#me the entire case: huh? what? is this allowed? IS THIS ALLOWED? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shemaycry · 3 months

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Girl, I'm into it, I'm into it, I'm into it. RYOMEN SUKUNA

SUMMARY ୨˚̣̣̣୧ periods are shitty, annoying punishments for not getting pregnant. luckily, sukuna is sweet enough to help the pain.

NOTE ୨˚̣̣̣୧ i’m currently on my period & i also find period sex hot asf so there you go. i know a few people don’t like it, so if you are one of them— turn away! this was originally gonna be either noritoshi or choso (blood techniques) but i decided on sukuna 🫶🏾 please excuse typos & grammar mistakes i posted this late!

“Damnit woman, which one is it?”

“Sukuna, I sent a fucking picture for a reason!” You yelled down the phone, eyebrows pinched close as annoyance flooded through your body. Between your lover’s idiotic tendencies and the fact it felt like a hundred soldiers were tap dancing on your uterus— you had little care if your words were rude.

Still, the man gave a sharp watch your tone; before turning the phone to allow you to see the display case of pads.

“Just tell me which one, so I can leave already.”

You sucked your teeth, bringing the phone closer and squinting at the screen. You couldn’t be entirely mad at the man, given he went to the store for you graciously with only a single eye roll. A few of your female friends don’t have the same luck with their partners. But still, what was so hard about looking at the picture you sent— and then grabbing that pack?

A soft huff escaped, “That one.. it’s uh— the purple one. Long with wings.”

You watched as his tatted hand reached for the correct pack, even pushing it into the camera for further confirmation.

“These are huge..”

You felt warmth flood through your cheeks, giving a sharp just buy the damn pads, before ending the call. You tossed your phone to the side, turning to curl up into a ball whilst your arms hugged your stomach. Soft groans escaped you with each cramp, attempting to find a comfortable position to get into.

You tried a heating pad, a hot shower, and even pills to minimize the pain— and yet, it still remained. At the same exact intensity as it was this morning.

Another groan escaped you, body turning to lay on your stomach and your face into your pillow. The softness of your towel grazed your stomach and bare thighs, the only comforting thing at the moment.

Whilst delving in your own misery, the bedroom door opened, revealing your loving boyfriend and the bag of pads.

Sukuna took one look at your helpless state and laughed to himself, tossing the bag to the edge of the bed. “Cramps kicking your ass, huh?”

You could only groan, rolling onto your back and sinking into the bed. You glanced at the man, spotting his back to you as he snatched the black hoodie off his body; revealing his tattooed back. Your eyes then flicked to the ceiling, lids fluttering shut.

“I tried a shower.. pills, everything Kuna. This sucks..”

“Tried an orgasm?”

You gave a soft sound of disapproval. You were aware of the method, the pleasant feeling sure to rid you of your cramps— but the thought of such a mess wasn’t something you were into. Nor did you think Sukuna was in, either.

Until.. a tight lock around your ankle caused your thoughts to cease, gasping as you were suddenly dragged towards the edge of the bed. Your eyes flew open, staring up at the man who was currently situating your legs onto his hips.

“Sukuna, what..”

“You’re gonna keep complaining about the cramps, might as well get rid of them.” Sukuna claimed, acting as if it was the most obvious thing ever. He leaned down, lips finding yours in an instant, a heated kiss being shared between the two of you.

Your hands found his shoulders, sliding across his bare hot skin— groaning the moment his thick, wet muscle intruded your mouth. Naturally your hands were sliding up, fingers curling into his pink tresses for leverage. Despite how good the kiss was, your mind couldn’t shake the nervousness that surrounded you. Having sex on your period just seemed like a mess waiting to happen.

Surely Sukuna would get grossed out, right? But.. he did offer. You were going through the motions, weighing the options, and absentmindly pulling away from the kiss. You hadn’t realized until a sharp voice interrupted your thinking once more.

“Always thinking so damn hard..” Sukuna spoke, pushing his hips forward. The man grinned as your hand fell to his waist, watching you stifle a quiet groan. He began to reach down, gripping your wrist and yanking it up to press against the bed. The glint in his eyes was all too familiar, something that always caused a heat of warmth to spread throughout your body.

Yet, that still wasn’t enough to shake the anxiety.

“Sukuna..” You gasped as the man moved closer, finding your neck to kiss and nip. Your stomach was stirring, arousal pooling between your legs. “— it’s.. a mess, baby. Are you su—?”

“Would I be touching you if I wasn’t sure?” He interrupted, his free hand gliding down the plane of your body. Without hesitation the man was breaching your shorts and panties, spreading your wet folds to rub at your clit. “Keep interrupting me..” Sukuna warned, biting at your throat— causing you to whine.

Your hips rose into the feeling, his two thick digits rubbing tight circles onto your swelling bud. Your arousal was building, surely soiling both his hand and shorts— but neither of you cared in the moment. Instead, Sukuna seemed to chase this; gliding his fingers down to sink into your entrance, easily.

Plunging inside, curling at your spongy walls— your legs were opening wider as the pleasure began to consume your body, dulling your mind. You hadn’t even realized your hand was free until you felt him flip your shirt up and grab your breast. His thumb brushed across your nipple, it hardening under his touch and the cool air.

Sukuna continued to tweak the hardened bud, scissoring his fingers inside of you all while a grin played at his lips. “You were so against it just a second ago, and yet..” His eyes dipped to where his hand currently was, a third finger pushing inside to meet his other two. “— you’re moving your hips so eagerly.”

Your moans were more vocal at this point, pitching into whines each time his fingers curled to press against that special spot. Your stomach clenched with each thrust, feeling a pressure build inside of you. “K—kuna, mm..!” You could barely speak, hand gripping the towel underneath you as you began to fuck your self on his fingers. A difficult task given the position, but one the man definitely encouraged.

“Mm.. that’s it, keep ruining yourself on my fingers, sweetheart.” Sukuna was clearly enjoying this more than you, leaning down to swipe his tongue across your bud just to watch you shiver. You were sensitive, painfully so, that each movement had you trembling as if he had touched you hundred times. His watchful eyes were eating it all, casting an image to save for a later date.

Soon enough the pressure was forming, becoming too much like a bubble ready to burst. Your head leaned back into the bed, lips parted as soft whines escaped. “Su—sukuna, fuck, fuck! I’m close—!” Your back arched the moment his thrusts became more intense, a blinding white passing through your eyes before you came— legs shaking around his form.

Sukuna’s fingers slowed but didn’t stop, mixing up your fluids and throughly fucking you through your high. The man ignored your sensitive whines until he was satisfied, pulling his fingers out soon after. Your lover was unfazed by the red mess staining his tattooed appendage, simply wiping it against the towel underneath. “Made such a mess..”

“Don’t make make fun of me, Sukuna. That was embarrassing enough.”

Your boyfriend grinned, fingers hooking onto your shorts and panties to slowly tug down. “Embarrassing? I wouldn’t know, given how much you were moaning just a minute ago.” The cackle he released was downright maniacal, tossing your clothes to the side whilst going for his own.

Your body was hot, cheeks puffed as you attempted to glare at him. “Whateve—er..” Your words dragged the moment his cock began to tap against your clit, the man gliding it along your slit carefully.

“You say something?” Sukuna mocked, a hand reaching to your thigh and pushing you up farther onto the bed. He continued to glide himself between your folds, watching your stomach tense each time his tip made contact with your sensitive bud.

The anticipation was welling inside your stomach, fingers gripping the towel as you rose to grind against him— gasping the moment he began to enter you. Sukuna fed you inch by inch slowly, pushing deep into you whilst the reddened arousal was tainted his cock. The thought of doing this.. was gross, weird, and something you definitely wouldn’t do.

But now? While in the act. The only thing you could think about was how good he was stretching you; filling you up so easily and then some. Your legs were shaking around him, his name falling for your lips in a honeyed gasp as you slowly became adjusted.

Sukuna leaned over your body, a hand falling to your throat to direct you; forcing eye contact. “Don’t go dumb yet, I just started.” He grinned, rising you up a bit to snatch your lips in a deep kiss— while pulling his hips back at the same time.

The first thrust was always so deep and harsh, making your legs bounce and your thoughts go slack. Within a minute, Sukuna started a bruising pace inside; fucking you deep into the mattress all while kissing you so sweetly. The differences were making your head spin, unable to focus on a complete feeling before the other fought to take over.

You breathed heavily into his mouth, struggling to keep up with his tongue all while his length fucked into you. His hand suddenly fell from your neck down to your thigh, gripping it tightly and pushing it up.

The raise position caused your head to fall back into the bed, moans escaping you freely as your trembling hand suddenly fell to his waist. “Sh—shit.. Kuna, hah..! Feels so good, fuck—!”

Your cries were music to his ears, even enjoying the way your pretty manicured fingers dragged across his lower stomach with each thrust.

Sukuna leaned even closer, using his body weight to fold you like some damn chair. The stretch in your muscles washed away with each slam into your messy cunt, your walls clinging to him as a desperate pressure formed in your stomach. Your words were jumbling together, moans broken as tears welled in your eyes.

The man grinned at the display, cock twitching in your wet sex with each thrust. “Can’t even fucking think, can you? Should have fucked you dumb like this earlier..” Sukuna claimed, a hand falling between the two of you to press against your stomach. He felt himself inside you, his ego swelling more and more.

You were so close now, back arching up off the bed as your legs trembled. The band inside you was growing thinner and thinner, desperate moans escaping your lips.

And yet, Sukuna stopped suddenly— right when you were about to hit your peak. You felt the disappointment crash down on you in an instant, glaring up at the man with glossy eyes.

“Su—sukuna, why would you do that?!” You whined, feeling your irritation grow when you noticed the grin on his face.

Instead of replying, however, Sukuna leaned up from his previous position; your legs falling to his hips. In one swift movement he was switching you onto your stomach, hooking his arms under your legs to bring you to your knees.

Before you could think he was sinking back inside of you, hand sliding to your back to arch you even further. This position left you far too vulnerable, the man fucking you into the mattress with no way to move away or escape.

Your face was mushed against the wet towel and sheets, crumbling them within your hands as desperate, pleasurable cries escaped you. He was stirring with up inside, hips slamming against your ass and causing your body to shake.

Sukuna’s hands laid a bruising grip on your hips, eyes focused on your body. He was entranced by it; the recoil of your ass, the way a creamy ring was forming around the base of his dick, and the way you not so subtly tried to move away from the thrusts.

“Oh, is it too much, brat? You want me to slow down don’t you?..” Like he would. You and him both knew that wasn’t going to happen. The knowledge solidifying the moment his hand rose to grab a nice handful of your braids, gently tugging to get you onto your hands.

“..Messy fucking pussy— don’t try to run, take this dick.”

You cried out as his free hand suddenly slammed against your cheek, the stinging pain shooting right between your legs; increasing your arousal. Your walls were clinging to him, clenching each time his tip brushed against that perfect spot inside you.

The man suddenly released your hand, your body falling to the bed as he continued to fuck into you. Sukuna’s large hands fell to your cheeks, separating them for the perfect look. “Mm.. shouldn’t neglect this hole either.” Your lover suddenly dragged in a soft tone, one you nearly didn’t catch. Until his thumb was suddenly sliding against your puckered hole, pushing in carefully.

The sudden intrusion caused your body to lunge, shaking as whines escaped you. His free hand massaged your ass as if to soothe you, continuing to push it in until he reach the knuckle.

The foreign sensation took a moment, tight entrance clenching around the digit. But the moment you relaxed, a new found pleasure washing over you; your arousal increasing, and dripping all down his cock.

“Sukuna.. fuck! Please, please, please—!” You were pleading so loudly now, tears trickling down your cheeks, as you rutted back against him; pushing your ass into his lower stomach.

Sukuna grinned at this, leaning over your body; hitting your deep all while mocking your moans right in your ear. “Clenchin’ me so damn much, fucking close aren’t you? Bet you wanted this even more then I did, such a damn freak..” His words came out in a soft hiss, slamming himself deep as his cock twitched, his own climax quickly approaching.

You gripped the sheets, back arched into his hot body as broken babbles of his name escaped. Within minutes you were cumming, making a complete mess on both him and underneath you.

Yet his hips never stopped, the intensity never dulling despite your body going slack against the bed. You whined as the sensitivity began to grow, fisting the blankets for leverage.

“Fu—fuck, Sukuna— I can’t..”

“You can.. was being so fucking good for me, don’t stop now.” Sukuna groaned, fingers digging into you as his thrusts became desperate. “Milkin my dick, shit— want me to fill you up, don’t you? Maybe even put a baby in this pretty fucking stomach, so you won’t have to worry about cramps.”

The thought caused your head to spin, unable to say a word and instead nodding repeatedly. Sukuna chuckled at this for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed, pushing himself deep before releasing inside.

Heavy pants covered the room as you came down from your highs, a sharp groan escaping you as he removed both his thumb and length from within you. Your hips lowered to the bed, cheek brushing against the blankets.

As your legs moved, the sticky feeling between them caused you to cringe— tilting to glance at the man.

“Sukuna..”

He grinned a little at you, hand smoothing across your back. “Yeah, yeah.. I’ll help you clean up.”

comments & reblogs are appreciated

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leupagus · 3 months

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Guys I Might Have Three Nickels

I've been watching "Agatha Christie's Marple" for the past few days and it's pretty good! Marple adaptations all tend to have a better caliber of actors than a lot of bog-standard mystery shows (looking at you, "Madame Blanc"), and while Joan Hickson's Marple is right up there with David Suchet's Poirot and Jeremy Brett's Holmes as "literally can never be beaten, these are the best anyone's done it," both Geraldine McEwan and Julia McKenzie do a fantastic job as Miss Marple.

Then I got to "The Secret of Chimneys," Season 5 episode 2

and guys

Guys

So there's a murder of a viscount, like there is, and this detective Finch rolls up and immediately spots Miss Marple (in her NIGHTIE! standing at the window like some kind of hussy, honestly Jane) and doffs his cap to her with that little smile that makes you go, "huh."

At this point I've watched a couple dozen Miss Marple episodes where she goes through detectives like wildfire and this guy's supposed to be a "*guru*" so I'm expecting some battle of the egos or something and like, Stephen Dillane is great! But bleh, I might have to skip this one.

Then my dude asks Miss Marple to SHOW HIM THE BODY, with a pleased little smile at her as she goes "uhhhhhhhh but my knitting?" (He even does that thing where you use someone's honorific and wait for them to give you their name, and that's when I was like "ohhh this bitch knows exactly who she is.") What follows is what I can only describe as a meet-cute in the secret passageway where the viscount was shot (and in fact the body is STILL THERE) and where Miss Marple literally asks the police equivalent of "is there a Mrs Finch" and he looks at her like this:

At which point I'm like "ohhh my dude not only knows who she is, he deliberately came here without a sergeant so he could draft her," and sure enough he just starts...handing her pieces of evidence like "hey babe can you decipher this note for me thanks love you" while Miss Marple is like, "this approval and camaraderie coming from a cop... not sure if want."

Next is a series of romantic strolls through the gardens while they discuss murder, during which Finch reveals his undying love I mean his research into Miss Marple and the "dozen case files" of her previous exploits that he's collected like some deranged fanboy. Miss Marple responds to this by BLUSHING LIKE A SCHOOLGIRL and stammering about how pish tosh it's nothing really, and I couldn't find a gif of it but he's staring at her like this:

Yeah I bet u r tempted

He also makes a half-hearted attempt at negging her "amateur sleuth" status, only to then immediately assure her that he makes like, so much money being a big fancy detective and can keep her in all the yarn and garden seed she could ever desire.

There's also a late-night tryst at the compost pile right after Finch has been (mildly) poisoned and Miss Marple is like "men are so weak" as she roots through the garbage for clues.

Not how he wanted their first date to go D:

The next morning there's another murder which: bummer, but also allows the two of them to read love letters together and for Finch to give Miss Marple the following look as she explains how secret assignations among lovers can "quicken the ardor":

Miss Marple then goes onto solve the murders and btw hands over the priceless diamond that's been literally missing for two literal decades that she found in her spare time. The entire scene features Finch looking at her like this:

After the dust settles, Finch and Miss Marple have a lovely moment where he calls himself "another one of your casualties," then super casually mentions that he's probably going to have to go on assignment to use the diamond in a daring international espionage case and I can't decide if he's asking Miss Marple to go with him or simply trying to show her that he is cool and smart and would make an excellent wife, but either way the episode ends with her turning him down and Jane, we need to talk about your priorities.

Anyway I've already written 2K about the subsequent 10-year epistolary romance these two have following this episode because I make poor choices.

#agatha christie's marple #miss marple #julia mckenzie #stephen dillane #special thanks to introvertedpedant for their exceptional gifs #anyway yeah I fully did the 'haha what if I jokingly shipped them' and then 30 minutes later was like 'oh no'#miss marple rhymes with parple #seriously though what's the explanation for these choice #other than dillane reading through the script and saying to mckenzie #'ok so I'm gonna play him like SO SO down bad for you is that cool'#and mckenzie saying 'you jump I jump jack'

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show-your-fangs · 9 months

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omg omg omg can I pls request hotch genuinely being the most clueless, dumb-and-in-love individual?

Basically the team has to point it out to him for him to see how soft he is for reader and how differently he treats them 💗😩 he’s in love, your honour 🤭

i love our stupid man in love, he's so cute i can't.

this is part two of this blurb from my moments au

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 1.7k

CW: nothing, just fluff.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

He didn’t ask you out that night. Neither Morgan or Rossi won the bet, the unfortunate draw making them only want to try harder to win over the other.

That had been a week ago, the pool only growing as more agents got in on it and it had somehow gotten out of hand really quickly. Penelope had been tasked with keeping track of the bets, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her mouth shut about it, especially when she was around you.

The team had left for a case earlier in the week which meant you were spending a lot of time with her. From helping with research, running point from the office, making calls and setting up permits, warrants, everything and anything they needed, you were practically tied at the hip as per usual when the team was away. The only problem? Penelope Garcia could not keep a secret to save her life, and the more time she spent with you, the more she almost slipped and told you what was going on.

You had closed the case earlier that night after five days of grueling work. You were exhausted, more so emotionally than physically, so you’d invited Penelope to dinner as way to celebrate the little victory. But what had started as a simple night out had quickly turned wild as the waiter had taken a liking to her and kept the cocktails coming throughout your entire meal. You were on dessert, a forgettable chocolate lava cake with ice cream when she finally slipped.

“I just think it’s so silly,” she giggled in between sips of her drink and scoops of dessert.

“What’s silly?” you egged her on, whatever this secret was had eluded you for the entire week and you just needed to know.

“How much Hotch likes you,” her cheeks flushed pink but her brain didn’t realize what’d she’d admitted to yet, allowing her to continue. “The team has a bet going on when he’s going to ask you out and everything.”

“Huh,” you mused. “That is silly.”

That’s when her brain snapped, dread and realization washing over her all at once. Her eyes widened, her spoon fell from her hand and onto the plate.

“Oh my gosh, do you not like Hotch back? I could’ve sworn— I am mortified! Forget I told you, please I am begging you—”

You reached over and placed your hand over hers, gently soothing her out of her panic as a mischievous smile curled on your lips.

“Can you get me on the board, Pen?”

Apparently they were all convinced it wasn’t happening for a while. They had decided to overcorrect their previous assumptions, placing bets that were days if not weeks in the future. Penelope had added you to the bet list that same night, promising to keep the secret until the next morning.

You knew the clock was ticking, knew that once you started the countdown, you had no business losing your courage. It was now or never, and the reminder that soon the rest of the team would be shuffling into the bullpen to start their day, that they’d know someone else had made a risky bet — it only got your adrenaline pumping even more.

You poured his coffee as you watched him enter the office, gaze on his phone, powerful and confident strides leading him towards his office. He turned and waved from the top of the stairs once he finally noticed you, a small smile on his lips. You smiled back, your cheeks reddening slightly as you finished getting your own coffee in order, the pale tan a contrast to his straight black.

You made your way to his office a minute after he’d settled, placing his cup on his desk and taking a seat across from him. This had been your routine for months now, you’d bring him his coffee in the morning and the two of you would fill each other in on your lives.

Aaron had been dealing with his divorce, the guilt of having to split Jack’s time between him and his mom, the added stress of finding a new place and moving, of finding himself alone when he’d been used to always having someone to come home to after a tough case. And you? You had just started going to therapy after he’d encouraged you to. It had been a rocky adjustment to the job, and you were glad that you could confide in him as your boss but also as your friend.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling out the case files he’d taken back home the night before.

You shot him a look, the look, and he couldn’t help but sigh deeply. You weren’t angry, you were simply disappointed, and he knew that. It had been hard, harder now that he had to force himself back out there if he wanted to actually have a life. But even after months of this new normal, the idea of dating made him even more exhausted than he’d like to admit.

Because while Morgan or Emily thrived meeting new people, Aaron had met Haley in high school. He’d been with one woman his entire life, one woman for more than twenty years. He was rusty to say the least, the insecurity of it only growing the more he refused to take the leap, the more he refused to feel his feelings, the more he fell in love with you.

“Haley had Jack last night—” he started but you were quick to interrupt him.

“That’s a terrible excuse,” you chided. “There’s a million things you could’ve done instead.”

“Oh yeah?” the mischief was back in his eyes, making you gulp visibly. “What did you do last night?”

Your mouth opened in mock annoyance, he couldn’t possibly know—

“For your information, sir,” you mocked. “I went out with Penelope last night.”

Whatever glimmer of hope Aaron had cultivated to tease you about taking work back home was extinguished in a second. He sat back in his chair, inaudibly admitting defeat.

“Maybe that’s what you need too,” you started, your heart racing once more. His eyebrows shot up and you could tell his blood had also gotten to his head. “Ask someone out, go on a date, get laid.”

That caught him off guard completely. If he had been sipping on his coffee he would’ve choked, made an even bigger fool of himself. But instead his cheeks just reddened, his ears quickly following suit, a detail he knew you knew about him as you’d pointed it out many times in the past.

But you didn’t today, you didn’t say anything about his reaction but he was too hot to notice it right away.

“It’s what I have to do too, honestly,” you shrugged, faux confidence somehow allowing you to not combust right then and there.

“Do you now?” he managed through gritted teeth, the idea of you dating something that he made sure never to think about because it always led him down a dark path of rage and an ungodly desire to ravage you to the point where you belonged to him and no one else.

“Yeah,” you drawled on, almost sighing dramatically. That’s when he caught on, when his brain finally reconnected to his body and his heart only sped up even more. “But I don’t know…I’m not really into any of the guys Penelope or Emily have tried to set me up with, they’re not really my type.”

God, this was not actually happening. “What is your type?”

“Crime fighting single dads who adore their kids and participate in triathlons for fun,” there was no misinterpreting it now.

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” the words flew out of his mouth before either of you could register them.

A bright smile took over your lips, your eyes sparkling with happiness. A shy smile slowly started to turn adorably embarrassed on his, his gaze tentatively raising to meet yours, eyebrows raised almost pleading, his eyes round and hopeful.

“I would love to,” you said and he graced you with the most beautiful full smile you’d ever seen from him. It was unrestricted, genuine, life giving.

“Great,” he cleared his throat as the clock struck eight, the reality of the world outside of your little office bubble a reminder of where you were. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Can’t wait,” you reassured him, standing up with your own untouched coffee mug and making your way downstairs. “Oh, and it’s my treat. Trust me.”

You were gone before he could argue, but you knew that he couldn’t stop smiling, the warmth radiating from him was enough for you know it deep in your bones.

“Babygirl,” Morgan asked aloud, holding up the list of bets that Penelope had left on his desk earlier as the blonde returned to the bullpen from her office. “What’s this?”

He tapped on the bet you’d written down, the other agents gathering to inspect the new addition.

“Proof of my victory, Derek,” you said cockily as Penelope handed you the envelope full of cash.

The entire team turned to you, eyes wide and anger slowly boiling. But none of them let it out, instead they all looked impressed, they respected the move, the hustle, the boldness. Morgan scoffed in proud defeat as he held out his fist for you to bump, and you did, excitedly.

It had finally happened, the start of something that had been brewing for months, and you couldn’t be happier. While the girls walked up to you to get all the details you shot Aaron a cheeky glance as Penelope filled Emily and JJ in on your conversation the night before, and for the first time ever, Aaron allowed himself to meet your glance, unashamed to be caught staring at you.

i've been smiling like an idiot all day

taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer, @mrs-ssa-hotch

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch x you #hotch x reader #show your fangs writes #moments on ao3 #show your fangs hotch blurbs #show your fangs moments au

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chuuyrr · 4 months

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GORGEOUS — NAKAHARA CHUUYA

⊹ CW(s): f! reader, famous! singer! reader, strangers to lovers, crushing (you fall first but he falls harder), heavy references to taylor swift and her reputation album, 3.9k words

⊹ SYNOPSIS: in which you write your crush a song, and he finds out

inspired by: gorgeous by taylor swift !

applause and cheers flood your ears as you stand before the stage, a smile on your red-painted lips, albeit a little breathless as you bring the microphone to your lips, ready to deliver your speech and express thanks for the award bestowed upon you.

what began as a passion for music and songwriting has grown into stardom, as evidenced by the best female musician award you were now receiving on stage, surrounded by other artists in the business and, most importantly, your fans.

just as you were ready to begin when another music artist, much older than you, interrupted you. you stood there perplexed, but then the much older and taller artist grins at you, almost darkly and mockingly.

"yo, [name]!" he exclaims into your microphone, stealing as he addresses you with such familiarity, "i'm really happy for you. i'mma let you finish, but, she has won the best video award of all times!" he exclaims, gesturing at the other female music artist sitting on the sides, but she looks just as perplexed as you.

"one of the best videos of all time, i tell you!" he says into the microphone again, facing the crowd as if rubbing salt in your open wound, then shoveling the microphone back to you as if nothing happened.

in any case, the sudden interruption of the said male performer stunned the entire stage and audience. as you move about the stage, you find yourself uncomfortably laughing and unsure what to do.

the audience suddenly begins to yell "boos!" instead of clapping and cheers, and your hands shake so much that you nearly drop the trophy in your grasp. the shame seeps deep into your flesh, and the fact that cameras were flashing everywhere and this awarding was also being done live didn't help.

you couldn't find your voice, and the stage appears to be tilting as your eyesight blurs.

your great moment, your glory, vanished in an instant.

your reputation.

as you hold the glass in your hand, you sigh and tap the rim before giving it a quick, delicate spin, allowing the ice to clink against the glass before you drink the burgundy liquid, letting the addictive yet mild taste of fermented grapes strike your tongue and throat.

you twirl the glass in your palm one more as you recall the incident that occurred during your awarding. you recall the dazzling lights of cameras, the gasps and shouts from the audience, and what's more, that very artist who humiliated even stated that you owed him something sensual for making you famous.

a smile tugs at your lips as you shake your head and look at the music playing in the pub. it served as a gentle reminder that this was your current situation.

even if you remember it like it was yesterday, it has been a while since then. customers at the bar are singing along to the fairly spiteful yet powerful tune and lyrics of your song, enjoying the piano and beat.

"but i got smarter, i got harder in the nick of time. honey, i rose up from the dead, i do it all the time. i got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined—i check it once, then i check it twice, oh!" the crowd of the bar sings, jumping up and about with their drinks in hand.

"look what you made do! look what you just made me do!" they continue to sing the lyrics, some even dancing to the choreography while others were just cheering and such.

your little revenge song appears to have polarized music critics, with some praising your new direction and hailing it as a fierce comeback, while others were disappointed with your change of style from your usual romance-esque and heartbreak songs to a dark electroclash and dance-pop, as well as the hidden message that underpins it.

"huh, that was a nice build-up to a crescendo build in the pre-chorus from the sparse verses," a voice next to you comments.

you blink, your eyes widening and your heart trembling slightly.

shit. did you got recognized already?

you slowly turn your head, and there stands a red-brunet with his hair framing his face and a black fedora on top of his head. he's dressed in a white button-up shirt underneath a gray vest, a black choker, a black ribbon bolo tie kept together with a little silver clasp, an open black cropped jacket with sleeves pulled up at the elbows, black slacks, a black belt dropping off his right hip, and black low-arch shoes.

you can feel your heart pounding. this man appears to be a big deal, possibly like you? was he a music critic, perhaps? you thought you heard him say something about your song, “look what you made me do”, playing in the background, but you couldn't be sure.

but there was something oddly appealing about this man, and you found yourself glancing at his face rather than his suit, and…

ba.. dump..

you feel the blood rush into your cheeks and your heart skip a beat when you notice he has beautiful blue eyes that remind you of the ocean.

your gaze ultimately settles on the creases of his face, from his brows to his nose and all the way to his lips. he is so gorgeous that you find it difficult to swallow the lump growing in your throat, your words becoming tangled in your tangle of thoughts and feelings.

for a brief moment, you've forgotten what you were drinking and thinking about because he—this stranger—has taken over everything in your mind.

when he finally turns to you, allowing you to be face-to-face with him as he sits on the cushioned stool next to you, you shift in your seat, becoming nervous once more.

"are you okay?" he says, and you notice him watching at you carefully, but with some concern, as he notices your flushed cheeks and how you appeared to be a little shaken in your seat.

"wha—?" you murmur out, blinking in confusion.

he blinks back before narrowing his eyes slightly, a look of uncertainty on his face, yet the way he does it is igniting feelings inside your chest right now.

"i asked if you were okay. is everything okay, miss?" he asks again, and this time a chuckle escapes his lips.

"o-oh, yeah. i’m fine, no worries," you exhale, a sheepish smile on your face as you manage a brief fit of laughter. you were still in awe of this man.

you assumed he was a music critic or a businessman wanting to interview you or get you into a deal for collaborations, but from the way he speaks and addresses you, he appears to be neither.

what's more unexpected is that he doesn't seem to even recognize you.

you were already expecting him to start bombarding you the instant he laid eyes on you and sat next to you, but it was something you didn't mind at all. it was a strange feeling for you, yet it was reassuring in some ways.

being famous always meant having eyes and cameras trained on you at all times, which you acknowledge was a touch stifling. you couldn't really blame yourself because you've made quite a name and reputation for yourself with the songs you've composed since you were a child.

you gently sit back, more calm now that he doesn't appear to recognize you, and order another glass of wine from the bartender, who kindly pours you some from the bottle.

"hey, is that a pinot noir?" you hear him speak again, commenting on the beverage you got.

you turn back to face him, "yeah, it is. why?"

"that's a great wine to have by itself," he explains, chuckling softly.

"you seem to know a lot about wine," you smile at him before taking a sip of your drink, welcoming the taste of the wine in your taste buds once more.

"and you seem to have a good eye," he says, smiling. at least, that's how you perceive it. the sort that you'd see from your fans, not the ones that reminded you of bad music critiques and certain people in your life.

he turns to the bartender to order himself a drink, which you see sends a little surprise from the bartender as you hear the bartender fumbling over when he orders a wine called petrus, oblivious of how ridiculously pricey it was.

"you have a problem with me ordering petrus? hah?" he asks, arching his brow at the bartender, and you find yourself giggling at the sound of his tone.

something about the way he spoke when he was agitated, the subtle growl in his voice, was sending you.

"oi, what's so funny?" huffs the red-brunet, staring at you with a little but not necessarily mean glare.

"nothing," you remark between laughter as you sipped your pinot noir, "you just sound like a cute but angry puppy."

"EXCUSE ME?!"

maybe you did drink a little too much that night.

the next thing you know, you're seeing the same man you saw about a week before, and strangely enough, you discovered him in the club doing who knows what.

it was bizarre, truly, but you felt drawn to this man you had no known about. you didn't even know his name when you met him in the bar, so you did what any normal person would have done.

you simply stay far from the crowd admist the blasting lights and music in the dimly lit room because you don't dare to approach him, but little did you know, he was here for a reason, and one thing he wasn't expecting was to see you again the moment he does.

"you again?" he asks as he purposely bumps into you when he walks across the crowd.

"i think i should be saying that to you, mister fancyhat," you say back with a smile tugging on your lips.

his eyes widen a bit at the nickname and for a second he scoffs, "the hell?"

"well, you never gave me your name," you playfully roll your eyes at his reaction, giggling and immediately saying, "i mean it though. your hat is pretty fancy."

"well, thanks," he shrugs his shoulders before asking, "so, would you like a drink?"

"you bet i do," you smile softly with a wink. how could you not accept this man's offer?

"well then," he says, a small grin tugging on his lips, "how does whisky on ice sound this time?”

"sounds good," you remark, shrugging your shoulders, but what he says next takes you by surprise.

"but do me a favor and get behind me real quick, sweetheart," he urges sternly, forcing you to move instinctively to do what he says.

small gasps fill the club at the unexpected ruckus, some even afraid by the red-brunet's sudden cruelty to this stranger, but all settles down when he states that the guy was snapping pictures of you without your permission.

for some reason, even though he was yelling and threatening the paparazzi, the manner he protected and guarded you from them was not alarming to you. it even made your heart skip a beat for some strange reason.

you never imagined that stranger you met could be that interesting. he definitely had a reputation, possibly as big as yours, if not bigger—and you were enamored like a schoolgirl with a big crush.

could he possibly be a spy? or even a mafioso? the possibilities were endless. you had no idea what it could be, but it gave you a rush of thrill and excitement. he was so cool.

"hey, um," you manage to say, blinking out of your sight as chuuya scoffs at the person taking pictures without your permission—you didn't know how to explain to him that the guy he had just nearly beaten up was your paparazzi, but you were grateful.

"what? you okay? that guy was following you, ever since i saw you in here, actually," chuuya adds, pulling you by the wrist to take you somewhere secure in the club, unaware that he was also there for another reason involving his line of work.

"yeah, i'm fine," you admit with a sheepish smile, "more than fine, actually. let's just drink.”

chuuya sighs and scoffs a little, but smiles at you, "just try not to get drunk and make fun of me like last time, okay?"

you can't help but quietly giggle as you recall getting drunk on your wine the last time you met in person at the pub. to be honest, the growl of his voice and the way he says his r's as he becomes irritated at the bartender's answer to his request for a petrus tickles your brain in a hilarious manner.

"i'll try not to then, but no promises~"

"you better not damn it."

from the moment you met chuuya a spark ignited in your very heart. as you spent more time together in secret, the ember grew into a flame, fueled by shared laughter and late-night conversations.

it was in those moments that you discovered the layers beneath chuuya's tough exterior, the vulnerabilities that made him undeniably human.

one evening, inspired by the depth of your emotions, you found yourself sitting with a guitar in hand, fingers strumming gently. the lyrics flowed like a river. each word echoed with sincerity, a testament to the connection you had forged. you wove a tapestry of emotions into the song, from the subtle nuances of his laughter to the way his eyes held the oceans of stories.

lyrics always came to you naturally the minute you felt inspired to write a song, but this time was different.

instead of simply focusing on your reputation, past painful experiences, those who had wronged you, and even past lovers who now serve only as heartbreak and lessons, this time it was all about him.

you found the sweet whisperings of love gently tugging at the strings of you heart. as you navigated the complexities of your emotions, you stumble upon a connection that felt like destiny—a love story in the making.

with pen in hand and heart wide open, you pour your emotions onto the blank pages, each word a declaration of the feelings blossoming within. the verses were a canvas painted with shared moments, laughter echoing in the lyrics, and the subtle nuances of chuuya's essence woven into the melody.

as the melody and chords resonated with the rhythm of your emotions, you realize that in writing a love song for chuuya, you were not just creating another song; you were navigating the path to love once more.

and each lyric became a stepping stone, leading you towards a renewed understanding of affection and the beauty of opening one's heart to another, and it was a celebration of the love that had rekindled within you after everything.

late into the night, you penned the final verses, pouring my feelings onto paper. the melody became a vessel for the unspoken, a silent confession wrapped in the chords of a heartfelt song of bubblegum pop.

it was a labor of love mirroring the evolution of your feelings for chuuya, and as the last notes faded away, you knew you had given voice to the emotions that had taken root in your heart.

chuuya was in his office at the port mafia headquarters, having completed his report for the boss.

he was merely looking out his office window with a glass of wine in hand, a neutral and albeit weary expression on his face, letting out a tired sigh as the radio playing from his desk said the following words just before a new song came on,

"here we have next is a new single from the one and only, [surname] [name], entitled gorgeous!"

chuuya's eyes widen as he hears your very name on the radio. he may have only recently learned your name, but he remembers it vividly, as the song begins.

there was no doubt that was you and your voice singing on the radio, and this song doesn't simply tell about someone who is in love with a new love interest in a promiscuous manner in an attempt to attract the attention of a prospective lover.

“ocean blue eyes, looking in mine. i feel like i might sink and drown and die—you're so gorgeous! i can't say anything to your face.”

chuuya stands in stunned silence as the melody filled the atmosphere when the bridge comes in. the song was a heartfelt composition, capturing every nuance of his personality and the shared moments between you two.

“you make me so happy, it turns back to sad, there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have. you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad. you make me so happy, it turns back to sad. there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have and, guess i'll just stumble on home to my cats alone.. unless you wanna come along?”

the drum beats, synthesizers, and the gentle cadence of your voice resonated with emotion filled the air. it took chuuya a moment to register that the words were meant for him, a love letter crafted in the form of a song.

as more of the lyrics unfolded, he felt the weight of your affection settle in his chest, each note a testament to the depth of your feelings. it was a revelation that left him breathless, realizing that someone had taken the time to compose a symphony of emotions just for him.

the lyrics danced between vulnerability and strength, capturing the essence of your connection. in that moment, chuuya understood the magnitude of your love, and a warmth enveloped him.

chuuya feels his face grow hot, only because of he was too oblivious for a mafioso to not recognize you, to not realize he had been speaking to a famous artist like you out in the open just like that, thinking you were just some beautiful girl in the bar and club he'd go to. no, you were more than that.

and now, going back to it, it makes sense as to why he would constantly find people trying to take pictures of you, as to why you would seem quite tense at times, or even why you would keep staring at him.

"fuck," chuuya curses to himself, "oh, fuck."

the final chords of the song lingered in the air, not long after, and without hesitation, he reached for his phone, fingers tapping with urgency as he dialed your number.

the phone rang, each tone echoing his anticipation. when you answered, he could hear the warmth in your voice, a familiar timbre that matched the melody he had just experienced.

"was that... you?" he asks, his voice a mixture of awe and genuine curiosity.

there was silence for a moment, before you answer, "so you heard it on the radio." you says softly in the call.

as you confirmed it was indeed your creation, chuuya couldn't help but smile, a rare and genuine expression breaking across his face. the connection between you two deepened with every word, the song serving as a bridge that brought your emotions to the forefront.

in that moment, over the phone lines, chuuya felt a profound connection, grateful for the beautiful revelation you had shared with him.

the warmth in his voice betrayed a mix of emotions as he spoke, "it was... incredible. you wrote that for me, sweetheart?"

there was a brief pause, filled only by the static hum of the phone line, before he continued, "i never knew. i... i don't know what to say, but i had to hear your voice, to tell you that it meant everything."

a playful chuckle escaped your lips as you tease him, "took you long enough to connect the dots, didn't it? turns out you've been with a famous artist all along." there was even a lighthearted tone to your words, a mixture of amusement and affection.

chuuya's response was a hearty laugh on the other end, a sound that resonated with genuine delight.

"well, i guess i’m not the fastest at catching on," he admits, the hint of self-awareness in his voice. but then, a sincerity washed over his words as he continued, "but damn, you just made me fall harder for you, sweetheart."

the exchange of laughter and genuine emotions continued, bridging the gap between the revelation of your identity and the newfound depth of your connection. the melody of your shared feelings played on, a harmony that echoed between two hearts that had finally found each other.

excitement radiated through the phone as chuuya declares, "enough of phone calls, i need to see you right now."

there was now a newfound sense of urgency in his voice, a genuine desire to bridge the physical distance that remained between you two at this moment, "where are you right now?"

you share your location without any hesitation, without waiting for another response, he swiftly made his way.

as chuuya reaches the familiar spot, his eyes scanned the surroundings eagerly, searching for the person behind the melody that had woven its way into his heart.

and then, there you were, standing under the soft glow of a streetlamp, a smile playing on your lips as you locked eyes with chuuya.

the world seemed to fade away as he closed the distance between you, the anticipation building with each step. without a word, chuuya pulls you into a tight embrace, savoring the reality of your presence after the emotional journey of hearing your song on the radio in his office.

in that moment, the bustling world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a shared understanding and newfound depth of affection.

chuuya whispers in your ear, "i needed to see you, to feel this. no more hiding behind melodies and phone calls, damn it. just you and me, together."

his arms held you in a comforting embrace as the world around you embraced the quietude of the night. the streetlamp cast a gentle glow on both of you, and the soft hum of the city formed a distant backdrop to the shared moment.

breaking the silence, chuuya gazes into your eyes, a mixture of gratitude and genuine emotion reflected in his intense gaze. "i can't believe i've been so blind to what was right in front of me. how could i have not known who you were, and that song.."

you smile softly, a tender acknowledgment of the connection that had finally blossomed between you two, "i meant every word, chuuya. you have no idea how much i want you."

he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch a gentle reassurance. "well, i'm done letting things slip through my fingers. i want this, with you," his breathy words hung in the air, carrying the weight of a promise.

and so, beneath the canvas of the night sky, chuuya's lips met yours in a gentle, yet fervent kiss. it was a collision of emotions, a fusion of longing and realization.

as you melt into the kiss, the embrace held a promise of a beginning, a tender affirmation that echoed louder than any song you've written before, and the melody of your hearts played the sweetest tune, and the night whispered secrets of a love that had finally found its voice.

⊹ a.n.: thank god my finals is finally over because i finally got to finish writing this !! *literally cries* i also think i went all out for this one too because it ended up reaching 3.9k words, which is crazy. oh, and to the anon that requested this, i hope you enjoyed reading this one, in fact, all of you who made it this far—i love you and thanks for reading (honestly felt like i wrote a bit too much for this fic but oh well lol) <3

#chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya nakahara x you #bsd x y/n #bsd imagines #bsd oneshot #bsd fluff #bsd fanfic #bsd chuuya #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya x fem!reader

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impala-dreamer · 1 month

Text

His Doll

A Supernatural Story

~Dean comes back from a hunt in a mood and Y/N is the only thing that will help him relax.~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

2,256 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Dom!Dean. Master/slave Play. Collared!Reader. Face Fucking. Objectification. Roleplay (kinda...) Fluff.

This is an oldie from Patreon. So many many more like it are there waiting to be read... by you ;)

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

"I’ll be home in an hour. Be ready."

That's all he had said when he called.

The boys had been out on the road for more than two weeks, and time away from Y/N had given Dean plenty of ideas. Some were sweet, gentle, but others were more devious, dark. The case had given him more than a few headaches, so he clutched the steering wheel and pushed his boot down to the floorboards, gunning for home as he dreamt of what he was about to do to her.

Sam knew better than to attempt any small talk when he saw Dean’s knuckles blanch around the leather wheel; kept his mouth shut even though the Impala was breaking the sound barrier rushing down the highway.

It had been a rough few weeks.

Awash with anticipation, Y/N took her place, waiting as instructed, ready for him. She kept her head bowed, her knees slightly apart, shoulders back. Clad in Dean’s favorite white lingerie, her skin glowed against the lace; gleaming with prickles of sweat and goosebumps as she imagined all the things in store for her.

The old carpet offered little cushion beneath her knees, but she stayed there, trying to still her racing heart as she counted the seconds in her head.

Any moment, he’d be home.

Her cheeks flushed.

His hard command over the phone played in her head on a loop; he was in a mood.

Her nipples hardened.

Her teeth dug hard into her bottom lip as she started to sway, imagining his hands on her tits, his lips on her throat. The collar around her neck was tight and she swallowed against it, reminding herself that Dean was taking full charge, that she was going to give in and let him have whatever he needed, whatever he wanted.

She shivered.

Boots echoed through the hallway and Y/N lifted her eyes as they appeared in the open doorway. Not allowed to raise her head, the boots were all that she could see. Caked in layers of dried mud and more than a few splashes of blood, they lingered over the threshold and Y/N held her breath.

“Perfect.” Dean’s voice was rough and heavy, and Y/N’s heart raced.

The boots moved, stepping slowly into the bedroom. She watched the door slide shut behind them as they came close, stopping just inches from her knees.

“All dolled up for me, huh?”

Too excited to think, Y/N nodded and smiled, lifting her face to his. “Yes, baby.”

His amusement was gone, replaced with a stern grimace that hardened his features.

Dean lunged at her, grabbing her throat and lifting her upwards. She scrambled to find her footing, legs tingling with numbness as she stood before him. He hooked a finger through the metal hoop on her collar and tugged. “When you wear this, you call me Master. You understand me?” His tone was as raw and frazed as his nerves and Y/N’s knees buckled.

“Y-yes, Master! Sorry.”

Apology accepted, Dean let his eyes wander down her face and body as he held her up. Her eyes and lips were painted in dark black and red, respectively, lashes coated again and again in heavy mascara that made them pop as if they were painted on. Her tits were smashed and bound, pushed up high by the white bra; perfect and round and waiting for his touch. The collar was his favorite part tonight, and Dean let his finger drop, tugging her entire body downwards, then back up.

“Such a beautiful doll for me,” he said, voice drifting to an even, deep tone that set her body on edge. “Perfectly made up and ready.”

She exhaled slowly. “Yes, Master.”

His left hand moved quickly, jabbing between her thighs. She gasped and Dean threatened her with a look: no words.

She swallowed down a curse and held her breath as a thick finger snaked inside of her panties and traced her pussy lips slowly.

“You are ready,” he whispered, licking his lip teasingly. “I’m glad.” He yanked the collar upwards and her head fell back, exposing her throat to him completely.

“A-always ready.”

“Yes,” he agreed firmly, “you are.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Like a perfect little fuckdoll. Lubed up and ready to be used.” His lips curled around his words and she felt herself go slack.

Her legs went weak but the collar kept her upright, startling her back into her own mind as the leather dug into her neck.

Dean smirked, his eyes darkening with every breath she let go. He pulled downwards on the metal ring. “On your knees.”

Y/N dropped without hesitation; her knees slammed into the carpet, jarring every inch of her.

Dean stepped back and kicked his boots off, watching carefully as she fell into place, waiting with drooling lips and a heaving chest. He popped open his belt, worked the leather from the brass and yanked it free of his jeans with a swift jerk of his wrist.

Y/N held her breath.

“Been such a long coupla weeks,” he said, speaking out loud but not to her. “Crap motels, long drives.”

The belt fell next to her left knee. She bit her lip, shivering inside.

“Case was fucked from the start,” he went on, slowly opening his jeans and sliding the zipper down. “Nothing went right, Sam was being a needy fuck.”

Denim fell in a stiff pool around his socked feet and Y/N swallowed a moan as gray cotton briefs followed.

“Worst of all…” Green flannel billowed to the floor. “I had no alone time.” He stepped out of his clothes and moved closer to Y/N, her eyes locked on his muscular calves. Black cotton floated into her vision, ripped carelessly from his chest. “No time to pump one out…”

Her cunt pulsed, closing around nothing.

“Look at me.”

Her eyes lifted and Dean clenched his teeth as he fisted his cock, slowly dragging his hand down from root to tip. Instinctively, she opened her mouth and her tongue rested on her bottom lip, wet and shining, ready for him.

Dean clicked his tongue. “Good girl.” He rolled his hips forward and placed the head of his cock on her waiting tongue. “Eyes on me,” he commanded. “My little fuckdoll.”

Y/N let her mind drift and set her gaze on his pure green eyes. He pushed between her teeth and her mouth clamped shut, sealing around his thick shaft and sucking gently.

Dean bit his lip and slid the ring of his fingers down to the base of his cock, pinching tightly as Y/N’s mouth tightened around him. She bobbed her head, but Dean stopped her.

“No. Don’t move.” She sat back on her knees, his cock falling from her lips with a line of spit. “You can’t move,” he told her, eyes sparkling with dominant imagination. “You’re a fuckdoll, remember?”

A wave of pleasure and obedience washed over her and Y/N’s eyes glazed over. She settled back on her heels and dropped her hands to her thighs. Eyes wide and locked on his, she opened her mouth into a perfect circle and Dean hummed in approval.

“Perfect.”

She held still and let Dean do the work, slipping himself back onto her tongue. The drag was slow and heavy, the sweaty tang of him delicious. Y/N lost herself in the push and pull of him; the quickening pace, the deep moans of pleasure that issued from his plump lips. In and out, jerking faster and harder with every pass.

Dean’s eyes closed as he savored the stillness, the wet heat of her pliant mouth. “So fucking good,” he praised, pushing in as deep as he dared. Her eyes bulged as he hit the back of her throat, but Y/N did not move, did not make a sound. He inched in deeper and her breath stopped. She swallowed around him, aching to move. Dean stopped his movements, kept his cock there on her tongue, pressing hard down into her throat, daring her.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

Dean’s eyes narrowed.

Her shoulders twitched uncontrollably.

Dean pulled out and Y/N coughed hard, gasping for air. She bent over, hands hitting the floor as she tried to calm herself, but Dean was impatient. He grabbed her collar and tugged, dragging her down onto all fours.

“That was amazing,” he said, bending to whisper in her ear, “but I wasn’t finished.”

A giant hand curled in her hair and Y/N’s neck was jerked backwards, her face a blank mask staring up at Dean. He let her hair go and stepped in front of her, bending his knees to reach her lips. Cock in hand, he twisted his hips and slapped her across the cheek with it; the hard thud sent an unusual jolt of pleasure to her cunt and she clenched.

“So obedient.” Another slap across the other cheek. “Just an empty fuckdoll.” Her eyes rolled back as her pussy leaked with arousal. “Open up.” Her tongue fell from her lips and Dean dropped his cock flat over it. He pumped his hips slowly, sliding it across her hot tongue. Wetness collected in her mouth and spilled free, trickling down the corners of her lips and onto her chin; droplets landed on her tits, shining and perfect. “So good.” He pulled away, stepping back to look her over. “Don’t move.”

She remained frozen. Wet tits hanging, palms and knees digging into the carpet, eyes up, tongue dropped.

Dean relished the sight, storing it away forever. Slowly, he rolled his fist over the head of his erection; watching, jerking, enjoying the control.

“Strip and get on the bed,” he said, suddenly breaking through the silence.

Y/N climbed to her feet and hurried to peel the lingerie away and toss it aside. She crawled onto the mattress slowly, letting him have a good look at the wetness that soaked her panties as she moved.

“On your back. Legs up.”

She obeyed, rolling onto her back in the center of the bed. She set her hands at her sides and opened her legs, picking her feet up, bent at the knees. She was folded like a Barbie doll, stiff joints and vacant eyes.

Dean grinned and joined her on the mattress.

“Such a beautiful toy.” He grunted and reached through her legs to slap her tits, watching as they moved naturally at his touch. He hit her again and held his breath, waiting for a scream, a cry, a moan that never came.

Y/N remained as quiet as a mouse, as still as a mannequin.

“Excellent.”

He was pleased, but his voice gave her nothing but chills; so deep, dark, firm. It flooded her mind with submissive desire, made her skin tingle and her pussy drip. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.

Dean dropped half a smile as he grabbed his dick and ran it slowly through her slick folds. Sucking in his bottom lip, he moaned loudly while pushing inside, ready to cum, to fuck her roughly to sleep.

“Perfect and empty.” He bottomed out, pushing so deep inside of her that Y/N thought he would break something. “Silent and frozen.” His balls hit her ass as he pulled out and thrust back in, perfectly angled, expertly aimed. “My gorgeous little fuckdoll.”

Y/N held her breath, trying to be as perfect for him as he wanted, trying to hide all the pleasure behind a blank stare and plastic-like limbs. He felt so good inside of her after so long away, stretching her cunt with a burn that mellowed into a dull throbbing ache. Her blood was screaming, heart racing, mind amuck of unholy words that she refused to let loose.

Dean quickened his pace and her eyes widened a bit too far, her jaw dropped just a millimeter too far. He licked his lip and leaned over her, once more grabbing the loop on her collar. Her eyes flashed to his.

“Cum.”

One word broke her entire universe. It echoed around in her skull, rushed through her veins, tightened every muscle, and pushed right out of her cunt. The orgasm exploded through her like a ball of light and Y/N screamed, her fists balling over the blanket, heels locking around Dean’s trim waist as he plunged deeper and deeper. She convulsed around him, her cunt tightly drawing him back in while shoving him out. Wetness flushed from her hole, coating him, running down his thighs onto the sheets below.

“That’s it...fuck!”

He came inside of her, body stilling and stiffening up like a board and then spasming; his eyes rolled to white and his chiseled jaw trembled.

Dean huffed out a cry and fell down, wasted and sated, into her arms.

Y/N scooped him up as best she could, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and keeping him safe.

He kissed her chest, lingering over her heart before pushing upwards and taking her lips. He hummed into her, breathing his thanks, his love.

“Welcome home,” she whispered, tracing the shadow of his cheek with her fingertips.

Dean smiled and reached around to unlock her collar, stopping halfway to kiss her forehead. “Missed you.”

Y/N exhaled slowly and breathed in deep, relaxing her body and mind as he rolled to settle beside her. “I missed you too, Dean,” she replied, dropping a hand to cover his tattoo. “So, so much.”

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@akshi8278 @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #18+#one shot

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kindestegg · 1 year

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The plush under Collector's bed: A totally necessary analysis, trust me

So, as a recap of this scene, before King leaves to visit Eda and Lilith, Collector asks King if he could sleep with François that night.

King reminds Collector that only himself and Luz can hold François, and Collector obliges but asks that he at least leave François there to "watch over him", claiming he "doesn't like being alone".

King does so, and Collector seems satisfied. It's very telling of Collector's development that they never touch François after this interaction, showing respect for King's boundaries.

... Except! This sweet little angel is actually a master trickster! A liar and a fiend!

He had a plush under his bed the whole time!!! In fact I'm pretty sure every shot of their little bedroom planet has the underside of Collector's bed obscured UNTIL King starts to leave and we pan to see the beds from an angle which reveals the plush!

You know what this means, right? Collector could have easily pulled his plush from under his bed and cuddled up with that if he hated sleeping alone so much, but he didn't. Why?

Well, I don't think he was lying about being lonely. Loneliness seems to be a prominent common theme for Collector, both declaring his loneliness back at the start of O' Titan, during a vulnerable moment where he didn't expect anyone to hear him, so he'd have no reason to lie there...

And then also having this acknowledged by King in the current episode, who has been living with him for about two months now, so he would know Collector's state of mind better than most here.

So... what gives? Was Collector really only out to force King to give François to him? Why?

Well, my current theory about this is what François means in this scenario: a connection to King. We know François is very important to King and King does not hide this when he expresses to Collector how he won't let them hold him.

To Collector, being able to sleep with François is the ultimate foolproof way to ensure King won't leave them. First, if King eventually lets them hold him, it signifies King would trust them enough with this and hold them to a regard as high as Luz, which we know Collector seems to be jealous of. I... just realized I should probably analyze that too, huh. Well, all in its due time.

And second, even if King won't allow them to hold François, but leaves them close to Collector in their room, that already acts as a guarantee. A guarantee that King will come back for François eventually, that King won't leave them to sleep alone the entire night.

Whatever the case, François is a symbol, a meter to test their closeness for Collector and King, and considering how many times Collector has lost people they considered friends before (whether those were real friends - in the case of the titan babies - or not - in the other collectors and Belos' case -) and have been double crossed by Belos, it's no wonder they have trust issues and want to make sure King does care about keeping them company.

So... that's it, then? He probably threw his original plush under the bed and then lied to King he lost it and is now constantly trying to get King to let him either hold François or at least keep him close to him as a connection between him and King?

Well... yeah, but if you'd allow me, I'd also like to talk a little on the symbology of the plush here. You see, while we can't make out the full of what the plush looks like, it appears to be some sort of canine with pointed ears and a poofy tail. Maybe it could be a titan, even a plush replica of King, but... I don't think so. There seems to be no stitching around the neck to signify it has a skull like titans do.

See, I think this is a fox plush. And why it is important in a metatextual sense that it is a fox requires a look into lots of different possibilities, each enriching the narrative in a different way.

For one, in popular folklore, foxes are seen as tricksters, lying and cheating their way into what's most convenient for them. Villain or hero, the fox is always winning people over through tricks.

This would align with the very nature of the plush being thrown under Collector's bed: it calls back to the fact he's tricking King with this. And yes, while Collector does have his problem with "fibbers", I don't think he's above more harmless tricks, we've seen him joke around with King before, purposefully feigning ignorance to mess with him, and the very nature of how he splattered Belos was through him lying that he wasn't mad. He may dislike it when a major lie is told, but little lies and sarcasm are no stranger to him.

Another possible connotation is the fact that rabbits and foxes are naturally prey and predator. François is a rabbit, Collector's plush is a fox. King, the member of the species that was hunted by the collectors, holds the prey animal, while Collector holds the predator animal...

The position of the plushes is also important here if we go with this interpretation: François is on top of King's bed, indicating he does not conceal he is the prey here and is well aware of this. He says so as much: "this whole time I was scared of making him mad". In general he behaves like a scared animal around Collector, despite their efforts to put them in equal grounds and the fact they have spent so long together and made considerable progress in their friendship.

Collector's fox on the other hand is under their bed, signifying Collector has concealed their fox, or maybe more appropriately, buried and left the fox behind. They may be part of the species that wiped out all the titans, the predators that so mercilessly hunted King's species as prey, but they want no part in this. Their backstory seems to involve wanting to play with titans and denouncing the other collectors after all, likely being bitter at them for ruining everything and hunting their new playmates to near extinction.

Alternative readings also include a few possible pop culture references. A possible one is the prominent role of the Fox in the Little Prince. While Hunter is the one who has been nicknamed "little prince" by Darius, Collector still seems more thematically similar to the character, being a child who came from space:

The similarity also hands itself to the fact King does somewhat resemble a fox with his canine qualities and fluffy tail, and in the story, the Fox was one of the first friends the Little Prince makes on Earth, and the one to teach him how to approach someone who does not trust you yet, to "tame" them.

Yet another possible reference this could be is the Disney movie "The Fox and the Hound":

Which seems like something I should frankly make a whole separate post comparing the eerie similarities it harbors to the current dynamic Collector and King hold. But to summarize, if you don't know the movie, it follows a hunting dog pup and a fox pup that become friends at a young age, and their friendship must overcome advertisities unique to their species.

If this is a reference to this particular movie, this once again has a different reading: Collector is clearly the hunting dog here, not the fox. For him to keep a fox under his bed would signify he wants to keep King close to him, safe under his bed and protected. This could even be a call back to the very last scene the titular fox and hound in the movie share: Copper, the hound, positions himself above the fallen Todd, the fox, protecting him. The plush being under the bed to mirror this would make sense.

Whew! I think that's everything that I had in mind to comment on this particular tiny easter egg. Whatever meaning you take from this about Collector's mysterious plush, I hope I could at least inspire something in you!

#the owl house #the collector #toh collector #king clawthorne #toh theory #toh analysis #toh spoilers #Commander's orders

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dmercer91 · 2 months

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pretty girl, me94

in which mark has a little bit of an unwarranted jealousy problem you help him get over. (18+!!)

part of the sophomores best girl mini series! also set in last season, a couple days after mackie's fic (2.6k)

she’s long awaited, she’s hot, and she’s not proofread!! (typical). i hope she lived up to the excitement, i love you all, i need to pack and i need to go tf to sleep

jealousmarkjealousmarkjealousmarkjealousmarksdhsjdhsdjdh

to the public you were mark's. it made the most sense- he'd probably be around until his graduation, at which point the arrangement you had with the sophomore's would probably be over- but it would still prevent people begging the question of why you hadn't followed any of the other's to their respective draft cities despite the lack of any 'breakup'

he was touchier with you than the rest, as well. so being his 'girlfriend' had allowed for that to translate well when the group of you were out, for him to stay mindless about his fingers twirling the ends of your hair and his palm having a home on your thigh.

to top it all off- it was so embarrassingly evident that, although he liked sharing you in general, sometimes his mind went to places it shouldn't, and sometimes sharing was the last thing he wanted when it came to you.

so at a party where you and mackie had been stuck to one another like glue, partnering in beer pong, sharing a cup when nobody was paying attention, passing fleeting touches once everybody was too far gone to notice, mark could only sulk.

the biggest downside of being your so called boyfriend was that, no matter how badly he wanted to leave, it would look a little wrong for him to ditch his love at a frat house with absolutely no warning.

so he pulled you aside, your giggles stinging a little as you fell into his chest, looking up at him in the dim lighting like he was something of a god, whisking you to heaven, or, in this case, the entrance hallway of the most trashed building possibly ever

"it's time to go home now, baby," he murmured, wrapping you in his jacket, knowing you refused to bring any warm one, arguing it ruined your outfit.

you pouted, clutching the hem of his shirt and trying to pull him back to where some of the hockey team had stationed themselves

"but i'm having fun, marky," your genuine displeasure at his words had his jaw ticking, shaking his head at you.

"is that how this works now? you bossin' me around, baby?" he tilted his head and the look in his eyes made your mouth water. you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, shook your head and watched in real time as his face got more laxed, his body getting closer to yours.

he gave you a lazy grin, pressing a kiss to your lips and leading you out the door.

"we're gonna go home n' you're gonna be good, yeah?" he whispered, earning a nod as you tried to lean in for more kisses. he hummed, accepting the gesture but quickly pulling back to get you onto the sidewalk and towards the house.

you pawed at his arm, an attempt to get his attention back on you. he quickly eyed you before deciding to lean into his jealousy, see if you caught on and see what you'd do about it.

"look who's just gettin' all the attention from anyone who'll spare it tonight, huh?" you blushed, shaking your head timidly

you stepped in front of him so he’d stop walking, only for him to lift you into his arms and continue on without a thought

you giggled, tucking your face into his neck. "just want your attention, marky," you gave him a sultry look, watching as his tongue poked the bottom of his cheek in frustrated contemplation

"don't seem to want any of me when mackie's around," he stated, feeling your nails scratch at his bicep absentmindedly.

now that you thought about it, you were starting a little bit of a pattern. you'd be caught up in marks lap, giggling at everything he said and being the perfect, attentive girlfriend. then, mackie would come into a conversation and you'd be entirely distracted.

the first time, his food had come to the door and you never bothered to come back to mark after bringing it upstairs. tonight, he asked for you to partner him in games and you spent the whole night looking at mackie the way mark felt he deserved instead.

"then you're always runnin' around the house in luke's clothes, snuggling up with him on movie nights, sleeping in his bed," he continued, despite your lips on his jaw and neck, nipping at his skin

luke always preferred softer affection from you to cheer him up unless he was particularly angry- which meant him dragging you into his lap and hugging onto you, giving you his clothes so they'd smell like your perfume and having you fall asleep on his chest.

"best of all, ethan's been taking you out to lunch dates when you're meant to be my girl, not his," he walked through the front door just as you were about to explain to him that he seemed afraid to be affectionate with you other than to sleep with you or touch you, and that's why you kept getting whisked away.

the other boys had found a nice middle ground of relief and relationship, and you never denied any of them what they'd asked of you- mark had been stuck on relief, and always seemed to try and catch you when the rest had already whisked you away.

"m' not tryin' to pick favourites, i promise, marky. wanna have a thing with you, too. i don't know what you'd like, though," he grumbled, like your explanation hadn't quite met his standards for an excuse

"right now?" he dropped you on his bed, peeled his shirt off. "i'd like to fuck you,"

you giggled, pulling him down on top of you and tugging at his hair, kissing him and letting him tug your shorts off. his hands slid down your waist and hips to find your panties, only to feel that you'd gone without.

he groaned into your mouth and you smiled. one hand abandoning his hair to scratch down his back.

he moved off you, earning a needy whine and your arms reaching out at him. he smirked, sitting at the edge of his bed and nodding for you to come over to him while he ditched his pants and boxers

your response was to start kneeling in front of him, only for him to shake his head. "on my lap, pretty baby," he gripped your waist, pulling you onto his thigh, pressed tight to his chest.

"think m' gonna make you work for it," he smiled, looking in front of you at the full length mirror, watching as you stared at the two of you. you licked your lips slightly, watching the way he was holding you.

"what?" you murmured, finally looking into his eyes, a little distracted by his hands and the way you looked.

he chuckled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

"said i'm gonna make you work for it, baby." his hands moved to your hips, teasing for a second before he lifted you forward and then dragged you back, bare cunt dragging on the muscle of his thigh and making your legs clench together

he gave you an expectant look through the mirror, watching with a smirk as you slowly rocked forward, a shaky whine spilling from your lips when his leg tensed under you

your hand planted on his other leg, nails digging into his skin as you rocked yourself as well as you could manage, a sticky mess building on his leg from your arousal

"the boys and i.. we talk about you, you know?.." he trailed, leaving kisses on your shoulder while you moaned at the though of them talking about the things they'd all done with you.

"and none of them can shut up about how well you respond.. when they tell you how good you are for them," your core pulsed, hips stuttering in your pace.

you weren't quite sure where he was going with his rant, which side of the coin he'd choose.

"is that true, pretty girl? you like it when they pretend you're this perfect angel, like you're not the prettiest little slut for us?" your eyes fluttered closed, and reopened to look into his own.

both. he was choosing both sides of the coin.

"mark, mark-" your grip on his leg tightened and he hummed, serving as a repetition to his question and not an acknowledgement of how close you were, nor your whimpers of his name.

"answer me," he murmured, bringing a hand in front of you and making light circles over your clit.

"m' a good girl. good for you, always. s' not- ah, not pretend" you breathed out, leaning your head back on his chest and looking up at him from there, rather than in the mirror

"please," you gasped, and you didn't even know yourself whether you were pleading with him to confirm you were good for him, or just to let you cum. though, one would probably result in the other.

"oh, look at you.. you do like it, don't you?" he teased, and you nodded obediently, peering up at him with all the hope you could muster.

though apparently your hope was for nothing, cause he moved his fingers away from your clit and grabbed your hips roughly, stopping your movement and effectively pressing pause on any stimulation you'd been feeling.

"no, no- was so close," you whispered, tears collecting at your waterline and both of your hands trying to pry marks off your body so you could go back to fucking yourself on him.

"shhh, pretty baby. m' gonna take my hands away and you're gonna sit nice and still, yeah? don't be a fucking brat, now," his voice was low and stern, your core throbbing against him and earning a chuckle

he hummed in satisfaction when you halted your attempts at forcing his hand, and you watched patiently as his forearm slayed over your stomach and he lifted your whole body with a one handed grip on your waist.

using his other hand, he aligned himself under you, pulling you down onto his cock and dropping you so that he immediately bottomed out.

you squealed, squeezing him so hard that he grunted and pried your thighs apart, slapping the inside of one hard enough for you to come back to yourself and try and relax your pelvis.

you gulped when you finally got used to the sudden intrusion, eyes fluttering shut and hips rocking gently.

he gripped your jaw, eyes jolting open as he forced you to look into the mirror in front of you.

"i told you to sit still" he barked, and you were smart enough to will away every aching desire to squirm.

since the last time you'd acknowledged yourself, you found that the lust drunk bliss on your face had increased tenfold and that you were now dripping down your thighs and onto marks, despite the two no longer rubbing against one another.

you also found that mark was staring, as well. drinking in every inch of exposed skin and massaging at your thighs when his eyes spent far too long focused between them, eyeing the way he was pressed into you and how stuffed you looked.

his arm made it's way back over your stomach, fingers gently grazing the imprint he was leaving on your stomach on their way across to your waist.

his voice was deep and crisp in your ear when he started to fuck up into you, one hand pulling you up, slamming you back down, and the other placing your thighs over his knees so they'd stay spread while he moved to paw at your tits, pinch your nipples.

"have you ever let any of us come inside?" and he sounded so calm that it hurt your head, confusion and fear melting together into a look that you gave him through the glass of his mirror.

".. s' against the rules," was all you said, shaky and wanting so desperately to grip onto him but wanting to be well behaved far more, so choosing to stay as he put you.

"that's not what i asked, pretty baby. i asked if you've let anyone," his fingers stopped messing with your nipple, instead his whole palm enveloped your left breast and the lines of his hand soaked in the scattered beat of your heart.

"no," you whispered, and it couldn't have been a more evident lie even if he hadn't felt the skip in the rhythm beating through your chest. he slammed up into you particularly roughly and you struggled not to scream, your eyes fluttering and tears dripping down your cheeks.

"no?" he asked again, his condescending tone ringing in your ears. if only you'd known he knew before his question even fell from his lips, you would've apologized rather than lying.

"so.. what was it, that you were begging mack to do the other night? promisin' him you wouldn't tell, saying you'd been so good," he tilted his head, the hand over your heart sneaking up around your throat, keeping your head straight so you'd look him in the eye.

"nothin'.. nothing, mark, i swear. just know he likes me talking, beggin'.. wanted to be good t' him," you cried, and he let out a dry chuckle.

"good girls don't lie.. n' i thought that's all you wanted, was for me to validate that little fantasy in your head where you're obedient, and sweet, and the best girl, and then.. you lie to me? m' starting to think the boys are liars, too. tellin' me you're this angel baby.." he trailed off, tutting breathily.

"if you're a good girl, you'll make it up to me, right, pretty baby?" he asked, coming up with his very own resolution for the problem he'd stuck you in.

"i'll- m' gonna make it up to you, swear it," your lead lolled back onto his shoulder from how dazed you were and he quickly perched your head right back up.

"gonna let me come inside? need to- i need it. need to know what it feels like to fill you up, baby," he squeezed your throat a little, your walls clenching around him and your eyes flickering between open and closed. you'd never been so loud, so twitchy for him and he was loving every last second.

you nodded, almost frantically, staring at where you and mark connected in the mirror while he hummed in satisfaction and gave you one last, rough thrust, leaking into you and dropping his hand from your neck, squeezing every inch of skin he could reach and moaning gently in your ear.

"there's a good girl. prettiest fucking whore f' me," he murmured, smiling blissfully when your legs made their way over his knees, clamping together while your walls pulsated around him.

you squeezed your eyes shut hard and clawed at his arm, shaking against his chest and moans spilling violently from red, swollen lips.

you heaved in his arms, chest rising and falling prominently while he used light circles on your clit to bring you down from an intense orgasm.

his hands slid to your hips, ready to pull you off him and you whined in retaliation, turning to nestle your face into his chest.

he smirked, keeping you taught to himself while he laid back, keeping you in top of him and petting your hair out of your face.

"mh. was always so annoying you never wanted cuddles, so warm, big," you babbled, clinging on tighter.

"always wanted cuddles, pretty baby. didn't know how to ask for 'em."

"kay, well. you're an idiot," he raised an eyebrow, adjusting his hips and earning an oversensitive whine

"watch yourself"

#e’s fics #e goes a little feral #best girl mini series !#mark estapa #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #fINALLY MAN #sry im slow thank you for waiting on me

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runningfrom2am · 3 months

Text

empty threats // LTPF

summary: you get in trouble at school, and don't want to go home just yet.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. they're just little in this one :'), so no real warnings. besides r being a little violent and threatening, but what's new lol. non-descript mentions and implications of abuse.

a/n: hi! thought i'd post this before s2 of cold nights bc,,, i'm not ready to let this series go just yet lol. this was (kind of) requested a couple of times so i do intend to write another thing ab them before the series! maybe p2 to 'the finer things in life'? lmk

(also would y'all call me crazy if i said this was based on something i actually did in middle school? yes? okay in that case that was a joke. thanks.)

series masterlist // playlist

You were having a bad day. A bad week. Bad month. The academy had not been treating you well this year- nothing really was. But school especially was kicking your ass.

You did well, consistently. A's, A+'s, and it was only at the small cost of your sanity. You hardly slept anymore- which is part of the reason your father started allowing you to wear makeup at the beginning of the year. To hide how dark the circles under your eyes were- how pale you were getting from lack of sunlight and exercise, and the bruises that happened to be visible on warmer days where you weren't required to wear your blazer.

You hadn't slept in a week, you were sure. It was hard to tell. Days and nights blurred together; you were effectively a zombie at fourteen. Even you knew that wasn't right.

"Y/N/N." You didn't realize you were falling asleep leaning on your palm, elbow pressed uncomfortably against the surface of the desk.

"Huh?" You blink rapidly, looking over to the source of your name.

"You okay?" Coryo chuckles quietly, looking you over as he almost always did.

"Never been better." You sigh, shaking your head to refocus yourself on writing the notes on the board.

"You sure about that? I'm not exactly inclined to believe you."

"Yes." You nod, having to lean to the side to even see the board. You didn't notice when Arachne finished her notes and stood right in your line of sight to talk to Livia, who was sitting in front of you.

Yes, your teacher had allowed you to discuss upcoming assignments when you were finished copying down the paragraphs on the board, but that didn't mean Arachne should block your view.

"Arachne." You say, waving for her to move when she looks down at you.

"Have you no manners?" She asks, tilting her head at you.

"Move. Please." You really don't have the patience to argue.

"No thank you, I'm alright here." She smiles, sickly sweet, before promptly returning to her conversation.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in before slowly letting it out through your nose. "I'm trying to write, and your massive head is blocking the entire board. Move, now."

Coryo snickers beside you, his notes already long done as he sits back to watch.

"We're trying to have a conversation. Some of us have lives outside of school, you know." Arachne digs her grave deeper, crossing her arms as she stares down at you.

You grip your pen in your hand so tight you're afraid it might break.

"Don't." Coryo says to you, reaching out to grab your shoulder in an effort to calm you. He knew this look on you; you looked like you were about to detonate.

You ignore him, trying to look past her again, but she takes a sidestep to the left intentionally blocking your view now. Back and forth, whichever way you lean she's conveniently moving to be right in your line of sight. You try to listen to Coryo and not cause a scene, you really do, but your patience was deteriorating by the second.

"Arachne, I swear to god I will hit you so hard with this book if you don't get out of my way that you'll have worse memory loss than usual. Move."

"Y/N/N, here, let's just switch. You can see just fine from-" Your friend suggests, already standing up to move and open his seat to you.

"Oh, is that so?" The girl laughs at you. "It's not like these notes will ever matter to you. You probably don't even know what that-"

Within a second you're standing, grabbing the textbook from your desk and swinging it at her.

It hits the side of her head with a loud crack that has her stumbling back. Other students are laughing, you can hear it, but only echoes as you breathe heavily.

You smile as she clutches the side of her head, stumbling down into her empty seat. "Thank you." You nod, moving to sit back down and resume taking your notes. Suddenly, you're feeling much more awake; refreshed at being able to channel your frustration into something physical.

Coryo stares at you, almost in shock. Almost, because Arachne should have known that coming from you, there was no such thing as an empty threat.

"Miss Y/L/N!" Your teachers voice bellows as Arachne starts to cry.

God, she's such a baby.

You aren't given the chance to defend yourself before Coryo is speaking up for you. "Sorry, Sir. She's just had a tough week." You shoot him a look and you can see the panic in his eyes, wracking his mind for a way to excuse your violence in a forgivable manner. "I'll take her down to the office." He's helping you up out of your seat before grabbing your books and your bag for you.

Your teacher clearly doesn't have the energy to get into it with you today so he nods, waving for the two of you to go.

"It's just, you know, lady problems." Coryo says as you pass the teacher on his way over to Arachne, who now has Livia fanning her face with a book as if that would help.

"Just, get her out of here." Your teacher says again.

"Of course you would know- just get your insane girlfriend away from me. I can't look at her anymore." Arachne whines, still clutching the side of her head.

You grit your teeth and jam your elbow into your friends ribs at the unnecessary comment right as you exit the doorway.

"Ow!" He winces, looking back to make sure no one saw. "I helped you!"

"I am not on my period, Coriolanus." You hiss, glaring up at him as he walks beside you. "You're such a pig."

"How am I supposed to know! I just know you assaulted Arachne and that's a hard act to excuse. I tried my best."

"You're lucky I'm not. If I was I'd gut you like a fish right now." You grumble, pulling your bag from his shoulder and giving him a shove back.

"I'll count myself lucky then." He chuckles. He never took anything mean you say to him too personally or too seriously. Your threats only ever seemed to be empty when they were directed at him.

"Coryo! Y/N/N! Wait!" You turn and cross your arms as you wait for Sejanus who's speed walking down the hall to catch up.

"Oh, you're late to the party." You grin, raising an eyebrow at him.

"He sent me to escort you guys, didn't want you to sneak off before actually going to the office." He explains as the three of you continue down the hall.

You groan, rolling your eyes. "Ugh, him too?"

"Gross." Coryo mutters.

"Excuse you, that was rude!" You laugh, bumping your shoulder against his arm. You didn't notice when he started to get taller than you, it seemingly happened overnight.

"And I stand by it." He replies, shaking his head at you as you gasp in mock offense.

"I'm wounded, Coryo. Truly."

"Yeah, you guys are never beating those allegations. Sorry." Sejanus laughs.

"True, but it would be nice if he didn't act like i'm repulsive all the time."

"I do not act like you're repulsive!"

"You guys argue like an old married couple. It's cute."

You don't know what prompted you to walk here. Anxiety, maybe, after the receptionist at the office was instructed by Dean Highbottom to call your father this afternoon while you were in the office.

You stand outside the entrance to Coryo's apartment building, pacing in your academy uniform. You stop, staring at the call panel.

"Level 12 Penthouse: Snow"

You chew your lip, looking down at your watch. It was almost five, you wasted time sitting in after school detention staring at the wall. Just press it. You didn't walk all this way just to go home anyways. Press it.

The buzzer is ringing out of the speaker before you can overthink it.

"Uh, hello?" His voice is crackly on the other end, hardly even audible if you weren't panicking over who would answer.

"Coryo, it's me. Can I come in?"

"Uh, hold on. I'll come down." His voice cuts out and you wait for the buzzer that signifies the door is unlocked, but it doesn't come.

You try the handle anyway, but it remains locked. You groan, peeking in for the first time through the large glass windows that made up the entrance to the lobby.

It was a damn mess in there. Garbage bags everywhere, it looked like the floors or the walls hadn't been cleaned in years. Why on earth was there no maintenance in his building? You knew he had a driver, a chef, maids to clean his own apartment, or so he said. Would it be so hard to have the building cleaned every week?

It's a good few minutes before you see your friend open the doors to the stairs, and looking over at the elevator while he walks up to the door you see there's a maintenance sign on it. That was broken, too. Your brow furrows as he walks up to the glass door, shoving it open.

"Y/N... What are you doing here?" He asks, and you give him a once over. He's still wearing his academy uniform, just like you, but without the skirt that drapes around his legs. The buttons are partially undone and buttoned unevenly.

"I, uh..." You start, giving a slight shake of your head. "Why are you still in your uniform?"

"I haven't had the chance to change.." He lies, eyeing you quizzically. He definitely won't be telling you that his only casual clothes are noticeably too small on him, ankles showing in the only pyjama pants he owns so he had to throw this back on in a rush. Usually, he just sleeps in his boxers and only leaves the house in dress clothes. "What's going on?" He asks, changing the subject.

You take a deep, shaky breath and shake your head. "I... was just hoping you'd want to hangout." You smile, but it's not convincing enough for him.

"Oh, uh, I'm a little busy right now..." He glances back inside.

"Of course. Yes. I'm sorry." You nod, slightly disappointed.

"But, I mean, it's just homework. If you have your stuff we could work on it together." He suggests, sensing your discomfort.

"Came straight from school!" You grin, patting your bag where it hangs at your waist.

"Uh, okay..." He chuckles a bit, checking the time on his watch before reaching past you to buzz his own apartment.

You wait for a moment before another voice rings out.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Coryo, did you lock yourself out again?" His cousin sighs.

"Again?" You gasp, covering your mouth as you laugh quietly at him.

His cheeks flush. "No, I didn't. I was hoping you could bring my school bag down to me, Y/N and I are going to hers to work on homework."

Your smile fades as he volunteers your home. The reason you came was because you didn't want to go back there. Not yet.

"I'll be right down!"

You hear the click of it disconnecting and he smiles at you. "Just give her a minute."

"We can't- Uh..." How to word this without sounding weird. "My brother has friends over, I think. They're always super loud so that's why I came here..."

"Oh, okay. Well..." He looks back inside again. "We can find somewhere else to go. My grandma'am is sleeping, that's all."

You're both lying to each others faces and neither of you knew.

"Sounds good." You nod. "My brother and his friends are just like, so annoying. I wish they would just get together and like... read or something..." You laugh nervously, rubbing your arm.

"I get it." He hums and you laugh.

"As if, Coryo, you are that younger brother."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not."

"This is exactly how my little brother fights with me so..."

"Except I don't have siblings. So that's impossible."

"Yes you do."

"No, I don't."

"You do!" You laugh. "You realize the genetic components have like... nothing to do with that, right? Tigris is effectively your sister. You live together, for christs sake. Besides, I know I'm right because of... everything." You gesture to him vaguely and he glares at you.

"That's why we get along so well." You smile sweetly at him. "I'm a big sister. I know exactly how to handle little brothers. And you're used to having a big sister around, so you tolerate me."

"Tigris is not my sister, and you are nothing like her."

You playfully roll your eyes. "I wouldn't know. But I would bet money that we have more in common than you know."

"Definitely not." He protests, shaking his head as Tigris steps out of the stairwell with his book bag in hand. She smiles and waves at you as she comes up to the door, opening it to hand it out to him.

"Thank you." He nods, and she turns to you, blocking the door from closing as she stands there.

"Y/N, how are you?" She smiles, holding her housecoat around herself. It had been a long time since you'd seen her- she left the academy before you were old enough to study in the same buildings.

"I'm well, thank you." You smile. "Yourself?"

"I'm good." She nods. "How is school treating you?"

You laugh, shrugging and reaching up to rub your eyes. "Well enough, I suppose. Gives me something to do."

She smiles, sadly, and nods. You look over at Coryo quickly. "Should we be going then?"

He nods. "Yes, we should. Thank you, Tigris."

"Of course." She grins, waving you off as you make your way back down the steps ahead of him.

Coryo throws his bag over his shoulder, rushing to follow you as he notices his mismatched buttons and quickly tries to fix it. "Where do you want to go?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Maybe the park? It's a nice day out." You offer.

He looks around. It wasn't that nice- there was a thin overcast of clouds that suggested it may start to rain, and there wasn't much time before the sun would set. "I mean, it looks like it's going to rain. Noise doesn't bother me, we could just go to your house."

You sigh, looking down at your feet as you walk in no particular direction, kicking a stone across the broken pavement. "No." You quickly dismiss it. "What about the old bomb shelter? I know how to get into the one on my block. There's an unlocked door."

Your friend wrinkles up his nose at the suggestion. "Isn't it gross and dusty and dark?"

"It's not that bad." You laugh. "Don't be a baby."

"Do you remember the bombings?" You ask, pushing aside an old curtain in the underground shelter.

"I don't think I could forget if I wished to." Coryo mutters, looking around. It was dusty, but you had found a light switch very quickly. The lights overhead flickered after years of not being used, but for some reason, power was still connected. Like they were still on standby, waiting for another flood of terrified people to swarm in during the night after years of being left untouched.

"Me neither." You hum, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. "We slept over there." You point vaguely to a far corner of the vast space of old bunk beds and tables.

"Cozy." Coryo mumbles, stepping around a crack in the ceiling where water had dripped down into a puddle on the floor.

You laugh as you place your bag down on a table, quickly removing your blazer to dust off the bench next to it so the two of you could sit. You won't get in any more trouble for dirtying your uniform than you already are for hitting your classmate.

You lay the red material down across it and use your palms to wipe the table so your friend would be more comfortable placing his stuff there. "Here, sit." You smile, patting the spot next to yourself.

"Thanks." He nods, eyes locked on the yellowing bruise that falls around your wrist. It was previously unnoticeable under the shadow of your blazer sleeve, but now with only your blue dress shirt slightly folded up, it was clear as day. To him, anyway. His eyes flick up to your face as you dig through your bag, so blissfully unaware that now he knows why you came to him instead of going home. He hadn't thought of it before.

"Well?" You turn, raising an eyebrow at him when he doesn't make an effort to move. "You scared or something? I don't bite."

He shakes himself out of his stupor of realization. Maybe one day he would say something, but that certainly wouldn't be today. "I'm pretty sure you do." He jokes, sliding into the spot next to you.

"Oh, how you think so little of me." You laugh as he starts pulling papers and books out of his bag. A small smile tugs on his lips, but he doesn't look at you. You tilt your head a little bit, watching his movements closely. He's so sophisticated for a boy who just turned fourteen.

"I was working on math before you showed up. Want to do that first?" His lips are moving suddenly, and you only notice after that he's looking at you.

"Oh, yes. Sure." You smile, quickly turning back to your own notebooks and pulling out the right one. You didn't want to work on homework, not at all, but it was better than being at home.

"What page are you on?" Coryo asks absentmindedly, flipping through his textbook to note both where he is and where you are. You didn't need his help, but he was happy to offer it.

"236. You?"

"250."

"You're fast." You giggle, shaking your head as you look at him.

"Well, I had an hour when I got home, so..."

"Right." You wonder as you stare at his blonde curls if they get poofy when he brushes it. It must. He clearly hasn't had a haircut in quite a while. You twist the ends of your own hair between your fingers. You haven't either.

Coryo's brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries to read in the mediocre lighting, copying down the equation he was working on.

"Why are you friends with me?" You ask impulsively, and his writing hand freezes for just a moment.

"Because... You're nice to me." He answers simply, resuming the question he was on.

"I'm not that nice to you." You giggle. "Everyone is nice to you, mostly."

"Yes, well, you're funny too. It seems that all our classmates have monkey brains, or something."

"So you think I'm smart?" You tease, leaning your chin on your palm.

"Aren't you?" He deflects the question back to you, not risking looking your way.

"I like to think so." You shrug. "But that's not a good reason to be friends with someone."

"Then why are you friends with me?"

You bite your lip, picking up your pencil and suddenly finding an interest in the bite marks you've left in the wood over the last week. "I don't know." You say honestly. "You're nice to me... I suppose." You laugh, seeing the irony in your response.

Coryo finally looks at you, smiling knowingly. "See?"

"Okay, fine. But I like to think we get along really well, don't you think?" You really don't want to do your homework, deciding it would be better to just talk anyway. That's why you went to him, you realize. You wanted to talk.

"Sejanus said we bicker like an old married couple." He chuckles.

"Well, yes, but he's wrong. Besides, an old couple wouldn't be married if they didn't at least get along most of the time."

He nods, tapping his pencil against his notebook. "I guess you're right." He agrees. "But we don't really fight, it's just... pretend. You know that, right?" He looks at you hopefully, trying to pick up on a sense of understanding in your eyes.

"Well, duh." You giggle nervously. "If we really fought I wouldn't be your friend. I'd hit you with a book, as we know."

He nods, but doesn't laugh at your joke. "I wouldn't hurt you on purpose. Ever." Don't look at her wrist, don't look at her wrist, don't look at-

"I know." You nod, speaking quieter now as you feel the seriousness in his tone. The smile on your face is genuine, but he can tell it's forced beyond sadness. "Maybe that's why I'm friends with you."

"That's a good reason." He says softly, matching your smile. "Trust is the most important thing."

You think he doesn't know how much that means to you, but he does. You force yourself to look away quickly, torn between the urges to both cry and kiss him. You'd never kissed anyone before, but you'd decided when other girls started having boyfriends who they only stayed with for a week that if you had to pick anyone, it would be Coryo. Something tells you he wouldn't break your heart.

"So you trust me?" You ask, blinking away tears as you pretend to focus on your schoolwork.

"Of course I do."

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dryadalisliv · 8 months

Text

“Arthur”

They were alone in the throne room, everyone had left a few moments ago. Arthur was sat upon his throne.

“You were just dismissed along with everyone else”

“Arthur” Merlin tried.

“Merlin, leave” Arthur gritted out of his teeth.

“No”

Arthur, who had pointedly not looked at the servant through the entire council meeting, now -finally- placed his eyes upon Merlin.

“What do you mean ‘no’, I am your king. You. Are. Dismissed”

“No” The warlock said, cheeks flushing with anger. “No, Arthur, we will talk. And we will talk now”

Arthur got up from his throne, standing a few steps over Merlin; towering as if the physical elevation was trying to prove what the king didn’t have when it came to Merlin. Yes he was his king, but he sure as hell did not rule over the warlock.

“You do well to remember who gives the orders here. Who the king is.”

“And you, Arthur, would do well remembering who here is loyal to you”

“Loyal.” Arthur huffed “Tell me, M er lin, I find it quite curious that the one who claims himself loyal to the king commits treason regularly in the heart of said kings kingdom, don’t you agree?”

“You, Arthur Pendragon, know nothing of what I have done for you” Merlin nearly screamed, the echo bouncing off the walls in the big room.

“No, and whose fault is that? Who is it that forfeited me of that information, I wonder?” The king yelled back.

“I would gladly tell if you would let me. I have tried for the past FOUR MONTHS!” The warlock roared.

“And what about before those four months, huh? You know, the TEN YEARS! Where you simply forgot to mention the fact that you practiced MAGIC! You know? THE MOST ILLEGAL THING IN CAMELOT! THE KINGDOM IN WHICH YOU HAVE BEEN LIVING IN FOR A DECADE!” Arthur spat, moving closer to the servant.

“You know I could not have told you while your father was alive; that would not have been fair to you. To ask you to choose between me and Camelot”

“I don’t care if it fair or not.” The king cried “And what when I was crowned? You didn’t think to tell me then?” Arthur asked, voice still laced with poison anger.

“Arthur” Merlin tried softly.

“Don’t ‘Arthur’ me” Arthur spat.

“That would be the exact same problem, don’t you see? It would just be a choice between your kingdom and me, instead of your father and me”

“And?” Arthur hissed “what gave you the right to take that choice from me?”

“Arthur, I was trying not to be cruel”

“Oh!” Arthur laughed, though his eyes were mirthless and the cackle was hollow. “You were trying not to be cruel ” he mocked.

“Did you ever think, that maybe, it would be crueller to keep this from me?”

Merlin was shaking, frustration crawling around his limbs, manifesting in his tightened fists and set jaw.

“I DONT KNOW” Merlin screamed after a moment of tense silence. “I don’t know”

“I think there is something else, about this, something you are not telling me!” Arthur accused.

“What?!” The warlock nearly begged “what? I don’t understand. I don’t understand!”

“Nor do I!” The king yelled back. “But there is something! Why wouldn’t you allow me the choice? Why keep this from me? You knew it would come out one day! Why?”

Merlin’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, body still shaking in despair and frustration.

“I DON’T KNOW ARTHUR! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?!” The raven asked desperately.

“The truth, for once” Arthur huffed.

“I don’t know what you want me to say?! That I was scared? That I didn’t know how to get the words out of my mouth, that I-“

Arthur was walking slowly further and further towards Merlin, as the warlock kept rambling, trying to find his thoughts.

“-didn’t want to see the betrayal in your eyes, or the hatred or-“

Merlin started letting the tears, he had so valiantly tried to keep at bay, fall.

“-or” his voice broke. “Or the fact that I knew, that in each case you wouldn’t chose me”

He whispered at last.

Silence.

“Oh Merlin” Arthur said softly. Reaching out and wiping away a tear from the warlock’s cheek with his thumb.

“I know I’m terrible at letting feelings show, but I had hoped you would know just a little how dear you are to me”

Merlin looked his king in the eyes for the first time since the tears overtook him.

“De-ar?” The warlocks voice broke at the questioning word.

“Very dear” Arthur said, maintaining eye contact, but showing a soft crimson heat over his cheekbones.

“Oh”

“Yes, oh” Arthur mocked fondly.

Merlin looked at his king intensely.

“Well- Well you are very dear to me too” he whispered after a few moments of silence, and if Arthur hadn’t been standing as close as he was, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“Seems we are in luck then” Arthur said with a smirk.

“Yes it would seem” Merlin grinned, still with Arthur’s thumb gently caressing his wet cheeks.

The king smiled and kissed his warlock.

#arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin #fanfic #merthur fanfics #merthur ficlet #merlin fanfic

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rebouks · 2 months

Text

She knew-.. Robin was sure of it.

Despite her warmth, he’d always been slightly unnerved by aunt Alma’s presence; there was something odd about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Some people were harder to read than others, like Alex, but it was still possible.

Alma’s mind was like an impenetrable vault in comparison. Any attempts to feel or hear anything she did were met with a metaphorical brick wall, leaving him reeling as though he’d collided with it head first-.. but not tonight. Tonight, Alma was like an open book, and Robin was convinced she was doing it on purpose.

She’d told him all about her struggles as a child; how she didn’t fit in, how people teased her for being too sensitive, how hard it was to figure out who she was amongst the clamour of everyone else’s inner most image of themselves-.. all the while allowing him unlimited access to those very memories, like a handpicked blooper reel, just for him. Of course, that wasn’t the case though.. was it?

Alma had stopped talking now, but Robin still wasn’t sure how to react. He sat in silence instead, staring at nothing in particular for far longer than what could be considered normal.

“Can you hear me?” he thought, deciding to try a little experiment.

Nothing. Okay, so she couldn’t read his mind-.. then what the heck was she getting at? How had she so succinctly summed up his entire existence in less than fifteen minutes?

“I would’ve liked somewhere as quiet as this when I was young, it’s a shame we didn’t have an attic…” Alma offered, clearly trying to relate to Robin’s situation in any way she could. He still wasn’t entirely sure why, but she clearly wanted to help, and Robin didn’t know anyone else who understood him as well as she did, so perhaps he ought to let her try. He finally abandoned his switch and cautiously joined her atop his favourite, motheaten couch.

“What’re you getting at?” he said bluntly, curiosity getting the better of his manners. Alma chuckled softly, “You’re just like your father.” “It’s genetics, apparently…” Robin let loose a brief grin, glad to be compared to Oscar.

“I don’t know how exactly, but you’re different, Robin-.. and I thought it high time you knew you weren’t alone, and that we can’t let these things get the best of us.” Alma smiled softly as she spoke, but Robin was still too wary to be completely transparent. “We?” he asked, dubiously. “We’re few and far between, but you’re certainly not the only one who’s a little.. special, shall we say? That’s better than different, maybe?” Alma suggested.

Robin hummed thoughtfully, shaking his head, “Special is just another word for different, or weird.” Alma scoffed playfully, “And what’s wrong with being weird? I’m weird-.. we’re all a bit weird!”

“How’re you weird?” Robin asked, squinting at Alma accusingly. “Well, I can sense things I certainly shouldn’t be able to.” Alma started, excited to be getting somewhere. “Emotions radiate from people like a space heater-.. they’re not always pleasant, of course, but I can soak them up if I want to.”

Robin blinked, “Only if you want to..?” “Uh-huh.” Alma nodded. “You can block it out?!” Robin spluttered, suddenly and completely forgetting to maintain his ignorance before swiftly correcting himself. “I mean-.. it sounds like you can pick and choose, right?”

Alma nodded once more, “It wasn’t easy, but I spent a lot of years practicing.” “Years?” Robin sounded crestfallen. “I didn’t have a mentor…” Alma winked.

Robin allowed himself to smirk, figuring he might as well drop at least part of the act at this point. He was still a little nervous about being approached about such things so brazenly, but at least he knew why Alma perturbed him so much now, she was blocking him out on purpose-.. and she couldn’t read his mind either, which was always a plus.

The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know that he possessed that particular ability. Who’d want to hang out with someone who could access their inner most thoughts, the one’s they’d never dream of saying out loud? He shuddered involuntarily, hoping he’d never meet anyone that could read his.

Clementine finally nudged Robin, dragging him back to the present with her ghostly touch. “She looked right at me just then-.. she smiled! Did you see?” Robin spun around, realising that Alma had almost begun her descent. He must’ve missed her goodbye. “Wait!”

Alma paused expectantly, causing Robin to second guess himself and retreat into silence. “I won’t be far, sweetheart-.. whenever you’re ready.” Robin shivered as Clementine poked him again, “She can definitely see me…” “Can you, uh-…”

“See the ghost poking you?” Alma giggled, sounding far younger than she was. The vault doors had snapped shut again by now, but Robin got the impression that aunt Alma was just as excited as he was to find someone else who was weird. “Can you hear her?”

“Maybe-.. though I’m quite sure she hasn’t said anything yet.” Alma peered at Clementine expectantly. “Hey!” Clementine exclaimed as Robin tried to shove her into action, his hand ending up halfway through her waist instead.

“What? It’s not like you can feel it.” Robin snorted. Alma laughed heartily, thoroughly amused. “Well, I heard that-.. you two are good friends, huh?”

Robin nodded slightly, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “I thought I was the only one who could see her-.. that maybe I was going insane…” “Far from it, honey! You hit me up whenever you feel like it, okay?”

Previous // Next

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #robin finch #clementine stanton #alma garcia #whew.. longish post but necessary!?!#u can keep your secrets for the most part robin but maybe it's time to let -someone- in.. who better than “weird” aunt alma?#🤭#she's an empath btw.. so she can't read minds #but she picked up on robin's lil gift even if not -fully-#enough to try n help right?!!#this was super hard to write cos how do u start a conversation where one doesn't know what's up n the other refuses to say anything skdjskj #big ty to zosa for helping me get going ilyyyyy 🤸‍♀️

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whydoeseveryonewanttobangchan · 11 months

Text

PART 2: 🚪 What’s wrong with a little privacy, huh? 🚪

✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Smut

✎ Summary: Your boyfriend takes you out to a nice restaurant, but you end up eating something not on the menu.

✎ CW: Oral sex, hand job, masturbation, kissing, public diddly-dooing, food play

✎ Word count: 2,666 😈

✩ A/N: Part 1: What’s wrong with a little privacy, huh? ✩

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

The door swings open slowly, and the waiter appears, balancing a tray of shellfish in his hands. It takes a few seconds to see you, to register what he’s actually looking at: you jumping up out of Chan’s lap to stand next to his chair, face absolutely red as a cherry tomato.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the waiter says, turning his eyes to the floor as he brings the tray to the table.

“No, I’m so sorry. We got carried away… this is entirely our fault I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely.

Chan can’t speak, nor can he wipe that stupid grin off his stupidly cute face.

“Honestly, ma’am, it’s not the worst thing I’ve walked in on…” the waiter says as he places the tray in the middle of the table. “We made signs in case things like this happen, in case people want to use this room for… more. I’ll put one on the door.”

He nods respectfully and disappears once again, shutting the door behind him. Your eyes meet Chan’s once you’re alone again, and your reactions couldn’t be more different.

While you fight every urge to melt into a puddle, your boyfriend bursts out laughing. The embarrassment you feel is unfortunately nothing compared to the sheer love and adoration you have for this goofy man and his breathy, squeaky laugh.

“We’re gonna get banned, you know,” you scold.

“Naur, he said this happens. We get a sign!” he says cheekily, standing and holding your face in his palms. “Our very own sign, sweetheart.”

“Oh god…” you sigh and bury your face in his chest, hoping if you push hard enough you can just bust through his ribs and live inside his torso and escape this awkward hell.

“Hey… it’s ok,” he comforts you, rubbing the back of your head. “On the bright side, now we can really get into it.”

Your head snaps back up.

“You… you cannot be serious,” you say incredulously.

“What? We have a sign now,” he reasons, rubbing your back. “We have to do something worthy of the sign.”

“You’re absolutely insatiable,” you say, lightly pushing off of his chest to return to your seat.

“Here, allow me,” he says, rushing to the back of your chair to move it closer to the table.

“No, you’re not a gentleman anymore, you can’t fool me.”

Chan places his hands on your shoulders and leans down to put his lips right next to your ear.

“Well, I may not be gentle,” he croons, “but I am your man.”

After the last word, his soft, wet lips meet your cheek and apply gentle pressure before disappearing again so he can rejoin you at the table, like civilized diners. He sits and smiles at you as he unrolls his napkin and turns his attention to the steaming tray of shellfish.

You pick up a clam and use a small fork to loosen it from its shell before sliding it into your mouth, and Chan does the same.

“How is it?” you ask as he chews.

“Really good, needs a little more salt, though,” he answers.

“Agreed,” you echo, reaching for the salt shaker between your plates, but his hand lands there first.

“Hold on,” he says, keeping his long fingers between you and the salt. “I kinda wanna try something.”

“What would that be?”

“How about a… different kind of… sauce?” he says, cheeks reddening more than you’ve ever seen and trying his best to hold back a giggle.

You raise one brow at him, waiting for him to elaborate on whatever ridiculous scheme he’s cooking up, but he just smirks at you.

“I’m not asking the waiter for extra shit after that…” you start.

“…nonono. I mean…” he sighs. “Do you really need me to specify?”

Your unwavering gaze screams yes.

“What if I add… a little taste of… Australia?” he says sheepishly. “You know…”

You completely lose control the moment realization hits, and you can’t contain your laughter.

“Chan… you want to… come in an oyster? Is that what you’re telling me right now?” you ask, barely getting the words out between deep breaths and long chuckles.

His pretty lips turn down into a frown.

“Hey… don’t laugh. I was trying to be… kind of sexy…” he says, voice dropping off at the end.

“Hey, it is. Kind of. It’s also incredibly silly,” you clarify, but one look at his embarrassed expression has you changing your tune.

“But…” you sigh. “I’m down.”

His gaze is still aimed down at his plate, but he perks up a little.

“Really? I mean, I know it’s silly, but…” he pauses and slowly runs his eyes up your chest, your neck, to land on your lips. “It would be kind of hot… watching you eat it…”

His lustful eyes plead with your mouth, like if he just stared enough he could get his come on your tongue. And at that moment, there’s nothing you want more than to give him what he wants.

“Well…” you start, picking up a larger oyster. “You said it needed more salt. Why don’t you help me out, then?”

You extend your arm across the table, offering the shellfish to him. He hesitantly reaches for it, but you can see the smile growing.

“My pleasure,” he finally says with a devilish grin. “Hold on…”

He gently takes the oyster from your hand and floats it over his plate, over the edge of the table, and down into his lap.

You interlace your fingers and place them under your chin, propping yourself up on the table with your elbows. Just watching him.

He fumbles for a bit, then looks back up at you.

“I don’t want to overwhelm your tastebuds, so I’ll start light,” he decides. “Just the appetizer version to sample, yeah?”

You hum in response, hypnotized by the way his shoulders and biceps flex and move. He reaches under the table and squeezes your knee before speaking again.

“Ok, here I go.”

You can’t see his hand work, but you’ve watched him enough to picture exactly what he’s doing out of view.

He’ll tightly grip his cockhead — not wasting time with the touching and teasing you enjoy when you’re at the helm — and he’ll stroke quickly. He’s much more no-nonsense, especially when the events that will follow are even more exciting than the sensation itself.

His bottom lip disappears between his teeth as his forearm moves up and down just enough to lure some of this… sauce… to the surface. But his eyes stay on your face — on your lips — as the rest of him shakes slightly.

“Almost…” he moans softly. “Just need… a little.”

Once he’s gathered an acceptable amount of precum in the shell, he stops and lifts it back above the table, and holds it above his plate. His dark eyes are glued to your lips, and his chest rises and falls gently.

“Well… what are you waiting for?” you ask, hand outstretched across the table. “Give it here.”

He hesitates, just for a second, then drops the oyster in your palm.

“I hope it tastes all right,” he says mischievously.

You lift the shell to your lips and tilt your head back, letting the oyster and the sauce slide onto your tongue. It sits there for a few seconds, the flavors sinking into your tastebuds.

“Sooooo, tell me,” Chan urges. “How is it? Enough salt?”

One eyebrow raises as you purse your lips and stare. Leaving him in suspense for a few more seconds can’t hurt. But then he tilts his head a little to the left and pleads with those pretty eyes, and you know you lost.

“Honestly?” you ask, and he quickly nods. “Not salty enough. I think you can do better.”

One side of his mouth pulls up and reveals that cute dimple. You knew this would get him; he can’t resist a challenge.

“Fine, give me another,” he says, reaching toward the tray, but you grab his wrist before his fingers touch a shell.

“No, let me.”

You slowly push your chair back and slide down, knees softly hitting the floor. Your hands touch the cool tile next as you begin to crawl under the table.

“Maybe we just need a better chef for this…” you purr. “Someone with more… delicate hands.”

Cold fingers surround his warm cock, and you let the rush of blood beneath his skin return your hand to a normal temperature before moving it up and down, up and down.

His head falls back and his big hands grip the armrests as you settle on your knees just in front of his chair. His legs part as wide as the chair will allow for you, for your hand, your lips…

You decide against teasing him more this time and just give him what he wants instead. After all, it’s what you want, too. And judging by the taste of his precum, you’re in for a treat.

One hand works slowly near the base while you close your lips around him. It’s gentle at first, like if you squeeze or suck too hard you might break him. And you’d hate to spill his metaphorical salt and bring on bad luck — the devil may appear over your shoulder, convincing you to do dirty things, evil things. But that does sound like fun…

You suck harder now, hollowing out your cheeks to apply wet pressure on all sides of him. And you take him in so deeply, just a little deeper with each bob of your head. Giving him more of you, more of your throat. But it’s not enough, because his hand is in your hair, pushing you further down into his lap.

“Ohhhhh my god,” he breathes, trying his best to stay relatively quiet. “Jesus christ…”

His fingers interlace with the long strands at the back of your skull, pulling you up and down at a comfortable pace. He’s not worried about speed, he just wants to feel all of you.

He wants to go as far into you as he can — and then some. Feel the pressure from your lips and your cheeks and your tongue and the small gap at the back of your mouth and the tight ridges at the top of your throat. He loves this, and he’s so fucking lucky you don’t have a strong gag reflex.

“Baby doll…” he trails off as he slowly fucks your mouth. “You feel amazing, oh my girl, my beautiful… ohhh…”

His hips slide forward in the chair, and his thighs start to quake. He’s close.

You slide your unoccupied hand over his legs and up between his torso and the table, keeping your palm open like you’re asking him to hand you something. He grabs your hand to hold it, though, and his touch is sweet and wonderful, but it’s not what you need right now.

“What?” he laughs as you shake him off. “What do you need, baby?”

You close your fingers and thumb together and open them slowly, trying to imitate the opening of a shell. He hands you a napkin, and you throw it back on the table. He tries a small plate next, and you do your best to place that one down gently.

“I don’t know what to give you, honey,” he sighs.

You try your best shellfish impression again, and he’s silent for a few seconds, then…

“OH!”

An oyster gently lands in your palm, and you pull it back down under the table. Chan chuckles to himself and you get back to work right as a knock sounds at the door.

“Everything ok in there, sir? Can I get you two anything?” the waiter asks.

“Uh, no, we’re fine! T-thank you!” Chan calls out, his voice surprisingly steady given the circumstance.

Footsteps recede down the hallway, and Chan speaks again in a hushed voice.

“You almost got us in trouble again.”

You pull back from his cock to defend yourself.

“No, that’s you and your big ass mouth,” you tease. “I know I feel amazing, but have some self-control.”

His soft laugh quickly turns into a breathy moan as you take him back into your mouth. He hits the back of your throat a few times before you switch to targeting his most sensitive spots.

One hand grips his base while the other cups his balls, and his hands are gripping the arms of his chair for dear life. Your tongue runs up and down his shaft, breaking the rhythm every now and then to circle his tip or press into his slit.

“Close, b-baby,” he whines. “G-get ready.”

Tongue laid flat across your bottom lip, you press into the underside of his head to wait for your treat. The oyster is nearby, too, ready to catch a little bit for itself.

He doesn’t make it easy, though. Chan comes in strong waves, the first shooting straight back into your throat, the next weakly rolling down your tongue and onto your chest, the third landing safely on the back of your tongue.

You move the oyster into the stream for a second or two, just long enough to get some flavor. The rest is yours to savor on its own.

The bitterness hits your tongue first, but the longer it swirls and lingers on your tastebuds, you get the sweet and tangy notes. You could drink an entire glass of him.

“Fuck…”

You push his chair back and crawl forward enough to stand without hitting your head. His eyes find your face for the first time since you crawled under the table, and his lips pull into a wide smile.

“Oh god,” he giggles. “You look, uh.”

Your hand goes to your hair — the tangled mess that was once your nice date night hair. And you can feel the sticky warmth on your lips, your chin, your chest. You must look ruined.

“Well, let’s see if it was worth it,” you chirp, leaning back to sit on the edge of the table and slip the oyster into your mouth.

Your eyebrows pull down as you assess the flavors. Salty is more than covered this time, and that tangy sweetness complements the shellfish perfectly. It’s surprisingly actually really good. But you can’t let him off that easily.

“Hmmmmm,” you muse, staring up and off into the corner of the room. But you sneak a glance at his face — his sweet, anxious, expectant face — and those warm, loving eyes, and you can feel yourself losing the battle once again.

“Please, how is it?” he asks, almost pleadingly. His chest still rises and falls and his neck glistens with a few drops of sweat in the most beautiful way. Who are you kidding? You can’t resist him.

“Honestly, baby? It’s pretty fucking good,” you admit.

Somehow, his smile gets even wider, and he pulls you into his lap again. His gorgeous eyes stare into yours in the sweetest mix of love and pride as he pulls you close for a gentle kiss. Noses still touching afterward, he speaks.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel good, are you?”

“I thought I already did that,” you quip and reattach your lips.

He smiles into the kiss and tightens his hold around your waist, and then there’s another knock at the door.

“Hello again, just checking in,” the waiter says from the hallway.

Chan looks up at you with nothing but joy and adoration in his eyes when he yells, “Actually, we’re gonna make out for the next half hour, so if you could come back after, that would be great.”

“Of course sir, I’ll set a timer,” the waiter says, and you think you can hear him laugh.

“Guess we have a half hour then,” you tease, physically unable to hold back your smile.

“Better make the most of it,” he replies, pulling you impossibly close for yet another mind-blowing kiss.

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

🏷️ @drhsthl @3rachasninja @channieand08 @ikykleeknowww @anjian3 @tooskathepiratefromshield @channiesbabygirl 🏷️

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teriri-sayes · 5 months

Text

Reactions to Young Master Shield's Chapter 212

TL;DR - Alberu and Cale talks about the miscommunication. Alberu scolds Cale. The two plan to rip off other kingdoms again. GoD approves of Cale's request. GoD's bishop meets Cale at the black castle. Violan sees Cale off. Cale arrives in the world of a RoFan (romance-fantasy) and becomes a ML???

The Two Brothers The scenes between the two today was so funny. Alberu scolded Cale for misinterpreting his nod back then, and increasing his workload now. 😂

Alberu: That's why I told you to just go quietly. Cale: I thought I had to explain and then go! Alberu: ...Are you mad at me now? Cale: ... Alberu: Tsk. Why did you have to say that you were saving the world? Cale: (I mean, how will I explain it then?) Alberu: You could've said it was related to Arm. Because it's true, right? Then people will be less anxious and won't worry as much, right? Cale: ... Alberu: Even if you cannot lie, you should speak in moderation. Why are you increasing my workload? The background: *constant ringing noises from the video comm devices connected to other countries* Alberu: *glares at Cale* Cale: Ahem. *avoids the gaze* Alberu: This is driving me crazy.

And then the two laughed as they thought of ripping off the other countries again... 😂

"I plan to gather representatives from each kingdom soon and share some of the truth." "…" "It means we need to hold a general meeting. You know what I mean, right? Huh?" Alberu asked with a bright smile. Cale responded quickly. "Yep." It wasn't 'yes,' but 'yep.' Alberu's bright smile deepened, and Cale smiled back. "Hahahaha!" "Hahaha!" Munch, munch. Raon, who was eating cookies, turned away from the two. "Both of you are acting strange!" The two felt a strange sense of futility in the 7 year old dragon's words and stopped laughing.

Of course, Cale also kept teasing Alberu. Like when Cale brightly smiled at Alberu for thinking the same thing as him. 😂

Alberu: *planning to take advantage of the situation to gain something* Cale: *brightly smiling as if he knew what Alberu was thinking* Alberu: !!! Alberu: Don't look at me like that. Cale: How am I looking at you? I'm just looking at you with great respect right now, okay? Alberu: Haa… (I shouldn't talk to you.)

And one more... 🤣🤣🤣

Alberu: No need to send you off? Cale: *grins* Yes. You must be so busy to even play games. I wish you luck! Alberu: … *smiling brightly* Raon: Oh! I think my human won against the crown prince this time!

Aipotu Plans So Cale's request to increase the number of people to a hundred got approved... sort of. GoD said that Cale was allowed to bring 99 people, and the last 100th spot was reserved for someone who might "descend" to that world.

Cale was surprised at the word "descend", and wondered if a god was going. Woah... Is the situation that serious then? GoD did say that if Cale's guess about the Five-Colored Bloods being wanderers was true, it would cause chaos in the divine realm. So who would descend? GoD himself? GoP? GoFP? Angelina?

GoD wouldn't give Cale an answer on who, but told him to bring Cage with him in case communication through the divine mirror fails.

As for the enemy wanderer, we did get one clue about them. Sui and CJS reported that the enemy was wearing a cow-shaped mask, and that was it.

The Send-Off Because the entire black castle would be going, Cale did not head to the temple of GoD this time. Instead, it was the bishop of GoD who came to the black castle. Cale warned the bishop to keep everything a secret, and they agreed, feeling intimidated by everything he had seen here.

We had some touching scene of Violan sending off Cale, telling him to take care of himself. She handed him a blueprint of the castle's new stuff, and told him to make use of it if an enemy attacked.

Cale, the Grand Duke of the North? And finally, Cale's group arrived at the world of Aipotu. They were all tense and prepared to go to battle, but what did they see upon arrival? A snow-filled landscape and cold winds. Apparently, GoD sent them there because this was where CJG last sent a message to GoD, so GoD thought this place was safe.

The group was then greeted by an old man and his entourage in winter clothes, and the old man mistook Cale for... the Grand Duke! 🤣🤣🤣 Cale was shocked, and the confused old man corrected himself, saying that he (Cale) must be the descendant of the Grand Duke who came to save the fief!

Cale, with his extensive knowledge of novels he had read as KRS, then blurted out, "Grand Duke of the North?" At those words, the old man exclaimed that the revelation in his dream was indeed correct. 😂

But wait, Cale... Grand Duke of the North is a cliche in romance-fantasy (rofan) novels... So you also read rofan?! 🤣🤣🤣 And Cale is that Grand Duke's descendant?! 😂

Okay, on a more serious note, does that mean the Thames household was originally from Aipotu? Because Cale's red hair was inherited from them, and the old man even mistook Cale for the grand duke himself. Or is this another case like how WS's appearance was a red-haired KRS lookalike?

Ending Remarks Today's chapter had a lot of funny moments, though I was surprised that they're suddenly in Aipotu by the end of the chapter. Oh yeah, Cale's talk with the Molans got postponed again, but Cale was now seriously thinking of making time to talk with them.

TCF's genre keeps increasing. First it was a transmigration into a western fantasy world. Then we had the modern fantasy and apocalyptic monsters. Next was the world-hopping. Xiaolen was a fantasy world with necromancy theme and throne succession battle. Central Plains was a typical murim world with Eastern zombies. Earth 3 was said to have hunters and dungeons. And now, Aipotu is... a romance fantasy world with dragons? 🤣🤣🤣

If it's rofan, will we have another crown prince here who's going to be the rival of the grand duke of the north? Who's going to be the FL? A commoner turned noble? Or will we have a villainess? Or maybe a saintess? 😂 All this thinking has me excited for the chapter on Friday!

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

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tripleyeeet · 2 months

Text

PROUD

SUMMARY: Halsin can’t help but indulge a bit after a particularly long day.

PAIRING: Halsin & Original Female Character (Elyra belongs to @bloodlessbhaalbabe)

WORD COUNT: 2,164

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, oral sex (fem receiving), light choking, overstimulation.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Wrote this as part of a trade with Mystical! First time writing Halsin so hopefully he isn’t too out of character???

MASTERLIST

The mood is low. As everyone stumbles tiredly through the veil of the Last Light Inn, even Halsin can feel the ache. A throbbing touch of pain radiating through his spine, spreading across the upper portions of his back like a violent wave.

Stepping past Jaheria who welcomes them back, he can’t help but groan and reach around to try and soothe the spasms that have begun to erupt. Pushing his thumb into the knotted flesh he tries his best to alleviate the pressure to no avail, prompting a huff to escape his lips that the elven woman beside him all but frowns at.

“You sore?” she asks, staring with such deep concern that Halsin has to look away and force out a soft smile to deter her from worrying. Knowing that if she doesn’t she’ll simply forgo her own struggles to aid him in his.

“I’m fine, Elyra.”

“Excuse me, Elyra?” Narrowing her eyes, she leans forward, placing her hands defiantly on her hips as she surveys his frame. Picking apart every section of bruised skin covering aching bones until she’s satisfied with her research, prompting her to huff. “You never call me that.”

Even he can’t help but grin at that. Well aware that she’s right. It’s always dear or heart or love —terms of endearment he wishes to whisper against her flesh in the heat of the night but is unable to do so thanks to his own goals.

Goals, he can’t help but silently curse as she steps towards him, instinctively arching her back in that flirtatious manner as she presses a hand to his chest.

“You’re delirious, Halsin.”

“What, for calling you by your birth name?”

Her eyelashes flutter as she nods, and it’s at the moment he thinks he might be dying. The lack of air in his chest causing a newfound pain to spread at the same time his heart fails to keep up its usual rhythm. All while his mind does somersaults trying to find a way to avoid the temptation of her beautiful lips pulling into a wide grin.

“How about I help you out with a nice massage, huh? We could go back to my room, smoke a little bit and just hang out?”

Right off the bat, he knows he should decline. Given the lack of control he already has around her on a good day, it’s obvious that if he were to allow himself the opportunity to get that close, he’d certainly give in. Resulting in yet another distraction on his way to break the curse.

Not that he considers her to be a particularly bad distraction. In fact, despite his thoughts sometimes telling him that she’s no good for him, he knows that’s not the case. Elyra is in fact very good for him. A woman so perfect that, even though those same thoughts are currently telling him to say no and to bid her goodnight, his body merely accepts her offer with a small nod. Allowing the woman to excitedly grab his hand and pull him up the stairs with such gracious ease that by the time he’s lying on her bed, stomach first, everything thought he’s ever had is gone.

“Does transforming into all those creatures ever mess with your bones?”

Lifting his head to laugh, he then cranes his neck to see her face twisting with focus. Her eyes narrowing as the pressure of her hands glide around his back —her lips pursing once she hits a particularly rough spot.

“I suppose it does wear one down after a long day.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I mean, could you imagine having your entire skeletal system just magically shift into something else? Gods, that would be so painful.” She cringes at the thought before her eyes suddenly widen, prompting Halsin to laugh again. “Wait, I guess you do know, huh?”

“Yes, very much so.”

“No wonder your muscles are all fucked up right now,” she points out, digging her palm into a particularly rough spot that has him instinctively groaning. A low guttural noise that he knows he shouldn’t feel embarrassed about, yet in the moment it’s all he can focus on.

“Sorry, should’ve warned you about that one. You’re real tight in the shoulder area.”

Clearing his throat, he’s suddenly too overwhelmed to continue, causing his body to shift to the side; her hands reluctantly moving away when their eyes inevitably meet. Pausing as he allows his weight to rest against the base of his forearm, unable to further move due to the fact that he wants to be closer.

More than anything, he wants to feel those calloused hands of hers wrapped around him, toying with his hair or fingers —pressing into the grooves of his chest as they descent to far less innocent lands.

Lands he has to force himself to forget about as he reluctantly pushes upwards, feeling the heat of Elyra’s stare become too much.

“Thank you for the massage,” he tells her then. And although he has every intention of shuffling off the edge of the bed and leaving, all he ends up doing is readjusting his position. Allowing his legs to extend and accidentally knock against her knee as she too gets on the bed.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem tense, big boy.”

Almost immediately, both of them know what she means when she says it. However, Halsin being too focused, fails to comment. Instead, averting his gaze as thoughts of her circle through his mind, granting Elyra enough time to crawl towards him.

And unfortunately for Halsin, it’s a sight he can no longer ignore. As her chest is practically exposed in full thanks to the angle, the only thing he can think about is touching her. Grabbing her waist and pulling her into his lap so that he can ravish her as thanks. Which is exactly what he does without even realizing it. His body and mind failing to connect until he feels their lips collide, prompting everything inside him to restart, realizing what he’s done.

He’s passed the threshold. Not only that, but he’s fully sprinted through the room too, winding up inside her bed with no desire of stopping once he feels her teeth snagging his bottom lip, playfully pulling the skin with a grin.

“Careful, my dear heart,” he warns her, but all she does is continue. Pushing him past the point of no return in the form of hands caressing his cheeks and a tongue that seamlessly slips through to touch his own.

Which prompts him to flip her onto her back. In one quick motion, causing her to wildly laugh and tug his hair, forcing him down to capture her lips. Neither one of them wasting time as he cages her against the mattress.

“See, I knew you were tense.”

Without warning, his hand glides down her side with careful precision. The pads of his fingers applying pressure to all her plushest parts before he inevitably lands on her inner thigh. “Seems you might be as well.”

Rolling her eyes, she gives his hair another tug, demanding more. “You haven’t even touched me yet, how would you know?”

He’s tempted to make fun of her then. To tell her that every waking moment he knows because she’s the most open person he’s ever met, but then he sees the way she’s looking at him. So desperately needy and tired of waiting. So completely set on what’s to come that all he can do is hum and pry his fingers from her thigh to push her skirt out of the way.

“Would you like me to touch you?”

And for once, she’s speechless. The words failing to exit her mouth as Halsin draws a long line across the fabric laid over her cunt. The edge of his knuckle pressing against her clothed clit, refusing to move until she nods her head. An action so simple, yet impactful that despite every part of his mind screaming at him to stop —to focus on what he came here to do instead of falling further into the loving palm of this beautiful woman— he refuses. Instead, guiding his hands to respectively brush her underwear to the side, feeling the heated flesh of her pleasure practically gush in his hands.

“More… please.”

Her voice is just as breathless as his lungs. As he runs his knuckles up and down her folds, gently burrowing the bones into her crevice, he can’t help but grin. Knowing that with just the touch of his hand, he’s somehow able to bring forth something new within her. Something needy and wild —a visceral wine escaping once he uncurls his hand, tentatively pushing a finger inside.

“Tense as ever, my dear heart,” he practically whispers, leaning down to kiss her face. Pressing his lips to her cheek, then her chin, stopping at the top edge of her neck to take a deep breath. “Why I can barely get a finger in without you clenching those walls of yours.”

In response, she twitches around him. Unable to deny his claims, he can feel her give in. The pulse of her cunt wetting his fingers. The way it practically sucks him in as he proceeds to slip another one in at the same time he nips her neck with his teeth.

“So smug, aren’t you?”

Suckling the wound, he grins against her before pulling back to look at his work. To see the warmth of her cheeks spread down to the base of her chest. The heat from his curious fingers eliciting more of a response than he intended to receive.

“Not smug. Proud.”

“Proud?” She lets out a laugh, bucking up her hips when he begins to slowly pump in and out, testing the waters further.

“Proud to call you mine for the evening,” he explains, his free hand rising to grip her chin so that he can brush a finger across her lower lip. “Also, proud to know that I can render you speechless with just a touch of my hand.”

“You should be pro—oh fuck.”

His thumb circles her clit as he chuckles, watching her head fall back. The red tone of her hair resembling a fiery halo sprawled out across the wrinkled bed sheets beneath them. “Sorry, were you saying something, my love?”

He can feel her defiance through the tenseness of her muscles. Both beneath and around his fingers. Every part of her threatens to retaliate until she feels his hand lace carefully around her throat, the pressure of his fingers stopping her in her tracks.

Which only spurs him on further. Feeling the submission she offers in response to one measly touch, it’s as if every thought he’s ever had about waiting is gone. The mere idea of it exiting his mind once he begins lowering himself down, staring at her curious eyes until they vanish behind the fabric of her skirt and all he sees is her cunt.

Swollen and dripping, it’s a sight that has him feeling ravenous. A hunger so foul stirring in his stomach that he fails to wait for permission, prompting him to practically rip the fabric from her hips and dive in.

And almost immediately, another groan slips out of him. The sound reverberating off her flesh in a way that has her bucking up again, taking back control. Forcing him to work that much harder as he grabs her hips, locking her in place. Prodding her folds with his eager tongue —playfully nipping her skin in between to tease and extend her pleasure.

He can tell she hates it. Or rather, hates the patience he’s thrust upon her as he builds her up only to stop and pull away, heavily breathing against her entrance as a way to further taunt her.

“You’re a —you’re a sick bastard, Halsin, whatever your last name is… I can’t remember right now.”

He chuckles against her clit before taking it in his mouth, suckling the flesh as he eventually pushes two fingers inside again, feeling her tense. Noticing the immediate build he’s once again provided when she begins to heavily breathe and lace her fingers in his hair, begging him not to stop. To please, never stop.

So, he doesn’t. Even when she’s shaking beneath him, every muscle in her body releasing the pleasure she desperately sought to gain from him, he continues. Brutalizing every part of her cunt with languid, pressurized licks and greedy fingers that pump and curl. His body providing whatever stimulations she requires and more until they’re both spent on the bed, heaving out breaths neither of them has enough energy to gain as he slowly crawls up to rest on her plush stomach, smiling at the way her eyes narrow in false annoyance.

“I’m almost mad at the fact that you’re good at that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s gonna make waiting for that cock of yours an absolute living hell. I can already tell.”

#proud #halsin fan fic #halsin smut #halsin x original female character #halsin x ofc #halsin x oc #summer writes

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intimacyequalsdeath · 7 months

Text

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 14: Mark Hoffman (Pumpkin Spice)

My loves here we are! Day 14! Two whole weeks into Fictober! I hope you've not only enjoyed all the fics especially this smutty week but I also hope you've been enjoying October!

This man makes me absolutely feral so where as this isn't self insert at all this fic is also very much so a gift to myself from myself.

Notes: Minors DNI, Nsfw, Smut, porn with plot. No pronouns used and no description of the reader used either. Age gap and all that good stuff. Mark Hoffman gets called daddy and calls himself daddy in this. Like i said this is literally a present to myself.

"Baby, baby, baby, what did I tell you were the rules before I left this morning?" Mark tsked at you, placing his hand on your throat while looking down at you from his place standing next to the bed.

"Speak my love, use your words" He commanded when you didn't answer him.

"Y-you said I wasn't allowed to touch myself" You said peering up at him through your eyelashes. Mark smiled an almost evil grin.

"And what did you happen to do while I was at work?" He asked in a condescending tone.

You gulped trying to swallow the lump in your throat before answering him.

"I-I touched myself" You whispered, looking down at your hands. Mark put a hand under your chin and brought your head up to meet his eyes.

"What was that?" He asked again.

"I touched myself" You said louder, Immediately flinching as Mark's gaze on you hardened.

"Now my love, please would you care to tell me why you touched yourself when I specifically told you not to?" He sat down on the side of the bed with his hand still under your chin, his other hand coming up to move your hair out of your face as you kept eye contact with him.

"Because I had too Mark" you pleaded, You could tell you peaked his interest with this.

"Why did you have to darling?"

"Because you left me high and dry this morning like a dick!" You said suddenly getting mad remembering how Mark had pushed your hands off him telling you he didn't have time for sleepy morning sex and that he had to get down to the station to continue work on the jigsaw case.

Mark's hand flew up to your throat, squeezing as if reminding you what he could do if you weren't careful.

"I'd watch that fuckin' mouth of yours" He warned "You're already in hot water as it is baby" Your hands grabbed Mark's much larger one that was wrapped around your neck.

"Now if you really are that pissed at me for leaving you this morning I guess maybe I should make it up to my Baby huh?" You nodded at his question. "Use your words or you get nothing" He reminded.

'Yes, Daddy"

"Mmm That's a good baby" He removed the hand from your neck once more to run it down the side of your neck, his fingers tracing the outlines of the last love bites he had left there before the two of you had to attend a ball at the precinct.

"Have to make sure everyone knows to keep their eyes up here" He had told you as he sucked your neck as you finished doing your hair for the night.

As his hands trailed down your body he tugged on the back of your thighs to get you to lie down, He removed his shirt and stood up for a second to remove his pants keeping his boxers on for the time being before moving over to you.

You had already removed your clothing when you thought you would be safe to masturbate without Mark knowing. The only thing between Mark and your entirely naked body was your underwear you had tugged back up your legs when you realized your boyfriend had arrived back home.

Hoffman made quick work of them though, ripping them from your body and tossing the fabric onto the floor.

You had been with the officer for going on 4 years, You had met when he was assigned to your jigsaw case in particular. You had been very unlucky in becoming one of the Killers targets but was one of the lucky few to actually escape.

When you went to the police about it Hoffman was assigned to you almost as soon as you stepped through the doors of the station. Since then the two of you have been inseparable. He found you when you were at your weakest and swore he would take care of you and four years later he was still living up to that promise.

You had breathed life into the officer. Opening up parts of him even he didn't think he was capable of. I mean sure he was still knee deep in making jigsaw traps and had even selected you specifically cause he needed you to be his, but you didn't need to know that at least not yet.

Mark used his finger to caress your cheek gently as you laid underneath him in your shared bed.

"That's my doll huh?" He asked you softly, You nodded finally cracking a smile at him. He returned your smile before finally thrusting into you. You gasped at the new contact of him inside you as he wrapped a hand in your hair bringing your face to his neck as he held you.

"it's ok, this is what daddy's baby has wanted all day so this is what his baby gets" He said shushing you.

You whined as your wrapped your arms around Mark's shoulders.

"Daddy please" Mark was going painstakingly slow, as if almost teasing you as punishment for touching yourself. He chuckled at your whine.

"Aw does my baby want me to go faster?" He rasped in your ear.

You nodded into his neck, groaning as you felt him finally push fully into you. You felt as his balls rub against your bottom half as he held still for a minute.

Tired of waiting you tried to buck up into Mark from underneath him. This caused him to slightly pull out of you and look into your eyes.

"Excuse me doll? You think this is on your terms ? after what you did today?" He reprimanded you.

"Mark please! You can't do this to me" You begged him again "I'm sorry I touched myself I won't do it again besides you said you were gonna make it up to me for this morning"

"I am baby, but I can't just let you get away with touching what belongs to me, What's between your legs does not belong to you ok? It belongs to me, I'm the only one who's allowed to touch it and I sure as shit am the only one who's allowed to fuck it" He growled out pushing himself back into you as hard as he could and starting to roughly thrust.

He set a steady but hard pace and he pulled out and snapped his hips back up to yours. Tears sprung up at the corner of your eyes at the intensity in which he fucked you.

"Oh come on don't cry on me. Isn't this what you wanted?" Mark taunted from above you. His hands now gripping the sheets on either side of your head as he held himself above you.

Your eyes fell shut as you felt the tip of his cock hit against your sweet spot, brining you closer and closer to your climax. Mark brought a hand up to tap you cheek and make you open your eyes.

"Nah baby you look at me when you cum alright?" He said, eyes meeting yours.

You pushed your noses together, eyes never closing again as you felt your climax creep up in the pit of your stomach as your walls clenched around Mark's cock as it painted your walls with white. You were still seeing stars as he pulled out and collapsed next to you on the bed.

You placed your head on his chest and he brought a hand to it to caress your sweaty forehead as his lips kissed it. He used the other to bring the blanket up around the both of you before wrapping the other arm around you to hold you to him.

"You alright baby? It wasn't too much was it?" There was your Mark. A giver and taker in every sense but always with your wellbeing in mind no matter how rough he could get. You nodded.

"Yes daddy I'm fine" You told his softly, clearing starting to fall asleep as you felt his seed leak out of you. You loved that feeling.

"Mmm daddy's good baby"

"I love you daddy"

"I love you too baby, Daddy loves you more then anything"

#saw franchise #saw 2004 #saw #saw x #saw movies #mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman saw #halloween #slasher fandom #slasher x reader

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silverdynetrutherr · 1 month

Text

something that sort of irks me about fanon kerry is just how much some people miss the point of his storyline. like a lot of people seem to think that kerry just accepted johnny back into his life, and wanted to continue a relationship/friendship with him. furthermore, some people think that kerry used v to get close to johnny, but that isn’t the case.

the entire point of kerry’s storyline is that v helps kerry get over johnny. firstly, by getting his closure in ‘a like supreme’. all kerry wanted after fifty-four years of waiting was to play one last gig with johnny and put it to rest. and we KNOW for a FACT that this is all kerry wanted, because johnny is the one to ask ‘wanna do it again?’ to which kerry replies, ‘huh? no. this was enough.’

from this quote from kerry alone, we know that he didn’t want to continue his relationship with johnny, at LEAST not the way they had before. kerry doesn’t even comprehend that johnny would want that at first, and this could be because of his own ideas about how johnny feels towards him, but the ‘huh?’ indicates clearly that kerry’s intentions in doing this show was to get closure and put it to rest. and kerry likes to process things alone, we know this from when he says he needs a power nap after meeting johnny again, and on the roof of dark matter, and, when kerry leaves after johnny resigns his music career to kerry, giving him his guitar. ‘won’t play without you.’ both of them, in this moment, accept that they will never be what they were. too much time has passed and too much pain has been caused.

this leads me to my next point; being that despite kerry being able to put aside his grief for johnny, and begin to overcome it, he still struggles to overcome the feeling of inferiority. this is what he calls v for. and when kerry calls, he initially asks ‘johnny?’ and a lot of people see this as evidence that kerry is hoping for johnny, and is disappointed when it’s v, however, kerry clearly states that he doesn’t know how the situation with johnny works, and is receptive when v explains it. during the gig where v and kerry blow up the us cracks’ gear, a number of people had come to the conclusion that this was a ‘show’ for johnny, to make an example of the kind of person he was. however, i don’t think it was done with the intention of johnny seeing it, of getting johnny’s approval. however, kerry didn’t know johnny can see what v sees, so this makes that impossible from the get-go. the reason kerry did this was not for the approval of johnny, because he had put the chase for approval to rest after the last show. the reason kerry did this was less about johnny, and more about the impact johnny had left on kerry.

kerry has a ‘sore-spot’ when it comes to success, the offence and upset kerry expressed is genuine, because he believes that his success is his own, and his fame is already in a precarious situation. we know he is aware of this, because he keeps several copies of articles criticising his music around his house. kerry is sensitive, and insecure and believes that his music may not be good enough. this is because of johnny, because johnny stole the show, because johnny had convinced him he’d never make it alone. we know this because of the conversations v and kerry have at dark matter. so, the act of blowing up the van, the act of breaking into the venue, the act of threatening them with a gun, was not to impress johnny. it was an act of severe retaliation to insecurity, and his own defensiveness, caused by johnny. when kerry decides to allow us cracks to use his song, it’s a major breakthrough for him. it’s one act that is symbolic of his maturity growing.

and that was not something that johnny helped him do. it was something that v helped him do.

the conversation they have at dark matter is also important here, and i can’t remember the exact quotes, but the entire gist of the conversation is kerry discussing how he feels about success. how he feels about night city, and how he still feels like he’s in johnny’s shadow after all this time. it’s negative, it’s holding kerry back from allowing him to achieve everything he’s ever wanted, and to enjoy it. he doesn’t WANT johnny to be around him, because he WANTS to be free of the feeling of entrapment, overshadowing and inability to achieve. that is the entire point of the conversation. and in a moment, (male) v is able to stop him being afraid, to tell him, he doesn’t need to be afraid, he doesn’t need to be insecure, he doesn’t need to hold himself back. johnny is dead. kerry is at the top of the city, literally, overlooking everything else. (and all it takes is a little kiss from v in that moment to make him smile)

AAAND finally, boat drinks. literally the epitome of character development. kerry tells v about the six months he spent at sea, working in a cruise ship, where he learned what it meant to bleed ‘in service of the rich’. this memory he shares with v is about him, alone. it’s about his life and when he decided what he believed in, it’s about when he came up with his first great song, and it’s not about johnny. kerry discusses ‘life’s loops’, and tells v that they’ve inspired new songs, a whole new album, and that they’ve helped kerry overcome his fears and inhibitions.

v alone, i repeat, V ALONE, inspired kerry, and helped kerry reach maturity, and reach his full potential and creativity, so that he could move on and be an independent person. for male v, this is why he loves him. v is special to him.

it was never about johnny, it was never an attempt to keep johnny in his life. it was about getting rid of the debris johnny left in kerry’s life. and despite the fact that they had loved each other, it did not work. johnny had made his choice in 2023, and kerry had made his in 2077.

johnny chose to die, in hiding of himself, and then kerry chose to live his life, in search of himself.

i can and WILL elaborate further on ANY point that i have either mentioned, or any counterpoint

thank u

#kerry defence attorney #i hope this made sense #and ofc i like headcanons #but i think canon is too well written to just destroy kerry’s character #kerry eurodyne #kerry x v #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #silverdyne

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