Dick (Grayson) (DC Nightwing - NSFW) - Kinktober 2022

Description: 

(First posted on Pa*t*reon (pls see link in pinned post)! - early access Sept 25/22)

Kinktober 2022 Prompt #1: STUCK IN A WALL (aka kabeshiri - yeah, I had to look this one up LOL)

Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language and mature themes - reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings include: outdoor sex (in a sense lol), being stuck in a wall/"glory hole" type situation, some bits faintly wavering towards dub-con, mentions of masturbation, brief mention of edging

Word Count: ~3700 words (I promised myself I would keep these to 1500 words max.  Didn't happen.  Story of my life 😂)

Author's Note:

Hello lovelies!

Hope October is treating you well so far! 💕 Since we are dealing with more mature topics (Kinktober being the name of the game and all 🤣), please check out the warnings listed above!  That being said, please know that this fic is absolutely ridiculous, and I laughed myself silly writing it.  All in all, a good time was had.  I hope you will have fun reading this one, my friends!

-XOXO, Otonny 🥰💕

PS: Please suspend your disbelief and just imagine for one hot second that triple woven kevlar can be ripped by the bare hands of one super horny superhero.  Thanks! 🤩🤣

“Okay, on the count of three.  One, two, three!“

“Ow…ow!  Ouch!  Stop!  Nightwing, stop!”

“This isn’t working.  Thank god Batman isn’t here to see this.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Batman were here in the first place.  He’d use the door, like a relatively normal person would, not try to show off by somersaulting through a hole in the wall.  Stop laughing, Dick!“

“All right, I’m sorry,” Nightwing wheezes in between peals of laughter, broad shoulders shaking as he tries to catch his breath.  “To be fair, no one told you to follow me through the hole.  Also, ‘Batman’ and ‘normal’ have no business being in the same sentence together.”

“I thought I could make it.  Clearly, I was wrong.  Damn these birthing hips!”

You struggle some more, kevlar gloves gripping onto brick for purchase as you attempt to push, pull, do anything to free the lower half of your body from the wall it was currently stuck in, your ego now thoroughly bruised in light of your previous declaration that you could do anything Nightwing was capable of doing.

So when tonight’s training consisted of you keeping up with him as he raced across the rooftops of Blüdhaven, you followed close behind, fighting to keep your breath even and steady as you ran, swung, flipped and jumped, doing so well at keeping pace that even you were surprised until Nightwing jumped — no, glided — through a hole in a wall on the rooftop of an apartment building, his form so perfect, he made it look like child’s play, so easy that anyone could do it…

…or so you thought until you got stuck, reality hitting hard in the form of a vice-like squeeze about your hips by brick and cement that refused to budge.

And now, your ass was literally an easy target, vulnerable and exposed to the dark night beyond while the upper half of your body fumed at one costumed Dick Grayson, still snickering in the stairwell of the decrepit apartment complex.

“Okay, so I need a bit more training before I can come out patrolling with you.  I get it.  But can you please stop laughing and help pull me out before someone comes?!  I don’t want to have to fabricate some weird sex fetish to explain why I’m wearing a mask and cape.”

“All right, just relax.  I’m moving.  Guess I’ll have to use the door this time.”

Dick draws out of sight and then you hear a click and thud, the heavy steel door echoing down the stairwell though Nightwing had done his best to let it close softly behind him.

You can sense his approach: the faint vibrations of his footsteps on the tarmac, the quiet rustle of limbs heard so faintly through cracks in the wall one might have missed it if one hadn’t been trained to listen.

You imagine Dick, his blue eyes behind the mask trained intently on your ass and you cannot keep a sudden rush of heat from rising to the surface of your skin, cheeks burning in a way you wanted to think had absolutely nothing to do with how close he was likely standing to you now, the sharp V of his hips level with your jutting rear end, scratching his chin as he contemplated how best to free you short of blowing up the wall and waking up everyone in a three-mile radius.

“Hey Nightwing, everything okay out there?” 

You try to keep your voice as low as possible, but cringe at the way it still echoed in that stairwell, the acoustics absolutely perfect for a Black Canary performance.

“Ahem, uh, yeah.  Just, uh, trying to figure out the best way to…dislodge you.”

“Not to seem ungrateful or demanding, but could you please hurry it up?  Believe it or not, this position’s not exactly comfortable.”

And it was true.  Just not necessarily in the way it would seem.

It wasn’t so much the physical strain of being bent over and stuck that presented a problem; Dick had trained you well enough in the gym and out in the field that maintaining this position for an extended period of time wasn’t an issue.  Rather, it was the thought that his undivided attention was now focused on your ass; that he would have to put hands on your hips and thighs in order to free you from your prison.  Even thinking about this set your nerves on edge, reminding you of the time Dick had accidentally touched your breast in the midst of practicing an aerial maneuver. 

At that time, he gave no indication he had even noticed what had happened, occupied as he was on making sure he caught you before you had the chance to fall to your death on a pile of overflowing trash bins sixteen stories below.

But you, you had burned red beneath your mask, thanking god all the while for the fact that it was too dark for him to really see your face.

Although, you suppose he could with those infrared cameras he had built into his mask…

Never mind.  

You weren’t going to think about that.  And you definitely weren’t going to ruminate on the excitement you felt to have his hand on your breast.  Or how large and manly they looked whenever he peeled his gloves off at the end of a long night of patrolling, right before reaching into the cupboard for a box of sugary kid’s cereal as a snack before collapsing into bed.

No, you were determined not to think of those twilight hours spent lying awake in the room next to his, wondering if Dick could somehow sense your heart pounding through paint and drywall as your fingers traipsed beneath the waistband of your pyjama bottoms to pretend your hand was his, rubbing insistent circles over the wetness that would inevitably pool between your legs every time you thought of him:

Dick Grayson.  Nightwing.  Your mentor and partner in the fight against crime.

NO.

Now is neither the time nor place, you scold yourself, steering your thoughts towards the more pressing matter of why you could no longer hear him on the other side of the wall.

“Um, Nightwing, is everything okay?  Are you all right?!” you ask, panic starting to set in to think that somehow, unbeknownst to you and the upper half of your body, trouble had come calling for your partner and booty.

Though presumably, you would’ve heard something.  The wall did have a hole large enough for a person to slip through (albeit not one with hips that Shakira would’ve been proud of).  And Nightwing was more than capable of taking care of himself in any situation.  So what, then, was the cause of the radio silence?  The fact that you could no longer sense any movement behind you?

“You’ve torn your suit.”

“What?!”

Voice catching in your throat, your strangled reply echoes like a ghoul in the night.  It wasn’t so much your outfit that you were concerned about — that triple woven kevlar could somehow rip without your knowledge.  What you did find concerning however, was the way Nightwing was now behaving: strangely out-of-character.

“Right…” he continues, voice barely audible on the other side of the wall. “…here.”

GASP!

You clap a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the sound that escaped the moment you felt his touch: one long finger running along the seam that joined your skintight suit down the middle, sliding down the small of your back and over the curved crevice of your backside to close in on the heat between your legs.

You start to sweat, temperature suddenly spiking in reaction to the weird turn of events — as if the night could get any more bizarre. Holding your breath, you wait for Dick to crack a joke; say something lighthearted to ease the tension like he could always be counted on to do.  Except this time, he doesn’t.  This time, he says:

“This is dangerous.  Your suit is compromised.  We need to fix this.  Immediately.”

Different.  Darker.  Dick’s voice is even lower now in both tone and volume, so much so that you have to strain your ears to hear him. The measure of his words is slow and sure, and it makes you twitch, hips shifting in an animal inclination to wiggle your ass in order to please him.

“Wh-what do you suppose we do?” you ask, palms planting on your side of the brick wall so as to exaggerate the curve of your back.

In your mind’s eye, you imagine Dick’s breath catching — much the same way it did that time he accidentally caught you running naked from the shower to your bedroom because it was laundry day and you had forgotten to replace the towels in the bathroom you shared as roommates.

For a moment, he had stood frozen: mouth open and blue eyes fixed to your bare breasts, the creamsicles he had left the apartment a few minutes ago to procure for the two of you dripping down both hands. And then, he had abruptly turned his back to you, muttering something about chasing down ice cream trucks that didn’t want to stop.

But you had caught it: the desire in his eyes.

Undeniable, like the flush creeping up his cheeks or the tent in his jeans before he spewed “Sorry-i-didn’t-see-anything” and ducked into his room, pulling the door closed behind him with his foot because he was still holding on to two melting lumps of citrus-flavoured ice cream.

It was the elephant in the room.  The big, unspoken cloud that constantly hung over the two of you when you weren’t preoccupied with discussing training plans or the moves of petty criminals and supervillains, a topic neither dared to broach because it would make things way too messy, too complicated…

…too good to be true? 

Was it really too good to be true?  And if so, how good? you can’t help thinking, having left the ball in Dick’s court and waiting with bated breath for his next move.

“I think there’s only one thing to do to get you out of this sticky situation.”

More rustling of limbs behind you.  Perhaps your partner moving in close, kneeling to get a better look at what he was dealing with. Which could only mean one thing:

Dick’s face was now in your ass.

He touches you and you jolt, feeling the slip of his finger through the rip in your suit, right at the junction of your thighs.  You wonder if Dick could feel it — the soaked gusset of your panties.  But the suspense lasts for all of a second before he mutters,

“God, you’re wet,”

and adds a second finger to the first, Nightwing gripping onto your suit to tear it down the middle in one swift motion, exposing your flimsy panties to the night.

Throb.

Legs growing weak, you lose your balance for a moment, falling into the brick at the waist.  Your clit pulses at what had just transpired, ushering in a new wave of wetness that threatens to spill down your thighs.

“There.  Now that part of your suit has been removed, try squeezing through the hole on your side.”

It was bullshit and you knew it.  The suit was thin to begin with; shaving off a few millimetres wasn’t going to do much.  But you obey regardless, moving your hips from side to side in a manner so suggestive you felt your nipples harden to think of the effect it must’ve been having on Dick.

“Like this?” 

Laying it on thick, you feign innocence in an attempt to see how far the charade would take you.

“Yeah, just like that.  But it’s not good enough.  I think we ought to get rid of this too.”

And just like that, your panties fall away with another unceremonious rip.

“There.  Spread your legs.  Wider.  Yes, like that.  Try moving now.”

It was insanity.  

How his instructions aroused you so, even with Dick’s voice muffled and muted behind a brick wall.  You couldn’t see him, and he had barely even touched you aside from doing what he needed to do to tear off your panties and the bottom half of your suit.  And yet, he had you on edge, every shake and tremble of your body foreshadowing a climax so intense it threatened to make you scream so loudly it would wake everyone in the building.

The evening air blew cool across your skin, a contrast with the wet heat radiating out from between your legs, obediently spread for your mentor’s inspection; a crude reminder that you had an audience.

So you put on a show, exaggerating the arch of your back as you walk your hands further down towards the base of the wall, playing up the angle of your ass in an attempt to beckon, to entice…

…to prod Dick into crossing the tension-filled line the two of you had been toeing for months now.

“It’s still not working.  I think I need a push.  A thrust from behind.“

There.  The final nail in the coffin.

All Nightwing needed to move.

You can hear it, sense it; the flurry of activity as a half-step brings him towards you: the cool sensation of Dick’s dark suit as he pressed his hips into your bare skin, the familiar sound of a glove slipping off before his palm is resting on the small of your back, a shudder of breath rising from the cavity of his chest, escaping in a soft hiss the moment he feels the touch of you, skin to skin.

He really was so obvious.

“Are you sure about this?  I-I can always try the explosives, if you want—“

And a gentleman through and through.

“Just fuck me, Dick Grayson.”

Another intake of breath, sharp this time, and Nightwing’s moan transforms into a growl, low and guttural.  You bite down hard onto your lower lip, doing your best not to draw blood though it was imperative that you did not scream.  But the feeling of Dick’s lips on your body — tracing kisses in arcs that rounded the flesh of your ass before traversing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs — made it difficult not to, especially when they grew in urgency, his tongue extending to lap the length of your slit, the heat of his breath combining with an appreciative hum that you felt more than heard, thrumming through your core.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmy—“

You barely recognized the sound of your own voice: pitched high and growing in desperation by the second in a way you knew would make you cringe later on to remember when you were dressed more casually in a t-shirt and jeans.  Because there was no way you’d ever forget the way this felt: Dick’s tongue laving slow before flicking fast across your swollen clit, the man’s mouth on your pussy nothing less than pure magic in the way he brought you just to the edge of orgasm before backing off, teasing you in this way over and over again.

They said he was a pretty boy with a face too handsome to shoot, a man who had no trouble scoring even after having made some bad life decisions, like wearing green pixie boots, or even sporting a mullet.  It didn’t hurt either that he could easily count his rear end among his best “ass”-ets: pert and ample and shapely enough to fill out his suit like nobody’s business.  But it was only now that you were realizing that when it came to Nightwing, looks were only a tiny part of the equation.

Because the way he worked you over was almost criminal — sinful with how good it felt to be at his complete mercy that you were actually thankful to have gotten stuck.  Having sat himself between the wall and your thighs, Dick ate you out with gusto, his fingers busy kneading the flesh of your ass when they weren’t sliding into your pussy, taking turns in competing with his tongue to see which could elicit the most salacious moans from your lips.

“Better keep it quiet over there.  Don’t wanna wake the neighbours.”  

The smirk is obvious in the voice of the hypocrite who shamelessly chose to ignore the wet sounds he himself was producing with his head between your legs, Dick lapping with abandon as his fingers gripped onto your hips, encouraging you to rest more of your weight onto that handsome face.

Your breasts ache within the confines of your suit, sorely missing the action on the other side of the wall.  In desperation, you touch yourself, trying in vain to feel pinches and caresses through material that just refused to give.  Frustration mounting, you accidentally let out a petulant whine — much to your horror.

Whining was never your thing.

But then again, neither was having sex through a hole in a wall.

“Baby, if you wanted more, just ask.”

Baby? BABY?! Did having midnight sex on a rooftop in the heart of Blüdhaven mean that you and Dick were at the point where terms of endearment were allowed?  Also, how was it possible that the word sounded a million times sexier coming from his mouth?!

Dick pulls away and there is more shuffling, more movement.  You imagine him pulling down the bottom half of his suit until it sits below the diamond-cut V of his hips, the sleek black second-skin hugging the rounded curves of his perfect glutes.  You imagine his tights bunched around the bulky musculature of his thighs, the same ones you covertly juiced over every time it was leg day at the gym.

You had always wondered whether he wore underwear beneath that unforgiving suit, and if so, how it was even possible for him to hide those lines.  For now, however, you were content with settling for the image of Dick Grayson pulling out his, well, dick, and slowly stroking from base to tip and back again, a smile on his lips as he contemplated the messy smear of your wet pussy, spread wide and waiting beneath the hazy glow of the city’s ambient light.

“You ready for your second lesson of the night?” he asks.

“Second lesson?  What was the first?”

“Not to jump through holes in walls unless you’re absolutely sure you can make it.”

You’re so lucky I’m horny as fuck right now, you grit your teeth.  “Right, of course, Professor Nightwing.  And what’s the second lesson?”

“I’m gonna teach you how to be quiet in any situation.  Now get ready for a pop quiz.”

THRUST!

Gasp!

You almost choke on it; the air that catches in your throat the moment Dick enters you fully with a single thrust of his powerful hips.  You can feel him, the base of his cock flush against your body, your walls pulsing in reaction to the sudden intrusion of his length, his hardness, his girth, Dick’s fingers spreading your cheeks wider as he attempted to bury himself even further.

“Keep quiet now.  Not a peep, understood?  Or else it’ll be an F for you.  And I know you don’t like to fail.  Isn’t that right, teacher’s pet?  Yes, that’s what I thought.  Such a good kitty.”

Dick reaches down as he says this, hand between your legs; petting and teasing as his fingers skirt over your clit in an attempt to see how wet you could get, how tightly your walls could squeeze around him.

He settles index and thumb in a crescent about the circumference of his cock as he picks up speed, savouring the feel of your delicate skin stretched thin and wide around his body, every stroke dislodging more and more of your mutual arousal, the creamy evidence eliciting a guttural moan from the man that you considered entirely unfair when you were forced to keep quiet in a stairwell that possessed the acoustics of an opera house.

“This feels incredible.  You are incredible,” Nightwing sighs, stopping to pull back for a moment, as if to admire the sight of your pussy trembling from his administrations, right before diving back in with renewed speed and vigour to make you clench both hands into fists, biting your lower lip until it was blanched of blood.  “God, I could fuck you all night.  All day too, for that matter.”

Dick Grayson had always been chatty.  Apparently, sex was no exception.  It made you blush; every sweet, filthy word falling from his lips adding so much to the lasciviousness of the situation that you weren’t sure which turned you on more: the way his cock managed to hit just the right angle at just the right time, or the way he played with your mind, his verbal calisthenics every bit a match for his physical prowess.

And though you did your best to stay quiet on your side of the wall, the lower half of your body was a different matter — arousal made obvious to your partner with every slick slide of his cock in and out of your body, the wet sounds of your copious juices dripping down to smear the insides of your thighs and across the hard, muscular plane of Dick’s groin.

Nightwing was right.  It felt incredible.  Even when stuck in a wall, he could’ve fucked you all day and night and you’d still want more, eager and willing to take him deeply into yourself, to have Dick do whatever he wanted with you.  Because you trusted him like you trusted no other:

You trusted him with your life.

And perhaps it is this very thought that sends you, makes you feel free to let go; stepping off the ledge of control to let the most intense orgasm of your life take you. 

Dick fucks through it: pushing through the clenching pulse of your walls around him, your pussy milking his cock as he neared his own completion.

But not before he gives you one hard, final thrust from behind.

Because Nightwing — always dutiful, always resourceful — would never leave his partner hanging, stuck in a brick wall with her bare ass exposed.

And right before you pass out from the arrival of a second orgasm coming fast on the tail end of the first, you feel it:

Your hips finally sliding through the hole…

…and your head meeting the ground.

And one Dick Grayson muttering:

“Oh shit.”

Ahahahaha!!  Hope y'all enjoyed that ending! 🤣 Thank you so much for reading till the very end!  Much love to each and every one of you! For more juicy reads, please check out my P*a*t*reon page (please see link in pinned post)!

👀👉🏼 Feel free to peep the Masterpost here!

-XOXO, Otonny 💖🥰

"Caught Between a Wall and a Hard Dick (Grayson)" is copyright 2022 Otonymous, all rights reserved.

(Illustration taken from Nightwing Cover #88 by Bruno Redondo)

#nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing smut #nightwing fic #dick grayson smut #dick grayson fic #batfam #batfam fic #dc universe #dc comics #dc #my writing #kinktober 2022 #dc smut