#I’m being v brave about it actually

[rosicheeks]

😬

#when you send a risky text and you instantly want to delete it #hahahahahahhaha #it’s ok #I’m ok #I’m being v brave about it actually #shut up rosie

[raisedbythetv89]

The writers I think mostly completely by accident with the assistance of James charming his way into becoming a main character created the perfect storm to ensure people who love spike would reach absolute peak levels of being completely obsessively deranged about him forever

Season 2:

He’s a punk rock villain with killer cheekbones, enchanting eyes, and an absolutely DEVILISH smile - who’s an incredibly dedicated and dangerous fighter who specifically seeks out challenging fights he’s not guaranteed to win (brave and reckless - normally traits seen in heroes) hates everyone except his mentally ill physically sick wife (the statistics of men who leave their wives when they get sick in the US is horrifying like nurses literally have to warn married women who get sick it happens so often) who he’s hopelessly devoted to and unbelievably soft with and always listens to her while also exuding a psychotic amount of sex appeal and is just F U N he loves being a vampire and he loves fighting and it makes it so much fun for the audience. While still showing how much he respects and admires his enemy for her skill, strength, resourcefulness, and intelligence - NEVER underestimating her just because she’s a tiny blonde girl - and instead of destroying the world for love he SAVES the world for love - a villain doing good to get the love of his life back who essentially dumped him for her ex????????? D E V O T E D and shockingly extremely trustworthy??? And has amazing chemistry with our heroine and is there for a pivotal moment in her life and is the only one there for her when she has no one else????? *enemies to lovers girlies ENTER THE CHAT*

Season 3:

He shows he fucking MEANS IT when he says Dru is the love of his life when he shows up in Sunnydale because he blames Angel not Buffy or Drusilla but the man actually responsible for all their problems and he is the most pathetic mess we’ve ever SEEN!!!! He’s crying and drunk all the time and he’s so sad he goes to Buffy’s mom TO TALK 💀😭 our pathetic sensitive little self admitted lover boy who KNOWS he’s love’s bitch and he won’t be pretending he’s anything otherwise who shows how clearly he sees and understands other people and the depths of his emotional intelligence so much so Buffy herself admits she can’t fool Spike she can fool her friends BUT NOT SPIKE OR HERSELF EXCUSE ME MA’AM WHAT???????

AND Spike doesn’t just uselessly MOPE forever he gets some perspective and is like I know what I’m gonna do to her back and I’m gonna go do that now! 😁👍🏻 showing he never stays down for long and is always gonna get back up to keep fighting for his love while BOTH he and Buffy still honor the truce even though he’s broken it by coming back??? While Buffy’s all “I violently dislike you” YEAH OK GIRL WHATEVER YOU SAY *enemies to lovers girlies chomping at the bit intensifies*

Season 4:

CLEARLY heartbroken about Drusilla (DEVOTED!!!) but it’s turned into anger and resentment directed at Harmony who how bizarre looks nothing like Drusilla but A LOT like Buffy…… hmmmmmmmmmmmmm HOW INTERESTING *enemies to lovers girlies are vibrating with anticipation that turns into a full blown combustion when something blue happens*

Spike doesn’t pretend to love Harmony in order to get what he wants from her (shown in direct contrast to Parker) he’s ironically very honest despite being a villain - he’s showing he’s STILL loyal to Drusilla in ONLY loving her even after she’s dumped him... again!

We see Spike treat Buffy the EXACT same way he treated Drusilla during something blue reaffirming THIS IS HOW THIS MAN LOVES WHEN HE LOVES YOU. He’s extremely affectionate, helpful, protective, caring - D E V O T E D - and is truly just the most certified lover boy we’ve ever fucking seen

Season 5:

SURPRISE HE’S SECRETLY A LOVESICK MAMA’S BOY POET AT HEART UNDERNEATH THE BAD BOY PERSONA AND A PROTECTIVE BIG BROTHER AND NOW BUFFY AND HER FAMILY’S MOST LOYAL DEFENDER AND IS WILLING TO DIE NOT JUST FOR BUFFY BUT FOR ALL THE SUMMERS WOMEN AND HE KNOWS AND SEES BUFFY SO DEEPLY AND INTIMATELY AND CAN HOLD SPACE FOR HER PAIN LIKE NO ON ELSE CAN AND SHOWS THE DEVOTION THAT ONCE BELONGED TO DRUSILLA NOW BELONGS TO BUFFY AND IT IS GOING NOWHERE EVEN WHEN SHE DIES AND WE'VE SEEN IN HIM CRY BEFORE BUT NEVER HAVE WE SEEN HIM BREAK DOWN LIKE HE DOES AT THE SIGHT OF BUFFY'S BODY!!!!!!!!!!!

*all of us screaming, crying, throwing up, climbing the walls and generally just losing our minds*

Season 6:

No soul, his love is so great for Buffy as is his loyalty and devotion to her, he now helps all of his dead love’s friends fight evil and is raising her sister and dreams of saving her every night for 148 nights 🤚🏻😭 don’t even fucking talk to me I can’t take it

Forgive the absolute 180 in tone change here:

Dick game is FIRE - his touch is the only thing that makes Buffy feel alive AND SHE WAS IN HEAVEN BRO SHE KNOWS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE IN HEAVEN AND SPIKE IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING HER GOING like damn girl yes YOU FUCK THAT HOUSE DOWN!!! Also he is now just naked 50% of the time just to drive us all even FURTHER out of our minds and somehow has just gotten even hotter as the seasons have gone on like this is what’s been hiding under the leather jacket all this time! Enjoy!

And THE MOST unintended consequence of jw’s vindictive writing:

SPITE

He clearly didn’t want us to love Spike and tried to manipulate us into hating him in such a blatant and clumsy ooc attempt all that did was weed out the weakest amongst the Spuffy/Spike fans until all that remained were us:

The most devoted and stubborn fans who REFUSED to have the thing they loved ruined or taken away from us and were smart enough to see through his bullshit manipulation attempt in the first place.

Genuinely they created the equivalent of supersoilder strength level fans with this absolutely lethal combination of events 💀

AND THEN as if all that wasn't enough he goes and gets his soul on purpose for Buffy so he can be the man she deserves and she can love him without hating herself for loving him despite the immense pain it will cause him which is the most selfless thing we have ever seen anyone do for Buffy only to be topped when he sacrifices himself to destroy the hellmouth, save the world and free her from Sunnydale!!! Plus ya know once he gets the soul even though he did it for her he never tries to use that as leverage to get anything from her like he truly expects nothing from her at all but still wants to help her and James delivers the most devastating performances we've ever fucking seen, finally tells her friends off which has needed to happen for 5 seasons, the "you're the one speech" him being a dad to all the potentials with Buffy giving us supernatural parent core who made it through their rough patch with their first kid in season 6 with Dawn and now are just the beautiful team with their found family and Buffy finally has someone who can truly carry her burdens with her and just all the tenderness and devotion they both deserve after so many years of pain and fighting. Basically giving the audience the message that even if you have a metric ton of pain and trauma there are people out there who see you and understand you and there is a chance for you to heal both together and separately to build your own version of a more normal and stable life. It's a message of such hope and I personally know several people, including myself who watched what Spike and Buffy have and it inspired us to look at the relationships we were in and realize we deserved SO MUCH MORE than what we were getting and in my case it turned out I was being emotionally abused and manipulated that entire time!! Much like Buffy was by both Riley and Angel. So it isn't an exaggeration to say Spuffy saved my life in a lot of ways both in being there for me at such a dark time and helping me draw a map of how to get out. Not to mention loving them in fandom spaces has helped me connect with so many people just like me who share very similar experiences and have helped me feel so much less alone and has helped me heal in so many ways 🖤

Spuffies get "hOw cAn yOu liKe sPiKe aFtEr wHaT hE dId" all the fucking time and truly the better question is how can you NOT like Spike???? HAVE YOU BEEN PAYING ATTENTION AT ALL??? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT GOOD RELATIONSHIPS NEED TO WORK?? BECAUSE AT THEIR CORE SPUFFY HAS THEM ALL!

It's jw writing so NOTHING will escape his toxic bullshit but Spike - because he was hated by jw for so long - so much of the time when he tried to make Spike less popular he just kept making him better and more complex and more and more targeted to the female gaze which is exactly why he snapped and made the choices he literally forced everyone else to go along with despite their protests with that scene to make it the most traumatizing scene in all of Buffy history not just for the audience but for the actors as well because yes it is incredibly horrific and upsetting to watch (which is why I skip it on rewatches) but I still am able to see if for what it is which is a narcissist lashing out at people he hates because he hasn't been able to control them and too bad for him I refuse to be manipulated by his bullshit so it failed completely and made so many of us that much more stubbornly protective of Spike and his and Buffy's relationship not just from other fans but from the creator himself 🙃🖕🏻like he basically just trauma bonded us to Spike and Buffy which has led to the creation of one of the most devoted, loyal, intelligent fanbases who is absolutely unhinged (affectionate) with their love of this character and his relationship which is why we are all still creating and writing about this character 25 year later and show absolutely zero signs of slowing down or stopping 💀

#spuffy #spike btvs #meta #btvs meta #spike and buffy meta #spike btvs meta #spuffy meta #also every spuffy I know shares so much life experiences and personality traits with buffy herself like we are often making choices #and judgements about the narrative from the perspective of buffy herself & we’re all picking spike #so many people who pick other love interests truly so often rarely see buffy for who she is either #if you don’t get spuffy you don’t truly understand buffy herself

[familyvideostevie]

october eighth

day eight: remus lupin you and remus fool around on a spooky path at night | 18+, minors dni, fem!reader, semi-public sex, unprotected sex | 1.9k detailed content warnings: fem!reader, semi-public sex (risk of being discovered, doesn't happen), unprotected p in v sex, fingering, little bit of dirty talk, little bit of praising, remus is a tiny tiny tiny bit mean, creampie

“Are you trying to torture me?” you ask. A cold gust blows down the forest path and you shiver, pressing harder into Remus’s side.

“Me?” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Never.” His arm is warm and heavy around your shoulders. You’d walk faster if you were less glued to him but you’re not about to pull away. The path is scary.

“Why are we doing this, again?” You look over at him. Remus looks lovely every second of every damn day but in tonight’s light from the full moon he’s practically glowing. The scars on his face stand out and you want to trace them.

“Because I have something to show you.” The harvest festival you’ve left behind is a dull road back down the path. You haven’t seen another person in almost ten minutes, even though you’re still technically on the fair grounds.

“You better not have something scary planned.”

Remus smirks at you and presses his lips to your temple. “Have faith, love,” he says. “I’m not going to terrorize you.”

You roll your eyes. The path is well traveled though deserted. The trees around you are tall, the color of their leaves still visible in the moonlight. It’s not quite a proper fall night but it’s pretty close.

“Why isn’t anyone out here? Whatever you want to show me can’t be that great if no one else wants to see it.” You’re teasing and Remus can tell. He tugs on your earlobe.

“We used to come out here in the summer, actually,” he says. “Not so much this time of year. Bit nippy.”

“Yeah, and creepy.” You’re speaking in a hush for no reason.

“Well, we came to see who would be brave enough to sneak into that.” He points in front of you and as you see a massive house rising out of the shadows at the end of the woods.

“Remus!” you gasp. “Fuck, that is scary!”

He laughs. He laughs at you. Unbelievable. He tugs you close, arms around you.

“Rumor says it’s haunted.” You believe it. The house itself looms in a way that cannot be natural. The siding is chipped and rotting, the windows nothing but broken glass with torn curtains flapping in the wind. It looks like the perfect place to get murdered.

“We are not going in there.”

“No,” he agrees, “we are not.” His hand rubs up and down your spine, warming you through your coat.

“Did you ever go in?”

“A few times, with James and Sirius,” he says. “Most everyone else who came down here was only interested in the house.”

You frown. “Is there something else more terrifying and more interesting that you idiots hung around for?”

Remus smirks and you know he’s up to something. Your buttoned up, calm, collected boyfriend has a devious side that still manages to surprise you.

He leans down and presses his lips to your ear. “This is where we’d come to snog girls,” he whispers.

Your breath stutters in your chest and you swallow and embarrassing noise at his closeness. “Oh?”

“Among other things,” he adds. He turns you in his hold and walks you backwards until you’re back in the trees, off the path a little bit. Your back hits the bark of a trunk.

“Other things?” you swallow. You see where this is going but you’re not sure how far he’ll take it. Already you feel hot under your layers.

He steps back into your space, pressing you against the tree, and drags his nose down your throat, nipping at your skin as he goes. “Would you let me do other things to you, darling?”

“Remus,” you gasp. “Remus, really? In the woods? Here?” Anyone could walk by. And yet…your legs clench at the idea.

“No one will see us,” he says, pulling away to look at you full on. “We’re off the path enough, I swear.” He rubs the skin under your eye with his thumb. “If you don’t want to I will happily take you home and fuck you in bed instead —”

“I want to,” you rush out. It’s the truth. Your sex life is healthy and fun and you like trying new things with him, but this is…something different. This is hot in a way you didn’t think fooling around outside would be. You like it.

“I thought I was the only one who went a bit wild under the full moon,” he teases. Smug bastard. You slide your hand down his chest and palm him through his pants. He’s half hard already.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. He grins wolfishly.

“Going to be quiet?” he says, whispering. The woods aren’t silent, but all you can hear is your own heartbeat and Remus’s breaths. You nod. “Good girl.”

You surge forward to kiss him. It’s teeth and tongues, sloppy but hot. Remus manages to undo his belt before leaving the button and zipper to you as he goes for your own pants, mouth never leaving yours until you pull away to spit in you palm.

He hisses when you get under his briefs to grasp his cock. It’s warm in your cold hand and you jerk him as best you can with his pants still on. “Fuck,” he gasps.

“What was that about being quiet?” you mutter. He kisses you again, tonguing into your mouth as he pops the button on your jeans. His long fingers find their way underneath your underwear and into your cunt and you moan against his mouth.

“Hush,” Remus chides. You pant into his neck, your grip on his cock haphazard as he circles your clit. “You’re soaked, darling,” he says. “You like this? Being out in the open like this? Where anyone could see how wet you are?”

You grasp his bicep with the hand not in his pants so you don’t fall over. “Oh my god,” you gasp. Who knew you were so into this?

“Not quite,” he teases. He slips two fingers into you and you bite down on his collar. “I’m going to fuck you right here against this tree,” he says, voice deeper than usual in your ear. “And then we’re going to go home and you’re going to ride me after I lap at your cunt until you scream.”

“Busy — ah — night.” Remus sucks on your pulse point and you clench around his fingers. He thrusts into your hand and then his touch is gone and you whine.

“Can’t have you wrecking my plan with those hands,” he says. “Step out of your jeans?”

You look around and see no one in the darkness. Remus pulls his boxers down a little further so he can free his entire cock and his balls. If you weren’t so desperate for him to fuck you right now you’d get on your knees, but instead you shimmy your pants down and step out of one leg. It’s not like you’ll be able to pull them up if someone comes by but not being totally bare makes you feel better.

“Now what?” The cool air makes your cunt clench and you can see that Remus’s pupils are totally blown. He crowds you against the tree so your back is against it once more and hooks one hand around your thigh to lift your leg. The mechanics of fucking like this worry you a little but you’re perfectly content to let Remus arrange you how he likes.

“Now I fuck you,” he says. He strokes himself a few times then lines up near your entrance, the tip of his cock brushing your clit for a few breaths.

You moan low in your throat. “C’mon,” you whine. Remus doesn’t wait any longer. He slide inside you in one movement, stealing the air from your lungs. He wraps one leg around his hip and taps the other. Between his firm hold and the tree, you’re fairly secure with both legs around his waist.

“So tight,” he says in your ear. “I’ve been inside you hundreds of times and you’re still so tight.”

You’re about to retort when some twigs snap in the darkness. You freeze and Remus stays where he is, face in your neck and arms steady, palms on your bare ass.

The trail is almost certainly out of sight but not far enough that you can’t hear a group of guys walking down it. “It’s not that scary, dude,” one of them says.

“Be quiet,” Remus reminds you and then he starts moving his hips. You swallow your moans as he drags his cock out and then in again, torturously slow.

“People used to fuck in these woods when we were younger,” another guy says. Their voices are already fading but it feels like they’re right next to you.

“If only they knew,” Remus continues. His lips are pressed to your ear, tongue darting out between every sentence. “I can’t believe they aren’t hearing how wet you are.”

You might explode. You might bite through your tongue. The group keeps talking but you can’t be bothered to listen anymore. There is laughter and under the cover of the sound Remus snaps his hips hard and you swallow a scream.

“Good girl,” he tells you. You clench around him. “They’re gone.” You can’t hear anything anymore except your blood pounding in your ears. Remus finally picks up the pace. The sounds must be obvious — your slick, his balls smacking into your ass, your panting. But you don’t care. The angle he’s getting is so good and it’s so hot that anyone could walk by and see you taking him and —

“How close are you?” Remus grinds out.

“Close,” you manage. “Close, Remus, keep going —”

“Me too,” he says after he licks a stripe up your neck. “Dirty girl, letting me fuck you against a tree, I’m not going to last long —

“Inside,” you blurt out. “Please, inside me, Remus.”

Your eyes are closed but he shifts his hold on you and uses one hand to grab your jaw so you’ll look at him. His pupils are totally blown and his eyes are wide.

“You want to — fuck — walk out of here with my cum inside you?”

You nod frantically and he grabs your ass again, picking up his pace.

“Anything, Remus,” you moan. “Anything, just — ah — don’t stop, I’m —”

His cock hits that spot inside you once, twice, three times, and you’re gone. Over the edge, head thrown back far enough that you thump it against the tree as you clench around him. He says your name like a prayer and his hips still as he spurts inside you.

“Fuck,” he hisses. You’re both panting and he gently guides your legs back to the ground even though you’re weak in the knees. Your jeans have almost come off the remaining leg entirely but you don’t care. Remus pulls out of you and without tucking himself back into his briefs he leans down to pull your panties back up your legs and around your hips, your jeans following. “Can’t lose any,” he says.

You laugh. “That’s filthy,” you say, breath still returning to normal. You can’t believe you just fucked in the woods.

He shrugs and puts his cock, shiny with you, away and fastens his belt.

“C’mere, Remus.” He obeys and cups your face with one hand. You kiss him gently, chastely compared to what you were doing before. “Let’s go home,” you say. “So I can blow you because I’m not kneeling on this nasty forest floor.”

He laughs loudly, so loudly you know that anyone walking by will hear. Good thing you’re not fucking anymore.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

#fvspromptober23 #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders fanfiction

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙚 — 𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣:

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 1.1k

𝙖/𝙣: last fic before hiatus! will miss you guys!

𝙩/𝙬: EEE JUST CUTE AGRESSION

𝒍𝒆𝒆: chan and minho

𝙡𝙚𝙧: minho and chan

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s🖤

note: please listen to We Go Down Together by Khalid and Dove Cameron while reading this...it hits harder lol [its also a really nice song]

Was Chan being bold and very brave? Yes. Did he hope that Minho would get mad? Yes. Did it work? Very much yes. 

The leader could tell why Minho enjoyed wearing the hoodie so much. It was very comfortable and oversized, even for him. 

But for one, Minho always wore it when he was in a lee mood. Usually, this was an expression that translated to ‘yes, you can wreck me now’ in Chan’s eyes, and Min was always his go-to if he had a ler mood. 

But now, it was quite a different situation. Chan’s lee mood had suddenly crept up on him and caught him off-guard, now he was in the mood to be wrecked in every spot until he went insane. 

And guess who was the best at that? Lee fricking Minho. 

So Chan waited for Min to return from dance practice, taking a small nap and relishing in the warmth of the dancer’s hoodie. 

He hoped Minho would actually be okay with him wearing it; Chan would never want to do something to make the younger uncomfy. 

Soon enough, Minho did return, walking into his room and smiling softly at the sight of the leader squished up so happily, asleep. 

‘Awh, look. The old man’s finally sleepi—wait. Is that my hoodie?’ Minho squinted, leaning closer and smiling wide when he realized it was. 

After a quick shower, he climbed into bed with Channie, grinning before suddenly slipping his warm hands up the hoodie and lightly tickling the older’s sides. 

Chan immediately startled and began to squirm away, the most adorable giggle making its way from his throat. 

“M—Mihin?” Chan asked, and Minho smiled at him. “Yeah?” 

“I’m wearing your hoodie.” Chan informed him. 

“I know. I think you look so cute in my clothes, hyung, I should let you wear them more often.” Minho cooed playfully, missing the big picture of what Chan was trying to imply. 

“I’m wearing the hoodie.” Channie squeaked again, burying his face in his hands and blushing. 

Then it dawned on Minho. ‘Ohhhh.’

A wide, evil smirk made its way onto Minho’s face. 

“Oh? Did you wanna get…wrecked by me?” Minho asked, fingers wiggling in front of Chan’s face; The leader was nodding. 

“Who am I to deny my love what he wants?” Minho snuck his hands under the older’s clothing again to tickle at his sides, and Chan kicked out a little through his giggles. 

“Mihihinho dohohon’t tehehease me plehehease!” Channie pleaded, though his begging fell on deaf ears as Minho’s fingers scratched around his belly next. 

”Fine, fine.“ Suddenly, Lino was changing positions, the older’s left arm pinned above his head as Minho straddled his waist. 

Confused, Chan asked Minho. “Why are you sitting there? Aren’t you gonna get me there?” 

Minho replied quickly. “Slow your horses, I’m just starting here.” His hands dart to the leader’s outstretched underarm. 

Chan let out an embarrassingly loud scream, crumbling under the dancer’s tickly fingers immediately as he submitted to the torture he would be forced to endure. 

Minho wrapped his legs tightly around the other’s waist, knowing how much he liked to squirm around. 

He continued to pull the cutest laughter from a very happy Channie. 

“…How about I try your little signature hoodie move, hm?” Minho teased, and Chan’s widened just as the cat lover’s head ducked below the edge of the hoodie. 

"N-No! That's my idea! It'll only work on you, not me!" Chan tried to protest, and Minho's eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"So, what. You're suddenly not ticklish anymore?" "Yes!"

"...You do realize how dumb that sounds, right?" Minho deadpanned, ducking beneath the leader's hoodie to place a sweet kiss on the older's tummy.

“WAIT MIHIN DOHOHOHOHOHONT! IHI CAHAHANT TAHAHAKE IHIHIT!!” Chan went absolutely ballistic as Minho began to blow raspberries and nibble at the sensitive skin of his belly and waist, his sides not being left out of the arrangement. 

Chan only then understood how much the sensation elated him, the highest pitched laughter echoing through the room as he was tickled without mercy. 

"PLEHEHEASE OHOHO MYHY GAHAHAHAHAD!!!"

Howled laughter was the only thing he could even get out. Chan felt satisfied and content; He had gotten what he wanted. 

When Minho began to nibble torturously over his v-line, Channie absolutely lost it, begging while feeling high at the intense tingly sensations spreading through his body.

"OKAHAHAY IHIHIM GOHONNA DIHIHIHIE!!"

Soon enough, Minho emerged from the hoodie, patting at Chan’s belly and climbing onto him, laying his head on the older’s chest. 

“Seriously, though. I have to dress you in my clothes. You’re making me have cute aggression.” Minho cooed, squeezing the leader's cheeks.

Chan wrapped his arms around the younger and flipped both of them over, immediately knuckling at the kitten's ribs and making him scream out in laughter.

"Guess who's also ticklish?" Chan teased, knuckling ticklishly over the boy's upper ribs.

"THIHIS IHIS UHUHUNFAHAHAIR!!! YOU CANT DO THIS TOHO MEHEEHEHE!!" Minho screeched, twisting and cackling.

"Oh, silly me? News flash, I'm your hyung. I can do what I want." Channie teased, and Minho's face flushed a deep red.

"PLEASE HYUNG NAHAAHAHAHA!"

"Hmmm...I wonder if my baby has a laughing button somewhere?~"

"NOHOHOHO NOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE!!!" Minho pleaded, Chan's fingers moving lower and slowing his movements to both give the younger a break and to torture him with his light strokes.

"H—Hyung...plehehease just do ihihit ahahanything buhut thihis!!" Lino giggled his heart out, just as Chan managed to stick one finger into his belly button.

Minho went ballistic, his high-pitched cackles were back in full force, and Chan relished in how easy it was to reduce the normally bratty kitten into a hysterical, begging mess in seconds.

"GEHEHEHET AHAHAHAHOUT!! IHIHI REHEHEALLY CAHANT—AARGH!" Minho gasped. He almost forgot how much it tickled to have fingers in your belly button.

"Continue giggling for me, and I think I'll just tickle you forever. Your laugh is so sweet~"

At that, Minho started to tear up a little. Both because of the tickles and because of the sudden surge of overwhelming fondness overcoming his senses.

"Crying already? But I wanna keep going!" Chan exclaimed in surprise, though his finger did go from torturously scratching Minho's belly button to tracing around the outer edge.

Minho laid there for a few seconds before sitting up and wrapping his arms around the leader, burying his head into the older's shoulder.

"Oh...Min."

Chan's fingers continued to trace at the younger's sides as he laid them both down, cuddles imminent.

Moods satisfied, the two went to sleep comfortably in each others arms, safe and snug, though Minho did giggle for a lot of the night due to some fingers interfering in his sleep.

#kpop tickle #midzywannabeitzy #stray kids #skz tickle #skz #lee!minho #ler chan

[nobedofroses]

A Different Kind of Sleepover

Summary: Joel Miller x fem!reader (no use of y/n). You'd never dreamed chaperoning a school dance could've led to this. 18+

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: daddy kink, kind of brat tamer!joel, unprotected p-in-v sex, edging, pillow humping, forced alcohol consumption (but consensually still, you'll see), degradation (whore, slut), and... I think that's it!

A/N: hello, first post in a while, which is what happens with a full time job, I suppose. But I am gearing up to do some posting during December, possibly a writing challenge, so heads up on that! Hope you like this, and I'd love to hear what you think!! xx

Directory

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Joel and you had become friends just over a year ago. You had met while you were chaperoning the underclassmen spring fling. Joel was there because of his daughter and you were there because you worked in the library at the school. Not enough parents signed up so you were offered extra pay for doing more hours.

You were standing by the punch bowl to make sure no one spiked it. Mostly it meant you had easy access to the chips, but it was official enough to look like you were doing your part. 

About 20 minutes in, you saw a flash of metal out of the corner of your eye and turned in time to see someone pocketing a flash. You took a deep breath, ready to berate some 15 year old for sneaking in alcohol when you actually looked at who had been holding the flask. 

It was not a 15 year old, in fact you’d guess that the man was about two decades older. Your eyes raked up and down his body, taking in his broad shoulders, well-fitting t-shirt with a flannel over top of it that did not hide his well-defined biceps, straight leg jeans that hugged his legs just a little too well for your ability to think, and then back to the large hand that had tucked the flask into his waistband, giving you a quick glimpse of his slightly soft tummy. 

You were in the middle of a thick swallow when his voice drew your eyes to his face. 

“Um, can you pretend you didn’t just see that?” he said sheepishly with just about the most charming smile you had ever seen. Accompanied by a strong aquiline nose, warm brown eyes, and scruff and a mustache, it was enough to make your knees a little weak. 

It took a lot for you not to bat your lashes, and say, “Whatever you want, daddy.” 

Instead, you actually said, “Sure, long as you don’t give any to the minors,” with a little laugh that you hoped sounded casual. 

“Oh hell no, they don’t have the discernin’ palates it takes to appreciate this stuff,” he told you, patting where the flask was. “Jack Daniels is only for the most refined tastes.” 

You laughed again, relaxed by his joking. Deciding to be brave, you stuck your hand out to him and introduced yourself. His hand was strong and warm when he shook yours and told you his name was Joel. 

Coming to stand next to you facing the dancefloor, Joel started making conversation, inadvertently making your thought process slow due to his closeness and the way you could smell his spicy cologne. 

“So, you must find it easy to connect with your students. I remember always gettin’ along better with the younger teachers because they weren’t as condescending when I was in school,” Joel started. 

“Oh, I’m not a teacher, I work in the library. They were short on parents so that’s why I’m here,” you explained. 

“You work in the library? You’re a librarian? Aren’t chaperones supposed to keep things from gettin’ too sexual? How does that work when half the boys here and I’ll bet some of the girls view you as a sexy librarian?” Joel said incredulously, looking up and down at your admittedly very cute outfit. But, being at work, it wasn’t revealing at all.

Chuckling, you said, “Because this is real life, not porn. No one’s exchanging any sexual favors to get out of late fines.” 

“Oh, so you admit you watch porn?” Joel said with a straight face. 

And as you covered your mouth with one hand to keep from laughing out loud and hit his shoulder with the other as he gave you a shit-eating grin, you knew that this Joel guy was someone that would make you laugh like this every day if you’d let him. 

Since then, the two of you had stayed in touch, usually getting dinner and drinks at the dive bar he frequented with his brother. There was always an undercurrent of sexual tension and lots of flirting, but he had a 14 year old daughter at home and you worked early. But it all came to a head the first week after summer break started when, at the bar again, Joel told you about the multiple day sleepover that Sarah had planned with her best friend two towns over and you had bragged about getting able to sleep in on a weekday for the first time in months. 

You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom and splash some water on your neck because you were getting in over your head with all the flirting and the way he was checking you out and how you kept touching his arms and hands. He was waiting for you in the hallway and the two of you made out until the next person came stumbling down the hallway and then again in his car in the parking lot and then as soon as he parked until you were on his bed on your back and he was grabbing a condom out of his nightstand. It had actually taken a second for him to find them because he apparently hadn’t had the need for one in a while and that made you smile and you almost offered that you go without, but since it was your first time together, you figured that was for the best. 

Sex had been amazing, but neither of you were looking for a relationship right then. Again, he had a daughter in high school and you had started your job just the previous year and wanted to focus on that. Plus, you weren’t ready to be a teenager’s stepmom anytime soon. After a frank conversation along those lines, you decided to stay friends who had occasional mind blowing sex, a situation that was very agreeable to you both. 

Over that summer, basically any time that Sarah was at a friend’s house overnight you were at his place, so long as you didn’t have other plans. Once the school year started again, the frequency went way down and you switched back to mainly seeing each other at the bar every other week, but when Sarah had any school trip or the occasional weekend sleepover, you were over. 

Summer was coming up again and you were excited to start things up again more consistently. Over the past six months or so, the two of you had been experimenting with different dynamics, but hadn’t had the time to really delve deep and take your time with things. Because you were only having sex maybe once every month or two, things were pretty frantic when you did, trying to make each other have as many orgasms as possible in the time you had. 

Last time, when you had accidentally called him daddy, both of you had cum very, very quickly, but Sarah had called right after you finished to say she was coming home that night instead of the next morning because she didn’t feel well. 

You had rushed out and there hadn’t been a good time to talk about it because Sarah hadn’t had any more sleepovers and you didn’t want to talk about it in the bar where anyone could hear you. 

So, you were left hoping that Joel wasn’t weirded out, had actually liked it as much as you did, and would let you do it again. 

Your chance came just three days into summer break when Joel called you because Sarah was leaving the next morning for a week-long trip to her friend’s house on South Padre Island. They wanted to soak up the sun before the humidity and heat of July and August. 

Plans were quickly made for you to come over that afternoon and stay the night, but you packed for more like three nights, just in case. 

Joel had the tv going when you arrived and he had snacks out in case you were hungry before dinner, but what you were hungry for couldn’t be satisfied by food. 

“C’mon Joel, can’t we just skip all the lead-up? It’s been too long, I want you,” you told him, stepping close and running your hands up his chest to wrap around his neck. 

You could tell he liked the touch but he tried to hold firm, not touching you back. “I just spent 15 minutes takin’ all this out and I’m hungry. It’ll take just as long to put it away.” 

Humming, you leaned forward to kiss at his neck and say, “Well, you could always eat while I go and slip into something more comfortable.” 

Joel’s hands rested naturally on your waist as he scoffed a laugh, “And leave me to pack it all away too? Real nice, honey.” 

At this you did pull back, “I didn’t ask you to put all this out and you could’ve ate before I came. If you don’t want to put it away alone, leave it until we’re done, it won’t go bad.” 

The tension between you was way more about not having sex in so long than it was about snacks, but you were okay with it adding a little heat to your doings so long as it didn’t delay anything too much. 

And Joel’s eyes were getting dark like they did when he was going to fuck you good, and you were getting warm because of it. But instead of kissing you like you thought he would, he grabbed your ass roughly and told you, “I’m not sure I like your attitude, sweetheart. Aren’t girls like you supposed to be good for their daddy?” 

Your legs just about dropped out from under you as your head spun at the sudden shift. You tried to say something, but all that came out was a moan as your pussy throbbed. 

But then Joel smirked and you regained just enough brain power to not want to give in so easily. If he thought you were being bad, you would show him just how bad you could be. So you leaned in for what he was sure to think was another kiss on the neck, but you bit where his neck met his shoulder instead. It wasn’t too hard, but enough to sting, and definitely enough to surprise him when he had been expecting your soft lips instead. 

While he was still exclaiming in shock, you pulled away from him and said, “I don’t think you’ve given me a reason why I should have a better attitude, daddy.” 

Your skin burned with arousal and defiance as Joel stared daggers at you. But not harmful daggers, more like daggers to cut all of your clothes off so he could have you naked. 

Walking away from him, you put an extra little swing in your hips and headed towards where he kept his whiskey, knowing he liked the sight of you drinking out of the cups that were normally just his. The more riled up he got, the hotter you were hoping the sex would be. 

He stood in the same place, just watching you and rubbing where you had bit him with his big hand. There was a mirror on the wall next to the cabinet that you could see him in, and fuck, he looked good. 

Opening the cabinet door, you grabbed a crystal rocks glass, his fancy ones that he didn’t use for every day, and poured yourself a couple fingers of whiskey. You didn’t actually like it all that much, but this was for show. 

Turning and lifting the drink to him in a cheers, you said, “This is what you should’ve done when I first got here, daddy. Polite hosts offer their guests drinks.” 

This comment totally ignored that he had offered you beer when you first got there, but being a brat wasn’t based in logic, just provocation. You took a sip, humming at the burn that made its way down your throat, and hoping that Joel would step in before you had to drink the whole glass. 

This intervention came even quicker than you had hoped. Joel crossed over to you in three long strides and yanked the glass out of your hand. It spilled some on the floor, but Joel didn’t seem to care, getting up in your space and staring you down. 

“Good guests don’t help themselves to expensive whisky and crystal glasses without askin’. And good girls shouldn’t talk back. If you’re gonna be a brat then I’m gonna treat you like one, honey. Let’s just hope it cures that smart mouth of yours,” Joel said in a gruff voice. He held up the whiskey glass to look at it, and you thought he was going to drink it, but then he said, “In fact, let’s see if this whiskey will help wash it out first.” 

Before you could ask what he meant, he held the glass to your mouth and started tipping it, leaving you to open your mouth and start drinking or get your whole front covered in whiskey as it spilled out. You went with the first option, gulping the strong alcohol down until it was gone and then sputtering and gasping when he pulled the glass away. 

Since you couldn’t talk right away, Joel smiled condescendingly and said, “There, already behavin’ better.” 

Your legs had turned to jelly and you could feel a mess between them as your cunt throbbed at just how dominant and mean he was being. It was making you dizzy with desire and you wanted his next act of domination to be bending you over the kitchen counter and taking you. 

But you were not so lucky. 

“You know what, sweetheart? Your idea did sound good. I think I will have that snack while you put on your pretty lingerie. But it might take me longer than that, so here’s what I want you to do.” Joel leaned in close, his mouth at your ear and his presence large and intimidating, “You’re gonna get on my bed, pick a pillow, and hump it like the dirty little whore you are. I want you wet and desperate for daddy. But if your hand so much as touches your cunt from outside your panties, you’ll have hell to pay. Got it?” 

There was no way to stop the little whine you let out, swaying into him because you truly could not stand up straight anymore. 

You managed to say, “Y-yes, daddy,” hoping for some sort of reward for at least answering his question. But Joel just grabbed your shoulders, turned you around so you were facing away from him and towards the stairs, and then put your bag in your arms. You stood there for a second without moving so Joel swatted your ass to get you going. 

“Go on, then. I’ll be up when I’m good and ready.” 

It took you longer than normal to go up the stairs because you were so weak in the knees, but you made it into his bedroom and went through your bag to find the lingerie. Your hands were shaking as you took it out, and you had to take it slow to get everything on correctly, but your anticipation just grew stronger as you hoped that Joel would like it. You had picked it out specifically for him. 

_____

Fifteen minutes later and your legs were burning from exertion. Not only had you not had sex for a while, but Joel liked to be on top, so grinding on top of the pillow was a lot more work than you were used to. You didn’t dare let up for even a second though, because Joel could walk in at any moment. 

While this was not your preferred method of getting off (mostly because you didn’t know how to angle the pressure and friction for it to be enough to get you off), you were ridiculously turned on. You wouldn’t be surprised if the pillow was getting damp. Just the idea of performing this ridiculously dirty task because Joel had told you to, because Joel wanted you ready for him was enough to get you feeling hot. Actually doing it and the physical sensations that followed were enough to get you desperate for him. Which had to be exactly what he wanted. 

Finally, just when you were really questioning how mad he would be if you stopped, Joel walked in the room. He looked the same as he did downstairs, which was devastatingly handsome and also very stern. 

“So I guess you can follow orders,” Joel commented, leaning against the doorframe. 

It was entirely too far away from you for your liking, not within reaching distance at all. Ignoring his question because you were too distracted by your need to listen well, you whined and entreated, “Joel, please.” 

Joel said a brow and looked at you harshly, “Don’t call me that. Either call me daddy or keep that whiny mouth shut.” 

Even though it proved him right, you whined, and stuttered out, “Y-yes, daddy. I-I’m sorry.” 

“That’s better.” As a reward, Joel took a few steps closer, standing at the edge of the bed but still so far away from you. It took a lot of willpower not to crawl across it to him, but you didn’t think you’d be able to keep humping the pillow at the same time, and he hadn’t told you to stop. 

Joel’s gaze raked over you and warmth spread over your cheeks and chest. His hand moved to his crotch to adjust his growing hardness and you were both flustered and gratified that he was getting hard by watching you. 

“Have you touched yourself?” His voice was quiet, but he didn’t need to be loud to hold your rapt attention. 

“No daddy.” 

“Good girl, now—” Joel was interrupted by your moan at the praise and he smirked. “Now honey, you’re gonna have to be quiet while daddy’s talking so you don’t miss any instructions. Can you handle that?” 

“I think so, daddy,” you said earnestly, looking at him with wide eyes. 

“Well, I appreciate the honesty, sweetheart, but you’d better or you’re gonna have another punishment to endure,” Joel said, casually reaching for his belt and undoing the buckle. You could’ve moaned, but you didn’t want to risk it in case he was about to talk. “Alright, honey, you can stop. And c’mere close to me at the edge of the bed.” 

You crawled over to where he was because you had a feeling he’d like that, and when he groaned watching you, you knew you were right. When you reached him, he helped you to kneel at full height so you were close to him. Intimidatingly close. 

His cologne was spicy and enticing and his handsome face made you all flustered and you were getting dizzy looking between his eyes and his lips, wanting to kiss him desperately. You didn’t realize, but you were leaning closer and closer and your breaths almost sounded like whines and you were pursing your lips a little bit, all nice and desperate how Joel wanted you. 

When he didn’t say anything and you couldn’t wait any longer, you said, “Daddy?” 

Joel felt his cock twitch at the word and how good you were being compared to how bratty you were earlier. He wondered if you’d be this good while he was fucking you. 

Instead of responding, Joel kissed you and you immediately melted into him, putting your hands on his chest for balance. Joel grabbed your waist and held you tight, his hard cock pressing against your stomach. After a bit, you’re hazy with lust and how good his kisses are and wanted more, so much more. You slid your hand down between you to palm his cock, moaning into the kiss so he would know how much you wanted it. 

He pulled back and smiled, “Yeah, honey? You want daddy’s cock? Why don’t you spread your legs nice and wide for daddy so I can check if this cunt is ready?” 

You swallowed thickly and nodded, parting your legs as Joel’s hand came between them, passing over the front of your panties and feeling how wet they were even from the outside. Joel cursed under his breath and pushed them to the side, sliding his fingers up your slit to your entrance. 

He lined up two fingers and started pushing them in, not fast enough to hurt but faster than you thought he would and you gasped at the stretch, “Daddy, oh—” 

Joel kissed you to distract you, and also because you were so fucking cute. After they were in all the way, he started fucking them into you firmly to make sure there’d be no resistance when it came to his cock. He was planning on fucking you hard. 

You could barely stay upright with what his fingers were doing to you, grabbing onto his strong shoulders tightly to try and keep steady. They just felt so good and you knew his cock would feel better and wanted to plead with him for it but you didn’t know if that would be wrong. If you would be punished. 

The idea of punishment was both very hot and scary. If it was something tolerable like spanking or overstimulation, you’d risk it, but who knows what Joel would do? Based on what he had you do before, you worried he might just edge you and then fuck you and then not let you cum all night. Which would truly be a travesty. If you were going to ask, you needed to be real, real good and careful about it. 

You moved your hand back down to his cock to remind him of how hard he was, and show him how good you were being to want to pleasure him too. 

Joel moaned and pressed his hips into your hand. You took the encouragement and squeezed more firmly, using your thumb to find his head and rub little circles on it.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he muttered, pulling back from the kiss to breathe deep. 

You took the opportunity to kiss his jaw and neck and then say sweetly in his ear, “Daddy, can I please have your cock now? I wanna feel you fill me.” 

Joel shuddered as your cunt clenched around his fingers, apparently just at the thought of having his cock. Which meant, of course, that he couldn’t make you wait any longer. Or himself. 

“Alright, honey,” he told you, pulling his fingers out of you quick enough you squeaked at the empty feeling. “Sorry, sweetheart, I know how slutty your cunt is. But why don’t you take off those cute panties and get back by the pillows for me. The one you used.” 

You whimpered quietly and moved away from him, doing as he said and feeling dirty when you had to lay on the pillow you had grinded on. You parted your legs and waited for him, hoping you looked patient because you sure didn’t feel it. 

Joel undid his belt buckle, switching between looking at you and your cunt. You squirmed but kept your legs open even though it was so hard. To distract yourself from feeling so flustered, you watched his hands instead. His hands that were so big and strong and touched you so well. His hands that were tugging down his pants and you could see how hard his cock was in his boxer-briefs. His hands that were pushing those down too. His hands that were wrapping around his hard cock, stroking it. His hands that you were incredibly jealous of. 

Even from across the bed, Joel could see your pussy clenching around nothing as you watched his hands on his cock. It was a terrible torture not to just fuck you immediately, but it was worth it that you were in worse agony of desire. He wanted you begging. He wanted you to admit that you were reliant on him, on pleasing him to get what you wanted most. He wanted you to be perfect and obedient for him, and he knew he would get it. 

“Tell me what you’re gonna do if I fuck you,” Joel commanded and he was rewarded for his threat of not following through with your shining, pleading eyes and a whine. 

“A-anything. Anything you want, d-daddy,” you said earnestly, chest heaving with how worried and turned on you were. 

“That’s right, good girl,” he said as he walked around the bed, pulling off his shirt and you just had to sit there and watch and not touch him even though you wanted nothing more. But thankfully, he started getting on top of you right away and you fisted your hands in the comforter so you didn’t touch, but you were getting light headed from holding back so much. He got settled, your only contact his thighs just barely against your ass and as he knelt above you. Even just that little touch made goosebumps spread out along your skin and you sighed in pleasure as if he was touching your clit. 

And then he shifted forward just a bit and his cock rested on your slit. A loud whine escaped your mouth and you winced but Joel just smirked. 

“It’s alright, honey. Now that I’m gonna take your pussy with my cock, I want to hear all your dirty sounds. It’ll get me off faster,” he told you and heaven help you, you whined again. 

Then he gently grabbed your hand and guided it to his cock, “Put it in, sweetheart, show me how much you want it.” 

You couldn’t help but stroke his length at least once, bumping your clit in the process and moaning in surprise. To keep from getting in trouble, you pushed his cock to slide down your folds until it notched at your entrance and then guided it inside as much as you could. Then it was up to Joel, but he wasn’t moving and his cock was only a couple inches inside of you. 

At first, you thought he was making sure you’d be obedient, but then you remembered that he wanted to see how much you wanted it. You got flustered as you realized that it probably meant he wanted to hear just how much you wanted it. 

“P-please, J— daddy, please fuck me. I need your cock s-so bad,” you ended your plea with a breathy whine and then each breath after made a little sound too as you waited impatiently for him to fuck you. You really felt that if he didn’t soon, you might throw a fit. Or start crying. 

But thankfully, thankfully, Joel smiled and said, “Well, if you need it.” He started pushing in the rest of the way and the way you sighed in relief, like his cock was what you had waited your whole life for, was sinful.

“Oh daddy–” what you were going to tell him you didn’t even know as you tightened around the perfect full feeling of his hot, hard cock. You didn’t even know what would be better, him staying inside of you like that forever or him starting to fuck you. Both sounded heavenly, but your mind was so muddled from desire that you couldn’t think straight long enough to think properly. 

Luckily, Joel did the deciding for you. He stayed fully seated inside of you for just long enough for you to relax around him just enough that he slipped just a little deeper and then started to fuck you. 

Joel always liked to fuck you as deep as he could. Instead of pulling out all or even half of the way, he thrusted into you shallowly as you moaned and writhed beneath him. The length of his cock would rub against your g-spot perfectly, stretching you out enough that your clit was more sensitive on the outside. The thick base of his cock grinded against it, and when you squeaked in surprise as if you were so dumb with pleasure that you didn’t remember the last time, Joel’s cock would twitch inside you. Your cunt would clench around him, he would groan, and the whole cycle would start over again until you were keening with pleasure.  

“I’m— oh— daddy!” you cried out as your orgasm came careening towards you. It was all you could do to breathe as you tried to hold on until he told you you could cum, one of the most horrible and mind-bogglingly hot things he made you do. 

Joel grunted above you, trying to keep his own orgasm under control. He liked being able to fully experience watching and hearing yours before he lost himself in his own, but damn was it nearly impossible sometimes. 

So his voice came out a little shaky as he said, “What honey? You gonna cum?” 

Since he didn’t have time to make you wait and honestly did not have the brainpower to come up with longer sentences, you serendipitously got straightforward questions that were much easier for your fucked out brain to understand. 

“Pl-e-e-ease,” you said through a long moan and then gasped, adding, “Daddy!”

Whether you had said it because you knew you were supposed to or because of the intense way your cunt clenched around him as it started to cum, Joel didn’t know. What he did know was that if he didn’t give you permission right this fucking second, he’d have to stop and give you a ruin. 

But it had been so fucking long since you came on his cock that as fantastic as that sounded, he couldn’t let it happen. 

“Cum, sweetheart, cum for your daddy,” he commanded softly, not needing to raise his voice at all to get you to feel that he had absolute and complete control over whether you did. 

You moaned so suddenly your voice broke and all you could do was silently sob as pleasure rained through every inch of your body out from your cunt. It was so intense that your legs squeezed, coming up and together until Joel was pushed halfway out of your cunt. But as much as this orgasm was for you, it was also for him, so he shoved your legs apart and pushed himself in deep again, watching your jaw go slack and eyes roll back as it sent another wave of pleasure through you. 

Joel watched each moment of your orgasm on your face, waiting until that moment where your eyes came just a fraction back into focus and looked at him with that look of disbelief. That’s when he came. He wanted you to feel every single second of him filling you up with his thick, hot cum. Because he knew you almost loved it more than him. 

He pushed into you as deep as he could go, grinded into you one more time until your broken voice managed a whimper when his pelvic bone brushed your clit, and then let himself go. Joel came, humping it into you while you basically came again, another, much smaller, round of pleasure pulsing in your pussy. 

Joel always, always, came with a moan of your name that bordered on a whine and it was the most gratifying thing in the entire world. To know that this fucking hot, sexy, prime-cut of a man was surrending himself to the pleasure that you created was easily as satisfying as any orgasm you had by your own hand (the ones made by Joel were ridiculous and didn’t count for this comparison). 

This time, as he finished cumming and started to come down, you were mostly through your aftershocks but sinking into the subspace where you literally never wanted to stop touching him. Luckily, since this happened every time things were more than a quickie, Joel knew exactly what to do before you even had to think about saying something. 

Bracing himself just enough to not cause either of you bodily harm, Joel let himself fall on top of you, crushing your body into the soft bed below you as you let out the happiest sigh of relief. 

Joel leaned his head to kiss your neck, moving up in a slow but steady line to your mouth. By the time he got there, you could breathe again, and were ready to kiss him back, slow like honey because he had worn you the fuck out. 

These types of kisses were only shared during aftercare, much too sensual and slow for how the two of you felt in the lead up to sex. But that’s partly why you loved them so much. They were always bathed in the post-orgasmic glow that you could feel radiating between you and Joel. They also didn’t require as much thought, which was good when your head was still fuzzy. 

After a bit, Joel pulled back and then kissed the corner of your mouth, “How do you feel, honey?” 

“Mmm, good. Maybe more kissing still,” you told him, which was also a subtle reminder that he was not allowed to pull out yet. 

Joel kissed you again, but not for as long. When he pulled away this time, you asked, “So you do like daddy then, huh?” 

He chuckled, “I thought that was obvious the first time. But you tell me, sweetheart, do you really like being’ a brat, or do you like being’ daddy’s good girl?”

If you could’ve moved underneath him, you would have squirmed, but since you were trapped, you had to reply, “I like it when daddy makes me his good girl.” 

The sound Joel made could only be described as a growl and it sent a thrill through you, “You just be careful not to be too bratty or you’ll have a hard time walkin’ for a week.” 

If your cunt clenched around his less than half hard cock, that really wasn’t your fault. But you couldn’t help asking, “Because you’ll spank me?” 

Joel gave you a dangerous look and your breath caught, “That won’t be the only reason, sweetheart.”

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#smut #fic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #a different kind of sleepover #nobedofroses

[galebrainrot2024]

Gale x Tav Enemies to Lovers Part V

Gale’s POV. I know I’ve been switching between the two and the last part was his perspective and I think this is the best artistic choice to move the plot forward, I think how Gale navigates Tav’s silence is a more compelling perspective. Not to worry, you’ll get Tav’s too, just next ;) 

still editing and such atm, but enjoy!

Twenty five days. For twenty five days Gale remained on the sidelines waiting to be beckoned into battle. Waiting for Tav to speak with him, to apologize. The more time dragged on, the more irate he became and the more the gnawing in his chest grew. Gale was in dire need of a magical artifact and refused to be the first to yield. He would ask the others before he asked for her help with this again. If she wanted to ignore him, fine. He had locked himself in a tower in isolation for a year, after all, cast out by his former lover and goddess of magic. He was accustomed to being ignored and to ignoring. 

The idle mind was Gale’s primary enemy, apart from the absolute and tadpole in his brain. The first few days, Gale thought little of Tav’s avoidance. They must be ashamed, he thought, embarrassed to broach him. Yet, she didn’t so much as glance in his direction and avoided the campfire when he was preparing their meals. Due to the incredible amount of downtime he now had, the meals grew in sumptuousness to his companions delight. He even managed to salvage stale bread they looted, turning it into delicious, crusty toast for a strew. Tav dodged Gale expertly, rivaling Mystra’s ability to deny attention, shutting him out except for necessary pleasantries. The tension between them made their companions exchange knowing glances during meal times, awkwardly dancing around the lingering animosity that seemed to fester whenever they were near each other. 

After the first ten-day of the cold shoulder, Karlach was brave enough to poke her head into Gale’s tent where she found him sulking. “Oh, come on you, quit sitting around and eating dirt. Enough skulking, it’s too fucking sad mate. You’ve licked your wounds long enough and won’t even give us a bit of gossip of what you’re on about. Let’s go do a bit of exploring of our own, the fresh air will do you some good.” 

Gale started, his head snapped up from the paper he was inscribing. “No.. I couldn’t possibly,” he said, casting his eyes back towards the paper. He felt Karlach come up behind him and he flipped it to conceal his ramblings. 

“Alright… keep your secrets.” She said, winking at him. “Now come on, I’m bored.” She danced back in forth on her feet like an eager puppy. Gale couldn’t help but smile, her optimism infecting him as much as his dark mood. 

“Fine. I’ll indulge you.” Gale said, rising from his seat and then winced, grabbing his chest. “Oh, for the love of the gods…” Gale doubled over for a moment, groaning. Karlach rested a hand on Gale’s back and he winced from the heat of her hand. 

“Oh, sorry!” She pulled back her hand and kneeled beside him. “Woah, easy. Are you alright mate? Need a magical item or something?” 

“Actually..” Gale’s eyes widen and he raises an eyebrow, “If… if you’d be so kind… I’d be indebted to you.” Gale had needed one for quite a while and refused to ask Tav for one and she had not offered. Tav’s evident lack of concern for his condition made his stewing worse, made him conjure up countless monologues that he would inflict upon Tav, the narrative he spun in his mind dangerously untrue - but, such are human emotions. 

Karlach shrugged and took off one of her rings that Tav given to her earlier. Gale knew the magic in this ring to be especially potent and shook his head, “Oh, I couldn’t… this is too much.”

“Cut it out and eat the damn thing, would you? I hate being left at camp and refuse to let us sit around moping. It’s too damn depressing and there’s already enough to be depressed about.” Karlach insisted and Gale absorbed the magic, but the orb felt insatiable. 

Karlach sensed his distress and Gale’s face contorted in confusion as he wondered. “It doesn’t seem to be having the effect it should… it’s no matter. I can endure it.” His voice was strained and he grunted as he pushed himself up by his knees, gesturing for Karlach to lead the way. 

She grinned and cackled. “Fuck yes, let’s go go!” 

*** 

Karlach started tossing rocks into the brook, trying to skip them, her tongue sticking out of her mouth with focus. “FUCK!” She protested and Gale let out a hearty laugh. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get it soon enough.” He sat on the grass behind her, watching as she searched for the perfect, flat stones to skim across the calm waters. 

“I used to be so good at this.” Karlach huffed, bent over and searching the ground. “All that time in the hells and I forgot how to do the little things. It’s maddening. Ah HA!” She exclaimed triumphant and lifted an oval, smooth stone to show Gale. “Lookie here, this one will do the trick. Watch this.” Karlach spun and flicked the rock and Gale bit the insides of his cheeks as it sunk eagerly to the bottom of the brook. “Oh come ON.” She let out a defeated sigh and laughed at herself. “Well. That was anticlimactic.” Gale admired this quality in Karlach, despite set back and failure she didn’t allow it to dampen her spirit. If only he could say the same for himself. 

Karlach came to sit beside him and laid back on the grass, a long piece of it in her mouth. The edges of it singed from the heat. “Alright. Indulge me. Why is Tav avoiding you.” Gale started at her question and shook his head but Karlach sat up, her tone suddenly serious. “You can either tell me or I can ask Tav at dinner for a bit of a show. Which would you prefer?” Although her tone was playful, Gale knew she was one to follow through on her threats. 

He sighed, the weight on his shoulder’s ever burdensome. “Where to even start…” Gale ran his hands through his hair and fingered his earring thoughtfully. “The.. the night of the party we had a bit of a disagreement.” 

“A bit is an understatement.” She looked at him suspiciously, “We couldn’t hear what you were saying, but your raised voices weren’t exactly subtle. Besides…” Karlach says, sitting up, “You were always at Tav’s side before that. Now she doesn’t even look at you and you avoid one another like the plague. It’s not exactly subtle and we all have our theories.” 

Gale cocks an eyebrow and then squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tav… well, the long and short of it is this: we were both students at Blackstaff Academy.” 

Karlach’s laugh interrupted Gale and she slapped her knee. “I fucking knew it. I knew you two were too familiar with each other.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s a vibe man, I don’t know. If you could see what I see,” she said, fiddling with a new stone that she chucked into the water. “I thought for sure you were hot for each other.” 

Gale felt the blush spread across his cheeks and he laughed blackly, “Oh. Well. Certainly hot in one way or another.” He sighed again, continuing, “Tav was rather angry I did not disclose my remembrance of her, despite her doing the exact same thing, might I add.” He said, raising a finger to point it at Karlach as if to emphasize his point. “We.. were sharing a moment in the Weave.” Karlach’s look of confusion indicated his need to explain so he did so, in respectful terms of what it meant to have that connection together. “After that, when she had seen I knew.. she was furious. I’d seen her that way in our youth and when she confronted Kagha... I didn’t expect it that night. She said something rather cruel and has left me to solitude and idle the days away. And I, for one, will not be the first to break the impasse.” 

Karlach smirked and laid back on the grass. “Do you think your stubbornness might be a hinderance to you in this situation Gale? Respectfully, I mean.” Gale pursed his lips and his silence gave her answer. “Ah. Well. When the two of you decide to be adults and speak to one another, make sure I’m around to see it. Wouldn’t want to miss any of the fireworks.” Karlach turned her head to look at Gale now and her tone was sincere, “I appreciate you sharing this with me. It can’t be easy - you’re a tightly locked book, you know, and your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Oh, good,” Gale said and snorted a bit, grinning, “I’d hate to add to Tav’s avoidance of me. If she knew I was telling you this.. well, I doubt she’d take kindly to it.” 

Karlach scoffed, “Agreed. The two of you have that in common. Both so sure of yourselves and yet so afraid to be honest with each other. A hard truth, mate, but a truth all the same. You’d have thought you hated each other.”

Gale grimaced, “You have no idea how close to the truth you are.” With that, they let the silence drape over them and Karlach returned to skipping stones, the sounds of the breeze wafting through the leaves and birds song sending Gale into reverie. 

*** 

“Will you travel with us?” Tav didn’t look up from her porridge, her voice tight and the companions froze expectantly - the question was directed at Gale and he paused, intaking his breath through his teeth. Twenty five days she had waited to speak a word to him. 

“Suddenly in need of my help? How big of you, to swallow your pride. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Gale said in an almost sing-song voice and he heard Karlach snicker. Shadowheart’s mouth was agape and the rest looked at Tav, the glower she shot to Gale dripping with distaste. 

“Will you travel with us, or not?” Tav said through gritted teeth, her eyes fixed on Gale’s. 

He grew hot and his heart pounded wildly. It was the first time she looked at him since that night and he had forgotten how much it made him stir. Gale softened a bit, admiring the ferocity of her gaze, glancing down to her lips. She likely tasted of this mornings brew. Gale shook his head and glanced away, clearing his throat. “As you wish.” 

With that Tav nodded curtly and stood, beginning to collect her gear. Shadowheart and Karlach scarfed down the rest of their breakfast, readying themselves for the day. 

“Oh darling, I’m hurt,” Gale heard Astarion’s melodic voice waft through the air and he cringed, “I thought we had something special,” Astarion pouted at Tav. Gale had seen how close he and Tav had been as of late. It made Gale’s innards writhe and knot, making him sick to his stomach in a way he hadn’t felt in quite some time. 

“Please just stay here,” he heard her say to Astarion - her voice was still kind despite her dismissal of him. Gale watched as Astarion squeezed her shoulder in an overtly familiar way, leaning down to whisper something in her ear and Astarion glanced at Gale. A slow, wolfish grin spread across Astarion’s lips as if in a challenge. As if he meant to goad him. Gale’s vision blurred, envy flaring its ugly head. Gale turned away to prepare for the day ahead. 

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 brainrot #bg3 gale #god gale #baldurs gate 3 #gale #bg3 art #gale x tav #gale romance #baulders gate 3 #baldur's gate gale #baldur's gate 3

[waywardcrow]

Timeless.

Chapter IV.

Summary: 1943. 1975. 2024. Three different decades, three different lives, three different times your life and Bucky's interwined; he lost you twice, will he do it again?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader.

TW: It can change each chapter but themes of Bucky as soldier and as the Winter Soldier in general, flashbacks and dreams in italics like this, lots of feels, reader's being a little anxious, some stalking lol, a brief sex scene (p in v), very bad written smut, implied domestic violence (not from Bucky), murder mentioned, past lives, past 40'sreader is mentioned to be named Beth but that changes for 2024 version of her so I nicknamed her little bird for Bucky, Ace for everybody else, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: Please remember english is not my first language so if I make a mistake or forget something let me know.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Previous chapter <;<<

You were fired, that wasn’t a surprise.

Mia Alexander didn’t sue you for every penny you had, that was shocking.

But getting a call from Pepper Potts herself, that was the real main event of your whole life.

She asked you to go and pay her a visit at her office in the Avengers tower, like if that didn’t send you in a spiral of bliss and terror, what will you wear? What could a woman like her want to talk with someone like you? Even if Sergeant Barnes –Bucky, you reminded yourself- told her what had happened in the gala, she might be mad at you.

Your head begun to think in the possibilities all the way there, considering that this was the reason why Mia didn’t sued you, maybe Pepper Potts would do it.

When you finally arrived to the tower your stomach was in knots, not even your lucky outfit made you feel better but like every other day in your life you sucked it up and walked to the front desk.

“Hi, I’m here to see Miss Potts?” you said, making it sound more like a question and the receptionist stared at your vintage midi skirt and blouse like he understood your hesitation. You offered him a smile before telling him your name so he looked for it in the screen in front of him and gave you a visitant pass.

“Third floor, follow the hall, last door in your right” he said and then went back to his screen.

“Oh, ok, thanks” your neck was hot with embarrassment when you reached the elevators and just became more evident when you got in and someone else did too.

“Good morning, third floor too?” Scott Lang, THE Scott Lang, asked you and you could only nod like an idiot. He did a double take on your face and smiled “hey, I know you; you are the girl who throws champagne at evil bosses.”

You were turning purple, it was a sure thing.

“What?” it was all you said.

“Yeah, the other night you did an incredible stunt, Sam told us everything” so Captain America knew too, great. Scott must saw something in your expression because his changed “is ok, seriously, when we hear what she did no one blamed you for it, I was sure Hope was about to kick her ass and don’t let me start with Yelena” your head was spinning “I think it was brave and more subtle than ruining your boss company and driving a car to his pool”

That earned a strangled laugh from you.

“Are you going to see Miss Potts too, Mr. Lang?” you asked when the elevator doors opened again and you walked with him.

“Actually I’m going to see Maria Hill but I’ll see you later” he smiled at you with such honesty that you relaxed for the first time in all day, making your way to your destiny you noticed the front desk for Miss Potts assistant was empty and you were just on time which was as good as being late.

Without not knowing what to do, you knocked at her door.

“Come in”.

Taking a deep breath, you did it squaring your shoulders and trying to tell yourself everything would be fine.

“Good morning, Miss Potts, I hope is ok I called, there was no one and-“

“It’s completely fine” she said gesturing for you to sit in front of her and went to address your formally even if contradicted her next words “Please call me Pepper, everyone does.

There was something about her, a professionalism that was inspiring but also made her approachable and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Only if you call me by my first name too”

“It’s what you like to be called? Because Sam told me about your friend calling you Ace when he went with Sergeant Barnes to the hospital, I think it fits you” at her words it was impossible not to blush again; first of all because of the mention of Bucky, the recurrent thought of your head the last days and then because of the nickname Harper gave you.

“I mean, yeah, my friends call me that” it was an exaggeration, you only had one friend.

“Maybe we should stick to it, between me and you Pepper is not even my name but I think is perfect for me” there was something like nostalgia in her eyes but she didn’t let you think too much about it “and I like that my employees feel comfortable when we talk.”

“Excuse me, what?” it was really embarrassing how you couldn’t form a decent sentence in front of her.

“I would like you to be my assistant, Ace” she said and then your life really changed.

Bucky still could tasted you, the other you, the one who reincarnated and was born in a rich Italian family in 1950, the one that somehow found him when he was The Winter Soldier.

He wasn’t supposed to fuck you in your fiancée’s car, well ex fiancée, you couldn’t marry a dead asshole. His mind couldn’t know why he needed you that bad but his body did, Bucky was sure it was the conditioning what made him be such a caveman with you but the truth was, you were his mirror back then.

You wanted him since Lucas bragged about his connections to Hydra and how they lend him their best asset to protect the arsenal his father’s company will provided for them. Your whole attention was in the silent assassin who looked at you like you were everything he could ever want.

Lucas wasn’t great with you, his little bird, that’s why he snapped his neck and took you away, sometimes his nightmares will let him breath and remember you surrounding him, riding his cock, high in pleasure, telling him that you loved him before you both were found and he was dragged back to Hell.

As a small blessing, he didn’t remembered that while dreaming, Bucky was too lost on you, in the salty taste of your skin against his tongue when he traced the valley of your naked breasts with it.

“Give me one more, little bird” he ordered, thrusting in and out of you with an incredible skill considering the small space “drench my cock again.”

His english was perfect with you, no sign of hesitation, not remembering he wasn’t supposed to speak it so naturally when it wasn’t necessary; the Brooklyn accent showing up without effort.

“I- I can’t” you sobbed, drunk on him, your body asking for more.

“You will” his metal hand let go your neck to play with your clit, the cold metal sending you to your climax once again, taking him with you.

The softness of your skin against his was the last thing he remembered before waking up.

Harper called you when you got back home and screamed when you tell her the news; she made a joke about coming to work with you so she could see Sam Wilson every day, making you feel better. Since you convinced your parents go and have the retirement they deserved, Harper was the only one you had and she was more than what you deserved but sometimes you wished for more, for someone to go home to.

Like a fool, your mind went to Sergeant Barnes; you needed to thank him for what he did for you.

If not for him, you would have be ruined but how could someone put that in a thank you card?

Maybe you could bake something for him.

Bucky likes apple pie.

The thought came out of nowhere with an intense hint of pain between your eyebrows, what was that?

Maybe a nap would help, your new job waited for you and this was the chance you dreamed of, ruining it wasn’t an option.

When Bucky went to check on you that night, you were already sleeping in your couch, making very difficult for him to let you there. Of course he could break in and carry you to your room without waking you up but it would make you feel unsafe.

It was hard for him to go back to a civilian life, or the closest he could have, his actions needed to be careful, especially around you. It was also torture he remembered almost everything and you nothing at all, that he couldn’t tell you about that night on your porch in 1943 or your breakfast with him, Steve and the Howlies when your unit was sent to Europe and destiny brought you both together again, he couldn't tell you about that time in Italy.

Bucky wanted you to know everything but you will never believe him, in the best case you'd believe it was a joke or a proof of him losing his mind but you could also believe him dangerous –which he was- and get away from him where Bucky would not be able protect you.

Sited there in your fire escape, he started to memorize every part of you he could see through the darkness, if that was all he could have from you, he would make it be enough.

Tag list: @cjand10 @bunnyforhim @cookingdancingchick

Next chapter >>>

Hello lovelies! Sorry for bringing this short chapter, I tried to start going through their past lives but witout giving so much details so this don't gets very confusing, if it still is please tell me so I can work on it, what de you think? I'll love to read about it in the comments!

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #40s bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst

[dcangel]

hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

#the maze runner #tmr thomas #tmrthomassmut #thomastmrsmut #thomas tmr

[phillippadgettwrites]

The First Time, Every Time: Fire

Rated X / 3377 Words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Scully’s suggestion that he take her to lunch wasn’t a serious one, but he takes her anyway. He’s too distracted in the wake of Phoebe’s surprise visit to get any work done at this point, and he figures he owes her one after she single handedly solved the case while he was busy being mindfucked by Scotland Yard’s finest. He takes her somewhere just a little bit dingy with a full bar, the kind of place they aren’t likely to run into any of their cohorts from the Bureau. While they’ve never directly discussed it, he’s sure she’s aware there’s some gossip circulating about them, and though it’s entirely baseless, it’s best not to feed the beast in his experience.

He’s a little embarrassed that Scully bore witness to the power Phoebe clearly still has over him. He’s a little embarrassed to learn that, even ten years later, when she says jump he still asks how high, and then tries to double it. The moment she kissed him he felt like that naive college boy again, so starved for affection that he’d take it from the teeth of a snarling dog and then thank it for biting him.

He suspects that Scully only orders a drink so he’ll feel comfortable doing the same, though she reasons that she doesn’t really have anything else that needs finishing today, so it’s not an issue if her afternoon is a total loss. She’s actually a really good friend, now that he’s thinking about it. He’s only ever thought of her as his partner, but she shows up for him outside of work, too. And while he might have expected her to bristle at his moderately unprofessional behavior during the investigation, she’d only rolled her eyes and gently teased him, much like a friend would.

“So,” she says halfway through their second round of drinks. He can tell by the wry smile on her mouth that she’s wading into uncharted territory. “Would I be correct if I guessed that Phoebe ripped your heart to pieces and then told you to clean up the mess?”

Mulder cringes a little, but he’s smiling too. Not because it’s funny, but because she’s right.

“Something like that,” he says, then takes a sip of his drink. “Though I wish I could say it only happened once.”

“Ah,” Scully says knowingly, sitting back in her seat and resting the ankle of one leg on the knee of the other.

They both removed their suit jackets the moment they sat down, and Mulder has since loosened his tie and cuffed his shirtsleeves. Scully is wearing one of those ruffled blouses she seems to have in every color, the ones that have a rather deep V in the neck that’s made modest by all the excess material surrounding it. Sometimes he looks at her in her boxy suits and shoulder pads and thinks about what she looked like in nothing but her bra and panties under candlelight, but he’s careful never to let her see him looking at her that way. The fact that she’s beautiful is filed away in his mind behind more pertinent traits like intelligent, brave, determined, funny, and loyal.

“Pathetic, I know,” he says, looking down at his glass to hide the chagrin on his face. “And she just about looped me in for another round, if I’m being honest.”

“The sex was that good, huh?” she says, and he snaps his head up to be sure that it’s still his consummately professional partner sitting across the table from him.

She’s still there, the skin on her chest flushed pink with booze. She smirks behind her glass, perhaps a bit proud of her locker room talk.

“Depends on your definition of good, I guess,” he answers honestly. “It was pretty wild, and at the tender age of twenty-one, wild was as good as it got.”

Scully’s eyebrows raise curiously and he feels his groin grow just a bit heavy. He’s not sure how explicit of a discussion she’d be open to, but he’s interested in finding out.

“Are we talking ‘group sex’ wild, or ‘masochism’ wild?” she asks, just as casually as if she were asking him what classes he and Phoebe had together at Oxford. Mulder clears his throat.

“I think there was undeniably some masochism involved on my part, but more like high-risk or transgressive.”

“Transgressive,” Scully repeats with interest, her head tilting thoughtfully to the side. She doesn’t ask, but he tells her anyway.

“She, uh…she gave me a blow job on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s grave once, as an example,” he says, hiding his pride behind sheepishness.

A slow grin breaks out over Scully’s face, and Mulder feels a warm flush all over his body.

“Agent Mulder,” she admonishes him lightly, picking up her nearly empty glass and sucking the last bits of liquid off the bottom. “How disrespectful.”

“Yeah,” he says, looking between her smiling face and the table top. “I think that was kind of the point. It was hardly worth it, though. She broke up with me the next day with no explanation and she was sleeping with one of my friends by the end of the week.”

Scully’s smile fades and she holds her glass up, making eye contact with their waiter and gesturing that they’d like another round.

“Mulder, I’ve known plenty of women like her,” she says, her tone shifting as she uncrosses her legs and leans in. “She hates herself so much that the only thing that brings her any pleasure is to be pursued. She showers men with affection and attention, and then withdraws it as soon as she knows they’re hooked.” She pauses while the waiter drops off fresh drinks and takes away their empty glasses, as well as the remains of their lunch. “Men chasing after her, asking what they did wrong and how they can win her back, is the entire objective. Let me guess, if you ever call her out on it she acts offended that you’d define her character based on a couple little mistakes?”

Now Mulder sits back in his chair, disturbed by such an accurate description of his tumultuous relationship with Phoebe.

“Were you secretly attending Oxford in 1983, Scully?” he asks uncomfortably, then takes a gulp of his drink that burns all the way down his throat.

She smiles, pleased with herself.

“Phoebe isn’t nearly as unique as she’d like you to think, Mulder,” she says, resting her elbows on the table and then her chin on her joined hands.

“Well, she sure pulled one over on me,” he says, feeling embarrassed again. “More times than I care to admit.”

He drags his middle finger through the ring of water left by his glass, drawing slow, contemplative circles on the table top. Scully’s hand appears from his periphery and settles over his own, and she waits until he looks up at her.

“It’s not your fault, Mulder,” she says tenderly. “She saw a vulnerability in you and she took advantage of it. Having been on the receiving end of that myself, I can empathize with the fact that it’s difficult to see it for what it is when you’re in the middle of it.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” he says lightly, trying to reclaim the playful banter he’d been enjoying a few minutes ago.

Scully withdraws her hand and picks up her glass.

“I wish that I were,” she says wistfully. “Though I can’t say that my own youthful hijinks included oral sex on the gravesites of famed authors. I’m disturbed to learn the origin of your private joke, by the way.”

Mulder laughs, but he also entertains a mental image of Scully spread-eagle on the trampled grass in front of Doyle’s cement headstone, a dark-haired man’s head between her legs.

“Glad to hear you don’t think I’m a total schmuck,” he says.

“No, not a schmuck,” she assures him with a shake of her head. “I will admit to being a bit surprised by how submissive you were towards her, though.”

The comment was clearly offhand, based on her demeanor, but it hits him like an insult.

“Submissive?” he repeats, sitting up a little taller. “What makes you say that?”

She considers him for a moment before answering.

“You deferred to her in every respect,” she explains. “It was quite clear that she was in charge.”

“It was her case,” he shoots back. “Of course she was in charge.”

Scully holds up both her hands, palms facing him, in surrender.

“Forget I said anything,” she says. “We should probably get back to work soon.”

“I’m not submissive, Scully,” he says emphatically, ignoring her previous statement.

“I didn’t mean it pejoratively, Mulder; it’s not a bad thing to be. I was simply saying that I was surprised by it.”

“Well whatever you think you saw, you’re wrong,” he says sternly, trying to catch her eye.

Reluctantly, she makes eye contact and holds it for a beat.

“Whatever you say,” she says, acquiescent but characteristically skeptical.

Mulder clenches his jaw, holding back a tawdry remark. He waves their waiter over and asks for the check, as well as a cab, and then drains his glass. Fifteen minutes later they pile into the back seat of a taxi, buzzed to the point of uselessness as far as work is concerned.

“Where to?” the cabbie asks, meeting Mulder’s eye in the rear-view mirror.

“Alexandria,” he says, and Scully looks over at him.

“No, the J. Edgar Hoover building,” she corrects, and Mulder levels her with a steely stare.

“No, Alexandria,” he says again, and her eyebrows furrow.

“What are you doing?” she asks quietly.

“Where to, folks? Meter’s running,” the cabbie says, annoyed.

“Alexandria,” Mulder repeats, turning to look out the window as the cab pulls away from the curb.

He feels Scully’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t look at her right away. He makes her wait nearly two full blocks before he slowly turns his head and takes in the thoroughly confused expression on her face. Even then, he doesn’t proactively justify his actions like he typically would. He just looks at her, letting his eyes fall to the exposed skin on her chest and then dragging them slowly back up to her face. She opens her mouth and closes it, swallows, then finally turns to look out the window, and he finds himself fighting off a smile. He’s already rendered her speechless and he’s just barely getting started.

The cab deposits them in the parking lot of his apartment building, and after paying the driver he wordlessly heads inside, relying on his reflection in the glass doors to confirm that Scully is following behind him. In the elevator, he again feels her staring him down but does not reward her with eye contact. He behaves as though she isn’t there until the doors open on the fourth floor, at which point he gives her another once-over glance and then says, “After you,” in a tone that tells her it’s a directive, not an offer.

He follows her too-closely down the hall. Not so close that she could rightfully question it, but closer than is socially acceptable. When she arrives in front of apartment forty-two he reaches past her, key in hand, to unlock it, effectively trapping her between his body and the door. She stiffens but doesn’t speak, and when the door swings open he has to touch her back to encourage her inside. She stands in his foyer while he deposits his wallet, keys, and cellphone in their designated places, seemingly waiting to find out what will happen next.

He slips her suit jacket off her shoulders and she lifts her arms out of it, watching him curiously as he hangs it on the billiard ball coat rack near the door. He can feel that her tolerance to continue waiting for the punchline is waning, so he nods toward the dining room table behind her and says, “Have a seat.”

Scully turns to look at each of the three chairs set around the table. One is hosting a stack of books, one a pile of unfolded laundry, and the other a banker’s box full of junk he was planning to donate.

“Where?” she asks flatly, one eyebrow raised.

Mulder steps forward and grabs her by the waist, hoisting her up onto the tabletop. She makes a startled little gasping sound and wraps her hands around his forearms, regarding him with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asks, alarmed.

He pushes even closer, so close that he’s occupying the space between her open legs, his hands still on her waist, and leans down as though he’s going to kiss her. She stays stock still, her eyes open, and at the last second he shifts his head to the side and brushes his lips lightly across her ear.

“Who’s submissive now?” he whispers, and he feels her shiver at the tickle of his breath.

He leans away from her, grinning victoriously and expecting to see something along the lines of embarrassment or irritation on her face, but she looks awestruck. Her lips are slightly parted, her eyes unfocused, and she’s breathing heavily.

“Scully?” he asks hesitantly. Did he take it too far? Did he scare her?

Her hazy eyes take a meandering path up his chest to his face, then narrow a little. Her jaw sets, the corner of her mouth quirks, and she reaches up with one hand to grab hold of the loosened tie still hanging from his neck. He opens his mouth in preparation to apologize, but she tugs hard and his mouth crashes into hers. Suddenly he’s tasting whisky and lipstick, and the heels of her shoes are digging into his ass.

Something he should have guessed about Dana Scully is that she takes no prisoners. The one time he attempts to come up for air with the intention of making sure she’s thought this through, she silences him with her hot little hand down the front of his dockers, and he decides that they’ll just have to learn to lie in the bed they’re making. She pops half the buttons off his shirt when she artlessly tears it open, then rips his undershirt off over his head so violently she just about takes one of his ears with it. She gets him down to his boxers while she’s still perched on the edge of his dining room table, fully dressed, and he realizes that he’s completely ceded control to her.

Her hands are just slipping under the waist of his boxers, preparing to divest him of the last scrap of clothing on his body, when he grabs them and pins them to the table beside her hips on either side. She looks up at him, panting, and smiles.

“Point taken, agent,” he says, his face inches from hers.

“You do realize that brute force isn’t dominance, right?” she playfully chides him, looking at one of her restrained hands and then the other.

She’s so sassy, a trait she normally doles out in bite size pieces, and he’d be a damn liar if he tried to claim he didn’t like it.

“What was your plan here?” he asks, grateful that the bend in his waist necessary to hold her hands against the table is obscuring the fact that he’s half-hard.

“I might ask you the same question,” she retorts haughtily.

A beat passes, and she runs her tongue across her bottom lip nervously. It occurs to him that maybe this isn’t just a prank that’s gone too far.

“Are you drunk, Scully?”

She sighs, her head lolling to the side thoughtfully.

“Maybe a little bit,” she confesses. “Are you?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he agrees. “Am I taking advantage of you?”

She shakes her head slowly. “Not yet,” she says, and something in the tenor of her voice sends blood rushing to his lap.

“Would you like me to?” The words leave his mouth before he’s given them even a split second of consideration, and the resulting flash of adrenaline makes him dizzy.

“Maybe a little bit,” she answers, her chest heaving.

The second he lets go of her hands so he can simultaneously kiss her and get to work unbuttoning her blouse, she pushes his boxers off his hips, leaving him nude. She doesn’t touch him right away, though she makes no attempt to hide her appreciative leering, and the combined pride and desperation bolster his confidence to the point that they quiet the little voice in his head that’s telling him this is a bad idea.

In short order, he fills in the details of her body that were previously hidden beneath white cotton. Her breasts are small but perfectly proportioned, and when she lifts her hips and allows him to divest her of her slacks and panties, he finds a full patch of ginger curls between her legs.

For a moment they just look at each other, her hands on his waist and his resting on the tops of her thighs. When he looks at her face and she meets his eye, he at once realizes the gravity of what’s happening and also that it’s already too late to avoid whatever the consequences will be. Nonetheless, he’s afraid.

Scully smiles demurely and tosses her head to get her hair out of her face.

“You’re not getting submissive on me, are you?” she asks playfully, though he senses that she’s a little afraid too.

He allows himself to get lost in living up to her expectations, almost like he’s playing a role. He’s the man who carries her to his couch and tells her to watch while he tastes the slickness between her legs. He’s the man who holds her hands above her head while he makes her come with his fingers. He’s the man who hands her a—miraculously—unexpired condom and instructs her to put it on him, and then he is the man who bends her over the arm of his couch and tries not to seem too proud when she gasps at the size of him and comes again within a minute.

She moves to sit on the couch, her legs wobbling, and looks skeptically at the condom still snuggly covering his erection, which isn’t waning in the least.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you weren’t finished,” she says breathlessly as she pulls a blanket off the back of his couch to cover her nudity.

He’d hoped she wouldn’t notice. Diana never did. Or she didn’t care enough to say anything about it, anyway.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, tugging the condom off and retrieving his boxers from the floor near the table.

“Are you that drunk?” she asks, mildly alarmed.

“No,” he answers quickly. “It just…doesn’t always happen for me.”

“Hm,” she says thoughtfully, and he wishes she’d stop looking at him like that. Like she might actually listen if he told her about the other ways Phoebe took advantage of his vulnerability. About how difficult it is for him to let go in front of someone else now. About how lonely it makes him feel.

He sits beside her and they talk for a long time. About nothing. About everything. About what they just did and what it means for them. Eventually, he does tell her about Phoebe. She doesn’t make him feel weak or silly, or express surprise that a man could experience that kind of issue. She’s empathetic, and angry on his behalf, and she doesn’t take it personally or claim to know how to fix him like most women do. The booze wears away and a new kind of trust is forged, and he gets the feeling that she might turn out to be the best friend he’s ever had.

When she kisses his cheek and slips her hand under the waist of his boxers, he knows that it’s not out of pity. She doesn’t touch him like he’s broken or treat him like a project, and he doesn’t feel any pressure to perform. She coaxes him to the edge and he trusts that she’ll be there to catch him when he falls.

He lets go.

#x files fanfic #the x files #xf fic #xf fanfic

[yourlocalrodent]

Oh sweetcheeks!

Summary: Gareth takes you on a movie date but things spicy

TW: fluff to smut, p in v 😃 swearing, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids)masturbation (male received)teasing, fingering. Cock warming Basically if your under like idk 10 maybe don’t read this 😚

“Oh sweetcheeks!”gareth called out to the window from his little car “ hey bubs” you yell out, you run down to the door. “ did you tell your mum that you left?” He asked “ uhhhh no-.” You lied “ Name!” “ I’m kidding!” You heard a “better” under his breath. He started up the car and drove towards the movie theatre, “ what movie are we watching again?” You asked “ nightmare on elm street” you cranked your head over “ EXCUSE ME WHATT-” he laughed louder and louder. “ shut up”

at the movie theatre

You gulped in fear as the movie started, as soon as the first actual scary part happens you scream( but no louder then Gareth makes you scream 🤪) “ holy shiiiiiii” you sigh “ what’s wrong sugar?” Gareth asks “ I’m sorry- THE MOVIE?!” He chuckled at you “ cmere love” he pulled you into his lap. The cuddle was warm and nice, he had you in the drivers seat comfortable with his arms around you. He starts to pet your hair “ your so pretty” you blush “ thanks…” you show the gratitude towards the compliment.

After a hot second you start to feel something weird( a boner-) you turned around “ Gareth are you- are you hard?” You asked “ I- uhhh- RANDOM erection yeah yeah random” he stuttered “ gareth your horny!” You laughed “ no I’m not!” He tried to defend himself and being the annoying little shit( sorry-) you started touching his dick “ oi you little- little shit” he slapped your arm “ hey hey I’m sorry” and he mumbled somethings along The lines of “ I didn’t mind…” ( :0) “ what?” “ I don’t mind! Just-” he snatched your hands and put it back on his crotch an ‘o’ came from your mouth.

Little grumbles came from Gareth and you blushed “ h-hey not so brave now.” And he slithered his hand down to your cunt. At this point neither of you are paying attention to the movie anymore. Gareth pulled you to the backseat “ let’s take these off” referencing to your jeans.

You shimme off your jeans, now your just in your band shirt and underwear. “ yeah you look much better under me” he cooed, your a blushing mess now. He looked at you for a second before telling you “ yeah these need to go to sweetheart” pointing at your underwear (oop-) so you scrambled to get them off “ awe bubs your all wet” Gareth teased you “ oi! Shut up” you yelled while Gareth’s laughing. “ I’m sorry I’m sorry” he smiled resting his hand his hand on your bare thigh, you shivered at the cool touch of his rings.

You ended up getting carried into his lap “ I’ll be gentle at first okay” he informed you sticking his fingers in his mouth so it would be easier to put them in you, then he slowly moved his hand down and into you which in turn made you flop your head down onto his shoulder “holy shit” you whispered “ I know I know it feels good” Gareth cooed “mhm” you sighed. It was adorable to him to see you all comfortable in his lap. Gareth soon began to thrust fingers much faster leaving you a moaning mess. You clenched down on his fingers “ about to finish sweetie?” He asked and your response was a nod “hm okay I’ll speed up hey?” “ o-okay” you stuttered. After you reached your climax Gareth pulled his fingers out, he wiped his hands on a emergency paper towel.

You looked up at him with soft eyes “ can I touch you? I feel bad for not touching you too” Gareth’s grins “ sure baby cakes” so he unzipped the zipper of his pants and pulled his pants and boxers down slightly,letting out his dick. You reached over to touch it rubbing your thumb over the tip a content sigh came from Gareth, he lazily rolled his head over looking down at you who was Currently licking from the base to the top of his dick “ ooh~ shit that’s g-good” he whimpered.

you kept licking and rubbing him, his whimpers and moans where like music. “ oh- oh shit! Uhm- *name*? I’m uhh nhm gonna c-cum” Gareth heaved out just before he actually came into your mouth. it was salty and was hot “ sorry baby” he apologised, you swallowed and looked up at him “ it’s okay” you smiled “ h-holy shit you swallowed it”he whispered.

After a few seconds Gareth got his erection back, and you got over the orgasm 5 minutes prior to his. Gareth held your hand and looked at you comfortably “ do you think your actually ready?” He asks slowly helping you get comfortable down on the seat straight on your back “ yeah I’ll be fine gare” you grinned lifting your legs onto his hips and wrapping around them and that gave him the green light. He grabbed himself and lined himself up at your hole, giving himself a second before thrusting into you. Gareth let out a grunt squeezing his eyes shut, you could only come out with a whimper. You felt really full when he bottomed out inside, Gareth has both hands supporting him above you so he wouldn’t fall onto you. He places a hand on your lower tummy right where on the inside his cock would sit and adds pressure to the area. “ nhm, s-so full” you mumbled under your breath “ sorry b-bubs wha- what was that” he teased, he didn’t mean to stutter at all either “ a-ah! Sorry it just feels really good” he smiles at the sort of compliment, he thought for a moment if he should just thrust or cockwarm. Gareth chooses thrust, so he almost completely pulls out and snaps back into your hole, grunts moans and whispers are in the car.

Tears begin to swell up as his dock drags across your g-spot “h-holy, g-gare it’s so g-good” ahh his soft kink, praise. “ I know b-baby, it’s gr-great for me to-o”Gareth whines, he touches the same area “ right t-th-ere bubs” you inform to him, he nodded and attempted to hit that specific area but ofc would also slam onto your cervix every now and again. Your fingers scratch across his arms trying to grip onto something! You ended up leaving marks on his forearms.

Soon his thrusts became sloppy and it was more him rutting into you. “ shit I’m gonna fucking ugh” he grunts “ me t-too” he rutted into your hole a few more times before cumming. Leaving his seed in you he tries to pull out but you stopped him “ don’t pull out of m-e yet! I’m so f-full and warm. Please!” You begged, “he chuckled sure baby” he agrees. It’s nice and warm in you anyways and he doesn’t know why but it feels sad for him to one moment to be nice and warm, keeping your tummy full to cold and your empty.

Gareth kisses your neck from your collar bone up to your chin “ it’s nice isn’t it bunny?to be full” He asks “ yeah..” you actually confess to the pleasure. You sigh “ I love you” he smiles “ I love you too *name*”

you looked from behind the two front seats to see the movie was almost over. “Can we stay like this?” You turn your head back to Gareth, he lifted his head from your chest “I already said we can? Oh! You mean by the movie almost over. We can’t stay here while the movies over” you looked down realising he’ll have to pull out and you two were cuddling! How rude of the movie about to end🥺 he smiles “ hey hey we can do this when he get back to your place, All of this” he reassured you “okay Gareth”

so there you two sat watching the remaining 35 minutes of the movie

authors note

FUCKING FINALLY! honestly I was so in inspired for a second and then I found out YOUR SUPPOSED TO ADD GAPS BETWEEN PARAGRAPHS. I was literally just staring at it thinking about deleting it, but hey here it is. I’ll write part two tmrw

#gareth emerson x reader #gareth the great #gareth emerson x reader smut #gareth stranger things #gwydion lashlee walton #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things x reader #stranger things #corroded coffin #stranger things season four #Gareth Emerson smut #gareth Emerson x reader smut #stranger things smut #smut #gareth stranger things x reader smut #13+ #smutty #netflix #strangers things 4 #eddie munson

[undignifiedaquarium]

loving you out loud

for @locklyle-week day 1: firsts

a/n: First “I love you.” Here’s a little something I wrote because as much as I crave reading desparate confessions drawn out in the middle of dangerous situations, they also deserve something softer. Set in the future. I am v new to this fandom and writing these characters so please, be kind.

They’ve never been much for words. Or at least he hasn’t, not in the way that matters, Lockwood thinks as he peers over the top of his magazine at Lucy curled up on the other end of the couch. She’s got her nose buried in a book, completely oblivious to him. Her eyebrows are adorably scrunched together and her eyes feverishly tear across the pages in front of her.

It’s been years since she walked into his life and it still always feels like there are so many things he hasn’t told her, or doesn’t say enough. They are much more practiced at revealing things through unspoken communication. So much can be said through a glance across the kitchen table in the morning, smiles exchanged over tea, or touches and gifts and rescues that they have done a million times over by now. Sometimes it feels like they don’t ever need to articulate what’s left unsaid because they both know the score. But still, Lockwood thinks to himself, she deserves more than that.

It’s not like Lucy has ever been one to mince words. She’s called him out on his own bullshit time and time again, challenging him and reminding him that there are people who care about whether or not he makes it home alive. Her honesty was one of the first things that impressed him in that fated interview. She says what she thinks, and doesn’t back down. Truth be told it has saved them all in so many ways since then, even if it may drive him and George mad from time to time.

Looking at her now, Lockwood is once again captivated by her. In her pajamas, curled up with a quilt nestled around her and a steaming cup of tea in her hand she looks so comfortable, so relaxed. She looks radiant. It makes his heart pang with adoration. He wants to capture this moment and keep reliving it for the rest of time.

Because for every moment like this that they get, there are three more where his heart is hammering in his chest with worry or panic that something bad is going to happen to the beautiful, brave, incredible girl cozied up across from him. Too many of their firsts have happened in or been born from those moments when their lives are on the line and he aches a bit to give them both some softer memories.

Lucy chuckles lightly to herself at the other end of the couch, clearly having read something of note in that book of hers. She then takes a massive bite of the biscuit in her hand and finally looks up, meeting his eyes.

“What?” Lucy asks, “I got crumbs on my jumper or something?”

Lockwood laughs, “No, nothing like that. I just…I love you, that’s all.”

“Oh is that all?” She sits up and puts her book down next to her, a grin splitting across her face but also a hint of exasperation in her voice.

He feels himself blushing slightly, and looks down at his hands before glancing back up at her.

“Yes, well I know that sometimes I’m not the best at…articulating what I’m feeling. But I wanted to get it on the record and all that.”

“Lockwood I — “ she starts, scooting close and reaching out to take his hands in hers.

But he’s already on a roll. “I just realized I had never actually said it out loud and, well, we’ve put off a lot of other things until we’re in the thick of it and I wanted to make sure I told you now and not when we’re, you know, fighting for our lives. Point being, I don’t want that to be one more thing I’ve left unsaid.”

He’s really started rambling now, because her eyes have gone wide with something bordering on disbelief. Lucy is giving him a look that tells him she had absolutely no idea he’s been head over heels for her for…shit he doesn’t even know how long. Long enough that loving her feels as natural as breathing.

“Oh come off it Luce, you know I’ve been in love with you for a damn long time now.”

Her response comes out as a half laugh, half shout, and she smacks him with a throw pillow, “I did not, you idiot!”

Lockwood suddenly turns deadly serious, desperately needing her to understand how much he means this. How he is truly deeply, irrevocably in love. “Lucy, you make me feel seen and cared for in a way that for a long time, I didn’t think would ever be possible again. Even when everything is hard and frankly terrifying, I am still so glad you stormed into my life. I love you.”

At this, Lucy moves one hand to his face, rubbing her thumb softly along his cheekbone and looking at him with such longing and tenderness that he feels like he might just fall in love with her all over again. Lockwood slowly closes the distance between the two of them and kisses her like he’s drowning and she’s a breath of fresh air.

“I love you too, you know.” She breaks away and looks up at him with a soft and teasing smile, “to put it on the record and all that.”

#locklyle #locklyle week 2023 #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #can you tell that these two are consuming my every waking thought these days #honestly didn’t even think i was gonna write anything for this week and then #i was *inspired* #and also re-reading some fics i wrote for another fandom a long time ago #all to say…here we are TA DA #mwrites #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #locklyle fic

[aimlesswalker]

Being transgender/transsexual during the 2020s moodboard 💔

{Image Descriptions:

These are all screenshots of text (except for the ninth which includes a little cat).

The first reads “Even to those I don't know, I'm already deemed a villain.“ It is lyrics from the song Villain by Teniwoha featuring v flower.

The second is an image description of a comic. It reads “the first panel shows the silhouette of a person's torso with their hands in front of them joined at the fingertips. the person is coloured purple, with orange flames over their torso. this panel is captioned "they talk about trans people like we have some organised plan of action, and i wonder if they know"/the second panel is captioned "we're mostly just trying to live". it shows a person serving themself coffee.every other panel is captioned "trying to live" and shows different sceneries of everyday life“. The comic is posted with said image description here.

The third reads “I just want to be some guy”. The source is a post I made here.

The fourth reads “But more importantly, we just want to be able to live and not be afraid.” This is part of a thread of twitter posts that was posted to tumblr.

The fifth reads “Discouragement from public life is an effect of discrimination that is hidden because it is not open bigotry.” This is a screenshot from twitter that has been posted to tumblr.

The sixth reads “being trans should have been an anthropological curiosity, not a political movement, it should have been a quirk of humanity, not a fight for survival.” The source is a tumblr post here by user fipindustries.

The seventh reads “I want to be gentle, I want to die gently, but It seems that when life gets hard I have to get harder to match.” The source is from a tumblr post here by user nutnoce. 

The eighth reads “Running into a burning building to save a puppy is brave because you choose to do that,” Shelly adds. “I love being trans and I love trans people, but I don’t choose to battle any of the obstacles in my life, I just have to. And actually, I’d really rather fucking not.“ It’s from a satire article that was posted to tumblr.

The ninth reads “I am tired of being resilient. I am tired.” This is the image with a little doodle of an orange cat. The source is from a tumblr post here by user lousydrawingsforgoodpeople.

The tenth reads “I dream of never being called resilient again in my life. I’m exhausted by strength. I want support. I want softness. I want ease. I want to be amongst kin. Not patted on the back for how well I take a hit. Or for how many.” This is a screenshot from twitter that’s been posted to tumblr.}

#transgender #transsexual #web weaving #moodboard #trans #transmisandry #transmisogny #queer #screaming crying throwing up #political commentary #this is particularly about my experiences as a trans man but this is for all the genders

[blorb-el]

hullo! I read your chapter of your au with the Very Horrible Lex and the Very Baby Kon and the Very Sad Clark and i love it sosososo much! The GOOD ANGST my dood.

I want you to know i’ve been daydreaming abt it. Heck, i was daydreaming WHILE reading it- i mean that’s actually normal for me when i’m invested in smthn, but fr i kept getting distracted by So Many Thoughts and Feelings tm. Took me longer to read than it should’ve but rest assured that’s a positive thing!

i read the fic you based it on, and it was great! But so far im liking yours better >v>

I wanna see the rescue and the recovery! I wanna see it get worse first! I wanna see Clark attempt to raise Kon the best he can in the worst of circumstances! The love and human connection thriving even in the midst of a hurricane of cruelty— it’s so good bestie!

uhh anyway! The point of this ask: I wanna know, how did you come up with the title? “We shall be free; we shall find peace”? oVo?

Thank you!! That's basically how it came about, daydreaming about the fic that inspired it!

So I really love the fanfic tradition of using lowercase AestheticTM song lyrics as titles. Fic is already inherently intertextual, and I think it's fun to add another layer of intertextuality onto that; I named one of my other fics with a lyric mostly because 1. the lyric fits their relationship! and 2. the juxtaposition between Wholesome Radio Pop Lyric and soft d/s xeno tentacle pwp still makes me laugh.

At first the draft was just called 'horrible lex au,' and then I thought about using two other quotes before settling on the title. That's the tl;dr of it all, the rest of this is under a cut for plot spoilers for the overall arc of the entire fic, and also so, so much rambling:

The first title I was thinking about was be sure your heart is brave from Aeschylus' Agamemnon, but that quote is the chorus speaking to Cassandra right before she's about to be killed; her bravery is a heavy burden reaction to the monstrous injustices that have brought her to that point, like Clark and Kon... but then she's brutally murdered. Plus the power dynamic situation is... let's say, very different. It's an extraordinary, immortal line but the narrative arc I've got planned strays too far from the original arc, and in the end I decided I didn't want the shadow of a way better tragedy hanging over my little fanfic.

Chorus: Woman, be sure your heart is brave; you can take much. Cassandra: None but the unhappy ever hear such praise.

The next line I was thinking about went too far in the other direction, taste a morning out there, which is from one of the best 'I Want' songs, Out There from the Disney Hunchback of Notre Dame. Quasimodo's story of being thought monstrous and being imprisoned and gaslit by a socially powerful manipulator parallels Clark and Kon better than Cassandra's, but in the end the literal line itself doesn't fit right with either Clark or Kon. Clark, at the beginning of the fic, has atrophied to the point where he can only conceive wanting for such things through wanting them for Kon, and Kon, as we'll see soonish, isn't locked up underground the way Clark is. Plus, the fic is... lighter than the Orestia for sure but a hell of a lot grimmer than Disney, lol. I do have it on my writing playlist though.

So in the end I went back to one of my absolute favorite pieces of media ever, Fidelio. We shall be free; we shall find peace is a line from the Prisoner's Chorus in that opera. The solo prisoner that sings the line invites the rest of the prisoners to begin hoping, and from there, despite the sobering reminders of the dangers they face, that they're being watched, the music swells into a yearning for freedom so powerful it's difficult to understand how it passed the censors in 1805.

First solo: Hope whispers softly to me: We shall be free, we shall find peace. Chorus: Oh Heavens! Salvation! What happiness! Oh freedom, freedom, will you return? Second solo: Speak softly! Be on your guard! [The jailer's] eyes and ears are on us.

And then - the head jailer returns, and the prisoners are brought back to reality, forced back into their dark cells at the end of the act. The temporary respite is over.

Farewell, warm sunshine - how quickly you fly from us. Night is fallen upon us, from which no day shall break.

The simple act of hoping is like a breath of fresh air, temporarily alleviating their suffering, but it doesn't materially change their circumstances; it takes a number of outside forces to do that, which will be paralleled in the fic. Love and hope is all they have, and it's not enough, but it does make the torment bearable until Bruce/Leonora uncovers the extent of The Horrors and Diana/Don Fernando can deus ex machina everyone into the sunlight.

All in all, the line is a very succinct summary of the plot. Clark and Kon will be free, and they will find peace, but they have to find out what both of those mean, reclaiming their agency in the process.

oooor at least that's the plan. chapter 2 is about 90% edited and can probably be ready this weekend, I hit a little plot snag in chapter 3-5 so chunks of that are undergoing rewrites, but the good news there is that the rewrites are SO much better than the original draft and there will be some bats showing up earlier than there otherwise would have been. I did uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh kind of lose my job a few days after posting the first part, so updates will be slower than I'd like, especially since I'll have to move to a different state if I get the positions I'm currently applying to 😓

#thanks for the ask :^) #bahfev #fic: we shall be free #my writing

[thesmutalorian]

Yeah  they made the feral predator way too hot. The credits came on and I immediately went to Ao3 like “let’s see what the girlies have to say about thissssss” 🤭 I saw the original predator almost a decade ago and as much as I liked it, never would of guessed I’d be here now 🙂

 the ooman shit kills me, like why do they have these scary ass aliens saying such silly shit I’m gonna die. 

Turns ouuuuut, I actually have more to sayyyyy, but you don’t have to respond: I feel bad bc I don’t have an Ao3 account so I can never comment, but Gorl if I did, id have a whole essay for every chapter, including reaction images 😤. Ik you aren’t currently writing from Ta'Kesh’s POV (which is perfectly fine lol), but I really appreciated how you did so. The predator POV is so fun to read, they’re just so damn cold and pragmatic and just ALIEN yk? (Ta’kesh makes me laugh bc he’s such a lil psycho lol). At least when done right I think. The dynamic you have set up is really interesting, like I love a good slow burn enemies to friends to lovers, but the cultural differences and species hierarchy sets it up for some really fascinating (JUICY) interactions/character development. I was unfortunate enough to come upon your story very early, there aren’t many other fics that hold up to the standard you set! (Have you read The Devil You Know? One of the only other quality fics I’ve found that seems to accurately portray that sort of dynamic- 10/10 recommend). 

But anyway, the arrogance, the entitlement, just the cold bluntness makes predator fic so engaging to me. When you take a person with that deeply ingrained of a mindset (that’s another aspect I love, the question of whether or not yautjas are innately “predatory” or if it’s largely due to cultural upbringing) and force them to interact with with someone they deem inferior in a way they never have had to before (and there was only ONE BED heheh) I’m eating that shit up with 2 hands like GOOD SOUP!!😤😤😤

 I appreciate it even more with a quality OC and I like Charlie a lot. I really struggle with reader/you fics bc beyond me just being like “lol I would not do that”, I like having an established character to root for :). She has an interesting past that you’ve managed to portray in an appealing and unostentatious way. Reminds me of Rust cohle from True Detective.  I like that she’s very brave, but not to the point of ridiculousness lol. She has her moments where she’s able to act courageously in order to try to survive, but still gets intimidated/scared (extremely valid) sometimes with the big ass scary aliens. Do you have anyone in mind for how she looks?

Some highlights so far:

Greatly enjoyed ta’kesh’s cringe fail lake venture where Charlie showed his ass up while he fucking stands in the background looking like a drowned ass rat ahahah but watching her Commit Violence like 👀

Idk why but aliens using bidets is so fucking funny to me

Kinda living for ta’kesh being a dork and talking to his cat all the time hehe

let me see what the girlies have to sayyyyy 👏🏼 absolutely the correct response. my friend and I stand by that alien v predator could've been entirely more romantic if they were brave enough but 🤪 no cause literallyyyyy when I read ooman I hear it in a baby voice and I canNOT take it seriously, like bless those authors truly but whoever started the ooman precedent.... I just wanna talk 🧍🏻‍♀️ and girly pop ofc I'm gonna respond you took the time to let me know how you feel and I /love/ interaction okay (I think there's a way to comment anon on ao3 with like a guest account or name or something but maybe I'm wrong idk) but either way you take the time I want to show my appreciation

I stopped his POV just cause I felt like I was backtracking and I'm already so slow (rip sorry) but I really do want to come back to it in the future just to have fun revealing his inner workings (cause sometimes I be writing things and giggling like pookie is such a brat and then I remember y'all can't hear the goofy ass voices in my head and you only know the story I show you) but yes yes their differences are gonna play out in so many ways that I just can't wait for 😇 AND YES IVE READ FRIGGY one of the few I made it all the way through and then had to literally have a whole moment to process that there wasn't a second part 😗😗 sick I tell you, sick,, but I completely understand the not being able to read FPOV or self insert because of the "ummm I would never" --- because that's EXACTLY how I started writing 💀😭 I was chatting w my friend and we were like ok but isn't it kinda weird how fast some of these fmc just like... accept the whole ass murder crab men? also--- how do they survive well in space and from there Charlie was born ahahahHA I was like ok but what if I made it realistic for bits (as realistic as scifi can be) and then asked people to suspend their disbelief for the fun bits like the space pond and the tail n shit 🤭🤭

I have a whole board of art for ta'kesh but I've never really stopped to think about Charlie 🧐🧐

YES DROWNED RAT IS SOOOOO RIGHT mans really does have an ego, which, like rightfully earned? but also... must be checked whenever author feels he needs it (all the time 😇)

the bidet was me being like what is something that isn't necessarily commonplace, but feels bougie enough that an advanced society would have it regularly around.... ah yes.... Bidet.

ta'kesh is a cat girl, confirmed

I promise to bring you more good soup in the future 🍲

#ao3 #yautja #answered #close quarters #fanfic

[brighteststar707]

kissing in-between saying ''i love you'' with Saeyoung and a gender-neutral reader please!

Here we go! The last request of the kissing the RFA series! This was a really fun one to end with, so thank you, anon!

I vaguely reference an outgoing call on day 10 of Seven's route, but a lot of the dialogue is changed.

I hope you enjoy <3

Saeyoung - Kissing inbetween saying "I love you"

For most of his time in the apartment, Seven’s sure he’s sick. He’s dizzy and tired and everything hurts: his back (from sleeping on the floor), his chest (since seeing Saeran), his knees (from sitting on the floor), his head (since V’s last chat in the messenger), his shoulders (from being hunched on the floor).

He was supposed to be brave, but he has never felt weaker.

He spends the daytime working on tracking and security and most the nights staring at his screen until he can’t see straight as he tries to sort out the mess of things he’s feeling. He tries to make it all stop. The spinning in his head, the aching, the yearning.

Every so often, his eyes dart up to the sleeping figure on the bed, and something starts to burn in the back of his throat. Everything he wants to say but cannot bring himself to. Everything he has said but desperately didn’t want to.

Then, on the third day, it all comes to a head. Everything has been spinning for entirely too long, and he feels sick. They have finally had enough of sitting and waiting and taking to the air. They confront him, look at him with eyes so wide (they have never bothered to hide what they feel for him) and ask him to please let them in.

I know you’re hurting. Please let me help you.

And he is so tired. He wants nothing more than to fall into their arms and be held until everything feels like it won’t fall apart. The voice in his head that has been yelling for the past week screams for him to step away, but for once he doesn’t listen. He instead asks them to wait.

It’s more than he has given them yet.

They have been so brave. They have held up against the bomb and Saeran and him, and still they promise him that they’ll be with him as long as he needs.

He tries to be brave too. He recalls how it felt to have them holding on to him and how much he ached to hold them back. He reminds himself that being isolated for so long has only made him feel worse. When he looks up at them from where he’s sitting, he's surprised to find that he doesn’t feel so sick anymore.

He gets up and stretches out his back, his legs, his shoulders, and crosses the room to stand in front of them. He allows himself to meet their eyes, to allow them a peek into the chaos that’s going on inside his head. To his surprise, they don’t flinch. They smile.

They tell him hi in a small voice, and for once he doesn’t feel like he’s undeserving of their softness. He tries his best to smile back.

His heart races and he feels like he can barely breathe, but it doesn’t feel bad. He can’t remember much of what he said, only that once he started, he couldn’t stop. That he felt some of the aches release. They encouraged him, asked questions and reassured him.

Letting them in is terrifying, exhilarating. He feels more awake than ever as he returns to work with them by his side. Their promise rings through his head. I’ll come with you. I’ll follow you anywhere.

He sits close to them as they fall asleep that night. He won't sleep next to them just yet (he’s worried he might actually lose his mind), but he talks to them in a soft voice as they drift off to sleep.

They think he isn’t looking when they reach for their phone and dial his phone number. They smile like they’re getting away with a prank when he picks up the phone and sees their photo on the screen. He laughs, even as he answers the phone.

“You can’t sleep? You know it’s all fun and games sitting together like this, but you’re going to be tired tomorrow.”

“I’m worried about you.”

He has to joke so his voice doesn’t break. “What am I going to do with you? I’m quite strong, you know, I can defend us.” He says teasingly, and flexes one of his arms to show off his muscles. They bat at him, and he chuckles.

They have spent so much time being serious, being sad. He didn't realize how much he needed to feel light again.

“I can’t believe you can make me laugh in this situation. You’re incredible.”

They bury their face in pillows, but he can see the tips of their ears turning bright red. He smiles. This, he can work with.

“Hey, can I tell you something?"

They nod.

"For the first time, there’s something I desperately want.”

Their voice is small and muffled when they ask, “What is it?”

He’s surprised at how his voice doesn’t waver when he says, “You.”

They peep out from the pillows and their face is bright red.

“And… there’s something else I want to tell you, but do we have to use our phones? Let’s hang up so I can tell you in person.”

He hangs up and waits for them to put their phone away and turns to fully face him. He comes closer, sits on the bed (his face is burning), and takes their hands in theirs. His blood is pounding in his ears. The words are repeating in his head like a mantra, all he has to do is say them.  

“I love you,” he says.

Confessing as easy as breathing. Their eyes widen and their fingers tighten around his.

Having them this close to him is mystifying. He leans in closer, and he can hear their breath catch in their throat. His eyes drift to their lips and he swears his heart is going to beat out of his chest.

“I love you,” this time, it’s a little quieter. He bends down lower and closes the distance between them both. Their first kiss is impossibly soft, just a brush of his lips on theirs. When he pulls back, they prop themselves up on their elbows, not ready to have him leave again.

As if moving of its own will, his arm slips behind their back to support them. They wrap their arms around his neck, and their bodies are pressed flush together.  

This time, he’s smiling as he says, “I love you.”

Their second kiss is harder, hungry lips pressed together, his hands pressed to the small of their back and their hands in his hair.

He feels dizzy again, but it’s the kind that he wouldn’t trade for anything. Inbetween kisses, he whispers I love you over and over again like it’s the only thing he knows how to say.

#kissing the RFA #mystic messenger #mystic messenger saeyoung #mysme saeyoung #mystic messenger saeyoung choi #mysme saeyoung choi #mysme seven #mystic messenger seven #mysme 707 #mystic messenger 707 #saeyoung choi #luciel choi #mysme luciel #mystic messenger luciel #my writing

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for destroying reality for revenge?

I (god that exists outside the confines of time and space, NB) was created alongside my siblings, D (god, NB) and P (god, NB) by our ‘parent’, A (God, NB), who created the universe. However, a long time ago, I was banished from our original world by A, apparently for “being too violent”. With nowhere else to go, I created an alternate dimension where I could stay, as the ruler, sole inhabitant and prisoner of this world I grew to call home.

A long time passed. My anger at A for my banishment festered, especially since I was still able to see the state of the other world from my world. D and P had by now collected a significant base of worshippers each, who revered them as their main deities. While A’s existence had been forgotten by later generations, They had an entire civilisation who worshipped Them long ago. 

Me, on the other hand… I was erased from history. It was as if I never existed. Furious, I swore revenge on A for starting this by banishing me, and then standing by and never interfering as I, Their child, was forgotten by the world. 

Luckily, I soon had the chance to exact my vengeance. This human, whom I’ll call V (20sM) really wanted to meet A for some reason. Anyway, he found me somehow, and sharing the same goal of wanting to summon A, we decided to work together.

Now, what can definitely catch A’s attention enough for Them to appear? Causing some minor damage to the reality of Their universe, that could do the trick. No lasting damage, nothing that will threaten the very existence of the world, just mess things up enough for A to take notice. And fortunately, I’m pretty good at tearing holes in reality, so that’s what I did. 

Except, it had a few side effects? Including driving my siblings berserk, which in turn actually threatened the collapse of reality (they control time and space, so…). And displacing many of the other mortal inhabitants from their original time and space. Oops.

Not only that, but after all that chaos, A didn’t even bother showing up in person! They just zapped a few of their beloved creations, drove them berserk, and then plucked a human child (whose name I don’t actually know, but I’ll refer to them as AC for A’s Chosen) (15NB) from a completely different time and sent them to fight the berserk ones, all while pretending They sent them there to learn about the local fauna.

So, having caused this entire mess… AITA? On the one hand, I’m destroying reality and I know a lot of people are suffering, but on the other hand, I suffered for aeons too and honestly A is making the situation worse by inaction and making a literal child do all the work.

EDIT #1: Technically, A didn’t ask AC to fight the berserk ones. It was the village that AC was staying at that made them do it. But since AC is the only one brave enough to fight the berserk ones by virtue of coming from a different time where everyone knows how to fight them, they have to be the one to fight regardless of the village’s involvement. Obviously, if A didn’t send AC into this time, they wouldn’t have had to fight the berserk ones.

EDIT #2: AC finally managed to defeat all the creatures that A drove berserk…but reality has broken down so much in the meantime that the humans are finally noticing. They’re panicking. They’re desperate for someone to blame. 

They just banished AC from the village for my actions. I thought this moment of A’s precious chosen feeling what I did back then would finally give me satisfaction, but…I only feel guilt.

AC and I are the same, aren’t we? Banished and hated just for trying to survive. I feel much worse about my actions now.

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality