#these other mfs will never have been in the right for how they dangle this shit over our heads

[dwtdog]

i always worry dream is too nice to people so actually yeah i hope he was “mean” not that their definition of mean actually resembles anything disrespectful

the fact that every time he actually sits down to have a conversation with someone they come it of it being like oh dream isn't that bad actually should be telling. and yet HERE WE ARE with him literally crying begging people to just fucking talk to him and still. they just don't.

#cq.asks #ITS FUCKED ITS FUCKED ITS FUCKEDDDD #even if dteam r horrible ppl #these other mfs will never have been in the right for how they dangle this shit over our heads

[kitten4sannie]

ᴅᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟᴇʀ

ꜱᴇx ᴘᴏʟʟᴇɴ/ʙᴜᴋᴀᴋᴋᴇ ➠ ᴍɪɴꜱᴀɴʏᴜɴʜᴡᴀ

pairing: half orc! mingi x elf! reader (fem) x barbarian! san x goliath! yunho x tiefling! seonghwa

genre: fantasy au/dnd vibe, humor, gratuitous smut

summary: you go on a quest with a group of brutish, questionable individuals. anything for some gold and riches, right? 

w.c: 6.5k ish…..yeahhhh

the world’s longest list of warnings:  alcohol mention/usage, soft/hard! dom party members, brat in the streets baby in the sheets sub! reader, these mfs have a hard-on for social hierarchies esp mingi (he’s a big pervert too hehe), mxm (real homies jerk each other off), monster fucking (mimic box…listen i saw it in a porn one time and its been my dream to recreate it since okay sue meee take me to court!!), five?? some?? idk they made it work somehow, voyeurism/exhibitionism, praise/degradation, pet names, olfactophilia, aphrodisiacs, teasing, vast size differences, size kink, strength kink, manhandling, oral (receiving), overstim, tit play, bulge kink, handjob, blowjob, titjob, all the jobs actually, double penetration made possible with magic incantations <3, creampies, back shots, and facials for everyoneeee !! one for you!! and for youuu~~ also the word cock is mentioned at least 50 times in this one sorry bout that hshjs

a/n: hi ahhhh so this chaotic jumble of insanity is my baby 🥹 and it’s also my very first filth fest fic of the month !!! so yk what that means ;3 go on and strap in for me okay? it’s about to go down frfr <3 this is a sort of sequel to my half orc mingi fic but it can be read on its own! also i’ve never actually played dnd,, i’ve just heard about it from my brother so don’t expect an extremely accurate representation;;; i did do quite a bit of research tho <33 but yeah that being said…. rip reader’s elussy </3

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ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙʏ ꜱᴛᴇᴇʟʏ ᴅᴀɴ

0:01 ❍─────── 3:01

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

“Ladies and gents, now this is a quest that’s not for the faint of heart,” your local guild master announced, leaning his heavy forearms on the crowded bar table below him, stroking his long, bushy beard absentmindedly, the wood furnishing of the bar creaking underneath his weight. 

The lively room grew a bit more quiet, some individuals quirking their heads in the seasoned barbarian’s direction, yours included. “With a hefty 1000 gold pieces as your reward, this quest requires you to find and locate the rare lujuria plant, then bring its seeds back to me. Unfortunately for you lot, they’re only found in the abandoned dungeons near Mist Falls. Any takers?” 

At the mention of the plant and location, most of the interested individuals turned back to their ale and friends, resuming their loud, enthusiastic conversations. You, however, couldn’t believe how idiotic the other patrons were. You could do quite a lot with 1000 gold pieces, and being a solo adventurer, you wouldn’t even have to share it with anyone. With dollar signs in your eyes and a spring in your step, you headed up to the busy bar, having to get on your tippy toes and wave your hand around past some of the larger patron’s broad shoulders until the guild master noticed your presence. 

“Now, don’t tell me a dainty little high elf is interested in the quest I just announced. You gonna scare them off with your shiny hair and sparkly crystals?” the older man gruffed, letting out a hefty laugh, before taking a couple gulps from the oversized mug he held within his large, calloused hands.

When you simply stood there with your hands crossed over your lace-covered chest, the guild master set his mug down, his bushy eyebrows raising upwards. “Oh, you’re serious.” He leaned down to your level, cupping his hand around one side of his face, allowing you to smell the ale on his breath. “Do you know why no one likes to go to Mist Falls, little Miss?”

You shook your head, causing the small jewels that dangled from your silky hair to sway a bit. You cupped a hand around your own face, murmuring, “Why does no one like it, Mister?”

“There’s some strange wildlife that frequent the land there. Otherworldly things…things that an elf like you wouldn’t want to get wrapped up in,” he explained carefully, looking over the lens of his glasses to squint at you. “Unless, you’re into that sort of thing, of course.” 

Not understanding what he meant by his vague statement, you shrugged it off, taking his underestimation of your abilities as a challenge you couldn’t bear backing down from. “I’ll take the quest, Mister, and I’ll bring you those seeds.” 

The guild master smiled down at you, chuckling a bit, like you weren’t in on the joke that he was so amused by. “Very well, little Miss.” He handed you the rolled-up scroll, his lips still curled into a suspicious smile. “Good luck with your quest.” 

Taking the scroll, you nodded your head at him, a smug smile painting your own face, as you turned on your heels to leave, reveling in the fact that your levels of commitment and intelligence were clearly in the upper echelons compared to the rest of the idiots that frequented the crowded guild.  

Before you could leave without any issues, a deeply familiar, incredibly cocky-sounding baritone voice interrupted your mental victory dance. “Would you look at that. Gonna handle a dungeon all on your own, eh, princess?” 

You quickly turned your head, your eyes landing on the tall, solid beast of a half-man, half-orc standing with one hand resting on his leather-bound hip, his golden eyes slowly studying your body with an almost nauseating amount of interest. “Mingi…” you sighed, the events of your last few meetings flashing through your brain, the tips of your ears turning a faint red. “Oh, you think I can’t handle a stupid quest on my own either, huh?” 

He shook his head, his shaggy silver hair falling in his eyes, forcing him to swipe it out of the way with his large ringed fingers. “Nope.” His simple response encouraged his equally large, equally intimidating party members, who were hanging out near him, to laugh and chatter amongst themselves. 

Now your hands were on your hips, getting hit by a wave of annoyance, your cheeks burning.  “Watch me.” 

Mingi took a step towards you, just to show you and anyone nearby just how much he towered over you, his lips quirking up into a shit-eating grin, still peering down at your body like he could already picture what you looked like without the form-fitting lace dress that was wrapped around your curvy body like a pretty present, one that he wanted to open as soon as possible.

“With a petite little body like yours?” He reached down to slip a finger into your hair, playing with one of the crystals that adorned it. “Yeah, so small and delicate, like a pretty little fairy, ain’t ya? Those monsters in that dungeon will swallow you whole.”

You might’ve hated Mingi to an extent, but he was good. Good at making you feel tiny and desirable, and so wet, you were afraid he’d be able to smell it from where he was standing. You closed your thighs together slightly, lowering your closed fists to your sides, leaning forward. “I-i’m not a fairy, you dumb orc! I'm an elf! And I don’t need your help!” Just as you turned around to leave, Mingi cleared his throat, making you turn your head back to glare at him. 

He placed his other hand on his hip, letting his weight shift to the opposite side, his head tilting the other way. “Sweetheart, listen, I know you’re very capable of getting what you want,” he mused, chuckling softly at the way your face scrunched up slightly in embarrassment. “But, I’m sure you could use some extra party members to back you up. Me and the boys want to help you. Won’t you let us?”

You gazed at Mingi a little while longer, before your eyes shifted to his friends, first drawn to the most elegant-looking tiefling you’ve ever seen. He had sleek skin that looked like expensive marble, his hair as white as the frost that would cover all the lands during the winter months, his heavy horns ridged and curled into an ‘s’ shape, and black as soot, his thin, pointed tail quietly slithering around in a snake-like motion behind the long black cloak that hung from his pointed shoulders. 

“That’s Seonghwa,” Mingi informed, with his arms folded across his wide tattooed chest. “Doesn’t talk much, unless it’s to cast a spell or call me stupid.” 

Seonghwa’s pretty lips formed a smirk, wrapping his arms comfortably around his slim, corseted waist, his sharp, milky eyes focused intensely on you, like he was peering through you and straight into your soul. 

“Oh, are we introducing ourselves?” someone said excitedly, your eyes following the voice upwards until they landed on the handsome face of the gentle-looking goliath standing besides the tiefling. At roughly seven feet tall, the broad man sported shiny, golden locks, pretty brown eyes, and a tribal tattoo that was plastered on his veiny neck, clad only in a thick pelt that sat comfortably around his solid waist, wearing matching furry cuffs on his thick forearms. “I’m Yunho! I like to get drunk and smash stuff. What do you like to do, elf girl?” The goliath stepped forward to shake your hand, his hand completely encompassing yours, your neck almost hurting from having to look up at him. 

“Hi, Yunho,” you replied, smiling softly, feeling a bit dizzy from your vast difference in sizes. Everything about him was just so big, you couldn't help but wonder what else was too. “I’m Y/N. I like to go on quests and collect gold.” 

“Don’t tell me we’re actually going to help a high elf,” the last party member interrupted in a low voice, sneering, showing off his large, rounded canines when you looked past Yunho to scoff at him. “And an annoying one, at that. I don’t care if she’s fuckable. This is still a waste of time.”

Yunho put a large, warm hand on your shoulder, covering it completely. “Don’t take San’s words seriously, sweet. He bullies people when he likes them.” 

The brooding barbarian folded his arms over the thick, furry pelt that covered his broad upper half, rolling his eyes, a few strands of his wild raven hair falling past his forehead. “Or maybe I just don’t like stuck-up little elven brats, ever think of that, Yunho?” His pronounced eyebrows joined together in a bout of sudden fury. “Huh? Can you even hear me up there, you oversized son of a bitch?”

A faint blush appeared on Yunho’s cheeks, smiling in San’s direction, before looking back down at you. “See? He loves me.” 

You returned his smile with a grimace. “He loves being a dickhead too, apparently.”

“Excuse me?!” San growled, about to walk up to the both of you to prove that he only loved moonshine, his trusty club, and himself. 

Mingi stepped in front of San, waving his hands around exasperatedly, wishing someone presented a dialogue skip option a long time ago, bored of the introductions. “Alright, alright, so are you coming with us, or not, princess? What’s the verdict?”

You rolled your eyes, opening the large entrance door of the guild, eventually letting out a long sigh, glancing back over your shoulder with a pout. You knew you had a slim chance of surviving without them, but you still had your pride. You let out a small hmph, annoyed when they still all just stood there waiting, encouraging you to stomp your silk shoe down on the ground, grumbling, “Ugh, are you coming, or what?”

Mingi and his friends chuckled amongst themselves and elbowed each other, amused by the amount of fiery zealousness your tiny body possessed, finishing their mugs of ale, eventually following you out of the guild and onto the dirt road. 

“Hurry up! I wanna explore this dungeon today, not during the next winter solstice!” you called out to them, already at the forest entrance, tossing your head back in an exaggeratedly annoyed fashion.

The half-orc waved his hand around nonchalantly, despite his large lower canines growing more and more visible the more he began to smile, pulling out a small pair of lace panties that had a familiar design etched into them. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get your little elf panties in a twist,” he chuckled, bringing them up to his face to take a sniff.

Your inquisitive expression melted down into one of horror, then scrunched again, this time pleading him with his eyes. “Mingi…don’t tell me you’ve kept those all this time.”

“Of course I have, princess. In fact, I jerk off with them every chance I can in your honor. I can cum real hard just from knowing I turned a high elf onto orc cock forever. I still remember like it was yesterday,” he sighed dreamily, wiping away a fake tear, like had just said the most romantic sentence even known to orckind.

“I still fuck elves, you twat! I don’t need you or your stupid orc cock!” you argued, turning away so that none of them could see how flushed you had gotten, heading into the forest by yourself.

“That’s a damn lie. You showed up to my hut like three times during the Great Hunt not too long ago,” Mingi explained, following after you, his friends following beside him. “Don’t you remember? I had to carry you home after you passed out from squirting too hard.”

“No!” you shouted from ahead of him, swearing you were going to melt into the floor.

“She’s got elven pride, that one,” Mingi sighed, admiring you from behind. “Anyway, I got her soaked panties to prove it. You want to see them, don’t ya, Hwa?” Mingi elbowed Seonghwa, who just shook his head in disappointment, while he continued smiling truimphantly to himself.

࿏࿏࿏

Your group took on a range of opponents, from skeleton armies to disingenuous slime cubes that you may or may not have fallen into, able to pass through quite a few levels of the dungeon, mostly due to Seonghwa’s spell casting abilities, San’s uncontrollable rage, Yunho’s knack of destroying anything he came in contact with, and Mingi’s axe-wielding skills. Did you want to admit that to yourself? Sure. Out loud? No, of fucking course not. 

You picked off bits of pink slime that still clung to your wet form, grumbling under your breath about how sticky you felt, not even noticing that some of the slime had already absorbed into your skin. 

“Need a little help there, princess?” Mingi mused, reaching down to your shoulder and wiping off some of the slime for you, his fingers tingling once he had done so. 

“I suppose so,” you murmured, standing still so that he could continue helping you, surprisingly not even that bothered when the other members of your newfound party all gathered around you and picked or pulled off the remnants of slime that remained on your body, face, and hair. 

As you entered the next room, all five of you noticed how the tinglyness remained, how it spread throughout your bodies like a gentle ripple effect, your bodies now collectively hot to the touch, though no one said anything to each other — at least, not yet, anyway. 

“A chest!” you gasped excitedly, putting your dagger back into its respective holder and running up to the large, gold-plated chest that sat at the edge of the room, just waiting for someone to open it up and collect its contents. 

“Don’t be stupid, elven brat. Not all chests are filled with treasure. Some of them could be decoys. You know that, right?” San rested the rounded bottom of his ginormous club down onto the dungeon floor, leaning on it, raising an eyebrow at you. “Or do you only familiarize yourself with crystals and orc cock?” 

“Shut up!” You held onto the barbarian’s insult, rather than hearing him out. “You’re just saying that because you want the treasure for yourself!” You got on your knees in front of the chest, muttering, “Selfish prick.” 

“What’d you say?!” San barked, his hand squeezing around the thick handle of his weapon. 

Mingi slung an arm around San’s tense shoulders, smiling as though he was quite pleased with himself. “She’s got a mouth on her, huh?” He met San’s grimace with a shoulder squeeze. “Don’t worry, Sannie. She’s gonna learn the hard way.” 

Yunho walked up beside Seonghwa, lowering himself down to sit on the cool stone ground with a thud, wiping a bit of perspiration that had formed on his forehead. “I’ve been feeling weird since we left the slime room, Hwa. Can you cast a healing spell?” 

“Yeah, me too, now that you mention it,” Mingi called out, rubbing his sweat-covered neck with his free hand, encouraging San to open his own black furry coat, revealing an expanse of sweaty, tan, tattooed skin underneath it. 

Seonghwa nodded his head in agreement, waving his hand around in front of him, manifesting a large glowing violet pentagram into existence, which eventually disappeared after the spell had be casted completely, a faint glow still visible around the edges of your bodies. 

“Mm, I don’t really feel any different…” Mingi mumbled, his hot-blooded body even more tingly than before, starting to feel like he could fuck someone into oblivion right at that moment, even more than usual. 

Once you had opened up the chest, ignoring the subsequent pounding inside your chest and cunt, you were met by a multitude of shiny, gold coins just waiting for you to take. “Holy shit, I’m rich!” 

“You better split that with us, before I split you in half with my cock, stupid elf!” San griped from where he stood, now a bit hunched over, his words slightly slurred, not even fully realizing what he was saying. 

“Wh-what?!” you squeaked, your ears bright red, turning your head to look at the barbarian in disbelief, not even noticing when the chest in front of you began to sprout limbs, a long, slimy tongue slipping out past the gold. 

“I said, I’ll split you open–” San fully dropped his club, which resulted in a resounding thud inside the small room. He pointed an accusatory finger in your direction, blinking at you through his hazy vision, using his other hand to grab at himself through his furry kilt. “–with my big, barbarian cock!” 

Yunho pointed at you as well, wanting you to notice the big monster that was about to have its way with you. “Um, Y/N, you should…” 

“Not now, Yunho, I have to tell this idiot barbarian to suck my clit!” you informed angrily, holding your middle finger up at San, which he returned enthusiastically. 

“Oh, yeah? Then, get your fucking ass over here and sit on my face, you elf slut,” San barked back, sticking his tongue out at you, still holding onto Mingi, appearing drunker by the second — though it wasn’t alcohol running rampant through his body. It was lust. The rest of them were feeling it too. 

“Slut? I’ll show you slut,” you grumbled, about to stand up and give San a piece of your mind, your fist, and possibly your body when the mimic suddenly snatched you up with its long limbs and pinned you to the floor. “Oh my god, what’s happening? What the fuck is that?!” 

San simply chuckled, leaning his back against the cold concrete wall of the small room, trying to cool his intensely heated body down. “That’s a mimic, dummy. I’m sure you can handle it though, since you’re so tough.” 

Mingi looked to his friends, biting at his lip, noticing that none of them even attempted to assist you, more concerned with finding out what the monster was about to do to you. Even Yunho, who was the only one with any semblance of a conscience out of the entire party, somehow couldn’t bring himself to get up, instead answering to the oversized tent that was forming underneath his pelt. 

The mimic pinned your wrists together above your head with one strong hand, using the other to lift one of your legs up into the air, breathing harshly as it studied your slick cunt through your tiny lace panties, eventually licking a long stripe up your body, from your pussy up to your chest, leaving your white garments completely soaked and see-through. 

Trying desperately to free your hands from the monster’s unwavering grip, unable to prevent more slick from leaking out of you with your legs being held open, you angled your head back to look at the upside-down versions of your party, crying out, “Are you fuckers just going to sit there and watch?!” 

“Yeah…we are, sweetheart,” Mingi sighed out, still leaning on San, a few drops of sweat cascading down his flushed face. He dragged his tongue across his teeth, breathing in the flowery scent of your arousal, inhaling so deeply his bull ring shifted slightly. “I’m sure you got it handled. Just tire it out with that wet fucking cunt of yours, will ya?” 

A strong wave of pleasure pulsed through your body at Mingi’s response, looking to each of the members, realizing that they were really just going to observe as you got pleasured by the monster, getting more aroused by the second. What was wrong with you? You would’ve contemplated it more, but any thoughts you had would completely fizzle out once the mimic’s tongue came in contact with your cunt, licking you up and down in a rapid, desperate fashion. Its tongue was so heavy and hot against your pulsing cunt, you couldn’t help but cum within a few minutes, your body going limp. “Fuuuck, oh my god…” 

“Came nice and hard, didn’t you?” Mingi continued to share his filthy words with you and his party, all five of you reacting positively to it. “I can fucking smell it, princess…” His smile twisted into a faux pout, his voice dripping with lust. “That tongue isn’t enough for you though, is it? Mm-mm, not nearly enough. You need cock stuffed inside your tight elven pussy, don’t you, darlin’?”

All you could do was let out a long pathetic whine, your flushed, fucked-our face giving Mingi and the boys the answer they needed. Now that you weren’t fighting back, the mimic lifted your lower half up into the air, positioning you so that its tongue could slither inside you, pistoning it in and out of your willing hole, your upper half hanging upside down, your tits bouncing with each of the mimic’s thrusts of its wet appendage, your writhing body on display for your party members’ viewing pleasure. “I’m…going to…kill you all…for watching…” you huffed out in between moans, drool slipping out past your parted lips. 

Mingi turned his head to share looks with his friends, all of them now dealing with the same almost painful predicament. “Are you all as hard as I am…?” When they nodded, he felt a little less guilty, reaching down to rub at his leaking cock through his kilt, able to feel how stiff it was even through the thick material. He gazed down at you, biting at his bottom lip, holding onto the thick leather of his body harness, trying not to blow his load too quickly. “It feels good, doesn’t it, princess? I can hear how just how sloppy that mess of a cunt is…Do you like the way it’s fucking you senseless with its tongue? Is it filling you up just right?” 

You couldn’t believe just how turned on you were in the moment, hardly about to breathe in between your bouts of pleasure, your body beginning to sieze up when the mimic shoved its tongue as deep as it could go, causing a prominent bulge to form inside your lower stomach. “S-so good, Min, gonna cum again…” 

“Cum for us, baby, that’s it…” Mingi sighed, leaning his shoulder against San’s, noticing how he began to play with his cock through his kilt, doing his friend a solid and reaching over to stroke the base of it for him. 

Groaning underneath his breath, San reached over to help Mingi out as well, the both of them hyperfixated on the way the mimic drank up your juices as though it needed it to live. Seonghwa and Yunho were in a similar position, but instead of answering to their aching cocks, they simply watched on, the visual stimulation clearly enough for them. 

The mimic lifted your limp body upwards so that you were on your knees, with its large, agile tongue fitted in between your trembling thighs, grabbing you by the waist so that it could drag you back and forth along its long, slimy appendage. “Just like that, oh my god, it’s so–fuck–” you gasped, barely able to look at the men that were huddled around you, the new position not allowing you to hide away from their hungry gazes, your body on full display for them. 

With his hand now fully hidden underneath San’s kilt, Mingi nodded his head at you in approval. “That’s my naughty little elf girl,” he praised you in a gravelly voice, groaning at the sensation of San tugging at his dripping cock from underneath his own pelt. “Let me see you cum one more time for us, princess. Can you do that?” 

“Yes, Mingiii, I’ll cum for you,” you whined obediently, reaching down your shiny, wet body to rub your clit around through your thin, soaked panties, unable to keep your mouth closed anymore from how hard you were breathing. 

“What a good listener you are, baby. Look at you playing with your tiny little clit without me having to ask. Such a good elf girl you are,” Mingi continued to praise you, knowing exactly what made you tick, his hand squeezing around San’s throbbing length. 

San let out a higher pitched moan, his body beginning to tremble against Mingi’s. “I can’t believe you–unnh–managed to tame her so easily…” 

“It wasn’t hard, Sannie…fuck– She may be a brat, but she’s a good girl at heart…” Mingi was beginning to fall apart as well, San’s calloused hand continually rubbing along his cock enhancing the pleasure of watching you willingly playing with yourself while you rode a monster’s tongue, his party’s presence filling him with even more warmth. “Cum for us, sweetheart, show us how pretty you are when you fall apart…” 

Mingi’s praise-filled request mixed with the sensation of your puffy clit grinding along the mimic’s slick tongue sent you barreling over the edge, cumming so hard, you saw stars, barely able to grasp at the dagger that still sat inside its holster.

Meanwhile, San and Mingi both began to groan and shudder against the cool dungeon wall, shooting their hot loads onto each other’s hands and the insides of their pelts. Seonghwa and Yunho both coated their own undergarments with white, biting into their bottom lips so hard they just about broke the skin.

They were all so deep in their wells of ecstasy that they hardly even noticed when you let out a war cry and stabbed the mimic with your long dagger, rendering it dead, causing it to fade away in a flurry of sparkly, white dust, leaving a few gold pieces for you to take. 

“I told you I could fucking take care of myself,” you grimaced, shoving your items into a small pouch you had hanging from your upper thigh.

Once the post-nut clarity set in, Mingi cleared his dry throat, scratching at his prickly chin. “I mean, you did defeat the mimic on your own, so credit is due when credit is due, princess. You just used your pussy to combat it…which is just as valid as using a real weapon, don’t get me wrong–”

“Shut it!” you simply yelled, your face so hot, it probably rivaled the surface of the sun, stomping past the recovering men and pushing the next door open once it unlocked itself, wasting no time to enter the last floor of the dungeon where the supposed lujuria plant was said to grow. 

“Let’s go help her out with that plant. And remember, whatever happens, happens. Just know I’m not fucking any of you.” Mingi patted San’s shoulder, looking over to the other members of his party with a playful smile.

San smacked Mingi’s back playfully, which Mingi returned. “Let’s put that elf brat in her place.”

Mingi nodded. “Yeah, on my cock where she belongs.”

Seonghwa scoffed from beside them. “Could you be anymore crass?”

Yunho patted Mingi’s and Seonghwa’s shoulders, practically dislocating them, smiling goofily, his cheeks and face flush from the energy he exerted.  “What happens in the dungeon, stays in the dungeon, boys.”

Seonghwa quietly nodded his head in agreement, until he murmured softly, “Indeed.” 

࿏࿏࿏

“Where are you, you stupid fucking plant?” you called out inside the vast, foliage-covered room, swiping at the overgrown leaves and plants that were in your way, almost tripping over a few vines that grew in and out of the broken-up cobblestone floor below your feet. 

The rest of your party followed your lead, Mingi and Yunho taking the initiative to cut down the thicker plants and foliage that stood in your way with their axes, almost completely out of breath when you finally came across a large pink plant growing in the middle of the room. 

“I’m assuming that’s it,” you said mostly to yourself, slowly walking up to the plant, impressed by its intricate petals and inviting flowery scent. “It’s not as scary as I thought it’d be. It’s almost…pretty…” 

Just as you reached out to touch it, Seonghwa opened his mouth to warn, “Wait, don’t–”

As soon as your slender fingers came in contact with one of the flower petals, the plant sent out a puff of dusty pink pollen directly into your face and the air around your party, before folding in on itself and growing comically large spikes to protect its core which contained the golden glowing seeds you needed to complete your quest. 

You began choking and coughing along with the others, reaching out blindly through the thick pollen, finding solace in Seonghwa’s arms, who began reciting a spell to lessen the effects of the plant’s attempt at self defense, but it was too late. Mind-altering desire had already set in. “Can’t breathe…can’t think…” you whispered, grabbing at Seonghwa’s chest, unbuckling his top and revealing his smooth, marble skin, henna-like tattoos decorating his jewelry-adorned collar bone. 

Seonghwa clutched your shoulders, breathing just as profusely as you were, murmuring, “Don’t think, then, silly elf,” before pressing his mouth onto yours with haste, his long, snake-like tongue slipping inside your mouth to explore it.

Strong, solid hands grabbed at your hips from behind, Mingi pulling them back so that he could grind his cock into your ass, his lips already ghosting along your neck. His deep, gravelly voice made you let out a weak moan into Seonghwa’s mouth when he sighed, “Gonna fill your cunt full of my cum, sweetheart. So fucking full.” 

“Then, I get to fill her slutty elf cunt with my tongue first,” San interrupted, already on his knees, positioning himself in between you and Seonghwa, not hesitating to tear your skirt and panties apart to access your rapidly dripping cunt. “So pink, so pretty…” He attached his drooling mouth onto your clit, sucking so roughly, your knees almost buckled underneath you, about to completely collapse when he plugged your hole up with his hot tongue. 

Seonghwa pulled away slightly, finally letting you breathe without having his tongue down your throat, instead completely shredding  the front of your dress with his talons, just in time for Mingi to groan and cup your tits, squeezing and moving them around, saliva leaking past his plump lips. “I always know exactly what your idiotic orc brain is thinking,” he sighed at Mingi, bringing his own hands up to tweak and pinch at your nipples, making you cry out. 

“Oh, yeah? Can you read my mind right now, Hwa? Can you tell that I’m about to stretch this elf’s little fuckhole wide open with my fat fuckin’ cock?” he said near your twitching, elongated ear, his hard length slipping in between your thighs to rub along the underside of your cunt, his dark eyes settled on Seonghwa’s before returning to your slick body, their hands moving in tandem to play with your tits, each getting a chance to squeeze your squishy flesh and tease your increasingly puffy nipples. 

Yunho, who was hard beyond measure and feeling a little left out, walked up to the side of you and reached down to show off his enormous cock, the slick , oversized tip an angry shade of red. He pouted down at you, letting out a small whimper. “Can you please help me out, sweet? I’m so hard, it hurts…” 

Unable to resist his puppy-dog eyes, you nodded, licking your lips, collecting his vast amounts of pre-cum at the rounded tip with your fingers, eventually using it to slick up the rest of his cock, doing your best to jerk him off with your small hands. “Does that feel good, Yunho?” 

“So good, doll,” he gasped, leaning his head back, not registering when he began to thrust his hips forward into your hands, using them like a fleshlight. 

You’re so big, Yunho, fuck– I can hardly wrap my hands around it…” you sighed out, opening your mouth to lick at the tip of his cock each time he thrusted into your hands. Your mind went blank, until you suddenly remembered that San was in between your squeezing thighs, devouring your cunt like it was his last meal, his tongue and lips wreaking havoc on your clit, his thick fingers shoved inside your pulsing hole.

“Like the way I’m eating this cunt of yours, eh, elf girl?” San mumbled in between slurps, gulping your juices down, a few dribbles of it cascading down his veined throat. “You don’t even need to answer, love. I can tell you do just from the way you’re fuckin’ squeezin’ my fingers.” San groaned deeply, watching the way you dripped for him as he continually went knuckles-deep inside you, biting his bottom lip, growling, “Cum for me. Cum all over my face, you brat. Fuckin’ do it.”

You unraveled almost instantaneously, getting your creaminess sucked off of your slit by the desperate barbarian, not even noticing that he had been jerking himself off so roughly, he had already made himself cum before you did. 

“Goddamn it, since when did high elf squirt taste so fuckin’ good?” San mumbled drunkenly to himself, licking at his swollen lips, prior to sucking your cum from his fingers noisily.

“You’ve had your fun, Sannie boy. It’s time for this little elf girl to experience the pleasure of getting broken in by real men. Hwa, you know what to do,” Mingi announced hastily, already bringing you down to the floor so that you were about to slowly take the half-orc’s cock in your cunt from behind, Seonghwa supporting your front, the tip of his tail already brushing back and forth over your swollen clit, rubbing his large, ridged cockhead on your puffy lips to slick them up with his pre-cum, his own plump lips moving at a quick pace, expertly reciting an incantation that would allow you to physically take two obscenely large cocks at once, all well as increasing your natural lubricant and allowing you access to heightened physical sensations.

“Fuck, look at you…What a good little elf girl you are, taking us both inside you like this,” Mingi sighed into your ear, reaching around your body to lazily rub your wetness into your sensitive clit. “Almost like you were made to take monster cock, huh? Not made for little elven peckers, it seems.” He pressed his hand into your lower abdomen, able to feel the pronounced outline of his friend’s abnormally large length. “Mm, that’s right. You loved being stuffed full of monster cock, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Love it, Min, so much,” you choked out, your mind going positively blank, the only thing on your mind being the insanely pleasurable stretch you felt inside your core, knowing you were quite literally filled to the brim. “Feels so good, I can’t think.”

“Why think when you can just feel good, princess?” he chuckled, rubbing your tummy in an up and down motion, feeling the outline of Seonghwa’s thick, ridged length with his calloused fingers, shuddering from the sensation of their slippery cocks rubbing along one another inside your tight, slick walls . He nuzzled your neck and the side of your face with his prickly cheek, whispering onto your skin, “M’ so proud of you, sweetheart. I broke you in before and now here you are, taking big tielfing cock in your pussy while an orc’s stuffing you just as full. What a pretty sight you are. Wish I could take a picture.”

“Oh my god, Mingi, please, it’s so–” you could hardly verbalize, your eyes just about rolling into your skull, your body pulsing with so much pleasure, you could barely keep up with what was happening around you.

Mingi routinely filled your elongated ears with more filthy words, Seonghwa gazing deeply at you, your willing hole continuing to clench around their thrusting cocks, getting stretched so pleasurably, you almost passed out from that sensation alone.

All the while, San positioned himself in from of your tits, squeezing them together and driving his cock back and forth between them, grunting and groaning each time.

Yunho gently grabbed your chin, coaxing your mouth open as wide as it would go, whispering, “That’s it, my sweet, just a little wider…” He began to feed you his cock, stuffing your mouth full and instinctively fucking your throat, your jaw already beginning to ache from the obscene girth. “You’re so tiny…can barely take it…huh?” Moaning breathily, Yunho eventually settled for fucking the inside of your gummy cheek, afraid that he would suffocate you if he continued to throat fuck you.

It seemed that this quartet had been in this exact position before. That was clear to you now. You couldn't have been more wet and willing if you tried. Getting used by two filthy men while two more watched and desperately tried to get off using your body in any way they could filled you with a sense of purpose you didn’t realize you had always sought after. 

“You want our cum in your pretty elf cunt, princess?” Mingi huffed, in between harsh, deliberate thrusts, his hands cemented on the reappearing bulge in your stomach. “Huh? You want us to make a mess of you, aye? Want to be fucked so full of our seed, you’ll give us pretty elven offspring?” 

Once Yunho freed your saliva-streaked mouth from his suffocating length and resorted to jerking himself off, you were able to reply in a fucked-out, slurred voice, “Yeah–yeah–yeah– fill me up, wan’ it all. All your cum, in me, on me, I need it, pleaseee.” 

Your willing party members’ highs all crescendoed in succession, Mingi resorting to sloppy, rough thrusts inside your tight hole until he spilled most of his load into you, his cum splashing onto Seonghwa’s cock, dripping along their lengths to form a milky rim. “Oh, fuck, that’s it…but I’m not done yet, princess…I gotta–nngh–leave my mark on my favorite elf…” He slowly pulled out with lewd pop, coaxing a few more cum shots out of his cock with a large, closed fist, watching the large milky droplets slide along your smooth skin and torn sections of your dress onto the curve of your exposed ass, his eyes creasing with clear adoration. “That’s more like it…”

“W-was that necessary…?” you murmured, trying not to cum just from the sensation of getting stuffed full of cum, sensing that Seonghwa was next in line to come undone inside you.

“Oh, my gods, I…see heaven,” Seonghwa gasped sharply, the whites of his boundless eyes glowing brightly, his lips parting to allow a shaky moan to escape. Seonghwa gripped your hips so tightly, he was bound to leave handprints, relying on slow, deliberate strokes, using your contracting cunt to milk the cum from his cock, unable to resist leaving a few drops on your clit and mound when he pulled out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum all over these tits, you little elven slut, take itttt,” San gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening, only having to pump himself between your slick, pre-cum covered tits once more before he was able to leave thick spurts of white all over the bottom of your heated face and lips, leaving most of his load on your messy tits.

“O-oh, godddd…!” Yunho came last, and the most, closing his hands around his reddened tip, whining profusely, unable to keep himself from completely unloading all over your pretty face and hair, practically drenching you in his cum. 

Mingi reached down to cup your chin, tilting your head back so that he could get a good look at you, admiring the way their collective seed dripped off and out of you, swearing he could shed a tear from such a beautiful sight. “Look at you. My pretty princess.”

You gently nuzzled his large hand, smiling contentedly, tasting the salt of someone’s load on your lips when you licked at them. “Your pretty princess…” 

It took a while for all of you to come down and catch your breath, the effects of the pollen still practically running through your veins, but you managed to wobble your way over to the main plant and slowly pull your trusty dagger out of its holder, slashing the plant until its precious seeds dropped into your open palm. You looked down at the golden, glowing seeds, your fingers still splattered with milky liquid, reminding you of the trials you conquered to get to your ultimate goal. As you wiped your sticky face with your sleeve, you looked around at your panting, much more docile party members, wondering if it was all worth it. 

Mingi brushed some of his sweaty hair out of his eyes, noticing the way you were looking up at him, sending a cocky smile your way. “So, you’re 200 gold pieces richer, princess. How does it feel?” 

“Huh?” you questioned immediately, your fingers closing around the pouch that contained the precious lujuria seeds. “It was 1000 gold pieces. Did fucking me stupid render you stupid instead?” 

“I’m sorry, darlin’, but with each party member fee, it rounds out at 200 a person,” he corrected you, bringing you in to give you a gentle hug and a pat on the ass, chuckling delightedly to himself, his friends joining in on the amusement. “That’s still quite a bit. You can buy yourself a pretty new dress since yours is all torn and drenched in our cum, ya’ know?” He leaned his head in your direction, twiddling his large thumbs, his smile growing more lewd. "That means I can have the one you're wearing right now, yeah?"

You grimaced, your blood boiling over, already stomping your way out of the last dungeon floor, your voice still growing louder and louder the further you walked away, swearing to yourself, “This is the last time I do anything with you, Mingi! Never again. Never! EVER!” 

Mingi simply waved off at his friend’s questioning gazes, holding the seeds that you had taken from the plant inside his own hand, admiring their shimmering edges. “Don’t worry. She always comes back.” 

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

#february filth fest #cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #wonderlandnet #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez mingi #yunho ateez #ateez seonghwa #choi san #san smut #mingi smut #yunho smut #seonghwa smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #kpop smut

[high-supernatural]

The Beach

Kai Parker x Female Reader

Request: Sex on a beach, kind of rough yet soft.

Word Count: 2496

Warnings: Smuuuuut, lots of smut, dom!kai, mild hands tied

The MF friend group invited Kai and his best friend to stay at one of their family’s beach houses for the weekend as what they called a peace offering. They weren’t very friendly or welcoming of Kai from the moment they all met him, no matter how hard he tried to make things right with them. Kai’s best friend guilted them into feeling bad about rejecting him as he was trying to improve himself, so they decided to invite them both to their beach weekend to test how true it was and make peace from it.

All of the MF friends had their rooms picked out since they were kids. Kai, his best girl friend, and the Salvatore brothers were the only new ones without signature rooms to sleep in, so they all bunked in the old kids’ room that still had two sets of bunk beds.

“Great, agree to a beach weekend, get to bunk with a sociopath and his sidekick, and sleep in beds made for 12-year old’s… ‘oh sure, Damon, come to the beach it’ll be fuuuun,’ can’t see how this could go terribly wrong,” Damon ranted on about how unhappy he was with the arrangements.

Kai announced that he’d be taking the top bunk above his best friend, but that didn’t really matter because they both knew they’d end up in the same bed anyways. They did everything together, and that included both sleeping and causing immense sexual tension they were both too nervous to address with each other.

She tried to sleep in the bottom bunk alone but couldn’t fall asleep. Kai peaked his head from above to see if she was awake and found her with her eyes closed, so he poked her until she opened them.

“What,” she asked with scrunched brows.

“Come sleep with me,” he whined and dangled his hand over the railing with a strand of her hair attached.

She didn’t have to be begged, she immediately got out of her bed and climbed onto his, laying her head on his chest and played with his rings until they both fell asleep.

They both woke the next morning to a loud, dramatic exclamation of “oh, gross” coming from Damon seeing them together.

She rolled onto her back and rubbed her eyes with one hand, “oh don’t be jealous just because you can’t get any, Damon,” she teased resulting in a fake gag in response.

Everyone got ready for the beach before breakfast.

She stood in a large two-sink bathroom after putting on a red bikini top and black shorts and started brushing her hair.

Kai walked in wearing shorts and a t-shirt, “that’s what you’re wearing to the beach?” she asked.

“Have you seen any ocean documentary on National Geographic? I’m not going in that water,” Kai joked and stood behind her, grabbing the brush from her hand to brush her hair for her.

When he was done, he placed the brush on the counter and went to attempt a ponytail again even though he has never succeeded at making a good one.

“You’d be better off putting sunscreen on me than trying to do my hair again,” she said as a joke even though she was serious.

Kai rolled his eyes, but he knew he couldn’t do hair anyways, so he reached onto the counter for the sunscreen and put some in his hands to rub on her back and arms as they fought with each other while she simultaneously tried to put her hair up.

Kai closed the sunscreen bottle, forgetting about her front side and her legs and started to walk out, “you missed a spot,” she spoke before he could turn around.

“You can get the rest, can’t you? You’re capable.”

She rolled her eyes and handed him the sunscreen bottle again. He started rubbing lotion on her stomach from behind, looking at her in the mirror until his movements got slower and he seemed lost in thought.

“What’r you thinking about?” she asked.

“Oh, you know…” the attention came back to Kai’s eyes as he looked up to meet her gaze in the mirror, “just about all the mixed signals you give me,” he trailed one of his hands up her torso to her neck and wrapped his hand around it, leaning in to whisper in her ear while not taking his eyes off hers.

“About how one day we’re besties and the next you want my hands all over you…”

She didn’t pull away. They both knew they wanted this, but neither of them would say anything until now.

Kai moved his other hand to the waist of her shorts as he did a once over with his eyes at her in the mirror before returning his gaze back to hers, “so which one is it today,” he asked in a dark tone.

She was at a loss for words. They’ve been intimate together in ways such as seeing each other naked after one got out of the shower or making out because they were bored, but they’ve never been this straightforwardly intimate.

After her silence, Kai trailed the hand he placed on her waistband to cup one of her breasts and tightened the grip around her throat, “is this what you want?” he asked harshly, “you want my hands all over you?”

Her breath hitched as she tried to breath to say something. Kai moved his hand from her breast and slipped it under her shorts, removing the hand around her throat to replace the one that left her chest.

He massaged her breasts roughly, nibbling on her neck as he rubbed soft circles over her clothed core, resulting in soft moans disguised as breaths.

“Just say the words,” Kai said before he shifted his attention to the other side of her neck, “do you like my hands all over you?”

“Yes,” she whispered softly before Kai removed himself from touching her, “that’s too bad,” he whispered and kissed her on the cheek before leaving and announcing from the other room, “we’re heading down in 10, hurry and get ready.”

She stood dumbfounded and clumsily finished getting ready.

When they got to the beach, they all set up their own tents to lay in. Her and Kai were the only ones not wanting to get in the water, so they laid in the sand while the others walked around elsewhere.

She fell asleep laying on her towel in the sand with her shorts unbuttoned and sunhat over her face. Kai couldn’t help but stare at her almost the whole time thinking about how it felt to touch her that morning.

When he couldn’t refrain from it anymore, he took the hat from off her face and woke her up.

“You forgot to put sunscreen on your legs,” he excused.

“Ok, so?” she barked.

He toyed with the string on the front of her bikini top that was keeping it from falling off, “so… you should get in the tent and let me put sunscreen on your legs…” he said nervously.

“Oh, ‘put sunscreen on me’, huh?” she air quoted him and pretended to be annoyed before crawling into the tent anyways.

Kai got in behind her and zipped it up behind him.

She sat with her legs crisscrossed and opened a bag of candy while she looked at her phone. The only thing he could think about was untying the top that was barely hiding anything and how gorgeous her hair looked in her messy ponytail, he always loved her hair.

He sat on his knees in front of her and rubbed both his hands up either side of the inner parts of her thighs.

She looked up from her phone and put a piece of candy in her mouth, “I didn’t hear you get any sunscreen, kid,” she teased.

Kai moved her phone and the bag behind him and brought his face close to hers, moving his hands farther up her thighs, “we both know I didn’t wake you up because of sunscreen.”

He closed the gap between their lips and pulled the string that held her bikini together in the front, exposing her breasts before he pulled away from her face to watch himself toy with one of her nipples.

“Who wants their hands all over who now, huh?” she teased again.

Kai grabbed her bikini top and both of her wrists and began to tie them together, “not me,” he smirked.

He moved his hand under her knee to uncross her legs so he could sit between them as he laid her down and she reached to place her tied up hands on his waistband, “too bad I can still touch you then,” she continued to tease.

He put one hand back to her throat as the other met underneath her shorts again, “I can make that change,” he spoke harsh again.

“Yeah, how you gonna do that?” she breathed out.

He snuck two fingers underneath the fabric she was wearing to feel her bare core, “by making you feel so many things you forget you even have hands,” he responded ominously before removing his hands to pull all the fabric she was wearing off of her legs and pushed them open.

He held one of her knees firmly to his side so she was fully open to him and began to tease her by rubbing her core so soft that she could barely notice, but she felt every graze.

He inserted two fingers into her and wasted no time curling and pumping them in and out, “I’ve always wondered how good you taste,” he bit at her thigh and started pumping at an incomprehensible speed.

She choked on her own moans because of how sudden the pace was and tried to stifle them by covering her mouth with her hands to which she was met with Kai pulling her arms back down to lay in front of her torso, “I want to see your face dying with discomfort because you know you can’t make a sound…” he watched her face scrunch as she stifled her moans, “I want to watch your chest bounce while your arms push them together…”

He continued pumping at this speed as he leaned to bite at her neck, “but don’t worry, if you can’t be quiet, I’ll just put something in your mouth to make you quiet,” he whispered.

He trailed his mouth down to her core, leaving bites and hickeys on the way before roughly sucking and flicking her soft spot with his tongue. He noticed when she tried to cover her mouth again and quickly grabbed her ties to hold her arms in place.

She pulled at his hair and moved her hips around in attempt to be quiet. He noticed when she was getting close and made sure to hold her wrists tighter as she threw her head back and was barely able to quiet her orgasm.

Kai kept sucking, causing her to close her thighs around him as he kept pushing and holding them back open until she was about to reach her second orgasm. Right before she was on the edge, he pulled away and replaced his mouth with his thumb to watch her face as he wrapped his hand around her throat again.

“I want to watch your face struggle to breath and quiet yourself at the same time,” he teased and watched intently as her face turned red from the lack of circulation. Before she almost passed out, she reached the edge and Kai removed his hand from her throat at the exact moment, causing her to moan loudly as she felt an intense sudden release all over her body and gasped for air.

She didn’t care this time, she needed to let it out.

Kai grabbed a bunch of her hair and pulled her to sit on her knees by it, “you better hope nobody heard that,” he unbuttoned his shorts, “you’ll never hear the end of what a sleaze you are,” he whispered and sat on his knees to kiss her by pulling her face up by her hair and grabbed her hands to touch his stomach.

She trailed her hands down his stomach until they almost reached his member before he forcefully pulled her face from his and pushed her mouth down to put her lips around it.

He sat back on his knees with one arm propping him up and ordered for her to put her ass in the air while she sucked.

Kai didn’t care if anyone heard him, he moaned like they were the only ones on the beach and grabbed a fistful of her hair again to move her head at a speed he liked.

“Oh my god--- how do you feel so good,” he groaned and twitched, “I bet your pussy feels a whole lot better,” he whispered and continued to fuck her face.

He started to twitch more, and his movements got more shaky, “I want to fill you up from both ends like the slut you are,” he spoke roughly before finishing in her mouth and pulling her head up to look at her sweaty, teary face.

He pulled himself up to move behind her where she had her ass up like he told her to do and spread her legs farther apart, pushing her back down to arch it before inserting himself into her.

He pulled her up by the back of her arms so his chest was against her back and snaked a hand around to her throat, using the other to pull her hair back onto his shoulder as he made slow but deep thrusts, hitting her spot each time as she struggled to breath.

“If I would have known you’d feel this good I would have taken advantage of this a long time ago,” he whispered in her ear, “I don’t know how you’re so perfect in every way… your pussy is the best thing I’ve ever felt…”

He moved his hand from her throat to rub circles around her clit as he thrusted faster.

She couldn’t contain her moans, so he shoved the bottoms of her bikini into her mouth and moved her face to lay at the bottom of the tent with her ass up as she unsuccessfully stifled moans of both pain and pleasure until they both finished again.

He finished with deep thrusts until they both collapsed and laid next to each other trying to catch their breath as she set herself free.

Kai sat up just enough to turn her face to his, “I don’t want anyone else to be able to have that except me,” he spoke.

“Well, you’re just full of wants today, aren’t you?” she breathed.

“Promise me,” he whined.

“What am I, your girlfriend or something?”

“Please,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes, “I promise.”

#kai parker #kai parker smut #kai parker imagine #kai parker fanfic #kai parker x reader #kai parker x you #tvd #the vampire diaries #malachai parker

[ahtsumu]

dad!miya atsumu hc dump

thank u @mooshys​ for the bants & ideas 🥰

+ oh my god he definitely wanted to name your kid after a superhero or something like tony stark miya 😭😭😭 louis thirteen miya

+ used to be a total mess–– never knew how to do laundry, went clubbing all the time, spent hours playing video games–– and then when your lil bub came along he cleaned up his act!! started wearing a watch, learned what every ingredient in baby formula does, attended every parenting class possible. now he’s always holding onto lil baby miya 🥺😭

+ at first he’s so scared of doing things wrong. this man will literally watch youtube tutorials and practice changing diapers on dolls to get it right. holds your baby like it’s made of glass. won’t even let others touch the lil munchkin until it’s at least six months old, and even then his eyes never once leave them.

but once your baby hits the 8 month mark he puts 'em in the hood of his yellow ferrari and takes a picture, captions it “ferraris can be family cars if you try hard enough” PLEASE

+ atsumu will beg you for a big family. he’ll get you anything you want because one kid is not enough he wants an army!! 😳

omf and he’s trying to be so slick about it too LMFAO HE’S LIKE “c’mon the process is pretty fun isn’t it 😏😏😏”

but he’s so protective and caring during your pregnancy (he is when you’re not pregnant either but it just intensifies) and he’ll get you anything you want ugh

he always has to talk to your belly before going to bed 😭 and he always has a hand around your waist, both bc he wants to keep you safe but also because he wants the lil bean in ur tummy to know it’s loved 💖💖

+ he’s such a physical dad LMAO he’s always horsing around and roughhousing with the kids

when they’re toddlers he loves dangling them upside down (very briefly and only if they ask for it!!), throwing them up and catching them, spinning them around

imagine your lil baby miya giggling and laughing until they get too tired and just... snuggle into atsumu’s arms and chest

and when they’re bigger kids he play-wrestles with them, has tickle fights, chases them around the house, lets them win arm-wrestling competitions 🥰🥰🥰

+ your house will never be quiet ever again. some common noises: 

laughter and happy shrieks

your kids arguing and your husband yelling “BE QUIET” to your kids and failing LMFAOOO

things blowing up on the television

disney songs

bad singing in the shower

atsumu and the kids making a mess in the kitchen

+ usually you drive the kids to school but one morning you’re busy with family stuff or an early meeting for work and now it’s atsumu who has to drive and his car is not built for that LMAOO like imagine a yellow lambo pulling up at a mf elementary school 😂

and bc you’re not home and atsumu’s the free-range parent, your kiddos are like... “dad i don’t wanna go to school” and atsumu is freaking out bc holy shit he’s gonna be late and he has a press conference and a game later and you’re gonna kill him if your kids are late to school

he seriously considers just taking them to the press conference instead LMFAOO maybe when they’re older!! he has to ask u first (and then them) and he already has a plan for the pitch at dinner

just imagine atsumu dropping your kids off at school in his yellow ferrari while wearing an armani suit

and he kisses their foreheads and has to see them walk through the school doors before driving off 😭

+ atsumu is that annoying dad at every sports competition who screams and yells and gets wayyyy too into it LMFAO imagine your kid getting injured because some snot-faced brat runs into them omg atsumu is livid!!!!

+ he coordinates all the playdates between your kids and osamu’s kids. any kids from the inarizaki vbc or the msby team members have also been over to your place ugh he just loves it when it’s full of noise and fun times

#miya atsumu #miya atsumu headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagines #miya atsumu scenarios

[getitinbusan]

Strawberry Lemonade

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+

Even if you could decide, why would you want to? Both men were perfect in extremely different ways yet, your longing for both of them was beginning to feel greedy.

Pairing: Reader x Tae x Jungkook

Words: 3850

Warnings: 18+ threesome, MF vaginal sex, MF anal sex, MF oral sex, unprotected sex, swearing.

You weren't technically staff, it was a loophole that benefited everyone. While the crew stayed in coach, you were up front with Jungkook as he helped stash your camera equipment into the first class overhead. In 7 hours you'd be in Bali for a week in paradise.

"Y/N's sitting with me, she already promised." Taehyung pulled your hand towards the middle aisle.

Pouting, Jungkook popped his air pods in and took his seat.

It was a competition, pure and simple. Like a new shiny toy Jungkook and Taehyung both wanted you. Everyone knew and the game of one upmanship was getting a little out of control. But somehow, caught in the middle wasn't such a bad place to be.

Dim and quiet most of the plane was already asleep. Taehyung snored softly as you wiggled out from underneath his heavy grasp. You didn't want to disturb him but the days makeup needed to come off before you settled in for the night.

Taken by surprise, Jungkook stood with a smile waiting outside when you opened the bathroom door.

"I think we need to talk about something." He guided you back into the tiny room.

"What's that Kookie?"

His lips parted before he quickly pressed them onto yours. His hands were still holding your face as he broke away.

"I see the way you look at me and I think you want me just as much as I want you."

You loved being playful with Jungkook, teasing him was definitely a turn on.

"I'm keeping my options open." You wanted to sound taunting, but your hand slowly dragging down his chest let him know he was going to get whatever he was after.

His mouth moved over your neck as his fingers worked their way under your light t-shirt. His thumbs caressing the soft flesh just above the elastic of your waistband sent a gush of excitement to your panties.

"I want you so badly."

Pulling your pants to the floor he lifted you onto the small counter.

His finger slid into you easily.

"Does Taehyung get you this wet?"

"He's never tried. Should I let him?"

"I'm not afraid of a little competition Y/N."

His track pants came down with a quick tug and his hard cock sprang out. Stepping back towards you for a heated kiss his erection pressed against your sopping center. His length was more than you'd expected and you couldn't stand the anticipation any longer.

"Do you know how hard it's been to work with you for weeks and not get to touch you?"

Grasping his cock he held it straight to line himself up with your entrance.

"Uh huh," he nodded. "I've had to keep requesting baggy clothes to hide my chronic hard on."

He pushed himself into you letting out a long slow moan as his head fell back. Leaning into the mirror you pulled him in closer wrapping your legs around his hips.

Knees bent, he adjusted his height to pump himself into you. It wasn't sweet or slow, it was a mile high, hard quickie that had been a long time in the making.

Helping you down he wrapped you in his arms and kissed you while smiling. "I promise when we have more room i'm going to lay you out across a bed and make you cum so hard that mines the only name you're going to remember"

"That's pretty cocky considering you just spent the last 5 minutes only satisfying yourself." You straightened your clothes, "But I guess I could give you another shot."

You left him where he stood, red faced and pants down in the washroom.

Taehyung stirred as you layed out your blankets.

"Bedtime?"

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

He hummed in pout, "Come back and cuddle with me."

He held up his blanket in invitation and you slid in beside him.

Settling in he was now wide awake and staring endearingly. "I really like you." He smiled brightly at his own admission.

You pushed his shaggy hair off his forehead. "I really like you too Tae."

Somewhere at 35,000 feet in dead of the night you found yourself tangled in lips and limbs with the soft boy.

Where Jungkook had left you wanting more Tae picked up the slack with long lingering kisses and slow moving hands.

His nimble fingers played at your entrance before he plunged one inside, "You're so wet"

Pulling it back out he raised it to his mouth and unknowingly sucked off the mixture of your excitement and Jungkook's cum.

"Taehyung, I want you."

"Yeah?" he ran his finger over your lip before he kissed you again, "flip over for me."

To anyone walking by it would look like you were spooning, slow movements and subdued noises would be the only tell. One hand expertly stroked your clit as the other held steady trapping the moans inside your mouth.

Jungkook sat the next row over listening intently to Taehyung's heavy breaths and the uncontainable whimpers of climax he'd drawn out of you. Mad at himself for his purely selfish attempt with you, he stuck his airpods in and drifted off.

With the group shots finished you'd called a break for everyone but Jungkook.

"You're up first for individuals handsome."

He smiled as the others turned to leave. "Where are we shooting?"

Slinging the camera bag over your shoulder you started to walk away. "Your room."

Once the door was pulled closed he swept you into his arms. "Is this my second chance?"

"We've got a job to do Jungkook, maybe if I get a good shot and we have some time I'll consider it."

He threw his hands up in defeat, "Let's get this picture out of the way then."

"Good, go get in your pool."

Taking your dress off you hoped the added incentive of your bikini would motivate him. Playful and sexy it was the quickest shoot you'd ever done.

"I think I got what I need." You pulled yourself out of the pool and set the camera on the concrete.

"I don't think you did. Not from me anyways."

Legs dangling in the water you kicked some towards him.

"Whose fault is that?"

He pulled his wet shirt over his head and tossed it on the deck.

"Mine, and I'm sorry. I just wanted you so badly."

His hands found their way to your hips and he tugged on your bottoms.

"A little help here?"

You couldn't help but laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck you lifted yourself up so he could slide them off you.

"Let me make it up to you?"

He kissed you, softer this time, more intently.

"How much time do I have?"

"About 20 minutes…"

He raised his brow accepting the challenge. "Then you should lay back."

Sinking to his shoulders in the water his face took residence between your thighs. "So beautiful," he said before sliding his tongue inside you.

It felt like heaven, you couldn't help but tug at his hair as his mouth strategically worked to get you off.

"Are you done yet?" The unfazed voice came from the doorway.

Jungkook's hands held your thighs firmly open when he felt you trying to instinctively clamp them shut.

His eyes flicked up at Taehyung.

"Almost, do you want to stick around and see what it looks like when she cums?"

What was even happening right now? reaching for your dress you wiggled from Jungkook's hands and covered yourself.

Jungkook's tongue now finding itself restless and aggravated poked angrily into his cheek.

He scoffed, "Thanks, I've already seen it. It doesn't look like you're going to get her there anyway."

Taehyung turned, ignoring him completely unfazed. "I wanted to see if I could take you to dinner after you're done working."

Jungkook was visibly angry, "Maybe you should stop monopolizing her and let her spend some time with me without interrupting"

"You two are acting like children, let me know when you're done." Getting up and grabbing your things you left.

Laying out in the sun as they swam nearby, they had unknowingly made a decision for you.

The waitress walked towards you with three frosty glasses on her tray. One was Red, one was Yellow and one was Pink.

“The gentlemen argued about which you’d like more, Strawberry or Lemonade.” She smiled, “they ended up compromising and ordering you a half and half.”

The condensation pooled onto the table as she set them down. Looking in their direction she raised her eyebrow at you knowingly, “Why choose one when you can have both, am I right?”

You'd always thought it had to be one or the other.

Taehyung was Strawberry 🍓

Classic, comforting, consistent. The sweetness of red stained lips and warm hugs that felt like home. Fresh air that made you sleepy while laundry hung on the line. Your Grandmother’s kitchen filled with memories and knowing you were safe.

Jungkook was Lemonade 🍋

Even if you knew what to expect, it always stunned you. A surprise tang that made everything feel like you were a kid on a summer day again. Bright yellow sunshine that permeated your eyelids making your body feel electric, alive and invincible.

But she was right why not have both?

The sunshine felt good on your skin. The decision had lightened your mind and as the waves broke on the shore you were lulled into an unguarded slumber.

If the whispers and stifled giggles hadn't given them away their shadows blocking out the sunshine through your eyelids would have.

"I don't know what you two think you're going to do, but you probably shouldn't."

Raising your hand to shield your face you carefully cracked your eyelids open.

Jungkook stood by your feet, water droplets glistening over his body.

"We wanted to apologise for yesterday." Placing his hand on the back of his neck his usual confidence wavered.

Taehyung laid down and pulled you into a wet bear hug. "We've decided to be mature about this, whoever you decide to pick we'll have no hard feelings."

"What if I don't want to pick, what if I want both of you?"

By the looks on their faces they clearly weren't expecting that as your answer.

"I don't need you to make a decision right away. I'm going to my room so you two can think about it."

Grabbing your drink you smiled and walked away.

Leaving the door unlocked you knew it wouldn't take long for their erections to override their brains. There was a light rapping on the door before the handle turned.

"We came to an agreement and we think that we would probably be okay sharing you."

Taehyung spoke while Jungkook stood blushing.

"But we want to know, how will it work?"

Jungkook cut in, "I think we need rules so we both get equal attention."

Walking closer to Jungkook you knew he'd been feeling neglected.

"Listen, sometimes one of us will need something and sometimes ALL of us will need something…"

You kissed his lips. "Right now I need something from both of you."

You pulled Tae in closer.

"You interrupted the other day and Jungkook never got me off. So the ground rules will come after I do."

Both their jaws were slack and they stood staring not knowing where to even begin.

"Are we good with this arrangement?" To help seal the deal you had a hand on each of them rubbing their growing bulges as they nodded.

"Can I make you cum first? I feel so bad about the other day."

Taehyung snickered.

"I don't know why that's so funny Tae, it's your fault for interrupting. It certainly wasn't from his lack of skill."

You moved your hand away from him and lifted Jungkook's shirt off.

"So, since I didn't get to cum because of you, you don't get to cum until Jungkook has taken care of me."

Used to be in charge, he didn't know what to do or where to be.

"Take your clothes off and sit in that chair, you're going to have to watch."

Jungkook undid the top of your bikini while you let the bottoms fall to your feet. Pulling down his shorts you walked him to the bed. "I need you to finish what you started."

Once again he spread your legs, however, this time it was a performance with an audience and he had a point to prove.

Making sure his Hyung could see everything he began to lay big soft tongue kisses over your excited entrance.

"Fuck Jungkook, I haven't been able to stop thinking about your mouth."

He was skilled. Between his tongue, his lips and his fingers your thighs shook uncontrollably. You looked towards Taehyung, he was watching intently with dark hungry eyes while stroking himself. His lips were parted and heavy breaths escaped everytime his hand moved over his tip.

"I think Taehyung wants a turn Kookie."

Jungkook didn't miss a beat. "He can lick my cum out of you when I'm finished."

"Jungkook, if you can't share you're going to have to leave."

He huffed, so used to getting his way. "You've only got one cunt."

"I do, and if you both want to stay you're both going to lick it."

Jungkook pulled away and flopped on the bed. "Fine, let me know when it's my turn again."

Dipping your finger inside yourself then running it around your lips you teased him, "Tae, do you want some?"

Taehyung grinned, his huge cock stood stiff and straight as he walked over to lay between your legs.

Dragging his finger through your wetness he slowly sank it inside you. Like he was starved he attached his mouth to you, his tongue dancing over your clit, slowly, softly, deliberately. Taehyung did nothing without purpose and his purpose was very clear.

"Holy shit."

Your hands reached to grip the sheets but Jungkook's thigh was closer.

He was staring, watching your face wrecked with pleasure.

"Please Kookie, I want you both so badly."

Shifting down the bed he filled the remaining space between your legs.

Taehyung coaxed him, "Not everything has to be a competition between us."

His fingers delicately opened you wide, "think of it more like choreo, working together."

Wrapping his lips around your aroused bud he sucked softly.

"Let's make this about her."

Their tongues worked in tandem just adjacent to your pleasure point. Their timidness could easily be mistaken for teasing if you didn't know how nervous they both were to be together in such intamacy.

"Please I need this," you couldn't help but beg desperately. 

Without looking at each other their tongues explored further meeting tentatively in the middle to combine their efforts. Inhibitions forgotten, the grander pursuit of ecstasy took over reason and apprehension. 

Their mixed saliva dripped down to where Taehyung's finger was circling around you seeking permission to enter. 

"Your ass is so tight, I'm calling dibs."

Sliding back up beside you he looked like a man possessed. Dark eyes stared into your soul as his fingertips rolled your nipples. 

He ran his nose up your neck and practically hissed, "Can I fuck it?" 

"uh huh." was all you could muster. 

Standing up he grabbed something from his shorts on the floor and moved back towards the chair. "Why don't you come sit on my lap?" 

You tugged Jungkook's hair trying to get his attention, "Change in position baby." 

He sloppily kissed up your stomach, over your breasts and his lips lingered along your jawline. His hard cock was pressed against your leg as he wiggled his hips in search of relief. 

His warm breath tickled your neck as he sighed, "I'm not going to stop until I make up for the quickie." 

His fingers slid inside you while his mouth latched onto your peaked nipple. Suckling as he pumped between your legs he whispered. "I'm want to make you cum so hard." 

The lurid sound of your wetness filled the air as your body squirmed in stimulation. "I'm gonna cum, don't stop, please …" 

His hand moved faster, your orgasm exploding, breaching its bodily confines as you cried out his name in satisfaction. 

Taking a minute to let you come down he got up, pulling you with him. 

Taehyung sat waiting with a smile, condom already stretched over his impressive cock. About to straddle him Jungkook turned you around. 

"You're gonna face me okay." 

"Okay"

He steadied you as you backed toward Tae. Placing your feet to squat on either side of his hips you lowered yourself towards his waiting shaft. 

"Have you done this before?" Taehyung's honey voice dripped into your ear. 

You nodded blushing.

"Of course you have my dirty girl." 

He pushed up and you pushed down, his tip sliding through the tight ring.

Your mouth open, and head back it was a painful adjustment. Jungkook stood staring at your breasts, your arched back making them sit pert on your chest. 

Walking closer, his cock stood pink, weepy and desperate for release while he stroked it. 

Adjusting your grip on the arm rest Taehyung began thrusting into the new more relaxed angel, deep moans rolling out of him like thunder. 

"Now you Jungkook." You pleaded, "I want you both at the same time." 

Jungkook's face was flush, overwhelmed with the scenario unfolding before him. 

"Just focus on me Jungkook, on how much my pussy is aching for you to fill it." 

His breath shook as he balanced his knees on the small remaining chair space. His tip, lingering at your entrance teased the wet folds driving your anticipation crazy. 

Waiting for his turn to jump in, he was trying to match Taehyung's rhythm like a sordid game of double dutch. 

In and out and in and out and oh god when he was finally in. 

Their dropped inhibitions along with the feeling of them thrusting into you in unison was almost too much to bear. Rubbing against your thin wall that lay between them, they must be able to feel it? Head to head their cocks pressing together in your sexual vice. 

The thought of their intimacy combined with their collective moans under you and over you made your skin shiver in ecstasy. 

 "Is this what you wanted? Both of us stuffed inside you?" 

Taehyung was eager with his words. Expletives and praise fell off his tongue in equal measure. 

"Once Jungkook makes that pretty pussy cum again I want you to finish both of us in your mouth." 

Jungkook was biting his lip, still fucking you with a determined concentration. As sweat built over his warm skin Taehyung lay back and wrapped his arms around your thighs. Pulling your knees back he spread you wider for his friend. 

"Lean in and fuck her deeper."

Ever the Maknae, Jungkook listened to his Hyung and ground himself into you slowly until he bottomed out inside your wet wonderland.  Your body shook with pleasure as your cunt pulsated, your second orgasam so close. 

Letting go of your leg Taehyung put his thumb to Jungkook's mouth. 

"Open," he commanded. 

Jungkook licked and sucked the digit until it was pulled hastily from his greedy mouth. Letting his hand wander to the space between you Taehyung rubbed the wet appendage roughly over your clit. 

It only took seconds, the sound of your own pleasured cries ringing through your head as the white lightning orgasm tore through and took over your body. 

Both men lay still enveloping you, Jungkook's face scrunching in concentration as he tried to discourage his own imminent release. 

Tae's soft smiling lips kissed the back of your glistening neck as Jungkook carded his hand gently through your hair brushing it back off your face. Hovering over your mouth his lips skimmed over yours, "Do you think you can finish us baby?"

You didn't have much energy but you nodded knowing that whatever was left you'd use it all to please them however they wanted. 

Jungkook stood and taking your hand helped lift you to the floor. Quickly throwing his condom aside Taehyung joined, wrapping his arms around you. Both men were attentive and grateful yet still acutely unsatisfied. Their lips and hands travelled over you appreciatively while their cocks stood begging for attention. 

Sinking to your knees their half moans half exhales spurred your enthusiasm to please them. 

Taking Jungkook in your mouth you could taste yourself all over him. Your sticky excitement was built up around his balls and you licked it off as he watched intently. 

Your hand slid up and down Tae's shaft easily with the lube left behind from the condom. They were equally thick and perfect, you couldn't help but smile up at them pleased with your choice to take them both.

"Fuck you're beautiful with a cock in your mouth." Tae purred while pumping himself into your grip. 

"Want to see what yours looks like?" 

He didn't have to answer, you gripped onto Jungkook and let your mouth take Tae. 

Alternating between them, rubbing and sucking back and forth they took turns having their way with your face. The breathing got heavier and they were getting greedy with your mouth. Gripping them both, your hands grasped tightly and pumped them until they were whining. 

"Where do you want it?" Jungkook asked urgently. Wrapping his own hand around his length he spurt his hot load into your open waiting mouth and proceeded to stand looking dazed as you turned towards Taehyung. 

"Are you gonna swallow that?"

You looked up with big eyes, mouth open and shook your head no while holding Jungkook's load on your tongue. 

A Few furious strokes later Taehyung came undone, filling the rest of your mouth with his salty excitement. 

Gripping your chin, his thumb caressed your jaw. "What are you waiting for?" 

Getting off your knees you stood to meet their gaze, swallowed and smiled. "Sometimes things taste better combined." 

The last day was quiet, you'd not spoken to either man since yesterday's trist. Bags were packed, passports were lost and located and staff scurried around making sure everything was in order. Your mind was left to wander. You'd hoped the lack of communication was from exhaustion and not embarrassment, you didn't regret a thing.  

Separate cars rolled into the airport and you stood by yourself not wanting to make them uncomfortable in case they indeed had doubts over what had happened. 

Deep into your twitter feed you felt a warm arm wrap around your waist. Jungkook smiled shyly, "I was hoping you'd sit with me this time. You know keep things equal." 

Walking over Taehyung raised his eyebrows at the both of you, "I have a better idea." He held out three new boarding passes, "I got us our own cabin."

THANK YOU FOR READING 💜

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#bts smut #jungkook #taehyung #taekook #noonasinnetwork #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader

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Daddy (Charlie Swan x Reader)

A/N: Guys I just watched twilight 😩 it was so scary :((((( but anyway i thought charlie swan was kind of a dilf so i wrote this little thing :))))))) please be nice this is my first fanfic ever!!!!!

Jacob sits on the windowsill, legs dangling over the edge, the moonlight painting him into a jet black silhouette. I’m lying on the bed in a sensual unicorn onesie, holding back tears.

“It’s not right,” Jacob growls softly into the night. “This man’s no good for you. Does he even know what your true form is, Tentacles?”

“Why does he have to know?” you shoot back angrily. “It’s just a casual thing. I’ll forget about him in no time.” Under your breath, you add, “And don’t call me Tentacles. You know I hate that name. You know Dad was still a coke addict when he chose it.”

“Alright,” he sighs. “What do you want me to call you?”

“Tenny.”

“That’s so fucking ugly. I will not call you that.”

“Don’t make me angry,” you growl. “You know what happens when I’m angry, Jacob.”

He punches the wall out of anger. The whole house caves in. Distantly, I can hear the screams of all our brothers as they are crushed to death beneath the debris, but I don’t give a shit. I hate them all anyway.

“You need to hear this, Tentacles!” Jacob yells sexily. “I don’t want you seeing that man anymore! It’s only gonna end badly, for the both of you!”

“Shut the hell up, Jacob! How do you know what’s good for me?”

His eyes soften, and he slumps back against the bed. He stares at his own hairy hands as though he can’t recognize them. “Because I’m your older brother and I care about you, Tentacles. I don’t want to see you hurt. I’m only doing this to protect you.”

I’m so angry i can feel my skin harden into magic rainbow scales that glimmer in the moonlight. Oh 𝓝𝓸... Jacob made me angry. Im transforming. This isn’t good. I don’t want to accidentally hurt him or drag him into the river and hold his head underwater until he drowns and his body gets washed upstream into Portland again (it’s one of my silly little quirks)... 𝓝𝓸. I have to get out. For his own good. Quickly, i leap out the window and flop on the ground until I reach the banks of the river. I have to get into the water soon, or I’ll run out of oxygen and die.

Before I jump into the ice cold water, I yell out of spite, “You can’t tell me what to do, Jacob! You’re not my daddy!”

Suddenly, at the mention of ‘daddy,’ Charlie Swan is summoned from the police station in his policeman uniform with his porn actor mustache and manifests through the cold autumn air. He stares at you, shocked, as you flop madly around and asphyxiate.

“Did someone say daddy?” he asks breathlessly.

“I-I-I-I-I-I did,” you gasp. “Quick, Charlie, dunk me into the river before I asphyxiate and die!”

There’s a panicked look into his eyes as he picks you up roughly and carries you in his arms. You’re a little shy sitting naked in his arms like that (every time you transform into your true mermaid form, you rip out of your clothes... another silly little quirk xD), but his coarse thick dilfy dark dominant arm hairs feel so nice and gentle and warm and sweet and rough... but not too rough, just the perfect amount of roughness... on your bare skin. You blush. He dunks you headfirst into the river.

“Is that better, baby girl?” He asks.

You bring your head out of the water, dripping wet, and say, “y-y-6ay-y-y3s daddy”

He stares somberly into the moonlight and shimmers. “Good. If you died... I-I wouldn’t know what to do. I can’t imagine living without you, baby girl.”

“Even though you’ve only known me three days and we managed to have sex fifty-three times in that brief timespan?”

“*precisely* because I’ve only known you three days and we managed to have sex fifty-three times in that brief timespan.”

You blush. “C-c-c-c-c-can we do it right now daddy?”

“Anything for you, baby girl,” he smirks sexily. You blink and suddenly all of his clothes have been torn off and he’s wading into the water after you. God he’s so fucking sexy. You give him a sexy stare as your papilla widens and you sexily release dozens of your eggs into the water, just ready to be fertilized. He smirks sexily as he sexily releases his sperm, which floats all the way down to the bank of the river and fertilizes all your eggs.

“Oh yeah daddy,” you moan.

Suddenly he sobers up and stares at the moon through the surface of the cool blue water. “We can’t do this anymore, Tentacles.”

You immediately start sobbing and searching for a cliff to launch yourself off of. “BUT WHY DADDY”

“Because.......” he sighs. “I’m a man. You’re a fish. It just won’t work.”

“I’m not a fish!” you scream. “Okay, I’m only part fish! But I’m part salmon! That’s the sexiest fish!”

“I know that’s the sexiest fish,” he confesses. “But babygirl... it’s just not right. I need to protect you. Listen... what if I’m... not the hero? What if I’m the bad guy?”

You sigh and stare somberly up at the moon. “Then... I guess I’m in love with the bad guy, aren’t I?”

He stares at you somberly, eyes shining. “Do you mean it, babyiglr?”

“Of course.” You bite your lip, afraid to go on. “What if I... turned you? What if I turned you into a mermaid? So we could be together forever? Mermaids don’t die, you know. I know we’ve only known each other three days now and we’ve managed to have sex fifty-four times in that timespan, but I... I just know you’re the one, daddy. I want to be with you forever.”

He starts sobbing. “That’s beautiful.”

You’re about to mark him into a sexy shirtless dilfy merman by tearing off your scales and forcing him to consume them one by one when suddenly the water above you ripples and Jacob crashes into the water in his wolf form. He barks at Charlie until Charlie starts crying.

“How dare you touch my sister?” he growls.

“I’m sorry, Jacob!” Charlie begs as Jacob begins to mercilessly maul him to death.

“𝓝𝓸 JACOB STOP!” you scream, trying to pull him off of your lover and soon-to-be father of your seven thousand children.

Jacob turns to stare at you, his eyes softening. You can see a hint of his humanity in those dark brown orbs.

“This isn’t like you, Jacob,” you say quietly. “Look at me, Jacob. This isn’t the real you. You’re letting all the demons inside of you out. I know it’s hard, but you have to hold them in. For your own good.”

“Tentacles...” he says softly, as all of his hair starts to fall out and his skin stretches and disfigures into the shape of an extremely buff human male.

You hug him and sob into his shoulder. “I thought I was gonna lose you, Jacob...”

“Don’t you understand, Tentacles?” he says, staring somberly at the moon. “I would never give you up. I would never let you down, run around, or desert you.”

You smile at him when suddenly you hear the sounds of Charlie desperately gasping for air as he drowns in the river. You immediately start sobbing. “don’t DIE DADDY!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll save him” Jacob growls, immediately grabbing Charlie by the stomach and throwing him onto the bank with his superhuman strength. He immediately starts gasping for breath.

“Is he gonna die?” you sob.

“𝓝𝓸,” Jacob says, staring off into the distance. “Not if you give him mouth to mouth. That’s the only way to save him now.”

“Why can’t you give him mouth to mouth?”

“Because that’s gay.”

You sigh, resigning yourself to your fate. You lean your head down, about to give Charlie mouth to mouth and revive him, when suddenly Edward Cullen bursts through the trees, carrying Bella in his arms. She’s limp, and hopefully dead, but when you get a closer look at her you realize that unfortunately she’s still breathing.

“Jacob, I need your help,” Edward screams, sparkling even though it’s moonlight and for some reason he’s shirtless. “It’s Bella... she almost died again.”

Jacob stares somberly at the moon. “What happened this time?”

“She fell down the stairs and immediately fell into a coma,” Edward screams. “And then she somehow flew out through a window, where she sustained numerous lacerations to the skin. And then she fell off a cliff, where she broke all 206 of her bones. And then the smell of her blood attracted all the nearby vampires, who immediately began to feast on her blood. I had to suck all the poison out of her body for an hour and twenty seven minutes while at the same time resuscitating her and fighting off all seventeen vampires while simultaneously ripping my clothes off.”

“I don’t understand,” Jacob says. “What do you need me for?”

“Guys, Charlie’s dyin—“

“Shut the fuck up!” Edward screams, turning to you. “Nobody cares! Can’t you see someone’s dying over here?” He sets Bella down in the grass and begins sobbing and staring somberly at the moon. “Jacob I need you to give her mouth to mouth.”

“Why me?” Jacob growls. You begin to perform the Heimlich maneuver on Charlie, but you’re too distracted by the sight of edward’s sparkling six-pack to focus.

“Because....” Edward screams, staring sexily I mean somberly at the moon. “If I do it.......... I won’t be able to control myself.”

“From doing what?”

“Just shut up and do it, Jacob!”

Jacob immediately rips off his shirt in order to perform mouth to mouth more efficiently and brings his lips to Bella’s. Edward gets so jealous watching them, he leaps three inches through the air and punches Jacob across the face.

“What did you do that for?”

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Edward screams. “She’s mine and mine alone!”

“You abandoned her!” Jacob growls. “She’s mine now!”

“Guys Charlie’s dying what do I—“

Jacob immediately unleashes his wolf form and begins to maul Edward, but Edward continuously punches him, sparkling in the moonlight all the while. The fight lasts for thirty-two seconds, before Jacob rips Edward’s face off and begins cannibalizing that ugly mf’s body. You watch in horror, and then you realize that Charlie’s still dying. You can’t save him in time and he eventually dies. You get so sad that you start sobbing and fling yourself off a cliff where you hit the stone bed beneath the river and die on impact.

#twilight #charlieswan #daddy #fishkink #breedingkink #jacob sartorius #edward sheeran #bellaswan #sexy #alpha #newauthor #pulitzerprizewinner #alpacino

[hartleytrashaway]

agirlwithachakram replied to your post “i’m really torn between ‘hooray my beautiful son is back’ and ‘cool,...”

asdf,ansdf,nasd,mf RIGHT??? why is this show so straight in all the worst possible ways, how is it so fixated on talking about feelings of (SOME OF) the main characters to the detriment of getting into the big ideas that matter and inform their lives and traumas and why do they keep writing in hartley only to write him out instantly?

so i haven’t regularly watched the show since the end of s3 but didn’t they have some weird therapist mini-arc that didn’t go anywhere or actually address anybody’s problems? please correct me if i’m wrong. but i’m forever baffled by this show’s alternately glib and heavy-handed approaches to its extremely fucked-up characters. (even back when the show was good they really hand-waved a lot of shit away. jesse basically has no recovery time whatsoever from prolonged captivity and i’m still fucking uncomfortable about that.) it’s always had this inconsistent and wrong-headed approach to trauma despite dealing with some incredibly weighty issues. 

i absolutely think the show has been the most notorious one in the arrowverse for just so thoroughly shitting on the legacies of almost EVERYONE in the cast. the way they’ve just decimated the rogues has rankled me for years (see above re: glossing over serious issues, bc lisa snart is exhibit A), but they’ve also paid majorly important characters like wally, linda, etc. dust or sacrificed them on the altar of barry as golden god. i don’t even know who half the names are in the recaps anymore, and honestly, i don’t even care enough to look them up because i don’t want to get invested in someone the narrative will probably screw over for, idk, barry making stupid-ass decisions and being sad about it. (i get that barry is the main character, but don’t keep shoving teamwork and family down my throat as themes when you fuck over everyone in barry allen’s periphery.)

and hartley.......just a fucking case study in What the Fuck are Y’all DOING on This Show? there’s something about the constant betrayals of hartley that specifically hurt more than other characters. part of that is because the characters will create a problem for themselves that would be perfect for hartley to help solve (and they just forget he exists), but also hartley was set up with an incredibly intriguing backstory/identity/relationship to team flash, and the writers squandered literally everything about it. hartley is just as much of a victim as caitlin and cisco in terms of betrayed employees, and in many ways more of a victim because of the closeness of his relationship with harrison (regardless of whether it’s interpreted as platonic or romantic/sexual) and the viciousness with which harrison destroyed him. (it’s worth noting that it isn’t barry who beats hartley on the bridge in 1x11; it’s harrison, and his defeat is gruesome and brutal.) the show kicks the shit out of hartley, sometimes literally, and never reckons with the nastiness of the extra abuses they heap on a traumatized, isolated abuse victim. 

the ostensibly happy endings they give him are, like practically everything else, a nice sheen of Good News covering some really ugly content. 2x17 brings hartley back and gives him his hero moment and shows him happy and fulfilled...and then slips on a banana peel and slides right into the fucking trash by asking him to reunite with his homophobic parents. it feels even worse to show how crisis dicked over his timeline again. it cheapens his first and best episode by retroactively wiping out his pain and grief and desperate vengeance. the hartley we meet in 1x11 has been driven to this point by the continuous betrayals of the authority figures in his life and runs rampant because no one was there to temper him. it’s obvious that he’s alone in the world and has been for a while. sliding in a Cool Fix-It Boyfriend is a band-aid solution that disrespects hartley (and roderick, who exists only to be that good dick, i guess?) by stripping his history and motivations, again. i can’t be the only queer who fell in love with hartley because he was traumatized and ostracized and angry about it, and he gave voice to all those bitter feelings. every new retcon, every time they dangle a mention or appearance of hartley, only to squash our hopes with whatever stupid-ass narrative device they’ve got this time, becomes more and more insulting. 

like -- we get hartley meeting another harrison. this should be a fucking powder keg of a moment. i’ve been wishing that we could have seen this since s2, and i wanted so badly for hartley to be able to just unleash all the grief and hurt at someone who may not be the original harrison, but who still wears harrison’s face. and they just fucking whiffed it by having it be another opportunity for hartley to play the horny gay kid. on the surface: extremely in keeping with who hartley has always been, which is sarcastic, into tom cavanagh, and DTF. it’s one of those things that’s fine if you don’t think about it too hard, or if you go full lizard brain about it and just go ‘lol hartley wants to bang u.’ but it’s also so fucking deflating for hartley as a fully-realized character -- in one fell swoop, hartley’s supposed antagonistic relationship that has practically been his raison d’être in his past appearances becomes a blip on the radar so minor he can crack jokes about wanting to ride the cock express all the way to double-bang town. it invalidates his struggles and whisks away so much of what made him a rich, relatable character in the first place. 

anyway sorry i wrote a fucking essay you didn’t ask for. ima wrap this up even though i have a ton more to say, bc otherwise i will legit be here for hours getting mad about the fucking POTENTIAL this show has and refuses to take advantage of. 

#agirlwithachakram #guess i just can't stop myself from ranting and raving when it comes to h raths #hartley rathaway #the flash #the flash spoilers #long post #sorry followers!!

[mf-despair-queen]

Sweet as Chocolate - Dylan O’Brien

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Dylan O’Brien/Reader

Word Count: 11,022

Summary: Work puts a damper on Valentine’s Day. Luckily, Dylan O’Brien is the sweetest boyfriend in the world and makes the day unforgettable. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Unprotected Sex, Oral (both receiving), Kitchen Sex, Side Sex, Bondage, Multiple Orgasms, Use of Food in sexy ways

Notes: This took forever :’) but Ha[y Valentine’s Day?

“I’m sorry you had to work today, baby. Kind of ruins the Valentine's Day plans when you have to put in overtime for that stupid boss of yours,” his sweet, voice boomed through the speaker of your phone into your ear, the melodic sound ringing through your brain. The smile on your face couldn’t be stopped, the hand casually resting in your lap as you sat in a secluded area of the office, curling into a fist against the tight pencil skirt that lined your waist.

“I should be the one apologizing, Dyl. It was my job that kept us from being together today. On Valentine’s Day of all days.”

Dylan could hear the pout in your voice, chuckling deeply. “I mean, it’s just another day really. We see each other nearly every day anyway. I sleep with you nightly.”

“But it’s the day of romance,” you huffed at him sadly. “I just wanted to have a cute date with you since we haven’t had one in a while. The last thing I wanted was to see my coworkers for the longest eight hours of my life.”

“Cheer up, sweetheart,” Dylan cooed through the phone. “It’ll blow by before you know it. Don’t let yourself get down.”

You sighed, playing with the frills on your blouse aimlessly. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” you asked rhetorically. “Of how great a boyfriend you are?”

“You have, but I never get tired of it because it means I get to hear your beautiful voice even more,” was his cheesy remark, making you blush lightly and laugh. “And as much as I could lay in bed right now listening to you talk all day, you need to get to work missy. Otherwise, your boss is going to chew you out.”

You laughed again, nodding despite his inability to see your response. “Yeah, yeah. I know,” you hummed. “Don’t do too much in that bed alone, alright? Save some for me for later, won’t you?”

“I can’t make any promises,” was his quick retort. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to force you to do anything if you are tired. I know it’ll be a long day for you.”

“That makes it even sweeter in the end,” you laughed. Glancing at the clock, you saw it was nearing your start time. On the other end of the line, Dylan was yawning too, his quick wake up to call before work beginning to show. You could just picture his drowsy expression, the phone slipping from his grasp as he tried not to fall asleep talking to you. His hair was probably ruffled from sleep, his lower half tangled in the sheets. He would most likely be laying on his stomach, bare torso exposed to the air of your shared home, but the delicious patches of dark hair would be hidden by the bed. It made your heart race just thinking about it. “I love you, Dyl.”

“I love you too, Y/N. Have a good day.”

“No guarantees.”

After bidding him adieu, you made for your desk, clocking in on your way. Just as you plopped down at your desk, powering on your computer and stashing your purse away, your phone dinged with a text message. Dylan’s silly contact image popped up, his silly duck face making you smile. Clicking on the message, your smile grew wider.

[From Dylie: Remember, Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. I promise I will make sure you have a good day. Just you wait ;) and remember to keep smiling always. Because your smile is beautiful, just like you. Love you! <3]

He always knew just how to make you smile. You didn’t bother to reply, locking your phone and setting it aside before your boss could make his rounds of the office, his mouth parted as he squawked all sorts of remarks and complaints. Dylan wouldn’t expect you to reply - he just wanted you to smile. And that’s exactly what you did.

Smiled and grit your teeth to survive the day with your annoying boss and coworkers instead of spending much needed time with your boyfriend of five years, Dylan O’Brien.

The morning seemed to trudge on, a headache setting in within the first hour as people complained about everything they could. The time seemed to tick in slow motion, your eyes glue to the hands of the clock on the wall across from your desk when you had nothing to do for brief periods of time. They seemed to freeze under your gaze, the tick of the seconds hesitating before moving to the next notch.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

You were ready to slam your head to the desk before lunch had even hit. The papers were slowly piling up. Your computer had tried to crash a handful of times. Your feet were hurting from the heels on your feet, your boss constantly asking you to walk to the only working scanner in the building - furthest from your designated seat - to make copies for god knows what. Everything seemed to hit at once, your mood declining rapidly. All hope for a good day had diminished, the light at the end of the tunnel snuffed out by eternal darkness.

“Excuse me,” someone called, the door of the office cracked. The young man had a red hat on that read Fabulous Floral, a clipboard in his hand. “I have a delivery for a miss…” he paused to check his papers. “Y/N L/N?”

You blinked your eyes in confusion, feeling the dozens of hawk-like stares on your back. Apprehensively, you approached the male, attempting to ignore the piercing looks people were giving while snooping in your business. Their noses were upturned, waiting to see what the young lad had to say. Their nosy behavior was irritating, your blood running hot.

“How can I help you?” you offered after a short breath.

“I just need you to sign here,” he smiled happily, holding out the clipboard he had when he arrived. Your brow rose, but you took the pen he offered anyway, scribbling your signature on the appropriate line. “Thank you very much ma’am. I hope you enjoy your flowers! And have a wonderful Valentine’s Day!”

Your jaw dropped at his words, eyes widening the same amount when his coworker walked inside with a large vase of red roses. A pink ribbon with red trim was wrapped around the neck of the vase, tied in a neat bow. Amongst the roses were colorful plastic hearts and shimmering strings of foil hearts. You gawked at the floral arrangement as it was placed on your desk. The two men thanked you before leaving, the door clicking shut behind them.

Your coworkers were whispering about what had happened. They were still watching you eagerly when you approached the flowers, pulling the small card from the roses. Taking a short moment before daring to open the envelope that was decorated with your name neatly, you breathed in the scent of the roses, relishing in the sweet aroma they offered. Your fingers grazed the many petals, the smooth texture against the tips of your fingers offering you some relief from the stress of the day. The thorns had been removed so you weren’t at risk of pricking your finger and the sharp edges. Each rose you touched, every bit of fragrance and elegant touch you got from their beauty, made your heart thump. A smile rose to your face, shyly staring at the roses in awe.

Your hands trembled anxiously as you opened the envelope that sat in your sweaty palms. The writing was messy, yet had a neat joy about it. The clear words that were written across the card inside portrayed such a short message, but the meaning gave the butterflies in your stomach a reason to flutter around wildly. The words were red in color to match the tint of the roses in the vase before you, each one written precisely.

A dozen beautiful roses for a beautiful girl. Yet, a dozen isn’t nearly enough to express how the number of things I love about you. -Dylan

His normal scrawl made the note even more meaningful. Holding it close to your chest, you let out a hefty sigh of happiness, your smile gleaming largely. The whispering around you died away as everyone returned to their seats, still sparing a glance or two in your direction.

Carefully, you moved the flowers to the side of your desk, taking your place in your rolling chair. Fingers were placed to the keyboard of your computer, eyes flickering to the flowers as you began typing away once more, mood considerably brighter than it had been earlier in the day.

At precisely two o’clock, the door opened again, a young woman in a grey shirt and khakis holding a clipboard in the frame. The embroidered signature on her uniform read ‘Edible Arrangements’, telling you what was about to enter your office. Who it was for, there was no telling. The man making the delivery with her was holding the arrangement of fruit behind her, waiting for the cue to hand it off.

“Hi. I’m looking for a Miss Y/N LN?” the girl cheerful spoke, bouncing on her toes.

Your face flushed again, slowly getting up from your desk. Chatter resumed again in the office, shocked twice as much for the deliveries you were receiving. Signing your life away for the second time in the time span of a few hours, you took the fruity bouquet from her assistant. The pair gratefully thanked you before leaving, the door clicking shut.

A card was nestled amongst the various fruits, all your favorites arranged in a gorgeous array of sweet design. Strawberries, varying from regular, chocolate dipped, and even ones that were stripped further with white chocolate, were intermingled with mango that was cut into the shape of hearts. A perfectly tempered chocolate heart was in the middle, white chocolate cursive spelling out ‘I love you’ in the center and luster dust making it shimmer in the light. Flecks of edible gold dotting random fruits. The vase the arrangement was sat in was red with two intertwining white hearts, a bear dangling from a small handle on the side. It was holding a fake chocolate dipped rose with a precious smile sew into the snout.

Another handwritten note sat between your fingers.

I figured you would need something sweet to get through the day, but I assure you - the fruit isn’t nearly as sweet as you. - Dylan

It felt like your heart was ready to burst from your chest with how hard it was pounding. Your legs felt weak from the overwhelming bliss that was raining over you. Your heard was spiraling, the shower of gifts causing your face to burn and your mind empty of anything but extreme elation.

Picking a strawberry from the bunch, the taste of the sweet juices entered your mouth after one bite. Chocolate stained your tongue in milky lusciousness that made your mouth water. A squeal of excitement made your throat rumble, turning into a pleasant moan from the delicious taste. Others flocked to your desk to partake in the fruity treats - all outcomes similar to yours.

The snack break to indulge in your gift was short lived, people returning to work before your boss had a fit that things weren’t being done in a timely matter. But with each hour that ticked by, you were happy to sneak another strawberry that made every ounce of your taste buds tingle.

At five, people were buzzing around, bags rustling and stuffed with papers. Low chatter filled the air, sighs of relief that the day was finally over the noise most often heard. You joined in the silent cheers that the unfortunate day at work had concluded. You could finally go home, curl up on the couch - hopefully with your boyfriend - and watch some cheesy rom com to relax and destress. Your stomach grumbled, ready for any meal you could get, whether it is a quick fast food meal or a simple sandwich from the fridge at home.

You just wanted to be home in the arms of the man you loved.

Just as you were grabbing your purse from your desk drawer, the door opened. Initially figuring it was someone leaving the office, you didn’t bother to glance up, making sure to drop all of your belongings in your bag before preparing to leave. Only when one of the girls nudged you did you look up, your purse slipping from your hands at the sight before you. Your mouth was dry and your eyes were wide. The shutter of phone cameras clicked behind you, taking advantage of the scene at the door. A once in a lifetime opportunity to see this - all because of your boyfriend really.

Tyler Posey, the hot main character of the MTV show Teen Wolf, stood in the doorway of your office. Posey was a close friend, the two of you clicking instantly the first time Dylan introduced you to each other. He was like the big brother you never had - always willing to help but still tease you when he could. The fact that he stood here now not only shocked you, but what he had made you flustered.

The tattooed young man was dressed in a suit, which wasn’t much of a surprise really. He always had loved being neatly dressed, almost as much as he loved his shorts and tank tops with backwards baseball cap. Tucked under one arm was a massive teddy bear, probably larger than you, that was holding a heart that read ‘Be Mine’. In his other hand was a neatly wrapped box, the paper a pale pink and the bow, white as snow, curled perfectly.

“Tyler, what are you doing here?” you asked, glancing around at your coworkers that were still snapping pictures.

“I came to pick you up!” he chimed cheerfully. You simply blinked in confusion, Posey’s smile never faltering and his bouncing persona making his body vibrate. His feet moved forward, holding out the bear first. “I was sent to deliver this overly large, fuzzy bear for you.”

“Ok?” you squeaked unsurely. “Um, thank you?”

Taking the bear, Posey had not lied. It was the softest thing you had ever touched. The second it landed in your grasp, you were hugging it to your chest, wanting to find the closest couch to curl up and cuddle the large animal until you fell asleep. You were ready to snuggle it nightly, burying your face in the fuzzy fur. Your smile mirrors the one you received with every unexpected gift through the day, your heart fluttering joyfully.

“I’m glad you like it and all,” Posey chuckled, narrowing his eyes on your thrilled form. “It was a bitch to get in my truck too because that thing is huge, and I don’t get why he had to spoil you with that. But a guy has to please his girl for Valentine’s day I guess. So… here.”

He held out the box. Glancing between it and the face of your friend, you placed the bear on your chair, taking the box. “What is this?”

“Don’t be dense,” Posey laughed, shaking his head. “If you haven’t picked up on it yet, my best friend - your lovely little boyfriend - has sent me to deliver gifts and to pick you up to take you to a mysterious location. He told me to tell you that he loves you very much and that he wants to treat you to a wonderful night since you couldn’t spend the day together. You need to take that box into the bathroom and change before we can get going.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You know I love you, sis, but think about it,” Posey laughed again. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Your boyfriend bought you a bunch of gifts. And I’m taking you to him.” You stared at him. “Oh my god.”

Giggling, you shook your head. “I get it, Pose. Thank you for the help.” Pushing up on your toes, you placed a kiss to his cheek, earning a toothy grin from the man. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Tyler. Did you spoil Sophia?”

“Of course.”

“Good answer,” was all you said before taking the box and retreating to the bathroom, all the while knowing that Posey was bound to be bombarded by your coworkers that were gawking at the actor in their office.

Placing the box on the sink, the ribbon was uncurled and loosened. The paper covering the box was torn and discarded. Tissue paper lined the inside when you lifted the top of the box off., crinkling under your touch. Your heart nearly stopped on the contents inside. Resting on the top were a pair of low heels, the color a soft pink. The toes were covered and there was a strap that would wrap around your ankle. Two straps covered the top of your foot, starting from the center of the toe to the strap around the ankle. They weren’t the highest heels, making you breathe a sigh of relief that you wouldn’t break an ankle with wherever Posey was going to be taking you.

Under the heels laid a neatly folded pink dress. It was strapless with dazzling rhinestones lining the collar that hugged around the neck. A shimmering silver belt lined the middle of the dress around the waist. The skirt of the dress was pleated and flared out cutely. Sliding it on, replacing your work clothes, the dress ended around your mid-thigh. Your work clothes were placed in the box instead. Doing one last spin, checking yourself out in the small mirror, you left to return to your friend.

Posey stood instantly, pushing past the girls trying to talk to him. His eyes twinkled, the man ruffling his hair as he approached you. Placing the box aside, you allowed him to wrap his arms around you, the musk of his cologne wafting into your nose. “You look beautiful, sis,” he whispered.

“Thanks, Pose,” you replied.

Backing away, his hands ran up and down your arms. “Now, let’s get you to your man.”

You carried the large bear to Posey’s truck while he carried your other belongings. The man was a gentleman, opening the door for you and helping you in before climbing into the driver’s seat. You managed to make small talk as he drove, destination unknown to you. It was nice to catch up with Posey, the man having been busy with his band recently to be seen.

As he drove, he dug in the door for a sleep mask, holding it towards you. “Unfortunately, as we get close, I can’t let you see anything.”

“Seriously?” you pouted, taking the mask.

“Don’t blame me. Blame your boyfriend,” he chuckled. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Fine,” you whined, placing the mask over your eyes, your vision going dark. “I swear though If you are secretly taking me away for me to die, I will haunt you. I know where you live, Tyler Garcia Posey.”

“Damn. You ruined my plans!”

You waited until the truck stopped, the engine killed. Posey slipped from the truck, leaving you alone for a second before your door opened. The air was chillier than before and smelled of salt. In the distance came the subtle crash of waves, signifying the location you were at. The beaches of California were one of your favorite spots, the sun setting in the distance making your body warm with comfort. The door behind you was slammed shut, Tyler leaving you by the truck as he disappeared briefly.

Jumping when he returned, one of his hands on your back and the other taking your hand, he led you forward. With your vision obscured, your steps were tentative, the heels clicking against the asphalt with every footfall forward. Posey would tell you when to step, making sure you didn’t trip or fall as you moved forward.

Finally, you sunk into the sand, the grainy feeling cold and refreshing. It was hard to stumble forward with the heels still on your feet, and your legs were already beginning to burn from trudging through the sand, sinking under your body weight. The splashes from the waves was growing louder, the sound of voices far in the distance. You were virtually alone with Posey on the beach, unsure where Dylan was or what he was planning.

Finally, you were stopped, Tyler’s large hands on your shoulders. His breath hit your ear as he spoke. “Happy Valentine’s Day, you lil shit. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, but make sure to have fun tonight.”

You were left alone in the darkness. When nothing happened after a minute, your curiosity got the best of you. The eye mask was removed from your face, eyes blinking to adjust to the setting sun. Your arms dropped to your sides, the mask slipping from your grasp and landing in a heap in the sand. The scene before you was straight out of a movie: the sun setting in the distance beyond the oceanic horizon, mixing the sky with reds, oranges, and pinks. The water glowed, twinkling beautifully. In the sand, just out of reach of the waves that crashed to the shore, were two intricately drawn hearts that interlocked. In on heart was your initials, while the other had the unmistakable initials of your boyfriend: DOB. Under the hearts, it said I love you, making you heart race.

Something soft touched your hand, but you didn’t need to look at the source. Your fingers intertwined together, the larger, rougher one giving a reassuring squeeze. A pair of lips met your temple, your eyes fluttering closed at the soft touch. Your body turned and crash into his chest, being hugged close to his warmth. His cologne was soft and subtle, but made your mouth water at the sweet aroma. Your nails clawed at his back, gripping at the shirt he was wearing.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he whispered, voice deep and husky.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dyl,” you replied just as quietly, finally glancing up to meet his sweet honey-colored irises. He smiled at you, placing a short, tender, but always loving kiss to your lips.

He looked beautiful under the glow of the setting sun. But, realistically, when didn’t he look gorgeous? The jeans he had on were dark washed and neat, but he stepped up the game with a dark blue button up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his veiny arms. The veins travelled all the way down to his hands where his thumbs smoothed across your knuckles, keeping his grip firm in yours. His hair was quiffed, sticking up to the sky, and he had trimmed his beard, leaving it a short stubble against his jawline.

You would remember this for the rest of your life, just this image.

“I hope you enjoyed all of the gifts,” he hummed, swaying your hands left and right. “I wanted to give you something to cheer you up since you were stuck at work all day. Since we couldn’t spend the day together, I had to find another way to keep you happy.”

“They were wonderful, Dyl. You really didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to. And now, we can be together. So, I hope you like the idea of dinner and wine on the beach.”

“Two of my favorite things,” you giggled. “Food and alcohol.”

Dylan pouted playfully walking backwards towards a small table that was set up, two wine glasses already filled with Moscato, the bubbles trickling to the top of the liquid. “What about me? I made my mom’s chicken parm for you.”

“You’re still in the top five, honey,” you teased, placing a kiss to his lips. He still pouted into the kiss; you could feel it when you backed away just enough that your lips still brushed as you spoke. “You’ll always be my number one.”

“I better be,” was his smug remark. His arms wrapped around you, fingers trailing up and down your back soothingly. Your arms wound around him in return, clutching at his shirt. The tender touch of his lips to your forehead made your face heat up with a bright blush, a smile curled on your lips. “Now, let’s eat.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

~

The dinner was one of the most romantic things you ever had ever encountered. The delicious homemade food made your mouth water. The refreshing wine sliding down your throat, arms jokingly interlocked as you tilted the glass back, the rim on your lips. It was hard to sip the liquid when he made funny faces at you as he drank his own wine, soft giggles escaping your mouth every time. After eating, you relaxed on a blanket in the sand, listening to the waves crashing against the shore. Leaning against Dylan’s broad chest, you could hear his heart beating rapidly and unevenly - just like your own. His arms hugged your waist, your fingers tangling together in an array of digits, toying with each other’s hands. Together, you watched the sun set in the horizon, the sky turning a dark black, the rainbow of colors vanishing in a blink.

You helped Dylan clean up, walking hand in hand to his car. Halfway through the sand, you paused, noting the lack of Tyler Posey and his truck. “Where is Pose?”

“He headed home to have dinner with his other half,” Dylan hummed.

You blinked, cocking your head. “But my stuff was in his truck.”

“It’s in my car,” Dylan chuckled.

“What?”

“I had everything planned, babe,” Dylan mused playfully. “Ty has my spare car key right now. He put your stuff in my car while we had our romantic little getaway.”

“That sneaky little bastard,” you scoffed under your breath, earning a rowdy chuckle from the man beside you.

“He was a great help,” Dylan told you, unwinding your hands so he could sling his arm around your shoulders. His touch warmed you, goosebumps from the night chill and thrill from his hold popping up on your arm. “Plus, he promised not to cockblock us if he was allowed to help.”

“That fucking Posey,” you laughed.

“I’m grateful that he was so forceful with wanting to help me do something special for you this year,” the man chuckled. “I never get to do something special for you for Valentine’s Day because of work. So, when he said he wanted to help, I was all for it.”

“You really didn’t have to, Dyl.”

“I know,” he hummed, kissing the side of your head. “But I wanted to. I wanted you to know that I love you more than anything and I wanted to do something that would make you happy. I want to spoil you because you deserve it. I wanted nothing more than to give you a day to remember.”

He unlocked the car for you as you arrived, placing everything in the back seat. The door slammed shut, his back leaned against the side of the vehicle. You inched between his legs, the two of you easing into each other before trying to rush home.

“Dyl,” you murmured, resting your chin on his chest, glancing up to meet his honey eyes. They glimmered staring down at you, crystal clear against the dark, cloudless sky behind his head. His slender digits stroked their way through your locks, pushing the strands from your face. “If I have to be honest, every day is a day to remember with you. I look forward to waking up. I look forward to every adventure. I look forward to hearing your voice. I look forward to seeing your face when I fall asleep at night. I look forward to every day of my life with you because you make every day memorable. And, I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” he sniffled playfully.

“Good,” you teased, placing a soft kiss to his lips. “All according to plan.”

“You evil little minx.” Dylan hugged you close, pushing off the car to spin you around. He grinned at the laughter you let out. “And I thought that I was the mastermind with the evil plans today.”

“Keep thinking that, baby,” you toyed, patting his cheek. “We know who wears the pants in this relationship.”

“We’ll see about that,” his smooth, sultry voice cooed coyly. Opening the passenger door, he handed you the bear that sat in your seat. “Now, get in the car so we can head home.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “Rude.”

“So, you say now,” he chuckled. “But soon, you’ll realize just how sweet I really am.”

The car ride home was filled with laughter and horrible singing, short kisses shared at red lights. The roads were surprisingly empty, most people probably having a romantic meal with their significant others. Dylan held your hand tightly as he drove, winding through the streets of Los Angeles to get you back to your shared home. Occasionally, he would let go of your hand, placing it on your thigh instead. His fingers would tinker with the end of your dress, teasingly pushing his fingers under the hem without seeking a destination.

He was starting to get you a bit hot and bothered.

You were shocked, and yet ecstatic, pulling into the driveway. The porch lights were on, shining on the grass of the front lawn. On the face of the green leaves were multiple hearts of white powdered from left to right, all sizes displayed before you. Dylan chuckled at your gawking expression, kissing your cheek. The flour dusted hearts on the lawn made your own heart thump wildly, hand flailing at your boyfriend.

“Haven’t you done enough?” you whined, allowing him to lead you through the white hearts into the house.

“Oh, no. Not at all,” he grinned, opening the front door for you. “We haven’t even had dessert.”

“Seriously?” you whined with a pout. “I’m going to kill you.”

“But, I made cupcakes,” he whimpered, leading the way to the kitchen after the door was locked and your shoes were discarded. On the table was a tray of cupcakes, chocolate in flavor. The frosting was piped in neat rosettes, edible gold flecked on top. A bowl of strawberries was to the left of the cupcakes with a bowl of melted chocolate to the right. A spare bottle of chocolate syrup rested on the table, the Hersey label staring daggers are your chocolate-loving soul. And to top everything off, literally, was an unopened canister of whipped cream.

Dylan rushed forward, striking a match to light a few candles, the glow from the flames licking the walls and highlighting his face. They added to the romantic aura of the night, the sensual vibe radiating around you. The handsome gentleman before you pulled out a chair for you, extending a hand while bowing to aid you with moving to your seat. Plopping in his own seat beside you afterwards, your legs tangled under the table, allowing your bodies to get cozy, nuzzling together. A veiny hand reached to grab a chocolate cupcake, Dylan feeding you the succulent sweetness.

In movies, you always saw the romantic dates where the couple would feed each other in the most erotic way, lips slowly parting while food was placed between them, mouth watering as they bit into it. It was always in slow motion too - your eyes glued to the way their eyes would close and they would enjoy every second of the food, the taste sweeter than normal from the sexiness of their significant other feeding them. Never once had you expected to do it yourself.

And, not once did you expect the feeling to be as phenomenal as it was.

Dylan would feed you the delicious cupcakes he made, the sponge soft and velvety, the frosting sweet and smooth. His fingers would always grace your lips, allowing you to lick them clean when he fed you the chocolate covered strawberries between cupcakes. His nose flared with heavy breaths, watching you suck his slender digits clean, a groaning grumble trapped in his throat. When there was chocolate lathered on your lips, he used that as an excuse to lean forward and kiss you, cleaning the sweet substance with his tongue before igniting a brief, yet always heated, kissing session.

Feeding him was equally as passionate - and ten times sexier. You were addicted to the way his plump pink lips would part as you tore a cupcake apart, placing it into his mouth. The corners of his lips curled upwards every time with a smile that could break hearts, your chest constricting with rapid heartbeats. Every bit of food you passed his way, he would leave tender kisses to the tips of your fingers, cleaning them of crumbs or chocolate coating. You were forced to wiggle around in your seat, heat pooling between your legs from the romantic, candlelit dessert you were sharing with your boyfriend.

The plate was cleaned of all the cupcakes, the bowls dotted with dark specs from leftover chocolate and the strawberry stems. The whipped cream and spare chocolate syrup were untouched, but you didn’t care. You were focused on the man beside you, his hand stroking the side of your face, curling a strand of hair around his finger before pushing it behind your ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, inching closer until his lips were nearly upon yours. They never connected, his lips detouring to your cheek instead, trailing down your jaw to your neck. You head tilted away, mewling softly at the way he peppered your neck with kisses, sucking softly at the most tender parts. “I love you.”

“I,” you started, gasping for air when he sucked harshly. “Fuck, I love you too.”

Dylan smiled against you skin, pulling away from your neck. His hands cupped your face, pulling you into him, connecting your lips together with a heated smack. Your arms instantly slid around his neck, your body pushing into him as best as it could.

The kiss started speeding up quickly, heads tilting to the side to allow for the maximum amount of space. Lips parted so tongues could twist and tangle with each other, tracing the inner linings of the opposite party’s mouth. Dylan pulled you from your chair eventually, your legs on either side of his waist as he sat in his chair.  Your hands roamed his shoulders as his ran up and down your back, eventually slithering under your dress to rest on your backside. Your bodies rocked together, your pussy growing wetter by the second. You were throbbing - aching for him, craving his attention and touch.

The kiss broke long enough for him to push the dress up your hips to your waist, finally pulling it passed your breasts and over your head. A shiver ran up your spine, your form bare apart from the panties that hugged your waist. Your nipples were perky from the chill of your home, breasts directly in front of Dylan’s face. However, his eyes moved up to yours after a brief moment of admiring your body, bringing your lips back together.

He stood from the chair with you still in his arms, your butt placed on the table. The kiss was broken, your swollen lips left vacant when he pulled away. A soft whimper left your lips, but the only reply you got from the noise was a single finger telling you to wait, the man rushing to move the china from the table. The chocolate and whipped cream were left where they were, making you skeptical to what kind of game was about to be played.

He was back before your eyes before you could blink, his eyes closed and his lips sealed against yours. A muffled moan rattled inside your throat, your hands first gripping the sides of his face to lure him in closer mid-kiss, before descending south. Rubbing at his shoulders, his posture sunk, relaxing into your touch and pushing himself closer. His pelvis knocked the table, the kiss broken momentarily for a burst of laughter. Slowly, our hands began to work at his shirt, each button undone with exact precision to reveal the collarbone, that was laced with kissed once exposed, to his stomach, that your hands gladly traced along, feeling his abs flexing under the tips of your fingers.

The man shrugged his shirt off completely, your hands already beginning to work on his pants. You only succeeded in undoing the button and drawing the zipper down before your heated kiss was broken, husky pants leaving his parted lips. You were pushed back onto the table, Dylan rounding the side to get a better look at you. He was mute, hungry eyes trailing along your form while a devilishly sneaky hand sought the chocolate syrup. Your eyes were wide and your mouth was dry, watching him hold the bottle between lanky digits. You quivered with excitement, ready for whatever was coming your way.

A loud moan left your lips shamelessly, head falling back onto the table with a thunk. Your back arched, your chest and stomach slathered in the chocolate syrup that Dylan poured from high above. Each drop rained upon you, creating lines of dark brown against your skin - circling your breasts, zigzagging across your stomach, and finally ending at your core, your pussy covered in thick chocolate. Dylan’s eyes were dark, almost the same shade as the chocolate that he had just covered you in. They were filled with hunger, his inner animal raging for a meal. He was salivating, a trail a drool dripping down his chin that he was forced to wipe away.

“So sweet,” he murmured, placing a swift kiss to your lips before travel down your body. His tongue roamed around your form, licking off the chocolate that stuck to your skin. His smile was obvious against your skin. “Mmm. Definitely sweet.”

You wanted to retort, but your words were caught, a moan leaving your mouth instead. The man was ravaging you, beginning his assault on your breasts, licking and sucking your body clean. The way his tongue traveled along your form made you shiver, feeling the tip of it lapping at the sensitive skin of your chest. His lips preferred to wrap around your pert nipples, sucking them until they were hard peaks, taut to the ceiling. His lips tugged at them with harsh kisses, red blotches from his mouth replaced the sticky substance that you were coated with. Each breast got equal treatment, Dylan loving your chest just as he always did.

He continued down, cleaning you as he approached your aching center. Your breathing picked up, heavy pants leaving your lips. You stared down at him, staring passed your body to see him sliding between your legs. Veiny hands pushed they further apart, his warm breath fanning across your sticky, wet pussy. Dark caramel eyes flashed your way with a mischievous glint before he sunk to his knees, only his hair in your view.

A loud moan filled the kitchen, your back arching from the table from the pleasure you felt. “Oh, Dyl!” you screamed his name, one hand reaching down to tangle through his hair. His lips were assaulting your core in the most wonderful way, kissing and licking off the chocolate that touched your clit before sinking his tongue into your wet core, swirling it around happily. He lapped at your released juices, slurping at each drop noisily. His moans of satisfaction were prevalent in the silence.

His mouth didn’t relent, attacking your core and your clit without remorse. His lips would tug at your swollen nub before his tongue flicked it around. His swallowed every drop that escaped your throbbing pussy, massaging the inner walls as he did. Your hand tugged at his hair restlessly, pleading for more, seeing stars from every action he did. Your stomach was clenching, the knot tightening with the threat of unraveling at any second. Your body was on fire, ecstasy on high.

Disappointment filled you. His presence between your legs vanished, leaving you cold. Your whimpers were silenced by his lips, the distinct clang of his pants hitting the floor when he wiggled free from them falling on deaf ears. Your body was filled with warmth without warning, your whines morphed into pleasurable sounds.

He filled you completely, his thick cock sliding into your moist core with ease. He stretched you wide, but it was something you were used to - something you enjoyed. His cock pulsated, traveling through your walls and into your veins. He stilled once fully sheathed, laying countless kisses to your lips. Your arms snaked around his neck, nails clawing at his muscled back before he could even start pleasing you more than you already were.

His thrusts started slow, his lips still loving your face. Hips bucked into each other, the table scratching at the floor when it shifted with your weights. You moaned for him - loudly. His name rolled off your tongue like a mantra, urging him to speed up, to go harder. And he did. The distinct clap of your hips against each other mixed with the noises you made and heavy breathing. The slap of skin on skin reverberated off the walls.

His cock slid in and out of your pussy quickly, his shaft covered in your essence every time he emerged from your depths. The tip sought your sweet spot whenever he sunk into you, finding its treasure easily. It was obvious when he found it, the loud screams you made as he thrust into you making his blood boil.

“Oh, fuck! Dylan!”

He grunted, signaling that he was pleased with the sound. He pounded you into the table, not caring about the strain you were putting on the wood. He only cared about pleasing you, making you cum, and even filling you with every drop he had until you were dripping, his cum spilling from your folds when he pulled out. He watched your breasts bounce with every hard thrust into you. He stared at your face, grinning at your closed eyes and swollen lips, parted with heavy breathing.

One last powerful thrust made your vision go black for a second, your juices spilling around Dylan’s erect cock. He groaned at the warmth you provided, cock twitching a few times before spewing his load into you, strings of white filling your womb. Your walls hugged around him, milking him for all he had - but it was only the start.

He pulled you up after he stopped thrusting and your body slumped against the wood grains. Your arms were around his neck, scratching at his back that was already lined with red marks from before. His arms hug around your waist, his cock still deep within your core. He pulsed inside you, your walls responding by squeezing at him. Soft kisses were placed to your lips, the smack prevalent in your ears. His lips were a drug; you wanted more.

“You know,” he hummed, pecking your lips repeatedly. “That chocolate is sweet, but I think you’re sweeter.”

“If that so?” you teased, resting your forehead on his when he nodded. “Well, I think the sweet one here is you, Mr. O’Brien.”

“Really?” he mused deeply. His tone was gruff, the husk making you shiver. “Care to prove it?”

You grinned, reaching behind you for the whipped cream that tipped over at some point, barely managing to stay on the table. You hummed playfully, placing the nozzle to your lips before squeezing, the white foam on your tongue. Dylan shifted inside you, grunting loudly. “I think I can do that,” you quipped.

Dylan pulled out of you, lifting you off the table wordlessly. You squealed, laughing as he trudged away in the direction of your bedroom. Your heart fluttered when you walked in, finding the bed covered in rose petals, your normal blue sheets swapped for a satin red. You were thrown onto the bed with a laugh, the bed creaking with the bounces from your body. He pounced - landing on top of you to share a kiss before rolling off of you.

Dylan laid at your side, one had draped over your stomach while the other kept him propped up. His eyes twinkled while staring down at you, glistening with a range of emotions - primarily love. The man took a handful of the petals around you, letting them rain over your form. The silky petals cascaded over your form, Dylan relishing in the laughs you let out while being covered in the red curls of passion and romance.

A slow kiss was left to your lips, growing fiercer by the moment. What started as a passionate connection turned heated, tongues tangling and hands roaming limbs. Legs tangled together in a heap at the end of the end, toes curling into the plush sheets that clung to your bodies from sweat that was already beginning to layer your forms. Hands wove through hair, messing up the chocolate colored locks that covered the top of his head. His larger, veinier hands caressed your sides, the sensation his fingers left making your skin crawl with excitement.

If Dylan had his way, he would be buried inside you again already, thrusting wildly with your legs bent over your head while you screamed his name at the top of your lungs. He would be pounding you into the mattress, the warranty on the mattress appreciated whenever he slammed you down and fucked you into oblivion because the wear was growing obvious. He would be filling you with his cum repeatedly, watching the cream ooze from deep inside you while your fingers spread yourself open. He would have it all; he would never stop.

But, that wasn’t the case.

He found himself on his back, grunting, groaning and moaning at the tender touches of your lips that flit down his body, leaving obvious red marks on his neck and chest. Your teeth nibbled at his skin, the scrape making his skin tingle. You were nearing your destination - the painfully erect cock that stood straight up, poking your stomach and seeping the glistening precum that made your mouth water. The tip was red and swollen, built back up for another orgasm, his thoughts of cumming inside you rushing the process.

He frowned when your lips left just prior to making contact. His eyes followed as you grabbed the can of whipped cream, spaying a bit of your tongue to coat your mouth in the milky substance. The man shuffled under your weight, cock twitching up and down with arousal just from watching you lick the white foam from your lips slowly. He didn’t utter a word, waiting to see what you were going to do.

Swirls of the white were left on his body - covering his pert, pink nipples, outlining every bit of his abs that were built from American Assassin, and around the base of his cock, running along the shaft to the head. He looked like the perfect sundae - just lacking the cherry on top that would be placed at on the tip. It was a good thing the head was already red.

A load moan ripped from his throat, his Adam’s Apple bobbing when he swallowed. This throat vibrating with the prolonged moans, his head falling back with eyes screwed shut. You started at his nipples, licking the whipped cream clean from his skin, sticking around to toy with the sensitive bud on his chest. He always claimed to hate when you focused on them, his body squirming with some form of discomfort from the sensitive touch. But, you knew the truth - he loved when you sucked at him, played with them. Sure, they were sensitive, but it made the man moan. It made your boyfriend groan. The hardening of his shaft against his leg was a perfect indicator, growing stiffer when you moved across his chest, stopping to twirl your fingers around the bundle of chest hairs he had, to the other nipple.

He watched through half lidded eyes when you traveled south, playfully cleaning off his stomach, kissing every spot you cleaned. He was eager to have you at the final spot, your mouth filled with his shaft. And as sexy as it was to watch you lick and kiss at his stomach, highlighting his well-earned muscles, he urged you down with a shove of the top of the head.

Getting a blow job was one of his favorite things. His head fell back just from your mouth around the head, cleaning the whipped from around him. The taste was a mixture of precum and cream, a sweet saltiness in your mouth. His mouth parted with a moan, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. His hand dragged through his hair, pleasure beginning to fill his body. You sucked at the head of his cock, tongue circling the sensitive head happily, smoothing over the slit.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted, biting his lip. “Just like that. Suck my cock, baby. God, I love when you suck me off.”

His words encouraged you to do more, cleaning most of the remaining whipped cream from his length. You began to bob along his shaft, cheeks hollowed for a tighter feeling. Your nose dipped into the whipped cream around the base, but that didn’t stop you. You were too busy savoring the taste of his sweet cock between your cheeks, your tongue tracing up and down his shaft as your swallowing him whole. Your mouth watered most of all from the throbbing vein you always found on the underside of his length, your tongue pressed flat to it as it pulsed on your taste buds. Tracing the prominent vein along his cock made him moan loudly, your body beginning to quiver and ache for more.

To clean him of the rest of the whipped cream, Dylan was thrilled when you began to deep throat him. It wasn’t something you did very often, but when you did, he was in heaven. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. You took every ounce of him into your mouth, nose buried in the dark hairs that curled at the base of him. Your tongue licked the remainder of the creamy substance from his skin, not daring to stop running along him. Dylan felt bad at the few gagging sounds you made, choking in his large erection that was stuffed down your throat, but you never ceased what you were doing.

Dylan thought you’d return the favor from before. You normally were the vindictive type. If he didn’t let you cum, you normally did the same to him. If he denied you food, you did the same. If he stole your seat on the couch, you’d steal his spot in bed. After the events in the kitchen, despite the wonderful orgasm you had from him fucking you senselessly, he figured you would stop, leaving him hung out to dry with an exploding dick. He hadn’t finished you with his tongue - so, why should you?

Yet, you didn’t stop. You sped up, pumping his shaft when you weren’t deep throating him. Your eyes were closed and your cheeks were puffed out around him. He had to push your hair back to see your beautiful face properly. The sight made his stomach churn, the knot that had been slowly tightening throughout the entire process finally at its breaking point. The threads were tearing and unraveling, splitting at the seams. His toes were curling and the muscles in his chest and arms were flexing. His eyes strained to remain open to watch before he finally burst. A blissful release swarmed his body, his cum spewing out to fill your mouth. Your mouth slowed to a stop, your hand used to pump every last drop onto your tongue, the sticky saltiness waterfalling down your throat where low moans were trapped. You drank up every last drop he hand, cleaning the tip with your tongue.

“Fuck,” he panted, pulling you up to his level. You tasted like him when he placed a tender kiss to your lips. “That was amazing.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” you mused, giving him a sweet eskimo kiss. “I always knew you were the sweetest.”

“I still think it’s you,” he laughed. “But, you know. I’m still hungry.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he murmured huskily. You saw his eyes darken, a sly grin on his speckled cheeks. “I think I’m ready for dessert.”

Rolling onto your sides, facing each other, Dylan planted a firm kiss to your lips, hands slowly descending the length of your body. Your groins rubbed against each other, the friction from the grinding making you wetter. Your leg was draped over Dylan’s waist carefully, your lower halves even closer than before. His hand found its way to the small of your back, pushing you flesh against you, your breasts smashed to his chest.

Low moans left your lips together, barely separating from his as his cock slid deep into your core. Dylan’s deep grunt rang in your ears, the slow push of his shaft between your walls - filling you to the brim - prolonging the noise. Once fully situated, he stilled, tilting your chin up to kiss your lips repeatedly. Your nose flared with uneven breath, pushing into the kiss as much as possible. Lips dragged against each other, the distinct smack from the connection bouncing off the walls around you.

The thrusts started slow, gradually picking up until Dylan was ramming himself into you wildly. Your leg and foot that were draped over his waist were flailing around with each push of his hips, heel slamming into his backside. Hips clapped together noisily, sweat making your bodies stick together before peeling apart. His long cock, covered in your arousal, emerged from your core, slamming back into you without remorse.

Your hands wound around his neck, fingers lacing through his hair. Giving it soft tugs, your mewls of happiness pushed him harder. You both panted, the bed shaking under your shifting weight. Short kisses were shared, Dylan leading the charge to please you.

You were shocked, yet delighted, when he rolled you onto your back once more. Still buried to the brim in your moist pussy, cock throbbing and pulsing against your walls, his hands reached for the straps that were forever connected to the headboard at this point. Not long after you being sexually active with Dylan, you had discovered the man’s kinky habits - one being the desire to bind you as he fucked you relentlessly. After a trial run, the straps were simply left where he could easily access them at any point.

That’s how you found your wrists bound above your head, unable to touch the flawless skin of your boyfriend. You were left helpless, under his ever-watchful eye. You were under his control, only able to scream as he pleased you. You submitted yourself to him, letting him pound you into the mattress.

“Oh god, yes!” you screamed, head thrown back. Your nails dug into your palms, unable to hold him and scratch along his skin like you wished. The thrusts were powerful, shoving your body deep into the bed. Dylan’s gaze swapped between your face and his cock, watching the way he slid out and the way it made your face contort in happiness. “Just like that, Dyl. Fuck me, just like that!”

“God, I love when you moan my name,” Dylan groaned, leaning back to adjust your legs.

Your knees were bent back, making your core tighter for the man pleasing you. His hands sat against the backside of your thighs, pushed them back and himself upright. Supporting his weight on his feet and knees, his thrusts became more abrasive, quickly and strongly pushing into you. The tip found your g-spot every time he slammed into you, the length of his cock sliding heavenly against your walls that clung to every inch of him desperately.

Your moans were dirty and loud, screaming his name incessantly. Dylan grinned widely, licking his lips. “That’s right, baby. Moan for me. Moan and scream my name like the dirty little girl you are. I want to hear you moan until you are cumming all over my cock again.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut. The husky from his voice and the seductive words he uttered made your stomach churn. It had already been tight with the coil that began to form when he first slid his cock into you, but you were on the verge of snapping. The way his cock slid in and out of you, the way he pressed into the spot that made stars appear before your eyes, the warm touch of his hands on your skin as he held you in place while making you his personal fuck toy.

You were done for before you could even utter it.

Uneven breaths left your lips as you came, spilling your juices around him. Your walls closed, hugging around him as you released everything you had along his cock, making it somewhat easier to slide into you. The warmth and moisture of your pussy, as well as the tightness, made the man gasp in pleasure. His thrusts grew sloppy, losing control quickly - but he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop until you were through your entire high and he had cum inside you once more.

He watched you writhe under him through your entire orgasm, your breasts bouncing with his thrusts, going from left to right as you wiggled through your high. Your hair was splayed across the pillows, rose petals twisted between the strands. Your body was glowing, partially from sweat and partially from bliss. Dylan loved the way you looked under him, left helpless at his pleasurable hand.

You let out a pleased mewl that overshadowed Dylan’s grunts when he came shortly after your orgasm had passed. His seed spilled out into you, white strands shooting from the tip and filling your core completely. His juices mixed with your own, warming your lower abdomen. His motions slowed, becoming a slow push that lasted until every last drop had been milked from him, the tip of his cock still dripping slightly when he pulled out. He was glistening thanks to the juices you left along his skin, the man admiring the outcome.

He left you tied up while rushing to the bathroom, returning to clean you of the mess he had made. The towel was casually discarded on the floor afterwards, your arms released. Dylan curled up in his normal spot, dragging the blankets over your sweaty forms. You curled into his side, nestled into his neck, ready to pass out from the exhaustion that was settling into your body.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered, pushing your hair back and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I hate you,” you mumbled, cracking one eye open to see him. “You gave me all of this. Now I feel bad.”

“Why?”

You pouted, huffing in childish annoyance. “You did all of this for me. Made us a romantic evening. And what about me? All I got you was a new picture frame and this little handmade jar of reasons I love you.”

“And I will appreciate it no matter what because it came from you,” he hummed with a smile. “For now, just sleep. You need it after your day.”

“Fine. But we aren’t done talking about this.”

“Fine,” Dylan laughed, holding you close as you fell into a deep sleep.

~

The smell of pancakes woke you up the next morning. Squirming in the bed, the spot next to you were vacant and cold. A low groan escaped your mouth while rolling out of bed, finding a button up shirt in Dylan’s closet that you swam in. It draped to your thighs, buttoned to your collarbone. You didn’t bother to find some underwear or a bra. You left the room in search of the sweet smell of food.

You stopped to admire the view in the kitchen upon entrance. Leaning against the door frame, you were greeted with the bare buttocks of Dylan. The only thing the man was wearing was an apron that said ‘Kiss the Cook’, the bow neatly done around his back. He was humming happily while flipping some pancakes. You could already picture the bright grin plastered on his face. The table was already set, bacon, eggs and cups of orange juice prepped for consumption. Plates were covered with napkins, and some fresh flowered sat in the normally empty vase in the center of the table. Your face flushed slightly at the sight of the table, remembering the ruckus that was made on it only hours previously.

He must have heard you walking towards him because he didn’t seem surprised when your arms encircled his waist, burrowing your face between his shoulder blades. A deep chuckle rumbled from within him, making you smile. He could only spare one hand placed on yours, the other carefully removing the last of the pancakes from the pan.

“Good morning, my sweetest,” Dylan hummed happily.

“Good morning, my love,” you replied, kissing his back. “I see you made breakfast.”

“Of course,” Dylan cooed, turning the burner off before turning around, your head now resting on his chest. “Nothing is complete after a romantic night together until you’ve had a fulfilling breakfast with the most beautiful girl ever.”

“Is that so?”

“It is,” the man mused, kissing you lightly. “Now, go get settled at the table while I finish the pancakes just the way you like them.”

“Chocolate, fruit and whipped cream?”

“All the things we just used last night for the best night ever,” was his response, shamelessly reminding you of the things you did together. Your face lit up, smacking his chest with your open palm. “Sorry, sorry! I can’t help but remember it!”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too.”

Sharing a short kiss, you shuffled your way towards the table, taking your normal seat. You watched Dylan from the corner of your eye drizzling the pancakes in chocolate syrup, cheeks burning at the reminder that he had just covered you in said chocolate, licking it off every orifice of your being. The proceeded with some chopped strawberries, and lastly, grabbed the can of whipped cream that was unopened in the fridge. Your mind was racing seeing the can, picturing the man nude in bed, dotted with the white cream.

Shaking your head quickly as he approached with the plate of pancakes, you grabbed the napkin from the plate, preparing to spread it over your lap. But you stopped. Under the napkin, on the plate, was a small black box. Staring at the box, your mind was racing with a million jumbled thoughts, none coming together coherently. The napkin slipped from your grasp to the floor, blinking at it.

“Dyl?” you started.

“Yes, my sweet?”

“What is this?”

Dylan looked to where you were pointing as he placed the pancakes on the table, his grin widening. “Why don’t you open it and look?”

Your mouth fell open. “You didn’t get me another gift, did you?” you whined. “Dyl, you got me enough already!”

“Just open it, babe,” he said calmly.

You frowned at his tone, taking the small box from the plate. It was velvety to the touch, fitting perfectly in the palm of your hand. It squeaked when you pulled it open, gawking at what was inside.

“Dylan…”

“Yes?” he hummed, almost expectedly.

“Why is there a ring in this box?” you asked, staring at the diamonds glistening back at you. The band was a sterling silver that shone under the lights above your head. There were 4 small diamonds lining the top of the band, twinkling in your irises.

Dylan smiled, hiding it with his hand. “Why else would I be giving you a ring?”

You blinked, staring at the ring before looking up at him with wide eyes. “Are you trying to say…?”

“Yes,” he finished when you didn’t complete you question. The man crouched beside you, taking the ring from the box in one hand and your hand in his other. “I’m asking you, Y/N L/N, if you will marry me. You make me the happiest man in the worst. You are the most unique person I have ever encountered. You are smart and funny and talented beyond belief. You are beautiful and I can never get you out of my head. I have enjoyed every minute of my life with you and I don’t want that to stop. I want to spend every day for the rest of my life with you. I want you to be mine until the day I die. I want to have a family with you. I want to marry you. So, what do you say? Will you marry me? Will you be my wife?”

At this point, you were in tears, the droplets rolling down your cheeks. Your cheeks were hurting from the grin you held, nodding feverishly to answer his question seeing as you couldn’t muster the words. Words came out as croaks, unfinished phrases of garbled mess. The answer was clear, though. Dylan sniffled slightly, holding back his own tears. His hand shook, slipping the ring on your finger until it was in place, perfectly fitting on your finger.

Your hands cupped his cheeks, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He was eager to return it, smiling against your soft, plump lips. “God, I love you,” he murmured into the kiss.

“I love you too,” you laughed. “You know, now we are that cliché couple that got engaged on Valentine’s Day.”

“Day after,” he clarified, giving you one more kiss before moving to his seat.

“Technicalities, my sweet.”

“Hey!” he huffed. “That’s my name for you!”

“Yeah, but I think you are the sweetest thing here after everything you did for Valentine’s day. This will be a day I will never forget,” you told him, flashing him a smile before looking back down at the ring.

“Well, exactly how sweet am I?” he toyed, leaning on the table with a smirk.

“As sweet as the chocolate on those pancakes that you aren’t serving up. Get to it, dude! I’m starving!”

“Fine, fine!” he chuckled. “How many?”

“All of them.”

“Why am I spending the rest of my life with you again?” he asked.

“Because I’m sweet,” you cooed.

“Damn straight.”

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#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien x reader smut #dylan #dylan x reader #dylan x reader smut #dylan smut #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien smut #dylan obrien x reader smut #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #mitch rapp #american assassin #stuart twombly #the internship #thomas #maze runner #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan fanfic #dylan obrien fanfic #dylan o'brien x reader fanfic #dylan x reader fanfic #dylan obrien x reader fanfic #smut #dylan valentines #dylan o'brien valentines #dylan fic

[jflashandclash]

Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun

Forty-Five: Euna

A Dream Catcher Would Have Been Easier

             Unlike the last two times Euna took Hemera’s god-enhancing droplets, Euna didn’t try to shut out the noise.

           She listened very carefully.

           As her feet struck the mud, she could hear the dying cries of the trampled grass and strawberry plants, some too mutilated to scream. She could hear the plants being crushed under Pax’s, Eris’ and Python’s foot—er—feet and snakely bodies? Yea, whatever. Those.

           The transition to god mode was much smoother this time. The first time, all the plants screaming had been deafening and overwhelming.  

           Now, Euna could hear, with clarity, Miranda, her sister, praying for vines strong enough to hold down Python’s tail and the cries from the plants. She could sort through those prayers.

           It reminded Euna of how she had tuned out years of her father’s scolding and Joey’s desperate mockery; Euna let her brain unfocus. The screams of demigods—those were outside her head, right?—those faded as easily as the hisses inside.

           This must be how it is for Mom, Euna realized when her emotions for the demigods turned to apathy, and she stalked towards Phobetor.

           Inside, she knew all these things—people, plants, whatever the difference—needed to die, because life relied on death. No animals could live without killing. No plants could prosper without taking the territory of another, without weeding out the trash.

           That’s what Euna was going to do. Weed out the trash. Though, that made it sound like a chore, and Euna hated chores.

           “Euna, oh Euna, my fair maiden—mf!”

           Euna shoved a white, blooming flower into Jack’s mouth, tired of hearing him talk. She didn’t need him right now.

           Phobetor stood ahead of her, a tall humanoid with a weirdly fused kiwi-bird-skull-plague-doctor-thing going on. He had recovered from where she drop-kicked him. He huffed and adjusted his Renaissance-style lord’s cap. “I beg your pardon?” Phobetor demanded again, hands trailing to his pink-and-green pokey-doted bowtie. “You’ll ‘start’ with me? Young demigod, I am the great Ikelos—“

           Traitor to the Second Titan War, Backbiter hissed in her hands. She swept the scythe to the side, rotating it. Although familiar as a farming tool, she wished it was more balanced for fighting or executing.

           The god seemed flustered when Euna didn’t break stride, though Euna couldn’t tell if that was from their proximity or if he’d heard Backbiter’s bitterness.

           “Kronos?!” Phobetor blundered, proving it was the latter. One of his hoofed feet took a step back and he put his piccolo-hatchet to his beak. “I’ll show you your worst fear—” he started to say to Euna, and—if she was correct—he sounded desperate.        

           “I’ve already seen that,” Euna said. With each step, long grass sprouted at her feet, exploding up to her hips. Strawberry vines slithered around the ground, slinking towards the God of Nightmares.

           Phobetor’s cheeks puffed and a high-pitched note pierced the air.

           A wave of exhaustion hit Euna but, the joke was on Phobetor: she was always too tired and in need of a nap.[1]

           Phobetor retreated another step. “Why aren’t you sleeping? You’re not a child of Hypnos[2] or Hecate.” He huffed, then raised the piccolo back to his lips as they curled into a smile.

           Another note.

           Euna didn’t care. She was almost upon him. The grass and vines had expanded to surround them. She stroked the rosewood box in her pocket once before settling both her hands on the cool shaft of her scythe.

           “Dunno,” she muttered, “Kinda hard to trick me when I know what you’re doing.”

           Hemera’s god-droplets probably didn’t hurt either.

           Shuffling nearby barely caught her attention. She didn’t need to look. The grass and strawberry vines alerted her to the presence of several sleepwalking campers.

           Phobetor’s smile crumbled when the strawberry vines snaked up and the grass bent to drag the campers into their thicket.

           Everything was so much quieter now with sleepwalker’s shambles silenced, so much more peaceful.

           Something leaked from Phobetor’s jester sleeves: aphids, beetles, caterpillars, and cabbage maggots. Things that were bad for the garden. “You are a demigod—one of Eris’ pawns! An upstart!” he cried, flinging them towards her.

           Desperately, she thought.

           Euna ignored them, doubting they were real, and not caring if she was wrong. Instead, she plucked a handful of seeds from her berry crown, things she’d been gathering during her and Jack’s trip, and tossed them at Phobetor.

           She closed her eyes, sensing his movements through his steps on the smashed plants and the pollen in the air.

           He turned to tar, assuming her attack was immediate.

           It hadn’t been. She’d been trying to learn from the whole “tact” thing that Axel taught her--the way Joey would analyze an opponent to find their weaknesses during a dojo match.

           Euna settled her hand back onto Backbiter’s long staff. She exhaled, concentrating on where her plants felt Phobetor’s presence and commanding her seeds to take root and grow. She needed Phobetor’s focus on her, so these seeds could expand. She couldn’t have them explode out like the walnuts trees in Santiago’s pyramid.

           Phobetor went to raise his piccolo-hatchet.

           Then she lunged, swinging her scythe in a wide arc.

           Her blade, Backbiter’s two-toned, blade vibrated with a solid strike.

           Phobetor screamed.

           When she opened her eyes, she saw Phobetor standing several feet back. His form was half-melted. Tar dripped off a vaguely humanoid figure, the colorful minstrel adornment unraveling into shiny dribbles. There was no face underneath the kiwi skull as it clattered into the grass.

           One gross, rippling hand held the stump of another. Snakes, spiders, and bugs spilled from it alongside golden ichor.

           In the grass, Euna could sense his dismembered tar-puddle limb and splintered hatchet.

           Ikelos, did you forget that I can permanently cut up a god, as I did Uranus? I told you my vengeance would be swift for traitors to my cause. Backbiter laughed. You coming here bodily was your end.

           Phobetor stood there, stunned. When he finally recovered from his shock—that Euna had something that could really hurt him—he tried to take a step backwards.

           His tar feet stuck fast. He glanced down in panic at the two splendid pitcher plants holding his feet in place—carnivorous plants with deep cavities in the shape of pitchers, dripping with sticky, digestive acid.[3] Massive flowers—stinking corpse lilies—sprouted all around the pitchers, reinforcing their weaker walls with two foot long red and white petals.[4] Tree roots erupted from the ground, twisting the petals together, pushing them up to Phobetor’s hips, sewing the pitchers and petals together like they were making a bodily cast for Phobetor.

           Although hard to tell with an overdramatic puddle, Euna thought he might be shivering. Rippling? Whatever.

           “You’re the one who gave us nightmares for months. You made my sister relive her death over and over again,” Euna said. With barely a tug in her gut, she commanded more corpse lilies to grow, encasing Phobetor’s waist and trapping his tar into a tightly-wrapped, leak proof, biodegradable package. Satyr-approved.

           “Demigod,” Phobetor said, his voice trembling, “This is most unwise! My father will hear of this!”

           She could feel Phobetor try to slip away. He abandoned his legs, letting the upper half of his body melt over the petals.

           She expected he would try to run. Gods didn’t need their full bodies to exist, after all.

           Euna waited patiently as part of his body sludged backwards over the corpse flowers and pitcher plants, dripping onto a larger, thinner leaf. When his melting torso made contact, the massive 10-foot wide gunnera leaf enclosed around him, making Phobetor release a muffled cry.[5]

           Vines and tree roots encased the trap, reinforcing it. At her command, they lifted the wiggling gunnera leaf up, plopping it on top of the corpse lilies to make another vaguely humanoid thing. He looked funny with pitcher legs and a wiggly leaf for a body. Joey would have called it gross.

           “The other gods will hear!” his muffled cry came through the leaves. “The Olympians will never rest until they know Backbiter is destroyed! Anything you do to me will get their attention—”

           “You talk too much,” Euna muttered. She knelt down plucking a smaller pitcher plant from the larger ones, and scooped up the tarlike essence of his dismembered hand before it could crawl away.

           “Getting their attention will save me time,” she said, setting Backbiter down. She withdrew her rosewood box and popped the lid open with her thumb.

           All the vines and flowers entwined in her hair dangled towards the opening. The vortex of Kaos inside greedily suctioned everything around them; the background din of screams and battle seemed to hold its breath. The waist-high grass rustled loudly towards them.

           “After I’m done here,” Euna said absently as she poured the essence of his hand into the swirl to nothingness. The Phobetor cocoon squealed, apparently able to feel his detached limb shatter into nonexistence. “I’m coming for the Olympians next.”

           Euna clicked the lid closed, tuning out his shrieks like she’d tuned out the plant and gardener’s prayers. The air around them seemed to let out a relieved sigh. She put the rosewood box into her pocket, then lifted up the scythe and groaned in annoyance. If only Persephone’s box had been bigger. Cutting the God of Nightmares into pieces to shove each limb into oblivion? This was going to take forever.

           Frowning, she hefted up her scythe to lob off a chunk of his head. Calex and the others better have something good planned for dinner, because after this mess she was going to be starving.

 ***

Thank you for reading! I’m sorry it’s running late. Things have been crazy *sweat drop* I hope you enjoyed despite the lateness! Stay turned (hopefully next week) for some back-to-back Ajax chapters, Keeping it Holy.

***

Footnotes:

[1] Mel betanote: She’s the hulk. She’s always mad! XD

Jack: sleeptime hulk.

[2] I mixed up the god and the Pokemon for a shamefully long period of time. I got really confused when “Hypno” kept coming up as an incorrect spelling.

[3] So, I’m a huge fan of carnivorous plants. Big pitcher plants are known for eating mice, bats, and rats. These can only be found in East Malaysia, but you can get cute, baby ones in lots of other areas. (Being a fan of cute rodents as well, I prefer the smaller ones that like to snack on mosquitoes and gnats).

Mel betanote: “Oh, okay. This is based on your interests. XD All I could think about was the pokemon version because of your last note.”

Jack response, “No Victreebel for you! Only hoards of tiny Oddishes!”

[4] Corpse lilies are the biggest flowering plants in the world and one of the strongest. Also, one of the worst smelling, emitting the unnerving stench of rotting flesh. It doesn’t help their reputation that they look like something from Little Shop of Horrors.

[5] Enormous plant from Brazil, also known as “dinosaur food.” Gunnera plants are thought to be 150 million years old.

#Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #Traitors of Olympus #PJO #HOO #fanfiction #Euna #Phobetor #DAMNNNN girl! #I'm so glad I managed to get this out this week T.T #Sorry for the delay guys! I had been on such a good roll for book 4!

[ryukoishida]

QZGS Secret Santa Fic: In which QYF is a CSI and MF is a lab tech and they go on an adventure to solve murder cases. [CSI AU]

Written for QZGS Secret Santa 2018 For: @synoshian

Title: Evidence of Things Unseen Fandom: Quan Zhi Gao Shou / The King’s Avatar Character(s)/Pairing(s): MoQiao (Mo Fan/Qiao Yifan); featuring other members of Happy Summary: One gentle, talented crime scene investigator + one brooding, uncommunicative lab technician + two murder cases = an unexpected blooming romance?! [CSI AU] Rating: PG13 A/N: A CSI AU that nobody asked for… Also, please excuse any inaccuracies in the science-/mystery-related stuff in this fic. I tried. I regretted only a little. Happy holidays, Lies! I hope you enjoy this mess of a fic :’)  

-

“Yifan, great job on solving the Liang Hailing case. Her mother gave me a call just now; she wanted to thank you especially for being so kind and considerate of her and her family during the investigation,” the graveyard shift supervisor of the Hangzhou Crime Lab, with a lit cigarette dangling from between his middle and ring fingers, complimented the newest member of his team with a proud grin.

On his messy desk was a name tag, scuffed on the surface and crookedly placed, informing the visitors of his office that his name was Ye Xiu.  

“T-Thank you, Ye-qianbei,” Qiao Yifan, the twenty-year-old Level II Crime Scene Investigator who’d only recently transferred to the Hangzhou Crime Lab four months ago, bowed slightly, always extra courteous to those of senior ranks. “It wasn’t just me though! The colleagues down in the lab had been very helpful and efficient — especially Mo Fan.”

“Did you say Mo Fan?” Ye Xiu raised an eyebrow, his tone remaining in the same languid, nonchalant manner of his but his piercing stare made Qiao Yifan shrank back a little as if he’d said something wrong.

“Y-Yes, sir,” Qiao Yifan nodded, the volume of his voice turning significantly lower than before, but he knew from working with Ye Xiu for the past few months that the man rarely got upset or furious, if at all, even when the investigations weren’t’t going his way, so Qiao Yifan continued gingerly, “he was the one who suggested to me the possibility of how the suspect used chewing gum to administer traces of cyanide into the victim’s body. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve never thought to check for the amount of xylitol presented in the victim’s oral cavity and connecting that with the suspect’s habit of always chewing gum.”

Ye Xiu took a drag from his cigarette before pressing the glowing tip against the ceramic surface of the ashtray and discarding the bud.

“Remember what I said to you when you first transferred from the Beijing Crime Lab?” Ye Xiu didn’t comment on Qiao Yifan’ compliment on Mo Fan’s part during this investigation, which the young CSI didn’t comprehend, but he replied as politely as he could anyway.

“That… I should be courageous?” Qiao Yifan said, recalling Ye Xiu’s simple words on the first day of his job. Qiao Yifan was a lab analyst at the Beijing Crime Lab, and though he did his job well, he was unable to stand out among the other talents in the lab, including his best friend Gao Yingjie, who, upon recommendation of the crime lab’s leader Wang Jiexi, had quickly promoted from his lab analyst role to a Level I CSI.

From the depth of his heart, Qiao Yifan knew working inside the lab alone wouldn’t make him happy; he could still go further, he could still do more – so much more. And that had ultimately became the significant turning point of his decision to move south to pursuit an opportunity that Ye Xiu and his team was able to provide for him.

Ye Xiu nodded.

“Yifan, you have the abilities and you work hard, so don’t be afraid to take credit where credit is due, all right?”

“Yes, sir,” Qiao Yifan smiled timidly, but Ye Xiu’s commendation had always been a shot of confidence that he needed.

Someone was knocking on Ye Xiu’s office door, the agitated rhythm signifying the person’s impatience, but the senior CSI ignored the distraction as per his usual habit when he didn’t feel like having any extra visitors.

Before neither man inside the office could react, however, whoever was outside had decided to enter anyway: the young man, dark forelocks haphazardly falling into his grey eyes, donned a pristine white lab coat, which contrasted starkly with the black hoody and skinny jeans that accentuated his willowy figure. Even without speaking, his body language exuded waves of hostility that most would sense and stay far away from. This could most likely explain why the twenty-two-year-old always kept to himself and would rather work alone in the lab, with earbuds on at all times while inspecting specimens under a microscope.  

“Mo Fan, what can I help you with?” Ye Xiu eyed the stack of papers in Mo Fan’s hand and could immediately deduced the intention of the lab analyst’s visit.

“Ye-qianbei, I’ll head out first,” Qiao Yifan was about to take his leave. It was clear that Mo Fan wanted some privacy to talk to their supervisor about something important.

“Yifan, you can stay. I still need to go over one of the reports you submitted last week. This will be quick,” Ye Xiu then shifted his gaze towards the lab analyst who only spared a brief glance towards Qiao Yifan before he trudged all the way up to Ye Xiu’s desk and slammed the document down.

Ye Xiu merely lifted one of his eyebrows, and said with an unmoved tone, “again? How many times does this make?”

“You know how many times I’ve applied,” Mo Fan replied coldly, hands stuffed inside the pockets of his lab coat.

“Are you trying to apply for a level one Crime Scene Investigator position?” Qiao Yifan’s curiosity was piqued, and even Ye Xiu thought it rare that the usually quiet and reserve CSI openly expressed his interest in his coworker’s career direction though he chose not to comment on it.

“What is it to you?” Mo Fan turned towards the other man with a hint of coldness in the metallic grey of his irises. His tone never rose above the volume of a mumble but the tenor with which he spoke was enough to coat his words in frost.

“N-nothing, I just thought… I just thought it would be nice to have you on the team is all,” Qiao Yifan murmured, shrinking back a little from Mo Fan’s intimidating manner, but he continued with a nervous smile, “I think you have what it takes to be a good CSI and it’d be a waste of your talent to be constrained in the lab.”

“Hmph.”

Ye Xiu looked between Qiao Yifan, the young and promising newcomer who was gradually coming out of his shell, blooming into an excellent investigator, and becoming an integral part of the night shift team, and Mo Fan, the brooding, aloof lab analyst who might be exceptional at his current position but didn’t understand the importance of communication and cooperation within a team.

“Do you know why I didn’t approve your application the previous two times, despite recognizing that you have the knowledge, skillset, and instinct of a CSI?” Ye Xiu leaned back against his chair, his expression slightly frivolous but his dark eyes were stern.

“I didn’t communicate well,” Mo Fan lowered his head. He knew what his weakness was, but to overcome it, to force himself to make his thoughts known to others was something else entirely. He wasn't good at conveying himself in a socially-acceptable manner and this often made people misunderstood his intentions, and while this could be troublesome, Mo Fan also didn't have the energy or the patience to correct other's views of him.

“You didn’t communicate at all,” Ye Xiu corrected with a sigh before pulling Mo Fan’s application documents towards himself. “Not only does that make the investigation process less efficient, it’ll also endanger your teammates’ lives in certain situations.”

Mo Fan flinched visibly when he mentioned that; he still remembered Fang Rui’s bruised face and broken leg was all a result of his own lack of communication with his partner at the time, that Fang Rui essentially got injured because he was covering his back.

Ye Xiu casually flipped through the pages of Mo Fan’s application, and said, lifting his gaze to look straight at Mo Fan again, “Yifan here was just saying that you’ve helped him out in his latest case.”

“I was just doing my job,” Mo Fan said, his brows dipping into a slight frown as if he was half annoyed and half confused as to why Qiao Yifan would even bother bringing him up in the conversation in the first place.

“Fair enough,” Ye Xiu nodded, “here’s what I propose: for the next case, I’ll assign it to the both of you; you two will work as partners while I observe. Yifan is the most accommodating CSI I’ve ever met so if he has anything negative to say about you, you’re out, got it?”

When Mo Fan forced himself to look directly back at his supervisor, Ye Xiu was surprised and amused to find the subtle determination burning in those usually indifferent grey eyes, and he thought perhaps third time could really be the charm.

-

When Qiao Yifan arrived at the crime scene, a stretch of deserted dirt road in the more secluded part of Jilongshan Village that led out into forested hills with very few streetlights in between — perfect for a body dump, really — he saw that Mo Fan, who he’d been trying to contact ever since he was called in to work, was already taking photographs of something on the ground.

The CSI approached his partner, the strap of his forensics kit cutting into his shoulder. When Mo Fan still didn’t acknowledge Qiao Yifan’s presence even after the younger man cleared his throat a few times behind his stooping figure, Qiao Yifan started in a soft voice, “Mo Fan, I’ve been texting you for the last half an hour…”

“I know,” Mo Fan murmured, and his camera clicked a few more times. Then about ten seconds later, he said in the same bland tone, “I was busy.”

Qiao Yifan could clearly see that, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he noticed that the assistant coroner had already arrived on scene and was currently inspecting the body. He gently tapped Mo Fan on the shoulder once, which was enough to cause the other man to freeze, and he said apologetically, “I’m sorry. Um… should we head over to the body? It looks like Dr. An is already here.”

Without turning around or establishing any sort of eye contact with Qiao Yifan, Mo Fan quickly pulled himself to his feet and made his way towards the victim. Qiao Yifan followed, his fingers tightening around the strap of his kit.

“When’s the time of death?”

An Wenyi almost lost his grip of the thermometer that was still stuck in the victim’s liver when he heard Mo Fan’s voice directly behind him.

“Hello to you, too,” An Wenyi greeted him warily, though his gaze never swayed away from the body before him, and he sensed the lab analyst settling to the right side of him.

“Only you tonight, Dr. An?” Qiao Yifan stooped across from the coroner and watched as the man continued to inspect the body.

“Hey, Xiao Qiao,” An Wenyi greeted the CSI in a slightly friendlier tone since Qiao Yifan was known to be a likeable and approachable member in the team, and the assistant coroner always enjoyed working with him. “Guan-qianbei has been called to another crime scene. It’s been a busy night.”

“What have we got so far?” Qiao Yifan asked.

“Rigor’s already long set in,” An Wenyi told them, pulling out the thermometer after taking the reading. “Liver temp puts his TOD at about two to four o’clock in the afternoon.”

Qiao Yifan inspected the corpse in a quick survey: for someone who’d been supposedly ran over by a car, there wasn’t a lot of blood on the concrete or on the body itself, and though there were clear tire marks on the victim’s clothes and half-dried muddy tracks on the road, there was a strange lack of headlights or taillights glass shards which was usually associated with deaths involving vehicle collisions.

It was almost as if…

“He was lying down when the car ran over him,” Mo Fan murmured.

“He was already dead when he was brought out here," Qiao Yifan concluded.

“Can you tell us what the COD is?” Qiao Yifan asked while taking more detailed shots of the body.

"I can tell you that the car did a lot of damage to this guy's body: broken bones, ruptured organs, the works. But like you said, it's very likely that he'd been long dead before the car ran him over so at least he didn't have to suffer," An Wenyi said, his gloved fingers carefully sifting through the blood-matted hair to reveal a much gorier wound on the side of the head. "Serious head trauma is probably what did him in — looks like he was hit by a blunt object — but I'll confirm once Guan-qianbei does a more detailed postmortem."

"Thanks, Dr. An," Qiao Yifan smiled gratefully at the medical examiner and continued to take detailed photos of the victim's wounds. He paused when he got to the fingers — they were rigid and dirty but the blue tint in the fingernails was unmistakable.

"The lips, too," Mo Fan said as if he was reading his partner's mind.

"Cyanosis caused by underlying disease?" Qiao Yifan tried to zoom in using the lens of his camera before taking a few shots.

"Unlikely."

“Then… poison?” Qiao Yifan tried.

The corner of Mo Fan’s mouth twitched slightly.

“Hey boys, looks like we‘ve got an ID,” a woman’s voice chimed in.

"Mucheng-jie," Qiao Yifan lifted his head up to greet the police detective, who looked especially elegant and sharp in a crisp white shirt, leather gun strap curving over her shoulders, charcoal grey dress pants and black ankle boots that emphasized the length and strength of her legs. She had a notepad in one hand and a pen in another.

“Evening, Xiao Qiao,” Detective Su Mucheng sent the CSI a bright, friendly grin before shifting her attention towards the other man, who turned his head abruptly away as soon as he detected the woman’s amused gaze. “And Mo Fan, what a rarity! What finally drag you out of the lab?”

Mo Fan didn’t even reply to the playful teasing before he turned at his heels and stalked away.

“Wait, Mo Fan, w-where are you going?” Qiao Yifan was a patient man, if not slightly soft-spoken, and Mo Fan was precisely the kind of person that made it really hard for Qiao Yifan to reach out to… Not that he wasn’t willing to try, because he was genuine when he said that Mo Fan would make an excellent CSI, but there was a limitation to what he could do at his own end.  

“Tire tracks,” Mo Fan only said, his voice barely audible over the scarf he was wearing over the bottom half of his face.

Qiao Yifan could only assume he meant he’d be inspecting and taking photos of tire tracks of nearby ground to determine the possible models of the car involved.

“Charming as usual,” Su Mucheng commented with a smirk, and tucked her pen inside her pocket before continuing, “I heard what Ye Xiu’s planning for him, but at this rate, the possibility of him passing the review is slim to none.”

“I want to help him,” Qiao Yifan sighed, his gentle gaze following Mo Fan’s figure in the distance, “but I don’t know how when he doesn’t allow anyone to get close to him.”

“You really care about him, huh?”

“W-what do you mean?” Something in the knowing way Su Mucheng smiled at him made Qiao Yifan paused, and his cheeks tainted pink with uncomfortable heat once he realized the detective’s underlying meaning of her question. “M-Mucheng-jie, don’t joke about something like that, please!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Su Mucheng laughed good-naturedly, patting Qiao Yifan’s shoulder like an older sibling would consoling her younger brother after a good tease, “you two just make it so easy for me. Anyway, as I was saying, victim’s name is Liu Gen, 40 years of age. His work ID says he’s an employee of Shanhu Machinery’s purchasing department. No previous criminal records, but his wife, Li Fangjing…”

Su Mucheng chuckled coldly.

“What about his wife?”

“Let’s just say his wife’s quite another story,” Su Mucheng said, shaking her head, “officers have already located her and are in the process of bringing her in to the station for questioning.”

“I’ll be there after the autopsy,” Qiao Yifan said.

“Why don’t you send Mo Fan over instead?” Su Mucheng suggested. “Being a CSI also required you to question suspects based on the evidence you guys found, right? It’d be good practice for him.”

“…sure, I’ll let him know,” Qiao Yifan felt anything but sure at this point, but he knew Su Mucheng was right.

-

Under the pale white lights of the examination room, coroner Guan Rongfei was cutting open his latest corpse, a white-collar worker by the name of Liu Gen. He was weighing the body’s organs when Qiao Yifan came in.

“Dr. Guan, I got your message. You mentioned you have something for me?”

Without a word or being diverted by Qiao Yifan’s arrival, Guan Rongfei merely angled his chin towards the metal cart to his left, where several labelled items were arranged neatly on the surface. The medical examiner wasted no time and began to report his findings to the CSI.

“COD is blunt force trauma to the head, which shattered the left temporal and parietal bones; the bone shards pierced into the brain and he bled out in minutes. No sign of defense wounds, most likely meant that the victim was already unaware of what’s happening around him or was immobilized through other means. There’s some black, sticky substance around the head wound; the sample’s on the table,” Guan Rongfei recited the information, not even cognisant to Qiao Yifan scribbling away in his notebook. “Broken bones and ruptured organs are consistent with being run over by a heavy vehicle while victim was lying flat on his back, but the event took place post-mortem. Also found some epithelial cells under his fingernails. And speaking of fingernails…”

Guan Rongfei finally lifted his head up from the scale after weighting the last organ, and turned to Qiao Yifan with a grin.

“Cyanosis — but no history of any chronic medical issue that could explain its presence,” Guan Rongfei analyzed, “so poison it must be.”

“Any clue as to what sort of poison?”

Guan Rongfei shrugged and returned to his dissection of Liu Gen’s body.

“Waiting on the tox report; I believe your partner’s working on it as we speak. After all, Mo Fan is the best toxicology specialist we have.”

“So, everybody knows…” Qiao Yifan sighed, collecting his samples and putting them into a small cardboard box for easy carrying.

“Ye Xiu believes in transparency within the team, if you can believe in that man’s bullshit,” Guan Rongfei said, his lips tucked into an amused grin.

“Thanks, Dr. Guan,” Qiao Yifan only said, heading towards the door to return to the lab to join Mo Fan.

“Anytime. Now get out of here so I can dissect this man in peace.”

-

Mo Fan’s phone was buzzing incessantly on the table when Qiao Yifan stepped into the lab, but the owner of said phone paid no heed.

“What’s… all this?”

After dropping off the sample of the sticky black substance to Trace, Qiao Yifan returned to his own workspace in the lab, where he was about to run DNA analysis on the epithelial cells Guan Rongfei had found in the victim’s fingernails, but instead he found boxes and boxes of what looked to be everyday household items stacked all over any available desk surfaces.

“Stuff I’ve picked up at Li Fangjing’s residence,” Mo Fan replied from his position at the counter, where he was administering some chemicals into vials of the victim’s blood samples.

“When did you—” Qiao Yifan was about to ask him when he had the time to go over to Li Fangjing’s place, but then he realized Mo Fan must had rushed over right after they were done processing the crime scene without notifying him. Again. “Never mind.”

Qiao Yifan began to set up his work station for DNA testing.

“How’s the tox report coming along?” Qiao Yifan asked instead, his tone slightly more strained than his usual milder manner. He carefully snipped off the tip of the cotton swap with the epithelial cells and placed it into a test tube, adding a few drops of clear solution into the vial before placing the mixture into the Thermal Cycler to amplify the segments of DNA he had on hand.

“Already did the basic screen,” Mo Fan said, his attention never straying from his task, his hands always steady and careful as he handled the specimens and placing them into the ultracentrifuge. “Nothing out of the usual.”

"Hey, Mo Fan," Qiao Yifan had nothing to do but wait for the result of the DNA analysis, so he attempted to initiate another conversation, "that must have been really heavy, to carry all that by yourself. Why didn't you tell me you were going to Li Fangjing's?"

"There was no need. I was fine," Mo Fan replied flatly, his body continued to move fluidly between putting blood samples into vials and putting them into the humming machine that analyzed and distinguished between the different toxins.

"But Ye-qianbei—"

"I know what Ye Xiu said," Mo Fan snapped.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overstep," Qiao Yifan apologized, instinctively shrinking back.

"That's why I can't stand people like you, Qiao Yifan..." Mo Fan muttered, his knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip around a glass vial with so much pressure the other man was afraid he would break it. "Why are you apologizing when you did nothing wrong? Why are you being so nice to me when..."

Qiao Yifan couldn't hear the remaining of Mo Fan's question, for his voice became softer and softer until it seemed like he was refusing to let any more words out of his mouth.

Mo Fan sighed, a hint of frustration in his exhale, and retrieved the toxicological report that the machine was sprouting out. He quickly scanned through the numbers and lines of text, his eyes narrowing slightly in concentration.

"Found our cause of cyanosis," Mo Fan stated, handing the sheet over to Qiao Yifan without meeting the other man's eye.

"Tetrahydrolozine… Isn’t that a vasoconstrictor? And that much of it too? No wonder Liu Gen didn't have any sort of defence wounds on him; he was already incapacitated when they attack him," Qiao Yifan shook his head, placing the sheet down.

"Eyedrops..." Mo Fan suddenly said, turning his eyes sharply towards the boxes of items that belonged to the victim and his widow.

"What about the eyedrops?" Qiao Yifan asked, curiosity obvioius in his voice.

"There were many emptied Visine bottles in their bathroom — way more than the suggested healthy dosage for two people — and I found more unopened bottles hidden in the storage room."

"So, you're saying the wife poisoned the victim with eyedrops, hit him over the head when the poison hindered his body’s movements, and then run him over with a car to make it look like an accident?" Qiao Yifan tried to understand Mo Fan's logic.

Mo Fan didn't reply him but he looked thoughtfully at the eyedrop bottles that he’d collected from Liu Gen’s apartment.

“Maybe not all of it… but the woman definitely poisoned him,” Mo Fan murmured, and gestured to the stack of files piled up on one side of his desk. “Previous cases involving Li Fangjing’s two late husbands; this woman is trouble.”

Mo Fan’s phone buzzed again for the fifth time since Qiao Yifan came in, and Mo Fan finally decided to pick up, but all he said was several ‘mm’ and ‘okay’ before he hung up again, his expression darkening just a little. He took off his lab coat and headed for the glass door without another word.

Qiao Yifan couldn’t help but ask, “where are you off to now?”

He wasn’t demanding an answer, but there was a hint of desperation laced in that question, as if the CSI wanted nothing more than for Mo Fan to include him or to tell him what was going through his mind. He half expected the quiet lab technician to ignore him again, so when Mo Fan paused by the door, a hand already reaching for the handle, and said that he needed to head down to the police station where Su Mucheng was about to question their prime suspect Li Fangjing, Qiao Yifan could feel himself smiling a little as he bade him goodbye.

-

Down at the police station located only a few blocks away from the crime lab, Su Mucheng and Mo Fan were sitting at the table in one of the many interrogation rooms across from a well-dressed woman in her late twenties.

Li Fangjing seemed at ease despite being notified that her husband had been found dead — possibly murdered — at the side of a deserted road more than half way across the centre of the city where he lived.

“Ms. Li, where were you yesterday afternoon from two to four o’clock?” Su Mucheng asked politely.

“I don’t understand,” Li Fangjing tucked a piece of hair behind the curve of her ear and crossed her arms, her eyebrows raised in annoyance. “I thought I’m here to help with the investigation of my husband’s death, but you cops make it sound like I’m the suspect here.”

“You are,” Mo Fan said without skipping a beat.

“Excuse me?” the woman’s tenor raised an octave higher.

“You are our prime suspect,” Mo Fan said, his expression remaining neutral and cold.

Li Fangjing laughed, the sound shrill and unpleasant, making Mo Fan wrinkled his nose in mild disgust.

“You’re serious?”

“We found extremely high levels of Tetrahydrolozine in Liu Gen’s system — enough to cause blurred vision, breathing problems, and coma,” Mo Fan said.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“The CSIs found many emptied bottles of eyedrops in the bathroom, as well as cases of unopened ones in storage,” Su Mucheng told the other woman, who still appeared to be nonchalant, so the detective continued with a smile, “and in case you don’t know, Ms. Li, tetrahydrolozine is the active ingredient in eyedrops, and we found your fingerprints all over those used bottles.”

“We both suffer from dry eyes,” Li Fangjing explained, rolling her eyes, her thick fake lashes trembling with the exaggerated movement. “I didn’t realize that was a crime, Detective.”

Both Su Mucheng and Mo Fan knew it was a weak excuse, but they had stronger evidence against her anyway, so they let it pass for now.

“No, dry eyes is not a crime, but let’s not forget Chen Guanghai and Tian Jing, hmm?” Su Mucheng flipped through a case file, and placed two photos down on the table — headshots of the deceased men who used to be closely related to Li Fangjing — and the detective continued, “Ms. Li, you were married to Chen Guanghai in 2015, and then he passed away due to a drowning accident in his own bathtub about half a year later. In 2017, you got married to Tian Jing, but he then also happened to pass away from accidentally slipping and falling head-first to the ground nine months after the marriage. And now, we have Liu Gen, your third husband to die within the span of four years. You are either very cursed, or you are an active participant in each and every one of these deaths.”

“What? Is marrying three men who died prematurely also a crime these days?” Li Fangjing chuckled, “goodness me, you law-enforcers just keep getting more and more hilarious by the second.”

“A person convicted of insurance fraud can be imprisoned for up to ten years,” Mo Fan added helpfully.  

“According to previous investigations, Chen Guanghai and Tian Jing had purchased life insurances and the beneficiary was always you,” Su Mucheng flipped to another page, which displayed copies of insurance contracts signed by the two victims, “so don’t tell me you don’t have the motive to make their deaths look like accidents in order to collect the life insurance payments.”

“If you cops had found enough evidence, you would’ve locked me up a long time ago instead of wasting my time here,” Li Fangjing lifted up one of her manicured hands to inspect her nails, painted bright red though slightly chipped at the tips, which Mo Fan immediately noticed as soon as his eyes settled on her gesture.

Li Fangjing lifted her gaze just in time to see the young lab technician staring at her hands, and a slow, teasing smile began to appear on her glossy lips.

“But if all cops are as adorable as this one here,” Li Fangjing nodded appreciatively at Mo Fan with a flirtatious smile and a knowing look, and said, “I’d love to come down to the station to chit-chat more often.”

Just then, he received a text from Qiao Yifan.

Found DNA match to epithelials under Liu Gen’s fingernails; it’s Li Fangjing’s.  

“I don’t see why I have to stay here being interrogated like a criminal any longer,” Li Fangjing pulled herself up gracefully, her heels clicking against hardwood floor as she turned for the door. “We’re done here.”

“We found skin cells of another contributor beneath Liu Gen’s fingernails,” Mo Fan’s words halted Li Fangjing’s movement, “they belong to you. Did he scratch you as he fought for his life after being poisoned? Did you hit him over the head when he fought back?”

Li Fangjing turned around sharply, a sly grin making her almost serpentine.

“My husband and I always enjoyed rough sex; he was a scratcher when he got… passionate. Would you like me to strip down and show you where he left his marks on me the last time we did it?”

As if she’d caught a whiff of Mo Fan’s discomfort oozing out from his body language and the grimace on his face, Li Fangjing was striding towards Mo Fan with a leering grin.

“You—” Mo Fan took a small step back — an entirely instinctual reaction when he sensed someone wanting to invade his personal space — and he hated himself for it, hated how weak he was presenting himself to be. Despite his best effort, heat pooled around his cheeks as a mixture of repulsion at the woman and frustration at himself simmered and burned like a violent chemical reaction.

“Thank you for offering, Ms. Li,” Su Mucheng smiled, stepping in front of Mo Fan to shield him; her manner remained pleasant but now there was a rigid, cold light to her eyes as well, “but that won’t be necessary.”

“Suit yourself,” Li Fangjing threw another knowing smile towards Mo Fan before she exited the interrogation room.

“Mo Fan…” Su Mucheng began, the ice in her eyes melted and was replaced with genuine concern, yet before she could even get a word out, Mo Fan was already bolting out of the door.

-

Mo Fan’s cell phone had been buzzing in his back pocket for the past hour.

Trace got back to me with the sticky black substance in victim’s head wound. Main components are pine soot, egg white, fish skin, white sandalwood, and pearl dust. I’m guessing: high quality calligraphy ink.

Found a jade paperweight amongst the things you collected at victim’s residence. Got traces of blood and ink on it. Will run blood DNA against both victim’s and suspect’s reference samples.

Also found a few workable prints on the paperweight. Will run them through AFIS to see if we have a hit.

Call me when you’re done down at the station please?

Mo Fan, Mucheng-jie told me what happened with Li Fangjing. Where are you?

He placed his phone screen facing down on the table.

The black coffee sitting untouched before him had turned grossly cold a long while ago, but he only ordered the beverage just so he could have an excuse to sit in the cafeteria, which had become rather quiet once lunch rush had ended. Currently only a few stray employees of the lab who’d worked past their lunch time were seen eating their late meals and chatting unobtrusively amongst themselves.

They knew not to approach Mo Fan from all the rumors they’d heard, and so he was left alone to his own thoughts, though not for long.

“You’re hard to find,” Qiao Yifan slipped into the seat across from Mo Fan, his tone quiet but kind, “I was worried.”

“Why?” Mo Fan grunted, lowering his gaze to concentrate his attention on the minute scratches on the back of his phone. They looked particularly irritating at this very moment, for some reason.

“Well, I mean, you’re my partner,” Qiao Yifan explained, his laughter taut and nervous, “of course I’d be worried. I heard what happened during Li Fangjing’s interrogation.”

“I fucked up. She got to me,” Mo Fan admitted in a low, frustrated growl, fingers gathering into a tight fist on the table, “I shouldn’t have let her, but I did anyway.”

“Interrogation is another set of skills all together,” Qiao Yifan tried to comfort his partner, “you get better at it the more you do it and get used to dealing with different types of people.”

“I bet you were good at it when you first started,” Mo Fan murmured. That was another trait that Mo Fan admired about the younger CSI, though he would never admit this to anyone; he had the kind of easy-going personality and agreeable manner that almost everyone felt connected to right from the start.

“Me?” Qiao Yifan chuckled, but it wasn’t the kind of warm, lighthearted sound that Mo Fan found comforting, and it made his heart clenched tight; it had a hint of self-deprecation in it that Mo Fan wasn’t used to hearing from the usually mild-mannered man. “Oh, no. I was terrible at interrogating suspects when I first started my job — couldn’t maintain eye contact to save my life, and the number of times I’d stuttered from nervousness? Don’t even get me started. My team supervisor from Beijing could attest to that.”

“Huh,” Mo Fan only made a small noise of acknowledgement. He never knew that part of Qiao Yifan; he’d always just assumed the man was a natural, but he supposed that assumptions without evidence were always too dangerous and led to inaccurate interpretations — just as the case with murder investigations and relationships between people.  

“Come on, let’s head back to the lab and see if we’ve got a hit on the print from the paperweight,” Qiao Yifan stood up and waited with a soft, encouraging smile.

-

“Mo Fan, Yifan, care to explain to me what all this is about?”

On Ye Xiu’s desk was a new case file showing photos of a very familiar face — a face that Mo Fan had just seen in the police station the day before — but now looking very much pale and lifeless.

Autopsy photos of Li Fangjing.

“She was found dead in her own home early this morning with a bullet in her chest and traces of clear liquid around her mouth. Day shift had already processed most of the evidence and had recorded their findings, but this is our case and I want us to handle it in the best way possible.”

Ye Xiu glanced over at the lab technician, who stared back at him blatantly with his usual indifferent expression.  

“Mo Fan, there are eyewitnesses who said that they’d seen a man with your physical descriptions talking to Li Fangjing outside her apartment complex last night and that the man seemed especially agitated during the conversation,” Ye Xiu’s tone remained disinterested, merely stating what the reports had told him, but the look in his eyes was critical and sharp. “Did you meet up with Li Fangjing by yourself yesterday after you and Detective Su finished interrogating her at the police station?”

“I did,” Mo Fan didn’t even try to deny it. He knew it was useless; besides, he had no intention to hide it either; he was prepared for the repercussions when he initially decided to do this.

“You are aware that you are never supposed to approach any suspects or eyewitnesses without the presence of a police officer, correct?”

“Ye-qianbei, please, there must be some kind of misunderstanding—” Qiao Yifan’s voice was tinged with panic when he realized what was about to happen.

“Leave it, Qiao Yifan,” Mo Fan murmured, “I don’t need you to defend me.”

To Ye Xiu, Mo Fan said, “yes, I’m aware. I will take responsibility for my own actions.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Ye Xiu sighed in disappointment despite his words, and he continued with a frown on his brows, “Mo Fan, you will be taken off from this case. I’ll assign Wei Chen to take your place, so Yifan, from this point on, you are no longer to report any case-related details to Mo Fan, is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the two men replied quietly.

On the way back to their office, neither men said anything to each other until they each settled into their own work desk, where Mo Fan was staring blankly at his computer screen and Qiao Yifan was fiddling with a pen restlessly.

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it,” Mo Fan heaved a small irritated sigh, spinning his chair around to face the CSI.

“You didn’t do it,” Qiao Yifan started, his gaze steady as he looked at the other man with firmly pressed lips, “I know you didn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Mo Fan said, chuckling coldly as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, “Ye Xiu took me off the case, which means I’ve failed the review.”

Which meant he’d lost another opportunity to be promoted into the CSI position he’d been striving for, Qiao Yifan realized without the man admitting it out loud.

He hated how defeated Mo Fan looked at that moment, the mask of indifference and composure showing cracks and crevices and threatening to break, and Qiao Yifan wished he could do more.

-

“Xiao Qiao, did you receive Li Fangjing’s autopsy report from Dr. Guan?” a man with a gruff, grainy voice stemmed from too many years of smoking asked the moment he entered the lab and threw himself onto the closest chair.

“Wei-qianbei, you’re back,” Qiao Yifan greeted the Level III CSI with a polite smile before turning his attention back to his original task of processing the new DNA samples and replied, “yeah, I have. COD was the gunshot to the heart, but so far, no matching weapon has been retrieved from the crime scene; the bullet has been sent to ballistics for further analysis. The clear liquid around her mouth is tetrahydrolozine, and there’s some traces of it found in her system as well, though not as much as in her husband’s body. Dr. Guan also found bits of flesh in between her teeth, which he believed was left behind by the assailant when she was biting whoever was attacking her. I’m processing the DNA now.”

“Good, good,” Wei Chen nodded appreciatively before heaving a heavy sigh. “Now that our only suspect’s dead, it’s back to square one for us.”

“Well… Maybe not entirely,” Qiao Yifan quickly sifted through pages of documents and located the one he was looking for, and he showed it to Wei Chen.

“You got something from the prints you dusted off from the paperweight?” Wei Chen was impressed with the young CSI’s efficiency, and he glanced down at the contents of the file.

“Yeah, but it’s strange,” Qiao Yifan replied with a slight frown, “I ran the prints through AFIS and it came back to this man here, Sun Xiuying. He was imprisoned for several accounts of identity theft, as well as weapon and drug possession back in 2003; he was released in 2009.”

The mugshot in the file showed a young man in his early twenties who’d experienced a harsh life on the street; his face was ruggedly handsome but it was marred by old scars and new bruises, and his eyes had the kind of haunted light to them that made people’s spines shiver and their instincts to scream for them to keep away.

“There was no trace of Sun Xiuying when the police searched through his last known address though,” Qiao Yifan said, “so I guess that’s a dead end.”

“Actually, you know what else has been bothering me?”

“Hmm?” Qiao Yifan wandered over to where Wei Chen was poring over a stack of documents, which turned out to be bank statements of Li Fangjing and her two late husbands.

“Check this out, this line here,” Wei Chen pointed to the one particular line on Li Fangjing’s bank statement that he’d highlighted in neon green. “This deposit was made one day after Li Fangjing had received payments from the insurance company. That amount was almost three-quarters of the total payment she got. The account number traced back to a guy named Zhao Yanglei. Li Fangjing claimed that he was a close childhood friend of hers who was experiencing financial difficulties at the time, so she sent him money to lend him a hand. But honestly?”

Wei Chen slammed the file close dramatically, the sudden loud sound startling Qiao Yifan, “I call bullshit. I mean, just look at these photos taken from security footage and the eyewitness accounts, and then try to convince me there isn’t anything even slightly romantic going on between those two.”

From the grainy photos captured by elevator security cameras, the man and the woman featured in the footage were clearly more intimate than mere childhood friends: the woman, a younger and more scantily-dressed Li Fangjing, was practically draping herself all over the man, her face buried within the crook of the man’s neck as they laughed about something only the two of them knew.

Li Fangjing and this Zhao Yanglei were at least sexually — if not romantically — involved while Li Fangjing was still married to Chen Guanghai and Tian Jing.

Upon closer inspection, Qiao Yifan thought the man’s face looked vaguely similar in that jaggedly charming way and the fox-like artfulness in his eyes was reminiscent of the man in the mugshot both CSIs had just seen — that of Sun Xiuying.

But before Qiao Yifan had a chance to voice out his observation, a series of beeping from the computer announced that the program had found a match to the DNA sequence that Qiao Yifan had input into the system half an hour ago. Qiao Yifan jogged over to his work station to check the results.

“Any luck with the skin DNA found in between Li Fangjing’s teeth?” Wei Chen asked.

Qiao Yifan’s eyebrows raised higher and higher in incredulity as he read the outcomes from his computer screen.

“Wei-qianbei, you’re going to love this,” he waved the older CSI over.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our long-lost friend Sun Xiuying,” Wei Chen whistled, clearly amused.

“Who’s also under the identity of Zhao Yanglei,” Qiao Yifan added.  

“Now then,” Wei Chen got up from his chair and cracked his knuckles, “shall we go arrest ourselves a murderer?”

-

“Hey, so what’s up between you and that Mo Fan kid anyway?”

“Wei-qianbei! What even… How…” Qiao Yifan babbled nonsensically, which only made the older CSI chortled in glee.

“So, there is something going on between you two young things!”

“I’m here, too, you know,” Mo Fan decided to make himself known in this conversation from the backseat of the Jeep that Wei Chen was currently driving.

“Wei-qianbei, please, can we just… concentrate on the task at hand?” Qiao Yifan begged, and then glancing briefly at Mo Fan through the rear-view mirror, he said in a slightly exasperated tone, “and Mo Fan, what are you even doing here? If Ye-qianbei finds out, you’ll be in so much trouble.”

“Never knew you had it in you, young Mo Fan,” Wei Chen, who was senior to both of his colleagues and so presumably to be the most responsible out of the three, was having the time of his life as he watched everything unfold. “Sticking it to Lao Ye, huh? Good for you, kid, good for you.”

“I can’t let you go into this by yourself, Qiao Yifan, I—” Mo Fan paused, his lips pursed as if he was forcing words back down into his throat.

“Wait, wait, there he is, I see him,” Wei Chen lowered his voice though there was no need to do so, but the other two men instantly perked up, “that’s him walking out from building 7025, right? The man in the hideous blue suit?”

“How long is it going to take backup to arrive?” Qiao Yifan asked, his gaze following the movement of their prime suspect.

“About ten minutes,” Wei Chen replied, and then he looked over at Qiao Yifan, who was already opening the car door and stepping out into the street, “Xiao Qiao, what the fuck are you doing?”

“We can’t let him get away, not like this,” Qiao Yifan muttered. “I’ll just stall him until backup gets here.”

“Qiao Yifan, are you insane?” Mo Fan tried to reach across the seats, but his fingers only caught empty air as the young CSI slammed the door close behind him without a backward glance.

Wei Chen and Mo Fan could only stare, flabbergasted, as Qiao Yifan crossed the street and calmly approached their target. The man seemed startled by Qiao Yifan’s appearance but so far, nothing out of the usual was happening.  

“Mr. Zhao Yanglei?” Qiao Yifan asked.

“Yeah,” the man looked him up and down unabashedly, his dark eyes narrowing in suspicion when he asked, “who the hell are you?”

“Crime Scene Investigator Qiao Yifan,” he introduced himself formally, his signature friendly smile firmly in place. “I’d like to ask you a few questions pertaining to Li Fangjing’s murder. You are, after all, acquainted with the victim, correct?”

“That’s right,” Zhao Yanglei nodded slowly, his previous cautious expression turning into that of a mourning lover. “Anything I can do to help capture whoever killed Fangjing.”

“Great,” Qiao Yifan sounded relieved, “on behalf of my team, I’d like to thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Zhao.”

“Of course. Mr. Qiao, if you don’t mind, I’d rather us do this in the comfort of my own home. Is that all right?”

Qiao Yifan only hesitated for half a second before he assented. The gun strapped to his hip felt heavier than before.

“Wait, where’s he going with the bastard? What is he doing?” Wei Chen was pressing his face against the car window as he watched his younger colleague follow their murder suspect into the apartment building that Zhao Yanglei was just getting out from minutes ago. And then he heard the back door opened and closed, and Mo Fan, dressed in his usual black jeans and hoodie, was seen following the two into the building after he clumsily showed his badge to the doorman.

“Oh, for fuck’s sakes, don’t they know my elderly heart can’t take any of this hot-blooded excitement anymore? Damn.” Wei Chen radioed for backup again.

When Mo Fan got to the front door of Zhao Yanglei’s unit, the door left slightly ajar, he stopped dead. He realized belatedly that he was probably making a big mistake — a mistake that might even cost him his life — but he was already here, and even though he wasn’t armed with a gun or anything that could even act as some sort of weapon, Mo Fan was fuelled by the need to protect the man with the kindest, most dedicated heart and the sweetest, most genuine smile.

Mo Fan pushed the door further apart and stepped in. For a long second, he couldn’t hear anything, but then Qiao Yifan’s voice — muffled by the wall of being in another room — floated down the hall towards him, pulling Mo Fan closer to where Qiao Yifan must be.

“How could you do that to her?” Qiao Yifan sounded raspy, almost like he was struggling to breathe, and Mo Fan hurried his pace. “She was clearly in love with you, so much so that she was willing to commit crimes to please you, but in the end, all you gave her was a bullet to her heart.”

A dull thud of metal against flesh. An uttered groan of pain in response.

“Ha, you think she loved me? Is that it?” Zhao Yanglei’s voice was growing louder and more irritated the closer Mo Fan was getting. “Little boy, you don’t know anything, do you? I don’t need a woman who blabbed her mouth to any attractive man that bitch sets her eyes on; she’s a liability. Look where she got me. But this ends here.”

Another solid blow. Another groan of stifled agony, and then the sound of a body hitting the ground.

And this was what Mo Fan saw when he finally found them: Qiao Yifan lying limply on the floor, face turned sideways and his eyes tightly shut, with bruises blooming on his cheeks and blood trickling from his temple, and Zhao Yanglei towering over him as he aimed his gun at Qiao Yifan, a crazed glint in his eyes while he unlocked the trigger safety.

Somehow, Mo Fan was able to force his legs to move despite the buzzing in his ears and the conflicting thoughts of knocking down Zhao Yanglei first to dislodge the gun from his hands and rushing over to Qiao Yifan to make sure he was all right clashing messily in his mind.

He only remembered a loud boom that exploded by his ears, like thunder or fireworks bursting directly above his head — too much and too close — and then everything turned into a blur.  

-

His head felt heavy like he’d been asleep for a decade, and his bones were aching from staying upright in the same position for too long. As he gradually become more aware of his surroundings, he could sense the humming of the medical equipment, the quiet murmuring of the nurses and patients, and the sharp tang of antiseptic in the air. He was in a hospital.

And then he heard an all too familiar voice, but he wasn’t talking to him.

“Yifan, if backup hadn’t arrived on time, do you know what could have happened?”

“I’m sorry, Ye-qian bei,” Qiao Yifan murmured.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you. I never saw you as the type to rush into a situation so recklessly like this,” Ye Xiu continued, but then he glanced over at the still asleep Mo Fan before shifting his gaze back to his subordinate, his expression one of sudden comprehension.

“I’m sorry,” Qiao Yifan said again.

Ye Xiu sighed.

“You do realize that you’ll be expected to write an introspection report once you’re released from the hospital.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I should demote you,” Ye Xiu muttered, mostly to himself, “the higher-ups would want me to do that, but fuck them. You played a significant role in solving the two cases and apprehending the killer. And Mo Fan, when are you going to open your eyes? It’s incredibly rude to eavesdrop on other people’s conversation.”

“Tsk,” Mo Fan blinked his eyes open, the white florescent lights overhead momentarily blinding him until he made out the shape of Ye Xiu standing by the bed and Qiao Yifan leaning against two pillows on said bed. The bruises hadn’t had time to fade away yet, but he had bandages wrapped around his head, which made his short hair curled in adorable messy swirls that Mo Fan had a sudden urge to touch.

He nipped the buds of those strange thoughts as soon as they rose up in his mind.

“And I suppose congratulations are in order, Mo Fan. Once you pass your gun licensing exam, you’ll be officially promoted to being a Level I CSI.”

Mo Fan blinked again.

“Wait… what?”

“You heard me,” Ye Xiu said, grinning.

“But… you kicked me out of the investigation,” Mo Fan was still muddled.

“Young people these days sure are forgetful,” Ye Xiu shook his head in mock disappointment. “I said you would not be considered only if Yifan has anything negative to say about you. Well, Yifan hasn’t said anything to me, and you two caught the murderer. That’s all that matters in the end, isn’t it? So, there you have it.”

Ye Xiu was about to head out through the door when he turned back to Mo Fan and said, “you also owe me an introspection report, so get on that as soon as you get back to the lab. I’ll be leaving for today.”

Mo Fan sank further back into the chair, and Qiao Yifan chuckled at the dumbfounded expression on the usually aloof man’s face.  

“Congratulations, Mo Fan,” Qiao Yifan said, a warm smile lighting up his face and even through the cuts and bruises, Mo Fan thought the other man looked beautiful.

There went another strange thought.

“Thanks,” Mo Fan murmured, cheeks heating up slightly. “I owe it to you, I guess.”

“I should be the one to thank you,” Qiao Yifan said, scratching the back of his neck self-consciously, “I don’t know what I was thinking, going along with the suspect like that. If you hadn’t been there…”

“Yeah, you definitely weren’t thinking then,” Mo Fan said, his lip curling up into a smirk. “Just don’t do it again. You might not be that lucky next time.”

“I’d trust you to always have my back though,” Qiao Yifan admitted, and then perhaps realizing he was revealing too much, he turned his head away in silence.

“Thanks, Qiao Yifan, for trusting me,” Mo Fan said, his voice losing that cold apathy that usually drenched like ice water in his words, and Qiao Yifan turned towards him to see the other man smiling — truly smiling for the first time since they met, a timid, little curve like the gentle arc of the crescent moon.

“I will never let you down.”

#qzgs #tka #qzgssecretsanta2018 #tkasecretsanta2018 #qiao yifan #mo fan #moqiao #bowie's crappy writing

[asakamasanobu]

a few days ago i was doing one of those “which x are you?” quizzes for fun and when i say fun i don’t mean the actual process of choosing questions bc 90% of the time it’s pop culture that the mf living under a rock (me) has no clue about or 10 extremely lengthy options that i do not particularly relate to but then have to decide which one resonates with me the most when none really do and that’s not really all that fun but !!! but there was one question that asked “what do you want to know right now more than anything else” and the moment i saw it i answered right away without any hesitation. and it really stayed with me bc it’s one of the rare times a silly little quiz has an option that completely resonates with me, and that is “to know if i’m on the right track”

“girl where are you going with this what does this have to do with your BL interests” SO MUCH ACTUALLY last year i was a wreck and didn’t know how i was to go about living my life as the person i am without hurting myself and others in the process of it and that’s when i met asaka. his way of living and loving gripped me with such force, it awed me and humbled me and inspired me and told me there was a way ahead. that you needed to focus on yourself and becoming a better person first, to be alone and be comfortable with being alone and to never let your feelings overwhelm and inhibit the people you love. it’s kind of a wack way of doing things too but it’s what made him strong and kind and beautiful and i wanted to emulate those traits of his that i didn’t have. and that’s why i’ve been able to get up and walk forward until i no longer felt the hole in my heart.

but even then i don’t know if this really is the right path for me because . like i said it’s a wack ass way of doing things and sometimes in retrospect i think about him and i’m like oh my god what the fuck are you doing !!!!!! you’re just hurting yourself loving like this !!!!!!! stop it stop isolating yourself and repressing your feelings and prioritising others first !!!!!!!!! and i see the world changing so fast in front of me and even though the same pain that would’ve dealt a lethal blow now only deals a numb ache i still wonder if i’ve grown at all .... if putting on a strong front like asaka does will ever transform into true strength from within

but then yesterday i read the asaka bits of vol 4 again and cried so much .. i even hyped myself up to finally read his rejection scene and i saw so much all over again that reaffirmed that he’s always been right in the way he does things. this is a path that fits him. even if he’s just clinging to things to move forward instead of relying on himself, it’s truly a noble way of holding yourself together and being strong without hurting others and instead being their light .... he’s just so overwhelmingly kind even though ugliness and pettiness and jealousy lingers within him and so much of his kindness comes from how he clamps down on that part of himself. it’s the only way for him to move forward, and it fits him to a T.

i felt so much of him during this particular read through like bitch was crying all over herself even before she got to the rejection scene ...... the way he puts wataru first before his love so he doesn’t hold him back and when he hears that wataru did the same thing he ends up staying back to support wataru because he knows the pain and loneliness of doing that. because as good as it feels to have inspired someone with your kindness, you know more than anyone how much it hurts to be selfless and your first thought is to make sure wataru is okay, even if no one is making sure you’re okay. the way even though he thought he crushed every final thread of hope in his heart, the moment it’s dangled before his eyes he can feel himself succumb to it and it takes everything for him to hold onto his pride and tell shohei that he wouldn’t stoop low enough to simply wait until wataru falls out of love to swoop in. because he’s told himself he’s okay with unrequited love, as long as he’s still able to contribute meaningfully to the life of the person he loves. and the way he’s stupidly sentimental about things too like wanting to have a final handshake with wataru with his left hand, because it’s the first place he ever touched wataru. it’s really about carving meaning into your life and i think it added so much weight to that scene when asaka requested wataru take off his ring (aka a symbol that he’d never be asaka’s) and then his worst side slipped out where he didn’t want to give back the ring (even though it’s so fucking obvious that as much as that’s a real thought of his, it’s not something he’d ever do and i don’t know how to explain it but i am obsessed with how this raw part of him was presented while also preserving his true, kind of self but also when i thought about how sentimental he is with the shaking left hand thing i had to smush my head into my pillow to stop myself from screaming he is just like me is2g)

so asaka cryposting out of the way and back to the internal dilemma i think . rereading the scene i was afraid of reading and remembering all the little moments that i’ve forgotten has reaffirmed that as godawful as asaka’s way of living is it’s definitely the right track for him. i think he’s strong enough to turn that into an internal strength that drives him on. and i think sometimes i idealise him too much in imagining him as a perfect being who makes fucked up decisions sometimes but only acts kindly when in truth he struggles with such self-hatred and longing and bitterness a lot too like it’s very thinly implied but it’s there .... or at least in my reading and it’s definitely like what wataru says about how asaka is not a villain and that’s why it makes things difficult :’-) because he’s a good guy through and through, yet even good guys go through the immense pain of choosing to be good, always

#at this point in my life where if anyone says asaka is evil i’ll fight them to death #like is it hypocritical for me to kind of dislike nao and iokawa for forcing kisses on others but rooting for asaka ??? maybe but CONTEXT #it’s always how he never does things maliciously or to prove himself as better than others it’s simply for himself or bc he lose control #cries ;__; #would also like to say that i’m so glad i have both him and ricchan in my life #yesterday i was like ah . i will definitely be seeing asaka as my therapist today he’ll know how to handle shit #like ricchan is my fix-all but sometimes i just know when asaka will hit so fucking hard and god he really did #i’m going to continue down this track too bc it’s the only path i know

[l0nd0ninnit]

Bonkai Reunion 8 x14 (Part 3)

 How the Tables Turn 

I want you to take a moment to focus individually on Kai and Bonnie’s expression in the gif below as I believe it is one of the most important moments between them in the scene. And it affects how the last bit of their conversation plays out

Kai has the look of desperation on his face. As I said in part 2, Kai is not thinking. He doesn’t care how he appears to Bonnie because he will do anything in that moment to prevent her from leaving him.  In spite of being chained, poor baby attempts to move the chair closer to her as if that will help him...that is how much he wants her stay. Meanwhile, Bonnie 

Bonnie is like...

Yes, Kai? You want me to...what? Stay? I can’t hear you! I want to hear you beg for it...

Bonnie seems to really enjoy the power she has over Kai. She seems to enjoy it a bit too much and it is in this moment that I thought, what is she playing at? why is she there? Not that I am complaining, I love that they are interacting, but she could have went about this a different way. It was only yesterday that she wanted nothing to do with him and now she is practically dangling herself in front of him like...

I know you wanted to see me Kai so here I am....I know it has been years, but don’t I look beautiful? Don’t I just exude confidence and a hint of mystery? Am I still you weakness? 

You can’t have me tho...oh, you thought this would end with hate sex?...I don’t know where you could have possibly got that impression. No, no, no, I am just here to tell you that I created another prison world for you. In fact, we are in it right now and this time you can’t escape. 

If Bonnie didn’t want to see him, she could have wrote all she wanted to say in a letter and left it for him to read and yet....there she was, standing in front of him. Why? 

Yes, I know. The writers need Bonnie to be there in order for her to learn about Katherine and then tell the rest of the gang. I understand that, but she seems to go to such lengths just to tell him that he is fucked. She devised this elaborate plan where she has to make an ascendant, create a prison world and find out what song he hates the most....all of this requires time and energy. 

I have to reiterate the importance of her location choice, the chains and her behaviour because it is all extra. Kai must have taught her well because that is something he would do. 

I mean Bonnie literally makes an alcoholic beverage for him and puts it on the table so that if he wakes up and looks to his left, he sees it.

And then she had to think about which chair she would chain him to and where she would be when he wakes up...I wouldn’t be surprised if she thought about what she would say to him and how she would say it before she turned the music on. 

You would think she would just kill him again and get on with it. Why waste time on Kai when she could spend that time with her boyfriend in the dimension she created?  

If I had to choose between making someone I hate suffer more than they already had in Hell and spending time with my boyfriend, who was killed recently and is the love of my life, I wouldn't hesitate to choose the latter.

It is almost as if she was compelled. She wanted to tease Kai and see the power she has over him. She needed to see his face as she told him the news.

Is it possible that Bonnie actually misses playing these games with Kai? That perhaps he has become her favourite opponent? And that no one can give her this feeling of satisfaction that Kai gives her when she beats him? 

I know it seems strange for her to feel that way when she supposedly hates him, but there is no other explanation for why she would bother

And this is what Kai sees in the first gif  that Bonnie really enjoys what she is doing to him He is in mid-sentence when he realises this.  Unfortunately, we will never know what he was about to say  It could have been:

I--I don’t want you to leave me  I--I want you to stay 

or he may have wanted to tell Bonnie about Katherine but offer to help defeat her 

Again, we will never know because when Kai sees that look, suddenly he changes  Kai is like....

Wait...she wants me to beg and plead for her to stay. She knows I have a soft spot for her and she enjoys seeing me suffer. Well, I am not going to give her the satisfaction. I am NOT going to appear weak. I am NOT going to show her that I care. I am Kai fucking Parker. If she is going to play me like that, I am going to make her feel what I felt. I am going to top her last move. She thinks she has checkmate me? I am going to turn this checkmate into a stalemate. 

The change is so sudden that Bonnie is now curious as to what is happening

Why has he stop begging?

Now it is time for Kai to make his final move...

Does this look like a genuine laugh to you? Do you think Kai thinks what he is saying is actually funny? Maybe he would have thought it funny if he was in a different situation. If it would somehow change the fact that he will still be in a prison world by the end of this conversation, then maybe he could really laugh at the MF gang for thinking Hell no longer exists, but he can’t change his fate. 

No matter what he says to Bonnie, he is still in a prison world. So you know what this is...this is a hollow laugh. We all know that laugh. The laugh someone uses when they are hurt and try to play it off just before they say their response which they hope will make the other person hurt more. 

This laugh is used as a ploy to get Bonnie to turn around and to erase his moment of vulnerability. To pretend it never happened and make it look like it was all an act leading up to this moment.  

As if he had the advantage the entire time. 

And it works...Bonnie has been pulled back into the chess game, but this time the power has been passed to Kai. Now she is the one that waits for him to reveal whatever information he has been holding on to 

However, Bonnie has been playing this game long enough with him to know that in order for her not to hand over all the power back to Kai, she has to maintain her composure. She must not show that she is vulnerable like he had a few seconds ago. She has to turn around and put on a face that says 

Go on, go on....say it! I can promise you that no matter what you say, I will never release you from your chains and let you leave this prison world 

She must hide that she is annoyed. She must hide that she is afraid of what he might say next. She must hide the fact that she knew the risk she was taking when she decided to play the game this way, yet chose to do it anyway, because she too revels in winning the game as much as Kai does. 

This will never be shown on TVD, but maybe in a fanfic somewhere, I imagine there will be a moment following this scene when Bonnie looks at herself in the mirror and wonders why she felt euphoric watching Kai squirm.  Maybe she will acknowledge that darkness and power tempts (or what she views as darkness) her and that she never felt as exhilarated as she did when the power is all in her hand. When she is a badass witch and doesn’t feel guilty for being selfish or finally putting herself first. 

Anyway so Bonnie prepares herself for the worst because she knows she hurt Kai and she knows he is going to be extra about his response 

How does she know that? 

It has happened many times before 

I used two examples, pre-merge and post-merge Kai because 

   - What has always been consistent is Kai’s reaction when Bonnie hurts him 

If Kai didn’t have a soft spot for Bonnie then there wouldn’t have been a flicker of emotion to show that he cares and he wouldn’t have tried to make her feel what he felt 

Notice that each time Bonnie says something that hurts Kai, he will do this thing where he will look down and then look back at Bonnie again or he will look at Bonnie for a moment and then look down. 

Then immediately or shortly after, he will respond in an extra way to conceal that she affects him. 

In the scene above, Kai pretends he is okay and pretends he is willing to do what Bonnie asks of him only to then say that he doesn’t need a Bennett witch and leaves her in the prison world. 

Why eat with her and tell her about his sad past if he knew he would leave her after that moment?

Kai is dramatic. He likes games so he is going to draw it out and be extra about it 

I think Kai wants to spend more time with Bonnie 

I think a part of him hopes he can change her mind and she can help them leave the prison world together 

Now in this scene, he doesn't physically hurt Bonnie, but he does go on about how no humanity Caroline might kill her to wipe that smirk off of Bonnie’s face and to get her to realise that she does need him. 

I think Chris chose to play Kai somewhere in the middle of these two similar but different reactions because he is not pre-merge or post-merge Kai anymore but post-Hell Kai. 

Which takes us to the look in this gif ^

He was laughing but abruptly stops. He looks down because the laugh was never real to begin with and he can no longer force himself to fake it. He knows what he has to do, but it does not get rid of the feeling that he wishes it would go differently. He gathers himself and then looks up at Bonnie with a look that says 

Good, now that I have your attention...

I need to say this before I move on to what happens next: I want you all to take what Kai’s says about Katherine with a pinch of salt because it is fuckery. I LOVE Katherine, she is one of my favourite characters on TVD, but even I was like...are we talking about the same person? Has there been another Katherine on this show that I am not aware of? I know it has been a long time since I watched s1-s5, but I don’t remember Katherine possessing some of the qualities Kai ascribes to her. 

So I am going to call it out for what it is: 

Fuckery!  It is obvious that they, and when I say they I mean Plec, are inserting her in this plot line for ratings just like Kai. It is TVD’s last season so they probably were like...

Fuck it, let us bring back these two popular characters whose story we fucked up the first time, and fuck them up some more again. 

I understand what the writers had to do in this scene. I understand the purpose of Kai’s lines were to 

Create excitement in the audience for the fan favourite’s return by stating alternative facts

They need Kai to be the character to say it because they both were in Hell and it makes the reveal ambiguous at first...is Kai referring to himself or someone else? 

And they were willing to write it in at the expense of creating more plot-holes because again, when has TVD ever valued consistency? OK. Fair enough. I expect nothing less from them so this is when the importance of talented actors come in. It doesn’t matter what the writers’ intentions were, if the delivery of the lines says something very different. If the script says the character passionately screams to the other character, ‘I love you’ and the actor decides to deliver that same line in a monotone voice then we, as an audience, can only interpret it as it is shown on screen because we will never read the script. 

Therefore, I hope my interpretation of this scene makes you feel a tad bit better the next time you choose to watch it because my analysis focuses on Chris’ delivery of Kai’s lines and how it fits the context of the scene.

Remember Kai needs to top Bonnie’s move in a very dramatic way. 

He wants to jab back at her because he believes she hit him below the belt. It is not about Katherine. It is about Bonnie as it always has and will be for Kai. He doesn’t have to believe one word of what he says about Katherine because the point is to bring Bonnie’s wall down. The point is to get her to feel the emotions that he felt and he will use any tactic to get that reaction. 

And so, he is not going to just come out and say that Katherine has taken over Hell. Bonnie didn’t do that when she told him about the prison world. He is going to create a riddle for each line he says about Katherine for effect

so that Bonnie can be like 

Who is the only person worse than Cade?

Who is the only person who knows where all our weak spots are?

Who wants to hits us over and over again?

Who is the myth?

And to prove to you that this is about Bonnie Look at his expression in the gif below 

He bares his teeth He carefully enunciates each word  He is angry, hurt and he wants her to feel it. He wants her to feel scared like he was scared. The message is this

I might be stuck in another prison world, but your friends will have to deal with Katherine so I guess this game has no winners.

Kai gets the reaction from Bonnie, but he probably wanted her to beg him to help her/the gang defeat Katherine.

so when Bonnie leaves him alone in the prison world well...

He is shocked because he thought it would go differently.  He just wanted to hurt her like she hurt him. He didn’t want Bonnie to leave him again.

 Part 1: Location     Part 2: The Game 

@bonkai-legacy @albion19 @bonkai-diaries @ohh-my-josh @ms-ss @animelifecx @fuckitimfangirling @kissmebluesexyvioletsme @themist-underground @kissmebluesexyvioletsme @darkbonkai @love-peace-diamonds @rebalrosetocharm @respectable-alcoholic

(None of the gifs used in this post are mine. Here are the links to the original gifsets: X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X. Please take a moment to reblog the original gifset if you haven’t already. It takes time to make gifsets and I am sure the creator will appreciate the love. :) ) 

#bonkai #kai parker #bonnie bennett #bonkamily #tvd #meta

[ecotone99]

Bipolar Disorder Wears Many Faces, and So Do I [MF]

I have Bipolar 1. There, I said it. It’s not something I usually talk about very much. I’m private about it because it’s something I really struggle with, and sometimes, I’m even embarrassed about it. Especially the times that I’m manic. But I’m not always manic- in fact, Bipolar has many different faces. For those of you who don’t know, there are three basic states you can be in when you have Bipolar 1: depressed, stable, or manic. Technically you can be hypomanic, too, which is a state of near-mania that is usually characterized by Bipolar 2, but the condition wears the same face as mania. Two of the states- mania and depression- are bad for different reasons. With mania comes irresponsible, life-changing decisions and high impulsivity. Mania is toxic to the brain and can cause someone to ruin their own life, but while you’re manic, you feel like you’re on top of the world. Depression brings with it suicidal ideations, feelings of hopelessness, and a deep despair that eats into the soul.

It was the end of April. I had had a rough go of it recently due to my manic episode in September and my subsequent depression in the following months. I had been absolutely crippled by this depression largely because of my mania. I had done so many things I was ashamed of, made so many decisions I regretted, but at the time I had been so happy and carefree. The months after that were spent picking up the pieces of the destruction I had left in my wake.

Now, though, it was almost summer. My summer classes would begin soon and I had work at the funeral home to keep me busy. I had more structure in my life, and things finally started to feel…better. I had recently moved, partly to get away from the ruin I’d left behind, partly for mortuary school. But mostly to get away. I was in a new place, on my own (except for my faithful pug), with a new career path and no friends or family in the area. I felt conflicted because part of me was lonely and nervous- this was the most “adult” I’d ever had to be- but the rest of me was so excited to begin a new life. This, coupled with a new therapist who finally got me on the right medication, helped me level out. I was actually able to experience joy again, this time without being destructive. I could finally put on my Stable Face.

I probably should have mentioned this, but when I said that Bipolar has many faces, I meant that literally. At least, in my case. I have three faces I can wear, but they will only look natural if my mood matches the face. For example, if I’m depressed and I try to wear my Stable Face, the flesh will be askew and the skin won’t line up like an ordinary human face. Think of the cockroach alien flesh suit from ‘Men in Black.’ Yeah, not so pretty. But you know what? Bipolar isn’t pretty either.

When I’m not using them, I keep my faces in a jar by the door. The little window lets in the perfect amount of sunlight for my faces to get their proper amount of vitamin D without having to actually set them outside. I’m sure the neighbors wouldn’t be pleased about that anyway. My Depressive and Manic Faces floated flaccidly in a mixture of formaldehyde and other preservatives that I managed to sneak home from work. Every year, I would change out the mixture and clean the jar.

Tongs in hand, I dangled my Stable Face over the kitchen sink and began to rinse off the chemicals. I made sure to scrub inside and out, especially around the holes for my eyes and inside the nose, because formaldehyde always makes my eyes and nostrils burn. Then, I gently patted it dry with a clean towel and ran my fingers across the loose skin. The brow was not furrowed like the Depressive Face I’d been wearing for so long, and the eye holes weren’t wide and wild like my Manic Face. No, this face was relaxed and at peace. It also wore the slightest hint of a smile, its lips turned up at the edges.

I brushed my hair back up into a bun and began to apply my Stable Face. For the first time in forever, it fit perfectly. I gently pasted down the edges to cover the exposed flesh and muscle tissue beneath the skin, then I looked in the mirror and flashed myself a smile. It actually looked genuine, and I could practically feel the endorphins rushing through my body. I added a little makeup, and voila! The perfect face. I looked at my reflection and felt confident and beautiful.

I was still admiring myself when I heard a noise. I was in the bathroom, so I didn’t hear the initial click of the jimmied lock, but I did hear the slight creak of the un-oiled hinge on my front door. My ears pricked up, and I heard my pug begin to growl from the entryway. Suddenly, she yelped and bolted into the bathroom with me. I scooped her up and closed the bathroom door with my back against it, heart beginning to race. Someone was in my apartment. I held my breath and tried to keep my dog as quiet as possible. The intruder was rifling through my things, looking for valuables. I cursed myself as I remembered that I’d left my purse right out in the open.

After a few minutes passed that seemed more like hours, I finally heard the door shut. I expelled my breath in a heaving sigh and placed my dog back on the ground. She had stopped whining, so that probably meant she couldn’t smell the intruder in the apartment anymore. I peeked around the edge of the bathroom door and into the front room. There was no one. I relaxed a little, stepping out of the bathroom and into the front room to check my purse.

Oddly enough, nothing had been stolen out of my wallet. The whole purse was untouched. I furrowed my brow and then had to reposition my forehead to undo it. I went to the front door and, sure enough, the lock had been picked. Shaking my head, I looked down at the small table to my right. On top of it sat my bowl of keys, and on the shelf beneath sat my jar of faces.

I mean…face. There was only one. Panicking, I picked up the glass jar and examined it from all sides. Still, there remained only one. My Depressive Face. Someone-the intruder- had stolen my Manic Face, the most dangerous of all my faces. With that face, some serious, serious damage can be done. Now, I’d never had anyone steal my faces before, so I wasn’t sure how this would all play out. Would my face fit on someone else? What would happen if they weren’t manic? How the hell was I going to get it back?

I thought hard about who could have possibly wanted to do this to me? The only people in the world that knew about my faces were me and my parents. I racked my brain for any enemies I might have made recently, thinking that maybe someone had come for revenge and instead found something so bizarre they had to take it. But they didn’t take both- just the one. Why? And how did they find out? I was on the verge of frustrated tears.

I’d had no visitors for weeks, maybe even months because of the depression I had just gotten out of. And I worried that with the extra fear I was now carrying I might need to slip my Depressive Face back on. I went to the mirror and adjusted my skin. It looked okay. Not perfect, but good enough to pass as a normal woman. I thought about calling the police about the break-in, but what would I tell them about what the intruder stole? I imagined a cop showing up at my house, leaning back with his hands in his pockets and examining my door.

“Yup, that lock’s been picked alright. Ain’t much we can do about it since they didn’t steal anything, just get your locks changed,” said the imaginary policeman. I huffed and called a locksmith, then I took my pug and left the apartment to go to the park. I just needed to get out of there for a bit, every second I was in there I felt like I was being watched. I made sure I hid my extra face. Once we were at the park, I read and my dog played, and for a moment, everything was forgotten.

That changed when I got back home. It was late in the evening by that time, and I was exhausted from the sun exposure and emotional trauma of the day. I’d just bid the locksmith goodbye as he finished up. I didn’t feel like cooking, so I ordered a pie from Papa’s Pizza for takeout rather than delivery. I’d gotten delivery from there the whole time I was depressed, and I was ready to get off my ass and out of the house, even if I wasn’t fully up to cooking my own food yet. What better way to relax than eating comfort food?

I kissed my dog on her forehead the way I always do before I leave the house, even if it’s just for a short while. I triple-checked that the new lock was secured before leaving to pick up my food. Then, I hopped in my car and put on some Zeppelin. I lost myself in the music and drove to the restaurant under a cloudy, darkening sky. When I arrived, I sat in the parking lot so that the song I was listening to could finish, then I got out and slammed the door behind me. My feet crunched on the gravel as I swung open the glass door and entered the establishment. I strolled up to the bored-looking middle-aged man at the register and gave him my name. He looked up at me.

“So you’re the special customer Katy was talking about. She loved your tips, man. Shame she was fired,” he said, and reached around to grab my pizza. Gears turned in my head.

“Fifteen, even.” Katy. Katy…that was the name that always popped up on my delivery app. She was the girl who had been consistently delivering me pizzas for months now- the only person that could have peeked inside my apartment and seen my faces. It had to be her.

“Wait, why was she fired?” I asked slowly, reaching into my purse to fish for my wallet. He shrugged.

“Started acting fuckin’ crazy. Kept saying her face was falling off, or something.” I bit my lip and nodded, trying to keep a straight face, no pun intended. I handed him the cash.

“Right, right. Did she say where she was going, by any chance?” He shrugged again.

“Just home, I guess. Said she didn’t need a job anymore anyway because she just became a millionaire.” I sighed. Classic mania. It all hit too close to home.

“Alright,” I said as he gave me change for the twenty, “Where is ‘home,’ then?” The man snorted.

“How should I know? I don’t look at employee records.”

“Well, could you show them to me?” He rolled his eyes.

“Ma’am…” he started.

“I’m gonna stop you right there. First of all, I am way too young to be a ‘ma’am.’ Second, you’re gonna show me that record,” I said, acting more confident than I actually felt. This time, he actually laughed. It was more like a hee-haw.

“Or what?” I hesitated for a second, then I had an idea. Tearing at the delicate glue that I’d used to paste my face to my head, I ripped off my Stable Face and showed him the raw, pulsating, muscular, exposed, gruesome tissues beneath. Immediately, a wet spot started to form in his jeans.

“Rah!” I screamed at him, lunging forward menacingly. Then, he passed out. I admit I had to stifle a giggle as I rearranged my face to the best of my ability. I’d never shown that to anyone except my parents.

Focus, I told myself. I walked behind the counter and wandered into the back of the store. The office was the first door on my right down the hallway that led from the kitchen. I approached the file cabinet and opened the top drawer. ‘Financial Statements,’ it read. I closed it. In the second drawer, I found what I was looking for. ‘Employee Records.’ I found Katy’s resume in the ‘Shred’ folder. Her address was listed right at the top. Perfect, now I knew where I needed to go.

I left the pizza parlor after repositioning the unconscious man so that he wouldn’t wake up with a kink in his neck. Then, I took my pizza and headed straight to Katy’s, eating in the car along the way. When I got there, there was only one car in the driveway. I hoped she lived alone.

I knocked on the door, softly at first, but then louder after there was no answer to the first knock. A light flicked on in the doorway and I heard footsteps approach. Slowly, the door opened, but only just a crack.

“What is it? What do you want?” said a gruff female voice.

“Katy? It’s me, Isabelle, your best customer. I think you have something of mine?” I heard her gasp on the other side of the door. She paused to consider her next move, then sighed and opened the door fully. It was me. I mean, she was me. It was like looking in a mirror, except the body was different. She had my face, and it was a face I was oh, so familiar with. Wild-eyed and not quite lucid, but damn, it fit her perfectly.

“You can come in. Sit over there on that old couch, I’m tossing it tomorrow and buying all new furniture for this place.” I didn’t sit.

“Katy, I know you must have a lot going on, but I need my face back,” I said patiently.

“Well yeah, this is the busiest I’ve ever been in my life, so I’ll make this quick. Look, it’s not like I wanted to steal your face. I actually never even noticed the jar on your shelf until my own face started to peel off one day. And then I robbed you, and everything changed! Oh, my life is just perfect now! I’m gonna sell the house and buy a big van, you know? Like, the old-fashioned Volkswagen buses? And I’m gonna travel across the country and live off of the land. I’ll be blogging and taking photos the whole time if you want to follow my adventures- after all, it will be your face that makes me famous. Tell you what, we can even split the profits!” She spoke with such genuine zeal and excitement, I couldn’t bear to be the one to tell her that she was just delusional, that it didn’t make sense to buy new furniture for a house she that was planning to sell, that her life didn’t change at all- she did. And now she was about to destroy herself without help.

“Katy, listen to me,” I said, formulating a plan in my mind, “I’m gonna make you a promise, okay? If you give me back my face, your life is going to get so much better. And I can take you to a place full of people who will recognize all of your faces, and just how beautiful each of them are. But they have to be your own.” She blinked at me, skeptical. I continued.

“Look, bring me your face, the one that fell off.” She shrugged and went to fetch it. When she brought it out and I looked at it, I felt a pang of sympathy. She was so beautiful, yet she couldn’t accept herself. Her flesh had rejected itself. I gently took the face in my hands. It had only been a day, so the fact that she hadn’t preserved it in formaldehyde wasn’t that big of a deal. I would have to tell her about that trick, though.

“Now, can you do something for me? It’s not going to be easy, but I need you to trust me, because I’ve stood in your shoes before. I need you to give me back my face, and then you need to face yourself. We’re going to patch you up as best as we can, and then we’re going to go on the most important adventure of your life.” Katy nodded and bit her- my- lip. We went into the bathroom together and I helped her by getting my long fingernails under the edge of the skin to peel off the rest of the face. Once it was off, I sighed with relief, then I folded it up and slipped it into my purse.

“Okay. This isn’t going to be perfect, but we’re gonna do our best,” I said. After a half hour of glue and two hours of makeup, she looked reasonable enough to pass as a slightly-deformed woman. By the time I got her to the hospital, I knew that she would be in capable hands and that her face would readjust alongside with her medications over time. The medical staff would probably be baffled. I think she realized what was happening on the car ride over, but she didn’t try to fight me. Deep down, she knew that something was wrong and that she needed all the help she could get. I let her eat the rest of my cold pizza.

Once they were ready to take her back, we exchanged a hug and waved goodbye. I slipped her a small piece of paper with my phone number on it.

“Sometimes it gets lonely in there, so… Just call anytime.” She smiled genuinely at me as a tear rolled down her own cheek.

“Thanks, Isabelle. Things are going to change again, aren’t they?” Her voice cracked.

“Yeah, they’re gonna change. But remember when I said that this is the most important adventure of your life. It might be grueling, and sometimes you might even hate it. But it’s a path you’ve gotta take.” Katy nodded.

“The most important adventure of my life,” she echoed thoughtfully. I gave her hand one last squeeze before they took her away. I knew we would keep in touch.

It’s been a year since Katy stole my face, but in that time, she’s managed to build faces of her own, and I’m proud to say that she’s been wearing her Stable Face consistently for 9 months now. I’ve still got mine on, too. We’ve still got a long way to go, but now, we get to be our best selves, and we’re doing it together. I can’t wait to see what face she’ll be wearing when I pull out the engagement ring tonight.

submitted by /u/pan_kayke [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2Z4iODT

#Blogger #Story

[mf-despair-queen]

Slow Hands - Stuart Twombly

Author: @mf-despair-queen​

Characters: Stuart Twombly/Reader

Word Count: 6,721

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (both receiving), Orgasm Denial, Multiple Orgasms, Hair Pulling, Choking, Face Riding, Boob Jobs, Shower Sex, Making out on the Couch

Notes: STUART WEEK. STUART WEEK. Thank you @rememberstilinski and @sarcasticallystilinski for giving us these times to focus on cuties like Stuart. As thanks, I give you the opportunity to bathe in holy water because... Stuart is a dirty little shit. Also a big thanks to @minhosmeanhoe because she was a babe and proofread this for me while I was on my way home! I love youuuuuu. PS This was a request. 

Request: could you maybe do a smut with stuart twombly based off the song "strip that down" or "slow hands" i dont like 1d but i heard them and i'm like "ooh so sexual i know just the right person" and now i'm here. thanks💕💕

You sat at your desk, your fingers drumming on the table in front of you. Your eyes weren’t focused on your computer, or the task in front of you. They were staring through the glass walls of the office space you shared with your team across the hall at Team Lyle. Particularly, your eyes were focused on the beanie wearing cutie that is Stuart Twombly.

You licked your lips, rubbing your legs together as you watched him talk to Billy and Nick, pointing at something on his computer. His whiskey brown eyes were hidden by the black frames of his glasses, and he was wearing a dark blue button up shirt with his normal khakis. Your body was heating up just by watching him work from afar.

His hands quickly typed on the laptop, and you imagined what those hands would be able to do to your body. Running them through your hair as his lips met your neck. Running along the curvatures of your body slowly, feeling your soft skin. Groping your tits between his fingers, fondling them gently, tweaking your nipples. Running his fingers through your wet folds, probing your aching pussy while his thumb pressed to your swollen clit.

You bit your lip, Stuart glancing your way briefly. You blushed, your legs pressing against each other tightly, hoping to hide the arousal you knew was pooling in your panties under your skirt. You gave him a small smile, waving in his direction. The corners of his lips tugged up, Stuart looking back down at his computer before anyone noticed his expression change.

Your coworker, Ann, rolled over in her chair, her gum snapping loudly in your ear. You jolted in surprise, almost falling out of your seat when you turned to look at her. “Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me! Do not sneak up on me like that,” You told her, seeing her grin.

“Well, you were so preoccupied staring at someone else that you were starting to slack in your work. And you didn’t hear Chris tell everyone to head home early to get ready for the company party tonight,” Ann said, picking at her nails. “Do you want me to come over and help you pick out something sexy? Maybe we can find you a cute guy to bring home and fuck for once.”

You rolled your eyes, beginning to type on your computer. “You know that I’m not interested in that kind of thing. I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl, Ann,” you mutter to her. She groaned, leaning back in her chair.

“I don’t see why not. Sometimes, you just need a release. You’ve been so uptight lately.” She scanned your face, leaning on the palm of her hand. “Fine. What about finding you a boyfriend? Someone like Stuart Twombly of Team Lyle? You guys are always hanging out at lunch when neither of you are busy.” She hinted, nudging you slightly.

“Ann, I am here to focus on my career. Dating is the last thing on my mind,” you told her. “As for Stuart, we are just friends. There is nothing going on between us,” you mutter, glancing at the male across the hall.

Ann groaned again, resting her head against the desk. “Ugh. Sometimes I swear you are actually dating and just not telling anyone.” You shut your laptop, gathering your stuff together, Ann’s eyes on you. “Is it so wrong to want to date? There is nothing wrong with dating someone in the company. You and Stuart are the same level, so there should be no conflicts.”

You slung your bag over your shoulder, giving her a smile. “Think of it this way. If I was dating, I wouldn’t make a big deal of it regardless. Because neither of us would want to make a big deal of it at work. We would want our personal life to stay personal.” You waved at her quickly, rushing out the door, heels clicking down the hallway as you hustled towards the parking lot. You glanced at Stuart’s team before you left, meeting Stuart’s eyes. You gave a small smile, waving at him before running out the door as fast as you could, jumping in your car.

You rest your head against the steering wheel, Stuart running through your mind again. You groaned, feeling the ache in your core for him. “Fuck. I need to get laid or something,” You mumble to yourself, reversing from your parking spot and heading towards your apartment. “Fuck you, Stuart Twombly. Why do you always have to be on my mind?”

You strolled into the company mixer, tugging at the bottom of the black dress you were wearing. Your heels clicked on the floor as you made your way through the crowd of people that had already arrived towards the open bar. You grinned as the bartender handed you a margarita, thanking him quietly and heading to find a seat. You sat at a small, isolated table, sipping your drink while you scanned the crowd.

You noted the various teams having a good time together, enjoying each other’s company outside of their normal work environment. You smiled at the energy people had, knowing this was why you loved your job so much. Google always made sure your spirits were high between the long, grueling days on the job.

Your eyes stopped on Team Lyle sitting at a round table, laughing at something Billy said. You watched Stuart lift his beer bottle to his lips, taking a long swig of the bitter liquid. You licked your lips, your body growing warm from just watching him. He had forgone his normal beanie, his hair spiked up in the front. He swapped his khakis for black jeans, the Google lanyard from his keys dangling from his pocket. He wore the same button up shirt, but the top buttons had been undone so you could see his collarbone.

You were side tackled by Ann, your team following behind her closely. “You look gorgeous, Y/N! Are you sure you’re not looking for a hot date tonight?” She joked, wiggling her eyebrows. You laughed, shaking your head as you took another sip of your margarita.

“No, of course not. I bought this dress a while back and never got a chance to wear it. So, what better time than tonight right?” You mention, giving a small turn. “Too much?”

Your teammate, Lulu, giggled, leaning on the table you were hiding at. “Babe, you’re smoking. There is bound to be some guy that’ll want a piece of that.” She reached over, smacking your ass playfully. You shoved her shoulder in return, all of you laughing.

You chatted with your team for a while, finishing your drink before the DJ changed to an upbeat song, the girls squealing. Ann flipped her hair over her shoulder, placing her hands on her waist. “I think it’s time to get this party started, guys.” She dragged you and Lulu to the middle of the dance floor, rolling her hips to the song. You and Lulu followed her lead, all eyes in the room on you guys. Ann smiled, hollering to the crowd. “Come on guys! It’s time to dance!”

The crowd cheered, groups of people making their way to the floor. It was packed in seconds, giving you a chance to sneak away from Ann and Lulu. You snuck through the crowd, trying to escape, when two hands met your waist, pulling you back against a hand chest. Their lips pressed against your ear, their hot breath fanning over it.

“How about a dance, sexy lady?”

You turned on your heel, wrapping your arms around Stuart’s neck, his arms winding around your waist. “Well, hello to you too.”

He grinned, something everyone saw him do very rarely. He tugged you closer, leaning in to whisper so no one around could hear. “How is my sexy secret girlfriend doing?”

You hummed, twirling your hair playfully. “I think I could be better. Did you know it’s a lot harder keeping this a secret than I thought it would be when we agreed to this arrangement?”

Stuart chuckled, swaying you to the music. “Why? Because our teams are constantly pestering us about not dating? Do they not understand that we want our personal life to remain personal?”

You giggled, pulling him down to your level. “That’s part of it, I guess. But most of the time, it’s because I see this really hot guy across the way, and I can’t help but imagine what amazing things he can do to me. It takes everything in me not to jump his bones in the middle of work.”

Stuart groaned, his lips brushing yours slightly. “Hey, just remember, we both agreed to this. We didn’t want our personal life to interfere with work. We knew this would be hard because we are on different teams and don’t have a lot of time together between normal work, time with our teams and traveling for projects.”

You grumbled at his words, pressing against him. “I know, I know. I just don’t know the last time we’ve had time to ourselves to just hang out. We’ve been so busy lately.” Your lips pressed lightly to his neck, Stuart biting his lip to stifle his groan. “When was the last time we fucked, Stu? All I think about is you, and it makes me horny while I am trying to work. Especially today. You’ve been running through my mind all day long.” Stuart stayed silent, feeling you against him. You looked up at him, staring directly at him. “How about we go back to my place instead of hanging around here? No one will miss us and we can make up for some… lost time.”

Stuart dragged you off the dance floor before you knew what was happening, looking down at you once you were free of the crowd. “Meet me in five minutes at your car. I am going to let Nick know I am heading home on my own since I got a ride with him. That way no one will be suspicious.” You nodded, watching him disappear to find Nick before heading out to your car.

You sat in your car, your mind wandering to Stuart the way it always did when you were alone. You were growing more eager by the second, your heart fluttering when you saw him slip from the building, rushing over to your car. He slid in the passenger seat, his fingers lacing with yours.

The drive was silent, Stuart playing with your fingers while you drove.  He leaned over the console, his lips pressing against your cheek softly. “I missed you, Y/N. I promise I will make up for all the time we missed while I was at that conference.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, nipping at your skin. You closed your eyes as you moaned, your car swerving slightly. “Keep your eyes on the road, baby. We’re almost there.”

You slammed on your breaks as you got to your apartment, watching Stuart jump from the car before it was completely stopped and practically running to your front door. You giggled, locking your car and following him inside, locking the door behind you. His arms were instantly around your waist, peppering your face with kisses. You couldn’t stop laughing at him, slowly pushing him down on the couch.

“Couch sex?” Stuart asked, grinning wildly. “I’m down. We’ve done that only once before.”

You smiled at him, sitting next to him. He pouted, looking over at you. “Well, I was thinking that we could take it slow for once. It’s still early,” you mention, glancing at the clock. “We have all night to do whatever you want, babe. So, why rush into something just for us to fall asleep or something afterwards? This is one of the few times I get you all to myself without anyone around.”

Stuart sighed, leaning one of his arms on the back of the couch, placing his hand on your waist to tug you closer. “If that’s what you want to do baby. I want to be with you and I want you to be happy. That’s what makes me happy.” You rest a hand on his arm, rubbing small circles on his skin. “So, what exactly do you want to do if we aren’t having sex right now?”

You grinned, tugging him closer by the neck. “I want you to kiss me. But, just kiss me. No trying to cop a feel.” You heard him groan, pecking his lips. “Come on, Stu. Just make out with me for a bit. I read online that this sort of thing is supposed to be super hot and can bring us close together.”

Stuart cocked his head, quirking an eyebrow. “Are… are you reading things online to spice up our sex life?”

You played with the hairs on his neck, burying your head in his neck to breath in his cologne. “Just thought we could try something new. Sex is always good with you but it’s so rare for us, we need to keep it special.”

He smiled, leaning in to give you a slow, sensual kiss. His lips moved against yours slowly, placing open mouth kisses to your lips. His head tilted to the side, allowing him better access to mesh your lips with his. He would carefully envelope your lips with his, the soft feeling leaving yours seconds later. He would quickly delve into another kiss, occasionally tugging your lip with his teeth. Your hands threaded through his hair, his hands planted firmly on your waist. They held tightly, trying to refrain from running over your skin-tight dress.

You spent a few minutes just sitting on the couch, gently kissing each other. You were surprised he stayed true to not feeling around, but you were glad he did. You never got to have this kind of passionate moment with Stuart. Ever since you had agreed to go out with him, life was quick, leaving you little time to enjoy things like this. You cherished the rare times you got with him in your busy schedules, but this was the cherry on top of everything.

His tongue darted out to lick at your lips, a small moan escaping against his lips. He pulled back, licking his lips. “Please, baby? Can I French kiss you?” You giggled, pulling him down for a kiss. He placed a heated kiss to your lips, his tongue slipping through the crack in your lips. He massaged your tongue, the two wrestling against each other playfully. You shifted against him without breaking the kiss, propping yourself on your knees next to him, your hands pressing against his chest. His hands cupped your cheeks, the kiss growing more heated and deeper in those slight movements.

He broke the kiss, his lips traveling down your jaw to your neck, sucking at it harshly. Normally he wouldn’t do that, afraid to leave marks that people would question, but right now, neither of you cared. You were in the moment and a hickey was the last of your worries. He began laying you back on the couch, your arms reaching above your head, Stuart kissing down your collarbone. Unfortunately for you, your hand knocked the open bottle of Gatorade you had left on the table before the party, the blue liquid pouring over your head. You let out a squeal at the sudden liquid on your body, jumping up. Of course, it was your luck that the bottle got knocked up at well, spilling the remainder of the liquid on Stuart’s head.

Stuart started laughing, resting his head against your shoulder, his hair wet and sticky. “How the fuck did that just happen?” He asked, feeling you shrug, your wet body shivering slightly. “How about we get you a shower then? Get you warmed up. You’re soaked to the bone,” he chuckled, seeing the glare on your face.

He got off the couch, throwing you over his shoulder easily. “Stuart Twombly! Put me down right this instance!” You banged on his back, Stuart making no effort to drop you. “Fine. At least I get to see this fine thing,” you told him, smacking his ass.

“You forget,” he started, pushing your dress up to smack your ass loudly, “Where yours is baby.” You grumbled at him, Stuart clicking on the light in the bathroom. He carefully put you on the sink, turning on the shower so it could heat up. He turned back to you, leisurely helping lift the tight, wet material from your skin. His warm fingers brushed against your bare sides as the dress was pulled up over your head, Stuart discarding it in the corner. His eyes locked on the strapless, lace black bra you wore with a matching thong. “Damn, baby. You must have been planning to come back if you wore that.”

You grinned, pecking his lips. “I told you. You’ve been on my mind all day. I contemplated masturbating before the party, but it’s never the same.” Stuart smiled, kissing your cheek before turning to leave. You frowned, grabbing ahold of his shirt. “Where are you going?”

He glanced back at you, his face cutely confused. “Letting you shower?”

You bit your lip, staring at him. “Join me? You got wet too and should get cleaned up,” you mumbled, never removing your eyes from him. He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it with your dress. You gazed at his toned chest, eyes trailing over his flexing muscles in his arms and the patches of hair on his chest and stomach. Stuart just smirked, kicking off his jeans and boxers and jumping in the shower.

“You coming, baby?” He called out through the steam, missing your low moan. You unhooked your bra, tossing it away randomly as you jumped off the counter, slipping free of the thong. You poked your head in the shower, Stuart's back to you as he scrubbed at his hair under the running water. You gingerly stepped in, making no noise, wrapping your arms around him, chest against his back. “Well, there you are.”

He turned in your arms, tugging you under the water. You clung to him, feeling his hands run through your hair to clean off the sugary drink. You placed kisses on his chest, feeling a certain member down below twitch against your leg when you did. He felt you grinning against him, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Stuart, this is nice,” you murmur, Stuart looking down at you. “We don’t normally take time to be… passionate like this. It’s been nice for once. Kind of romantic, don’t you think?” You look up at him with a large smile, Stuart smiling in return.

He didn’t answer with words, leaning down to kiss you. It was slow like before, his mouth meshing with yours in hot, open mouth kisses. Your nails raked against his chest, pressing yourself hard against him. The water dripped down your bodies, adding to the heat that was building up inside of you.

Stuart broke the kiss, kisses trailing down your neck to your chest. His lips tenderly wrapped around your nipple, placing soft kisses to the tender bug. He gently tugged at it with his lips, his tongue running over it. His tongue circled the bug, flicking it occasionally. His hand grabbed the other one in between his fingers, pinching the nipple. Your head fell back, fingers tangling in his hair, moaning loudly. Stuart swapped breasts, repeating his actions when he did.

He pulled away with a pop, running his tongue along the valley of your breasts back to your lips, kissing you forcefully. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ve tried to stay calm and be romantic like you said I was. I wanted to make you happy by doing what you want.” He kissed you again, the kissing harder and sloppier. “But, I fucking need to be inside of you. I’ve waited as long as I could, but you’re so sexy and I love you so much. I need you.”

He picked you up abruptly, aligning himself with your pussy. You moaned, feeling him slide inside easily, the water from the shower and your already wet pussy aiding his cock. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your back hitting the shower wall. Stuart held your thighs, your legs winding around his waist in a tight hold. His hips shifted into yours, his cock sliding out and back in deeply. You quietly mewled at the feeling, his thrusts getting faster and deeper.

“Fuck, I forgot how good you feel,” he panted, using one hand to brace himself on the wall. “It’s been so long, Y/N. Your pussy is so much better than my hand. Only you can make me feel this good.”

You cracked your eyes open at him, placing a sloppy kiss to his lips. “You’ve broken records today. First, you’re hella romantic, now you sound hella dirty. Have you always been this dirty? You’re normally quiet when we fuck, popping off sarcastic remarks now and again. You’ve never talked dirty to me.”

He looked up, halting his movements, reaching over to turn off the shower. “You want me to be dirty? Baby, I can be dirty. You’ve seen nothing yet.” He pushed off the wall, holding you against him as he climbed from the shower, heading for your room. You left a trail of water through your hallway, Stuart’s cock still throbbing inside of you. He kicked the door open, dropping you on the bed. You whined at the empty feeling you felt when he left your pussy, Stuart grinned as he stroked his cock. “God, there are so many things I want to do to you.”

You whimpered, Stuart leaning over you to kiss down your body. “God, do you know how many things I’ve wanted to do to you?” He whispered, stopping once he got to your pussy. “I’ve always wanted to cum on your tits. To fuck you doggy style since we’ve never done that. To have you ride my face.” He licked a stripe up your pussy, hearing you moan. “To have you call me daddy while I fuck you into next week. To leave you unable to walk.”

You grumbled, wrapping your legs around his head, shoving his face into your pussy. “Less talking, more doing then.” He complied silently, his tongue delving deep into your pussy. Your head fell back into the pillows, your back arching off the bed. His tongue was always magic, but this was more intense than normal. He was swirling his tongue around, lapping at the juices that were constantly leaking from your core. The tip rubbed against your walls, finding every sensitive spot he knew you had.

He pulled away, two fingers replacing his tongue, thrusting into your pussy at lightning speed. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking at it harshly, tongue flicking against the engorged bud relentlessly. You moaned loudly, Stuart pressing his tongue to your clit, fingers curling inside of you. The tips of his fingers pressed to your g-spot, prodding at it with everything he had and shoved them deep inside of you. The coil in your stomach was unwinding quickly, your body shaking uncontrollably.

“Stu, baby. I’m going to cum.” At your words, his fingers pulled free of your walls, his lips placing a quick kiss to your clit before he sat up, licking his fingers clean. Your mouth fell open, staring at your secret boyfriend. “Did you… did you just deny me my orgasm?”

He grinned, rolling you over so you were on top. “You should ride daddy’s face while you cum. Because that sounds so hot.” You blushed at his words, hearing him call himself daddy. Your heart rate picked up, your core aching at his words.

“Ok, I never thought calling you daddy would actually turn me on,” you mumbled, shimmying up his body until your pussy was directly over his face. You looked down at him, meeting his dark brown, lust-filled eyes. “But it did. So, will you let me cum now, daddy?”

His hands met your waist, pulling you down until his lips met your clit, his tongue darting out to lick it rapidly. You squealed at the feeling, leaning your hands on the headboard to keep upright. Your fingers curled against the wood, Stuart’s tongue licking long stripes through your folds. Occasionally he would blow cool air over your pussy and clit, shivers running up your spine. His lips would wrap around your clit in sucking kisses, his tongue dipping into your wet pussy whenever it passed by.

Stuart snaked one hand under you, two fingers sliding into your pussy when he attached his lips firmly to your clit, spelling his name slowly on the engorged bud. He thrust his fingers into you slowly, scissoring them as he moved. The feeling was different than anything you’ve ever felt, your body shaking violently on top of him.

You used one hand to support yourself on the headboard, using the other to massage your breasts while he finger-fucked you. His eyes cracked open when your moans got louder, your panting increasing. He broke from his attack on your clit to watch you fondle yourself, his fingers roughly pressing into you. “Fuck, baby. That’s hot. Are you picturing my hands caressing your tits? My lips around your nipples?” You nodded, head falling back to moan his name.  

“Oh fuck, daddy. I don’t know how long I’m going to last,” you whined, Stuarts fingers speeding up. He turned his attention back to your clit, his teeth nipping at the bud, a loud scream ripping from your throat. You could feel him groan against you, curling his fingers into your sensitive walls. You felt the coil in your stomach unwinding like before, your body convulsing. “Oh god. I’m cumming, daddy!”

Waves of pleasure rolled through your body, Stuart replacing his fingers with his mouth before your fluids leaked from your pussy. His tongue shoved its way into you, massaging your walls as you came, your juices spilling onto his taste buds. He happily lapped at your juices, swallowed every drop you had.

You crawled off him carefully, hearing him sigh contently. “God, you taste as good as I remember,” he mumbled to himself, though you heard him clearly. You grinned, your hand reaching over to wrap around his stiff cock. His head turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

You smiled at him, adjusting your position until you were nestled between his legs, grasping him tightly. He let out a short breath, propping himself up on his elbows to watch you. He saw your eyes shift to his cock before returning his gaze, silently telling him what you were planning. When he didn’t protest, you began stroking his cock, your mouth wrapping around the tip. You ran your tongue over the swollen tip, tasting the precum that was leaking from it. You hummed happily, vibrating his cock.

“Fuck, baby. You like to torture daddy, huh?” His fingers tangled in your hair, laying back in the pillows with his eyes closed. You smiled against him, beginning to bob your head along his length, pumping what couldn’t fit in your mouth with your hand. Your nose buried in the dark curly hairs at the base of his cock, swirling your tongue around his length. Your cheeks hollowed out, the feeling around his cock growing tighter. “God, that feels so good. You always know how to please me baby,” he murmured.

Your tongue ran along the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock, faintly hearing Stuart moan your name during the action. The noise he made filled you with additional adrenaline, bobbing your head faster. He moaned louder, tightening his hold on your hair. He used it as leverage to guide your movements, his hips jerking up to meet your movements. His tip hit the back of your throat, your eyes watering slightly to avoid gagging. You pushed yourself to deepthroat him further, Stuart’s cock twitching against your cheeks sporadically.

“Fuck baby. I’m going to cum soon,” he grumbled, your lips pulling back to suck his tip. When your lips pulled away completely, his eyes snapped open, looking up at you. You were sitting back on your knees, licking your lips, a smirk present on your cheeks. “Oh. Touché, babe. I see what you did there.”

You giggled, sliding back on the bed. He watched you lean forward, your chest against his groin. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching you wrap your breasts around his cock, rubbing them against him. He groaned, thrusts his hips in motion with you, steadily speeding up. You pushed your breasts together, hugging his cock between them. You moaned at the feeling of him pumping between them, Stuart moaning in return. Your lips wrapped around the tip, harshly sucking at it and running your tongue along the slit.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his body growing warm. “I’m not going to last long.” You pushed your breasts together at his comment, rocking your body to jerk him quickly. “Shit!” Stuart yelled out, his head falling back. His seed shot from the tip in spurts, filling your cheeks and sliding down your throat. It was salty, but sweet, and you enjoyed the taste more than you thought you would. You gripped him with your hand, pumping him to milk the last drops of his cum.

Stuart was panting heavily, watching you through his lashes as you licked your lips clean of his seed. You crawled up his body, fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him fiercely. Stuart returned the kiss without hesitation, rolling you over until your back was pressed against the bed.

His cock buried itself in your pussy while he kissed you, swallowing your moan with his lips. His hips pressed forcibly into yours, his cock bottoming out before he dared move. You broke the kiss, lips nearly atop each other, moans escaping both of your mouths at the same time. He pulled out slowly, slamming his way back into you quickly, his speed instantly at one hundred percent. He was pounding you into the mattress from the get go, and you were enjoying every second of it.

His cock never stopped moving, vehemently thrusting into you. It brushed against your sensitive walls, causing them to clench around him tightly. He trailed his kisses down your neck, sucking countless marks along the way. His lips wrapped around your nipple, your back arching into him from the mixture of his assault on your breasts and his restless thrusting. He sucked at your nipple, tugging at it with both his lips and his teeth. You moaned loudly, your mind blanking on what was happening.

Stuart pulled away with a pop, gripping your thigh tightly. He shifted it over his shoulder, the angle causing your body to shake violently. He was reaching new depths with his endless thrusting, easily prodding at your g-spot every time he shoved his cock deep inside of you. The sound of slapping skin filled the room, Stuart panting and sweating from his movements.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he murmured, licking between your breasts. He leaned back slightly, his thrusts becoming faster and more powerful. Each thrust caused you to scream out loud, your breasts bouncing freely with his thrusts. Stuart’s eye locked on them, watching them jiggle with his motions, his mouth watering. “You have the best tits. Fuck.”

He leaned forward again, supporting himself with one hand. His other hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing it gently. It wasn’t enough to constrict your breathing, but there was something about the action that turned you on. Your stomach churned with desire, your body heating up dramatically. Waves of pleasure rolled through your body, your pussy dripping with arousal around Stuart’s giant cock. He would tighten his hold on your neck occasionally, hearing you whimper at the act.

His cock twitched inside of you, pressing into your walls repeatedly. The knot inside of you was unraveling. One squeeze of the neck was all it took for your juices to splatter your walls around him, soaking his cock completely. Your body quaked, turning into a moaning, jumbled mess. Your back arched off the bed, toes curling into Stuart’s shoulder. Your leg wrapped around his waist, tugging him closer, his cock buried to the hilt. He jostled his hips, unconsciously rubbing against your clit as he did, escalating your orgasm.

“Fuck! Daddy!” You screamed loudly, walls completely closing, your fluids pouring from inside of you in endless waterfalls. Stuart groaned happily, the tip of his cock tapping your cervix as he buried himself deep. He twitched uncontrollably, feeling your juices on his cock, the warmth of your pussy enveloping him. He let out a grunt, spewing his seed into your womb, his juices mixing with yours.

He pulled out of you, rubbing himself in his hand, giving you a chance to catch your breath. You were pulled up by the arms into a rough kiss, Stuart’s cock still proudly erect. “Ready for another round, baby?” He whispered in your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

“God, where did this stamina come from?” You joked, Stuart backing away to give you a dull look. “Aw, don’t be mad, daddy. What can your baby do this time for you?” You leaned forward, your chest pressing against his. He grumbled, muttering incoherent things. “Well, you must be done if you can’t decide.”

You were spun around, Stuart pressing against your back until you were on your hands and knees in front of him. His cock pressed against your core, your pussy already growing moist at the feeling. His hand ran over your ass, groping it between his fingers.

“You’re being a naughty girl, Y/N. I think someone needs to be punished,” He stated, smacking your ass hard. You squealed loudly, your hands grabbing at the blankets around you. Another smack was heard, echoing through the room. Your ass was beginning to sting from the impact, but it was also filling you with intense desire. Pleasure was filling your veins with each smack, tears prickling the corners of your eyes from the painful stinging, filthy moans slipping from your lips.

When he smacked your ass for the tenth time, he gently rubbed the bright red skin, caressing it carefully. You looked over your shoulder at him, licking your lips. “I learned my lesson, daddy. Now, will you please fuck me from behind?” Stuart groaned, his cock sliding inside before he could produce words. Your face buried into the bed, biting your lip. “Shit, that feels amazing. You’re so big, Stu.”

His hand met your ass, a squeak coming out of your mouth. “It’s daddy, baby.” His hips pushed forward, snapping against yours in rapid, hard thrusts. Your moans were muffled by the mattress and blankets, listening to skin slapping against each other, feeling his balls smacking against you whenever he pushed in.

His hand reached out, threading in your hair, tugging back on it slightly. Your face was pulled away from the bed, your moans bouncing off the walls instantly. “That’s it, baby,” he panted. “Let everyone hear your moans. Let everyone know who you love. Whose cock you love. Whose girlfriend you are.” He tugged at your hair again, a pool of desire filling inside of you.

He thrust into you at an ungodly speed, your walls contracting around him in intervals. They contracted more often the harder and longer he thrust into you, his fingers never leaving your hair. His cock repeatedly poked your g-spot, hitting your cervix every time he thrust inside of you. You moaned, feeling the pool overflowing inside of you. He bottomed out with his thrusts, filling you to the brim with his large, pulsating cock. It pushed against your walls, your juices flowing around him quickly. Your eyesight went dark, your eyes slightly rolling back as your orgasm hit intensely, your body collapsing onto the bed. You convulsed, Stuart’s thrusts slowing to ride out your high. He moaned at the warm feeling around him, your juices coating his cock.

He pulled from you, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. He stroked it gently, making a move to get off the bed. “No,” you muttered, catching Stuart’s attention. You got up shakily, turning towards Stuart. He watched you with wary eyes, trying to figure out what you were doing.

“It’s fine, baby,” he uttered lowly. “I can just jack off. You’re worn out already.” You shook your head, pushing his hand away from his cock, taking it in your own.

“You said you wanted to cum on my tits, Stu,” you told him, dropping the whole ‘daddy’ aspect. “So, let me fulfill your desire.” He watched you closely, grunting when your mouth wrapped around his cock completely, bobbing along his length quickly.

“Shit, babe. This is even better than before,” he muttered, resting his hand on the back of your head. You tasted yourself on his cock, your tongue swirling around his length to taste everything. A bit of cum leaked from his tip, the sweet salty liquid making your mouth water. Stuart was already twitching and pulsing against your cheeks, his head falling back.

“Fuck baby,” he panted, feeling something starting to snap inside him. “I’m cumming now.” You pulled away, pumping him with your hand quickly. He moaned your name, hot white streams of cum shooting from his tip, landing on your face and chest, and landing on your tongue when you opened your mouth. You stroked his cock until he had nothing else to release, swallowing the bits that landed on your tongue. Stuart panted, staring down at you, covered in his cum. “That’s… kind of hot.”

You giggled, crawling off the bed slowly, waddling towards the bathroom. Your body was sore, but you were in complete bliss. You grabbed a towel, cleaning off the juices you were wearing. When you came back out, Stuart was laying back on the bed, under the covers already, staring at his phone. You crawled into the bed with him, curling up on his chest.

“That was probably the best sex we’ve ever had, Stu,” you told him, looking up to give him a kiss. “I miss you so much, baby. I love you.” He grinned, placing a slow, chaste kiss to your lips.

“Back at you, baby. You were a beast tonight.” He nuzzled into your hair, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

You notice him look back at his phone, turning to grab yours from the side table, right where Stuart always put it. You figured he grabbed it when he went to grab his. You glanced at your messages, seeing dozens of texts from your team. The one that caught your eye the most was one from Ann.

[11:21 PM: Ann Bby] I saw you and Stuart disappear one after another. I should have known you two were secretly together. You guys are cute.

You blushed, looking up at Stuart. “Ann saw us leave together. She said she knows we are together.” Stuart nodded, handing you his phone. You scanned his texts, everyone on his team making comments about him leaving with you. They even sent him pictures of when we were dancing at the party. “I guess there’s no much point in keeping it secret now.”

He ran his hand through your hair, taking his phone back. “Well, maybe it’s a good thing we do. We’ve been dating for over a year without a single word to anyone. Maybe now we will get some more time together.” He noticed your eyes drooping slowly, kissing your head. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. For now, sleep. And remember this as you fall asleep.” He nuzzled his face with yours, kissing your cheek. “I love you.”

You smiled, snuggling into him. You fell asleep quickly, muttering a quick ‘I love you’ back to him. Stuart smiled, relaxing into the bed, reminiscing about the night you had shared before he fell asleep with you.

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[ecotone99]

[MF] Nosedive

Emma was up in the air about her position up in the air.

Being a flight attendant just wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It was no longer the glory days of the classy Pan-Am stewardess, adorned in her robin blue dress and cap, long legs and aura of elegance. There was no more mingling with wealthy jetsetters in those luxury liners in the sky, those flying spectacles of glitz and glamour, jetting off to the globe’s most exotic locales. Now it was all about waiting on the impatient masses. The ever-impatient masses.

“Just a second!” Emma hissed. The fat man in 36C was trying to monopolize her attention again. He leaned back on his neck pillow, folds of sweaty red flesh billowing out the sides. Earbuds in, he snapped his fingers above his head as if the plane would nosedive straight into the ocean if she didn’t come serve him. Right. That. Moment.

She clamoured past Margaret, her near-octogenarian co-worker. Fifty years and a hundred pounds ago, Margaret could’ve been one of those glamorous Pan-Am girls that a young Emma had pictured in her dreams. Margaret pushed a clunky metal service cart, loaded with reanimated frozen food (“chicken or pasta?”, the modern attendant’s catchphrase). Her oversized rear-end nearly sent Emma tumbling into a row of French businessmen, pattering away on laptops.

“Sorry love” Margaret purred. Her rosy cheeks and sweet old lady demeanour masked her gross incompetence. Emma liked her slightly better than the other attendants though, a bunch of middle-aged chain-smokers with skin like leather. And Craig.

Cursing her life choices, she finally reached the fat man, who resembled a raging toddler. He was watching some lame action movie, Tom Cruise sprinting across the miniscule screen as a hoard of thugs and dead pixels closed in.

“Yes sir?” Emma asked in her customer service voice. Despite her extreme disdain, her paycheque mandated that she attempt to remain pleasant.

The man swished something around in his cheeks, and proceeded to spit a chunk of half-chewed food into the plastic platter on his tray-table. It was flanked by a small cup of water, a roll from the Middle Ages, and something the airline deemed a ‘brownie’.

“I ordered the pasta.”

“And what is that?

“It’s chicken!”

Dammit Margaret. Emma wearily glanced around. Margaret was headed into first-class, backside squeezing down the cabin, begging for a hard kick. There were rows of seat-backs and human scalps as far as the eye could see. She didn’t like breathing the same recycled air as these people. Only one thing to do.

“Craig!” she called out. Craig, the only other attendant her age, spun around, spilling a stream of orange juice across the lap of the woman with the sleep-mask he was serving. Craig had always had a massive crush on Emma, mainly because there as no one else to really have a crush on. He was kind of cute, as one would describe a puppy or a small squirrel as cute, with a soft baby-face and patches of adult acne.

“You got any more pastas?”

Craig fumbled through his cart, unsheathing a tray of regurgitated dogfood with steam-soaked plastic wrap over the top. He tossed in some packaged utensils.

“My lady” he cooed, passing it over the passengers’ heads between them.

“Thanks” Emma muttered, cringing.

“Don’t mention it!” Craig said excitedly. “I’ve got so many pastas. And chickens. And pastas. And chickens. And vegetarian pastas. And…”

Emma smiled at him, and he visibly swooned. That did the trick. She placed the new meal atop the fat man’s tray-table.

“There you go, one pasta.” She resisted the urge to add your majesty.

The man poked at a congealed glob of tomato sauce with his fork. “How long til Paris?” he sneered.

Emma glanced at her watch. “Just a couple hours.” The man could’ve easily looked at the virtual map on his TV. One of the few conveniences of modern air travel.

He grunted.

“Are you traveling with your wife?” Emma asked, mistakenly advancing the conversation. An equally-obese woman pooled in the seat beside him, dead asleep, slobber leaking from an open jaw. She wore a football jersey and Cheetos dust.

“Yeah” he sighed. “It’s our anniversary trip. She always wanted to go to Paris.”

“And what are you most excited to see? The Eiffel Tower? Notre Dame?”

“Euro Disney” he answered. “I’m gonna try to give her the slip in Frontierland.”

Emma nodded with the most plastic smile she could muster. Thankfully, she was pulled away by the monotone ding of a ‘call attendant’ button a few rows down. In fact, there were multiple ‘call attendant’ dings, an entire ear-piercing symphony. Emma shuffled down the fuselage to find an exasperated mother in a middle seat, yelling with a strained voice, two shrieking gremlins darting around her. They slipped through her arms whenever she attempted to snatch one. Deep crayon strokes were embedded in the seat-back. The old man in front of them, nose in the latest Dan Brown atrocity, was growing more agitated with each kick and jab.

“Uh, hi” Emma muttered, with a quick wave.

“Sorry, sorry, look, I didn’t press it, they’re just…” the mother started. A gremlin resumed spamming the ‘call attendant’ button, the ding blaring, the little light flickering. “JASON! STOP PRESSING THAT! YOU’RE WASTING THE NICE LADY’S TIME!”

“Shhh!” hissed the old man from ahead.

“Emma! Emma!”

What now? Emma spun around from one train-wreck to the next. Margaret stood at the border with business class, leaning out the iron curtain, trying to get her attention. Emma swallowed her wits and hurried forward, vaulting over a pair of bare legs stretched across the aisle.

“What Margaret?”

“We’ve got a teeny bit of a problem up here, love” Margaret explained. “8B brought a chihuahua in her handbag. Very adorable of course. But he seems to have gotten loose and had a little tinkle on the floor- the chihuahua that is, not the passenger.” She glanced back behind her. “A wee more than a tinkle I’m afraid.”

“…And?”

“And it’s my break time. I was hoping you could be a dear and swab it up?” Margaret tossed a roll of paper towel, which Emma caught before she could react. “Thanks love!”

Looking at the paper towel, Emma felt something that certainly wasn’t job satisfaction bubble up inside her, pushing towards the surface. She swallowed it with a few deep breaths before slipping into the nearby lavatory, flicking it locked, and taking a seat on the closed high-suction toilet. She turned and looked at herself in the mirror, stained with God-knows-what. Heavy bags hung beneath her eyes. Leaning closer, she could even make out a few faint wrinkles, commencing their journey across her cheeks. Her lips throbbed from fake-smiling. Was this really what she wanted to do with her life? A glorified babysitter stuck on a Transatlantic tube, at the beck and call of every ridiculous tourist and their nonsensical demands? She briefly wondered if any Pan-Am girls had ever stooped to scrubbing up chihuahua piss. Probably not. Too classy. Emma fantasized about storming into her manager’s office once she finally made it home, slamming a big fat resignation letter on her desk. Maybe this would be her final flight after all.

As she soaked in her fantasy, she was interrupted by a sudden jolt. More than a jolt really. All at once the plane lurched abruptly sideways, sending Emma crashing into the sink, knocking the wind out of her. Just as she started to get up, smoothing the front of her stewardess uniform, there was a sudden thrash the other way, knocking her over the toilet, her knee bashing on the side. The lights flickered with a questionable buzz.

Pushing out the lavatory, Emma came upon utter chaos.

“Uh, this is your captain speaking, you may’ve noticed that we’ve hit a wave of turbulence” came Captain Ronaldo’s voice over the static-y intercom. “Should hopefully clear in a few minutes, but the seatbelt sign has been turned on and oxygen masks have been deployed for your safety. Please direct any questions to a member of our cabin crew.”

Nope!

Ignoring the prehistoric-sounding mess in the cabin as passengers scrambled for their masks- biting, clawing, kicking small children- Emma ducked into the galley where Margaret and Craig were already seated. She tugged on her dangling mask from overhead, her steady breaths soon inflating the small bag at the end.

Craig, his bag widening at a much faster rate, gripped her arm. She carefully pried him off like an unwanted Band-Aid.

“We’re going down…we’re going down…” he gasped between breaths.

“Oh, don’t worry love, we have Captain Ronaldo at the helm!” Margaret cheerily exclaimed. “This will be over in a few minutes! Everything is going to be fine, tip-top, we…OH SHITTTTTT!”

The plane plunged suddenly downward. Turbines screamed as it collapsed into a dizzying spiral, dropping hundreds of feet per second, the icy black waters of the mid-Atlantic rising to meet it.

Emma lurched forward, body straining against the seatbelt, clinging with white knuckles to the edge of her chair. She glanced around. Time seemed to have stopped. A coffee pot, knocked from the adjacent counter, hung in mid-air, a ribbon of black decaf floating out the lid, like something out of the space station.

This was how it ended, she supposed. Trapped in a plane with all these stupid people, Margaret and Craig her seatmates for eternity, no legacy but a name on a forgotten memorial plaque on a blustery seaside somewhere. She should’ve quit while she had the chance. Lived a little. Experienced life outside the tube. She never got to fall in love, never got to find herself, never got to have an adventure. Never got to see Paris beyond the overpriced airport hotels huddled around the tarmac. It was, indeed, her final flight. A weird sort of irony.

Emma braced for impact.

Suddenly, yet another jolt shook the craft, and it somehow leveled out. The dimmed lights reignited in full force. Emma watched the floating coffee pot shatter across the floor. Margaret was muttering “oh dear oh dear oh dear oh dear” under her breath. Craig looked catatonic. Then came the bland tone of the seatbelt sign switching off, and Emma knew it was going to be okay. She brushed her windswept hair back into place, gingerly pulling off her oxygen mask and unclipping her seatbelt, filled with utter awe.

She’d been given another chance to live. And maybe the flight attendant life wasn’t so bad after all. Serving a few unruly passengers was sufficiently better than plunging to a freezing death in the middle of the ocean. Most of them were quite nice anyway. A few bad apples, rotten from travel stress and general indecency, ruined the bunch. That was it. None of it was personal. None of it was defining. Emma strode towards the cabin with a restored passion. Perhaps the very same passion that those retro Pan-Am girls had felt.

Upon arrival, every ‘call attendant’ button was screaming, the flashing lights like a sea of strobes. Feeling something bubble up inside her again, Emma wearily headed for the fat man in 36C, frantically snapping his fingers above his head.

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[ecotone99]

[MF]In the Shape of the Big Dipper

Celine had eyed me curiously while I paid for our lunch at the little grille we found in Charleston. I did spend a lot of money that day, but Celine acted like I was a drug lord or at the pink Caddy level of a pyramid scheme. I simply paid cash to keep better track of my spending, that’s all. Money, much like life, doesn’t last. You can’t keep either, so you must learn to spend both the way you want. I never had a red cent to theorize about until recently, much less a fortune of dirty money to move twelve hours away to avoid confronting. Here I was, though, hiding out in the boonies with nursing students, numbing myself with crab cakes and sweet grass baskets. Trusting Celine wasn’t the hard part— she was a good, Christian girl who didn’t believe in strangers, white shoes after Labor Day, or mole people. The problem was I hadn’t told anyone the truth yet— my parents are thrilled; they think I left to go to school. School is a joke, but I enjoy the curriculum and making my folks happy. I owed them that much; they left the beauty of Palermo, the Catholic Church, and the 20th century behind for me. My ex-fiancé, Rob, was just fine with it. He doesn’t know that I know he had an affair and isn’t so excited I’m moving on to bigger and better things. He screws his next-door neighbor every Saturday, the 35-year-old named Judy, with a hideous affinity for vintage bobble head Dobermans and flesh colored lipstick. His mother told me on my way in the night I left, told me I needed to kick the little bastard to the curb, so I obliged her. She was a wonderful mother.

As important as they all were, I didn’t belong to the Maple Street gang anymore. Diana was the catalyst to my new life. We got to know each other during her monthly check-ups. She

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was a patient of Dr. Hales, a sweet old man who’d traded Scarsdale balloon boobies, expressionless faces, and ski-slope noses for his beach house. Diana’s favorite thing was to make me uncomfortable, and if she could encourage my wild side, all the better. She often brought me coffee, offered me cocaine a time or two, and told Dr. H he wasn’t paying me enough every time she visited.

After Celine went home, I had some time to myself, so I began to tell myself the truth. Diana had come into the office for a checkup, after which I relented to a long-standing rain check to visit her apartment. She was a fine thief, something she had no doubt spent a long time perfecting, but I worked with the public.

“Please don’t steal the magazines,” I urged her.

“I paid for these, baby, this doctor charges me $500 just to talk,” Diana said.

“Well, they’re going to ask me what happened to them—I’ll be responsible for replacing them.”

“No, not okay, that’s arrogant and unfair. You’re just a kid and cannot possibly be expected to answer the phone, file papers, take a lunch break, then do the same thing until 5 o’clock while corralling unruly patients.”

“Are you making fun of me? I’m not stupid. I choose to be here and interact with the unruly patients, do my job, and find time to craft 200 Christmas cards by hand.”

“Big shit, I bet you never made a croquembouche while glancing up to make sure Pierre’s boogers didn’t fall into your nearly burning glaze.”

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“Is Pierre your boss?” I asked.

“Nobody has ever had that displeasure—he was my mentor and my friend. He died when AIDs had us all too scared to swap spit with anyone but WASPS.” Diana answered.

“The Princess of Wales wasn’t afraid. Have you seen Dallas Buyer’s Club?”.

“No, I refuse to see Matthew McConaughey in such a state.”

“It was pretty graphic—what are you always seeing Dr. Hales about anyway?”.

“That’s for me to suffer through and you to look at later when I leave, and you file it away.”

“I can’t look at your medical records, they’re all online now.”

“All the juicy stuff is. Since we’re doing personal questions, how long have you been married?”.

“I’m not, well, I hope he proposes soon. We’ve been together for a year, and I do everything I can to make him happy. He just seems so disinterested in me these days; I’m not really sure what to do if he doesn’t.”

“You’re making 200 Christmas cards and have no husband? You never fail to disappoint me, Greta. Come have a drink and read this Cosmo I’m taking home. You’ve been avoiding my invitation for years.”

I took a cab with Diana back to Manhattan after her appointment while my conscious and Changes by 2Pac blared in my head. We pulled up to a gorgeous brownstone that smelled like leather and rain. The first floor was all tile hallways lined in thick, pastel rugs with shiny, mahogany stairs-- her actual house was the next story up. Once we got in there, I sat down with my pack of smokes and decided I was going to stay for an hour, have a drink, and take 1 aspirin when I got home.

Page 4

Once I was settled, I rammed the business end of my flip-top box into the leg of Diana’s white director’s chair. I inadvertently bounced my curls and breasts, the latter nearly out of my shirt. I flipped the first cigarette I touched upside down, placing it back inside to pick another one, just like Pop- pop showed me. Diana noticed my ritual and nodded in approval.

“What’s up D?” I asked, sucking out my first draw.

“Well first, nice tits. Second, your options are now a sex lesson from me instead of the daft editors at Cosmopolitan or the greatest adventure of your young life.” Diana said.

“What’s more interesting than sex?” I responded, carefully tugging up my dress.

“Stamp collectors, the price of bananas, warts.” Diana said.

She walked over to the left of her living space, squinting to see the sunset out of the bright stained-glass window.

“I’m disappointed you didn’t pick the second option, Greta.”

“I don’t need another adventure, D. I’m already uncomfortable.”

“Your coming here is part of it, so just calm down. You won’t have to actually do much more, sweets.” Diana cooed.

“That croak in a bush thing you mentioned earlier sure sounded interesting.” I said as I surveyed her true crime selection. I noticed most were stolen library books, which seemed overly fitting.

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“You need professional help. Maybe this was a mistake.” Diana said.

“I don’t mean to be rude--I joke when I’m nervous.” I was enjoying myself more than I thought, but it was getting late. I’d had enough of deciphering these interactions for one day.

“I brought you here to give you something.” Diana turned on her heels and walked over to me. “Something I would give to my kid, save only for two facts: I cannot track him down, and I don’t have enough time to track him down. Either way, it will get passed on just as I received it: from strangers.

“You have a kid?” I asked.

“Yes, and I left him just like my parents left me, no family and no explanation but lots and lots of dough. Any more questions?” she said.

“Not right now. Except maybe for what exactly you want to give me?” I asked.

“More than you bargained for.” Diana said as she walked back to her window. She was squinting harder now, to see the stars through the thick smog.

I had worried when I got there that she was either going to kill me or seduce me. Although I think she could have easily done one, and certainly managed either, Diana didn’t bother me again until 2 days later: the Sunday after my visit to her, when I picked up the Times. She was dangling from a gaping hole where that stained-glass window had been, for all the world to see. No cat eyeliner, no hair, and wearing a suit. The glass on the ground below her had shattered in the shape of the Big Dipper.

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I excused myself from my parent’s breakfast table, taking page 6 and a lox bagel with me to my room. I wondered about a lot for the rest of the day, but the most unsettling of my ponders was the way D had looked. I knew she probably hadn’t started off as a lady, but I figured her masculine days had to have been far behind enough to disregard. I guess it made sense we got along, I was a sucker for complicated men.

I arrived early to work on Monday. Dr. Hales was also surprised that she’d killed herself, although he did admit he was not a psychiatrist. He’d spent Sunday much the same way I did as he had known her for a long time. Apparently, Diana used to be a Mr. David Dawson; her transition required hormone therapy when those medicines were not yet regulated. They caused a rare and aggressive cancer that would have killed her no later than Valentine’s Day. Dr. Hales was trying to reverse her damage, begging her to do chemo, but D had insisted on more hormones: male ones. My best guess was that D had too many regrets about transitioning, perhaps because it made her so sick. When it didn’t work, she killed herself. This was what I resigned myself to believe, and it made me feel better as well as it explained her strange behavior every step of the way.

For the first few weeks after D’s death, I worried about being questioned. I was the last one there, surely someone else knew that. The papers even called it a most unusual suicide, updating the public every so often on the charismatic chef who’d met a gruesome end before they eventually began to lose interest. On St. Patrick’s Day, I got a call from a guy who told me he was a lawyer who wanted me to meet him outside of Bay Ridge about a patient of Dr. Hales. He wouldn’t give any details, but I knew who it was about. Worst case scenario it was a setup to

Page 7

interrogate me about D’s death, best case it was information about her that further explained my narrative. I decided I would make an appearance, no matter how it shook out.

Finally, after 3 hours in gridlock, I arrived at a small, but clean hotel. The concierge handed me two credit card style keys. They unlocked the door to room 340, where I found no lawyer and no cops, but a short letter accompanied by a bank card, checkbook, and briefcase. The letter is where I learned of the more-than-I’d bargained-for gift D had set me up with.

Dear Ms. Cannuciari,

We thank you for your assistance in the removal of D.D., simply some of the most extraordinary work we have seen. He was our most beloved detective, but the betrayal we experienced was far too great. The sum is broken down into 1 million USD in $100 bills, which are lining the briefcase. A secure account with our financial institution will house the remaining 76 million USD until either the day you die or the day you speak of our transaction to anyone, for any reason. Mr. Dawson chose the option that’s no longer available, which is to have your genitals cut cleanly off with a Jian--we greatly implore that you do not Google that.

Thank you again, madam. We do hope you will work with us again sometime.

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