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television-overload · 21 hours

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of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Oh hey, look, it's that massive story I've been working on since January! I'm so thankful to everyone who has shown interest in the concept of this fic and the little snippets I've posted. You've been more help than you know. Without that support, I don't think this would have ever gotten finished.

A special thanks to @numinousmysteries who kindly beta read for me and did a fantastic job. I wanted to make sure I got this right, and she was a great help!

And now I can't wait to share this with you all! New chapters posted daily!

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 1/34 - ink and paper

How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.

She'd never have guessed...

Find out if adoption is right for you! Visit us at 8080 Meadowlark Ln. Annapolis, MD “A Home for Every Child!”

Scully stares down at the brochure on the desk. One of many, which are half buried underneath a pile of paperwork from their current case. Certain words and phrases are circled in pen, underlined, annotated in the margins in the familiar scrawl she knows almost better than her own.

stability – less travel? change in division? discuss with Scully

loving home – ask Frohike for real estate agent #

The word “family” is circled three times.

She swallows with some difficulty, finding—to her dismay—that her hands are shaking. Mulder will be arriving any second, and here she is, frozen like a statue.

She’d never have guessed…

“Morning, partner,” his voice calls out, and she jolts in surprise. She hears the door snick shut behind him, but she can’t bring herself to turn around. With deft fingers, she pushes the brochure back under the stack of papers where she found it, only the colorful corner of the page visible.

“Morning, Mulder,” she tries, clearing her throat. It comes out strained, but she hopes he doesn’t notice. She hides her trembling hands in her lap under the desk.

He looks down at her, half amused, half concerned. “You okay? You're not getting that stomach bug that's been going around, are you?”

“I'm fine,” she answers defensively, warning him to back off. She grabs a file off the desk in front of her with a little more force than necessary, plopping it open.

‘Okayyy,’ he mouths exaggeratedly, eyebrows raised. He sits down at his desk and leafs through some papers sitting on top, arranging them into neater stacks. When he uncovers the brochures, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, hurriedly covering them with other papers and trying to act natural.

Scully thinks about letting it go and pretending she doesn’t know what he’s hiding, but she knows she won’t be able to sleep until she finds out what’s been going on in that ridiculous head of his.

She idly flips to the next page of the file in her hand, displaying a confidence she doesn’t feel in the firm set of her shoulders

“Doing some light reading, Mulder?” she asks, attempting to look disinterested.

His head shoots up, a look of alarm on his face. For a second he thinks she might be talking about something else, that she couldn’t possibly know, but one look at her throws that theory right out the window. He glances back and forth between her and the papers on the desk a few times before dropping his shoulders in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Scully, you weren’t supposed to see those,” he says, shuffling all the brochures into a pile while carefully avoiding eye contact. “I was working here late last night. I must have forgotten to put them away.” As he speaks, he opens the top drawer of his desk and shoves them inside, then takes a seat at his desk. His nose is buried in a file before she can even respond.

She watches him now. He is a curiosity, determinedly feigning concentration on a case she knows he finds disinteresting and a waste of time.

Typical.

“You're really not going to say anything?” she asks, arms crossed in front of her.

That rankles him. “What do you want me to say?” he asks, indignation boiling below the surface.

She looks at him incredulously, the file in front of her all but forgotten.

“You're thinking of adoption? When were you planning to share this with me?”

He sighs and shakes his head, pleading silently with her. “It's too soon, Scully. I didn't think you'd want to hear it yet.”

“But you're looking into it because…”

“It's just been on my mind, that's all.”

She stares at him, brows furrowed.

“Since when?”

Since when… Images flash of a life he didn’t recognize. His sister, alive and grown up. A quiet suburban neighborhood. Cancer Man living just down the street. A wife and kids, but not the right ones. It was wrong, all of it was wrong.

“A hallucinatory trip into an alternate universe tends to make you think,” he answers simply.

He’s looking at her now, deadly serious despite the joking tone. She doesn’t respond. Can’t respond.

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to bring all this up,” he continues. “I know it's a sore spot for you.”

It takes her a moment to conjure words from her mouth, her lips moving but no sound coming out. “I just wasn't expecting…”

“For all I know, this isn't even something you'd want.”

What does she say to that? Is she interested?

“I– I'm not sure. I've never really considered it before.”

He waits, his eyes assessing her for some hidden meaning, some insight into her state of mind. He gets nothing. She’s totally blank.

“Well… what do you want?” He thought the question was innocuous enough, safer territory than straight up asking her if she wants to adopt, but apparently not.

She shuts her folder, abruptly standing and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I'm going back to the crime scene,” she declares, changing the subject. “I want to see if there's anything we missed.”

“Scully…” he tries.

“Not now, Mulder.” Without even taking the time to put her coat on, she flees, leaving the door partially open in her rush to get away. Cursing under his breath, Mulder grabs his coat from its hook and hurries after her.

The elevator doors are almost all the way closed by the time he catches up, but in this case, he figures it’s worth the potential loss of a limb. He throws his hand between the closing gap in the metal doors, and it bounces back open to allow him entrance, to the extreme displeasure of one Dana Scully. He wisely stays silent in the elevator, stealing glances at her every few seconds out of the corner of his eye as they ascend. He can feel the frigid air coming off her in waves. It’s been a while since he’s seen her this annoyed with him, this eager to get away.

He won’t let her. Not this time. He’s learned from his mistakes.

In the parking garage, she's walking briskly, heels clicking on the concrete, and he has to pick up the pace to keep up with surprisingly agile little legs.

He didn’t want this confrontation. There was a reason he was keeping his research a secret. This is exactly what he was hoping to avoid, at least until the time was right to carefully drop some hints here and there. But now? There’s no carefully about it. No option to wait and let this blow over. There’s only one way out of this at this point, and unfortunately, that way is through.

He picks up the pace.

“You're the one who brought this up, Scully, I was perfectly happy throwing those brochures in my drawer and not saying a word.”

His voice echoes in the concrete parking structure, sounding harsh even to his own ears. As frustrated as he is with her, that isn’t his intent. He only wants to know what he can do to help her, how he can help her fulfill her dreams. He lets out a breath, and with it, releases his selfish frustration. She’s still walking away at a breakneck pace, and he doesn’t know how he can get her to stop and face this.

“If you want to talk about it, let's talk about it,” he says, pleading. “I can't help you if I don't know what you want. You want me to shut up, never mention the subject again?” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine, just tell me. What do you want, Scully?”

“I just want to be a mom, okay?” she yells, whirling around to face him. Her words instantly silence him, and he watches stone-faced as tears spring in her eyes. “I see all these other moms out there and think… I could do that too. Why can’t I do that too?”

Well, mission accomplished. The truth is finally out there. Part of him feels bad for pushing her, but the other part knows that it was doing her no good to keep her feelings bottled up inside to deal with by herself. He reaches out a hand, intending to comfort her, his eyes softening in sympathy.

“You could. Scully, you’d be the best mom.”

She flinches away, stepping out of his reach. “You don’t know that, Mulder. I can’t even—even my body is even telling me no. Over and over.” She resumes her brisk walk to her car, and he thinks he sees her brush angrily at her face, no doubt wiping away the evidence of the stubborn tears that have managed to escape.

He rushes to get in front of her, walking backwards so he can keep her in his sight.

“When has that ever stopped you?” he asks. “You had cancer, and you kept fighting. You’re alive today because you refused to give up when your body quit on you. What about that?” He stops abruptly, forcing her to come to a halt before she crashes into him.

There’s no way out of this, is there? Her shoulders slump in defeat.

“You saved me, Mulder,” she admits quietly, shaking her head. “You’re the one who didn’t give up. Not me. It was only because you were with me that I survived.”

This time, when she goes to walk away, he stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder. The simple touch causes her to freeze, hardly breathing, and when he steps closer, she stays. His hands slide down her shoulders, holding her securely in place to ensure that his next words come through loud and clear.

“I’m gonna be with you here on this too, I promise.” His thumbs brush back and forth on the fabric of her sleeves, for his comfort or hers, she’s not sure. “You can still be a mother, Scully. I’ll help you.”

She shakes her head, her heart feeling like it has been ripped to shreds. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He gives her a little shake for emphasis. She still won’t look at him. “You’ve kept me alive all these years, how much harder could a baby be?”

That gets a breathy chuckle from her, and her head falls to her chest. Groaning with the agony of this burden on her heart, she stops fighting it and leans into him. Without hesitation, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his embrace.

Her hand comes up to find purchase on his suit jacket, relishing in the comfort only he can provide. She’s past caring if anyone sees them like this here. Let them talk. They already do, anyway.

“Well, at least when you wake me up in the middle of the night, you’re not crying,” she speaks into his chest.

She feels him shrug, and can almost see the goofy smile she knows she put on his lips.

“Usually.”

She looks up at him with her chin on his sternum before taking a deep breath and pulling away.

“It's raining,” he says softly, glancing down at her and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “We can go back to the crime scene later.” She nods, unsure what else to say. She allows herself to be led, his ever-present hand brushing against her back as they start toward the basement.

“Adoption,” Scully mutters to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t know, Mulder. This—this is different than IVF. With that, all I was asking for was your…” her eyes dart around, looking anywhere but at him, “genetic material. This is something entirely different.”

He’s pleased she’s at least considering it, but she doesn’t get it at all, if that’s what she thinks.

“How? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, the process of getting a baby is a little different, but in the long run, the result is the same.”

She pauses, looking at him in confusion. “What– what are you saying?”

He runs a hand awkwardly through his hair, suddenly taking a unique interest in his shoes and the floor of the parking structure.

“Yeah, we probably should have talked about this before…”

“Talked about what?”

He sighs and guides her into a stairwell. It’s stuffy and poorly-lit with a flickering lightbulb, but here, there’s less of a chance they’ll be overheard.

“Look, Scully, I don’t know what you had in mind for my involvement beyond contributing to half the baby’s DNA when you first asked me to help you get pregnant,” he starts, fighting hard to meet her eyes instead of shying away. “But, I– I had hoped it would be a little more than ‘Say hi to Uncle Mulder,’ every couple of months.”

She blinks back at him, speechless.

“I’m sorry if that’s overstepping, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable with all this, I just—” He takes in a breath. “I guess I got to thinking of what it might be like to have a family again.” His bout of honesty is met with a blank stare, and his nervous smile drops. “I completely misread the situation, didn’t I?” he asks, self-loathing waiting on standby. “Got ahead of myself…”

She stops him by catching his coat sleeve. “No—uh. No, you didn’t.” She collects herself, willing herself to offer him some reassurance. Her fingers release the fabric of his coat, shifting her grasp instead to his hand. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

He glances down at where she holds tightly to him, and his lips curl into some semblance of a smile.

“I guess they might have had a point with all those communication seminars we’ve skipped, huh?”

She chuckles softly.

“I don’t think this is exactly what they had in mind…”

With a gentle tug, Mulder leads her down the stairs, committed to holding her hand as long as she’ll let him. The air is stagnant and silent, only the rhythmic echo of their shoes clicking on the concrete steps as they make their way to the bottom floor.

She’s thinking. What she knows now, it changes everything.

She had asked him to leave. Hid her grief from him as much as possible after her initial lapse into weakness when she came home with the news. She had almost kissed him, then, unsure of what else she had to live for. She knew she was hurting him by folding inward on herself in the weeks that followed, but that didn’t stop her from doing it. She was in a dark place, hardly able to see what was right in front of her. What she couldn’t see was that his hurt wasn’t just for her, born of some misguided sense of guilt or pity. It was his own, too.

“Mulder, all those months, after it failed—” There’s something like fear in her voice as she utters these words, or maybe regret.

“I was just worried about you.”

She squeezes his hand, feeling tears well in her eyes once more. “No, you were grieving like I was, and I didn’t notice. I pushed you away…”

“Dana…” He turns, a couple steps ahead of her, so for once it’s him who has to look up to meet her eyes. Her lip wobbles as she looks down at him, and he brushes his thumb tenderly over her knuckles. “You had to deal with it on your own, I understood that. I don’t blame you for anything.”

Those eyes. So open and honest and sad. She wonders how anyone could hurt him, could bear to break this man’s heart. How could she?

Choking back a sob, she falls into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding tight. His arms encircle her back, supporting her weight, and she feels herself being lifted as he goes up a step, closing the distance between them.

His hand climbs up to the back of her head, stroking her hair soothingly.

“I just wanted to be there for you,” he mumbles into her neck.

“You were, Mulder,” she gasps between bouts of tears, finding comfort in the feel of his soft hair between her fingers. “You’ve always been there.”

He pulls back, lifting his hands to cup her face and wiping away the tears he finds there with the pads of his thumbs.

“You don’t have to give an answer now,” he says, reassuring, “This is… a big commitment, I know, and I don’t want you to say yes just because I suggested it. I just wanted you to know it’s an option, and if you want to have a baby, I’m in. However you want to go about it, I’ll be as involved as you want. Just– let me know, anytime. Okay?”

He’s looking at her now, head ducked so those sad, puppy-dog eyes can get his message across.

She nods, holding tight to the wrists that so tenderly cup her face.

“Okay.”

~~~

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@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @bby-got-books @calimanc @captainsolocide @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @mulderscully @oofubad @p34chi @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @slippinmickeys @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

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hazbinhoteloc-ninlil · 2 days

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Asking about Adam;

//A.N: This was originally going to be an RP, but due to burnout, paired with a desire to move the story along I have decided to progress the plot of Ninlil’s end Via a canon Story. Please know I will be doing my best to represent @theholyone-hh as close to his character as I can. However, I will never do as well as the original Mod who runs him so if he seems a bit OOC, I do apologize. //

TW: depressive episode, feelings of worthlessness, anxiety and yearning. Clumsy attempts at comfort, maybe some bad decisions. Some realizations Because of the topics discussed this will be a 16+ fic. If you’re feeling these types of emotions please go seek out proper help.

This isn’t going to be super long, but it is gonna be a longer story, strap in folks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy my story below the cut;

Ninlil had slowly been going mad, between the time that had been spent in her cage combined with her heartbreak of being left behind while others moved on, she had fallen into a depression.

Even now she laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling well into the day, yet to eat, yet to clean herself - not that such a thing was truly needed in heaven, though it still showed a lack of her own self care - and yet say hello to her keeper Host.

The winged woman started to question if what she had done was worth it… not even her sacrifice and subsequent soul selling, before that… when she was alive. Were her actions worth it?

She was always the care taker, always the protector. And yes, those she watched over never asked her to do so, she had done it because she loved them and didn’t know how else to show it…

The things she had done, the blood she had spilled, the lives she had prematurely ended for the sake of preserving her beloved…

Was it for nothing? Did she waste her time… did she waste her life?

Her breathing turned harsh as tears ran down her cheeks. A whine lodged in her throat that she simply refused to let out…

Had she truly being abandoned by those whom she sacrificed Everything for? Was she selfish for wanting them to care a bit more and not move on so fast?

But… she wanted them to move on, she wanted them to be happy, she wanted them to find peace… why did it hurt now that they were actually doing it thanks to her sacrifice…

Was she a bad person for hoping they’d still try to save her even though she knew that it was futile and if they dared to try it could result in them getting hurt? Or worse, their very souls being destroyed?

No… no, she couldn’t be selfish… she had given up too much to waste on such self-serving wishes…

But then why did it still hurt so much?

Her breathing turned harsh as she gripped the angelic fabric over her chest, the erratic and rhythmic beating of her heart a brand against her palm. Just like the warm golden hearts gripped in her hand with the fabric were a constant reminder of what exactly she had done.

She had died for love… twice…

Did that make her honorable… or a fool?

Her other hand covered her mouth as a sob forced it’s way out and she curled up into herself, laying on her side as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror…

Her eyes weren’t hers anymore…

They were His.

Haha! Pathetic!… I’m pathetic! She thought to herself with bitterness as she tried desperately to hold back her tears.

She didn’t hear the door click open as God stepped in.

“Birdy?”

His voice came out hesitantly.

“What is wrong? What ails you?”

Now,

God was very very old, God was wise and God saw all…

But, still, he was ill-equipped at dealing with emotions. Having been alone for as long as he has, his emotional maturity is stunted, and he didn’t know exactly what humans required.

They were little things to him. God looking at humans, as humans might a smaller creature, like song birds or squirrels or even ants at times.

True, his Birdy has taught him many a valuable lesson. She has taught him about how humans utilize Free Will differently, how humans had feelings and needed to be treated like people, how children make mistakes, how pride is a powerful thing, that 10,000 years is a long time…

She was patient and a good teacher, his sweet little Birdy, a child herself compared to his vast and endless existence, but still wise and gentle.

He liked her. It’s why he kept her.

Perhaps, in his mind, he was aware that he should release her from his sculptors cabin and allow her to Roam and Experience the heavens he had created to house the mortal souls… souls like her…

But he enjoyed her company too much.

And she never asked him to leave.

So why bring it up?

Still though, as he let himself into her private room, he still thought himself ill-equipped to deal with… whatever this was.

Part of him wanted to just leave the room, but something stopped him.

“Birdy… talk to me child. Why do you weep?”

He sat on the foot of the bed, his massive height making it creak, but it held under his weight because he willed it to.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

He awkwardly - but gently - patted her back in a sorry gesture of comfort.

But for Ninlil, it was enough to know he was trying, and it made her sob harder. Not in pain, but that someone cared, and it was the very person she had sold her soul to so that he’d stop hurting the people she had been growing to love… that she did love.

It’d be hilarious if it wasn’t so sad.

She cried for 30 more minutes before the sobs finally ceased and she just breathed manually and with steady concentration to force her body and her mind to calm itself. Still curled in on herself in a vain attempt at self-comfort.

During her sobs, her head had ended up on Gods lap, his hand - still awkward- petting her hair.

“What brought this on my Birdy? What has happened?”

God asked softly, seeing that Ninlil had finally calmed.

There was a tense beat of silence before Ninlil spoke, her voice raspy and thick from her sobs.

“…. Have I been good? Did I make the right call? Was my sacrifice not in vain?”

It was God’s turn to be silent. Mulling over her words and wondering if there was a correct answer. He settled on the truth.

“You, have surpassed all expectations I had for you… You have restored my faith in humanity and for your sacrifices and good deeds, I deemed it fit to restore your divinity. You’ve been a bit more than, Good.”

He paused as he thought over his next words.

“As for the outcome of your sacrifices… I suppose it depends on what you deem as a success… Lucifer has moved on with his damned bride. They seem to have re-found their happiness, the First Man and the Second Woman are moving on and finding their peace as well. Though Adam still needs to undergo his final two remaining punishments.”

His hand jerked as Ninlil flinched beneath him, having not expected that movement from her. He expected her next words even less, though, at this point he supposed he should’ve seen it coming. She was a loyal woman after all.

The dedication she had to the original duo and the Morningstar was indeed admirable.

“Is there anyway you can leave it at the nightmares he’s already had? Maybe as payment for the tail feathers you took?” Her voice pleading.

“Pet.”

He growled, his voice low and full of warning.

“Your feathers were taken as punishment for placing your soul and my Power in danger by allowing yourself contact with a damned soul before your divinity was properly settled…”

He eyes her until she shrunk beneath his gaze, surrendering to his presence.

“And you know the deal, 3 nightmares, and then freedom. You will not sacrifice more of yourself for him. As you’ve already mentioned so many times; We are all over 10,000 years old. He can handle himself.”

He ran a hand through her hair again as if to push his order into her head, both in comfort and a mocking reminder he saw her as just that… a pet.

“Yes sir…” she conceded, knowing there was nothing she could do. Not against him. Not when he owned her soul. She felt her desire to argue his words and plead her case for her beloveds die in her chest before it was even a proper thought. His hold on her complete.

“Good girl.”

He carefully pat her head again. Praising her and rewarding her obedience.

Indeed she was a good child. He had chosen well.

“Now. What can I do to make you feel better and forget about all this, sad nonsense?”

He waved a hand frivolously at the word, as if her depression was a minor inconvenience.

To him… perhaps it was…

Ninlil sighed as she sat up and began to comb her fingers through her hair, attempting to regain her composure and her appearance.

“I need to wash, I probably look a mess… afterwards… I’d like to rest in the sun for a bit if that’s okay with you Sir.”

She looked up at him, and she wondered if she looked as pathetic as she felt. Emotionally drained, physically exhausted, eyes red and puffy, skin pale from crying.

Though if she did, God made no mention of it. Instead, he simply nodded.

“I shall allow this, I will meet you outside, do hurry.”

Ninlil nodded as she felt obedience wrap around her, urging her to hurry and obey. The side effect of her deal.

Still she took care in her task, allowing herself to be a bit pampered after her earlier violent purge of emotions.

Still though; She was outside, laying in the sun-warmed grass in under 20 minutes, God beside her, joining her. Enjoying the basking rays of golden warmth.

———————————

There they stayed for hours. Sunbathing as though it could wash the darkness within her mind away.

Though, there were certain thoughts that still plagued her. Her mind still running.

She wanted to check on Adam, she wanted to check on Lucifer and check on Eve… she wished they were the ones beside her right now, enjoying the sunshine rays. And comforting her after her cries…

But alas, God wouldn’t permit that…

Her mind still wondered, thinking to other people she missed.

Her brother… Though, god was lenient enough to grant the siblings some free time together.

Yes, seeing Conner again after seven years had brought more happiness into her life than she could remember. She felt as though her heart was gonna burst. God allowed Conner over, and allowed her to leave with him… so long as she was back before sundown.

How she had missed him…

It had given her endless relief when she had learned that her long deceased grandparents had been the ones to take Conner in. He was still with family. And even better,

He was slowly growing. He would eventually have the chance to be an adult. He wouldn’t be a child forever.

She had wept with joy upon learning that.

Her thoughts wondered agin,

To another man she loved…

To a human she had loved…

Adam…

No not That Adam…

Her Adam, the human Adam, the brilliant doctor who was full of light and life.

The man she had ended her human life to protect…

The man she had condemned herself to hell for.

Her first love…

“Sir?” She found herself speaking up.

God lazily rolled his head to look at her, having been enjoying the sun’s rays.

“Hmm?”

“May-“ She hesitated, suddenly nervous.

“Well? Spit it out Birdy.”

God rolled his eyes impatiently as he adjusted so he was lying on his back. Still enjoying the sun.

Ninlil took a deep breath and asked. “May I see someone on earth?”

God froze. Before he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“Who?”

“There was a man I left behind a little over five years ago. I loved him very much…. He’s the reason I willingly damned myself to hell. I would like to check on him. See if he’s doing okay.” Ninlil would speak a little too quickly, needing to force herself to make sure her words were slow.

God thought about it for a bit before he sighed.

“I… suppose I can grant you this. You have been good lately and I suppose you deserve a reward.”

He raised a hand and with a crackle of pure divine energy, summoned a viewing sphere that glowed even in the bright daylight.

“Well, what was the mortal’s name?”

Ninlil but her lip. “Adam…”

God froze and slowly turned to look at Ninlil and Ninlil was quick to raise her hands in defense.

“Not that Adam! This Adam was a surgeon! A very talented one! They are NOT the same man! They just happen to share the same name I promise!”

God still started at her just long enough for Ninlil’s heart to drop before he sighed and shook his head.

“Oh child, what am I gonna do with you….”

He asked her. Before he turned his body to properly face her. The glowing sphere of divine light between them. And his face very serious.

“Do you love this man?”

The question gave Ninlil a pause…

She hadn’t thought about that in a while. And even a month ago the answer would been easy.

Yes, everything she had done was for him.

The deals, the murders, the monsterzation of herself, the burial of her peace, the always going, the never resting… EVERYTHING… was for him…

Even a month ago, his face alone was the picture in her mind when she thought of the word ‘Love’…

But now, so much has happened.

Now, three other faces flashed in her mind when she thought of that word… two in the forefront…

Lucifer… and Adam…

The former angel who she died for as she had her human beloved, the former angel who made her laugh, the former angel who carried her with a shocking strength when she was too weak to move on her own…

And the First Man. Adam. The man who held her safe as she took her last breath once again, the man who begged her to stay with him even as she bled out. Who held her safe when she wept through the anniversary of her brother’s death, who made her smile and laugh again, who made her feel important and baked with her. Who reminded her what is was to feel strong, yet cared for.

She did still love her Beloved… but she didn’t just love him alone anymore… she… didn’t know how to feel…

“I… don’t know….” She found herself saying, unable to help but feel like she was betraying her beloved in that moment. Tears welling up in her eyes again.

“Birdy, i would make another Deal with you. Because seeing you hurting does not please me.”

Ninlil gulped. “What would the deal be sir?”

“If whatever you see, causes you pain, and pushes you deeper into your sadness. I will remove this mortal from your memories so that you won’t hurt from them ever again…

But, if you are pleased with what you see, than I will ensure his safety for the rest of his mortal life…. If he’s as good as you say, He will know no hardships and can focus his energy on helping others.”

He holds out a hand.

“Deal?”

Ninlil started at his hand as her thoughts raced, her eyes wide and flowing with tears that left mini rivers down her cheeks as her head struggled to wrap itself around God’s words.

He would be safe… forever safe, free from any harm that may befall him. Just as she had sacrificed everything in hopes of accomplishing…

Or,

He would be forgotten, the reason for everything she had sacrificed, the reason she had gone to hell in the first place. The reason she had suffered as she had suffered and made the choices that had shaped her as a woman… simply… gone…

Was it worth it…

Was she that curious….

‘Yes’ She decided. ‘Yes she was, she needed to know that she hadn’t died in vain… she needed to see him…”

She placed her hand in his much larger grip and squeezed.

“Deal.”

The constraints of the deal wrapped around her like chains, and she felt a twinge of fear for a bad outcome. Suddenly aware that she was currently unable to lie to the ancient being before Her.

As the deal settled, the glowing sphere began to glow impossibly brighter. And images began to dance in the shadows before becoming clear.

She saw her beloved… the human Adam…

He was smiling, talking to a patient and giving what looked like a good diagnosis. The patient, who had been holding the hand of their spouse while listening to Adam’s words burst into tears and held their loved one in a tight embrace before enthusiastically shaking Adam’s hand and offering a load of sincere, tear-filled thank you’s.

Then Adam had gone through the rest of his day, conducting surgeries, talking to patients, and reassuring an old man who didn’t have enough money for his wife’s broken wrist that if he instead paid with some fresh venison, consider the price waived.

He was always like that. Ninlil remembered, So generous and kind, becoming a doctor not for the money, but for the pure joy of making others feel better.

That desire to help people no matter what is what had attracted Ninlil to him in the first place… how she would have done anything to protect that smile.

He was good… so good.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a shock that when he ended the day, he went to his truck, and once he had slid in, and fished in his pocket and pulled out a ring…

Ninlil froze, not even daring to breathe.

She watched unblinkingly as he carefully slid that ring onto a very specific finger…

She sat in silence as she watched him drive home listening to the music she had long associated with him…

And she moved not even a muscle as she watched him eventually pull into a driveway, into a garage, only to step out and walk into his house.

And into the arms of a woman wearing a matching ring…

A breath left Ninlil lungs as she still continued to stare at the seeing sphere.

He had gotten married, he had moved on…

Of course he had, she reminded herself. It’s been over five years…

She watched as the couple chatted and laughed, sitting down to eat dinner before cleaning up together and dancing in the living room…

It was a picture of a perfect romance… homely, domestic and innocent…

It was everything Ninlil has never had… and everything she had wanted…

Everything she secretly wished to still eventually have one day.

When they settled in the couch to watch some movie, Ninlil found herself reaching to touch the sphere, murmuring to herself. Her eyes still fixed in the screen as tears continued to roll down her cheeks.

“He got married… he’s safe, he’s happy, he moved on… I…” She smiled, letting out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t die for nothing….”

She watched them for a few more minutes, fixated on their smiles and laughter… zoned in on their true happiness.

But when they decided to share a kiss and retreat to their bedroom, God shut down the sphere.

“Are you satisfied with what you saw my Birdy?”

Ninlil nodded, her eyes still on where the sphere was.

“I am…” Her voice broke, but not with anguish. With relief.

God nodded and carefully picked Ninlil up. The winged woman letting him. Abruptly becoming aware that the sun had set while she was focused on the visions within the sphere.

God took her inside and sat her on the crafting table before taking his own seat and grabbing a chunk of clay.

“True to my promise, I will make sure that mortal remains safe.”

He said as he shaped the clay in his hands into a great golden eagle. Molding the clay with the knowledge and skill of a master. The eagle as detailed as the actually thing before he gave it a spark and breathed life into it, making it become the actual thing and sending it to earth.

“He shall never know another day of hardship, not so long as he remains pure intentioned.”

“Thank you sir.” Ninlil responded, bowing her head in obedience. “You don’t realize how much I appreciate your generosity.”

He waved off her words with a huff. But was happy she was no longer crying as she had been before. Those sounds weren’t pleasant to him.

He kept his Birdy by his side, where they talked and learned from each other well into the night before he eventually retired into his room, and Ninlil was close behind to do the same.

As she laid in her bed, she stared at the ceiling and thought about what she had seen today.

Adam was safe, happy, and moved on… her chest hurt a bit at the thought, but more overwhelmingly, she was genuinely happy her beloved still wasn’t mourning a dead woman.

5 years… 5 years was long enough to mourn. He deserved this happiness.

Her mind filled with a sense of peace as she gave her blessing.

“May your cup always be full, your heart happy, your mind peaceful, and your wallet forever filled with prosperity, I loved you Adam…” she whispered as she stared at the ceiling in the privacy of her room. “But you’re no longer mine…My heart releases you. I wish you all the best of love and luck my former beloved”

She sighed and closed her eyes as other faces filled her mind…

How she missed them… how she wanted to be back in their arms…

In her mind, in her room, in the depth of the night. Ninlil began to formulate a plan. The last semblance of her whole, un-splintered mind grasping onto this hope. Given a purpose once more, she rattled against the chains of complacency, the Watchdog opening her eyes again.

She had to get back to them…

The only thing left to figure out was How?

————————————————

Authors note; THIS TOOK ME TWO DAYS! But it’s not proofread, please forgive any spelling errors! I hope you enjoyed!

Tagging list:

@hunters-trashblog @sinner-master-adam @chaoticmoron @rayhandle @first--woman @theholyone-hh @green-static @stampy-offical @lolmerfolk @god-the-lord

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #ninlil #hazbin oc #hazbin #Hazbin hotel OC Ninlil #Hazbin Hotel God #lore #cannon

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simgerale · 1 month

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me after attempting to get back into sims and realizing i had a lot more to do than play the game

#hi everyone #I’m going around hugging you all #okay now that we are gathered here today #i will simply acknowledge that i have been gone for a very long time and then also acknowledge that maybe it was for the best #i relied on sims to be my only creative activity even if i tried to write a book at the same time #and also. i prioritized sims over real life responsibilities. that’s just a deadly combination lol #but I recently noticed I just replaced sims with Netflix. with YouTube. with anything that gave me quick dopamine #literally became addicted in a sense. still am but I’ve been cut cold turkey from most everything #I get off work and go. okay I’ve done the dishes and the laundry……..I could read or write or bake….#I try to write and sometimes i get a good hour #then I read for a few hours and then get tired of it #and I made cookies Tuesday so I’m waiting for those to be gone before baking again #I’m just so pitiful that I feel BORED and don’t know what to do #so I said….. okay what if I do sims for an hour.#I downloaded some new cc Tuesday and tried to play yesterday #y’all ……………….. I can’t find the energy anymore to set up elaborate scenes and pose my sims and plan posts #I said wow… this is boring without my intervention and fake story #I said wow…….. all this for what? for tumblr? yes I created cool things and provided joy. but is that inherintly important compared to my #own joy? my own everyday activities I should be doing?#y’all I do not leave the house unless we got out to eat or shop or travel to our parents #.. I have little desire to. I’m trying to find that desire #but my husband is busy with grad school and work and I don’t want to do anything by myself #I’ve found myself in one heck of a slump #I didn’t want to be human for awhile. just had no desires no interests no ambitions #I was slacking off SO HARD at work. I just had no drive to do well #I’m still working on it. I’m still trying to get caught up. I’m still trying to force myself to move every day.#but I am struggling y’all. and I can tell you that sims… sims isn’t helping rn but I want it to so bad. I want to get back into it #I didn’t mean to disappear on everyone. I got married and then life got busy and then I fell into this hole of nothing #I didn’t even WANT to crawl my way out. but my husband has helped a lot. I feel like such a child!!!!#I reached max tags. 🙃 bye love you all. till next time

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gyudons · 7 months

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despicable

updates as of 22 oct

Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotes’ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.

“You don’t really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but there’s some people who took some positive things from it,” Dermott said. “That’s kind of what I’m looking to impact.

“You want to have everyone feel included and that’s something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. It’s not like I just just jumped on this train. It’s something that I’ve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.”

“I won’t lie,” said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. “From the outside, it’s easy to see that I’m putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but I’d love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.

“I don’t want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when it’s their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. I’m not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but we’re going to find better ways to do it.”

As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t shed tears about this on multiple occasions,” he said. “So yeah, it’s something I’m definitely very passionate about.

“I’ve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that there’s some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesn’t take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.

“I’ve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and it’s because of a system that maybe no one’s intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until you’ve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, it’s tough to kind of take steps.”

It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.

“It’s not like I’m shutting up and going away,” he said. “I know more questions are going to be coming. We’re just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. That’s the thing. It’s gay pride that we’re talking about, but it could be men’s health. It could be any war. It’s just wanting world peace. Everyone’s got to love each other a little bit more.

“Like my parents said growing up, ‘How awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?’ That’s what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy that’s having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, that’s going to have an effect on you.

“With how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that it’s not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.”

#nhl #pride #lgbt #gay #queer #hockey

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drdemonprince · 7 months

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If you’ve never been all that disobedient before, you can and should start really, really small. For example, you can wear the slightly revealing or gloriously trashy-looking garment that makes your mom roll her eyes and sigh despondently every time she sees you put it on. You will feel judged and disapproved of when you put it on, but that is fine. Your goal is to sit with the uncomfortable feelings and continue with your desired behavior anyway. Saunter down the steps in that highlighter-yellow Garfield crop top with your chest hair flowing over the neckline, and harness as much courage as you can muster. It’s okay if you feel like a beacon of sin. Just keep it moving. Your emotions are not the target here. Your behavior is. You can feel however you are feeling in the moment so long as you keep acting like you’re free. Do you have a favorite TV show that a partner or roommate vocally hates? Try watching that show around them without apologizing or defensively joining them in mocking the program. At first, you probably won’t be able to enjoy the show while in their presence. You’ll feel self-conscious about everything they find annoying or cringe-inducing about the show, and so focused on their reactions that you can’t relax. That’s okay. Allow those feelings of embarrassment and guilt to exist and pass through you without giving up. In time, you will be able to ignore these reactions more, and enjoy the activity. You want to see the needle of discomfort moving down just a little, like Link’s body temperature meter in Tears of the Kingdom when he puts on a breathable outfit in a hot climate. You’re not gonna go from roiling hot to frosty cold in an instant. But after a certain point, you won’t be actively in pain anymore. Things are just gonna slowly suck less, bit by bit, until they are finally okay. That’s true of most major life adjustments, I find. Probably the best way to develop self-advocacy skills while growing in your distress tolerance is simply by telling other people no. Do this without explanation or hedging. Nitpicky aunt wants to hear all about your dating life? “No, I don’t want to talk about that.” Unreliable ex-friend wants you to do them the tiny favor of moving their entire home gymnasium into a new third story walk-up? “No, I’m not available.” Manipulative shift supervisor wants to cajole you into sticking around for another three hours to close? “No.” As many advice columnists smarter than me have already intoned, “no” is a complete sentence. “No” requires no explanation. “No” is not subject to debate. “No” can be repeated over and over like a broken record if a disrespectful person acts like they can’t hear it. And you can walk away at any time to make your “no” physical and impossible to argue with, when someone has proven they don’t respect your boundaries.

you can read or listen to the full piece for free here

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kachowder · 2 months

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Thinking about a arranged marriage, in which darling denies their spouse any opportunity to touch them. For reader, they have no reason to believe this would ever be a equal relationship. They believed, if they serviced their spouse well, and played the part of a dutiful partner, they would be able to lead a comfortable life without any unnecessary drama or hurt feelings on their end.

Of course they didn’t take into account how absolutely obsessed their spouse is with them, and how much pain their in each time their denied the chance to touch their darling.

Every intimate act between the couple, the darling does all the work. Weather it be quick services with their mouth or body, as soon as their spouse finishes the darling hops off and makes their way back to their room to take care of their own needs or read a new book. And their spouse is fucking devastated each and every time.

Their fingers grip their darlings shoulder or hair, savoring that moment of contact before their orgasm hits and the warmth of their love leaves them for the remainder of the night. No aftercare, no kisses, and worst of all, they don’t get to see their darling cum. Ever.

“Darling…? If it’s not too much to ask..”

“Yes my love?”

And they’d shiver at the hollow endearment.

“Well..perhaps we could engage in some more intimacy tonight…? I could-“

“Ah.” And their darling would pause, bringing a hand to rub their jaw tenderly. “Well, my jaw is still a little sore from last time, but if you wish I can certainly help you again.”

“N..No..I mean, I could..I could take care of you…tonight…”

“Oh. That won’t be necessary my dear.”

And god how their heart fucking breaks at that, brows furrowing nervously as they try to resist the temptation to fall to their knees and beg. Beg to taste their darlings flesh and finally feel their lips pressed against their own. Their eyes nearly well with tears, the untamed desire burning them to the core. Their darling was so cruel to them.

“But I insist, I can-“

“Do not worry my love. I’ll take care of you tonight so you won’t be so stressed for your meeting tomorrow. Or if you’d like I could find you more suitable company for the night?”

The repulsion in their body would nearly make their stomach swell with nausea at the mere idea of laying in bed with another that wasn’t their beloved darling.

“I’m…No thank you, my love.”

And you, the silly little darling won’t understand why your spouse seems so disheartened. You’d been the perfect partner, anyone’s dream. You kept to yourself, did what you were asked. They never had to care for you needs or wants beyond your allowance and the occasional outing.

You could admit you were married to a very attractive and respectable figure. Known for their kindness and intelligence. You considered yourself lucky as to deal with someone so agreeable.

And there were times you wished for a warm body besides yours in the dead of night. Someone to lay upon after you’ve both been spent.

But that vulnerability was too scary for yourself. Fear that your heart would hurt more if you let yourself feel the pain of neglect after. So, this arrangement you’d crafted for yourself would have to do.

Well, until the night you’d found your depraved lovers head buried between your thighs, moaning like a starved fool.

What a sight to awaken too.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x oc #x reader #x gender neutral reader

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yuuuhiii · 3 months

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wanna go for a ride ?

minors this is not for you!

includes : riding Yuuta’s washboard abs :P, 1.2k words, little overstimulation, making out and just smut in general;D , Yuuta’s a little tease mwhahaha and kinda sub reader

Yuuta was more of a giver than reciever. He adored giving you gifts and affection.

But his favorite thing in the world was pleasuring you.

He just loved your fucked out look when he’d be blowing your back out or even better, eating you out. The way your eyes would cross or roll back was always a sight for sore eyes.

Your orgasms and the noises he pulled from you were all he needed to pleasure himself. Giving that Yuuta was like this, he always fed into your fantasies.

You wanted to try something new in the bedroom? He was all for it. If it meant you’d be happy and well taken care of he’d do anything for you.

Even though Yuuta has never judged you for your new ways to spice things up in the bedroom it was still embarrassing to mention things to him.

Like the time you mentioned to sit on his face was definitely a night to remember. Not just because of how fucked out he left you but the whole conversation before hand.

Your boyfriend was just so sweet you almost feel like you’re tainting his bashful and pure personality with your lewd desires.

However he was just as filthy as you.

You sat in your living room in boredom as you waited for him to get home. He had gone to train with Inumaki and Panda, letting you know that he was on his way back.

Although throughout his time there you playfully asked for a picture of him. You were sent a picture of your boyfriend with no shirt on, chasing around panda who had stolen said shirt, as Inumaki took a selfie.

He texted, ‘your boyfriend is a little busy.’ You would be laughing it off but when you zoom in you softly gasp at the sight of Yuuta.

He’s drenched in sweat, his toned body on full display. Maybe it’s the lighting or the sweat but his abs looked so rough, so sturdy.

Absentmindedly your thighs clench, chewing on your lip at the sight. Your thoughts were blowing through a mile a minute.

It’s not like you never saw his bare body before, your hands would always find his abs when he was on top of you or you were sucking him off. And they were hard, whenever they clenched beneath your fingertips.

You squirm in your panties, already feeling yourself growing wet at the all these thoughts. You let out a shuddering breath and your boyfriend walks in through the door, causing you to quickly exit out of the picture. God only knows how long you’ve been staring at it.

“Hi baby!” He quips walking over to you and planting a kiss on your temple.

“I’m gonna shower, then we can watch our tv show ok?”

You nod, blinking at the tv in front of you. Yuuta comes out of the shower soon enough and you haven’t been paying attention to the show in front of you at all. You were definitely going to have to watch back.

“Babe?” You snap out of it, gazing up at your boyfriend as his face laces with concern. His big hand drapes over your thigh, rubbing it comfortingly.

“Are you okay?” He tilts his head and you gulp.

You avert your eyes, already growing embarrassed. Yuuta always found your flushed state cute. The way your cheeks turned pink and your cheeks puffed out just a little. He grabs your chin, tilting it up to face him.

“What’s wrong hm?” His big blue eyes blinking at you. You wanted to voice your new idea, but you felt bad that he had already took a shower, not wanting to dirty your boyfriend.

“Nothing s’fine Yuu.” You smile, turning back to the tv.

He narrows his eyes, his lips teasingly moving to your neck, placing a playful chomp on your skin. You squeal your hands shooting up to his shoulders.

“Dont lie to me.” He says almost as a warning and he can feel your whole body exceeding with heat.

“Um I was just thinking about something.” You mumble and his elbows move to rest on the sides of your hips, his lips placing kisses down your stomach. You squirm and he smirks, peeking his head from under your shirt to look back at you.

“What were you thinking about?” He says a little too innocently, you whine, staring at the ceiling.

“Come on tell me please?” You cave at his words, with a shaky sigh you tell him.

“I-I wanna ride your abs.” You cover your face and he perks up.

“L-Like you know when you made me grind on your thigh? I wanna do that with your abs.” You ramble out and fuck.

He’s already growing hard at the thought of you on top of him.

“We can do that.” He smiles, standing up and reaching for your hand. You shyly take it as he leads you to the bedroom.

He walks backwards as his legs hit the edge of the bed, sitting down. He pulls you on top of him but not without connecting your lips first.

They moved together so perfectly, he knew you were made just for him. His hands glide down your body, his hand rubbing you through your already soaked panties.

You moan, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“Yuu.” You whine and he smirks against your neck. Sucking and biting, claiming you as his.

“You’re so wet honey. Have you been thinking about this the whole time?” You nod dumbly, already grinding down against his hand.

“My poor baby, look at you hump my hand. Thought you wanted to get off on my abs?” He teases and you whine.

“I do!”

Your hands move to rip off his t-shirt, and moves to pull your panties down. He’s laid against the bed now, big hands sliding along your waist, guiding you up and over his abdomen.

Your eyes are lidded with lust, your chest heaving. Your hands shoot out on his chest, gliding your folds right against his toned stomach.

You gasp, juices coating his whole stomach. Yuuta watches you closely, you’re already shaking, small whines and moans leaving you as you get off on him.

“God you’re so pretty, so warm too.” He praises and you whine.

“Yuu help me please.” You pout as your thighs begin to burn.

“Of course baby.” He grins sitting up, you gasp at how much harder they felt, giving your clit the perfect pressure.

“O-Oh my god!” You moan loudly, shoving your face in his neck. You lick and suck and he hisses, almost growling as he moves you faster against him.

“Y-Yuu so close..” You moan in his ear.

“That’s good, cum for me like the good girl you are yea?” He whispers in your ear and when the words leave his mouth he’s flexing his abs. You’re thrashing in his arms as he grinds you down harder and faster.

“F-Fuck!” You squeal your high washing over you in an instant.

Your juices shoot out and everywhere on his stomach, coating the bed and his pants. Yuuta is overstimulating you at this point, feeling your clit spasm against his stomach. You drool against his shoulder, going limp in his arms.

He pulls you off of him, setting you up on the bed. Your eyes are almost closed and he grinds his hard on against your thigh.

“You can go for one more round right baby?” He whispers in your ear, kissing and nibbling it.

Yuuta loved pleasuring you a little too much.

Can you blame him though?

He just wants to make his sweet girl feel good♡.

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daddyricsdoll · 2 months

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Vanilla? ✭ Oscar Piastri

Summary: It's always the quiet ones that are the freakiest. But that wasn't what every other driver on the grid thought as they teased Oscar and you for being too innocent to know anything beyond vanilla sex. So when you guys didn't put up a fight, they figured they were right... until someone was lucky enough to see you and Oscar on the other end of the spectrum of "plain sex".

Warnings: not vanilla sex! fingering, oral (male receiving), bondage (hands tied together), spreader bar (if that even what it’s called), unprotected sex, rough because how else would you have it? Gagging and deep-throating Oscar’s huge dick 😩

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Oscar is the man who makes me wanna wake up in the morning and I love it!! I'm so obsessed with him it's making me go insane, but if I'm going insane it's fine because I'm going insane over him. Everything about him is beautiful and I wanna call him pretty and gorgeous and watch as he blushes. Then ride him and take control of him until he wants to teach me lesson and makes me pass out. (I’m just a girl) Based off of this request.

“Oscar, how would you say relationships outside of F1 have helped you grow in this sport as a driver and as a person. If they had an impact, and if not then why?” Oscar’s PR manager testing questions on him, posing as one of the many journalists trying to break Oscar’s wall that he’s been perfect at keeping up so far. He finds it amusing that they have so much interest in his life, only encouraging him to keep his words to a minimum. Well as long as you don’t come up– his cheeks immediately flush and he starts every sentence with “my girlfriend” before he looks at others and silently begs them to say something to shut him up.

“Well, everyone’s been supportive of my career. Which only makes me want to do my best, and better than that.” Keeping a straight face as he answers until he looks at you beside him then Lando with a proud grin on his face.

“Who’s everyone…? Your girlfriend?” Lando’s voice teases, like every schoolgirl talking about their friend's crush.

“I- yeah. She does a lot for me, helps me let off steam before and after races, she also-”

“Let off steam, huh? Is my Oscar making his girlfriend cum to let off steam?” Lando’s mouth wide open, making an ‘o’ shape. Both you and Oscar have mixed emotions– heat coursing through you remembering just this morning, but also shock from Lando’s unhinged question.

“You’d be surprised?” Oscar’s answer broad, but you knew. Letting Lando believe that Oscar lets you cum, when his favourite thing is edging you until tears roll down your face.

“Oscar, you probably just learnt what a clit is.” Lando having nothing better to do than tease him as his pale cheeks turn pink.

“Believe whatever makes you happy.” Oscar shutting down the conversation before he reveals too much, a little smile on his lips as he chuckles and moves his hand further up your thigh.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

It wasn’t just Lando who would have a say about you and Oscar’s sexual life, but any driver who happened to walk into the conversation at the perfect time.

“Oh yeah, Oscar you’re vanilla.” His fellow Australian, Daniel Ricciardo, says. Joining them on their walk to wherever they all had to be next.

“Well actually I think Oscar is a little more than vanilla. He’s vanilla but not vanilla.” Logan pops in too.

“No. Oscar is sooo vanilla. Like he’s too scared to choke his girlfriend because she’ll die and he’s never marked her so she knows she’s his.” Lando expresses his words with so much passion it makes Oscar roll his eyes but know exactly what Lando’s doing when their hotel rooms are beside each other and he’s invited a girl over.

“Wow. Calm down Lando, I think we learnt a little bit more from you than Oscar. You definitely need a girlfriend.” Daniel spoke the words everyone was thinking. Letting Oscar finally breathe and have all the attention over to Lando and his desires.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

“Fuck, I needed you.” Oscar groans out, thrusting himself ever deeper into your mouth. “Talking ‘bout how vanilla we are. But look at us.” The position you were in was unimaginable. You lay on your back, head on the edge of the sofa as Oscar rammed into your mouth with his fingers opening you wide and making you cum. But still, that wasn’t enough, your hands tied together and a spreading bar made sure your legs couldn’t be shut, always ready for Oscar, but with a blindfold over your eyes how would you know? Each of your moans were muffled by his cock and as one of his hands played with your clit the other toyed with your nipple.

Blood rushed to your head from this position and it filled in for the loss of his hand around your neck. Oscar pounded into you, his dick making you gag as you deepthroated him. An explosion of fireworks inside of you as he continued making you cum, a loud scream trying it’s best to flee your puffy lips, but Oscar couldn’t help but enjoy hearing you struggle to make out any coherent sounds because of his cock.

By now it was impossible to remember the amount of times he had made you release. From his mouth, fingers and dick, all you did know was that that number was only going to increase.

Each of his moves were so intense, Oscar had you spellbound. Unable to notice anything other than him. Well that was until he pounded himself as deep as he could into your mouth and then stopped. Everything went silent.

“Oh fuck! Oscar?!” Those words certainly didn’t come out of your mouth, and when you realised who did say that, oh you couldn’t have been more embarrassed, but somehow aroused. Seconds later the door finally shut, and you could only think about the uncensored view Lando had of the both of you.

“Fuck, I’ll deal with him later. But for now…you need to cum.” Pulling out of your swollen mouth and grabbing you off the couch to lay your shamelessly sinful body on the floor. Oscar doesn’t take his time, manhandling your legs so your feet are nearly inline with your head and then making your arms keep them back by going in front of the spreader bar.

Leaving your pussy so exposed and vulnerable that Oscar could do whatever he liked between those drenched folds. It was always a gamble with Oscar, sometimes he’d take his time to tease you, others he wouldn’t even give you time to catch breath. This was just as unpredictable as others, by now you would either be covered in your own tears from his edging or on the verge of passing out because you could feel him in your throat after coming in you repeatedly.

You felt less of an advantage, not even being able to lay eyes on him, so you listened to your own heavy breathing until he touched you again. Fingers going between your folds and spreading them apart with his index and ring finger. Lightly teasing you with his middle one. “Looks like you’ve had enough today huh? Or can you take one more?”

You nod your head as an answer, but it’s never enough as he asks you for words.

“Y-yes. I can take more.” You force out between breaths, in shock of how you even managed to say those words.

“Oh really? Well that’s great.” Oscar holds your pliant body up even further and then makes a swift move of ramming himself deep inside of you. Once again it pulled all of the oxygen from your lungs and the stretch from the position couldn’t be compared to the stretch from his cock. You couldn’t complain as he thrusted in again and hit your g-spot. Bringing more tears to your red eyes.

Grunts and groans slipping past his lips and making his actions such a godly sensation.

Oscar pounds himself into you with no mercy, finding pleasure in your moans and cries. You wish to hold him, dig your fingers into his shoulders and mark his back. Adorn his pale skin in love bites and make his lips swollen. Thinking about the way his body flexes with every thrust and how divine he would look from this position that you’ve been in many times but each new one has a different effect.

“What’d you think Lando’s telling them?” Oscar grips your thighs tighter–fingers certainly making bruises– keeping you in place as he vigorously rams inside of your overstimulated pussy. Never losing pattern or momentum.

“You think he’s telling them about how you took me so well? Your hands tied up? And how fucking good you looked between my legs.” Each of Oscar’s words having such an effect on you it could've been a trick of hypnotism. Your legs shaking and lips parted as you came. Oscar savoured the beautiful sounds leaving your mouth and he worked harder to fuck your high out and bring his in.

You clenched around him, forcing a moan to finally leave his lips and bless your ears. Oscar spasms and releases inside of you. Pushing himself so deep and his cum even deeper. He thrusts a few more times, easing both of you out and spreading his cum inside your walls. Oscar sits in you for a while before pulling out. “Fuck, that was so. Fucking. Good.” He starts untying you and helping you come undone from all of the restraints. Letting you lay flat on the floor as he did all the work.

“I would’ve been in you for hours if he didn’t come in. Can’t imagine what he said to them”

Oscar crawls up your body and plants a kiss on your lips.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

Finally leaving Oscar’s room you both didn’t know what to expect. Well definitely not drivers surrounding a small table as Lando spoke to them all with hand actions and his face even worse.

“Y’know vanilla isn’t even that bad. But wow Piastri, I didn’t think that.” Daniel brings all the attention to you two. Every driver turned their head with a series of reactions on their faces.

“You are freaky Oscar.” Logan couldn’t hold back and somehow Fernando was there to agree with him.

“I have to tell Charles! Now I know what you two do.” Pierre smirks, making you blush and look at the ground.

“Well I guess I was wrong, but Oscar why didn’t you tell me you sneaky boy. Because then I had to see it.”

“It seemed like you wanted to join.”

“No I-”

“The way you’re speaking about Lando, it seemed like you wanted to join.” Daniel once again kind of saving Oscar from these unfortunate topics.

“What? Guys this is about Oscar and how freaky he is with his girlfriend!”

“If you want to join, just ask.” You finally speak, teasing Lando and watching the way his face changes.

“Oh you guys are so not vanilla!”

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sweet-as-an-angel · 4 months

Text

MW Reaction to You Taking the BDSM Test

Warnings: Implied Smut, MW Characters Being Down Bad & Feral, Mean! MW, Rough! MW, Dominant! MW, Submissive! MW, Teasing, Petnames, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Ghost

His laugh is gruff from over your shoulder. A glower, if you listen closely enough. His hands, rough and calloused with the weight of his atrocities, clamp down on your shoulders. He squeezes them. Tight. Tighter.

“You don’t need a test to find out what you’re into, Love.”

He stands closer. From your position on the couch, you can feel something hard pressing between your shoulder blades. He rolls against you, his grip tightening. You whimper, wince, and he lets go a hum.

His hands drop from your shoulders to the front of your shirt. There, he grips the seam and rips it open. You jump, gasping, the buttons flying off into god-knows where — corners of the room, pinging off furniture.

His hands are on your chest, kneading, needing. He’s rough. He needs you now — he can’t even stop to remember to be gentle.

“I can do that,” he lowers his lips to your ear. His breath is hot.

“And more.”

König

König had sat with you while you took the test, curious to see what you’d choose — what your heart truly desired.

Of course, despite how close the two of you were, you did try to retain what little of your dignity you could by choosing answers that didn’t make you look insane. Or nymphomanic.

Little did you know that König could see right through you, his lips stretching into a smile whenever he saw your fingers itching to choose the highest values for kinks he absolutely knew you had (whether you were aware of his knowing or not).

When the test was over and you got your results, you thought you’d walked it. “See?” You showed your results to König. “Told you I wasn’t into anything—“ you searched for the term he’d used. “Extreme.”

“Oh, Maus,” König said, almost growling. Purring, perhaps. His eyes were narrowed, feline. “We both know that’s not true.”

König took your phone and placed it somewhere out of your reach. Frozen with anticipation, you gave no fight as König took you by your shoulders and laid you down, pressing you into the floor. He brought his thighs over you, caged you beneath him. His hands either side of your head, he smiled.

“You needn’t be evasive with me, Darling.” His hips dipped down. Something hard pressed against your abdomen. König’s eye twitched. ”Now then, let’s see how many of your answers were true, shall we?”

Soap

Johnny looks at you with what you could only construe as confidence. A challenge. You could feel the sly remark creeping up his throat as you tried to explain away the results of your test, trying not to paint yourself as someone whose answers suited them a little too well.

“Oh aye, Bonnie — I believe you,” came Johnny. With all the genuity in the world. “I just don’t think you do.”

When you gave him a queer look, his smile grew.

“What I’m sayin’ is you know there’s more to sex than that test’ll have you believe.”

Johnny shifted closer to you, eye-level with you. His hand came up to your chin, taking it between his fingers. He held you there.

“And I’d be more than happy to show ya what you’re missing out on.”

Valeria

“Looks like mi Cariño’s had a little too much screen time.”

She’s on you before you can even escape to your lock screen, a viper-strike hand plucking your phone from your grip and throwing it over Valeria’s shoulder. It cracks, somewhere, but her frame is all you can see as she pushes you to the floor.

“Seems like you’ve forgotten your place,” she grunts as she forces you to the ground, watching you fall flat on your backside. The carpet is enough to cushion your fall, but there isn’t a material in the known universe that can withstand the fire in Valeria’s eyes.

“Seems to me that you need to be reminded what you like.” Valeria bites her lip, coming to stand over you. Her shadow roves over you, almost as if to grope you, feel you.

She brings her boot onto your chest. Keeps you down.

“And where you like it.”

Price

“So you think I’m vanilla, Hm?” Price’s voice carried a weight you were not unfamiliar with, but the way in which he spoke suggested something unknown. His ankle sat atop his knee, arms crossed over his chest.

You’d gotten him to take the BDSM Test — “For science!” you’d told him. And, to nobody’s surprise, John’s results had come back relatively tame. Yours, however, were a different story.

John leaned back in his chair, his cigar lying in the ashtray, embers fading.

“Why don’t you come over here,” John said, voice low. He spread his legs, patted the expanse of his covered thigh. His eyes glinted with all the light of a black mirror.

“And teach this old dog some new tricks.”

Horangi

Hong-jin had seen your results by accident and had decided that teasing you about it would provide him with enough of a distraction to stop himself from salivating at the possibilities they opened.

Sure, it started off tame. The odd comment here and there about you seeming to be ‘tied up’ with whatever task you were doing, that you were doing such a good job of completing your work, etc.

Anything to get you hot under the collar.

And, luckily for Hong-jin, it worked. You came to him, frustrated and very much in need of relief.

Hong-Jin hummed, putting you on his lap. He ground his thigh between your legs, calling you his “Good little pet — behaving so well for me.”

His eyes almost seem to glimmer as he tells you how much he should reward you for being able to hold out for so long. Something to the tune of an oddly specific interest you knew you’d never told him. But that’s alright; your scores told him everything he needed to know.

Alejandro

He was NOT expecting the answers you got on your BDSM test. And you weren’t fully prepared for what you found on his.

Yes, Alejandro leans towards taking the dominant role in bed. Sure, not all the time, but enough that one look at the two of you could definitively conclude which of you wore the pants in bed.

Which, until tonight, neither of you had questioned.

“You know, Corazón,” came Alejandro. He sat beside you, not looking away from the TV. “It couldn’t hurt to…test some of our weaker areas.”

You looked at him, eyebrow raised. Then, it clicked.

“Oh,” you said, leaning closer, smiling. Knowing. Alejandro looked down at you. You could see him biting back a wide grin.

That night was spent with Alejandro bottoming while you went to town making him cry, whimper and beg for more.

Rodolfo

You’d assumed that Rodolfo’s results would be, at most, rather banal. In spite of his military background, he was gentle — loving — when it was just you, him and the late hours of the night.

So, when you saw his results and discovered that, oh you’re kind of depraved, actually (in a loving, non-judgemental way; you just weren’t expecting how much his results told you he was into), you wanted to test Rudy’s limits.

A whole day of teasing, complete with a healthy side of blue-balling, had, eventually, caused Rudy to grab you and drag you into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it. He threw you to the bed, his strength masked by his lamb-like disposition.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said. He stood over you, arms crossed over his chest. “And I know why you’re doing it. You’re trying to make me cave — trying to get me to ruin you.”

You couldn’t have put it better yourself. But he could. He approached you, came down to your level, crawling over the bed. You backed up until you hit the headboard (for the first of many times, you suspected), and Rudy, with a dark glint in his eye, gripped the headboard behind you, trapping you.

“Trust me, Amour,” he said, bringing his face level with yours, his voice low. “With the way you’re acting, you’ll be lucky if there’s anything left of you to ruin by the time I’m done with you.”

Graves

Bless your cotton socks — you’d forgotten to close the tab on Graves’ phone that had your results splashed across it. Hence, Phillip was having a good old laugh about it now in the confines of his office. Though, the longer he studied your results, the stronger the throbbing between his legs became.

Of course, he sought you out. And of course, he made now secret of your faux pas. And, of course, you tried to explain it away. ‘I took it for fun’, ‘It was for a laugh’, ‘I didn’t t think you’d find it—‘

“Ah, there we go. The truth, coveted as it is,” said Graves, smiling from ear to ear. He stepped over the threshold of your bedroom, backing you up against the edge of the bed. He kicked the door shut behind him. No escape.

“Now,” he drawled, approaching you. “You’re gonna show me exactly what you’re into, where you like it,” He stood chest-to-chest with you now, watching you lose your balance as you fell back onto the bed. He all but pounced on you, taking your wrists and pressing them into the mattress.

His eyes were ablaze with a lustful vengeance as he pressed down on you. Into you.

“Or I’m gonna fuck it outta ya.”

Gaz

“Didn’t know you were into…” Gaz squinted, looking over your results from over your shoulder. He went quiet.

“Oh…” From the corner of your eye, you saw his face turn pink. Then red. He cleared his throat and took a step back.

“Y-yes, well— uh— that’s a very…colourful scorecard you have there!”

Smiling, a hint of mirth in your eyes, you turned to him. You could see he was nursing a rather pressing, growing problem, and you sought to relieve him of it.

“How about you come and help me make it a bit more colourful, hm?”

At that, Gaz’s eyes widened. His tongue tied as he tried to form words — a word — anything !

Your smile grew. So did Gaz. “Oh, come on, Gaz! Big military man like you scared of a little fun?”

Let’s just say, Gaz also found himself taking the test shortly after you’d ruined him.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

3K notes · View notes

gandreida · 1 year

Text

man it is so hard needing to be as social as i need to be

#basically need constant socialization from dawn to dusk or im just ruined #online interactions don’t even count 😩#it’s impossible to supplement it that way i need in person interactions #trying to make friends is fucking impossible #no one means it when they say that they’re gonna hang out again #just getting left on read back to back to back to back #people are so fun for the night and they seem so interested but then nothing #i don’t get it #doing shit alone is so unbelievably exhausting #basically just sitting there the entire time trying to force myself to not break focus to try and talk to someone #doesn’t help that i’m completely incapable of meaningful social interaction when i’m at work #i get so stressed out that i’m having a conversation and not doing my job that it just defeats the entire purpose of having the conversation #incessantly reaching out to friends and inviting them out to shows and being told they appreciate me thinking of them but wont reciprocate #however I am thankful of the friends who do reach out #they absolutely exist and i appreciate the things we do together mundane & exciting alike #i don’t take it for granted and find little moments in everything we do together to hold onto #stopping myself for a moment just to think ‘im glad we’re together in this moment’ so i can better remember that moment later on #so i can remember those moments when im feeling lonely like I am right now #it does a lot for me but i still want and desire community #i need so much more than any one two or ten people can provide it’s almost unbearable #fortunate enough to want to invite all of my closest friends to my birthday and have 28 people on the list #maybe thats too many people but i know how it feels to be told there were too many people for the party and thats why we didnt invite you #to hell with that im not gonna neglect anyone even if i felt like i reached a limit 5 invites ago #it’s not a feeling I want anyone else to feel it’s not something anyone I’m friends with deserves to feel #also im banking on some people not showing up but oh well #we’re sittin on the floor baby it’s a party and all my loved ones are invited

0 notes

aeyumicore · 1 month

Text

☾ .⭒˚ heart within reach ♡ zayne x afab reader

⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x afab!reader (very fem!reader)

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, porn with some plot

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 5.6k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, car sex, road head, fingering, messyyyy cum smearing, slight degradation (just one line), finger sucking, somewhat public/voyeurism?

⋆.˚ ☾ video link: not necessary to watch in order to read and enjoy, but i highly recommend watching the memory for context and a visual for the fic! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hUtBlb2fjQ

☾ .⭒˚ a/n: HELLO FRIENDS i am back with my twist on the new ‘heart within reach’ memory with zayne :)

i’ll likely be releasing fics at a FAR slower pace now, as i find myself lacking motivation lately and wanting to do other things instead of write. i don’t plan on quitting at all! just will be slower <3 but i’m always checking tumblr and twitter (@/aeyumicore) if you want to interact with me!

please enjoy!

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

you hummed to the low volume of the music thrumming in zayne’s car, the two of you sitting in his audi in front of your apartment building. you didn’t want this perfect day with zayne to end, a day spent together with no emergent surgeries, no threat of wanderers, just you and zayne enjoying the fair and the sunset.

“thank you for hanging out with me today,” you smile softly at him, unwilling to get out of the car just yet.

“you’re welcome,” his hand still rests on the steering wheel as he peers at your apartment through the front dash, “let me know when you’re inside.”

you sigh internally, not at all surprised at zayne’s dismissive words. “okay, ” is all you say as you turn to open the passenger door. but before you do, you decide to glance at him again. he doesn’t make a single sound as his head hangs low, his hand still gripping the steering wheel.

you sigh, trying your best to bury your neediness. you didn’t want the night to end yet; it was rare zayne got full days like today off…or nights. nights where zayne would literally make you forget your own name, only knowing how to chant his name over and over.

“don’t forget mr. seal,” zayne murmurs, snapping you out of your desperate and filthy thoughts of him.

“you don’t want to keep him?”

“he won’t like my house. it’s too monochrome and…simple.” he twists his body to reach for the seal plushie he’d won for you at the fair. you suppress a giggle when instead of grabbing the toy, he speaks to it.

“hello.” you want to tease him for his stoicness even when speaking to an adorable plushie.

“you’re scaring him, dr. zayne!” you burst out laughing, and zayne joins in, the sound of his deep chuckle burrowing deep into your brain and making your heart flutter. it wasn’t often zayne smiled or laughed, he preferred to smile with his eyes. but when he did laugh, it was the most precious sound you’d ever heard.

“i have nothing else to say.” you can’t tell if he means nothing to say to the plushie or to you.

“yeah…see you later?” you say softly. you want to kick yourself for your own unyielding stubbornness, wanting him to show you that he might want to spend more time with you too, that he might want to spend the night with you. it would be much easier if you could just swallow your pride and ask him to come in.

but zayne speaks again before you can even move. his voice is exceptionally low, so much so that your breath hitches, “i was wondering…if i had forgotten something. and if you were upset because of it.” you grin a little, your disappointment fading little by little, knowing he’s teasing you now. knowing he’s fully aware of what you want from him, and that he wants to give it to you. but he wants to make you work a little for it.

“do you remember what you’ve forgotten?” you quip, unwilling to be the one to give in.

“i’m not sure…” his voice is throaty with what you hope is desire, but you stay steadfast in your resolve, unwilling to be the one to admit that you don’t want to leave yet. so you lean in, close enough that zayne can feel your warm breath fan across his face. he does his best to hide the way his breath catches in his throat at just how close you were.

“look zayne,” you say brightly, doing your best to keep your voice from wavering at your proximity to the man you adored with your entire heart.

“what?” comes his curt response, but you can see the way his eyes sparkle with amusement.

“me!”

zayne chuckles, his smile reaching his green eyes, “i know what you look like.” he reaches to stroke your face, playing with the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. you force yourself to keep your eyes on his, and to not let them fall to his lips, that you want on yours so badly. he speaks again, this time his low voice is almost sad and reminiscent, “after this i wont be able to see you for quite some time.”

his hand grabs your chin this time, tilting it upwards so that you’re more level with him. you so desperately want him to pull your face to his, capturing your lips that he does so knee buckling well, “since we’re both very busy we should meet up whenever we can.” he’s very careful with his words, but you can feel the longing in his tone. he will miss you as much, if not more, than how much you will miss him.

“what are you thinking about? you’re smiling.” his fingers still grip your chin, gently but demandingly, not letting you look anywhere but at him. you don’t answer, but your smile widens as you look at his amused deep eyes. you have a feeling he knows exactly what you’re thinking of.

“well…i think i might be very close to the answer,” he murmurs, eyes flitting downward to your lips. your heart skips a beat as you catch him staring at your mouth, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you. you steel yourself, trying to calm your pounding heartbeat, intent on dishing back all of zayne’s feigned cluelessness.

you poke his cheek and your voice comes out playfully, “will you dream of me tonight zayne?”

he chuckles, his hand darting up to touch where your finger grazed, hoping you don’t notice the way his cheeks flush at the slightest touch, “…we did visit a lot of places and i am tired. however it seems unlikely.”

you roll your eyes at the game the two of you were playing and you refused to be the one to give in. you poke his cheek again, pouting, “then i won't dream either.”

zayne catches your hand, still trying to poke his cheek, clenching it softly in his hand and bringing your joined palms down to rest on the center console of his luxurious car. his fingers are cold around yours, but you feel them slowly warm up as they hug onto yours.

when he doesn’t release you from his hold, you peer at him curiously and cocking your head to the side, “why are you still holding my hand, dr. zayne?”

he smirks, thumb rubbing circles onto your wrist, “i’ve only confiscated it. i’ll return it when you decide to behave.” you bite back a shiver at his words, your resolve dissolving little by little. you clench your thighs at the look he gives you, your body always reacting readily to his double meaning laced words and heated expressions of desire.

he leans in, bringing his free hand up to your cheek, cupping it gently. his other hand still holds yours, “alright, it's getting late. you should go home.” despite his words, you can sense the hesitation in his voice. but still, you turn to leave.

“...yeah, bye,” you murmur. but zayne’s grasp on your wrist tightens, pulling you back.

“when would we be able to meet up again?” his voice is hopeful, adorably so. zayne brings his phone to his face, the screen lighting up his face in the dim darkness of his car, twinkling like the lights outside.

“let me guess, your schedule is packed?”

zayne ignores your quip, “next week, sunday.” it’s not a question, he’s telling you. the charge in his voice, the demand, the demand to see you. it makes your skin crawl with anticipation.

“if we’re seeing each other sunday, then ill start getting ready on saturday,” you beam at him, already giddy with excitement. zayne lowers his phone to stare at you.

“anyway…” you lean in to touch his face but pull away just as your fingers are about to caress his cheek, “good night.” you’re about to whip your head around to get out of his car but zayne captures your chin and leans into you. your incessant teasing has backfired, as you find yourself caught like a prey in zayne’s hungry stare. you gulp as his eyes flutter to your lips, and yours to his.

“if i’m able to see you sunday, i'll start getting excited thursday,” zayne’s voice is deep and husky, and he leans in to take your lips into his. you can’t suppress the moan that escapes your mouth as his soft and cold lips press into you. he smiles against you, sensually caressing every part of you against his tongue and pulling you impossibly closer with his fingers on your chin.

he kisses you deliberately, taking it impossibly slow. you can vaguely hear him chuckle into you through the pounding in your ears as your tongue begs him for entry into his mouth. he grants it willingly, and your tongues clash deliciously, leaving you whimpering as your panties dampen at just the feel of his mouth on yours.

you whine when zayne pulls away, to which he chuckles, fingers stroking your chin soothingly.

you speak up and glance at him, his lips alone dissolving all of your stubborn determination, “wh-why should we wait until sunday? i…i don’t want to go yet.”

the content smirk that graces his face makes you blush, “where do you suppose we go?”

“why don’t we take mr. seal to your place? i want you to keep him. so he can see his new home, and we can all watch a movie!” zayne smiles warmly at your giddiness, absolutely in love with the way you light up at the thought of spending more time with him.

“are you sure?” he murmurs softly, almost having to force himself to say the words and fight how much he would love to bring you back to his place and spend every second with you. “you’re not too tired?”

you bite your lip, trying to tamp down your blinding grin and furious blush, “take me to your place zayne.”

zayne wastes no time in peeling out of the street, but leaves his hand on your thigh as he drives with just his left hand. you peek at him through the corner of your eye, admiring how his sharp and defined jaw connects to his bobbing neck, the muscles so defined under the faint night lights. his fingers slowly inch their way under your skirt, rubbing circles into your bare thighs. you pray zayne doesn’t notice the way your thighs press closer together at his touch.

his grip on the fat of your thighs only tighten, using his fingernails to torturously graze inexplicable shapes into your tingling skin. through the edges of your vision, you can briefly make out his satisfied smile.

of course he’s purposely trying to torture you. well two can definitely play that game.

you lean over the center console, looping your arms around his free arm, laying your head into his bicep and intertwining your fingers with his. you can feel his muscles stiffen for a second before they relax under your embrace, his fingers tightening with yours.

“is it okay that i’m coming over?” you murmur into his clothed muscular arm, kissing against the smooth fabric up to his shoulder.

his voice comes out in a grunt, one that makes you smile to yourself as you squeeze his taut muscles. he clears his throat, “yes. why wouldn’t it be?”

your hand moves to rest against his thigh, “you don’t invite me over very often.”

“do you want to come over more often?”

your fingers dig into his thigh, just barely but enough that his thick quad muscles tense up under your touch. despite being the one in control, you can’t stop your voice from coming out as a mere whisper, “of course. i want to see where the amazing dr. zayne lives. where he eats, where he reads his medical journals, where he…goes to sleep at night.” you relish in the way his breath catches ever so slightly at the mention of his bedroom.

when those words leave your mouth, your hand reaches to graze his crotch. you bite your lip in surprise when you’re met with his hard length. filled with renewed confidence, you grasp his erection through his pants.

“y/n…” his voice is a feral warning, “behave.”

but his words only spur you on further. you find yourself replaying every single time zayne has driven you to blinding, world shattering orgasms. his hands on your throat, lips on every inch of your skin, manhood buried deep inside. your thighs clench as your slick continues to dampen your panties, and you decide you don’t want to wait or behave.

your fingers move to undo his belt but zayne’s hand releases yours to grip your hand that’s trying to undress him, “i’m driving.”

his hold is tight and refuses to let you venture further into where you want to go, “you’re a surgeon…i know you can multitask.” you shimmy your fingers from his grasp, but he only grips you tighter. his jaw is clenched and his adam’s apple bobs as he speaks, voice a raspy plea for mercy.

“this can’t wait until we get to my place?”

but you only pout at him, even if his eyes are locked on the road ahead, “please zayne?” you know how he loves when you beg, using it to your advantage. “i’ll be such a good girl for you.”

your pleas make him briefly snap his eyes to yours, off of the road, as his cock threatens to rip through his slacks, wanting nothing more than to be released and seek your touch. in his brief moment of weakness, you deftly free your fingers and undo his belt in one fell swoop. zayne hisses as your hands reach in to grasp his massive erection in your palm, still not used to his more than impressive size no matter how many times he’d molded your cunt into its shape.

“you will actually be the death of me, y/n.” you giggle at his words as your hands find their way to his bare manhood and bring it out into the tepid air of the car, marveling at the way it twitches at every tiny graze across your fingers. you lean over as much as you can against the restraint of your seatbelt, so you can earnestly jerk him up and down in your soft palm.

zayne’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning deathly white as he groans unabashedly at your ministrations. the sound of his moans hits your ears, fueling your confidence and the burning desire in your gut.

zayne thrusts ever so slightly up into your grip, chasing the feeling only your body can bring him, “jesus i’m not gonna last long like this.”

before your confidence has a chance to dissipate, you unlatch your seatbelt and lean you torso over the center console. zayne’s eyes bulge but remain on the road, his hands still holding the steering wheel with a deathly grip. you can tell he’s about to scold you, the worry evident in the way his every muscle tenses under your touch. but before he can reprimand you, you let your tongue swipe the underside of his cock, all the way up to his thickly swollen head.

zayne’s words die on his lips as a strangled growl rips out instead, his hips bucking into you as you take his head fully into your warm mouth. you purposely suckle just his engorged tip, desperate to make him lose complete control because of you.

“ffucking hell y/n,” he moans, squirming under you and raising his hips just slightly, still trying to maintain a tight grip on his self-control. you hum into him, letting the tip of your tongue flick continuously over his leaking slit. the taste of him is sweet on your tongue and so damn addicting. zayne’s breath is so heavy, you can practically feel his body heave up and down with his deep breaths.

finally, you sink lower, taking as much of him as you can before he hits the back of your throat. you gag around him, throat constricting around his thick length as he keeps the car shockingly steady and straight on the road. you feel one of zayne’s hand leave the steering wheel to gently thread itself into the hair on the back of your head, rubbing soothing circles into your scalp as you bob up and down.

“throat’s so damn tight,” zayne grunts out, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him.

with how tall zayne is, his seat is far enough back where you can rest your head on his lap, between him and the steering wheel, without endangering your lives. so you rest the side of your head on his lap, lips attaching to the base of his manhood, looking up at him through the blurry tears on your eyelashes. you teasingly lick at him, eyes trained on his flushed face. his eyes occasionally flit down to stare at you in lust-crazed awe before darting back to the road.

“make sure you keep your eyes on the road zayne,” you sing, licking his length like a popsicle, refusing to take him back into your mouth just yet.

“i will, just be a good girl and keep sucking for me baby.”

your chest lurches at his words, absolutely loving his subtle pleas for you. his voice is so urgent with demand and need.

your body aches from your awkward position over the center of his car, but you want to give him more. you bring yourself back up to take him back fully into your lips. starting slow, your pace gradually picks up until you’re full on fucking your throat onto him and the sounds of your gags and moans, his throaty praises, and the obscene squelches of your lips on his soaked cock fill the car.

“shit, i’m gonna cum soon love,” zayne grunts, his hand in your hair a bit more forceful now, pushing you down onto his cock while still maintaining flawless control of the car. you’re unable to contain your deep moans of satisfaction as he grips your head, forcing you to take more. you love the way he’s coming undone for you, evident in the way his hands grab at you fervently and the uncontrollable stream of lust-filled moans leaving his lips.

his length inside your mouth twitches as you diligently suck him off, savoring the taste and feel of him in you. your moans vibrate all around his throbbing length, helping to push him into releasing his load into you. his hips thrust gently into your mouth as his hands push you down, letting his cock fuck into your mouth with the most torturously delicious rhythm. the way your tongue works around him makes him shiver as he alternates between watching the road and you with dilated eyes. you can barely register the effortless turns he makes with his single hand, or when the car grinds to a smooth stop.

“fuuck – my girl is doing so damn good for me,” he breathes out, the lightest whine in his throat which strokes your ego. your heart flutters when he calls you his, and your throat tightens as you continue to bob.

zayne’s grip in your hair tightens, “gonna cum, you’re gonna take it all right?”

you hum in approval. the vibrations resonate in every inch of zayne’s leaking erection as he explodes into your mouth and down your throat, his load so thick and heavy that it threatens to make you choke.

“jesus fuck – hah – fuck,” he swears as he shoots out endless ropes into your throat, his release never ending as your lips and tongue work in tandem to prolong his pleasure.

zayne strokes your hair as he languidly thrusts up into your mouth, riding out the last waves of his intense orgasm. you do your best to swallow every drop, but stray rivulets of his spend drip down your chin as you release his cock with a pop.

as you sit up, zayne watches you in awe and adoration, reeling from what just happened, what you just did for him. he grabs your chin once again, “open, let me see.”

you giggle, wincing slightly at the sore aches in your throat as you stick your tongue out for him to inspect. he uses his thumb to catch the cum falling down your chin, scooping it back up to your mouth. you take him into your mouth eagerly, always desperate to please him.

his eyes darken as he watches you lick his digit clean, so shadowed they reflect the night sky outside. it’s then you notice that zayne’s car is parked, and not in front of his home. you look out the tinted windows and see you’re back at the bridge overlooking the linkon river, only it’s completely empty and dark now that the sun has set.

“why are we–” but yours words are cut off as zayne unlatches his seatbelt and swiftly exits the car and opens the back door, leaving you confused. you’re about to get out too but zayne is on your side in an instant, opening your door and yanking you out. you yelp as he hooks his arms under your knees and easily carries you out like a princess.

“zayne!” you squeal, “what are you doing?!”

he doesn’t answer, instead leaning down to press his lips into yours, kissing you with a bruising passion that makes you lose your breath. you feel him lower you into his backseat, still hunched over with his lips firmly attached to yours. he quickly pulls mr. seal out from under you and places the plushie on the rear window shelf. you almost want to giggle at his actions, finding it adorable how he cares about the plushie enough to not just knock it over onto the car floor.

you pull away reluctantly as your back hits the cool leather, “zayne? what are we doing here? what’s going on?”

zayne climbs in between your legs, shutting the door behind him, and loosening his tie. you squeak when your skirt rides up and his knee pushes firmly against your cunt. you bite your lip as you watch him undo his tie, pulling it off completely before bending back down until he’s inches from your breath. his palm cups your sex under your skirt, pulling a surprised squeal from your lips.

“since you want to be such a desperate little cock hungry girl,” he murmurs, fingers moving your panties to the side and sliding his slender fingers into your dripping slit, “i’m gonna treat you like one.”

you moan as his finger breaches you, back arching off the backseat, grinding further into his finger.

“look at you,” he grins, “so needy for me. can’t even wait until i take you back to my place, huh?”

your response dies on your tongue as he inserts another finger, stretching you around him, “so fucking eager to have my cock in your mouth.”

you whine at the welcomed intrusion, fluttering around his lengthy fingers and doing your best to speak, “nnng, m’sorry zayne just needed to taste you so so bad.”

the content look of satisfaction lights up his handsome features, “what about this pussy baby? does she need me too?” your eyes roll into the back of your skull as he curls his fingers inside of you, your fingers seeking to clutch something, anything, to ground you amidst the pleasure. you try to answer his filthy words, but his fingers stroking your spongy g spot render you a blubbering mess.

“look at her,” he coos, “perfect little pussy was made just for me.” his fingers make you see stars. “you want to be filled so badly huh? can’t even wait until we get home?”

with his free hand, zayne reaches to bring his cock out, still painfully hard despite the unbelievable amount of cum he’d unloaded into your mouth.

against all odds, your brain clears for a brief second to let you think logically while your eyes dart around, “w-wait, what if some-someone sees?” the excitement builds in your core at the thought of zayne, who normally was so averse to any kind of pda, wanting you so badly he’d pulled over so he could take you in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of a public park.

but even at this angle you can tell zayne’s windows are so tinted, coupled with the darkness outside there’s no way anyone could see unless they had their noses pressed up against the glass.

zayne slips your panties down and off your legs, pocketing them before lining his leaking cock with your quivering hole. he rubs his tip up and down, brushing it against your swollen clit. your body arches towards him, begging to be used by him as your lewd moans ring in his ear.

“so?” he murmurs, ghosting along your hole but refusing to put it in just yet. “i would love for someone to see how this perfect little cunt takes me.” he inserts his tip in, just that alone knocking the wind out of your lungs.

“how it was made just for me to fuck,” he grunts, easing himself into you. one of your legs hangs off the car seat as the other rests on his shoulder. with one hand he holds your thigh and the other grips the door rest for support as he hunches over you. his words make your tummy stir, your cunt clenching around him. as he bottoms out, your hand clutches at the driver seat headrest, needing to ground yourself as he stretches you to the max.

“zaaayne,” you slur, “s-so big. feel soo good, please.” your hands reach to clutch at his perfect face, admiring the tiniest twinges in his muscles as he burrows as deeply as possible in your pussy that hugs him so perfectly. his hand releases its grip on the door handle to squeeze your hips, pulling and dragging you against his hard pelvis with every thrust.

the sound of your bare ass repeatedly pounding against his body rings in the small constraint of the back seat, the air thick with sex and arousal. you can vaguely feel your slick dripping down the plush of your ass, onto the leather as zayne fucks into you like he’s trying to find your esophagus with his cock.

through your hooded eyes you can see how fogged up the windows have become, ensuring that virtually nobody could see into the car. but if anyone did see the steamy glass it would be absolutely no secret what the occupants inside were doing. the thought of that excited you beyond comprehension.

zayne throws his head back as he continues his incessant rolls into your core, gasping out a deep and guttural cry, “heaven. you are heaven.”

his words have you whining, using your nails to clutch at his shoulders, clawing desperately at his muscles.

“ngh, z-zayne,” you pant, stray dribbles of drool dripping down your chin, your breasts bouncing with the force at which he spears you onto his body.

“look at you, soaking the damn seats,” zayne chuckles, eyeing the shiny slick on the expensive leather seats, “do you like it when i take you in the back of my car? like a needy little cock whore?”

you gasp at his words, unbelievably aroused at the utter filth that comes out of his mouth as he ruts as deep as he can into your velvet warmth.

zayne groans, “did you just get tighter?” his eyes sparkle as he gazes at you with adoration and reverence. “god, you like it when i talk to you like that huh?” you nod vigorously, fighting the blush on your cheeks and squeezing your eyes shut as you feel yourself succumbing to an incoming orgasm.

“so perfect, so fucking perfect,” he moans, cock quivering in your folds, “thought about this all fucking day.”

“i walked around that fair all day when i just wanted to be in here,” he places his fingers on the mound of your cunt and massages gently, a stark contrast to the brutal pace of his cock ramming inside your sensitive walls. “could fucking live in you.”

you whimper as his thumb shifts to your clit, forcing you to face your impending orgasm head on.

“zaaayne, i’m-im gonna cum,” you wail, hands finding purchase on his thick pulsing neck, nails digging into his nape, sure to leave marks. he hisses at the sting that only feeds the intensity of the pleasure he derives from pounding into your perfect walls.

zayne grabs your chin roughly, bringing your thrown back head back up to meet his heated and hungry eyes and then pulling your chin down, “watch. watch me fuck my load inside you.” you're instantly hypnotized at the sight of his slick and shiny length rutting in and out of you, the veins glistening and throbbing with need.

“good fucking girl,” he grunts, pounding into you with a new vigor as he reaches his undoing alongside you. your leg is bent in a muscle screaming angle while he roughly grabs the side of your neck, bringing your foreheads together as he makes his final thrusts.

keeping your eyes on where your bodies are joined, you cry out, “nnngh zayne, m’cumming. please, please, don’t stop.” zayne harshly groans at your pleas, the sounds of your unhinged begging forever ingrained in his mind. your climax causes you to squeeze unbelievably tight around him, sending him toppling over his own orgasm.

the sounds of your combined moans fill the air as zayne spurts rope after rope of thick and hot cum into your quivering hole. you whimper as he suddenly pulls out of you, eyes widening as you watch even more cum erupt from his massive length, the warm milky cum painting the outside of your cunt, leaking between your lips, into your rear, and onto his luxurious leather seats.

zayne is panting, clutching onto your thigh still thrown over his shoulder, “so fucking messy.” he uses his length, somehow still erect, to smear his cum all over the outside of your cunt, practically fucking into your lips. your entire body shakes as he brushes against your overstimulated clit.

“no-no more,” you whimper, scooting backwards into the side door and sitting up.

zayne smirks, “what happened to my impatient girl? you were so eager when i was driving.” he uses his index and middle finger to swipe down your slit, coating his digits in your combined spend.

bringing it up to your parted lips, his satisfied grin deepens, “since my girl is so eager for my cum, don’t want you missing the taste.” you roll your eyes, but take him into your mouth instinctively. your body always has a mind of its own, willing to do everything and anything to please the unbelievably handsome doctor before you.

zayne presses down onto your tongue as he watches you devour his fingers, biting back the groan of arousal. he pulls away, kneeling up to redo his pants. you sit up, trying to smooth out your clothing but there’s absolutely nothing you can do about the absolute puddle between your thighs.

“zaaayne,” you whine as he climbs off of you, feeling exposed as the warm sex-filled draft of the car brushes against your bare cunt, “where are my panties?”

his eyes glimmer with mischief while his fingers lovingly smooth out your wild thoroughly sexed up hair.

“i’ve confiscated them. you’ll get them back when we get back to my home.”

you pout at him, but don’t argue, knowing you will absolutely not get your way this time.

zayne throws his arm around your shoulder and you melt into his strong arm, feeling utterly exhausted and content. zayne leans over to kiss the top of your head, breathing in the smell of your pheromones and the arousal laced air. you watch the steam on the windows slowly dissipate to reveal how the night lights glitter against the calm river.

his voice is gruff, deep with satisfaction and tiredness, when he finally breaks the comfortable silence, “will you stay with me tonight?” his tone is calm and controlled but you can distinctly make out the faintest traces of desperation, which makes your heart flutter.

“i thought you’d never ask.” you don’t notice zayne’s faint sigh of relief as his arms grip you tighter against him, finding solace in the rhythmic way your body heaves and your heartbeat steadies.

eventually zayne, despite your cries of protest, carries you back to the passenger front door, placing you gently into the seat and buckling you in before getting back into the driver seat and starting the car. you squirm as the slick between your legs continues to drip, shifting so your skirt blocks the leather from your bare skin.

“will you dream about me if i’m sleeping next to you?” you tease, bringing up your conversation from earlier. you can’t help but admire the handsome features of his side profile as he focuses on the road.

though he doesn’t turn to you, you can see the quirk in the corner of his lips, “in order to dream, you need to sleep.” his hand leaves the steering wheel to stroke your knee, making you shiver at his possessive touch. “and since i plan to stay up all night devouring you…i won’t have time to dream.”

tag list: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun @achicilove

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moonlinos · 2 months

Text

I can hear the siren (Siren part I)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, neighbors AU, strangers to “lovers”

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, voyeurism if you squint, hate sex kind of?, masturbation, thigh riding, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, Hyunjin’s a bit of an asshole but I love him

♡ Word count: 7.9k

♡ Synopsis: To say your new next-door neighbor is loud would be an understatement. Three times a week, at the same time every night, he will laugh and talk loudly for an hour. After that, like clockwork, a cacophony of his groans and moans will fill your room through your shared wall. He’s most certainly entertaining some hookup, or maybe a girlfriend. You frankly don’t care — all you know is you want your peace and quiet back. But you never would’ve guessed what you would find out upon confronting him.

♡ A/N: Once again, I cannot shut up and this ended up being much longer than I had originally wanted. One day, I will write a one-shot that’s less than 5k words, but today is not that day. I listened to Taeyeon’s Siren while writing this, hence the title. Also think the song’s a little fitting to the story.

part II →

Yet another night, yet another two hours of hearing your next-door neighbor moaning like a porn star for anyone to hear. The thin walls of your apartment, coupled with the fact that your room shared a wall with his own bedroom, make it impossible for you not to hear everything that happens inside his bedroom. Earphones have proven futile in muffling his voice, and you can only distract yourself with mindless YouTube videos for so long before you give up and simply wait for him to finish. Quite literally.

You noticed it was his routine: Fridays and weekends — the nights when he would graciously give the entire building a free show.

But that wasn’t all he did. And that’s what stirs up curiosity inside of you.

An hour before the unholy sounds begin, he spends a significant amount of time simply speaking, laughing loudly, and throwing the occasional suggestive comment here and there. But only his voice can be heard, and considering how damn thin the walls are, you can’t help but wonder why that is. Maybe his hookups aren’t into his long, drawn-out conversations, only there to get fucked and dip as fast as possible. Or perhaps it’s a girlfriend, and he enjoys gagging her. Your mind has had plenty of time to run wild with theories, seeing as he moved about a month ago, starting your own personal version of hell on his very first day.

You complained to your landlord three times now. On the first time, you were dismissed as being too sensitive to noise. Maybe invest in some earplugs, she suggested. The second time, after explaining through gritted teeth that perhaps the entire building could also hear him and it would be wise to give him a warning, she assured you that only your apartment had such complaints — after all, it was only the two of you on that floor. And, on your last attempt before you ultimately gave up, your landlord all but berated you for meddling in your neighbor’s business. She argued he was inside his apartment and could do whatever he desired.

And so, you accepted your fate.

As you walk out of the shower, your bliss at the realization that tonight is a Friday dissipates as soon as it dawns on you that you are in for three days in a row of your neighbor and his antics. You groan, reluctantly making your way toward your bedroom, your body aching after sitting at your desk at work all day. So sleeping on the couch was not an option; your limbs only ached even more the day after you did that to try and escape the raucous noise.

Like clockwork, at exactly ten p.m., his loud voice fills the small space of your bedroom.

“I’m actually going out tonight again, so we have to be quick,” he explains. “But you like it when I’m quick, don’t you? Like when I make you cum so fast you barely have time to understand what’s happening.”

You grimace at his words, burying yourself under your blankets. God.

“I’m going clubbing with a couple of friends,” He continues. “Hopefully, I’ll find a nice girl to take home, hm?”

Crossing out the word Girlfriend on your mental notes, you scoff. What a gentleman he is, letting his hook-up know he’ll have to fuck her fast so he can leave to meet another woman to take home.

“Maybe I’ll record a video for you if she lets me. Would you like that, seeing me fuck another woman? I bet you would.”

What the fuck. The word Girlfriend is added back to your list. Maybe the girl is into that shit, and you’re not one to kink shame so long as everything’s consensual. But you surely didn’t consent to knowing that information.

Soon enough, his voice drops to a sultry tone, and incessant hums spill from his lips. And the worst part of your night begins.

You hate to admit it — seeing as the guy makes you lose sleep and disturbs your peace since he’s graced the building with his presence — but his dirty talk, when coupled with his groans, becomes far less unpleasant and much more enticing. Every night, you struggle for an hour with the uncomfortable feeling of arousal between your legs, the way he alternates between praises and vulgar words causing a twinge inside of you. But you never dare to masturbate to the sound of his voice — that would be going too far. Or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you follow your rule of waiting for him to finish whatever it is that he’s doing to then finally touch yourself. As you tightly shut your eyes, you focus on your upcoming work assignments, desperately trying to drown out the sound of his voice. Maybe boring yourself to sleep is your only escape.

“Oh, I know how wet you are just watching me — fuck,” he groans, a breathy scoff leaving his lips. “Don’t even gotta tell me. Just touch yourself, it’s okay.”

Your eyes shoot open as it feels as if he’s fucking talking to you. You shake your head, the awful feeling of embarrassment engulfing you in the privacy of your own bedroom.

“I know you want to,” His voice is unrelenting, reverberating through your dark room, punctuated by heavy sighs. “Do it for me, will you? Touch your pretty cunt for me.”

You feel your clit begin to pulse, and a loud groan escapes from your lips. So loud, in fact, you wonder if he heard you through the thin walls as well.

Fuck it, you tell yourself inwardly, it’s not like the guy will ever know what you’re doing.

The sound of his voice was as silky and dark as velvet, covering you wholly and clouding your judgment with each word. You allow your hand to slip underneath your sleep shorts, gasping as you find the fabric of your panties already soaking simply from hearing his words — almost begging, guiding you to let go of your reservations and touch yourself.

“Just like that. D’you like the sound of my voice?” He asked, voice breathless, a deep groan echoing through the walls. “Like hearing me moan for you? Bet you’d like it even more if I was fucking you.”

Your fingers delicately flick back and forth, teasing your clit, your mind now shamelessly imagining his fingertips, his tongue, his cock, anything he was willing to give you. You’re quick to lose yourself in this imagination, despite not knowing what the man looked like — you soon realize that wasn’t at all important, a dark shadowy figure hovering over you proving to be more than enough for you as you felt a rush of wetness pooling between your thighs when your neighbor let out a louder, guttural noise.

“Fuck, I’d love to be stretching that pussy out,” He chokes out, and you bite your bottom lip to keep from making any noise. You’re now hyper-aware that if you can hear him this loudly, he’d be able to hear you with the same amount of clarity.

Your embarrassment only goes so far, though, as you slip a finger into your cunt, your breath hitching and your eyes fluttering closed to better conjure up the fantasy your mind had been creating. You imagine his long fingers inside you in place of your own, the words he spilled almost nonchalantly being whispered directly into your ears. One finger soon turned into two, then three, the heel of your palm rubbing against your clit as you tilt your hips up. You throw away your last drop of inhibition as you indulge in vivid thoughts, imagining the shape and size of his cock and, most importantly, how it would feel as it filled you up. Your neighbor’s words almost faded into white noise, his grunting the only coherent sound in your ears.

Would he take his time with you, like he always did whenever you heard him? Teasing you for hours as he candidly talked about nothing in particular, rendering you unable to do anything but beg for him? Or would he be hasty, like tonight, his cock abruptly stretching you to the brim, making you feel every inch of his thick length? Would he rather finish on your breasts, your stomach, or maybe your face, taking a picture to keep as a souvenir he could show off to whoever he was with during these nights?

“Come with me,” His voice suddenly became clear once more, deep and hoarse as you imagine his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “Think about how good it’d feel to have me come inside you, stuffing that little cunt while you milk me dry.”

You purse your lips as you feel your release approaching, coaxed purely by his words. The mental image of this stranger painting your insides with his release, all the while his intoxicating voice told you how good you were, how warm and tight you felt enough to have waves of pleasure wash over you, body tensing up as your orgasm surges through you.

As you slowly come down from your high, you feel your consciousness come back to you. Your fingers leave your core as if you were just burned by fire, which is fitting as a feeling of burning embarrassment wraps around you tightly like a vice.

But the worst part is that the shame quickly ebbs away as you hear your neighbor’s chuckle, the laugh of a stranger you had come to almost memorize.

“You know I’m always glad to make you come. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, everything around you falls into a quiet stillness. You faintly hear as he shuts his front door, presumably leaving for that club he had mentioned, and you’re left to lie with your regrets.

This has just crossed a line, and although you couldn’t bring yourself to feel all that guilty, you still knew it was wrong. You had no choice but to confront the cause of your troubles yourself.

Unfortunately, that cause was a person you had just shamelessly fantasized about as you fingered yourself.

The next afternoon, you stand at your neighbor’s door, hesitant to knock. Since he mentioned going clubbing last night, you knew coming by in the morning would be futile, but you also know — sadly, all too well — that Saturday nights are when he’s the loudest, and he only stops well past midnight. You settled for the afternoon, preparing lunch as you rehearsed your words in your head instead of enjoying your weekend.

You knock twice, and that familiar voice soon rings through the door, asking for a moment. A minute later, your neighbor is standing in front of you, holding the door open with sleepy eyes that focus on you. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but surely not a tired-looking tall man with messy black hair wearing a pout on his lips, as if you just rudely disturbed him from his sleep (how ironic). From what you heard during the last month, you were ready to have to face a shirtless fuckboy, a permanent smirk etched onto his lips as he eyed you indifferently. Instead, you’re greeted by soft cheeks and half-closed eyes.

“Yeah?” Your neighbor croaks out, face still heavy with sleep.

You clear your throat, returning to the matter at hand. “I’m your next-door neighbor, I—”

“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” he says before you can even finish your rehearsed opening sentence, his lips curling into a small smile. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Somehow, him being so soft is making you hate him even more.

“I wish I could say the same,” you mutter, “Y’know, you’ve been making my life a living hell since you moved in.”

He doesn’t answer, instead running a hand through his hair, the strands falling into place and away from his face. After a small nod, he opens the door all the way.

“Come on in,” he says, promptly walking inside and leaving you standing in the hallway all alone. You have no choice but to follow after him.

He snatches his cup of coffee from the counter, letting out a tired sigh as he collapses onto the couch and takes a big sip. You sit next to him and watch as he swallows slowly, humming contently, and only then speaking again.

“Why is that?”

You hold back another eye roll. “Well, you’re quite noisy at night,” you hesitantly begin, only now grasping just how awkward explaining this situation will be. “On Fridays and on the weekends, you’re… loud.”

And in an instant, you witness a complete shift in his entire demeanor right before your eyes. Like he’s possessed by something, his once sleepy eyes now bore into you with an intense gaze, and his lips curl into the smug grin you were expecting from the start.

“So you can hear me?” He asks as if you hadn’t just told him exactly that. You feel small under the weight of his darkened eyes, but you shrug, doing your best at feigning confidence.

“It’s pretty hard not to hear you,” you answer simply. “We share a wall, in case you didn’t know. I can hear everything you do in your bedroom.”

He raises a brow at your words as if they piqued his interest. But he doesn’t verbalize it; instead, he speaks in that same nonchalant tone you’re used to hearing through your bedroom wall, “You never told me your name. A bit rude, don’t you think?” He offers you his hand. “I’m Hyunjin.”

You scoff but shake his hand regardless, telling him your name with a sigh.

“You know what I think is rude?” You offer him a forced smile. “Keeping your next-door neighbor up all night with how fucking loud you are.”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer. His gaze traces a path from your eyes to your lips before lingering on your thighs. You instinctively cross your legs, fingers smoothing down the fabric of your shorts. Locking his gaze with yours once more after a few seconds, he cocks his head to the side.

“So I’ve been keeping you up all night?” He muses, and you feel a warmth spread across your cheeks at the rough rasp in his voice.

It’s almost as if he knows what you did last night and is teasing you.

Although you know that’s impossible, your words still get choked up. Hyunjin was undeniably attractive — whether it was looking as soft as he did while answering the door or as if he could devour you with his gaze alone as he does now. You couldn’t be blamed for feeling flustered, especially after everything you heard this man saying and doing.

“Well,” you clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. Showing your outrage at this entire situation is your best bet, so you allow for the anger you felt during all those sleepless nights to seep through your veins. “It’s kinda hard to sleep when you’re moaning like a porn star.”

But Hyunjin fully chuckles at that. “So I sound like a porn star?” He nods with an amused hum. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. Never mind anything you had thought upon seeing him open that door; Hyunjin is everything you thought he would be.

“Look, I didn’t come here to stroke your ego. You’re clearly doing just fine in that regard,” you grumble, and he scoffs beside you, leaning back on the couch with a smug expression you want to slap away from his pretty face. “I came here to ask if you could move whatever it is that you do to the living room, or maybe keep it down. I’m sure that’s not too much to ask.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue almost mockingly. “Oh, but it is too much to ask. I can’t really do any of those things. Sorry,” he shrugs, “The building has thin walls. You’re just gonna have to get used to it, I’m afraid.”

You stagger at his words, his lack of common sense seemingly higher than you initially gave him credit for. You’re unsure whether to laugh in sheer disbelief or cuss him out as anger slowly bubbles up inside your chest. How unfairly attractive he looks at the moment isn’t helping your case — he spreads his legs further as he shifts on the couch, bringing his mug up to his full lips and watching you almost uninterestedly with half-lidded eyes.

Fuck this guy.

“What is it you do that’s so important that you can’t at least keep it down? Can’t your girlfriend get off without your obnoxious dirty talk? Is that it?”

Hyunjin shakes his head dismissively. “Don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Your dates, then. I honestly don’t care.” You roll your eyes, which elicits a small laugh from him. You have never wanted to punch someone so badly, all while also wanting them to rearrange your guts. “Whoever it is, whatever it is that you do, can’t we compromise and you be quiet, at least on Fridays? I get home from work exhausted and have to put up with your shit when all I wanna do is sleep.”

“Ah, but Fridays are the most important nights for me,” Hyunjin tells you with a condescending lilt in his voice. “That’s also not possible, I’m so sorry.”

“I see.” You suck in a deep breath, your eyes narrowing and hands curling into fists on your lap. “Then would it be possible for you to move your… activities to the living room?”

Hyunjin contorts his face, shaking his head while that grin is still etched onto his lips. “Yeah, no, that’s also not possible.”

“You’re extremely inflexible, do you know that?” You blurt out, “I’m not asking that you move out, I’m simply asking that you fuck whoever it is that you fuck every weekend somewhere else.”

His piercing gaze lingers on you briefly, as if he’s carefully considering his next words. Sighing, he sets his mug on the end table and sits up straight.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposes, carelessly ripping a piece of paper from the open sketchbook that lay on the coffee table and jotting something down. “Tonight, you wait for me to start my activities,” he says with a poorly concealed chuckle. “And then you go on this website. Maybe it’ll clear up some things inside your pretty little head. Can you do that for me?”

He hands you the note, eyes darting down to your lips once more before meeting your gaze. The tone of his voice is the same that echoes through your bedroom during those nights — exactly like the one that coaxed an orgasm out of you just last night, and you absentmindedly squeeze your thighs together.

You need to get out of here.

With a small nod, you swiftly stand back on your feet and walk toward the door of his apartment that was left wide open. You quietly mutter a goodbye as Hyunjin says something about it being a pleasure meeting you, all while amusedly staring at you.

It’s only as you close your front door behind you that you look down at the piece of paper that you subconsciously crumpled up. Scrawled in a messy handwriting is simply a website address:

fivestarcam.com

You furrow your brows, walking toward your bedroom as you rack your brain for how a website could possibly give you answers. It dawns on you, then — all the trouble you went through, and yet, no solution to your problem.

Ultimately, you decide you’ve already wasted too much of your patience on this man today, throwing the piece of paper on your bedside table and going about your day, enjoying the tranquility of your apartment while you can.

Night comes too fast, the sun setting outside unbeknownst to you as you lie on the couch for nearly three hours, your focus solely on the plot of the movie playing on your phone. Soon enough, ten p.m. rolls around, and you drag your tired body toward your bathroom. You take a shower with no rush, knowing full well that by the time you walk into your bedroom, Hyunjin’s activities will already have started.

Sure enough, you’re greeted by a drawled-out groan as soon as you enter your room. With a heavy sigh, you throw yourself onto your bed. Your bedroom had always been comforting, your bed almost like a safe haven from all the stress life threw your way. Yet now it’s simply the place where you lie awake for hours, simultaneously vexed and uncomfortably turned on.

You lie still for a while, Hyunjin’s vulgar chatter like the background music to your spacing out, until you remember the piece of paper he gave you earlier. How would a website clear up any of your confusion? And, more importantly, why should you even care enough to find out? From the little interaction you had with the man, you know for a fact Hyunjin will remain unchanging in his obnoxious ways.

However, you’ve always been too curious for your own good, and the mere prospect of understanding this annoyingly enigmatic man even a tiny bit has you hurriedly picking your laptop off the floor and typing out the website address on your browser. Curiosity killed the cat.

The first thing that greets you is a message asking that you verify being over the age of eighteen. All you have to do is click a button, which seems counterintuitive, but you have little time to worry about that when your screen is filled with preview thumbnails of several live broadcasts.

You’ve heard of camming websites before, of course, but you didn’t know they were still a thing nowadays, what with the rise of Only Fans and other more independent ways to go about making money like this.

Your eyes scan the page with agape lips. Men and women — some in their underwear and some already naked, some showing their faces and some wearing masks. And then, your eyes land on a particular thumbnail. At the Top Cammers of The Month section, on the number one spot, is a fully clothed man with familiar long black hair. Only the bottom of his face can be seen due to his camera angle, but that is more than enough as your gaze fixes on his full lips.

That’s undeniably Hyunjin. Your neighbor, Hyunjin.

Before you can make sense of your actions, your fingers are already hovering above the touchpad as you watch the thumbnail image change into a new one. Curiosity is eating away at you, and you can’t deny that your nosy mind is eager to finally see Hyunjin rather than only hear him.

Ultimately, you decide this is ridiculous.

But your twitching fingers brush against the touchpad just as you move to close your laptop, promptly clicking the live video, your screen now filled with the image of Hyunjin in his bedroom. He’s shirtless now, palming himself through his sweatpants — the same ones he wore this afternoon.

“You wanna know how clubbing went last night?” He says with a grin, and you now understand his incessant talking is merely him answering comments from his viewers. Various different names fly through the right side of your screen, some with tips attached to their comments and some simply drooling over Hyunjin as he essentially sits in front of the camera doing nothing.

A cocky smile is spread on his lips once you shift your attention back to him.

“I guess you’re good at following orders,” he chuckles. You then realize your laptop’s volume is on high, and the speaker’s noise permeates through your wall and into Hyunjin’s bedroom. Your eyes shoot open, and you scramble to find your earphones in your bed.

You’re gnawing on your bottom lip as you plug them in, suddenly too aware of the fact that he can hear you just as well as you can hear him. Hyunjin’s smile shifts into a small laugh, his hand wrapping around his length through his sweatpants, the firm outline of his cock straining against the fabric. You feel a tingling sensation spread through your body, your inner muscles clenching as you watch the way his hand squeezes along the thick outline, the muscles of his stomach contracting as he lets out a broken sigh.

This feels wrong, as if you’re nothing more than a pervert watching Hyunjin for your own pleasure. But then again, it was he who gave you the website address in the first place. Why else would he have done that if not for you to watch him?

“I have a special someone watching tonight,” he murmurs, and you can just imagine his gaze right now — his eyes hooded and piercing, locked onto the camera with the same intensity as when he looked at you earlier today.

Hyunjin’s hand reaches inside his sweatpants, withdrawing his cock from the constraints of the dark fabric before you can make sense of what’s happening. Your gaze remains fixed, unable to look away from the red, swollen head that stands out against his pale skin. With lazy movements, he begins stroking himself, the precum dripping from the tip easing the glide of his hand. You bite the inside of your cheek as more arousal leaks from you, gathering in your panties.

“Hope she likes watching just as much as she liked listening to me last night,” Hyunjin rasps out, and you immediately close your laptop, throwing it to the side before burying your face in your pillow.

He knows you got off to his voice. He has to know.

And, unfortunately, your brain is currently too clouded by lust to function properly, and the only logical solution you can come up with is to go knocking at his door tomorrow.

You stand in front of Hyunjin’s door at the same time as yesterday, a strange blend of anger and curiosity making you knock frantically until he answers with that annoyingly alluring smirk on his lips.

“Did you enjoy the show last night?” Hyunjin asks before you can even utter a word, his voice filled with a goading tone.

You push past him, walking into his apartment with a scowl. “Why did you send me that?”

He only shrugs, closing the door behind him before stretching his arms above his head with a sigh. “Needed you to understand why I can’t just stop doing what I do. It’s my job,” he reasons, “I figured showing you was more effective than telling you.”

A scoff involuntarily falls from your lips, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. “So you just sent me to a website full of porn without even asking me if that was okay? I don’t care if that’s your fucking job, I never asked you—”

“Did you stay till the end?” He asks, a lazy grin on his lips as his gaze wanders across your face. Clearly, he’d completely ignored every word that came out of your mouth.

“Hyunjin, are you even listening to me?”

“I was thinking about you, y’know?” He continues, taking a step toward you. “Was really easy to come when I knew you were watching me.” He cages your body against the door with his, both hands resting beside your head. His dark gaze locks onto you, causing your breath to hitch. “All I could think about was how you were secretly listening to me all this time. Such a dirty girl.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. You want to tell him you weren’t secretly listening to him; you were merely thrown into this situation against your will. But his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips, lingering before roaming over the swell of your breasts, causing your thoughts to blur and your words to die in your throat.

“Kept thinking about how I never heard you,” he says, almost as if he’s wondering aloud. “When was the last time someone fucked you properly?”

His gaze finally travels back up to yours, and the fog of desire clouding his eyes is unmistakable. The moment you knocked on his door, you knew this would happen. You weren’t naïve, and Hyunjin wasn’t stupid; the moment you pushed past him and into his apartment, you both knew where this was going.

“Don’t have time to go on dates,” you murmur as Hyunjin leans down, humming low on his throat.

“Well,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “You got to listen to me, got to watch me… Don’t you wanna know what it feels like?”

You can only nod, and Hyunjin immediately presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He wedges his knee firmly between your thighs, as if he’s silently demanding that you give in to him. Little does he know you’re already way past that point.

Breaking the kiss, Hyunjin studies your features for a beat, the pad of his thumb gliding across your bottom lip as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“You really want this?” He asks, and you can’t help but feel he does it simply for the pleasure of hearing you beg.

But you happily comply either way.

“Please,” you breathe out, and Hyunjin chuckles, firmly pressing his thumb into your mouth and watching as you wrap your lips around it with a contented hum. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Hyunjin pushes his thigh against your core, the seam of your shorts creating a delicious friction against your clit. You can feel the warmth of his body as he presses up against you, and a sigh falls from your lips, your hands gliding up around his shoulders. You have no reservations left in your body; the only thing replaying inside your mind at the moment is the image of Hyunjin’s cock on your laptop. He was right. You were dying to know what it would feel like.

His strong hands firmly gripped onto your hips, guiding you to move against his thigh, each back-and-forth motion increasing the pressure on your aching clit. It felt too much, yet not enough at the same time. But just as you’re about to plead for more, Hyunjin’s pressing his lips to yours again and swallowing down your voice. His tongue slides against yours, the taste of coffee and smoke lingering in your mouth as he grazes your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling gently before letting go.

You feel your mind go fully hazy as Hyunjin lifts his thigh, bringing you up to your tiptoes, his muscles flexing and prompting you to roll your hips faster, harder.

“Who would’ve thought, huh? Just minutes ago you were acting like I was the worst person alive,” He lets out a low chuckle, amused, and your grip on his neck tightens as you feel the familiar vexation he brings out of you bubble up inside your chest. “Now you’re humping my leg like a bitch in heat.”

“Shut up,” you choke out, your brain too lust-hazed to conjure up a better response. You don’t particularly care what he thinks of you so long as he keeps his bruising grip on your skin, guiding you to roll your hips against him.

Hyunjin trails kisses down the skin of your neck, settling at the dip of your collarbone and sucking on the skin while you eagerly quicken your speed. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, undoubtedly marking you, while his thigh begins to bounce against your cunt, and you can feel the familiar aching warmth of your orgasm beginning to tighten in your stomach. But just as you’re about to be hit by the release you’re so desperate for, Hyunjin’s hands leave your hips and slide down to your ass, any stimulation you had before coming to a halt as he picks you up and makes his way to the living room.

“What the fuck?” You all but yell, earning you a hearty laugh from Hyunjin. “I was close, you asshole.”

He roughly throws you onto the couch, a condescending pout etched onto his lips.

“But that’s no fun for me, is it, baby?” He hovers over you, spreading your thighs apart and slotting himself between them. In stark contrast to his words, he gently lifts your shirt over your head, feather-light touch sending shivers down your spine. “Greedy girls don’t get to come.”

You feel your insides clenching at his words, and although you despise the effect he has on you, you’re already here, laid out before him, so you might as well indulge him. You gently push Hyunjin back until he sinks into the sofa, legs lazily spread apart and half-lidded eyes fixated on you. As soon as you clutch at his shirt, he promptly tugs it over his head in one fluid motion, and you attach your lips to the bare skin of his stomach, trailing kisses down the expanse of his torso.

You waste no time tugging his sweatpants down and out of your way, his cock now hanging heavily before you, just as pretty as it had seemed on that little screen. Hyunjin’s hand soon wraps around himself, stroking lazily while you watch the precum dribble from his tip. Tentatively, you grab the base of his cock, bringing your tongue to the head and tantalizingly lapping at it. Hyunjin lets out a quiet gasp, his own hand leaving his length and tangling in your hair, guiding you forward toward his cock. You part your lips and suck the head into your waiting mouth, hands now stroking his length at a slow pace while you lick up his slit, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. You hold back a chuckle when you feel him twitch under your touch, a soft whimper falling from his throat.

Hyunjin’s hips buck up into your lips, and you promptly open your jaw wider and slide his whole length down your throat slowly. You weren’t lying when you said you had no time for dates, which is why you find yourself struggling a bit. It truly had been a while since you had a proper fuck, but you would never give Hyunjin the pleasure of hearing you admit it. Breathing through your nose, you’re finally able to move up and down his cock, swallowing all of him. Your eyes well up as his fingers tug harshly at your hair, shoving your mouth back down the entirety of his thick length. A choked-out whimper falls from your throat, and you instinctively move your gaze toward his.

“God,” he rasps out, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip and eyebrows knitting together. “You take me so well.”

You promptly remove your lips from him with a loud pop, precum and saliva dribbling down your chin as you struggle to suppress a laugh at the utter indignation on his face.

“I doubt you could fuck me if I let you come,” you shrug, and Hyunjin’s expression softens, a scoff falling from his lips.

Before you can say anything else, he’s already pushed you back onto the couch, easily flipping you over so your face is pressed into the cushion. He snakes a hand under your stomach and lifts your hips, quickly working to rid you of your shorts before pressing his cock against your clothed ass.

He leans down, lips pressed against your ear — much like it was in your fantasy back in your bedroom — and whispers, “You need me that badly? I can feel how soaked you are, and all you did was hump my leg.”

You grumble under your breath, but it goes ignored by Hyunjin as he grips your hips and slides his cock under the fabric of your panties, stroking himself along your soaking slit with a low groan. You can feel your underwear gradually dampen more as his precum mixes with your own arousal, the sheer cloth clinging to his cock with each thrust.

Hyunjin’s hand splayed across your lower back, causing you to arch your body and press your hips back instinctively. He chuckles, hand coming down onto the supper flesh of your ass with no warning, a sharp whimper falling from your lips.

“I told you greedy girls don’t get to come,” He reiterates, clicking his tongue and grabbing a large handful of your ass before tugging your panties down your legs. You quietly hoped the trees outside obscured enough of his window, otherwise you’d be in for some interesting elevator rides with your other neighbors. With a hiss, Hyunjin’s thumb presses against your clit before gliding along your wet folds. “Soaking wet,” he mutters, eyes glazed over while he watches your slick coat his finger.

You simply hum, not wanting to stroke his ego any more than you already had by begging him earlier. But you’re unable to contain the gasp that leaves your lips as he pushes his hips forward, the swollen tip of his cock gliding against your warm core once, twice, all while Hyunjin’s hands travel across your ass and thighs. You’re sure he’ll tease you until you give in and beg, but it seems his facade is quick to crumble. He impatiently wraps a hand around his length, finally guiding himself toward your entrance, seamlessly gliding into you with a heavy sigh.

He stills for a second, gaze transfixed by the way your cunt stretches around his thick cock. Until he suddenly pulls out of you before snapping his hips forward again, then again, until he sets a rhythm of deep, fast strokes that have you rocking back and forth on the couch. Pulling yourself up to rest on your forearms, you choke out a loud moan, Hyunjin’s cock twitching inside you at the sound.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, strong arms encircling your body once more, this time pulling you close to him until your back presses against his chest. Hyunjin’s thrusts grew more forceful, the sound of skin slapping together echoing through his small living room as he relentlessly pumped himself into you. His hand wraps in your hair, yanking your head back and humming against your ear, “Go on, you can moan for me,” he hisses, “I know how good it feels.”

Fuck. His ego is surely something you would never get used to.

But you let go, freely groaning at the feeling of his cock pistoning into you. You can feel the curve of his grin against your cheek.

“Like that, I know how much you like it,” he rasps out, “Just as much as you liked touching yourself to my voice like a little slut.”

“Fuck off, you—” you huff, your words cut off by a drawn-out mewl as Hyunjin’s fingers firmly pressed down on your clit, flattening the swollen bud. You couldn’t control yourself after that, desperate whimpers and choked-out moans falling from your lips with each harsh thrust of his hips.

Your sounds seem to stir something inside of him, and his movements grow more erratic, his fingers circling your clit hastily. A crescendo of arousal and pleasure envelops you as more curses tumble from Hyunjin’s lips against your ear, his hand gripping your cheek and pulling you into a messy kiss.

You clench around him, body shaking with the force of your climax as you seek Hyunjin’s arm wrapped around your body for purchase. He continues pounding into you, and you feel yourself squirm, your vision going blurry from the stimulation.

“Gonna come,” he hisses against your lips, “Where do you want it?”

And you’re too far gone at this point, whimpering, “Anywhere you want.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath, pulling out while his hand finds your lower back once more, pushing you onto the couch before flipping your pliant body over so you’re facing him. You watch with hazy eyes as he strokes himself feverishly over your body, his cum soon shooting onto your breasts.

His unreadable gaze lingers on you for a beat and a half before he nonchalantly tucks himself back into his sweatpants and heads toward the hallway. You sit up on the couch, limbs aching, and chuckle to yourself. This was not your proudest moment, but you surely didn’t regret it.

You don’t expect aftercare from someone like him, so you resign yourself to searching for your discarded shirt. But Hyunjin’s tall frame appears before you, towel in hand before you can even stand up. His touch is gentle as he cleans your chest, and although the gesture is somewhat sweet, it feels extremely awkward.

“Really liked fucking you,” he tells you with a grin, “But you gotta leave now. I’m going live later, and I also gotta go to the club tonight, so I have to rest. But it was fun.”

And you simply scoff at his words, rising to your feet to dress yourself as quickly as possible. It was a bit baffling how he could fuck you the way he did, then tell you he’s off to pick up more girls at a club immediately after. But what did you expect? Hyunjin’s ego and arrogance were clear to you from day one.

“Why the fuck do you go clubbing so much, anyway?” You question as you head toward the front door, and Hyunjin chuckles behind you. “Is that your hunting ground or something?”

“You could say that,” he simply says.

As you unlock his door and step out into the hallway, Hyunjin’s voice calls out to you. Turning to look at him, you’re met with that familiar smirk adorning his lips.

“We can do this again anytime you want,” he assures, and the mere thought of letting him touch you again makes you roll your eyes in disdain.

“Yeah right.”

If only you knew then just how awfully torturous it would be to listen to him, knowing what he was doing — most importantly, knowing what it felt like to have him.

Lust completely clouds your judgment when it comes to Hyunjin, and you soon find yourself coming back to his apartment until it becomes an annoyingly pleasurable habit.

Every day, when he hears you get home from work, your phone buzzes with a text asking that you come over and help him ‘warm up for his job.’ The nights of suffering in your bedroom have transformed into watching him from the corner of his room, enthralled with the way he can make himself come on camera so eagerly and later fuck you with just as much vigor.

It’s a nice arrangement, but definitely not one you see yourself in for the long run. Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but you’re not foolish enough to anchor your feelings to someone like him. It’s not his job that’s the problem, but mostly his attitude toward life. He belongs to nobody, while you yearn to belong to someone. Routine is the last thing on his mind, while you revel in its comfort. You could never be with someone like him.

But it is a nice arrangement.

So you find yourself back in his bed again today, his heavy cock in your mouth as he tugs harshly on your hair, painting the back of your throat with his cum. Except this time, he doesn’t immediately ask you to leave.

“What?” You ask, “Don’t you have to go clubbing or something?”

“It’s my day off,” he shrugs, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close and falls back into bed. You furrow your brows, detangling yourself from him.

“Day off? From what, picking up girls?”

Hyunjin chuckles, eyes sleepy. “I work at the club,” he simply says. “I’m a host, I just act like I go clubbing when I talk about it during my lives ‘cause my viewers can be a bit stalkery.”

“What?”

“Have you heard of The Siren?” He asks, and you hum, recalling a faint memory of some of your co-workers mentioning the club in passing. “That’s where I work.”

You nod slowly, still confused. “What exactly does a host do?”

“Well, basically, I get to make money just by making lonely women feel wanted.”

You can’t help but scoff at his crude description. “And do you fuck them?”

“Well, yeah,” he answers like it’s obvious. “It’s part of the job.”

“Fucking hell,” You let out a hearty laugh, to which Hyunjin shoots you a questioning look. “Your sex drive really should be studied.”

His lips upturn into a smirk, and his arms reach for you again, beckoning you back into his embrace. “No need to be jealous, baby. I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you into his chest. He threads his fingers through your hair, and you can’t help but feel… awkward.

“You’re kind of an asshole, Hyunjin.”

He hums. “Sure, but you still let me fuck you.”

You two stay that way for a while, his fingers massaging your scalp as he presses a kiss to your head now and then. It feels disorienting, like a sudden shift from everything Hyunjin had been until now. He was never caring or sweet, he never kissed you if you weren’t fucking, and he surely never cuddled you. Your face involuntarily contorts into a grimace.

You detach yourself from him, getting up from the bed and telling him you’ll see him later. But Hyunjin is grabbing at your arm with a smile.

“Come on, don’t be sad,” he giggles as you try to free yourself from his grip. “I’m really not the type of guy you should have fallen for, anyway.”

You still at his words, face contorting into pure befuddlement. “Fallen for? Who the fuck says I’ve fallen for you?”

And Hyunjin simply scoffs, letting go of your arm as his smile shifts into his characteristic grin. “Well, there’s a reason I’m number one among the hosts at The Siren.”

“Hyunjin, those girls aren’t exactly after you for your personality,” you deadpan. “You’re really nothing worth falling for.”

His grin slowly fades, and it’s his turn to have confusion take hold in his eyes. “What?”

You can tell he wasn’t expecting this. Almost as if he was expecting you to have truly fallen for him simply because he… is him. And you can’t help but chuckle at the situation.

“Hyunjin,” you call out to him sweetly, and his gaze is back on you immediately. “You’re a nice fuck, but that’s really it. Don’t worry about me falling for you.”

You can swear you see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but it’s likely only your imagination. He opens his lips to speak but promptly closes them again. He simply stares up at you from where he’s sat on the bed and almost looks sweet. If you didn’t know him, you would undoubtedly be charmed by this convincing facade. You have to give it to him; you do understand why he’s number one at his job.

“But…” He trails off, shaking his head. “But I’ll see you again tomorrow, right?”

“Sure,” you shrug. “We can keep fucking until I find something better.”

You run your fingers through his long hair and make your way to the door, leaving him with an expression frozen in bewilderment.

Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but he’ll never be yours.

But that’s not a problem, as you surely will never be his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings

#stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #skz

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murdrdocs · 1 month

Text

venus fly

description. the pollen that sprayed in LUKE CASTELLAN's face earlier this morning has some really weird effects. not that he's complaining.

a continuation of this drabble

includes. sex pollen SUGGESTIVE CONTENT 18+, accidental drugging, loser!luke, best friend!reader, demeter!reader, implied oral (f and m receiving), slightly perv!luke, aftercare almost nonexistent

wc: 4.5k+

a/n: the long awaited sex pollen fic. title from venus fly by grimes. no explicit smut ahead. artwork credit unknown.

Your shirt is fitting you really well.

Your lips are moving, you’re saying something to Luke, he assumes it’s likely at least a little bit important, but he can only focus on how well your shirt is fitting.

Tight enough over your bust—Luke figures you’re wearing a sports bra for capture the flag today since he sees no bra lines, but the bra creates a nice shape for your tits, so he doesn’t need the lines to entertain him.

“Did you get a new shirt?”

You stop whatever you were saying to look down at your chest. You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you fix Luke with a look of disappointment.

“Wha–? It’s an older one. All of my others were dirty.” Your bosom is covered, but Luke is still staring. It’s like he cannot peel his eyes away. Though, he hasn’t tried. At least, not until you scold him.

“Will you stop ogling me while I’m trying to talk to you?”

His reply is earnest. “Wait, shit, yeah. ‘m sorry I don't know what's going on…”

You stare at him, your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted. Luke can’t help but fix his eyes there next. You’re wearing chapstick, or maybe lip gloss. Something that’s spreaded over your lips and creates a nice sheen that makes him want to lick it off like icing on a treat.

“It’s okay …” Your words aren’t that convincing but you drop your arms and start speaking again. This time, Luke takes in at least a dozen words.

Really, he should have known what was wrong with him. The same way he should have known that eventually, his insistent nosiness would come back to bite him in the rear.

You’d always warned him of such, telling him that “it’s charming until it’s not”, when you would boot him out of the greenhouse. (Truthfully, Luke had codependency issues but if he never really admitted it to himself, then he wouldn’t have to admit it to you, either.)

You were spending more time in the greenhouse lately. Which has never been a problem for Luke. But your newest project, something completely unknown to Luke as it was apparently a Demeter kid only project, was taking away his time with you. You could barely spare a half hour to go by the lake. You traded chores with one of your siblings for more time in the greenhouse, leaving Luke to work with someone not nearly as entertaining as you.

The only time he got to really see you was early in the morning and late at night. And if he was losing his time to something else—or, gods forbid, someone else—he wanted to know what it was.

So right when you were leaving the greenhouse early that morning, Luke snuck in after you. He searched around, trying to find evidence of you anywhere, and when he did find it, he found his demise there, too.

Sitting next to your favorite pen was a potted plant. It resembled a venus fly trap, but immensely bigger. There were a cluster of them, some with large flowers growing out of the opened mouths. Luke stupidly had the urge to provoke the plant, driven by the desire to see them in action.

He took your favorite pen, and gently stuck it inside of the mouth.

When a puff of yellow smoke hit him square in the face, he hadn’t thought much of it.

When he stumbled out of the greenhouse with a fog in his head and dizziness, he thought it to be a single side effect.

When he started to feel warmer than usual, he thought it to be an effect of the insistent summer heat.

It’s not until he’s waking up on the ground that he really begins to worry.

His eyes open and he is immediately greeted with the sun attempting to blind him. He squints and raises a hand over his face, shielding both the sun and whoever stands over him.

When they speak, he doesn’t need his eyes to tell who he is joined by.

“Jesus, Castellan, if you didn’t scare the shit outta me just now I would be bragging about beating you.”

Luke groans and rolls onto his side. He’s still wearing his battle armor over his clothes and he suddenly feels uncomfortable, like everything has been made wrong or maybe like he has outgrown them. His camp shirt is too tight against his body, pressing the sweat back into his skin and not allowing for any breathing room. His shorts feel awkward in the crotch, as do his briefs. And his shoes are suffocating his feet.

There is nothing he wants more in this moment than to peel the armor and clothes off of his body and run down to the water. But he doesn’t know if the game has ended yet, nor does he know how long he has been out.

There are many unanswered questions he has, but the first one he starts with is, “Why are you here?”

He hears you scoff and knows you have rolled your eyes.

“We were sparring and you just passed out. I wasn’t just going to leave you here.”

He finally looks at you. His eyesight has readjusted to the light from the star above, so it stings just a bit less when he peers one eye open.

You add on, “I didn’t know if you had spontaneously died or something! And now that I know you’re fine…” You bend down and grab your helmet, situating it back on your head and standing at attention over Luke.

He needs to stand. The last thing he remembers is fighting you and he's never lost a fight to you. In his mind, he hasn’t surrendered, and you haven’t defeated him, so he needs to stand.

He tries to, he really does, but his knees get weak and as soon as he’s up, his head spins and he’s right back down.

You swear just before your knees are hitting the earth and you’re kneeling beside him.

Luke can feel you pressing the back of your hand against his forehead, he can hear you asking him a few questions, he can see your wide eyes staring into his heavy ones, but he can’t respond. He can’t do anything but worry about the bile rising in his throat, or focus on the shining water just behind you.

He doesn’t realize that he has begun moving until the bottom of his pants feel heavy with the weight of water.

When he’s in to his thighs, he collapses and lets the ripples wash over his body.

You don’t follow him until after him for a few moments, and when you do, you stand still at the shoreline. You let Luke soak the heat and sweat off of his skin as best as the circumstances allow, and you only speak to him once he’s standing right in front of you in soaked clothes and wet armor.

“What’d you take?”

At first, he’s not playing dumb. It just takes a moment for your words to plant in his mind. Then he plays dumb.

“Take? I don’t know what you mean.”

You don’t entertain his ditziness and instead begin making your case.

“You’re clearly on something, Luke. You’re sweating even though it’s as cool as it usually is. Your pupils are wide and your eyes go from restless to barely open. You keep fidgeting and every few minutes you twitch. And you’re standing here, talking to me, instead of helping the red team secure another win.”

Luke hadn’t noticed most of his symptoms. It’s not like he can notice anything other than the thoughts in his mind, especially when they give him images of your tits bouncing in his face and audible hallucinations of what you would sound like moaning his name.

He decides then and there that capture the flag doesn’t matter. Not when he has what he wants, the true glory, right in front of him.

He heard you, he processed your words, but the sight of your lips distracts him once more and prevents him from instantly responding. He stares instead, watching your mouth through lazy blinks.

He doesn’t even consider responding until you tut.

“If you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine. I’ll go get Maria L to take care of you then.”

Luke's eyes widen. Maria L is an excellent healer but she also has a pestering crush on Luke, one that encourages her to touch Luke with grazes that border on harassment and lack any professionalism.

“No! Not her.” Luke would feel bad about his reaction to the girls name if he didn’t have such a one track mind.

Your eyebrows raise to tell him to continue. He does so begrudgingly.

He picks at his fingernails and his cuticles until dead skin peels back to reveal blood. But the sting on his thumb doesn’t compare to the dull pain residing in his groin.

He knows that admitting the truth to you would open the possibility of criticism. His current … illness aside, you would never let him live down the day his nosiness actually reaped consequences. He briefly considers accepting defeat, walking away with his tail tucked between his legs, and taking control of the growing boner on his own.

He might be generally inexperienced in these situations, but even he knows that his own fist wouldn’t compare to even the slightest bit of attention from you.

He opens his mouth. “I went in the greenhouse.”

Your eyes widen as if Luke had confessed to committing a cardinal sin, and it’s then that Luke begins to really worry about himself.

“Did you …?” You don’t even have to finish your sentence before he nods. “Luke! You fucking-“

Not really in the mood for your chastising, Luke holds one hand up. He is able to silence you for only a second before you’re slapping his hand away. You’re yelling at him, both for trying to rudely shut you up, and for doing the one thing you told him not to do.

He sits and listens, waiting not-so-patiently for you to tire yourself out. He thought that point would come sooner than it does, but he’s sure that at least two minutes have passed and you’re showing no signs of stopping.

He rolls his eyes, he furrows his eyebrows, and he tries to discreetly adjust the boner in his cargos, but according to you, Luke has never been discreet a day in his life. He has never believed in your so-called ability to see right through him until your eyes pointedly drift to his crotch with his hand still attached to it.

Your insistent rambling ends unfinished. You blink, you don’t say anything. And then:

“Oh.”

At this point, he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. You fill the silence for him.

“Oh, Luke. I told you not to go in there because …”

His eyebrows lift. “Because what?”

You take a breath. “The plant, the Venus Fly, the pollen is an aphrodisiac.”

Luke knows what an aphrodisiac is, he isn’t dumb, but he still asks for clarification. And when you explain, he asks you to dumb it down. Even then, he blinks at you. Because you were right. His nosiness caused this.

He’s considering pitying himself whenever you suggest the one proposed solution, the only solution the Demeter and Apollo kids have been workshopping together ever since acquiring the plant from another kid's quest.

And when your solution comes, Luke determines that there is no way he could pity himself whenever he is in the position he’s been dreaming of for literal years.

He might not have envisioned this particular scenario, as his fantasies usually entailed the two of you alone in a bed not at Camp Half-Blood. But something about this makes him enjoy it more. Out in nature, in the open with many possibilities of being caught surrounding you both. His lips on yours, his lips surrounding yours, as he kisses you messily.

There is something perverse about the idea of getting to fuck you out in the open, gods willing. He didn’t think it was something he would be into, but it’s all he can think about when he’s rutting against you.

He breathes you in. “I’ve …” he takes a moment, rubbing his stiff cock against your crotch once more. He groans as he speaks. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

You hum, your hands fisting the part of the back of Luke’s shirt that isn’t covered by his armor.

“Luke,” you start and your voice is already full of hesitance. Luke isn’t sure he wants to hear what you have to say, but he knows it would be wrong not to. He busies himself with kissing your neck and under your jaw.

“It’s the pollen talking,” you tell him. “You’re not yourself. You’re basica-“ He bites down onto where he can feel your pulse thrumming under your skin. You gasp, loud and broken, before continuing. “You’re basically drugged.”

Somewhere deep down Luke knows that there’s logic in your statement, there usually is logic in your statements, besides during those times where you would say whatever came to your mind in the late hours of the night. But he doesn’t care, logic be damned.

He knows that he’s felt this way—or at least in the range of this way—for a while now. The pollen has just given him the confidence to act on his desires.

While the pollen has given him confidence, it hasn’t given him experience.

He sloppily kisses along your neck and jaw, not necessarily knowing what he’s doing but he knows he’s expected to suck at one point, so he does. He just wants to please.

You don’t react much to his lips on your skin, so he lifts a hand and slides it under your shirt and armor. The chest piece doesn’t allow for much maneuvering and Luke frowns against your skin before he separates completely to pull the armor off himself.

He knows the clasps on the metal as well as he knows clasps on his favorite pair of pants. Yet his hands fumble. Excitement and the effects of the pollen, he reasons. But his face becomes warm from something other than the two, something he would rather not fully acknowledge. Especially not when he’s about to get his dick wet in the warmth of the one person he’s wanted since he was old enough to actually understand sex.

You ask Luke if he wants your help with your usual teasing tone, but Luke doesn’t take kindly to it. As soon as he has the chest piece off, he has your shirt following it, and then his lips are back on yours.

If even possible, this kiss is heavier. Firmer. Meaner.

He still doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he calls onto the one other time he’d made out with someone. He remembers how he had been instructed to use his tongue and lick into his partner's mouth (a boy from the Ares cabin who stopped coming to camp a year ago). He had been kind to Luke when he didn’t know what he was doing, but now Luke feels like he needs to prove himself. He wants to prove himself. He wants to impress you.

What results is a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s messy, sloppy, and slobbery.

Luke likes it that way.

You pull away first.

Not much has been done, but you look a mess. Your lips are coated in saliva, probably yours and Luke’s, and pride floods his chest. You look flushed, too, and Luke sincerely hopes he’ll be able to amplify the emotion on your face soon thereafter.

“Slow down. Luke.” Your words are soft, gentle, and kind. Just like you. Just like your hands that card through his still-wet hair.

He winces, and not from the way your fingers snag on a cluster of curls. Wrongly assuming the cause of his sound, you apologize and smooth the patch of hair down. Your hands instead slide down Luke’s shoulders and he tries not to frown at the change.

“Sorry,” he admits. He gnaws on his bottom lip, already missing the feeling of yours, and finds himself continuing. “I haven’t really made out with anyone since …”

You nod, lips pulling up in the corners. “Theo?” Luke nods. “I know. We tell each other everything, remember?”

Not everything.

No one else is privy to the dreams Luke has about you. He has never told you, or anyone else, about all of the times he would fist his cock and chant your name in the showers late at night. In fact, when you would ask what took him so long, he would make up a lie about taking advantage of the hot water and solitude. While it was only a white lie, it was a lie nonetheless.

The innocent and naive look on your face as you accepted his lie by omission only made Luke’s cock harder.

You’re staring up at him now with a look different enough, but his reaction is the same. Your eyes hold interest, intrigue, a little bit of mischief, perhaps. You look sure of yourself, like you’ve done this and in this capacity multiple times before. But Luke knows about your experience, nearly the exact same as his save for a few details he wishes to erase.

When you had dished on your sexual history, Luke felt jealousy stirring deep in his stomach. He had been with other people, a guy and a girl, but that was in hopes of getting his mind off of you. Meanwhile, you had been with other people out of personal interest and not self-deluded necessity.

Either way, your experience is almost the same as Luke’s, and knowing so makes it easier for him to take the lead.

He kisses you again but he tries to go slower. Everything in him screams for him to speed up, to take you how he pleased, but he breathes and pushes the thoughts aside.

Taking it slow pays off when you work the armor off of Luke’s torso (without much difficulty at all), and then slide your hands under his orange shirt to rest your palms against his abs. The feeling of your skin against his is striking, even though the touch isn’t much at all. Pathetically, Luke is affected by the meaning more than the physicality.

“What do you feel now?” You ask him after pulling away from his lips.

Luke’s immediate reflex is to say “horny”.

You roll your eyes and absentmindedly scratch your nails against his abs. When he keens, he figures he’s hornier than even he thought.

“I mean other than that. Your skin is warm so I’m assuming you’re still nearing a fever, at least. Are you lightheaded? Nauseous? Anything?”

Luke feels like he’s been slapped in the face. You were asking about his symptoms like a healer. Like an Apollo kid. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were only touching him to gauge his temperature. Were you only doing this—kissing him—to keep his fever warded off? Did you even want this?

Rationally, he knows that you would do anything to help him. You’re his best friend, after all. But he wants you to want this, otherwise it would mean nothing. Otherwise, he wouldn’t even begin to hold a torch to your previous partners. He would be the one you laid with out of moral obligation and not interest.

He hadn’t been feeling nauseous before, but his throat starts to construct as if preparing to trigger his gag reflex.

He hasn’t responded and you’re looking at him inquisitively.

“Nauseous,” he starts. “Hot. Horny. Are you only doing this to keep me from dying?” The question messily tumbles out without him noticing.

You run your tongue over your teeth. “Yes. But there’s also personal benefits involved.”

Usually, Luke could decipher your maze-like answers. But he’s so hot and worked up and lacking an immense amount of patience.

“So you want to fuck me?”

Luke doesn’t continue his work until you respond.

“Yes, Luke. I want to fuck you.”

He has your shirt over your head in less than a minute. The button on your shorts is undone 30 seconds after that. He has completely forgotten about your plea to go slower, but even if he did remember he wouldn’t be able to comply.

He needs to feel you. All of you. Or else he might collapse then and there.

His hands run over your shoulders and torso gratefully, only appearing as the opposite whenever he runs into your bra (a sports bra, as he had assumed). As soon as he has the straps pulled down, he latches his lips onto the newly revealed skin.

Distantly, Luke thinks he would have liked to have been able to lay you back. He wants to see you laid out before him while you’re completely at his mercy. Luckily, he has learned to adapt. He has been dealt unfavorable cards in his life, and turned them into something worthy. He plans to do the same here and now.

As he sinks to his knees, he pulls your shorts down with him. You don’t have to be told to step out of them, but as soon as you do, you’re looking down at Luke with your eyebrows raised.

“Are you sure? I haven’t showered since yesterday and I’m really sweaty.”

Luke doesn’t pay any mind to your words. As you’re speaking, he already has his fingers forced under the elastic fabric of your panties.

“I’m sure.”

He pulls the fabric down.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

He pulls your leg over his shoulder, bringing your cunt straight to his face.

He has never gotten this far with someone before, he has never even seen examples of what to do in this position. He could back out. He could set your leg back down and only get his dick wet. But you smell so good, and you’re practically glistening in the sun, and you’re staring down at him expectantly so Luke slowly leans forward, sticks his tongue out, and gets to work.

‎

By the time Luke feels even a bit satiated, the sun has started to descend to its destination below the horizon, creating a soft blue hue over the sky.

You’re panting under him, your back and arms painted with dirt, just a bit smudged on your cheek and a few flecks of it strewn throughout your hair. Your stomach rises and falls with your breaths, drawing Luke’s attention to the fresh cum laying there. There’s some dried cum on your back, and just the smallest smudge at the corner of your lips. Luke doesn’t think much before he licks his thumb and wipes away the white crust from your mouth.

He sits back on his haunches and sighs with his head tilted to the sky. His hands rest on his thighs with an exorbitant amount of self control, as he desperately wishes to wrap his fingers around his semi-erect cock and jerk himself to another orgasm.

He thinks that most of the pollen has left his system by now, and at this point the desire he feels is natural. It’s the same desire he has felt for you for a while now, only amplified by the memory of what the real thing was like with you. It’s addicting. Luke truly cannot get enough, even though he has been out here with you for hours. Somewhere along the way, one of the teams won capture the flag. Luke wasn’t sure which one, but the triumphant yells in the distance alerted him of a victory. Somewhere between his third orgasm and your fourth, the conch for lunch blew off into the distance, but Luke had absolutely no concern for satisfying his physical hunger. He was too focused on the sight in front of him.

When he brings his vision back down, you’re sitting with your legs pulled in your chest and your arms wrapped around your calves.

“We should clean up and go have dinner,” you tell him, your voice weak and hoarse.

Fear strikes Luke still. You’re avoiding his eyes, staring down at the dirt, and speaking in a soft voice.

He shuffles closer to you, reaches out to touch you, and then he reconsiders. You take a deep breath, and Luke rests his hand on your elbow.

“Okay. Are you okay? I know that was a lot.”

You look at him and Luke feels a bit better, because while your eyes are a bit distant, you don’t look upset.

“I’ll be okay. ‘m just tired. But what about you, are you fine?”

There is still that nagging in the back of his head, telling him to take you one more time, but his logical part knows that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. He knows that you’ve had enough. Which means he, too, has had enough.

“I’m good.” He leans forward and presses a kiss into your hairline. He stands, pulls his boxers onto his lower half, and offers you his hand. “C’mon.”

You let Luke help you redress and hold his hand as he leads you back to camp the back way. You two come out of the forest right by the showers, where Luke tells you to wait while he does his best to sneakily run back to the cabins. He grabs himself a change of clothes, then sneaks into the Demeter cabin where he does the same for you.

He knows that he has just seen all of your intimate parts for hours on end, but holding your panties in his hand makes his ears redden. Blood threatens to rush down to his crotch but he fills his head with the most undesirable images until he reaches you.

Two showers are started, you and Luke stand back to back, and Luke enters his shower.

When the bathroom is covered in steam and you’ve both used the remnants of the hot water, you and Luke redress and reach the dining pavilion just in time for dinner.

He falls into the routine of a caring counselor easily. He answers insistent questions about his previous whereabouts with a passing “I was sick” that earns just enough sympathy and stops the questions all together. A few times he looks across the way to see you already looking at him. Instead of dropping his eyes or teasing you with the slyest middle finger he could muster, he smiles at you just slyly enough to not raise suspicion.

When offerings have been given, and Luke feels full in multiple ways, he finds you at the bonfire and sits with his leg flushed to yours.

He had just begun to think that all of the pollen was out until you rested your hand on his knee and he felt a jump in his stomach.

Goddamn it.

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes pjo #loser!luke

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rynbutt · 19 days

Text

pierced. pt. 4 | spencer reid.

"Focus here, sweetie."

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ content, suggestive as fuck, making out, nipple stuff (my finger slipped), fluff

a/n: this made me feral

He had been gone for weeks.

You hadn’t seen Spencer in almost four weeks after your little date at his desk. Case after case came through and he and his team were sent all over the country. You came to understand that Spencer’s job was hectic, wondering how any of them had social lives at all with how often they were called into work only to disappear for days or weeks at a time.

Spencer had called you a handful of times while he was in Illinois, telling you all about the UnSub they caught while you were half asleep working late at your desk. But after that, it was radio silence from Spencer and you could only assume he was neck deep in work just like you.

You sat at your desk, leaning back in your chair with a loud sigh. You were sure your boss had it out for you, given how you were basically the last one in the office trying to finish up a project. You tried to take it as a compliment that they trusted you to handle these things but god you just wanted to go home, pour a glass of wine, put on a face mask and pretend to have your shit together.

The exhaustion made your eyelids feel heavy and your vision blurry. You let out a tired yawn, attempting to blink away the deep desire to crawl under your desk and nap. The sudden buzz of your phone kept you from nodding off at your computer.

Spence: Are you home?

You: Nah, I’m at work, sorry :(

Spence: Still? Isn’t it a bit late?

You: What can I say, I’m an ass-kisser

Spence: Have you had anything to eat?

You: Not yet, I’ll worry about that later

Spencer read your message but didn’t reply. You turned your focus back to your work, sipping on your cold coffee to hopefully bring you back to earth. After forty-five minutes and another two cups of coffee, you finally finished your project. You were in the midst of sending a half-assed email to your project manager when you heard the elevator ding.

“Is Y/N still here?” You heard Spencer’s voice and your heart fluttered.

“Oh yeah, she’s just around the corner,” one of your coworkers replied. You rolled your chair back from your desk, peering around the corner as a lost little Spencer looked around.

“Spencer?” You called softly. His eyes darted to the sound of your voice, his face lighting up at the sight of you. He looked so precious in his sweater, with his messy hair and mismatched colourful socks. He did a little run down the row of cubicles to your desk, holding a plastic bag of what you assumed was takeout.

You stood up to greet him, the exhaustion suddenly dissipating, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to bring you dinner,” he replied, holding the bag of the best smelling food out for you.

You pouted at the gesture, “Spencer, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. As a thank you for bringing me dinner the other week,” he said with a smile.

“Wait… how did you know where to find me?” You raised a brow at him, staring at him sideways. Spencer’s face went red, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“I’m sure you told me,” he lied.

“You’re a bad liar.”

“Garcia maybe… did some digging,” he replied under his breath, staring at everywhere but you.

You playfully punched his shoulder, “you stalker,” you laughed.

You pulled another chair over for Spencer, sitting down at your desk and finally pulling your dinner out. You don’t know where Spencer found this food but it was probably the best thing you’d ever eaten… but you also hadn’t fed yourself in 12 hours so maybe your judgement was slightly skewed.

“When did you get back?” you asked, mouth full of food.

“Two hours and four minutes ago,” Spencer replied, playing with the little Hello Kitty figurines on your desk.

“Spencer!” you scolded. “You must be exhausted!”

“I’m okay, really,” he quickly said. He let out a breath, shyly avoiding your gaze, “and… I wanted to see you.”

You smiled softly at his confession, reaching over to move some of his messy hair out of his face, “you’re cute.”

“Thank you,” he beamed.

The two of you sat at your desk for another hour as you ate your dinner and finished up your passive-aggressive email to your manager. Spencer helped you clean up your small collection of mugs and carried your bag for you while you cleaned up your desk. You walked to the elevator together, reaching up to gently grasp Spencer’s hand in your own.

“This okay?” You asked.

“Y-yeah, of course,” he replied quickly, feeling his hands going clammy and praying you didn’t notice.

You were lucky you lived within walking distance to your job, it proved to be very convenient for exercise and the price of fuel didn’t murder your already dusty bank account. Spencer opted to drive you home since it was late and he wanted to make sure you were safe. You tried to offer him cash for fuel but he waved you off (you hit twenty dollars in his glove box).

Spencer pulled up outside your apartment building, the two of you sitting in a comfortable silence for a moment before you spoke, “you… want to come up?”

“Oh… yeah, yeah, sure I can,” Spencer replied nervously, clearing his throat.

“You don’t have to,” you laughed.

“No, no, I want to,” he said quickly, putting his car in park and taking his keys out of the ignition.

The two of you walked up to your apartment, Tofu rubbing against Spencer’s leg upon his arrival. Spencer was delighted by this revelation (he’d done a lot of research on cats after finding out you had a cat).

“Did you know cats rub up against you like this as a way of putting their scent on you?” Spencer said, running his hand along Tofu’s back, “so other cats know you’re theirs?”

“I didn’t know that,” you lied, of course you knew. But you would never let Spencer stop talking. You shrugged off your coat, tossing it over one of the chairs at your kitchen table. “Make yourself comfy, I’m just gonna go change.”

Spencer watched as you walked to your bedroom, Tofu trotting behind you. He awkwardly shuffled around your apartment, admiring the polaroid photos stuck to your fridge of what he assumed was your friends from your hometown. He smiled softly at how happy you looked. A particular photo of you at a halloween party made his face heat up. You were wearing a white lacy bralette, a white skirt and angel wings. Your friend next to you was dressed like the devil and your other friend dressed as… the Pope?

But that’s not what caught his eye, it was the fact he could clearly see your breasts through your see through top. He could see the little gold studs on either side of your pert nipples, truly juxtaposing the whole angel costume. Spencer had honestly almost forgotten you had your nipples pierced (no he didn’t).

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” you almost scared Spencer out of his skin. He was so distracted by your… assets, he didn’t hear you leave your room.

“Uh, nothing- nothing… just this,” he grabbed the closest thing to him, which happened to be your toaster.

“My… toaster?” your eyes narrowed.

“Yup, love this model,” Spencer nodded, putting your pink toaster back down on the counter.

You glanced at the polaroids on your fridge, deciding not to embarrass him further, “you want a drink? I have wine, wine and… wine?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I need to drive home,” Spencer waved you off before shoving his hands in his pockets. Spencer glanced at your outfit, the baby blue tank and grey shorts made a comeback and now he was rethinking the whole ‘wanna come up?’ scheme.

“How bout a coffee?” you asked.

Spencer gave a tight-lip smile, “Sure.”

You made Spencer his coffee and watched as he almost emptied your sugar jar. You poured yourself a glass of wine before sitting down on your plush couch, patting the spot next to you for Spencer. He sat down next to you, taking a sip of his sugar drink. He looked positively adorable drinking coffee from your Kirby mug.

“You should tell me about your recent case,” you said, tucking your legs under your butt, giving Spencer your undivided attention.

“...You want to hear about that?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Duh, of course,” you retorted. “I like listening to you talk, Spencer.”

Spencer’s heart quickened at your genuine words, making him beam internally and his brain turn to mush. Spencer proceeded to tell you about the BAU’s most recent case, a string of seemingly unrelated murders of college students at house parties. Your heart leapt to your throat when Spencer told you how the UnSub started shooting at him and Emily before he was arrested.

“If you get shot, I’ll be so mad,” you told him after he finished his story.

“Okay, I’ll try not to get shot,” Spencer grinned, “so you won’t get mad.”

“Correct answer,” you nodded, downing the last of your wine. Spencer watched you as you stretched your arms over your head, a yawn pulling from your wine-stained lips. His eyes darted to your blue tank top, one of the thin straps falling off your shoulder. Your apartment was cold and your nipples pressed against the thin fabric of your top.

Spencer reached a hand over, gently lifting the strap of your top back over your shoulder, his warm hands making the hairs on your skin prickle. You glanced up at Spencer as he retracted his hand, quickling reaching your own hand out to grab his wrist.

Spencer stared at you with wide eyes, so beautiful and brown.

“Do you… want to see?” You asked quietly, your voice low.

Spencer looked at you, unsure of what you meant, “See what?”

You smiled, “My piercings,” you clarified.

Spencer felt like he exploded. His cheeks went red at the idea of seeing your breasts and the tiny intimate piercing he had only seen through your shirt and in his mind late at night. Sure, he had seen breasts before but he had never seen yours and that’s what made him nervous.

“I know you must be curious,” you said after Spencer didn’t reply. Spencer opened his mouth, attempting to form a single coherent thought. “Earth to Spencer?” you sang softly.

“I, uhm-”

“You don’t want to?” You asked.

“No, I do!” He quickly said before the weight of what he said hit him, “Wait, no… Y/N, I like you and I don’t want you to think that I’m only here to see… that,” he gestured vaguely.

You grabbed his hand gently, leaning over to kiss his cheek softly, “I like you too, Spence,” you muttered, his eyes finally meeting yours, “and I don’t think that you’re only here for that, trust me, guys have before and you’re not them.”

Spencer felt jealousy at the thought of other men seeing such an intimate part of you nag at the back of his mind. You watched his expression change, knowing his big genius brain was in overdrive. You reached a hand up to cup his face gently, bringing his attention back to you.

“Focus here, sweetie,” you whispered with a smile.

“Sorry,” Spencer whispered back.

“I don’t have to show you if it makes you uncomfortable-”

“I am curious,” Spencer interrupted, his voice nervous and quiet. You let out an airy laugh at his sweetness and let go of his face, sitting up straight.

Spencer swallowed the painful lump in his throat as you crossed your arms, fingers grasping the hem of your tank top. His eyes never left yours as you lifted the fabric over your heart, your breasts fully on display for him to see.

It took all of Spencer’s courage to glance down.

And god you were perfect.

Your breasts were smooth and soft, your nipples hard against the chilly air of your apartment. If Spencer were any less respectable, he would be drooling. His eyes stared at the gold jewellery threaded through your hard nipples. He had never seen anything quite as attractive as this and he was sure that nipple piercings were the single greatest thing to ever exist.

“...You’re giving me the wrong idea, Spence,” you chuckled after he stayed quiet for several minutes, simply admiring your beauty.

“I-I’m sorry,” he quickly said, “You’re just…”

“Bit weird, you think?”

“Perfect,” he said, looking up at you again. “You’re just… perfect.”

A small smile graced your lips, “Do you… want to touch?”

“I-I’m not very good at… any of this,” Spencer quickly replied, all he wanted to do was impress you and this was sending him spiralling.

“I don’t care about that, Spencer,” you grabbed his hand, “I like you, I trust you and I want it if you do.”

Spencer kept his eyes on you, “I… Yes. I want to.” He let you guide his hand to your breast. His hand was warm and large, cupping the soft plush skin gently. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt your soft skin, curious and nimble fingers exploring your skin. His thumb came up to touch the cool metal of your piercing, your breath catching in your throat at the feeling, “Sorry,” he quickly said, pulling his hand away.

“No, no, it’s okay… they’re just sensitive. An added perk of nipple piercings,” you replied. Spencer nodded, taking a mental note as his hand reached back out to touch your skin again.

You wrapped your hand gently around his wrist, catching his attention. Spencer’s beautiful eyes stared into yours and you lost it. Your hands reached out, pulling him in by his tie to plant a hard kiss against his lips. Spencer’s hand cupped the side of your neck, tilting your head back to kiss you deeper. Your hands came to hold the back of his head, fingers tangling in his soft hair.

He pulled away to breathe, thumb stroking over your cheek, “are you okay with this?” he whispered slowly.

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Then so am I.”

That was all the encouragement Spencer needed to kiss you again, pulling you closer until you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling his waist as you kissed him. You tasted slightly of wine and sweetness, the smell of your perfume sending him dizzy. Spencer’s hands came down to rest on your waist, his thumbs resting against your ribs.

“You want to keep going?” You asked breathlessly against his lips.

“I don’t want to stop,” Spencer replied just as breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. You whined softly as one of his hands reached up to grasp your breast again, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your pert nipple.

“Spencer,” you whined, your hands grasping at the hair on the back of his neck. He planted a kiss on the column of your throat, then another to the small divot of your collarbone, and another to your sternum. His fingers gently pinched your nipple, making you whine softly. “Not good at this, my ass,” you breathed.

“I have an IQ of 187,” Spencer retorted, “I remember a lot.”

“Clearly,” you replied, lifting his head back up to kiss him again.

a/n: i hope everyone is okay with the lack of smut, i just want everyone to feel comfy (i'll totally write it in a future chapter ;) if you want tho)

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer #dr reid #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #cm spencer #cm spencer reid #i want a boyfriend so bad #give me a chance spencer

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