#maybe one day i'll write one of those ideas

[starpirateee]

Hi!! Could you write one of the Curtwen prompts I made, yet didn’t cut it? I love your writing style!!

Honestly there was a bit of deliberation here because you put some really good ideas out there on the form, but I did say I'd write em myself, and by all means, I'll still do it! So, I decided to go for this prompt:

Would you take a modern au from me? Can I do that?

I mean, I'm going to anyway, because I have a dire need to call Curt and Owen husbands (and also for wider Starkid lore), but i just thought I'd warn you beforehand!

"Agent Carvour, have you found anything yet?"

Owen leaned back away from his research. He'd been looking at the same page now for a while, trying to make some sense of it. Redacted government files were hard to get hold of, but even harder to make ends of. His system had been trying to translate it, but not even he had the software for that.

"Quite possibly, sir. I have a few sources, at least."

"What have you got?"

With an air of something that was almost excitement and almost elation, Owen pulled up a series of documents and started the walk through them. "Well, sir, the easiest source was from a few years ago. There's a company in Michigan that's been trying to conduct various temporal experiments under their parent company— some kind of analyst company, I think. They're surprisingly ordinary. Anyway, apparently the experiments just… Stopped. They never drew a conclusion on whether or not their research was connected to what was on the other side."

This had all started when Chimera had dug up a series of centuries old reports about people claiming to have looked into the eyes of old gods. None of the people had known each other, but all of the reports showed some form of consistency, and all told of great, unknowable power.

So, they had decided to look into it, to see if there had been anyone else who'd dared to brave the process of trying to find an answer. Owen was one of those lucky enough to find himself with the resources to start a thorough investigation.

"They didn't finish?"

"No, I don't know what happened, but the reports just stopped one day."

"Is there anything else?"

"An american government report, but it's as hard as you can imagine to decipher. Most of it is redacted…"

"Anything worth noting?"

Owen nodded, carefully turning back and switching the tabs. This felt a little like he was giving a presentation that he hadn't prepared for, and he hadn't felt like this in quite some time. He took a breath, trying to slow down the rampage that was going on in his head. "They started in the early noughts. 2005, to be precide. That's the earliest I'd gotten without looking at those old reports from the pioneers. A branch of the military tried to build a gateway to the other side, to investigate what existed outside of our plane. I don't know names, only one. The name of the man who performed the experiment."

"They got this gateway open?"

"Yes, sir. And they sent someone through. I think there's a good reason why his is the only name they disclosed."

"Why?"

"Because he was declared dead, sir."

His screen still displayed the document, and the man's name sat among the black markouts, clear enough to see. Cross, W.D. Apparently, he'd ventured into the portal, and nobody heard from him or saw him after the date of the experiment. They gave up the search after a month, and after that, Colonel Cross was indeed declared dead.

"So, another dead end?"

"Maybe not. I'll do what I can to uncover this with what I've got available, but it was scanned, so…. It might take some time." Owen was normally confident in his abilities, and uncovering government documents was a difficult yet necessary part of the job. There was something almost genuinely enthralling about scraping off the parts that the world's governments wanted to keep secret. It felt like giving people a small yet surprisingly effective slice of justice every time.

"Keep looking, Carvour. We need to know if this is viable, or even worth our time…"

If Owen had any kind of normal life— if he and his husband didn't both do the dirty work for secret operation services— he would have a blast trying to decide how to describe the intricacies of what he'd been researching lately. The throws of domestic life confounded him to no end, which was why it was so funny when he and Curt tried to imitate that.

The otherwise simple question of "how was your day" turned into a battle of who could craft the most believable lie that better concealed what they'd actually done. Neither wanted to jeopardise their jobs, and Curt had always been brilliant at crafting stories, so it was never dull.

He started to think about what today's excuse would be. Something about pioneers, or the Oregon trail, or perhaps he could bring up that old, dead colonel somehow, that would be interesting to add to the pile.

--

"You know what I'm gonna ask already…"

By the time he got home, Curt was already waiting for him, and the mid-spring sun was starting to set. For anyone else, it was a day at the office, but the trails he had begun to uncover had really put all other days at the office to shame.

He laughed softly, having prepared this answer a number of hours before, and took up a position on the couch. "No, love, you first. I insist."

"Fine, okay," Curt answered with a chuckle. "It was nothing really, just your standard… But, the bear returned, and in about a month, I'm gonna get really rich and run off to central Europe, with a really pretty lady and a dollar store box of magic tricks."

"The same bear from last month?"

"Yeah. Bastard won't leave me alone."

"Sounds wild. Are you coming back after your plans to run off with this really pretty lady?"

"Plan is to cut myself off after three weeks, but at this rate, I might not make it two."

"Not good enough?"

"Owen, I'm a bit too gay for that." To sell his point, he flashed his wedding band, and Owen laughed harder. "Besides," he added, covering his own bout of laughter. "Who needs a fake wife when I've got my own right here?"

Owen shot him a faux-offended glance. "How dare you!"

"You might fool the guys at work, O, but you couldn't pretend you don't think about it…"

Or that he hadn't been experimenting in that part of himself in little segments since he was seventeen. Turns out he suited long hair better, and he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he both looked and felt rather good with the occasional flourish.

"You know me well..."

"I should hope so! Anyway, what're you keeping from me? How was your day?"

"Office, just like you. I've had a conversation with a pioneer, and tried to erase marker pen over the body of a dead soldier. Oh, and I tried to teach myself statistical analysis."

"Jeez, that was— that was a whole rollercoaster there, huh?"

"Mhm, I've been busy."

"You can say that again, god… So, a pioneer? Like those guys that travelled to Oregon?"

"Yeah. Quite interesting people, if a little paranoid." Something other than their oxen might be watching them would've been a perfect addition to the statement, but Owen felt that was a little too close to the line to pass, so he decided not to add it.

The important part was, apart from the knowledge that Curt was on an assignment in a month's time, both of them were none the wiser. Curt didn't need to know that he had started the deep dive into a pack of eldritch gods and was even slightly nervous about the outcome.

He didn't sleep well that night. He knew that he had right to believe that this was all one great hoax, that there was something in the water that made the pioneers mass hallucinate this supposed watcher. They all travelled on the same trail, it was entirely plausible that all of them found the same hallucinogenic and envisioned a thousand eyes watching them and their familes. It was less of a coincidence when two subsidaries of larger companies started describing details of experiments that led them to discovering other beings beyond just the watcher, of course, but he still wasn't sure whether he was privy to believing any of it.

There was something about redacted government files, though, that were meant to be believed. There was a reason they hid information from the public, and that was often because they had found something worth disclosing in the first place. That meant huge news, large press cover ups… The whole works… And that was the last thing any self-respecting government with something to hide would want. Owen imagined the size of the initial press conferences for dealings like Roswell, how many people must've shown up to that conference, under the impression that they were going to get answers, only for the press to redact the next day and claim that it was no more than a weather balloon.

He felt like he was dealing with a weather balloon of his own right now. This was something that this branch of the military clearly didn't want people knowing. The only reason they'd had to disclose any information at all was because one of their own had died looking for this information, and they had to provide the closure for whatever family he had left. Part of him wondered what they'd said, how they'd tried to cover up this man's imminent demise at the hands of another dimension. What did his family know? Was he ever given a sendoff?

When Owen tried to sleep that night, plagued with the thoughts of how much his research was worth, and what really happened on the other side, he couldn't get his head in the right place to take a suitable rest for long enough. Flashes of colour— brighter than anything he'd ever seen— danced behind his eyelids, chasing each other in sequence. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Pink. Green. White. Blue…. He didn't have much of the capacity to think, not when those colours started consuming his subconscious thought, but he spared a moment to the hope that he may get answers of his own if he stuck around long enough.

"He thinks he's brave… He thinks we don't know about him…"

Whatever dream he had been having was taken over by blurred edges and violent pangs of pain that he was sure he could feel outside of this existence. Everything faded out, leving only ruin in it's wake. Broken pieces, scrambled signals… Owen didn't even try and make sense of it, he already understood the futility of trying. There was nothing left in his mind but those colours and those voices— for he was sure there was more than one. A sickening chorus, holding perfect time with each other.

"He's foolish, if he thinks he can go further without us finding out."

"Owennnn…"

"We know what you're doing, Owen…. It's not going to last."

He'd thought about meeting his maker before. He'd thought about the possibility of death, the idea that he may not live to see another day eventually. It was hard to deliberate something so serious in his early thirties, but his line of work called for it. He knew that he had a dangerous job, and that there were few who would be able to save him if something happened.

But, he'd never considered the possibility of his own demise to this extent before. In the formless remains of his dream, where he was forced into hearing these voices talk about his death and how soon it would be to coming, he had pause for deliberation. And it wasn't good.

He had to strain to take control of his own voice, in this space that was once his own. Once so sacred, now scarce and left entirely to the whim of whatever was taking residence in his mind. This was a bad idea. All of this research was a bad idea, and he was suddenly more aware of that than he was anything else. Never before had he had such a violent urge to overturn everything he'd worked on for the sake of something this seemingly trivial.

"There's nothing you can do. It's already started. This is bigger than me…"

"We know that. You're not the only one we have heard trying to work your way into what is ours… Choose your next step carefully, Owen. I'm sure we would delight in taking you in the same direction as the others…"

Before he could really ask what that meant, he was left entirely alone. The ruin of his dream still stood strong, which was strange enough given that the voices had left him alone, but he had the strangest feeling that there was more to this landscape than just what he was being shown. He started to wander, to look around in an attempt to find the real end to all of this. His mind was a wasteland, taken over by the lack of colour and the apparently deafening absence of those voices that had only appeared a moment before. He felt empty without them, although he knew nothing more than the sequence of colours that paraded through his vision.

Blue… Purple…. Yellow…

The pattern was familiar, like he'd seen it before somewhere. And while he wasn't resting easy, he couldn't force himself to wake up, either. No matter how hard he tried, he was just left stuck, wandering the expanse until he found what he was apparently looking for.

Pink…. Green…. White… Blue…

The expanses of his mind stretched out into a road, occupied by nothing but empty space. He supposed that was mostly his own fault; he had known for years that his imagination was never one to be put on par with anything else. He couldn't so vividly picture that which others could, and he'd never really had much of a capacity to dream, either.

So, this warning was strange. Seeing such vivid, bright colours in the back of his mind, knowing that he couldn't have conjured them himself…

He started to walk the road, curious enough to want to know where it went.

"Owen?"

That voice wasn't like the ones who had left moments before. That voice had a personality, and a person to go with. It was warm, though scared. Human all the same. And Owen knew the shape of it.

"Owen?"

Owen let his instinct lead him down the road, through it's many curves and winds. Eventually, the road gave way to what could only possibly be a stage. There was a set of stairs to one side, that he let himself climb before he could think to wonder where they led, and then the familiar voice gave way to a man in the wings, staring at him with desperate, fear-lined eyes. Of course he knew the voice, and of course he had never tried to doubt himself on the matter.

He tried to advance towards Curt, but he took a hasty step back, shaking his head.

"Curt?"

"Prove you're Owen."

"I'm sorry?"

Curt hesitated, and then slowly emerged from the wings. Even though he stood on the light of the stage, it still looked like he was carefully enveloped in shadow, like the darkness was a comfort to him. Owen looked around, wondering what had made him so cautious, and whether it was still around. Had Curt seen what he'd seen? What had those things whispered to him?

"I'm not falling for it again. Tell me you're actually Owen…"

Owen frowned, not wanting to dwell too much on why Curt was so afraid to reach out to him and realise that all of this was as real as they could get it. "Curt, love, I don't know what you want me to say…" There was a certain desperation about him too. Improvisation had never been his strong suit, but he wass confident that, given the right prompt, he would be able to convince his husband that he was who he said he was, to quell any discrepancy that it may have been otherwise.

"Don't. Show me… What happened on your 25th birthday."

The pieces fit into place, and Owen nodded dutifully. He had been out in the field that day, a strikingly hot day in the middle of June. The two of them had barely ended up with three hours together by the end of it, and they'd gone out drinking to celebrate what little time was left of his birthday. He'd never been particularly big on celebrating, but Curt had insisted. They were newly married then, and getting used to the idea of sharing a life with someone else. That was one of the first nights following their wedding when Owen truly came to realise that he'd made entirely the right decision, and that there was nobody he'd rather share his life with than Curt Mega.

"My 25th… That was a home ground mission. I was in the state."

"What happened to you?"

Owen smiled, somewhere between fondness and a need to hide the melancholic air that hung about that question. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and huffed a weary breath of laughter. "I was trying to make my exit, but the suit jacket caught on a fence. Here…" With his sleeve rolled to just the right length, Owen held out his arm and pointed out a pale flash just below his elbow— a jagged scratch that had never quite healed right. "That's what happened after the fabric tore. Is that enough?"

Curt had known about the scar. He'd also known about the story. He was pretty sure that nobody else knew, though, so in his head, that had always been his fallback option in the event that he was ever sure Owen needed to prove himself. Those stories lined up perfectly, and while Owen had missed out on some of the details, in the grander scheme of things, he'd gotten it exactly right. He shifted, letting a knowing smile cross his face through the fear that still gripped him.

"It's really you…"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

Curt's approach was still careful, premeditated. Even though he knew the truth now, there was still something about him that screamed a lack of trust directly into his ear, and it made actually reaching out for Owen so much harder. "You… You were trying to kill me."

"What now?"

"I know what I saw…"

"I don't doubt you, but I would never… I swear it on my life."

"I know, that's why it was strange… I— What the hell's happening?" This stage was the only thing connecting the two of them to reality. There was nothing beyond it but the end of the road that Owen had travelled down, and nothing behind it but black, empty space.

Owen let his instinct take over. If the two of them were going to face the unknown, whatever and wherever this was, then they were going to do it together. They always had, and they always would. That was the way things worked, especially for the two of them, because their lives were built so heavily on the idea of distrust that any semblance of the opposite they could get, they would cling to. Normally that was exclusively each other, and so the world wasn't usually much larger than the two of them.

Their hands connected in the middle of the emptiness. Owen pulled Curt Closer to him, and the two of them stood side, performers to an unknown audience, marionettes for something larger than themselves. They exchanged a glance, and Owen registered the warm, homely spark residing in Curt's eyes.

"I think we're trapped in a nightmare, crazy as it sounds," he tried to respond, but he wasn't entirely sure where this was going to go. "I can't wake up, but I remember falling asleep last night."

"Me too. I fell asleep before you did, you were still reading."

"Right, and now there's this. Whatever this is. did you, by chance, see those colours too?"

Curt nodded. "They came before you did, before the- other you. Blue, and purple, and yellow…"

"…Pink, and green, and white..?"

"And then blue again."

Owen heaved a sigh. "Curt, there's something I have to confess. It's safe to do so now, there's little that could get in the way of what I have to admit, but this is one of those things I wouldn't be able to tell you awake, you understand?"

There was a moment's pause, in which Curt tried to work around Owen's phrasing. Both of them felt the incredibly revealing sense that they were being watched, so Curt understood that Owen had gone into the professional mindset— switching off his senses for the sake of making as much sense of something as possible. It was always how he rationalised his way through situations, and it hadn't failed him yet.

Eventually, Curt nodded again, as the words started to sink in and he started to get a sense of what was being said. "This about what you told me this evening?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid there's a little more to it than what I told you, but I suppose that was rather obvious."

A nervous breath of laughter left Curt, only partially voluntary. "I thought there'd be a bit more to it than erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier…. What the hell kinda explanation was that, anyway?"

"One I spent a good hour crafting, thank you very much. I thought it was clever."

"Better than a pretty lady and a box of tricks?"

"And a bear, yes."

"… And the bear. Right. Well, what's that mean? erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier, what're you saying there?"

"I've…" This is not going to get you done for. Those documents were already top secret before you saw them. And if it gets you out of this nightmare prison, then surely it has to be worth it. "I've been uncovering sealed military case files that might explain what's happening to us right now."

Curt's eyes went wide. "Fucking what?!"

"It's all part of the job. I can't… I can't elaborate. Know only what everyone else knows: that the only reason any part of this is disclosed at all is because someone died during one of the experiments."

"What's that got to do with what's happening here?"

"That's what they were researching."

That seemed to click to some degree. At least, Curt seemed to understand a few of the larger pieces, perhaps the more obvious ones. "The colours?" In his head, there was an experiment, someone tried to make sense of whatever that was in their shared mindscape. Someone— a soldier, presumably, had died in the middle of these experiments, and now Owen had gotten tangled in this mess through his agency, and the two of them had been dropped into the same nightmare.

Owen nodded. "The colours."

At the moment he said that, a loud rumble disrupted their moment and forced their attention out into the expanse of nothing. Laughter— multiple sources with varying shrieks and gasps that couldn't be placed to a single source— burst from behind the wings, and from in front of them, and from the endless expanse of black that surrounded them. A loud crack followed, and Curt swore as the stage splintered beneath his feet. For a split second, his grip loosensed, and the next time the ground rumbled, they were torn apart by the growing crack in the stage. He staggered back, and the two of them ended on opposite sides of the stage, the crack between them growing and delving deeper into the unknown.

"Owen!" He called, trying to regain his footing but falling back.

"Curt! Hold on!" Owen yelled through the growing laughter, scrambling back to reach out for the pulley system backstage. He needed a foothold on something, a way to sturdy himself so he could regroup and think. It was too loud, he couldn't think in this kind of heat, with this kind of mess, and Curt, and-

Another crack. The stage was starting to fall away from itself, split not quite perfectly in two. Owen's breath ran short. In the swirls of colour and mayhem and possibilities, he saw a way out. One chance to get this right, and to make sure that they both survived the fall while they were still stuck here. He gripped the rope tight, levering himself further towards the crack, and looked to Curt. "You're gonna have to jump it!" He called, desperation winning over any attempts to stay sane. "Don't worry! You know I'll never let you down!"

"Are you crazy?!" Curt managed, staring into the gap. "I can't jump that, it's too far!"

"Curt, before the whole place splits in half, you have to get over here!"

"What if I don't make it?"

"Trust me! Please!"

Curt backed off a few paces. Owen stood ready, one hand gripping the rope wrapped around his wrist, and the other reaching out as far as he could, waiting for a move to be made. After a singular preparatory breath, he sprinted for the gap, and pushed off from the splintered wood at the edge.

He reached out.

Owen reached out.

Their fingertips connected briefly in the space, and then Curt slipped away beneath his grasp.

Owen threw himself forward, feeling the rope worming itself free and burning his wrist in the process. He'd promised. He wasn't going to let Curt fall. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.

Curt's eyes squeezed shut, preparing for an endless fall through the ineviatble. Something laced around his wrist and he felt himself stop moving. Exerting all the caution he knew to exert, he looked up, and caught a familiar whiskey brown staring back at him.

"I've got you!" Owen breathed, and Curt fought to angle himself so that he could get a better chance to grab the broken stage floor. When Owen started hauling backwards, Curt managed to get a hold of the edge of the stage, and made it a joint effort to haul him to his feet. "You're alright… You're okay…"

Curt essentially fell into Owen's arms. Owen held on tight, like he could lose his partner at any second to the swirls and the crevice. He stared out into the emptiness, ignoring the very real pain that he could feel at his wrist but cherishing the very reel feeling of Curt's shirt underneath his hands. The very air seemed to shift. Owen wasn't previously aware that colours could get angry, but this green that flooded the space behind his eyes was pissed. He could feel it.

So was he. Pissed, and way more desperate than a man ought to be.

"Alright," he muttered once, and Curt drew back ever so slightly. He noticed Owen was staring off into the greater expanse, and hoped for all it was worth that he couldn't see something out there.

"Alright!" His voice got louder, and he tried to mask his utter despair in an authorative tone. "I get it. You hear me? I get it!"

Everything fell eerily silent. The only sound that remained was the pounding of Owen's heart in his ears. He took a breath, strangely certain of himself. Glanced at Curt. Spared his attention on the void again.

"That soldier… Wilbur Cross? That was your fault, wasn't it? There's a good reason nobody can get very far into digs like these, and it's because you strive to kill them before they do. Nobody ought to know what's on the other side, and that's why nobody does…"

"Owen, what're you doing?" Curt whispered, but to no response and little avail. Owen was lost in whatever he was about to say.

"… But, I've heard talk of bargains being made here, so how about it?"

"Your desperation speaks for itself."

Owen had to pretend that that— the voice from the middle of nowhere or what it had said to him— didn't bother him in the slightest. He steeled himself, not sure where to direct his attention but knowing he'd probably have it right no matter what he chose. "What do you say, am I allowed to make a deal?"

The air shifted. Owen didn't receive a direct answer, but he knew that he'd been allowed to continue. "If I don't continue— if I go back, and tell my people that it's an impossibility, that it can't be done— would you let him go?" Another quick glance at Curt, as if the green something needed clarification, or as if he knew what he was signing himself up for.

Curt was frozen in place, his eyes wide. He'd heard every word as it echoed in the void, and he hated what it was implying. His gaze was fixed on Owen, fear blazing through his face. "No, Owen—" his voice came out weak. As far as literal interpretations go, that was not a good one. He didn't understand what was happening, but it terrified him to know that Owen was being so calm about this, while he could be selling his life away with nothing more than a few choice words.

Owen frowned, and muttered an apology he was sure only Curt would catch. The green grew angrier, setting a violent fire behind his eyes and forcing him onto his knees as the pain flooded his body.

"You better not be fucking with me."

"No! I— I wouldn't! I'm serious! I'll call it off, I swear on my life, just… He has nothing to do with any of this. It's not his fault."

The thing considered, holding Owen firmly in place while he deliberated. Curt couldn't move— he didn't dare, lest something happen to Owen that put him in more danger than he was already in. All he could do was force himself into keeping his breath steady, and not thinking about what a single wrong move could do to either of them. His eyes landed on the friction burn winding neatly around Owen's wrist, and he decided to focus on that for a while; the only other colour in a void of blackness and green.

"Very well."

That was the last thing Owen heard. Some part of his mind just shut down, and he collapsed to the floor of the stage. He didn't hear the way Curt screamed his name, or the return of the chorus of laughter. His eyes closed, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with a start, underneath the sheets of his own bed, gasping for breath. He sturdied himself out, and once he was sure that he was real, and definitely in a familiar space, he looked over to Curt, and found him still asleep.

"Curt?" His voice was soft, but his mind was a knife point of tension. If that had gone wrong, then why was he the one to live through it ant not Curt? He tried again, biting his lip. "Curt..?"

Curt groaned. His eyes opened slowly. The relief that Owen felt hit him like a tidal wave.

For some reason, Curt was entirely surprised to see that Owen had made it through to the other side. He managed a weary smile, and tried to get his vision into focus. That was one of those decisions that he immediately came to regret. As soon as he brought himself a little more into the real worls, he noticed that the brown in Owen's eyes was stained with something else, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Dripping down his irises was a flash of toxic, unsettlingly bright green.

#spies are forever #saf #starkid #agent curt mega #owen carvour #star mail #void offering #nova's tags → #wiggly would have an absolute field day with owen and curt huh #bc desires run deep. they want each other. they want to be free... #but curt wants to not be haunted by the ghosts of his past #and owen wants to move on. to get a better future where he doesn't have to devote his life to an agency #might be fun to play around with

[livingbrother]

LO and it's portrayal of S/A

A rant by someone who just finished EP. 98 and is incredibly furious

Cw: Mentions of S/A, it's effects, too much swearing, ED mention, personal stuff that happened to yours truly, lots of other stuff too, just no idea what to tag it as

Don't read this if you're not mentally doing well, I don't want you getting hurt because of my post, I love you, feel better soon

Boy. Oh fucking boy. I just got through episode 98 of this shit show and, I'll just say, I am beyond furious. Livid, in fact.

For context, I am a survivor or sexual abuse and mental abuse, I have dealt with those who act sort of like Apollo, I was never raped, but I was molested as a child. I, as a survivor, feel nothing but rage at how Rachel portrayed Apollo being a rapist. The way he acts is incredibly unrealistic for an abuser, as somebody who dealt with two abusers with Narcissistic Personality Disorder (I'm not saying everyone who has NPD are villains, I'm just saying what I went through), I see what Rachel was trying, but oh so tragically failed, to do. He tried to control, manipulate, and gaslight Persephone. Only for none of it to work, that's not how ANY of it fucking works!

Where is the fucking control, other than just fucking raping her? I get he wants to take the power away from her and be the one to control her, but I've seen none of that! I get she has PTSD over it (I'LL GET TO THIS POINT AGAIN). I NEVER GOT THE SENSE THAT SHE WAS POWERLESS EXCEPT FOR THAT ONE SCENE. I HAVE NEVER SEEN HER QUESTION IF THAT WAS HIS INFLUENCE PICKING HER DRESSES, OR FUCKING EVEN HER FOOD! WHEN I WAS LIVING WITH ONE OF MY ABUSERS, SHE'D PICK OUT MY OUTFITS, ONE'S I HATED, AND I STILL CHOOSE SOME OF THOSE OUTFITS, TO THIS DAY! WHERE WAS HER LOSS OF CONTROL? SHE NEVER FELT ISOLATED, SHE NEVER FELT LIKE SHE WAS TRAPPED. YES. SHE WAS TRAPPED IN THAT ONE ROOM WITH HIM, BUT EVEN THEN! SHE HAD LEVERAGE OVER HIM WITH THE FUCKING LYRE. Ugh.

About her realizing she was raped, um. Excuse me? A lot of victims don't realize they were raped or abused until like, months or years later. I'm glad for the ones who instantly realized it, good for them. Given Persephone's personality and experience with the world, she wouldn't have known it was rape because she's not accustomed to dating and sexual culture. On top of that, she isn't really seen actually distressed when she remembers, oh, and lets not forget that she WAS FUCKING FINE WITH TOUCH AND PHYSICAL FLIRTING DAYS AFTER HER ASSAULT. Let me remind you that I have been through this thing myself, you do not just omg I was just assaulted! time to go let someone touch me! Nonono, you spend years jumping when people touch you, years of moving when someone tries to grab your shoulder, years of pushing someone's hand off your arm, years screaming when you get a hug. And then, maybe from flashbacks, maybe from googling things, you discover you were molested! And then it alllllll makes sense. I understand if she became hypersexual, cause same, but that usually doesn't set in until a good long while.

I also hate how Apollo is written, he should have stayed as a shitty ex boyfriend or whatever the fuck Rachel was gonna make him, he just comes across as a cartoonish villain than an abuser. The man just fucking rubs his hands together and fucking goes I'll get you next time my pretty! I fucking HATE his writing so goddamn much. I understand wanting to make him pushy, egotistical, and insecure, they're some of the hallmarks of the pushy nice guy she was going for. But when it comes to him being abusive, it's like watching a bad joke. Rapists don't usually, you know, CATCH FEELINGS FOR THEIR VICTIM (correct me if I'm wrong), unless it's to lure them back in to hurt them again. She made him so obviously evil it hurts, abusers don't usually act that way, they put on a pretty smile, act kind, and behind closed doors, act shitty. I respect 97-98 for getting that part right, but too many times, too many fucking times Rachel has gotten that wrong. I have dealt with this myself, my mother did this exact thing, she even put on the pretty smile for me so even I, somebody who knew he was being tormented, questioned whether or not I was being abused! We never see this with Persephone! We never see her getting gaslit with this, she never questions her reality! She knows everything that's going on for sure! I know what Rachel was aiming for, and she failed miserably!

God, on top of this, we never really get to see Persephone's PTSD unless the story fuckin says Apollo's here! She's never really fucking affected by her rape, we don't see her jump from touches, refuse sexual advanced from Hades, yeah, sure, we see her afraid of camera flashes, but that's about it!!!!!!!! She never really experiences the effects of s/a! I developed an ED and agoraphobia from my abuse! Where the fuck is that?! That would have been a lot more fucking interesting than the slop we fucking got!

I know I've missed some things, but I need to calm down before I pop a blood vessel. I might revisit this post when I'm less angry, I just needed to rant.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #rant post #rant #cw s/a #cw: ed #huge ass content warning

[merakiui]

azul has that single dad on vacation vibe nailed to a T in that new card and i’m going insane. i will be his wifey so he never again has to be a single dad on vacation

He's literally this:

But it's okay because he makes it look so good. orz I will also be his wifey so that when he has his next vacation trip he won't be alone. <3 anything to make dilf Azul happy hehe!!! >:3c

#twisted chit chat #there's the most terrible itch to write summer smut fics for the cast of the event... #those summer outfits have me in a chokehold #i want to write a silly fic where ace and floyd have a competition to see who can rizz up the most people on their tropical vacation #but floyd takes it too far and it goes from a rizz competition to seeing how many people you can kiss/fuck in a day #and poor riddle doesn't want to lose because the loser has to drink whatever alcoholic beverage of the winner's choice #and everyone assumes riddle will lose so they're all planning to make him drink this huge margarita #that will definitely give him a horrible hangover so he tries to rizz you because you seem nice enough to reject him #but maybe you like his sincere awkwardness hehe #it's a very silly plotless idea but the cast swearing on 'whatever happens on this tropical vacation stays at the tropical vacation' #is a fun mindset that they all agree upon #maybe it's a fic where they celebrate after they've graduated so it's one final trip of silly antics before they all have to focus on life #omg maybe they're drinking and daring each other to do silly things and everyone (except for jack) is dogpiling on riddle with absurd dares #like 'i bet you can't get that person's number' or 'i bet you can't get them to fuck you' T_T leave riddle alone everyone!!!!! #i have too many ideas in my mind orz #i'll stop rambling before these tags become far too long ;;;;;

[per-the-jellicle-magician]

In his den Mefistofeliks has a little stash of things that remind him of his human and of cats he's close with. It started when he was still a kitten because of his human and there's only a few cats who know this stash of mementos even exists.

The inspiration for it was his human, Erik, who made a little baby album of a sort after he adopted Feliks, and over the years has been adding pictures and other things such as his paw prints etc. So wanting to do the same Feliks stole a few of the printed pictures and scraps of paper with Erik's handwriting (the closest thing he could find as his human's paw print) and stashed them in his den at the studio. Over the years said stash grew, he kept stealing a picture or a note here and there, and few pieces of Erik's clothing including one of his favourite pairs of socks. He also got there his latest collar that he wore only once to please Erik. He doesn't like wearing it, but he still very much likes to have it (he knows Erik saved the very first collar he got for Feliks, tiny kitten one that also was worn only once).

Besides his human's things he has lots of mementos of other cats. Most weren't exactly gifts but more of a "oh you can keep it if you want" type of thing, but Ram Ram Tamek and Kasandra, who both knew about it for years have both gifted him things and would sometimes tell other cats that hey this specific thing you dont want to anymore, Mefistofeliks may want it. Eventually two more cats would learn about it, both by accident, said cats being Bombalurina and Munkustrap.

From Tam he's got a little round mirror, a scrap of an old blanket they often used to share as kittens and a photo of the two of them Tam stole from Erik (Tam may tease him a bit for being sentimental, but he still helps with getting the things, and he saved the other piece of that blanket and another copy of that photo too).

From Kasandra he's got two of her bracelets, a broken silver one he saved from when they first got together, and she didn't know about the stash yet (he gifted her a different one then), and a golden bangle with little stones she gave him when they finally and for good sorted their relationship out and went from partners to being just friends.

From his daughter, Wiktoria, he's got a piece of cardboard with her paw prints on it and red and black marble from a little stash of them she found in some forgotten corner of the studio (she saved herself a matching white one).

From his parents, he's got one of Bywalec' ascots and an old broken pair of glasses, and from Plameczka a couple of her hair rollers, plus a few feathers from her feather duster (it took a time to get those things to save, he doesn't see his parents as often anymore)

From Misto a long piece of the glittery rainbow he used in his tricks, from when it accidentally ripped one day and a few playing cards from his favourite, although very much no longer complete deck (Feliks wasn't the only one to receive cards from his cousin, few went to Tugger and Victoria as well).

From Victoria a gem that fell off her collar and a pink ribbon bow she made once for him so the 3 of them could match as family (Misto saved the one she made for him too).

From Bomba he's got her hair clip sometime after they become friends. It was an old one, with a broken clip part (she let him have it after he helped her find a replacement).

From Demeter he's got a silver and gold handkerchief which was bit of an "I'm sorry" note after she accidentally messed up his arm (he wore it over the bandages when it was still healing)

From Munkustrap he's got feathers, saved from every catch Munk would share with him all the times Feliks would visit his cousins at the Junkyard. Munk saw the arrangement Feliks made of the feathers several times when visiting before he realised they were from birds caught by him. It took for a very specific feather to appear there for him to catch on (Munk has saved all the flowers Feliks has ever conjured up for him too, took him one catnip fuelled visit to his den to learn that). Later, one of scarves Munk had in his den, a brilliant blue one, made it's way over to Feliks' (Feliks may or may not have said it reminded him of Munk the most of all things Munk's got and that he liked how soft it was)

#I've been having thoughts so it's a long one #this idea was living rent free in my head #maybe one day i'll write out what he got from other cats #if and when i get any ideas of what those things may be #cats the musical #cats warsaw #cats headcanons #mefistofeliks #mistoffelees #ram tam tamek #rum tum tugger #Munkustrap #kasandra #cassandra cats #only tagging the more important ones form all the mentioned #my headcanons #jellicle cats #my main cats au

[taniushka12]

there needs to be more Barry fics fr fr fr, I know the last time he appeared in game was 12 years ago but cmon, he is So important

#don't wanna start writing yet another thing until I'm done with my two current wips and I'm So close to finishing them... #tani's personal shit #I have a barry fic idea that's essentially like those 3 times smth +1? w/ the anderson brothers & alice & sam lake (the actor) #saying they've seen alan in dreams or smth. sam talks abt nightless night n alice mentions the hauntings #and barrys like. Well why haven't I dream w/ My best friend? if he's alive why hasn't he reached and if he's dead why hasn't he haunt me #(The +1 part is him actually dreaming/meeting.. scratch...) (team barry Will kiss all of al's evil doubles before reuniting w/ alan himself #gosh anyway... one day I'll write this... maybe not the coming days bc I feel myself getting sick w/ the coming autumn. but one day... #goodnight u_u

[tvrningout]

if i'm honest, i'm having a bout of " am i being annoying? " so i might just see myself out till tomorrow. i hate to do that bc i really wanna get my drafts queued, but i also don't think it's good for me to force myself to do something if i'm feeling off. maybe i'll surprise myself and come back and write? but i'm not gonna stress about it too much -- or at least try not to :' )

please take care of yourselves and remember it's alright to take a break when you need one <3 in general ofc, but especially on this silly lil website bc this is a hobby -- not a job!!

#gotta remind myself constantly that most people are very kind and patient and so i should be that way to myself too #and truly no one's done anything!! to make me feel annoying!! it's just me questioning myself bc i tend to impulsively post memes #and get fixated on certain topics/ideas/etc. #and then i do take ages to write #so i worry and tonight's one of those days where i feel self conscious that maybe i'm doing too much #i do feel silly that i'm feeling down but i also just kinda don't wanna be here bc i've made myself uncomfortable #so maybe it's best that i head out and relax and focus on other things for a little bit #this is a rambling mess of tags asdfg but please have a good night for me friends <3 i'll be back tomorrow goofing off as usual <3 #get ready to ramble | ooc #tw negative

[karizipan]

old asoryuu assortments

#I'm so sorry to eeaao for applying that line into my cringe #DO NOT PAY ATTENTION TO THE WRITING ON THE COMIC BTW #I do not convey the beats or line seperation properly mostly bc I was practicing... and I just improvised what to write OWHEIRJR #SO DO NOT LOOK!!! #oh fun little minigame idea guess which one of these were made before dgs slash tgaa 2 OWUWKRJTLGI #wanna talk abt the comic actually... I have a layer that's hidden that was umm supposed to be an intricate picture frame yeah #I had the idea of ryunosukes panel being in a more simple frame whereas kazumas was like those fancy painting frames #but I did not follow through on that!!!! #I have so many different tgaa introspectives in my notes and a lot of them I made w a comic format in mind... maybe one day I'll make them #rizdoodads #dgs #dgs spoilers #ALSO SHOUT OUT TO UTENA FOR THE SWORD POSE... #aceashbogado

[beesinspades]

the most tragic thing about writing is the moment you realize that you're likely never gonna finish those wips you were so passionate about because your hyperfixation has faded too much and you just can't focus on them anymore

#bee talks #[gazes longingly at my 8k of beauty and the beast hualian au] #[and my fantastic mer hualian au fic plan] #[and my heartbreaking hualian reincarnation/memory loss au] #[and my completed qianquan fic but which needs serious edits] #(maybe this one I'll try to fix it since it's 90% done....but not super likely) #odds that i'll write/finish all those are.......extremely slim #and it makes me sad because GOD I LOVE THOSE IDEAS i get excited about them when I reread what I have and my plans #but i just don't have the drive to write them anymore #i still hope to write a small hualian fic for ace danmei day....but we'll see #sad :( #brain empty only trigun #but who knows if tgcf s2 ever airs maybe the drive will return!

[isekyaaa]

me: knows nothing about a particular subject nor has much interest in learning

me: ah yes what a perfect subject to write a story on :)

#story ideas #self #me @ tattoo parlor au kazuha x reader fic i've been playing with #for no other reason than i think he'd just match the aesthetic #he just has the vibes of a tattoo artist and would look good with one too okay???? #i have no plot either #just vibes #fits in with the mafia/yakuza Inazuma au i wanted to do too #it was just gonna be like one of those one paragraph for person things #like my drunk anemo boys post #one day i'll do it... someday... #or maybe someone will still this idea so i won't have to write it...??? #👀👀👀👀 #god pls someone steal so i won't have to do it i have too many projects already :') #vent

[made-nondescript]

crazy idea....what if emerald duo ask blog reboot but text based this time

#i love c!techno so much you guys have no idea but i am SO bad at drawing him its just too hard for me #so... 👀 #might be an 'audience of one: me' situation bc i don't know if people like text based ask blogs? #i'm also considering doing maybe a life series or hc ask blog? i dont know hmm #i just write more consistently than i draw which is SO funny. I am not a writer at ALL. i draw every day man but boy #when i have to answer something i psych myself out w drawing it. sorry person who sent the REALLY nice tubbassador au ask i live in shame #will happen eventually lol #anyway yeah thats the thought this morning #cant watch dl until this afternoon so I'll just be rotating this around #maybe a dsmp x hc blog. hrmmm #OH ALSO i actually wrote something drabbl-y again sorry for thr lack of those i have been all over the place but im really excited abt it #i love scar ❤️ do i write him right? i dont know and dont care. im making the blorbos interact #ANYWAY #hope dl ends good

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

Part 2 soon…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first, was the worst...

You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.

But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.

And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.

Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.

Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.

You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.

Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.

Just to show him you could.

'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.

You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'

It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.

It was the last time you'd feel your wings.

The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.

You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.

All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.

Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.

You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.

The gates opened with a sickening clash.

One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'

You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.

'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'

Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.

Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'

'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'

You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.

That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'

'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'

You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.

The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'

That's when they started hacking at your wings.

Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.

Not your whole life.

Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.

Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.

'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'

They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.

Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.

The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.

At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.

'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'

Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.

'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'

Azriel.

You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.

You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.

'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'

You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.

You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.

'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.

You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.

'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.

Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.

No, this would destroy you.

'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'

Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'

Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'

You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.

And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.

Mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.

Your wings.

Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.

Gone, all gone.

Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.

'You're awake, thank the couldron.'

It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.

How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.

But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.

'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.

He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'

In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.

'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.

'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.

'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.

'Get out,' you mumbled.

The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'

'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.

Be better than your mate being disgusted.

'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.

'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.

'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'

Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.

Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.

You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.

'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.

'Give her time,' said Rhys.

The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.

'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.

Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.

And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.

There was a knock, rattling the door.

'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'

Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.

He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.

'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.

Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.

Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.

You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.

It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.

Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.

Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.

Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.

It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.

You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.

Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.

And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.

You cry. You sob. You scream.

The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.

A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.

You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.

Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.

Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.

He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.

When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.

It was always you.

Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.

His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.

Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.

He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.

He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.

You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.

Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.

'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.

'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.

'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.

Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’

'I'm not on the ledge.'

'You're too close for my liking.'

'Leave if you don't like it.'

'Don't do this,' he said.

'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.

'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.

‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’

He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.

'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'

Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.

His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.

You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Fifty-two years later...

When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.

You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.

It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.

Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.

Still, you had not told him he was your mate.

Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.

Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.

But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.

Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.

Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.

'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.

Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.

'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'

The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.

'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.

But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.

If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.

Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.

Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'

He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.

He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.

You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.

When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.

Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.

Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.

'Cassian.'

His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'

He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'

Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.

Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.

'Ow!'

'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.

You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...

Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.

And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.

He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.

His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.

You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.

Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.

Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.

Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.

'Azriel?' you called.

There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.

You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'

He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'

You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.

His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'

You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'

You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?

'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'

'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'

His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'

You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'

He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'

Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.

Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'

'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.

Azriel smiled and stayed the night.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The third time he almost lost you, broke him...

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

#acotar #azriel #cassian #rhysand #rhys acotar #feyre archeron #tamlin #lucien vanserra #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #cassian x reader #books and reading #booktok #angst #azriel x cassian x reader

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: some awkward moments but nothing crazy.

part 1 - Part two!!! - part 3 - part 4

—————-

You indeed did not see John price the next morning but what you did see was a handwritten note stuck to the fridge beneath a magnet.

“Good morning, as I mentioned my job is demanding. I’m not sure how long I'll be gone for but I can estimate at least a month. If you need me, my phone number is below along with my check for this month's rent and the next. - John price”

You reach for the envelope that is attached behind the note and pull it open and what the fuck. You knew he had to have money but in what world would someone pay this much rent for a house with a roommate? You immediately grab your own checkbook and write him for the amount that’s overpaid, making a mental note to make sure you give it to him.

————

Weeks pass slowly and life goes on as it did before. The only difference is you're no longer struggling to make ends meet. So to celebrate your success you order that 6 foot canvas you’d been wanting for ages and a new oil paint.

When you got the notification that it had arrived, thank god for two day shipping, you squealed and ran to grab it before the mailman even walked away. He offered to help you as he watched you give it a bear hug and waddle it through your door yelling out a meek ‘no Thankyou’. You dragged it down the hallway and into the sunroom resting it up against the wall. Ripping the clear plastic film off of new canvases comes in third place to the best things in life.

Sitting in the sun that evening you stroke deep blue oil paints that try their best to replicate ocean waters, and white specks that wish they could induce the same feelings stars do.

You’ve been at this same painting for 3 weeks, coming home and straight to it. Now that it’s finally done it sits sunbathing till it dries. You still visit it and admire its larger than life beauty.

John’s been gone for 1 month and 3 weeks now and in that time some problems have arisen, 1. The faucet in the kitchen leaks and below it the pipe also leaks and the only plumber that’s willing to drive out to your house and inspect it says he won’t be available for another week which means the water bill will sky rocketing till then. And 2. you have no idea where the huge painting will go.

You walk around wondering where to place it. You thought maybe the living room, or even in your room but after testing both those places it still didn’t look right. You can only think of one other place which is the hallway to John’s room. Of course that spot is perfect, maybe he wouldn’t notice since he only spent one night here. You grabbed the drill and got to work mounting it immediately. Once all was said and done you gave it a once over, smiled, snapped a picture of it to send to your sister and walked away.

———

John arrived back exactly at the two month mark early in the AM. He opened the house door as quietly as possible and removed his boots by the door to avoid the creaking wood of the floor and continued sluggishly hauling his bag to his room. Being the man he is, he notices everything, those watchful eyes of his never miss a detail so he does indeed notice and take a second to admire the newly found painting hung in front of his bedroom door before unlocking it to set his stuff down.

After a much needed and appreciated shower he reads the clock at 7AM thinking he can sleep for a little, that is of course until he hears a knock at the door. Making his way down the hall he peeps through the window and sees a handyman?

“Good morning sir, how can I help you?” He says opening the door.

“Good morning, your wife called for a leaking pipe, told her I’d come by sometime today.” He looks down the hall towards your room and confirms the fact that you're definitely still very well asleep.

“My wife? Oh yes my wife, that lady I could’ve sworn I told her to cancel this appointment we actually got it all sorted out.” He lies like it's second nature.

“I actually charge a late cancellation fee that must be paid upfront.” He inquires slightly annoyed.

“How much?” John replies feeling sorry for this man that drove out here and is now being sent away.

“100$ flat.” John shuts the door and quickly fetches his wallet from the pocket of his cargo pants and returns with two bills one for the inconvenience and sends the man on his way.

Sleep can wait.

—————

You wake up to the sound of clanking in the kitchen and as a woman that technically lives alone in the middle of the forest you're terrified.

Grabbing the bat beside your bed still fully dressed in the least threatening attire, you tiptoe to the source of the noise and breathe out the strongest sigh of relief ever known to man.

“Jesus Christ John you scared me, what’re you doing?” You loudly admit startling him in return.

“Fixing this pipe that you called an overpriced handyman for.” You stare at him subconsciously admiring the way he looks, slightly disheveled, face screwed in concentration and strong hands twisting the wrench in his hand and let’s not mention the rise of his shirt.

“You okay?” He says removing himself from under the sink leaning back on his knees to stare up at you.

“Yeah, yes I’m so sorry, um so where did the handy man go?” He stands with a grunt and leans his back against the counter.

“On his merry way.” He replies, turning around to turn the faucet on checking if it leaks, then off to see if it still drips and as he expects, it does neither.

“How much do I owe you for the late cancellation fee?” That man has handled your plumbing issues before and you’ve definitely canceled late more than once.

“Technically you didn’t cancel on him, I did so don’t worry.” He says picking his tools up off the ground placing them messily into the tool box.

“Well Thank You.” You say awkwardly.

“Of course.” He smiles making the dimples beneath his beard awfully noticeable.

“Oh and by the way your rent is only two thousand five hundred a month.” You say walking to the kitchen drawer beside him and pulling out a check that’s already filled out and handing it to him.

“Utilities included?” He asks, grabbing the check written out for three thousand and also taking in notice that same scent that clung to those sheets you made his bed with weeks ago as you sweep by.

“Yeah I don’t mind paying more cause I mean look around, this place has my style written all over it which makes it feel more like mine than yours.” He looks baffled at your reasoning.

“I actually like the decorations, not sure I’d change a thing about it.” You laugh at what has to be a lie.

“I doubt it.” You chuckle and slightly blush at his kindness.

“No I'm serious, I especially love that painting in the hallway, where’d you get it?” You seem surprised at the mention of it and even more flattered at the compliment.

“I actually painted it.” He gives you a surprised look.

“See you’re even hand painting the art, please I can afford much more than twenty five hundred.” You act like you're considering it for a moment.

“As much as I’d appreciate it, I'm already grateful for what you pay.” You say truthfully.

“Also, welcome home.” You quip before turning around walking back towards your room to get ready for the day

—————

John’s been home for nearly two weeks now and he’s slightly growing on you and you on him. You co-exist in harmony most times. That doesn’t mean the two of you still don’t clash from time to time.

“Good morning.” He says scrambling eggs in a pan as you walk into the kitchen reaching in the cabinet for a coffee mug.

“Morning to you too.” You say groggily, setting your feet flat on the ground and placing the cup on the counter, reaching for the pot to pour some coffee.

“If I can just- oh I’m so sorry.” He says accidentally bumping into you making the coffee spill on the counter.

“Oh no don’t worry about it, I can just clean it.” You say turning around quickly to go grab paper towels and end up accidentally running into his chest.

He grabs your shoulders to hold you in place and let your brain catch up with the speed of events.

“We will learn to both be in the kitchen together someday.” You affirm with a laugh that makes you feel alive.

“Hey the first week this happened almost everyday. If anything this is a huge improvement.” He jokingly abides.

“True.” You say as he turns around handing you the kitchen towel to clean it up. He watches you with amused eyes and a smile that still hasn’t left either of your faces and for a second something alights in John something that scares him so bad he doesn’t hear a thing you’re saying.

“John, I said did you sleep well?” You speak a bit louder, snapping him out of it.

“Yeah darling sorry I’m just going to take this to my office. I've got some work to cover.” He says hurriedly plating his food and scurrying off.

“Okay well I’ll be heading to work soon.” He doesn’t even let you finish before closing the door leaving you to stand there a little stumped.

“So I’ll assume he didn’t sleep well.” You say to yourself before pouring another cup and heading to your room to get changed.

——————

Comments and reposts are appreciated <3

@beebeechaos

@ttsbaby01

@arminarlertssword

@quakeroaksguy

@waves-against-a-cliff

@depressed-but-make-it-cute

#captain price x female reader #john price #angst #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod x reader

[reiderwriter]

hii I absolutely love your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a one shot with gun kink? maybe not really something *aggressive* but just gun kink in the plot !! and please smut with no angst, also maybe aftercare in the end? it's totally okay if you're not comfortable. im loving your kinktober one shots! have a good day :)

A/N: This being one of like... three gun kink requests I've received, we are all not seeing the pearly gates lmao. If you enjoy reading this, even 50% of how much I enjoyed writing it, then I'm happy 😚

Warnings: Undercover FBI Agent reader, gun kink, interrogation room sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some BDSM themes, Spencer has to 'rough up' the reader etc.

Masterlist

Being rough-housed by a group of FBI agents and pushed against a wall before being handcuffed was never your idea of a fun Tuesday night. It wasn't exactly high on the list for any night of the week, really, but here you were. 

“Caitlyn Grant? You're under arrest for being an accessory to a felony and evading law enforcement, whatever you say…” You drowned out the rest of the statement. It was nothing you didn't have memorized. 

“You're not the usual drug crew, and you don't look sturdy enough to be on most of the other teams either. What part of the Bureau are you in?” You asked the lanky man currently pinning you to the wall as he made sure your handcuffs were aptly tight. 

“You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one-” 

“I waive my rights. It's not human trafficking. You wouldn't be working this case if you were human trafficking.” 

The man just stared at you in vague disapproval as you grinned back at him. His closeness meant you could see every detail of his face up close, the five o'clock shadow, the dark circles from lack of sleep. On most of the agents you'd encountered, it had the effect of making them look older, a little haggard, and depressed. On this man, it was honestly very hot. 

He started your pat down by spreading your legs, though honestly, if he'd asked nicely enough, you'd have done just that for him. You near enough told him just that as he reached the two pockets on the ass of your jeans. 

“Watch it, Agent, my bite is worse than my bark.” 

“Turn around.” 

You pouted at his solid resolve, wondering what it would take to get the man to crack a smile or even a frown. Something that wasn't just disinterest slapped on a face and called a day. 

You did as he asked, making sure your body pressed nicely up against his the entire way until your shoulders were resting on the wall and he was feeling along your waist. 

“Come on, what kind of weapon are you going to find there?”

“Standard protocol, please let me do my job.”

“Standard protocol is calling one of your female agents over here to maintain the boundary, Agent. This feels more like you're just trying to cop a feel.” 

Those words finally got a reaction. The subtle clench of the jaw as his hands tightened slightly on your waist had you suddenly regretting your decision to be put in handcuffs. Your hands should've been free to tuck the stray lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, free so your fingernails could trace a path down his face and neck and chest. 

His gaze landed on the simple silver chain you wore around your list and he delicately pulled it out of your shirt, careful not to touch you (and avoiding you even as you arched your back into him). 

With a quick tug, he pulled the necklace clean off your neck, not pausing to bother with the clasp at all. 

“Clever boy. I'll see you in the interrogation room, shall I?” He said nothing as the female agents you'd mentioned earlier stationed themselves on either side of you as you walked away. You didn't break eye contact until the doors to the police van closed behind you. 

Six months undercover on a case, and this was the first time you'd stepped foot in a police precinct since you'd ditched your real name and life. 

The interrogation rooms hadn't changed in that time, at least, still grey and depressing. Time felt void as you waited for company, and thankfully, you weren't waiting long.

“Agent Y/N, sorry about the arrest, we wanted to make it look as real as possible while pulling you out.” The woman who greeted you obviously held the authority, and while you wanted to respect that, the sight of the man trailing behind her actually caught her full attention. 

“Pleasure to meet you….?” You let the question hang open for both of them but kept your gaze fully focused on the man, who stood himself next to the door, keeping surprisingly quiet. 

“I'm Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we're from the-” 

“Behavioural Analysis Unit, of course. I was close, you know, earlier. A face like yours wouldn't last five minutes in cartel land. I almost guessed cyber, but you looked a bit too bookish. Doctor Reid, hmm.” 

“This interview is taking place with Agent Prentiss. Please direct all your questions to her.”

“Oh shit, sorry, where are my manners. I didn't mean to disrespect you like that, Agent Prentiss. It's just been a long few months.”

The other woman just chuckled and shook her head, leafing through some documents to pass you over the information on the case they needed assistance on. 

“We think there's a serial killer in the drug ring you infiltrated,” the woman explained, passing over the files with the case details. You took a moment's breath before opening to the crime scene photos, steeling yourself for what you might encounter. 

“There are probably a lot of serials in the organization. It's a drug ring. What makes this one worse?” You said, just as you flipped the file open and answered your own question. 

“Shit- Okay, that's what makes this one worse. He can't be more than 15, right?” 

The answering grimace on the two agents' faces suggested you'd been generous in your estimate. “Okay, how can I help?” 

xxxxx 

A few hours passed in the interrogation room, and you'd walked them through all of your up to date information on your case and cover. The chair wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were glad to be finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The interview was ending, and you could see an end to your undercover work swiftly following too with the BAU's assistance. 

You weren't looking forward to having to acclimatize back into the real world. You'd gone from pushing papers at a desk 9 hours a day to rubbing shoulders with drug dealers and junkies, a lot of whom were kids, young people like you who had no other options than the streets and crime. 

You made a mental note to give a few warnings to the younger kids on the streets to stay alert and then started getting back into character. 

“Thanks again for your help, Agent. We appreciate your time.” Prentiss nodded at you as she gathered the folders, getting ready to leave. 

Spencer Reid stood, too, stretching himself out as he rose from the chair, giving you quite the show as your eyes dragged from his face, down his chest and down further still as you appreciated the view. 

The last few hours had been strictly professional, and you'd enjoyed bouncing ideas off of him, running through theories. Now, trying to get back into your ‘lusty barmaid’ persona, you thought instead about how much you'd like to bounce on him yourself, possibly while running your hands through his hair. 

A girl could dream. 

“Hold on a second, I'm still in cover, I can't go back out there looking this pristine, it's too suspicious,” you said, the two agents turning back to you curiously. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Someone needs to throw me around a little. Rough housing, you know, a few bruises will do it.” 

Prentiss looked at you, caught halfway between impressed and amused. The good Doctor however seemed to darken slightly, covering his shock with a tensed jaw. 

“She's all yours, Spencer,” Wmily winked at the man, turning the door handle and beginning her exit.

“What? Why?” 

“I don't hit women.” 

“And I do? Emily, wha-” 

But the door to the interrogation room has already closed with a small cackle, and you're already being drawn closer to the man like a moth to a flame. 

Turning to face you, you see the shock of the situation on his face before he looks away in a flash, refusing to meet your eyes as he keeps himself close to the door. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm not actually a criminal, you know?” 

“I thought you wanted one of us to treat you like a criminal now.” 

“You make a good point, shall we begin?” 

He signed and rubbed his temples as you advanced, letting you get a little bit closer before holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, wait, tell me first, what should we be doing?” 

You took a deep breath and expelled it, then took the time to think about it. 

You would need some visible marks of the FBI's unkindness - wrists red, a bruise or two on your knees, maybe, from falling. The problem was, you couldn't think about how to get the marks without driving yourself insane. 

There was a quick and easy way to get tender knees, an even easier way to mark up your neck and chest, but you couldn't figure out how to ask Spencer Reid to do those things without spreading your legs and letting him do whatever he wanted. You weren't sure you wouldn't do that eventually, anyway.

“Let's start with my wrists. You were too generous with the handcuffs earlier - just grab them really tight, pin me against the wall if it helps.”

He nodded and took a hesitant step towards you, thinking for a second, before grabbing one wrist and spinning you around. Before you could even process the action, he had you pinned, chest against the wall, arms above your head. 

“Is that okay?” He asked, his grip tight  but not bruising yet. 

“A little tighter, I want the marks to last a while. Why is my face against the wall?” 

He gripped tighter, the pain sending a jolt through your wrists that trailed all the way down to pool between your thighs. 

“I thought you'd be less uncomfortable like this.” 

“With your dick pushed up against my ass? Yes, Doctor, great decision.” 

He let out a cold, quick laugh, leaving you flushed as he pushed your upper body into the wall, too, finally getting to the grip strength he needed to get attention. 

“I'm sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but that's my gun,” the words whispered in your ear were the last straw as you shuddered in his grasp, his hands releasing your wrists as he stepped back a little. 

You shook out your hands a little, trying to momentarily relive the stiffness in your joints. 

He took a few paces to the desk and upholstered his weapon, placing it on the desk before joining you again. 

“So you don't get confused again,” he explained at seeing your raised eyebrow. 

“Oh so next time, it will be your dick?” You whispered, moving back to the desk and sitting yourself on the edge or it, picking up the gun and studying it for a few minutes. 

“Y/N, put it down.” 

“Ooh, possessive, are we?” You giggled, aiming it at him for a second before grabbing it by the barrel and holding it back out for him to grab. 

“Hold it, point it at me or whatever. Maybe it'll help you rough me up.” 

His brow furrowed, but he grabbed it anyway, not immediately slipping it into the holster as he stepped forward. 

“What now?” He asked, and you shrugged. 

“Whatever feels natural. And looks visible, I guess.”

It took him a few minutes to decide, surveying your body like it was a puzzle. Professionally, of course. You were about to speak up and urge him to get on with it when his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat. 

You tried to gasp, but the grip was firm, and boy, was it driving you crazy. Your legs had naturally parted as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, and he walked into that space now, his free hand still holding the gun. 

Your body pushed forward into his, suddenly awash with arousal as your chest heaved with tiny breaths, lungs burning. 

“Are you enjoying this, Y/N? Or is it Caitlyn Grant that's enjoying this?” 

You felt the gun touch your thigh gently, and you moaned, just as he softened his grip on your throat. 

“Answer me, please. This is an interrogation room, after all.”

You met his eyes, checking to see how far he would take this, how far you could push back. 

“I'll admit, I'm not against mixing pain and pleasure.” 

His gaze flicked down, slowly pushing his gun up the skin of your thigh, raising your skirt with the barrel to catch a quick glimpse of your panties. 

“I can tell.” 

If it weren't for his grip on you, you'd have lunged for him right then and there. The cool metal against your thigh had you shuddering against him, growing wetter by the minute. 

“I read somewhere once that we can't pretend to be someone else without actually becoming them in some small way. You've been a cartel whore for six months, I wonder if this is a lasting effect.” 

He was so close now all he needed to do to close the gap was change the angle of his head, but he kept you in place with that gun, pointing up from your pussy, flush against your stomach. 

“I'll tell you a secret - the part of me that's aroused right now definitely predates this cover.” 

His lips drop to yours, tongue clashing with yours furiously as he grabs the back of your head to angle you better. 

Letting his hand drop back to your thigh, he gently coaxed you further open, skirt riding up. Putting down the gym momentarily, he pressed a wandering finger against your pantie-clad pussy, feeling your arousal before he used it to coat his fingers. 

A second later and the offending pair of underwear lay discarded on the floor. 

“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, gasping for breath as he again picked up the gun. 

“You wanted this so badly, didn't you? You've been needing someone to treat you like this for months now. It didn't even have to be me.” 

He traced circles on your thigh with the gun, and you twitched, years of training not letting you relax around the weapon and months of sexual frustration, making you desperate for something to touch you. 

“Yes, yes, please touch me.” 

The hand at your throat slid down to your chest and pushed gently  urging you to lie back and let him do whatever he wanted with you. The desk was cold - metal biting at your bare skin - and it only sent more shivers down your spine as he lowered himself to his knees and parted your legs for his tongue. 

The first touch was heaven, a state of bliss you'd been without in what felt like forever. His tongue danced across your folds as he tasted every inch of your exposed cunt, grip still strong on the gun pointed now to your chest, pinning you between the machine and the table. 

You tried to be as still as possible, to take the pleasure he gave calmly, but you couldn't. You writhed, moaned, chest heaving as you tried to hold off the first orgasm you'd achieved with someone else in probably a year.  

Like a man on a mission, Spencer Reid did not care. He gladly suffocated between your thighs as you squeezed them together, wrapping them around his head so you could keep feeling the insurmountable pleasure of his tongue on your pussy. 

“Spencer…Spencer, fuck-” you said as he finally pried your legs apart, lifting them just slightly so his tongue could reach further inside of you, curling with each wave of passion. Your hands fisted his hair, desperate for something to ground you to the moment as your pleasure spilt out of you, orgasm jolting through you in tiny sparks of pleasure. 

The gun moved first, coming level with your chest as you untangled your fingers from his hair. Spencer stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he kept the gun on you. 

“I think this turns you on even more. You've been ruined by this cover, Y/N, you're so used to being in danger that you can't even get off without someone threatening you.” 

You attempted to scoff, to brush off his words somehow, but his hand was suddenly back around your throat, picking you up off the desk and pulling you instead towards the room's one-way window. 

“Look at yourself,” he said, again twisting you around so you were pressed into the wall, wrists above your hair, raising your shirt to expose the cold skin underneath. He ran the barrel across the fresh skin, leaving a field of goosebumps along his path. 

“I don't think it would've mattered who came in to rough you up. I think you'd just as happily have convinced Emily to fuck your little pussy raw, right Y/N? As long as there was a gun…” 

Your moan was the only response as he used the weapon to spread your legs. You naturally arched your back and kept your hands in place as he holstered the weapon momentarily to unzip his pants and let his cock free. 

You couldn't see it, but you saw his reflection in the mirror as he slowly stretched you out with it, mouth dropping in a lustful ‘o’ as he fed his dick to you, hard and thick. 

As soon as it was in, the gun came back out, this time to rest against your temple. 

“Get yourself off,” his voice was so low it was practically a growl. “Use my cock, and pleasure yourself.” 

Your body listened immediately, beginning to move back and forth on his cock as he held himself in place. His moans and groans were all the encouragements you needed, the gun at your temple was just made the pleasure more profound as you approached your release. 

But he kept you pinned to the glass, your full range of motion limited, and you whimpered in frustration that you couldn't feel every inch of him. 

“If you need something, use your words, Agent.” 

“More, need more, please..please,” you gasped, breathing ragged. 

The hands at your wrists released, and he fisted a hand into the flesh at your hip, your wrists resting on the glass next to your face as he took over your thrusting. 

“Can't even do this anymore, what a spoiled little whore,” he said as his hips began snapping into you, reaching that spot deep inside you as you drooled against the glass, wondering if anyone had just happened to step into that room and what they must think about you. 

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock,” he said it, and entranced, your body did just that, your orgasm taking the last breath of strength you had as he too plunged himself deeper and stilled there, his cum coating your walls. 

Neither of you moved for an eternity, but the first sign of clarity returning was the careful return of the gun to the holster. 

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Spencer minimized the mess you made together, cleaning you up as he slipped out of you. Discarding it momentarily on the floor, he pulled your clothes back into position and led you back over to the chairs. Just as he moved to sit you down, though, you turned and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. 

His arms hung suspended for a minute or two before he let them rest on your back, stroking your hair. 

“Sorry, it's been… it's been lonely, and I didn't realize how hard it had been until-” 

“It's okay. Take your time,” he said, sitting down in the chair and letting you curl up in his lap, burying your head in his neck

“We’ll catch this guy, and then you're out, okay Y/N? We'll come back and get you out soon.” 

Lifting your eyes to his, you nodded, pressing your lips to his with a smile as you again worked yourself back into character, regaining your earlier composure and lifting yourself from the man's too comfortable arms. 

“Well, Spencer, what do you say we get me back into panties and handcuffs and cut Caitlyn Grant loose?” 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[slasherhaven]

I don’t know if you’ve done this before but what about period sex? 🥺 I feel like the slashers are so used to blood it wouldn’t be upsetting to them. (Preferably with Thomas Hewitt because he’s my current hyper-fixation)

I honestly can't remember if I've written this. I thought I had but I can't find but even if I have, I'll happily write it again! Period sex had become a recent interest of mine to be honest...

Period Sex with The Slashers (NSFW):

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is phased by blood in the slightest, he's been working with it since he was old enough to work after all. However, it's different when it's you that bleeding!

He panics at the slightest sign of you being hurt, always wanting to protect you.

I doubt he has any real knowledge about periods, maybe he knows that some people have them but he definitely doesn't know much more than that.

When you're on your period, he likes to fuss over you and make sure you're alright. Especially after you explained everything about your experiences and if you have bad cramps.

You have to be the one who brings up the idea of having sex when you're on your period, because he definitely won't.

You're bleeding there! He assumes that because you're bleeding it would hurt, which you figure makes sense but you'll explain that you might be more sensitive but it won't be painful.

Thomas just need some reassurances that he's not going to hurt you or anything, and becomes more eager when you mention that orgasms can actually help ease cramps.

The blood doesn't bother him at all, he's not in the slightest bit put off or grossed out, it barely even registers with him once he's reassured that you're not in pain. But he still makes sure to be extra careful with you.

You just seem so...raw, that it could be painful. So, he'll just go slow and be careful.

Since he has absolutely no problem with blood, he will go down on you with as much enthusiasm as any other day. He doesn't mind getting his hands or face dirty.

Michael Myers

Michael has no problem with the sight of blood. In face, it might even lean in the other direction.

The blood doesn't put him off, it actually entices him. Gets his blood pumping like those moments before a hunt.

You might not even have to bring up the subject. He's still plenty open for sex, no matter how heavy your flow.

Still, he's not exactly educated about periods so might assumed your injured. But once he knows you're unharmed, he just shrugs it off as mostly unimportant. Is still going to be interested in sex as he is any other day. More so maybe.

Michael loves to smear the blood around, to have his hands coated in it, smearing bloody handprints over your hips and legs and everywhere else on your body. He has no interest in keeping things clean and tidy, it's a waste of time to even lay a towel down to be honest.

He doesn't take it easy on you either, even if you are feeling more raw and sensitive. In fact, he's only encouraged by your increased squirming and the sounds you make.

Jason Voorhees

Oh sweet Jason.

Sex is already a taboo thing to him, at least in the beginning of your relationship, and so are periods.

You've helped him so much when it comes to having a healthier relationship with sex and you've also taught him plenty about periods, because he wanted to learn, wanted to help you.

Jason always treats you like you're ill when you're on your period, wanting to dote on you and make sure those cramps aren't bothering you too much.

The thought of having sex with you on those days doesn't even occur to him. Not because he thinks it's gross or because he has a phobia of blood, but because he figures it would harm you in some way. I mean, you are bleeding and Jason has only ever associated blood with pain and violence and death. Not exactly sexy.

And when you make a move on him, he's more surprised than anything. You want to do that with him while you're bleeding?

Just very worried and concerned for your wellbeing.

Once you reassure him, he's willing to try it, though. You wouldn't lead him wrong, after all.

He'll lay down the towels and be gentle with you, every touch feather light and tender.

He's not really into the blood, more just unbothered by it. It's there but he doesn't care, it's not a turn on or a turn off.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is a horny bastard and if you think some blood is going to put him off, you clearly don't know him well.

Blood doesn't phase him anyway, so it's really not a problem.

You don't have to reassure him or anything, he's already tugging your underwear down.

He doesn't care about making a mess, about staining sheets or surfaces that you will have to clean later.

Doesn't have many feelings about the blood itself other than enjoying the feeling of it, warm and wet.

Will dip a finger in the blood and draw a little pattern on your stomach, just for the fun of it.

Also won't care about washing up before going to sleep, curling himself around you and drifting off while his thighs are still smeared with your drying blood.

You'll have to fight him into the shower, either before he falls asleep or in the morning. Which, of course, only leads into another round but at least he's a little cleaner now.

Bo Sinclair

Bo loves marking you up, claiming you as his.

The two of you might have even given blood play a try before. Bo's definitely into it and has fantasied about it at least.

He's an asshole when you're on your period, always blames your bad mood on it, and is just a general menace.

He's also a huge tease, especially if he knows you get horny on your period.

He'll have you against the kitchen counter, push a hand under your waistband, bring you to the edge of orgasm before slipping his hand out and sucking the blood from his fingers. Leaving you flustered and unsated.

And when he does fuck you, he can't take his eyes off of where you're connected, of where the blood smears over you both.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent isn't so interested in blood but he's seen more than enough so that it doesn't faze him.

So, he's not put off by you bleeding, he's just more concerned than anything.

If you're uncomfortable or in pain, his mind isn't going to sex. So, you'll probably have to be the one to initiate it.

He's not off put but it, just fusses to make sure you're certain and that it won't hurt you in anyway.

Puts all his focus in making sure you're comfortable.

Despite not being interested in blood in any sexual way, he does get a little curious. It's something new to explore with you and he's intrigued.

He's not very messy with it but finds that he does kind of like the way it stains the inside of your thighs at least.

Cleans you up so tenderly afterwards until there isn't a trace of blood left, just being his sweet self.

Lester Sinclair

Lester is not in anyway phased by dirt or blood or being messy in anyway.

It's not a flattering comparison but he handles roadkill everyday, he's not doing to be bothered by some blood.

The only reason he doesn't really consider having sex during those times is because he assumes you wouldn't want too. Just kinda assumed you don't desire it during that time, especially if you've ever mentioned being in pain with cramps or feeling 'gross' in someway while on your period.

However, he's not opposed to it when you suggest it. He's surprised when you hurry to assure him that it's alright if he doesn't want too, that you understand if he'd not into it while you're on your period.

Lester really doesn't care about any mess you make and you will have to be the person to grab the towels, he just wouldn't even think about it.

Doesn't care how heavy your period is, he has no fears when it comes to touching you or bringing you pleasure.

While Lester really isn't fazed by being dirty, he'll help you both wash up. Afterwards, if you just want to soak in the bath for a while, he'd more than happy to join you.

Bubba Sawyer

Blood is nothing to Bubba, might as well be water to him.

However, he does know that blood usually follows pain, and if you're bleeding, he's going to be concerned that your hurting. And lets be real, he might not even know what a period is.

So, after plenty of explanation and reassurances, we can talk period sex.

Once you've assured him that it's all normal and the pain is more in the cramps than anything else, Bubba really doesn't think much of it. He becomes more concerned about the cramps than the actual blood aspect. The bleeding itself is no big deal to him.

So, when you express that you would like to have sex with him even though you're still on your period, Bubba trusts that you know better than him on whether it's alright for you or not.

For Bubba it's just like the blood isn't there, just an addition to sex that he doesn't really need to worry about because it doesn't mean that he's hurting you.

Billy Lenz

Some blood isn't going to stop him from wanting you, from needing you.

Billy has a complicated relationship with blood. It's always followed negative feelings and experiences but it's also kinda...pretty?

He doesn't want to hurt you or make you bleed but if you're already bleeding and unharmed then...

Truly has no worries about mess, he loves when the two of you end up all sticky from bodily fluids. If that includes blood, that's perfectly fine by him.

He'll grin at you with your blood staining his mouth and cheeks, will smear bloody hands over your body and paint you with it.

He doesn't know why he finds it so enticing, so arousing, but he does. His eyes shine as he paints you both with your blood. And he's able to do all of this without harming you, which is a huge bonus for him.

Like Brahms, he'd happily just go to sleep without washing the drying blood off first. You have to drag him off to the shower and change the sheets because Billy will just sleep in the mess without worry.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

In general, blood is not all that new in your relationship.

Asa has definitely indulged his blood play kink with you, whether it was with your blood or somebody else's. So period sex isn't the craziest thing for him and he's not going to even bat an eye at it.

However, he is going to indulge.

Asa is pretty thrilled about you being more sensitive than usual, ready to find all new ways to torment and tease you.

You're not about to be ruining his sheets though, he's doing to be clean and tidy about it. He's using a mattress protector at the very least, or having you strapped to a table for him to experiment on you.

He has you squirming and pleading until there are tears in your eyes and you feel raw between your legs, even more so than you already did.

Slips his fingers between your lips, having you taste your own blood.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Come on, a little bit of blood isn't going to scare him.

In fact, blood arouses him and he isn't ashamed of that in the slightest.

You can try to initiate or he will, it doesn't really matter. A period isn't going to have Jesse dancing shyly around you.

Blood play is nothing new for the two of you so he turns it unto a bit of a challenge instead.

He'll have you ride him while he's fully dressed, warning you not to make a mess of his clothes.

And if you do get blood on his nice new suit, well...he's just going to have to punish you, isn't he?

Otis Driftwood

Otis is super into blood play and has already participated in it with you if you share his kink. If not, he's at least mentioned it multiple times.

So, this is just blood play without having to tend to wounds afterwards. That suits him just fine.

In Otis' opinion, the heavier your flow, the better.

He paints you both with it.

He loves seeing you covered in blood, the source of that blood is pretty unimportant to him (unless somebody else has hurt you, obviously).

He's not shy about his interest in the blood but by this point, you should know that it's something that turns him on. There is precious little that doesn't turn him on really.

Honestly, let's a little annoyed if there isn't enough blood for his liking but whatever.

By the end, he'd got drying blood on his face, hands, and thighs. Blood clotted in his facial hair and his teeth stained red, the coppery taste on his tongue.

The sheets are definitely ruined and if you don't get rid of them, Otis will keep them stains and all. He doesn't care about some dirty bedsheets after all.

Baby Firefly

For so many reasons, Baby isn't shy about some blood.

If you're on your period, she doesn't see why that should change your sex life unless you don't want to have sex on your period. Which she would respect, she knows how it can make you feel.

But she also knows that orgasms help with cramps and that sometimes a symptom of a period is being horny, and she will use these things against you just to tease you.

Come on, there's no need to deprive yourself just because of a little blood. She isn't fazed! Let her help!

Doodles little patterns all over you with your blood, giggling to herself about them.

Will paint her lips (and yours if you let her) with your blood just for her amusement if nothing else.

See! There can be some perks of a period when you're with Baby!

Yautja (Predator)

You don't have to tell your mate when you're on your period, he can smell it (not in a way that it smells bad, he just has those heightened alien senses).

He panics at the scent of blood first since Yautja don't menstruate so he assumes you're injured in some way.

He's quick and happy to learn though, and then stops being so concerned about it when your period comes along.

Other than the initial panic, your mate doesn't care about blood in the slightest. He's an Yautja, a predator, a hunter. Blood is a daily occurrence for him, it doesn't faze him.

And when he learns that pleasure can ease period cramps, he will practically insist on it for pain management reasons.

Honestly, the fact that you bleed like this monthly and just carry on with your life like nothing is wrong is admirable and worthy of respect in his eyes.

Having sex with you when you're bleeding, well, there's just something so primal about it.

The scent of your blood and your arousal has his own blood pumping and a growl emitting from behind his mandibles.

He loses himself in the sight of your blood, smearing it over your skin, tasting it.

Afterwards, he just holds you, nuzzling at your skin. Both of you still stained with your own blood.

#thomas hewitt x reader #michael myers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #billy lenz x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #jesse cromeans x reader #asa emory x reader #otis driftwood x reader #baby firefly x reader #yautja x reader #predator x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #my wiritng

[bedoballoons]

So I was having an ice cream cone earlier. And a thirsty thought came to me. What if reader is eating/licking ice cream while their boyfriend look at reader and started having horny thoughts?! Why lick the ice cream when theres other hotter things out there? Which is them?! 😳🤭 Feel free to choose any types of ice cream~ Ice cream cone, popsicle etc~ 🍦🍨🍧As for the boys, maybe Lyney, Wanderer, Xiao, Wrio, Albedo and any others you love~~

~🦊🐾✨️🍦

Ooo yummy~

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Sweet like ice cream~༺}

CW: NSFW! MDNI! Very suggestive talking and mentions of tasting the characters! Readers a tease! Slight begging and desperation on the characters part! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon chérie, Albedo: love)

(Includes: Lyney, Albedo, Wanderer, Xiao, and Wriothesley!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney was trying to look anywhere but your mouth...trying to focus on the ground instead of the way your lips encased the icy popsicle, tinted slightly red from the flavours...the way they slowly slid off it...and then were followed up by your tongue that licked up the sweet drips of the melting dessert. He was shivering in his seat, a mess forming in his tight clothes as his mind got the better of him...you had to be doing this intentionally.

"Mon chérie...that popsicle of yours, it certainly looks delicious...but I think those goregous red lips of yours could find something even tastier~"

𑁍༄Albedo:

Albedo was suddenly no longer intrigued with his paperwork, no far from it actually. All he could see was the ice cream that dribbled down your chin...how you used your fingers to collect it back up and lick it off the tips before going back to the cone itself. He was enraptured with it, feeling himself steadily growing hotter as he watched you,...couldn't you find better things to delight in...

"Albedo, you alright."

"...love, please finish your treat. I...I have a idea for another~"

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer grunted quietly, his hands snaking their way onto your waist so he could pull you back into him...so he could watch you snack on your frozen delight while you felt him get turned on between your legs. He was only getting more eager with every kitten lick you took of the sweet creamy delicacy...he wanted you to look just as pleased as you tasted him...and then he hoped he could taste you too...savour every single drop of you slowly.

"Hurry~"

𑁍༄Xiao:

"Please..." Xiao moaned into the crook of your neck, finding it hard to even out his breathing...to keep his hands away from you. Whatever spell you'd casted on him with the beautiful mouth of yours, it wasn't going to go away and till he got to taste you...till your lips were wrapped around him and the cream you were licking up was anything but his own...he needed it. "Please~"

𑁍༄Wriothesley:

Wriothesleys fingers tapped against the solid wood of his desk, normally he'd be writing out the schedule for the fortress...planning the rest of his day, but no. Today you had decided to try some of the homemade ice cream the cafeteria had been serving..and the way you were enjoying it had him unable to concentrate.

You kept licking of the cold creamy goodness of the spoon...taking a second to savour it before going in for another spoon full...if this was your idea of teasing...you were doing a damn good job of it.

"If you lick that spoon one more time, I'll make sure the next thing you taste is me and the wood of my desk as I ruin you against it~"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin #lyney smut #lyney x you #lyney x reader #albedo smut #albedo x you #albedo x reader #wanderer smut #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #xiao smut #xiao x reader #xiao x you #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you

[hannieehaee]

DOES HE KNOW ?

18+ / mdi

summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.

content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.8k

a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Something was clearly wrong with you.

Was Lee Chan hot?

Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.

You could date it back to a little over a month ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.

For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).

After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.

"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.

"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Sure."

"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.

You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.

Maybe he was drunk?

He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.

"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.

Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.

Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).

You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?

"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.

"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"

"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.

You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.

"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.

You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.

"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.

He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."

"He has a name, Soonyou-"

"None of us really care enough to learn it."

That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.

"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.

"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.

"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.

With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.

At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.

Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.

Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.

God damn you, Lee Chan.

"So, when are you gonna drop this game and finally let me take you to bed?", he whispered cockily against your ear.

He was always so goddamn confident about it; a trait you always liked about him but were beginning to detest.

As per usual, you simply jokingly groaned at him and pushed him away in a manner far too light to be considered serious.

"Fuck off, Lee Chan."

With a giggle, he stepped away, usual pep in his step as present as ever.

"I'll get you another drink, 'kay, pretty?", you lost him in the crowd after that.

You'd gone drinking with your friends yet again, though this time at a distant friend's house party. Your boyfriend was absent once more due to his personal disdain for such outings. He was simply not much of a social drinker, which was fine! It just bothered you at times how often he chose staying in rather than going out with you.

Despite your rejections of Chan, you felt embarrassed to admit that you loved the thrill of his interest in you. Never had you ever had someone so shamelessly after your affections despite your lighthearted refusals. It made you feel wanted and powerful. It felt specially good when it came from a guy as handsome and charismatic as Chan; a guy who could have basically any girl all thanks to his unbelievable charisma.

Yet he wanted you. He was after you.

The guy you knew most was currently infatuated with you.

Yeah, you did need that second drink.

"Where's your guy?"

Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice coming from behind you.

You turned around to find Vernon leaning back against the wall, a smirk on his face at having watched your encounter with Chan.

"Shut up," you walked over to recline on the wall next to him, deciding to people-watch alongside him.

"It was a genuine question," he claimed, handing you a sip of the beer he'd been nursing.

"He's working again," you sipped, handing it back to take turns as you waited for Chan to bring you your drink of choice.

"And Channie?"

"What about him?"

"Does your boyfriend know?", he asks, more curious than actually interested.

Men, nosy as usual.

You groan, "Don't ask me that, Non."

"C'mon! Has he not noticed the way Chan's been after you these past few weeks?", he seemed far too entertained by the subject.

"Of course not! Chan's kept his distance around him, but ..."

"But?"

You turned your head to him, back still leaning against the wall, "I don't know!"

"Well, do you like him? Channie, I mean."

"It's- I like the attention."

"And him?", he pressed.

"He's starting to wear me down," you admitted.

Vernon chuckled into his red solo cup, "It's cute."

"What is?"

"The back and forth, the 'will they, won't they.' But if you ask me, I think they will."

"I have a boyfriend, Non," you grumbled, not entirely convincing in your tone.

"Yeah, but are you guys even friends? Wouldn't it be better to date someone who you actually like?"

"Stop doing PR for Chan. It's not like he needs it," you grumbled, already uses to this back and forth with many of your other friends – all of whom were rooting for Chan.

"Fine. But get out of here. Your guy's probably looking for you."

"My guy's not here."

"I meant Channie, now go!"

You grumbled again before walking in the direction in which Chan had left, knowing he'd likely still be in the kitchen attempting to fetch you a drink.

It didn't take you long to find him, nor did it take you long to spot the girl standing next to him, seemingly flirting up a storm. Chan didn't seem too deterred by this either. More than anything, he appeared to he reciprocating.

Maybe this was why you and Chan started off as friends and remained so for the years you'd known each other. He always had a girl clinging onto him one way or another. Though he didn't date much, he sure enjoyed swooning girls whenever he could.

You'd always been very strict about being exclusive with whoever you dated, never wanting to compete for someone's attention or engage in prolonged talking stages. This was something you differed in with Chan. He was quite the opposite, engaging in situationships that never really led anywhere. As his friend, you never really cared much for this. If it worked for him, then that was that. However, now that he was supposedly attempting to pursue you, – despite you being in a relationship – you couldn't help but scoff at the sight of Chan still entertaining any girl that'd show interest in him.

You almost turned around and left, but were promptly stopped by the man himself, who spotted you before you could take one step and disregarded the girl immediately. The girl scoffed in your place, clearly put off by Chan's attention being taken away so easily.

"Babe!", he called out, one drink in each hand, as he approached you, "Sorry I took so long, the line was crazy."

Immaturely enough, you rolled your eyes and grabbed the drink from his hand, ignoring his statement as you sipped it. You really had no right to be jealous of Chan talking to other girls. You were taken, and you weren't even interested in Chan. Were you? Still, you disregarded those thoughts and allowed the bitterness to cloud your mind and began walking away from the boy.

"Huh?", a question mark physically manifested itself above Chan's head as you began walking away from him, "Baby? Wait, where are you going?", his arm managed to reach you before you got far enough and softly turned you around to face him.

The two of you were still standing far too close to the people crowding the kitchen, however, so Chan assessed that it'd be better to move to a quieter spot in order to properly check in on you. With a decisive nod to himself, he grabbed onto your hand and walked you over to an empty hallway before turning to you again.

"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone? Did someone-"

The concern in his eyes seemed very genuine, making you feel bad for being such a brat at the mere sight of Chan interacting with another woman. You had never had an issue with your best friend being around other women. Hell, you never even cared whenever he would occasionally ditch you for other girls. The two of you were simply best friends. You had always rooted for him in his romantic life, even encouraging him with it.

But things had drastically changed as soon as he began showing interest in you.

It was like his sudden interest had unlocked a part of you you hadn't known was there. It had given you this brand new possessiveness you had never held over Chan before; a possessiveness you didn't even feel for your current boyfriend.

And it made you feel embarrassed. Tremendously so. It also made you feel like a hypocrite. Here you had a guy who was clearly extremely into you, yet he had made no comment nor expressed any disdain over the fact that you already had a guy. Chan had never expressed any type of jealousy over any of your past relationships. Despite having liked you for the entire duration of your friendship (information you were unsure Chan was aware you knew), Chan always respected your relationships and even tried to befriend any guy you brought along. Yet you couldn't hold back your bitterness at him showing interest in someone else; interest you now felt should be reserved only for you.

The hypocritical nature of your feelings made you look down in embarrassment as you interrupted Chan's inquiries, clarifying that nothing was wrong.

"No, Chan. I'm fine, I swear. Just a little tired. I, uh, thanks for the drink."

"Hey, are you sure?", he lifted your face with a finger to your chin, making you hold eye contact with him.

It was quite insane how this was not even meant as a flirtatious move, but rather a demonstration of his platonic worry for you. Yet your heart sped up anyways.

"I'm fine, Chan! It's just the crowds. You know how I get. Nonnie told me to go look for you and there were so many people in the kitchen, and then I couldn't come up to you because of that girl and-"

Your rambles were interrupted by an exclamation mark practically manifesting itself above Chan's head, with the sudden realization of your jealousy hitting him.

"Oh?", he tilted his head and leaned in a bit closer as a grin began making its way onto his face, "'That girl'?", he repeated.

"Chan-"

He got closer to you, now cornering you against the hallway wall, still giving you space but blocking your view of anything other than him.

"I'm sorry, baby. Did that bother you? Hmm? Me talking to some other girl?"

"It's not like that! I just-"

"It's okay. You can admit it. I won't judge you," except his smirk was nothing but condescending.

"Chan! I-"

"But that's kinda funny, though. Isn't it?", he chuckled to himself.

"W-what is?," you stammered at his sudden shift in mood.

Though he was still far too close for a friend to be, and he was still leaning into your touch, his tone had shifted to one a bit more cynical in nature.

"You're jealous? Baby, you have a boyfriend."

"I do, and-"

"So what's there to be jealous about? You've got your guy. Yet you're looking my way? When you've been rejecting me all this time?", he leaned even closer, almost breathing right against your nose, eyes hooded as they bore into your own, alternating between your eyes and lips in a somewhat teasing manner.

"I-I'm not jealous. Just ... Why flirt with me if you're after other girls too?", you made the mistake of asking.

"Oh, baby. I'm not looking at anyone else. Not my fault you're so possessive you can't even stand other girls looking at me," you knew he was simply teasing you, knowing full well that you were not the possessive type. But his words carried a slight weight of truth behind them.

You had no reason to feel any type of possessiveness over Chan. Yet you still felt uneasy at the thought of Chan's eyes on anyone who wasn't you. Now that you had a taste of his attention you wanted it all to yourself.

"I just have one question," he whispered, far too close to you.

You nodded at him to continue, wide eyes on his own.

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"That you like me back," his eyes went down to your lips again.

"Chan. Stop. I-I'm not gonna cheat on my boyfriend," you huffed, avoiding his eyes – which was quite hard at his close proximity.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, with your eyes occasionally dropping to his lips. But it was fine, since his own were also on yours – though his expression was more triumphant than anything, while yours revealed your nerves. Had you been in a less restricting position, your thighs would've instinctively pressed together at the thoughts that were suddenly running through your mind at his proximity, but thankfully the situation didn't drag long enough for your lust to reveal itself.

He finally pulled away, smirk still on his face, "I'd never ask you to do that, baby. 's just nice to know my plan's working," he chuckled.

"What plan?"

"I'm wearing you down. You want me."

Unfortunately, you had no rebuttal, knowing that Chan had won this round. Even if you denied his statement (which you had half the mind to do), he had caught you red handed. You had whined about not having his full attention just like a petulant child would. Nothing you said would save you from that.

You managed to move on from that quite quickly, finding Soonyoung and Kwannie just a few moments later and using them as an excuse to move on from the way in which Chan had cornered you. You spent the rest of the party pondering Chan's words. Did you actually want him? Or was it just that you wanted him to want you?

Now you were stuck with embarrassing moisture between your thighs and countless doubts hanging over your head.

"C-Channie! Oh, Channie, fuck!"

Your cries of pleasure were unparalleled as the pretty boy you liked to call your best friend slurped at your cunt like a starved man.

You weren't sure how long he had been at it, nor were you sure how you'd ended up in this situation, but you had no complaints. His tongue between your thighs was pure heaven, especially with the pathetic whines the boy kept letting out at your taste.

"'sso good, princess. Cunt's so tasty ... Been wanting it since I met you ... Been waiting for you for years," he mumbled against your cunt, getting back to licking and sucking immediately.

While your heart was unsure what to make of such a heavy statement, your body responded with desperation. To have a man yearn for you like that for years was doing wonders for your cunt. It made you gush like crazy, beginning to grind against Chan's face in such a depraved way.

"Just like that, fuck. Fuck my face just like that," he groaned, the vibrations of his voice causing you to grind even harder against him.

"C-Channie! It's so good ... So fucking good, oh!"

He seemed to get off on your praise, you realized, as you felt ruckus on the bed beneath you caused by Chan canting his hips against your mattress and moaning incessantly into your cunt. The knowledge of your taste alone making Chan lose himself in such a way was enough to drive you towards your high, getting closer and closer by the second.

"Gonna make me cum, princess. Got such a pretty fucking pussy," he managed to breathe out despite exerting all his efforts into fucking the mattress.

Surprising to no one, Chan claimed your orgasm on his tongue just moments later, somehow managing to talk you through it and make the experience even more swoon-worthy than it already was. Chan had managed to make you feel a way no one had ever before, making you ache for him with just his words.

It had all ended far sooner than you would've liked, but it was fine. You knew that with a few kisses to his ear Chan would give you whatever you wanted without question.

Yet before you could even get to enjoy the entirety of your high, it was abruptly taken from you the moment your alarm began ringing, awakening you from what you hadn't realized was just slumber.

Waking up from a wet dream was already embarrassing enough on its own, but waking up from a wet dream about your best friend whom you swore you weren't into like that was a new level of low.

As much as you tried to brush it off as some sort of fluke or meaningless dream, you knew better. You had never thought of Chan in such a way, much less imagined him in that context, so it was safe to say that Chan had been right. His plan was working.

~

The following hours were spent on alert (and still incredibly horny). You thought about calling up your boyfriend to help you out, but the thought in itself felt dirty. How could you ask your boyfriend to take care of a problem caused by your best friend? There was that, and the fact that your brain would probably not be satisfied by your boyfriend right now.

You needed to get Chan out of your system.

You knew that if you called up Chan and explained your problem to him he'd come running immediately, no questions asked as he helped you relive your dream. Such a thought had your head spinning and your knees feeling weak. Except you had a moral compass that was preventing you from doing so. So, you spent the next few hours extremely sensitive and attempting to take care of yourself in any way you could think of.

Unfortunately nothing compared to your dream. Nothing felt as warm and loving as Chan had felt. There was not a single thing that could bring back that feeling of want Chan had towards you; a feeling you were so desperate for. This led you to spend the rest of the day sexually frustrated, unable to reach your high as you felt something was thoroughly missing.

Even when your boyfriend stopped by to see you after work, things had gone awry. You'd received him at the door in a desperate manner, dragging him in with you and inciting him into fucking you. You didn't care if you had Chan in mind anymore, you just needed some satisfying release. Sadly, your boyfriend did not match your energy, opting to slow you down and have his way with you in his own way. This led to yet another unsatisfying release to add to today's tally. You were unsure if you could even call it a release, as it felt entirely underwhelming and had been mostly accomplished by your own hand.

Going to sleep, still sexually frustrated, you cursed at yourself for letting Lee Chan get in your head.

Spending time with Chan after your incident was nothing less than incredibly awkward.

Despite Chan being fully unaware of what had gone down in your subconscious, you couldn't help the blush that would take over your face any time the two of you made eye contact. He had all the power at the moment.

You had also made the mistake of discussing the occurrence with your closest friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung. Purposely, you had not mentioned the name of the culprit behind your wet dream, but it had not been hard for your nosy friends to figure it out on their own.

"You had a sex dream about Channie?!", Soonyoung had all but whispered, causing some old ladies across the diner to look your way in judgment.

Fortunately not too many people were present at the diner you were currently hanging out at, but it didn't really help the embarrassment you felt at the words even being uttered. This was the only time in which you could see your friends without Chan's presence, so you couldn't be too picky about the setting.

"Soonyoung! Shut the hell up!", you whisper-shouted at him, throwing a rolled up napkin at him in punishment, "I never said it was about Chan."

"Please. Who else would it be about? Sure as hell can't be about your vanilla boyfriend. And anyone else like Mingyu or Wonwoo would be too obvious for you to be so embarrassed about it. It has to be Chan," Seungkwan butted in nonchalantly.

"I- It's- my boyfriend is not vanilla!"

"You didn't deny it! It was Channie!", Soonyoung was far too excited at having guessed correctly.

Giving up, and knowing you needed some external input on your predicament, you nodded in shame, admitting to your sin in order to maybe get some advice on the situation.

"What do I do? I ... I can't stop thinking about it. Fuck, I can't even look at Chan in the eye anymore."

"Was it good?"

"Soonyoung, stop! That's not the point."

"He has a point. Not really worth ruining your relationship over some mediocre head," argued Seungkwan.

"Shut up! It- Fuck, it was so good," you groaned into your hands in utter embarrassment.

"Dude I knew Chan would be good at head. It's in his eyes. I'm telling you, people with those big doe eyes are freaks in bed," Soonyoung couldn't seem to stop spewing his headcanon of Chan at you.

"Or at least dream-Chan is," agreed Kwan.

"What do I do?! It won't leave my mind. I- I've already tried fucking it out of my head, but even then-"

"Hold on. You had sex with your boyfriend while thinking about Chan? Does he know?"

"Soonyoung!"

"Man, he'd pass out if he heard that. Do you know how many time's he's walked us through his sex dreams?", cackled Soonyoung.

This obviously caught your attention, making you widen your eyes and fastening the speed of your heartbeat.

Chan had had sex dreams about you too?

I mean, it should've been obvious considering the amount of dirty innuendos and straight-up proposals he's given you these past few weeks, but you had never actually thought about it in depth.

Fuck.

Chan wanted to fuck you.

The thought made you gulp and press your thighs together, actions your friends thankfully did not catch onto.

"He, uh, he's told you about his sex dreams about me?", you asked with a complete lack of confidence in your voice.

"God, don't even get him started," grumbled Seungkwan, slurping his almost empty americano before continuing, "It's Hoshi who keeps instigating him into telling us every excruciating detail."

Soonyoung nodded in confirmation, "Dude, he gets nasty," he whispers as if it was a sin to utter out loud – despite having previously aired your own sex dream to the whole diner.

God, were you interested in knowing more. But you couldn't blow your cover. You were far too horny and pent up already. Hearing about how your sexy (yes, you were at the point of shamelessly admitting it) best friend giving it to you in the nastiest scenarios imaginable would probably make you combust in front of your best friends and every other unsuspecting person in the establishment.

With dry lips and wetness already gathering between your thighs, you simply hummed in acknowledgment and moved on with the conversation, eventually managing to change subjects without giving away your cover.

~

Never in your life had you ever had such urgency in getting home.

Upon locking your front door, you immediately ran to your bed, undressing yourself in the process and getting ready to rid yourself of the ache between your legs that had been bothering you since that wretched dream.

You knew that you wouldn't be able to satisfy yourself as well as you wanted without Chan's aid (you'd tried endless times just a few days ago), but trying was better than nothing.

Getting yourself started was easy. All you had to do was remember the very vivid image of dream-Chan slobbering between your legs, begging you to use his face however you saw fit and claim your orgasm as if it were a god-given right.

But imagination wasn't enough.

You had half the mind to call up Chan right there and then and crying to him to please come and take care of you. The repeated knowledge that Chan would likely come to you with no question nor judgement made the task of holding back even harder. It made you cry at the frustration your fingers were giving you; they just weren't enough. Not even after the endless attempts these past few days had you been able to calm the fire between your legs. The last time you saw your boyfriend – just after your damned sex dream – had been yet another failed attempt. It seemed like nothing could truly get you there.

That's when you thought of the perfect thing.

Chan always had the tendency of either taking you home himself or sending you a short voice message to ensure you had arrived home safely – always insisting on one in return. This message always contained Chan's raspy voice after a long day of shenanigans, usually calling you one pet name or another as he checked in on you.

No matter how ashamed you felt at it, the burning between your legs did seem to diminish upon turning up the short voice message he had left you just last week. His words, accompanied by his voice, did wonders for your imagination.

"Hey, babe", it had started, "Just wanted to check in on you and make sure you got home okay. Need you to send me a message back as soon as you can, yeah?"

This had been enough to start you up again, the usual 'babe' nickname and the soft command causing an effect on you it never had in all your years of friendship.

"You looked so pretty today," he sighed, "Did I tell you that? Need to be telling you that every day. You're gorgeous. Don't even know how such a pretty girl puts up with us," he chuckled.

Oh, Channie ...

He'd always been so sweet to you. Such a fun friend, but also such a sweet boy who'd always coddle you and treat you better than anyone else. You could almost picture him swooning at you as he reminisced on the pretty dress you'd worn that day.

You couldn't think of anyone else who thought of you that fondly. Yet you were currently too busy using an unsuspecting Chan to get off after days of being pent up due to that same boy.

"Miss you already, gorgeous. Should've taken you home myself, ugh," he groaned at himself, "That way I would've at least gotten a goodnight kiss," he paused, chuckling, "on the cheek, of course."

It was probably just your horny brain talking, but had Chan been in front of you at that moment, you would've done far more than just kiss him. You didn't know where all this sudden lust for Chan had come from, but that dream had come with an epiphany. Maybe you'd been attracted to your best friend all this time.

"'Kay, Imma leave you now, okay, princess? Message me back when you're ready for bed, alright? You know how I worry. Goodnight, beautiful. I love you," he ended the recording with a soft kiss.

The short voice message wasn't enough to work yourself up to an orgasm, so you revisited as many of his old messages as you could, recalling some specially soft ones he'd send you where he'd call you all the petnames known to man and praise you enough to make you blush.

You also thought about what Soonyoung had said, how Chan's dreams about you would get nasty. You thought of every nasty thing the man was probably itching to do to you. You thought of how easily you'd let him if he was here at this moment.

Throughout it all, you pictured Chan and the actions that would accompany his words if he were in the room with you. You imagined the soft touches and the praise he'd spew endlessly at you. The eyes full of genuine love – mixed with a little lust – that would watch you as you came undone.

And come undone you did. It wasn't as good as it would've been with the real Chan present and taking care of you, but it sure beat the multiple unsatisfying orgasms you'd had in the past few days.

"We broke up."

Those were your opening words upon approaching the usual table you shared with your friends.

This time Seokmin had decided to join.

"You what?"

"Because of Chan?"

"Really?!"

All responses were delivered simultaneously, making you groan as you sat down, knowing you were in for a lengthy interrogation from the three nosiest men you knew.

You covered your face in your hands and exhaled before unmasking yourself and facing your friends with seriousness in your demeanor.

"Didn't feel right when I kept thinking about Chan," you started, "He understood, which made it worse. Said he'd been too busy with work lately, was thinking of taking some time apart anyways."

It had been a few days since your wet dream about Chan. After your lonely escapade the night after – the night with the cursed voice memos – you had gone over to your boyfriend's place to end it. You hadn't hung out much in the past few weeks. There had been no spark for a bit. The goodness of your short-lived relationship was probably just the honeymoon period, which ended around the same time Chan decided to make his interest on you known.

It was all too much to deal with, so breaking it off seemed easier.

"Wow," aired Soonyoung.

"Yeah. Wow. How are you feeling?", asked Seokmin.

"I'm fine. Just, you know, feel kinda bad. I didn't want to be with someone if my heart wasn't fully in it," you mumbled, a little solemn.

"Does Channie know?"

"God, no. I've been avoiding him since," you eyed Kwan and Soonyoung, "uh, you know," you didn't want Seokmin to be yet another one of your friends to know about your sexual escapades in your slumber.

"Oh, you mean the sex dream?"

Your stare turned menacing, facing the only two possible culprits, "Who told him?"

"It was Soonie!", Seungkwan revealed immediately.

"Wait! No, I-"

"Did you tell anyone else? Oh my god, does Chan know?!"

"No! I only told Seokmin, I swear! He asked why we were meeting while Chan's working, so I told him."

"Don't worry, I won't tell. Scout's honor."

Seokmin held an innocent pinky towards you. Already done with the situation, you halfheartedly intertwined pinkies and moved on.

"So ... Channie?", Seungkwan asked once more.

"What about him?", you feigned curiosity.

"Playing dumb isn't gonna help things."

"What, do you want me to tell him about my dream?"

"That'd be kinda weird, man, I don't know," added Seokmin.

"I think it'd be hot."

"Soonyoung, shut up!", you told him for the nth time since the subject of your 'crush' on Chan had first come up.

Seungkwan side-eyed them before continuing, "No, but you like him, don't you?"

Did you? Did you actually like Chan?

Before Chan had showed interest in you, you had never considered it. Ever since you'd met him, Chan had always been nothing more than your best friend, your partner in crime. You had never felt as safe and comfortable with anyone as you had with Chan, and that was still the case. No boyfriend had ever made you feel as at ease as Chan always did.

His crush had brought out something in you. Had it been any other friend who suddenly revealed their feelings for you, you would've reacted in horror. But it was different with Chan. For some reason, you didn't feel put off by it, nor did you try to chase him away for his feelings for you. It wasn't one of those situations where the boy suddenly decides to pursue his girl-friend and ruins the friendship altogether. This had opened pandora's box for you, making you realize that Chan's affections would've always been welcomed by you.

Even if you jokingly rejected him or told your friends you had a boyfriend, it was all simply due to your moral compass. You weren't a cheater, so you couldn't take Chan too seriously even if you wanted to. But now you were single, and now you had to figure out if you really wanted Chan in the same way he wanted you.

"I know that I want him, but I need to make sure that I want him, you know? I'd never want to hurt his feelings or jeopardize our friendship just because I was horny one day."

"So you're scared it might just be that you're sexually attracted to him?"

"No, it's just ..."

"You want to know whether or not you like him and not just the attention he gives you."

It was surprisingly Soonyoung who had deciphered it.

"Y-yeah. Fuck. Does that make me a narcissist?"

"Nah. It's better to be sure. You've been friends with Channie since forever. It makes sense for you to wanna be cautious."

"You should probably stop avoiding him, though. He's, uh, starting to notice," revealed Seokmin.

"Yeah, he won't stop whining. Just put him out of his misery already," said Soonie.

"Okay, I guess I'll talk to him next time I see him."

You didn't really feel ready for it, but the time to confront Chan would have to come sooner or later.

Next time you saw Chan was actually far too soon for your liking. Just the following day you found yourself at yet another house party; a small gathering among your friend group and some other people. It wasn't anything too big, so you knew that you'd inevitably bump into Chan.

It had only been about a week since you last spoke to Chan, but that had been a week too long. Throughout the duration of your friendship, the longest you ever went without constant communication had been three days, which had been a total accident on both your parts. The two of you would at least text once a day, even coming to have an unbroken streak of endless texts.

Fuck, you missed him.

Chan obviously must've noticed your lack of communication these past few days. You weren't even sure why you had decided to keep him in the dark. It wasn't just the wet dream (which was still haunting you, but had moved to the back burner for now), and it wasn't your breakup either. You were just confused about your feelings for the boy, but punishing him by icing him out had been far too much. Now you felt guilty.

You felt extra guilty when you finally spotted Chan across the party, sitting alone on a loveseat while he attempted but failed at discreetly looking over at you. He looked like a wounded puppy as he did so, pout on his lips and furrowed brows. It made you want to kiss the pout right off his face.

It was easy to tell that he wanted to approach you, but was simply trying his hardest to respect the boundary you had seemingly put up out of nowhere. This meant that you'd have to be the one to talk to him.

Then you took action, throwing away the drink you had been nursing and walking over to him, ignoring his shocked expression when you wordlessly grabbed his hand and pulled him to an empty room in the shared house. You locked the door and turned to him, unsure on what to say first.

Chan was the now the one to surprise you, immediately trapping you in a bear hug and burying his face in your shoulder, loudly breathing you in.

He didn't let go for a couple of minutes, even nudging you to keep hugging him back when you went to pull away.

When he finally let go, you finally had the chance to look at the boy for a moment.

Yeah, you liked him.

You had missed him far too much to be able to deny it.

You liked Lee Chan, and you were ready to let it be known to the world.

But then he started speaking.

"I'm so sorry," he started, utterly confusing you as to what he could be apologizing for, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I, fuck. I must've crossed a line with my flirting, and I never meant to. You're my best friend, and I need to respect you, an-and I need to respect your relationship. I thought that maybe somehow I could get you to see me as more than a friend, but it was stupid of me to assume you'd drop your boyfriend just because your dumb friend suddenly had a crush on you – which, uh, isn't the case, by the way," he looked down, embarrassed, "I've liked you since we met. So much. I assumed Hoshi must've told you by now. Anyways, I, uh, I'm really sorry. I'll stop. I will never bring it up again, just, fuck, please don't be mad. I'll take anything you give me. If friendship is what you want then I'll be the bestest friend you've ever had, just-"

It was impossible to take his senseless rambles anymore. You were getting too emotional at the thought of having put Chan through this turmoil when you had spent the last few days tending to the ache he had caused between your legs and subsequently breaking up with your boyfriend in order to figure out your feelings. It made you feel equally embarrassed and ridiculous, yet the effects of your silence made you begin to tear up at the apologetic boy in front of you.

Interrupting him, you hugged him again, somehow even tighter this time. This thankfully shut him up, allowing his body to lose its tension and letting himself become limp in your hold.

After some more moments of silent hugging, you were the one to pull away this time, giving him a sympathetic smile as you raised a hand to caress his cheek. It made you soon the way in which he leaned against your palm and gave you the sweetest smile known to man.

"Channie, you did nothing wrong ... I'm sorry for cutting you off like that, that was so wrong of me. I should've talked to you and told you how I was feeling. I wish I was half as confident about my feelings as you are, but I just felt so-" you paused, not knowing what you were even trying to express, "a-and then I just started avoiding you to avoid my feelings all together. I'm sorry."

"No, you have nothing to apologize for," he put his hands on your shoulders to ensure you were understanding his point, "I should've respected your boundaries. I never even should've tried to pursue you when I know you have a boyfriend, it was so-"

"had", you clarified, shy.

"what?"

"I had a boyfriend. We, uh, we broke up a few days ago."

"You ... Fuck, was it because of me?"

His eyes were like saucers, but you could see a small hint of a smile that he quickly wiped off when he realized the context of the situation.

"I want to say no, but ... yeah, I did."

Still feeling unbelievably ashamed at the memory of what had first led you to consider breaking up with your boyfriend, – a stupid wet dream you still couldn't get out of your mind – you avoided eye contact. Now you knew that that had only been the catalyst of realizing your feelings for Chan, but it still didn't help matters much, specially knowing that Chan would find out sooner or later.

"God, I'm so so sorry-"

"Chan! Stop apologizing! It wasn't because of anything you did. I just ... I realized some things these past few weeks and .. I realized we weren't really right for each other," you took a breath, "Not when you were all I could think about."

"Y-you ...?"

"I'm going to be candid, okay? Just, please don't interrupt."

He nodded, giving you the green light.

"A little over a week ago, uh, something happened. And then I couldn't keep you out of my mind. I tried talking to the guys, I even tried using my boyfriend as a distraction, but nothing worked. I started avoiding you because I just felt so awkward realizing I was beginning to develop feelings for you. It was wrong of me, but I needed time. I broke up with him because it didn't feel right to be with someone else while you were the only person I wanted around."

Saying it felt like a breath of fresh air. Not only were you admitting it to Chan, but also to yourself. Your friendship with Chan had never been your average friendship. Even before he had decided to begin shamelessly hitting on you, he had always been the sweetest and most caring boy you'd ever met. Sending you voice memos every time you went home alone, always being in charge of getting your drinks, driving you wherever you wanted, being overly affectionate with you any time he felt you might've needed it. The boy had always been the perfect match for you, you just couldn't grasp it until he began to literally shove it in your face.

"What made you realize it?"

Not expecting him to question you, but rather just accept your sudden change of heart, you hadn't thought of how to explain to him that a sex dream was what had brought you to this epiphany.

But what did you have to lose at this point? Most of your friends already knew, and to be quite frank, you still wanted Chan extremely badly. Telling him wouldn't be the end of the world.

"I, uh, I had a dream about you ..." you muttered, eyes avoiding his own.

His already wide eyes widened even more, a smirk forming itself on his features as he tilted his head in question.

"Uhm, care to repeat that for me?"

"Chan, shut the fuck up. You heard me."

"I didn't! Just tell me. Please?"

With a sigh, you repeated yourself, this time a little more clear, "I had a dream about you."

"Uh-huh. What type of dream?"

"Chan!"

"Princess, please. I embarrassed myself for you for weeks. I pined for you for years. Just give me what I wanna hear," he pleaded, somehow cocky in the way he did so.

"Fuck, fine. I had a wet dream about you. I dreamt about you between my legs, giving me the greatest orgasm I've ever experienced and begging me for more. I dreamt of your pathetic whines while I ground my cunt on your face. And then I woke up before I could cum. I spent the entire day trying to get that feeling back but nothing worked, Chan, nothing. I couldn't look you in the eyes after that so I just avoided you."

Finally giving him the most candid version of the events made you feel a weight leave your shoulders, specially upon realizing that the boy who currently held your heart had been rendered unable to use this as ammunition against you as you watched his cocky expression turn into one of lust.

"Oh," he breathed out. Taking a few moments to regain his composure, he spoke up again, "W-was that it? Or do you, uh, do you also like me back?"

"I like you, Chan. So much. The dream was just what made me realize that I wanted you in every way imaginable."

A decisive expression now took over his face, nodding to himself before moving closer to you, taking up all your personal space.

"That's all I needed to know," he declared before claiming your lips in a heated kiss.

Chan kissed you with everything he had to give. The kiss immediately grew lustful, with Chan licking into your mouth for access the second you made the smallest sound of surprise. And, fuck was Chan a great kisser.

His tongue was practically making love to yours, rendering your legs weak and shaky. Thankfully Chan realized this, pushing you to the nearest wall so that he could continue to take over all your senses.

Scratching and pulling at his hair, you caused Chan to moan against your lips, only making you whine in return. Chan took this as a sign to move forward, beginning to grind his expert hips against your own. Already hard, Chan's clothed cock felt like heaven against your burning cunt. You had begged for a proper release for days, and you were now afraid that some light dry humping would be enough to take you there before you could finally relive your dream.

But did you care? Did you care enough to halt Chan's movements when they were already making your eyes roll back? Your body made the decision for you, pushing your hips against his own and making him release a gruttal groan against your lips.

"N-need you so fucking bad ..." he breathed against your lips, barely able to get a word out as you insisted of licking into his mouth as he spoke. This made him groan again, "Princess, please ... You're gonna kill me."

Pulling away, you grabbed his hands and placed them on your breasts, making eyed at him as you spoke, "Channie, just touch me. Don't care what you do, just ... just take care of the problem you caused."

He whined at the feeling of your body at his palms, immediately groping and feeling up every inch of your body before trapping your mouth in another heated kiss. His hands soon became too desperate to feel you through your clothes, carelessly unwrapping you from every piece of clothing he could. He left you in your underwear, having thrown off your dress and holding onto your hands so you could haphazardly kick off your shoes. Chan's clothes joined soon after, with his own hands throwing off all but his boxers.

Before he could claim your lips in a kiss again, you grabbed him by the hand, leading him to a nearby couch in order to sit him down. Sitting on his lap, you kissed him again and again, thoroughly enjoying how liberal his hands were in the way he touched you.

Finally throwing off your bra, you felt up your tits a bit as Chan watched you with a pained look in his face, mouth open and eyes glued to your breasts. His lips attached to your tits immediately after, going crazy in the way he suckled and bit at them.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he mumbled against your tit, "Fuck, dreamt about you every night ... This pretty body and all your pretty noises. Can't believe I get to have you now," he kissed his way back up to your neck, hands never halting in their caressing of your body.

He pulled away to look into your eyes – though his eyes kept dropping to your lips, "You're embarrassed about your dream?", he chuckled, "Want me to tell you some of mine? Hmm?", he began to manhandle you, positioning you so that you could lay horizontally on the couch and he could lay above you, "So fucking nasty, baby, it'd make you blush."

"Channie ..."

"Gonna do so many nasty things to you. Want me to whine for your pussy? Oh, baby ... Gonna beg for pussy every day, shit," his hand went down to rub your wet cunt through your panties, "'sso wet," he groaned, "Gonna lick it all up again and again. Need to suffocate between these thighs," he made his way down your body as he said this, eventually coming face to face with your cunt.

Leaving a kiss on your weeping cunt, he licked through your panties, causing you to arch your back for him and throw your head back. The warmth of his tongue could've been enough to claim your orgasm, but somehow you persisted.

Chan became desperate for you quickly after that, removing your panties and lifting your thighs so that he could finally bury himself between your legs the way you'd been wanting him to for so long.

"Channie, fuck!," you cried, pulling at his hair while pushing his head further against you.

"Use me. God, just ... Grind that cunt against me ..."

And so you did. You took advantage of your pretty best friend's desperation for you and employed your own desperation for him. To any outsider, you must've looked like the image of depravity as you used Chan for your pleasure, but Chan was just as depraved. You could feel the couch shake from under you, indicating the way in which Chan ground against it as you claimed your orgasm on his tongue.

Riding your high was an incomparable experience. No one had ever made you feel as much pleasure as Chan had. Not even dream-Chan lived up to reality.

You could've sworn you lost consciousness for a few moments after your high, feeling completely weightless when it had finally died down. Your ability to think only came back by the time Chan had climbed back up your body and kissed at your chest once more, smiling at you when he finally reached your lips.

Instead of sharing a sweet moment with him, you claimed his lips once more and licked every last bit of your essence from his mouth. He groaned and allowed his tongue to mingle with yours in such a nasty manner that it made you blush when you remembered that Chan was nothing more than your best friend less than an hour ago.

"Let me fuck you," Chan pleaded when he finally managed to pull away from your greedy lips.

"How do you want me?", you asked as your lips tried to reclaim his yet again. Fuck, he was such a good kisser.

"Fuck. I get to choose?"

You couldn't help but be endeared by him. Also incredibly turned on by how much he clearly wanted you.

Without another word, he repositioned you so you'd be on your hands and knees, running his hand down your back to press the arch of your back a little deeper. He groaned at the sight of you arching your back as deliciously as you could, wiggling your ass as you looked back at him with a cheeky smile, lip trapped between your teeth.

"I've been waiting for this for years, shit. I'm not gonna last."

That made you giggle, continuing to press yourself up against him to get him to break.

"Just fuck me, Channie. Promise it's gonna feel so good."

"Yeah, baby. Gonna fuck you so good."

His tip then finally made contact with your cunt, being dragged up and down your folds as you whined at the feeling. He finally began to penetrate you after becoming too desperate himself.

"You're so fucking warm ..." he breathed out.

Sighing out at the fullness, you pushed back against him, encouraging him to begin fucking into you. Chan took no time in following your lead, adopting a desperate pace almost immediately.

The sounds of skin slapping took over the room, only accompanied by sighs and moans of pleasure from you or Chan. The occasional whiny praise also left his lips every so often. The needy way in which he fucked you had you reeling. Chan had the ability to make you feel extremely desired and like getting to fuck you was the greatest privilege known to man. The way his hands caressed you and his pleas for you to 'please push it back on him' made the experience all the more dreamy to you.

Dream-Chan truly stood no chance to the real one.

"Princess, gonna- fuck, gonna fucking cum. W-where can I?", he grunted from behind, his thrusts somehow becoming even more animalistic.

There was no moment of hesitation in your voice – though shaky from the way in which Chan rutted against you – when you gave him the green light to cum inside you. His groan upon your confirmation only made your back arch even more. Chan's want for you continued to make you feel lightheaded.

Halfway through his own orgasm, Chan triggered your own through the way his hand dipped under you and toyed with your clit. After only one day with you, your best friend already knew how to get you there immediately. He talked you through your orgasm, giving you endless praise about how beautiful you were, how he didn't deserve such a pretty bestie to fuck so good, how he'd beg for you day after day if necessary.

Upon your highs wearing down, Chan managed to reposition you so you could lay next to him. (though almost entirely on top of him) He held you close to him, soft in the way he ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm, enjoying the goosebumps forming. His hand would eventually go over to your face and caress your cheek while his nose rubbed against your own. Treating you like a doll, Chan made you swoon yet again.

"I love you."

Then the world stopped.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it before. It wasn't just a crush. I'm in love with you. And ... and I want you to be mine. Will you be my girlfriend?"

It was all whispered against you, with a soft smile accompanying the whispered words.

"I love you too," the words left your mouth so naturally you were sure they'd been stuck there forever, "Yes, Channie. I'll be your girlfriend," you couldn't help but smile as you said those words.

"Fuck, thank God," he breathed out, hugging you to him, "I never would've gotten over you if you said no. The guys never would've heard the end of it."

He made you laugh, as per usual.

You knew things would only change for the better, so you weren't scared about the change in dynamic that was to come from letting Chan out of the friendzone. All you felt was excitement to finally be with him without guilt.

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content: established relationship, chan's pov, banter, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of lingerie, teasing, dry humping, riding, etc.

wc: 695 (teaser); 1773 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

Chan had waited for this moment for years. The moment he finally had you all to himself and the moment that would start the rest of his life with you.

Sleeping with you last night had somehow surpassed his craziest of dreams – and he had dreamt about it a lot.

The feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you moaned against his mouth as his tongue suckled on yours, the sight of your bare body, the feeling of your hands caressing every inch of his body, the taste of your wet cunt ... fuck. He could go on forever reminiscing about you and how obsessed with your touch he had already become.

It had only been a bit over a day since he had woken up next to you on that couch. Granted, the sleep had been slightly uncomfortable, but he had gotten to feel your warm skin against his own as he slept, so it had been worth it.

After some sheepish reaffirmation of your feelings for one another, you had redressed and left the shared house, pinkies intertwined as you went home. Sadly, you had busy days, so you weren't able to see one another at all throughout the following 24 hours. But! You had agreed to see each other tonight for a quiet dinner at Chan's apartment – courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.

Opening the door to his apartment, Chan's chin practically hit the floor when he spotted you in that dress.

Chan had seen you in all types of getups throughout all his years of knowing you. He had obviously seen you in the prettiest of dresses, the tightest and most sinfully tailored pieces. But nothing compared to the pretty little thing you were currently donning.

It was a black slip dress. It wasn't too tight nor too loose. The fabric barely covered his favorite parts of your body, making him reminisce on how they looked without anything covering them at all. You were also shamelessly donning the few hickeys he had left on you just one day ago. Chan was convinced you'd been sent on this Earth to ruin him, to make him a shell of himself and rid him of any ability to act as a functional human being.

The dinner went quite well. You and Chan were far too used to each other for it to go anything but perfect. Your usual banter was present, though Chan now had the privilege of running his hand up and down any sliver of skin he could reach as you teased him about one thing or another. He enjoyed the innocent touches he could give you without any sense of guilt you might be taken by some loser who didn't deserve you. The right to touch you was now entirely reserved by him, just as it should've always been.

It was all perfectly innocent until it wasn't.

Eventually moving to the couch to entertain yourselves with some streaming service, you cuddled against each other. This was an ordinary occurrence between you even as friends. Sure, the cuddling was now a little extra close – with you practically sitting on his lap – but it wasn't anything too intimate so far.

It seemed like this wasn't enough for you, though. It didn't take you too long to move onto his lap, now sitting on top of him while his arms wrapped around your middle. Chan chose to just follow along with whatever position you wanted to cuddle in, just happy to be there at all. Your hands would play with his own, clearly not attentive to the movie at all.

Innocently at first, you rubbed your own hands up and down his arms. This later came to you leading his hands to rub up and down the expanse of your thighs, coming up high enough to lift up most of your skirt. This then evolved into you dipping one of his hands to rub against your panties.

Chan's eyes rolled back when he felt the warmth of your cunt under his hand, already moist and ready for him. You kept pressing his hand against you, so Chan took the hint to play with you.

...

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