#i should not be this fucking exhausted at 22
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UGH it’s like embarrassing how poorly I cope with like the slightest unpleasant situation. What ever
#I get so easily overwhelmed by anything & it always feels like the end of the world like get OVER it it’s fucking exhausting!!!!#I can understand feeling this way all the time when I was a teenager bc well. I was a teenager but im almost 22 I feel like I should have#gotten my shit together by nowwwww & I hate that I put that shame on myself like that too bc I know no ones gotten their shit together at 22#let alone other autistics but it’s ANNOYING. & I’m sick ofe it! -_-
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✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — nagi seems to feel a new bout of motivation everytime he looks at you.
ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings: f!reader, all characters written 22+, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, not proof-read. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note: i’m tryna write more again so pls take this lil nagi blurb while i try to find some motivation ueueue :3
nagi doesnt know what this feeling is, he thinks as he gives you a lazy, hazed blink from where he’s curling over you and you’re blinking back through your own lust-clouded gaze — lips parted into an ‘o’ as you gasp out a pretty, dreamy seishiro.
he’s already came, he can feel it in the way oversensitivity stings along his thick shaft — making his pace stutter despite the way he still continues to sink himself into the tight hug of your pussy. every deep kiss of his cock along your swollen sensitive spots make him twitch as every wet connection of his hips with yours squelches loudly, drawing back his hips to give the gooey rim of your cum around the base a drowsy look that only seems to make him throb.
should stop now, cleanin’ up is gonna be bothersome.. nagi thinks but he only seems to pull you closer despite the way you’re panting out his name as his hips rock with yours, feeling him nuzzle himself into the crook of your neck with the next languid roll of his hips.
“ah..” what a paaain, nagi thinks again but “..feels too good.” is what he says as his hips stutter, deeper into the warm hug of your body as you press your chest close to his — fingers tugging at the messy mop of white hair that’s slightly wet with sweat.
“sei.. y-you don’t have to keep going, ah—came already.” he feels hazy but nagi knows he’s sweating hard — panting against your skin as he buries himself into you and he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him.. this feeling, he doesn’t want to pull away. not yet.
“nah, ‘m good.” he grumbles before he’s following it up with a sloppy kiss smeared against your jawline, another deep press of his hips against yours and he thinks it feels even fucking better this time when you’re still trembling from your orgasm. you’re holding him tighter, sucking him right in with every slick withdrawal before he pushes into you again and a mixture of his cum and yours spills out — smearing along his pelvis and your thighs with every grind of his cock into you.
“..don’t wanna be done yet, angel.” nagi’s voice trembles but it feels like his body is moving faster than his mind can keep up with. he’s breathing deep, he wants a bath and to cuddle up with you to play games for the rest of the night but the way you’re looking at him, doe-eyed as pretty tears cling along the corners of your lashes makes him feel better, like a relief from the sting of exhaustion and he can’t help but want to explore that feeling.
you just look so pretty when you cum, he wonders if he can make you do that again.
“i want another one.”
© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#blue lock x you#blue lock smut#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk smut#bllk x you#nagi x you#nagi x reader#nagi smut#nagi seishiro smut#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi seishiro x you
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darksided (myg)
Min Yoongi adored you. He'd simply never hurt you - unless you asked.
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader | Darksided AU
Type: One-Shot - SMUT (You must be 18+ to ride this ride.) Sequel to foresight, but can be read as a stand-alone fic.
Word Count: 4.4K
Content: established relationship au; soft bf yoongi turned mean!dom!yoongi at the request of sub!reader; p in v penetration; unprotected sex/creampie (be safe, y'all); oral sex (m receiving); brief face-fucking; v fingering; squirting; a lil degradation and spit kink, as a treat; harsh language; after-care; also cavity-inducing fluff
A/N: This was nine (9) pages in Word - my longest smut ever, all because this man-bun era has got me FUCKED up. Barely proofread (sorry ily). Check out my other fics here. Listen to the playlist here.
12/11/22 A/N: The sequel, blindsided, is finally here! check it out when you're done here :)
“When I signal you, that’s when you press the button, okay?”
Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared down at his recording equipment – a galaxy in its own right, lit up like a Christmas tree. He may as well have asked you to defuse a bomb, except you couldn’t even identify the bomb. “There are approximately three thousand buttons in front of me right now,” you whined.
He was exhausted and you knew it – you could feel it – but his patience with you was, as always, limitless. His fondness for you still shone through his eyes, overpowering the dark circles looming below, as if he hadn’t made a mistake in inviting you into his office. Then there was his laugh, surprising enough to smack you but so soft that it cradled you. “It’s the only one that says ‘record,’ jagiya.”
A quick survey of the landscape before you indicated that this was a criminal oversimplification. There was a minimum of four options fitting his description, and all of them looked both breakable and expensive. You blinked down at the sound board, then back up at him, dumbfounded. “I think you made a mistake letting me in here.”
Again, with the laugh – knocking you prone, nudging you closer to an early grave. Somehow, out of all of time and space, you got to exist in the same lifetime that he did. How lucky you were to have him, and his wind chime laugh all to yourself.
You were lovesick and it was chronic.
“Look down at your left hand – no, baby, don’t move it – that knob above your middle finger?” He was standing on tiptoe inside the booth, gesturing as if he was landing a plane. Your eyes darted up to follow the path of his fingers, then back down to the board. “Go diagonally up from that knob for two rows. Do you -”
Overcome with a sense of unearned pride, you pressed down on the button, beaming. You certainly had not been signaled, but nonetheless, your efforts were rewarded. Importantly, that reward was now recorded for prosperity. Your favorite mixtape, the soundtrack of your racing heart, a lullaby: “I really couldn’t love you more if I tried.”
His wide smile, like his tone, was sweet enough to cause a cavity. You were folded up like a pretzel in his chair, but somehow, your knees still seemed to wobble.
You were lovesick and it was terminal.
“Should I shut it off now until you’re ready to start?” You asked with cheeks glowing pink.
He shook his head, still grinning. “I can cut it down. I do need you to cue the track, though – when I signal you.” He stated the last bit of his sentence slowly, shooting you a pointed look and then a wink.
You were once lovesick and now you are dead.
Finger hovering over the ‘play’ button, you watched him wide-eyed, anxious to avoid another mishap. His faith in you may have been unshakeable, but yours wasn’t – and this third mixtape was his magnum opus. You’d rather explode into a cloud of dust than mess up the tireless work he’d put into it so far.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself. Without looking, he raised his hand and pointed silently to you. Within seconds, your mind was blown.
Min Yoongi contained multitudes. Despite your years together, it never ceased to amaze you how your beloved introvert – who said more with actions than anyone could communicate with words – could transform the way he did. Moments ago, his voice was a blanket, fresh out of the dryer, but now? Now, his presence electrified you. There was an unapologetic confidence – callousness, even - that you only saw when he rapped.
Even his body language changed, like he’d evolved right before your eyes. You couldn’t look away because there was nothing else worth looking at – just him, top to bottom. The way he held his head, lips nearly touching the microphone, highlighted the deadly curve of his jaw. Carved from marble, luminescent and sharp. The strain of his neck, vibration visible in the column of his throat as he growled out his bars. Then down, down, down to his hands. His rings caught the light from above him, refracting slivers of white as his fingers moved with the beat.
Oh, how you wanted them wrapped around your throat.
Seeing him like this had you spellbound – feral, if you were being honest. As you watched, bottom lip clamped hard between your teeth, a heatwave crashed over you; it burned you from the inside out. Sometimes, you dreamt about this version of him. Your Yoongi adored you. He showered you with affection, respect, and praise. He’d never dream of hurting you.
But would he, if you asked?
You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear him finish the take.
“Aegiya?” There was a hint of concern in his voice that told you he’d called out to you more than once already.
You swallowed hard and shifted in his chair. “Yes?”
He slid his wireless headphones down until they rested around his neck. The bright red band leaned against his cheekbone as he tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Are you alright? You looked like you were in a trance.”
He wasn’t wrong. You were hypnotized, and it was entirely his fault.
When you merely hummed in response – too distracted by his features to form a coherent sentence – he opened the door to the booth and stepped out. He pulled the headphones off completely and set them down on the counter before walking straight to you.
You were vibrating. Could he feel it?
The trembling only intensified when he reached you. Looking down at you, he ran the pad of his thumb over your cheek.
“Tell me.” He said, as if that brief touch informed him of the maelstrom spinning circles in your brain. “Something’s got you dizzy.”
Psychic.
Suddenly, you were shy. This man knew and loved every single aspect of you, and still you felt embarrassed. If you begged him to fuck you – not just make love to you – would he laugh at you? Even worse, would he be offended? You didn’t want him to think that what you had wasn’t already perfect because it was.
His eyes scanned your face, narrowing just slightly as he tried to read your mind. The two of you were silent for what felt like hours before you saw it – his pupils dilating, offset by the spark of silent understanding. The corner of his mouth twitched when he cracked the secret code. The hand caressing your cheek lowered slowly until it came to rest on your throat, thumb harshly directing your jaw – and your gaze - upwards.
“Is it me, baby?” He teased with a voice like velvet, cocking his head to the side with a smirk that left you stupid. “Have I got you dizzy?”
Involuntarily, you whimpered. So stunned by his stare that you were speechless. Melting into a puddle. Dripping.
He exhaled sharply through his nose – a cruel, quiet laugh - and his eyes darkened further. “I can’t give you what you want if you can’t tell me what that is.”
Once again, you shifted in your seat. You were suddenly so painfully aware of every nerve in your body, each one tingling like a live wire. Even your thighs clenched, trying desperately to apply pressure where you needed it most. You craved him so badly that it ached.
“I don’t want you to be gentle with me,” was your answer, though it sounded more like a question. “I - I know that you -”
His hand shifted quickly from underneath your jaw. He now had your cheeks pinned between his thumb and middle finger, squeezing hard to cut off your sentence before you could finish it. There was a microscopic pause as his eyes searched yours for permission. You blinked and nodded to the fullest extent you could within his grasp.
“Stupid girl. You know nothing.”
Muffled by his hand, your weak moan was barely audible, but he could feel the way your breathing quickened. The rise and fall of your eager chest. The way your nipples, yet untouched, made themselves known through the fabric of the t-shirt you’d stolen from him. Draped in him but smelling like you.
Blackcurrant, orange blossoms, vanilla.
He leaned down, mouth now hovering beside your ear. The heat of his breath on your neck was maddening, but it was the way his lips brushed against your ear that proved fatal. When he spoke, it echoed in every one of your bones. A whisper heavy enough to bruise. “Get up.”
You followed the lead of his hand over your mouth and rose to your feet. Sharply, he redirected your gaze to the seat you’d just left. It was inexplicable how something so faint could be so blatant. That nearly imperceptible spot, snitching on you; showing him how your body begged for him.
“Such a messy girl, ruining my chair like that.” He tutted. “I should punish you, shouldn’t I? Should I ruin you, baby?”
Held so still, your knees still trembled. Without his hand gripping your cheeks, you would’ve crumpled at his feet. Before you could do so yourself, he forced you downward. After all, your knees couldn’t buckle if they were digging into the hardwood.
He released his grasp and used that same hand to push his hair away from his eyes. Your heart raced as if you were sprinting, and yet you were frozen in place. You didn’t know where to begin because you wanted everything.
Your indecision prompted him to roll his eyes. “Do I have to do everything for you? Say it. What do you want?”
“T-to touch you. Please,” you begged, “I want to feel you in my throat.”
He beckoned you silently with a curl of his finger. You sat up further on your knees and reached out tentatively for the drawstring tied at the waistband of his joggers.
“Stop.” He ordered, and you did. Looking down at your wide eyes, his smirk deepened. Your hands fidgeted uselessly in your lap as he began untying the drawstring himself – his slow pace was torturous. You'd have ripped them off his body if given the chance. “Open your mouth”
Again, you did as you were told.
It took everything you had not to drool when he lowered the waistband of his joggers just enough for his cock to spring out. Already throbbing, beige tip glistening with pre-cum in the half-light. He took himself in his hand and began to pump himself as he took a step towards your waiting mouth.
"Stick out your tongue."
Now, you couldn’t help it – and when he saw the string of saliva spilling from the tip of your tongue, he growled.
“Fuck,” He breathed, sliding the fingers of his free hand into your hair and tugging. “Look at how badly you want to be used - you're begging without saying a word.”
You couldn’t speak, but your eyes were screaming at him. Please.
Teasingly, he tapped the tip of his cock against your tongue, hissing as he felt the wet heat of your mouth. But when you went to close your lips around him, he pulled your hair – and you – away.
“Spit on it – slowly. Keep your eyes on me.”
You felt a twinge between your thighs as he delivered his orders. You’d undoubtedly soaked through your little sleep shorts already, but his tone just then made a mess of you. You squirmed as you kneeled, feeling the rivulets of slick begin to trail down the innermost part of your thighs. And he hadn’t even touched you yet.
Looking up at him from under the curtain of your lashes, you saw the wicked fascination flicker in his eyes. The way his breath hitched as he watched your spit fall from the ledge of your lips until it connected with his shaft. In your peripheral vision, you could see his cock twitch at the contact.
“Now open.” Finally.
A low moan broke from the depths of his chest as he slid into your mouth, and you couldn’t recall a more beautiful sound. As you pushed yourself further onto him, you hallowed your cheeks, following the vein running along the underside of his length with your tongue.
You stared up at him through wet eyes. So full, you pleaded with yourself not to gag, to breathe steadily through your nose. Tip pushing past your soft palate, he grunted as he bottomed out. Without softening his gaze, he watched for your reaction – always so concerned, even when he was pretending not to be. To his surprise, you swallowed, allowing the tightness of your throat to squeeze him.
“You’re fucking filthy.” He muttered with his eyes screwing shut. His jaw fell open when you slid off him, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock once you reached it. His eyes followed suit, blown out pupils fixated on the spit dribbling down your chin; darkening at the obscene sound of him sliding through the suction you'd so masterfully generated.
Pulling your hand from your lap, you reached out slowly for his balls. As your fingers massaged him, his grip on your hair got tighter. Almost imperceptibly, he began to roll his hips against your mouth.
His panting was interlaced with curses as he fucked himself into your warmth. “Fit so fucking perfectly in your throat,” He grunted, “Like you were made to be my toy.”
It startled you when he suddenly removed himself from you. Thoughtlessly, you whined – and then, immediately, you froze. Eyes darting back up to him, the anticipation of consequences prevented you from closing your mouth fully. You waited there on your knees, trembling, while your mascara pooled uselessly in the wells beneath your eyes.
“Somebody feels entitled,” He scoffed as he glowered down at you. “You better be careful what you wish for.”
Before you could process the speed of his movements, his arms hooked under yours and pulled you from the ground. Your legs ached, but as he loomed over you, you followed his unspoken order, backing yourself into a corner. With your shoulder blades pressed flush against the wall, he stepped forward and used his knee to push your legs apart.
For a moment, it seemed like his façade was cast aside. He raised his hand slowly to caress your cheek, swirling soft circles into your flushed skin with his thumb. Out of habit, your eyes drifted shut and you leaned further into his touch. And when he leaned in, just as slowly, your slightly parted lips waited for a kiss that never came.
“You’re just begging to be filled, aren’t you?” He asked in a whisper so sharp it stung. “Not loved but fucked.”
You nodded shyly. “Y-yes,” You stuttered, “Please.”
His lips still lingered closely enough to touch yours, to send shockwaves shooting down your spine, but he continued to withhold his affection. This was the first time – ever – that Yoongi had turned down an opportunity to kiss you. Until now, he didn't seem capable of doing so.
“Please what?”
“Fuck me. Please -” You keened as his hand began to drift from your cheek, down your neck. In the blink of an eye, every word you knew disappeared from your vocabulary. The tip of his index finger trailed down over the fabric of your stolen shirt, between the valley of your breasts, and came to rest at the hem.
He pinched the seam between his fingers and tugged. “Part of me wants to tear this off you,” He mused with his head tilting to one side. His eyes remained locked on yours; the amusement in them was clear, even in the darkness. “But most of me wants to see you fucked out and stupid - in my shirt.”
Your legs threatened to give out yet again. He was devastatingly handsome under normal circumstances, but this newly unearthed cockiness was ruinous. You bit down hard on your lip as he raised your shirt enough to access the waistband of your shorts. With his help, you shimmied them down until they dropped quietly at your feet. Quickly and clumsily, you stepped out of them and kicked them aside.
Yoongi’s hand rose again to your face. His middle and ring finger were extended; the others curled down towards his palm. You didn’t need to be asked to open your mouth – it was the only response your eager mind could conjure. His fingers were cool against your tongue as you closed your mouth around them. And when he was satisfied with the lubrication you’d provided, he slid his fingers out from your hollowed cheeks with a lewd pop.
“How badly do you want to come all over my fingers?”
It’s a wonder there wasn’t a puddle beneath you, considering how those words made you gush. “I need it,” You pleaded with fluttering eyelids and bated breath, “Please touch me.”
You whimpered and closed your eyes as you felt his fingers dive into the pool between your thighs. Every nerve lit up like a switchboard as he slipped through your soft folds. He scoffed at how wet you were – so soaked that it was audible in each millimeter of his movement.
Simultaneous to his middle finger penetrating you, your head rolled back until it rested against the wall. Your mouth fell open, but you were too entranced to do much more than breathe as you acclimated to his presence inside you. He started slowly, curling his finger upwards as he pushed further inwards. Even at this pace, the otherwise dead air was filled with the sound of your sodden cunt.
“You’re dripping already?" He let the tip of his finger rest against the spongy spot behind your pubic bone; the pressure was incredible, but he stayed torturously still. “And yet you’re so - tight.” Achingly slow, the pad of his finger spiraled against your g-spot. “I’ll have to stretch you out before I can bury my cock in you.”
As his ring finger plunged inside of you, you cried out, head slumping forward against his shoulder. Sensing that you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up for much longer, Yoongi grabbed the back of your right thigh with his left hand and pulled your leg up to rest against his hip. With this new angle, his fingers ventured even deeper until they bottomed out at the knuckle. He didn’t give you much time to adjust to the new sensation.
As he fucked his fingers into you at a feverish pace, he continued his mind-numbing assault on your g-spot. Over and over, he toyed with you; thrusting, stretching, scissoring, and teasing as your arousal trickled into the palm of his hand. There was an intoxicating – unbearable – warmth burning in the pit of your abdomen. A sensation so all-consuming that your eyes rolled back in your head.
Your walls clenched around him, sucking him in and begging for more as your helpless heart raced. “Oh my god,” You wailed, “Holy shit – Please, I’m - Yoongi!”
Your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Never in your life had you fallen apart like that – shaking and speaking in tongues. Having sensed the swell of pressure, Yoongi knew exactly where this road headed; and he could tell that you were fighting it. “Don't hold back from me,” He growled.
And then the dam broke.
A wicked grin danced across his face as the wave of pleasure crashed onto the floor below you. “Fuck. Look at this.” He pointed downward and your bleary gaze followed. Remnants of your orgasm had splashed onto his joggers as well as the hardwood. “Nobody could ever make you come like I can. Say it.”
The words bubbled out of your chest, half-way between a sob and a moan. “Nobody can make me come like you.”
You were a shivering, spilling mess; and your ears were still ringing from how intensely your every muscle had clenched. Before your knee could buckle, you were abruptly swept up into his arms. With one arm wrapped tightly around your back, his free hand slid over the surface of his desk, sending various papers and cords rocketing towards the floor.
Once the space was cleared, he set you down and laid you out onto the cool surface. You were exhausted and thankful to be horizontal; though you knew he wasn’t yet finished with you.
After all, he intended on ruining you.
Through half-lidded eyes, you gazed up at him. The hair he’d so neatly tied into a bun at the top of his head had mutinied; inky tendrils were now splayed out haphazardly in different directions. You were fuck-drunk, but you swore the overhead light behind him encircled his head like a halo. It was all so unholy - the way he stood before the altar of your exposed core, with his face angelic and his throbbing cock in hand.
The hand not pumping his cock slid over your bent knee. It took tremendous effort, but you lifted your arm to place your hand on top of his. One tiny squeeze – a brief, loving check-in – received an echo. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the fleeting moment of tenderness was gone. With each of your legs now trapped in his hold, he pulled you towards the very edge of the table.
Once he was satisfied with your closeness, his focus switched to his access. He simply wasn’t content to leave your legs bent up at either side of him; so, he rested the backs of your legs against his shoulders and leaned forward until you’d nearly folded in half.
He didn’t need to use his hand to center himself prior to entering you. His body understood the proportions of yours automatically; like you were puzzle pieces created to fit perfectly together. Though his intention may have been to penetrate you slowly, centimeter by centimeter, your slick was overwhelming. The usual ache you felt upon acclimating to his size was drastically reduced; and he bottomed out quickly, cursing.
The fullness you felt was euphoric, and it left you mewling hopelessly under the weight of his body. He was buried deep, throbbing as your walls constricted around his width. It shocked your system when he slid out almost completely only to drive himself back into you.
“Like a fucking vice grip,” Yoongi hissed as he picked up his already brutal pace. Every curve, every vein dragged maddeningly along your walls as he fucked you. “Do you hear how wet you are? Shit – your pussy is begging for me.”
The only thing louder than the squelch of your cunt was skin hitting skin; close behind was the way your name spilled from his lips in a flurry of expletives. You, on the other hand, were nearly incoherent. With every thrust, he knocked another thought loose until eventually, you had nothing left. Relentlessly, his cock grinded against your g-spot, leaving you too mesmerized to recall your own name.
There was a sheen of sweat above his knitted brows; and his bottom lip was now trapped between his gritted teeth. He was close and you knew it. The depth of his thrusts didn’t falter, but his steady pace was getting harder for him to maintain. You felt the rubber band inside you beginning to fray - on the brink of snapping and shooting you into orbit like a sling-shot.
“Baby,” The soft, shaky voice caught his attention. He opened his eyes and focused hard on you – your flushed cheeks, and trembling lips. As he surveyed you, his resolve began to evaporate; his expression softened immediately. There he was: your Yoongi. “You’re gonna make me come again.”
As your walls clenched tight around him, the edges of your vision began to blur. You watched his face as he came shortly after you, studying how delicately his eyelashes fluttered as the warmth of his release filled you. In that moment, it was the two of you, toppling in slow-motion off the edge of the universe. Irrevocably in love - heaving chests, shuddered moans, names whispered in the place of prayers.
He shifted his arms to allow your quivering legs to fall from his shoulders. When the hands on either side of your head could no longer hold up his weight, he collapsed onto you. With his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, you could feel his breathing begin to slow as his cock softened inside you.
You were nearly delirious when you felt his lips buzz against your skin. You were too far gone to understand what he was too exhausted to communicate. “Hmm?” You hummed, wordlessly asking him to repeat himself.
He groaned with the effort of pulling himself away from your embrace. He only traveled far enough to glance over at you. “I said, I think several of my past lives just flashed before my eyes,” He stated matter-of-factly. Within seconds, his eyes crinkled up at the corners and his grin grew. That soft chuckle wasn’t far behind.
“I don’t know where I am.” You admitted with a sheepish laugh. After a moment, you amended that thought, “I don’t know who I am.”
Yoongi placed a gentle kiss below your ear – the only part of you he could reach without sitting up fully. “I have no idea. How did you get in my house?” As you rolled your eyes, he bumped the tip of his nose against your jaw, too tired to tease you much more than that. “But now that we’re both completely spent, I’d like to go back to being soft with you – for now.”
He tried to wink at you, but both of his lead-lined lids closed in unison. You hummed thoughtfully as you ran lazy fingers through his hair, like the decision required serious deliberation. You paused, then giggled. “Permission granted, my love. You may proceed.”
He was quiet for several moments before he stood bolt upright. Startled, you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked to him. He turned towards the booth and then back to you.
His eyes were wide as a blush swept over his cheeks. "Aegiya, did you forget to stop the recording?"
Sequel (posted 12/11/22).
#bts#bts army#bangtan#bangtan sonyeondan#bangta boys#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts fluff#bts suga#bts suga smut#bts suga fluff#suga x reader#suga x y/n#min yoongi#yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x you#yoongi fluff#yoongi smut#bts yoongi#bts min yoongi#min suga#re: darksided#2k#re: blindsided#jade writes
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A HH Lucifer-centric AU 12/?
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22
Fun fact:
I was supposed to include Heaven in this. The og plot was like Heaven was already friendly with them- like Luci's siblings, and they were supposed to be in the meeting back in chapter 4 and 5.
The argument would have been that Heaven is bound to help because Roo won't stop at Hell and it will eventually reach Heaven, making it their problem too.
But obviously I had a change of plans and I think this plot would be better.
A plot fit for a possible sequel, one might say.
Apologies for the shortness of the chapter but thank you still for the constant support! Your likes, reblogs, and comments are the things that give me inspiration to do this every day!
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The good news is the problem has not reached any of the upper rings in his absence. The bad news? Sloth is almost devoured.
Overgrown roots have enveloped the main city's buildings, he can't even see the Goetia territory anymore. The blood-red flowers are still spewing black miasma and he can feel it slightly burn his skin.
Lucifer thinks that this is what real Hell looks like.
This means that everyone is just exerting enough power to keep it at bay but not enough to fully stop it. Lucifer was right in his decision to look for Goodie. Speaking of Goodie- the embodiment of good barely reacts. If she's being burned by the mist, she's doing a pretty good job of not showing it.
Goodie: Oh my. What trouble you are causing, Roo.
A fucking understatement but Lucifer won't argue. This is trouble, but a million times worse.
Lucifer: Let's go.
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At one corner of Sloth, the Sins and the other higher powers of Hell have just finished another round of the sealing ritual. They've been going at it a month straight, there is no end in sight, and they are exhausted. Even Alastor is mostly drained as he is leaning a lot on his cane.
Beelzebub: Fuck! I knew this wasn't going to be easy but what the fuck?!
Someone scoffs.
Vox: Maybe if our dear king is here this would be over. Like, where the fuck is he huh??
Leviathan: Don't forget who you are speaking to, filthy sinner!
Vox: Oh boohoo. If we're all gonna die anyway, why should I be afraid of you? Should've known that absentee of a ruler left us all to rot after damning us here in the first place-
Vox suddenly finds a giant hand wrapped around his throat. It took him a few seconds of reconfiguration before he clearly saw who the fuck-
Vox: Fuckin- gah! Alastor!
Alastor has transformed into a taller, lankier, and more sinister of himself. Eyes turned into radio dials, face, and body adorned with glowing green stitches like a puppet whose master has on a string.
Alastor: Shouldn't frivolous televisions come with a silent setting?
Vox: Fuck! Off!
Alastor: Hahaha! What is the matter, Vox? You seem to have developed the illusion that you are the strongest person in the room. Shall I remind you of what came about your moth friend?
Velvette: You better let him go, old man!
Velvette yelled to back up Vox. She flinches as Alastor turns his head in her direction with a sickening snap of his neck.
Not wanting to back off, she was about to argue more when Carmila stepped in.
Carmila: Velvette! Cease this at once. Do you and the Vees have no self-preservation??
Velvette: Well- I- Vox's right and you lot know it! Great Lucifer called us all here, basically threatened us to help him fix a mess he caused, then fucks off to God knows where leaving us to practically kill ourselves for a mess, again, HE CAUSED!
The Sins and Goetia's have now transformed into their more monstrous forms at hearing the disrespect the lowly sinner said about their King.
Velvette and Vox are saved from near-permanent death by a commanding voice.
Lucifer: Kneel.
Everyone's bodies acted on their own. Their knees bled from the sudden contact on the ground.
None of them could move- try as they might. Their air became heavier, plus with the miasma, a lot of them were gasping for air. Nothing is coming in. They can't breathe. They can't-
They look up to see the King of Hell and an unknown woman. Unknown to most but the Sins very much recognize her as indicated by the widening of their eyes.
Satan: Goodie!
The woman giggles and waves cheerfully as if there wasn't a looming threat in the air.
Goodie: My, my. What big mouths you have~
----------------------------------------------------
What to look forward to in Part 13:
Some talks and reprimanding.
Another round of ritual.
The situation becomes worse.
Lucifer and Goodie's solution.
#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin charlie#hazbin husk#hazbin lilith#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin vaggie#hazbin nifty#hazbin cherri bomb#hazbin sir pentious#hazbin velvette#hazbin carmilla#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel angel oc#hazbin hotel niffty#hazbin hotel sir pentious#hazbin hotel vaggie#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin hotel vox#radioapple#duckiedeer#appleradio#alastor and lucifer#lucifer x alastor
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Kinktober 22
22. True Monsters, Spiritual Possession, Sexual Exhaustion
The thing is.
The thing is, about having two otherworldy lovers.
The thing is about it, is you can do some awfully kinky things.
They have corporeal forms of course, but they aren’t actually mortal beings. Things can get strange and metaphysical and very filthy indeed.
It’s an odd experience to have another soul in your body. A body is meant to be a singular thing, after all, directed by one mind and one mind only, a consciousness deciding on every movement. You should have total control over your actions.
That is not the case. Right now you can feel Crowley inside you, and not in the usual way. His existence is pressed up against your own, your very souls rutting against each other, fighting for dominance and utterly entwined. You are one. He’s using your fingers to explore the meat of your cunt. You’ve already come twice and he’s not done with you yet.
“Such a pretty little clit,” you hear your own voice say, but with Crowley’s cadence. You mewl and try to get his hand to stop but he keeps going. Your slick drips down to your knuckles and you feel yourself reach up and taste yourself, a tang flooding your tongue.
“You are delicious. If I was you this is all I’d do all day, nightingale. Lie here and fuck myself. You’re so lovely, and your pleasure? Christ, it’s like a drug. Intoxicating.”
You huff a laugh at his ridiculous compliments but feel your skin heating up.
“Hmm. Well, I wouldn’t get much done, would I?” you answer him. He splays your creamy pussy open and your head turns to your other lover. Aziraphale, for his part, has been watching utterly entranced, rendered speechless at the strange and bewitching pornography before him. He strokes himself as he stares at you, at both of you.
“Come on, angel. We’re ready,” Crowley breathes. Aziraphale kneels before you, hitching one of your legs over his shoulder, rubbing the blunt head of his cock against your sore centre.
“Strangest threesome I’ve ever had,” you manage, and the three of you chuckle.
“Hmm, it’s certainly up there, my darling,” Aziraphale agrees as he slides home. Your body bucks and twists and the angel has to pin your hips down to stay sheathed in you.
“Oh my— how— how does it feel so good?” Crowley drawls from your lips. “You’ve both fucked me hundreds of times and it’s never been…”
“My darling, that’s because you’re in a human body. They’re a little more sensitive than ours. We’re made of starlight, of dust; they’re all flesh and blood and softness and velvet,” Aziraphale muses as he starts to fuck you properly. The slide of his cock is overwhelming for Crowley, you can feel his spirit roil in your ribs and stomach.
“Oh, oh, I’m going to —”
Your body comes and you’re swept away with it. Aziraphale keeps going, a smile spreading over his face.
“Angel?” whispers Crowley, blissed out. Aziraphale cocks a brow.
“The two of us aren’t finished yet, darling,” he hums.
“You can tap out though,” you tell Crowley with a grin. Inside you, he pouts.
“Not a chance.”
@bootlmoth @elleofdragons @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler
@darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie
#aziraphale x reader x crowley#crowley x reader x aziraphale#Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween#avo’s kt 23
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Electromagnetism - p. 2
~ ellie williams x reader
——————————————————————————
part one | part three <3
synopsis: you and ellie williams have been long time rivals. you're a physics majors at wellesley college, and you’re competing for the same spot in the prestigious dr. ramsey’s lab as ellie. suddenly neither of you can escape the other as you’re both trying to navigate your final year of college.
content: college!ellie, mean!ellie, modern au, academic rivals to lovers, forced proximity, swearing, banter, eventual smut i swear, tensions rising between ellie and reader
——————————————————————————
Day 22
PHYS 302: Quantum Mechanics
It’s only a few weeks into the semester, and this class is already demanding way too much of my time. Ellie and I are still sitting next to one another. I think both of us are too proud to move. Our first exam is coming up in less than a week, and to say I'm nervous is an understatement. I can tell Ellie is stressed out about it too. She’s been studying every free second, biting her nails down to a nub, and she wore that same shirt yesterday. Not that I’m keeping track! We are spending a significant amount of time together between our class schedule and work. I guess you begin to notice little details about someone when you’re with them almost everyday. Even if it isn’t by choice.
…
I can’t think straight. So many variables are swirling around in my thoughts. Ellie. My increasing anxiety. This exam. Being the best at what I do. The professor lecturing is only background noise to the ardent contemplation of the current state of my life. Quite frankly I’m struggling to understand what a quantum state is or why I should care about it. I’m only brought back to reality when I realize that Dr. L is talking to me.
“Are you listening?”
“I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”
“Can anyone else tell me what the variables are that define the quantum state of a system?”
Ellie quickly speaks up, “Compatible and Incompatible.”
“Correct, Miss Williams.” Dr. L glares at me as she turns back around to the dusty chalkboard.
…
I want to throw my head down against the desk. I knew that, and now I’ve made myself look like a fool in front of the class. I’m just so distracted by Ellie lately. Ever since she got in my face and said she intended to get the same lab position I’ve been dying to have, I feel frozen in time. I knew she wanted it, but it’s real now that she’s said it out loud. Getting into Dr. Ramsey’s lab could mean I have a fighting chance at grad school or even a future in research. It’s fucking important to me. It occurs to me that maybe Ellie and I could have an alliance. After all the saying goes, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.
…
In the corner of my eye, I see Ellie chewing on her pencil. She’s studying again while I’m stuck explaining basic calculus to a freshman. It’s 8:07 p.m. Only 23 minutes till the end of my shift, but I tell her anyway that we’re closed for the night. I needed to escape the monotony of derivatives and integrals.
Ellie’s head lifts up as she hears me escort the girl out the door. It seems I piqued her curiosity, “Why did you tell her we’re closed?”
“She’s going to fail calculus with or without my help." I slump back in my chair knowing I'm barely conscious from my lack of sleep. "I’m just exhausted today. I don’t want to explain integrals again.”
A smile appears on Ellie’s face. She looks down at her hands before looking up at me again. I think I almost made her laugh.
“Trust me. I heard you explain it to her multiple times. I get it.”
Before I know it, a smile is materializing on my face too. I laugh knowing we have a mutual understanding. To be honest, Ellie kinda intimidates me. Maybe that's why when I’m around her it makes my body feel like it’s on fire. I can hear my heart pumping as she starts to move in closer to me ever so slightly. I know she’s waiting for me to say something else. Maybe I should say something else. I hope she doesn't notice how I choke on my words as I try to speak.
…
“Um, while we’re uh talking… I was just wondering how you felt about the exam on Friday.”
Ellie settles into her seat. Confidence seeps out of every pore of her body. I watch as she sets down the pencil she was once chewing on. “It’ll be easy. Maybe not for you, but it will be for me.”
“Sure… Ellie." I mirror her position. Trying to emulate the confidence she exudes. "I was just going to offer you some study tips in case you needed them.” I remark back at her.
She leans forward in her chair. Without warning, the air between us seems to thicken. “You could barely keep up today in class. I certainly don’t need any of your help.”
I lean forward too. “Really? Because I think that you’re studying every second you get because you know I’m better than you."
I stand up, and walk toward Ellie. As I begin to close the space between us, Ellie lifts herself out of her seat. She almost looks like she can't believe I'm saying this "..and you can’t stand the thought of it.”
Ellie looks like she's about to say something. Her mouth opens but closes. She turns around and opens up her bookbag. I watch as she rips a piece of paper out of a notebook. She writes something down.
She turns back around with a paper crumbled in her hand. Ellie inches toward me just like she did on our first night working together. My breath catches in my throat as my mouth goes dry. She pushes the piece of paper into my chest as I stumble backward.
She swivels on her foot and begins to pack up her things. I grab the paper and look at it. She remarks “It's my number for when you realize you’re the one who needs my help.”
…
As I walk out of work, the cold of the night makes goosebumps appear all over my arms. I am still in shock of what just happened. Ellie pushes past me and into the emerging nightfall. Her perfume lingers behind. She smells of mint and eucalyptus. Not wanting to disturb her, I continue walking a few paces behind her.
My head feels clouded. I feel overwhelmed by all of the thoughts spinning around in my head. Did she seriously just do that?
The moon brightens up the night sky as Ellie exits my view. My apartment building is only a few blocks away. I need to tell someone else about what happened tonight. I pull my phone out of my back pocket to text Dina.
8:33 P.M
you will never guess what just happened to me tonight
D: What??! Spill please!
Well... I asked Ellie about the exam in 302 and she basically said it’d be easy for her, but not me. So i said well maybe i could give you tips so you wouldn’t have to study every second of the day. then she gave me her number?!!! and said to text her when i realize that i am the one that needs help??
D: oh my fucking god.
isn’t she crazy?
D: I mean.. I think you both are.
D: but i’m curious if that’s her real number?
D: send it to me and i’ll let you know.
you have her number?
D: we might’ve exchanged numbers at some point..
???
D" well…. we kissed once or twice.
D: but we're not talking anymore
omg. DINA! why didn’t you tell me!!!
D: I thought you'd be mad and it was casual!!
D: send me the number!!!
I threw my phone onto my bed after I sent the number over to Dina. I doubt Ellie would give me her real number. She probably just wanted to fuck with me. Not that it matters if its real or not.. I wouldn’t text her anyway.
I’m disappointed that Dina didn’t feel like she could tell me about her and Ellie. I’m supposed to be there for her like she has been for me. I let this stupid rivalry get in the way of our friendship. Although when I look back on it, I don’t think they tried to hide it either. Maybe I’ve been too caught up in the fact that she was my nemesis to realize that Ellie and Dina were practically sitting on top of each other at parties or both missing at the same time. How could I have been so naïve to miss this?? My phone vibrates on my comforter. I feel my stomach drop. I’m not sure I even want to know. I open my messages with one eye open.
8:47 P.M.
yep. that's ellie’s number.
…
Day 26
PHYS 302 : Quantum Mechanics
The sun is shining in through the cracks of my blinds. My eyes are barely open. I feel the fatigue wash over me. The warmth of my bed is all-encompassing, but I know I have to pull the covers aside. My legs feel like lead as I walk into the bathroom to brush my teeth. The darkness under my eyes looks deeper than usual. I pulled an all-nighter studying for the exam today. I’m debating if I have enough time to run to the coffee shop down the street. I’m in desperate need of caffeine.
I end up walking to get coffee.I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my eyes open without it. The wind is starting to have a chill to it as summer slowly bleeds away. The bell rings as I walk in the door. This is the coffee shop I originally met Dina in. Her hair was shorter then. Our friendship continued to develop the more and more I came here. Then we found out we were working together at the tutoring center, and well the rest is history.
…
Walking into class with my iced latte in hand, I see Ellie. Her hair looks more disheveled than usual and her clothes wrinkled. Maybe I’m not the only one who pulled an all-nighter.
I’m not sure if the caffeine is helping me or just making my anxiety worse. Despite my fear that I may not have studied enough, I feel confident. I tell myself today is going to be the day I’ll be setting the curve. Not Ellie. Staying up all night is going to be goddamn worth it when I see that smirk Ellie wears off her face.
I look over at her as I sit down. She’s still biting her nails, but she doesn’t look at me.
I shift my body to look at her. She finally looks up from her notes. I whisper to her “Goodluck Ellie.”
Ellie looks at me and winks. She is wearing her exhaustion on her face, but her self-assurance is ever-present, “Goodluck to you too, sweetheart.”
I turn back around seething. The heat is rising to my cheeks, but I don’t have time to think further because Dr. L starts handing out our exams. I’m ready for it.
…
I’ve been anxiously pacing my room. Biting my nails even. I think Ellie is rubbing off on me. I dismiss the thought of becoming more like Ellie. The grades are going to be out tonight in 20 minutes. I continue walking back and forth on the hardwood floors of my room. I need to distract myself for just a little while longer. Instead, I keep brooding over my conversations with Ellie and the moment this exam score will come out.
Only a few minutes are left until the email will pop up in my inbox. I spend this time running over the exam in my head again. I’m pretty confident I answered everything correctly. Well maybe except for question 25, but I think I’m overthinking it.
My laptop pings, and I know it’s the results. My hands are damp as I lift open the screen. The subject line reads Exam Results. I click on the link
9:30 P.M.
Subject : Exam Results
Congratulations,
You’ve received the top grade on exam one with a score of 100%. Take pride in this!
Sincerely,
Dr. L
…
I am buzzing with excitement. I shoot up out of my seat and sigh with relief knowing my hard work was worth it. I subconsciously start thinking of Ellie. How she feels in this moment knowing that I did better than her. I take pleasure in thinking that she’s jealous of me. Thinking of me right now too. I catch sight of Ellie’s note crumpled up on my desk. Before I know it, her number is in my phone, and I’m typing out a text to her.
9:32 P.M.
Need my tips now Ellie?
#the last of us#ellie williams#ellie x you#dina tlou#rivals to lovers#slow burn#forced proximity#ellie x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams x reader#mean!ellie#college!ellie williams#college!au#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou
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Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 22 -> CH 23
Tagging:@roryculkinluvr@thatsthewrongwallcraig@icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06@shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver@ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999 @x-prettyboy-x @rorylover71 @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27
TW: Mutual Masturbation, Fingering, Jerking Off
Jack had gone home and practically paced waiting for Y/n to call. He knew she wasn't coming around until later but he was excited to spend time with her. He watched the clock and tried to work on a few pages to pass the time but once he heard the knock at the front door, he practically broke his foot trying to run down the steps.
"Hey! Sorry I'm late, I didn't want to come straight over in my scrubs." Y/n let herself in and looked freshly showered but exhausted.
"That's fine, we can play it low key tonight and actually go out when you get a day off." Jack smiled gesturing towards the living room. She plopped down on one side of the couch and Jack followed suit on the opposite end. He had already ordered food and told her to get comfortable. She noticed he had his laptop sitting on the coffee table and gestured towards it.
"How's the writing going?" She asked kicking her shoes off so she could rest her feet on the couch next to Jack's leg.
"It's going pretty well, I had to keep myself busy today so I got a few pages written." Jack confessed making Y/n smile.
"Can I read some of it?" She asked carefully. Jack hesitated for a moment before passing her the laptop. He watched her read the pages, taking a mental note of her eyes scanning the words and chewing on her lip.
"Jack...this is really good. I mean it's dark as hell and I know it's supposed to be about your life but it's really good." Y/n looked up from the laptop and Jack's eyebrows went up.
"You think so? I mean it's a first draft but-" Y/n leaned the screen down to look at Jack.
"Shut up and take the compliment." She moved to sit next to him and scrolled through his pages to point things out
"I love how the story teller is framing these events in his life as small signs of what's to come. As if his path was predetermined by the actions of his father, an avalanche of tragedy." Jack just stared at her in amazement. He moved towards her to kiss her but the sound of the doorbell stopped him. Y/n laughed realizing he was going to kiss her.
"Should have ordered the food a little sooner." She smirked. He pushed up from the couch and grabbed the food. They fell into comfortable conversation about random things from the book to the chaos his appearance at her work caused. Jack had no regrets and was glad that there were people who kept her mind on him throughout the day.
"You're such a cocky punk. You knew my boss was going to eat you up with a spoon." Y/n shoved Jack with her foot and he caught it with his hands.
"How could I possibly know your boss was an older woman? I just do really well with older women." Jack bragged rubbing her feet. He could see that it was providing relief and kept massaging her foot.
"Now you're just distracting me with a nice...foot massage. Fuck your hands are strong." She hissed.
"Am I hurting you?" He stopped and she narrowed her eyes at him.
"No it feels great, don't stop." Jack laughed continuing to rub her feet.
"This is not what I thought I would be doing for you to say that." Jack teased. Y/n let out a laugh and rested her head on the back of the couch to look at him.
"Yeah? I take it the new meds are treating you well?" Y/n asked making Jack nod.
"I haven't started them yet. I'm afraid I won't be able to get off now if I change them now." Jack explained and Y/n shook her head.
"I can always take my shirt off if you're feeling repressed. Don't sacrifice your sanity and sleep for an orgasm, Jack." She sat up on her elbows and he laughed.
"Honestly I'm not even sure it would work if I tried to fuck anyone. For now, it works for me exclusively." Jack felt comfortable talking to Y/n about these sorts of things. He didn't know if it was because he was attracted to her or if it was because they had talked openly about the medications.
"Well then lets test it out." Y/n pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. Jack stopped rubbing her feet, allowing her to pull her legs back towards herself so she could unbutton her jeans and slid them just below her ass.
"Does this make you uncomfortable?" Y/n asked partially exposed. Jack could feel his dick stiffen and he shook his head, unbuttoning his jeans and show her the tent that was in his boxers.
"Not anymore." He said rubbing his cock on top of the fabric.
"You might want to take your shirt off...in the event you cum, I'd hate for you to stain one of your emo shirts." Y/n teased putting her fingers in her mouth. Jack can see her pussy as she pushes her panties to the side to finger herself. One hand pinched her nipples as she continued to play with her clit. He was so hard now, all he could do was stroke himself. Watching Y/n's fingers move in and out of her glistening pussy made him think about what it would feel like to have her ride him right here on the couch, her tits bouncing in his face as she fucked herself on his cock. He groaned freeing his cock, spitting on his hand and mixing that with the precum on the tip so he could have the feeling of skin to skin contact.
"Your cock looks even better when its hard. I fucking knew it would." Y/n bit her lip adding a third finger and letting her head fall back.
"Fuck..you can't...you can't say shit like that or I'm going to cum entirely too soon." Jack complained stroking himself faster.
"I wasn't aware we were being timed. I'm going to get off, when I get off." Y/n laughed watching Jack's chest rise and fall trying to catch his breath.
"Fuck I want to cum on your tits so bad." Jack said jaw dropping slightly staring at her tits bouncing with her rigorous hand movements. She used her free hand to pop the front of the bra open letting her tits spill out.
"Oh fuck." Jack moaned. He couldn't help but want to bury his face between them. Y/n continued to whine loudly and Jack wanted to be the one who pulled those sounds from her.
"Don't be shy Jack. I want to hear you." Y/n begged.
"I want to fuck you into this couch. I want to cum inside of you until it's running down your legs. I want to feel you cum around my cock." Y/n moaned Jack's name as she found her release, rubbing her clit and making her knees jump together as she pushed herself to keep touching sensitive bits. Jack could feel his orgasm building, eyes shut trying to get there. He was afraid if he got distracted he would embarrass himself and be unable to cum.
"Jack...open your eyes and look at me. I want you to look at me when you cum. I want you to know that the next time you cum, it will be down my throat." Jack watched Y/n take her wet fingers and put them in her mouth.
"Fuck!" Jack cried milking his cock until he was cumming all over the front of his shirt, almost hitting his neck. He slowed his hand down, feeling the jump of the sensitive tip as he grazed it.
It was silent for a few moments as they both looked at each other and started laughing.
"You're a fucking freak." Jack shook his head.
"And you love every second of it." Y/n stuck her tongue out at him.
"You also should have taken your shirt off." She reminded him pointing at the cum that was already starting to dry on his black shirt. She leaned forward to crawl towards him on the couch and Jack worried she might try to go for a second round.
"No worries, I'm not pushing the boundaries. I just wanted to give you something." Y/n leaned forward and kissed Jack carefully not to startle him of make him anxious. She let her tongue run along his own before pulling away.
"I wanted to say thanks and congratulations on the orgasm. It was great." She smiled in his face and he returned it.
"I also wanted to give you a little taste of what you're in for if you're down for a second date." Jack could taste her on his tongue and nodded.
"Is the first date already over?" He asked curiously and she laughed putting her head down for a moment.
"I don't want to make you feel cheap but if I don't go home now, I'll be too tired to walk home." She explained. Jack knew how tired she was and this probably only made it worse.
"It's okay. I completely understand." Jack put himself back in his jeans and watched Y/n pull her shirt over her head, not bothering to put her bra back on. He walked her to the door and she turned to look at him.
"This was a lot of fun Jack. I'm glad I said yes to a first date." Y/n smiled sweetly at him and he blushed.
"I'm pretty glad you said yes too. Let me know when you get home." Jack said rolling his eyes knowing that she was going to make a smartass remark about being across the street. She kissed his cheek and gave his hand a squeeze before walking out the door. Jack watched her walk down the drive and towards her house before shutting the door and running his hands down his face trying to take in what had just happened. He couldn't help but smile thinking about the night as a whole. He hadn't remembered having that much fun in one night with someone ever. He ran his hands down his shirt and felt his cum streak down his shirt more.
"Dammit." He cussed at himself knowing this shirt wasn't ruined but knowing he would get hard every time he wore it.
#Jack Thurlow#Jack Goes Home#Jack Thurlow x Y/n#One Shot Series#Glass Houses Series#Rory Culkin#Culkin Cult#Glass Houses#22/38
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kinktober '22 ║ Ⅸ
pairing: frankie morales x f!reader x jack daniels
genre: smut, minors dni
word count: 2.4k
summary: you get hit with a drug that makes you lactate, frankie and jack are more than eager to help you out.
warnings: statesmen agent!reader(agent greyhound), lactation kink, reader gets hit with a drug that makes her lactate no pregnancy, nipple play, titjob, spit play, mild choking, established relationship, polyamorous relationship, mlm dynamics, cum eating
a/n: this is part of the million dollar man series but you can read this as a separate one shot as well 💜 this takes place in the honeymoon stage of their relationship, so it takes place a bit in the future from chapter one & two
MLISTS . LIBRARY. TAGLIST . KINKTOBER '22 . SERIES MLIST . PLAYLIST
“Fuck, what happened to you two?”
It’s late. It’s so late that Frankie shouldn’t even be up. Especially since he has lessons to give first thing in the morning, but of course sleep eludes him entirely and he ends up scrolling through a magazine about greek sculpture “the archaic period”. He has no idea when he got it. Sleep slowly comes crawling back at about the fifth page, that is until the apartment door busts open. He jumps, then relaxes when he sees that it’s only you and Jack– But panic comes rushing back with full force when he notices your heavy breathing and Jack’s blood soaked white button-up shirt.
Frankie throws the magazine onto the coffee table, making a straight line to you and Jack. Before he can wrap an arm around you to help you up, he’s stopped by you raising a hand. He raises an eyebrow to that, eyes flickering to Jack who looks exhausted.
“It ain’t nothing serious,” Jack says, his lips slightly curling up which makes Frankie believe him. “Greyhound here just got hit with a lil’something,”
“Got hit?” Frankie shakes his head, eyes scrunching close while he tries to understand. “Can one of you speak clearly, what happened?”
“I got drugged,”
You voice out finally, Frankie notes the way you sound defeated. Worry coils around him, squeezing him tight and emptying his lungs of air. He ushers them both to the couch, still not touching you since it seemed like you didn’t want that. He has no idea what you have coursing through your veins, but he knows that water is a cure for pretty much everything.
When he comes back with two fresh glasses of H2O, your head is pressed snugly on top of Jack’s shoulder. Skin glistening with a sheer coat of sweat. The way you’re still breathing heavily worries him. Your brows knit together, you almost look like you’re in pain. Jack’s staring at the coffee table, his lips moving slightly as he reads the title of the magazine, then he hears Frankie making his way towards them and his eyes flicker to meet his.
“You into greek sculpture?”
“I don’t think that’s where your focus should be,” he grumbles sitting next to you. Frankie places one glass in front of Jack and presses the rim of the other to your lips. You shiver and shake your head. “Come on, you need to drink something– What happened to her?”
The question is directed at Jack.
“She got drugged, Ginger checked her out, there’s nothing serious. It’s just– It makes her–”
“Don’t tell him,” you hiss.
Frankie can’t help but feel hurt by that. His gaze drops to Jack’s lap, who infuriatingly notices his sudden emotional withdrawal. Jack swiftly leans over and touches Frankie’s chin lightly with his knuckles, pulling his gaze up.
“Sugarcube, you’re hurting his feelings.”
Frankie feels his cheeks heating up, a dust of pink coloring his skin. Your hand finds its way to his thigh, squeezing gently.
“It’s just embarrassing,” you whine.
Suddenly your chest heaves, Frankie can’t help but watch the movement like a hawk. Your shirt is dirty, the hem of it ripped and tattered, but he also notices two small wet patches right above where your nipples are supposed to be. His eyebrows raise, disappearing under his curls. Jack’s thumb moves across Frankie’s jawline, drawing his attention back to him.
“It makes her lactate,”
“Jack!”
Frankie blinks before answering, he’s deadpanned, mouth dry as a desert.
“It makes her what now?”
Jack grins, “Lactate,”
Frankie’s lips round up into an oh. His eyes flicker back to the stains, they’re bigger now. It feels like puzzle pieces coming together as he realizes what those wet spots are. He hears the blood rush in his ears, cock twitching with interest. For a brief moment he feels guilt for being turned on while you’re in pain. You huff out an embarrassed sigh, glaring at Jack before turning your gaze back to Frankie, your eyes softening immediately.
“Don’t worry I’m fine. It’s just– It kinda…hurts,” your teeth gnaw your bottom lip raw, it takes him everything not to lean and give it a soothing lick. “It’s like the week before my period. My nipples get all stiff and sore, but this is like… ten times worse,”
“You know what we need to do to ease the pain,” Jack tuts, half amused, half serious. “Just tell Frankie here what Ginger told us, he’ll be more than eager to help. I’m sure,”
Seeing how flustered you are, Frankie reaches out, thumbing your bottom lip away from your sharp teeth and lovingly stroking the soft muscle. Your eyelids flutter for him beautifully, a blissful sigh escaping your lips.
“S-She told me that,” you inhale a shaky breath, Frankie smiles. “Sucking the milk m-might help and well, massaging,”
“I think the word she used was ‘playing with them’ darlin’” Jack snickers. He leans into your personal space, lips tracing the column of your neck as he continues to speak. “We should do what the doctor says,”
Frankie’s ashamed of how quickly he becomes hard. Uncomfortable, he shifts in his seat. He’s wearing sweatpants, so there isn’t much he can do to hide it. Mind racing, he covers his mouth with his hand, scratching the empty patches in his beard, an unconscious thing he did just because. Jack’s eyes sparkle at his reaction, his dark eyes a shade darker when his gaze rakes across Frankie’s broad frame, seeing the bulge hiding underneath the thin layer of fabric.
“We don’t have to do it,” you say, oblivious to Frankie’s situation. “She did say we could wait it out but it just might be a bit intense,”
“Don’t worry sugar, I’m pretty sure he’s interested,”
Frankie closes his eyes. He feels strained by the purr of Jack’s voice, his neck clenching and unclenching as he tries to not focus on your leaking nipples. Without thinking he licks the inside of his palm, imagining it was your sweet tasting milk instead–
He’s rudely brought back from his day dreaming when Jack cups Frankie���s aching erection, roughly squeezing his cock from above his sweatpants. Frankie makes a choked out sound, hand falling as his eyes flutter open.
“See,” Jack’s practically singing at this point.
“Guys–”
The desperation in your voice causes both men to turn to you, Frankie looking with worry and Jack with mischief. Your head falls back and you lift your shirt up with trembling hands.
Frankie’s mouth waters at the sight; your breasts are swollen, nipples erect and leaking. He knows that your breasts tend to get bigger about a week before your period but never this much. Your lips part with a groan, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. You’re looking down at your nips, something between pain and arousal written across your face.
“Just do it– Please,”
It takes only a second. A second for them to pick up their jaws from the floor and attach themselves to your aching nips. Frankie feels Jack’s cheekbones against his scruffy cheek while darting his tongue out to draw a nipple into his mouth. A moan mixed with a sigh leaves your lips. His nose is completely buried into the soft flesh, sucking with fervor. Frankie’s eyes flutter closed, a groan trembling within his chest as the sweet milk coats his tongue. The taste tingles his taste buds awake. It tastes like cantaloupe juice. His cock painfully hard in the confinements of his sweats. He feels your fingers scratching against his scalp, tugging him closer. Without even thinking he thrusts his hips, a spike of pleasure ringing up his spine with the almost to-non friction.
“Fuck, darlin’–” Jack’s voice comes from right next to Frankie’s ear. He sounds very similar to when Frankie fucks into him, a slurp follows. “You taste so good, what the fuck?”
“Really?” you breathe out.
Frankie looks up with his lips still wrapped around your pebbled nipple, he gives it a hard suck, purposefully moaning loud around the flesh. He notices the way your back curves, pushing more of yourself into their mouths. You close your eyes, chest heaving as the two of them sucks on your tits.
“Yes, baby– Tastes amazing,” Frankie slurs. “Does it feel better?”
You nod shakily, nails scratching both his and Jack’s scalp. “More,” you choke out. “Squeeze them,”
Frankie’s eyes flicker to Jack. The other man pulls his mouth back, lips parting from you momentarily and Frankie sees your nipple glistening with spit. Jack massages your breast, beads of milk show up at the tip, leaking down the curve of the plump flesh. Frankie feels something feral awakening inside of him as Jack leans and catches the drop with the tip of his pink tongue, licking a stripe up to your nipple, he sucks again.
Eyes nearly rolling back, Frankie cups himself from over the fabric. He’s pretty sure if he looks down he’ll see a wet patch of his own. He rounds his mouth, licking your nipple back between his lips. His hand comes around the roundness of your tit and starts to massage it as well, his heart hammering in his chest as more milk squirts into his mouth.
Your whimpers and moans and pleas are driving him mad. He can’t help the way his hand sneaks under the waistband of his sweatpants, can’t help it when he begins to fist himself, sucking you harder and pressing the flat of his tongue against your leaking nipple.
He’s minutes to making a mess in his sweat before Jack stops him, curling his thick fingers around his wrist.
Frankie whines, hips stuttering forward, he doesn’t stop licking you, the taste of you soothing his nerves. You tug on his soft curls, another whine escapes his throat but he obliges, letting go of your swollen nip and looking up to you with a shameful gaze.
“Sorry,” he rasps. “Didn’t mean to get carried away,”
His heart flutters when you smile down at him, you seem better now, your breathing even and tits looking smaller.
“You misunderstand us baby boy,” Jack’s southern drawl urges him to look at him instead, confusion written in his eyes. “Greyhound likes it when you’re all needy and desperate for her–”
You cut in before he can finish.
“Frankie,” you say softly, his gaze snapping up to meet yours. For a moment he forgot all about his fingers wrapped around his cock. “Would you like to fuck my tits?”
“God– Yes baby girl, I would fucking love that,”
Normally, being the voice of reason, Frankie would urge everyone to head to the bedroom where there’s a perfectly comfortable bed to lay in– but not now, not today. All clothing is cast aside. All his reason is swallowed deep down by his lust. He straddles your chest as Jack acts as a pillow underneath your head, which sprinkles Frankie with a bit of relief. At least you won’t be entirely uncomfortable. He swallows thick as his pulsing cock rests between your swollen breasts, you’re still leaking, wet streaks glistening all the way to your lower abdomen. Jack slowly curls his fingers around your throat, slightly tilting your head up so you would face him. Frankie wets his lips when you part your lips, tongue out, Jack purses his lips, spitting directly into your mouth.
A drop of precum heavily falls to your chest, his cock twitching.
Closing your lips, you swallow, eyes dropping to meet Frankie’s. Jack’s fingers dance across the frame of your jaw, hooking his thumb into the side of your mouth.
“What are you waiting for?” Jack grunts, despite what his tone might suggest, he’s smiling. “She’s hurtin’ remember?”
“Yeah yeah–” As if waking up from a trance Frankie blinks. “This…won’t hurt will it?”
“No Frankie– Please–”
He can’t deny you for long.
Frankie pushes your tits together, the width of his cock disappearing between the pillowy mounds. He experimentally thrusts forward– The pleasure he feels is sudden, like needles sticking into his skin and awakening him. He hisses between clenched teeth, he’s somewhat aware that Jack’s fucking your mouth with his fingers, eliciting sweet muffled groans from you but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your bosom. He pushes his thumbs into your nipples, more fluid bursting from the sensitive nubs as he rolls his hips a second time, then a third, then a forth–
He knows he’s not going to last. His balls are already tight, the tip of his cock crowning between your tits and touching your chin, a string of precum stretching each time he pulls back his hips. Whining, you pull away from Jack’s fingers and tilt your head down. He feels light headed as you poke out your tongue, sucking on the tip of his cock every time he slams his hips forward.
“You two look so good,” Jack groans, reaching out and squeezing your tits. “Fuck– you ‘bout to cum Frankie?”
“Y-Yeah,” his chest heaves, hips stuttering. “Wanna cum all over her perfect tits–”
You moan when the head of his cock touches your tongue, eyes rolling back. A smug smirk stretching cat-like across his face, Frankie speeds up. His cock is throbbing constantly now, the pressure of sliding between your breasts starting to get the better of it. However, he doesn’t expect Jack to reach forward, pushing his hand between your bodies and cupping his balls. He rolls them between his fingers, grinning as Frankie’s lips part wide with a wanton moan. Beads of sweat slid down his tail bone, his breath choked out. His balls tighten within Jack’s grip and thick ropes of cum shoots from the tip, making a mess of your chest and face. Frankie’s head falls back, whimpering and moaning while continuing to rock his hips. It doesn’t stop. He feels like a teenager at the way he cums endlessly, cock twitching and throbbing.
When he’s finally done he looks down at you, chest rattling with hitched breaths. You look completely dazed, moaning around Jack’s fingers once again as he feeds you his cum. Frankie nearly gets hard again, his gut swirling with arousal. He leans down, cupping both your breasts and kneading them as he presses his lips against yours. His tongue swirls around Jack’s fingers, licks the inside of your mouth, groaning into it when he tastes himself. Frankie breaks the kiss when he feels the wetness growing between his palms, sliding down your body he closes his lips around your nipple again, drinking as if he hasn’t had water for five thousand years. His cock slowly hardening again with your moans gradually becoming louder.
“Leave some for the rest of us,” Jack grumbles, fingers nestling in Frankie’s hair and pulling him back. “Don’t be greedy,”
Frankie shoots him a boyish grin before pulling back completely.
“She’s all yours cowboy.”
kinktober tags: @tusk89 , @amneris21 , @witchisenpai , @pedrito-friskito , @tom-whore-dleston , @lola766 , @batdarkladyvampir , @dindjarinswhore , @dnxgma , @eyelessfaces , @queenofthefaceless , @softtdaisy , @saintlike78 , @timpletance , @xdaddysprincessxx , @stardust-galaxies , @spacecowboyhotch, @queenofthecloudss , @prettyouttherethoughts , @reaperofmen , @partr1dge , @bbyanarchist , @alwaysdjarin , @thevoiceinyourheadx , @absurdthirst , @levi-llama
#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x reader#jack daniels x you#jack daniels x reader x frankie morales#frankie morales x reader x jack daniels#jack daniels x reader#catfish morales x reader#kinktober '22#smutober
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Progression, Chapter 22 Sneak Peek:
Between the two of them, Kim tends to sleep later than Chay. His body is hard-wired to stay up late, and on top of that, he tends to sleep lightly. The latter is something that has changed a little in the last two months. Sleeping with Chay is just better. Even when they had slept on the couch in Chay’s house - prior to everything falling apart - he slept better than he usually had. Now that they're together and Kim isn't waiting for Chay to find out everything and leave, he almost always sleeps through the night.
So that's the only explanation for not hearing his phone ping the next morning. He sleeps right through it until Chay is gently shaking him awake.
“We missed a few texts. I have been talking with Macau for a bit, but you should catch up and read them.”
Kim lets his eyes open as he sits up and grabs his phone from the nightstand. Even as he opens the texts from Macau and Porsche to read them, he can't quite comprehend what it means.
Macau: Hey, why is my brother talking to Kinn on the phone?
Macau: I'm not hiding in some safe house to wait out another attack. The cell service was so shitty and the WiFi was non-existent. I was kept out of the loop until Porsche and Khun came to get me. Pissed me the fuck off at the time, but I went with them because I needed out of there, even if it meant death.
Macau: That sounds like I didn't care about my brother. I did. They downplayed his condition until we got to the hospital. I didn't care about the shitty service after that, but it was horrible while it was a main priority and I didn’t know any better.
Macau: He's now off the phone, barely talking, and cuddling with Paris, Valencia, and Pittsburgh.
Chay: Who are Valencia and Pittsburgh?
Macau: Hia’s and P’Pete’s cats, duh. 🙄 Took you long enough to answer.
Chay: Who names a cat Pittsburgh? Who names anything Pittsburgh?
Macau: When Hia and P’Pete got them, they agreed to each name one. Hia named the girl Valencia because it is a city that has the same starting English letter as his name. So P’Pete picked Pittsburgh for the boy because it matched the starting letter of his own name. They also got stuck there during a layover last year due to a huge snowstorm and it was the first time P’Pete ever experienced snow. I guess they even extended their time there a couple of days to enjoy it. Pittsburgh now has a special place in P'Pete's and Hia's heart. Anyway, the cat is white. Pittsburgh.
Chay: I guess that makes sense? Also, why did you never say anything about being an uncle now? Kim and I would have sent you a present or something. Hia showed me a picture of Paris. She's really cute.
Macau: I’ve been an uncle. Valencia and Pittsburgh have been here for a while now and are a lot quieter. Paris doesn't scratch at the furniture though, so that's nice. I think that's why she's Hia’s new favorite.
Chay: That's definitely it. Let me know if anything else happens.
Macau: wtf he and Kinn are on the phone again. What is going on???
Kim: 🤷🏻
As soon as Kim sends that emoji to Macau since he doesn't actually know, he moves over to the text group Porsche started with the two of them.
Porsche: Kinn and Vegas talked on the phone for over an hour last night. I guess it went well. Kinn was emotional when I got back to the suite, but he said it went better than he expected it to go.
Porsche: And they're on the phone again. Idk who called who.
Porsche: They're fighting over some game they played when they were kids and are choosing to be pissed off about that over literally anything else?
Porsche: Vegas hung up on him 😕
Porsche: Nevermind, he answered when Kinn called him back.
Porsche: I don't know what is going on. Kinn is laughing about something. It's exhausting to keep up with. I am about to go hang out with Arm and Khun because they cause me less stress.
Chay: You can't. This is more important and interesting.
Porsche: Important, maybe. It isn't interesting when I can only hear one side of the conversation. You know two people who are interesting? Arm and Khun.
Porsche: Also? Took you long enough to answer.
Kim: 🤷🏻
“Is that all you have to contribute to both conversations?” Chay asks as Kim cuddles back into him, “You just found out your brother is on his second phone call with Vegas and that's the only thing you can say?”
“It's their third conversation,” Kim mumbles, wrapping himself around Chay, “Vegas hung up on him the second time. See? I care. I paid attention to what I read.”
“Kim,” Chay says, “This could be huge for your family. You may have some sort of reconciliation and be friends with your cousins again after years of animosity.”
“I’m not going to get my hopes up, but that sounds nice.” Kim says, but it is apparently not enough.
“Kim. Call your brother. See how he's doing.”
Kim glances up at Chay, “It sounds like he is probably on the phone.”
Chay points at Kim's phone and keeps staring at him, “Try. If he doesn't pick up, ask him to get a hold of you later.”
“Or I can just call him later,” Kim counters, “Or talk to him when I get home.”
Chay lets out a huff, “I'm nosy, P’Kim! I want to know what's going on now! I'm invested, just like Hia is invested in us, as well as Arm and Khun-”
“Pretty sure ArmKhun is his top ship now,” Kim says with a shrug, “And there is no romance between Kinn and Vegas, so it isn't really comparable-”
“Maybe I get more invested in toxic family dynamics than I am in romantic couples!” Chay says, then literally rolls over Kim to grab the phone before handing it to him, “Call him. Now.”
#progression preview#progression 22#kimchay fic#kinnporsche fanfic#kimchay fanfic#progression spoilers#I may share a second preview#i just started writing and felt like sharing what i have so far lol
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A HH Lucifer-centric AU 16/?
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22
Hotel reaction 2 electric boogaloo
still deciding whether i'll post tomorrow
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4 hours later, despite the arrival of Lucifer and the mystery woman, there is barely no progress. Charlie and the others were so hopeful the first few times because it did look like the extra power was doing something. But every time they make a dent, it bites back even worse.
They flinch as another Goetia fell, prompting the Prince of Lust to call for a retreat from her dad.
Lucifer: No! We can't afford to lose a Ring.
Cherri: They are clearly exhausted.
Angel: Yeah. One day won't be tha bad, right toots?
Charlie: Umm, I don't think so. Hell's rings are a complicated. They aren't just places, it's a system. Losing one will inevitably cause the others to fall apart.
Husk: I guess his majesty doesn't want us backed to a corner. If they let Sloth be consumed then who knows how bigger the problem would get.
Vaggie: He's right. The best solution is dealing with it at the literal root. They can theoretically recoup but by the looks of things, Sloth has little to no time left.
Husk: Mhhm. The constant ritual might be the only thing keeping it alive. The ring is basically on life support.
Lucifer: Goodie!
Goodie: I cannot give more of something I do not have, angel. I warned you that my support alone will most likely not stop this.
Lucifer: We should at least be denting it!
They quickly covered their ears as the TV let out a sound so ear-piercing that it feels like their head is splitting in half.
Angel: What the fuck???
Looking up despite the pain, they see that giant roots sprout from the ground. It went up and up until it reached Lucifer's pentagram in the sky.
Husk: Is that a fuckin' tree?
Charlie is transfixed on the image. She has lived in Hell all her life but this is the first time she had felt dread from something that came from her home.
'This is not of Hell.' She thought. It makes her sick. But her stupor was cut short as a new voice cuts through the footage.
Leviathan: Luci! Your marks!
Charlie looks in equal horror as her Uncle Leviathan when she saw the state her dad was in. The marks on his body have now almost consumed his whole face. She lets out a sob as Lucifer held up the mirror Alastor provided to inspect his condition.
No one spoke as he does this. Then after a moment, Charlie saw something in her dad's eyes.
Lucifer: Goodie. What do I need to do?
Charlie was about to say her confusion out loud when the lady, Goodie, blew a piece of paper onto the King's skin.
Goodie: This might be the only way to stop my sister. That is an ancient seal from before the Nothing- strong enough to render God and beings like Roo weak.
Satan: Huh?! Then why didn't you just let us use that from the start??
Cherri: Yeah! The shit??
Husk: I don't like this.
Charlie shares the same sentiment. Whatever is happening, she has a bad feeling.
Goodie: Because there is a condition.
Lucifer: And what's that?
Goodie: It must be performed from the inside. It needs to be as close as possible to the one you are sealing. The hold will be stronger with proximity. And with you being the highest power here...
Belphegor: Then that means-!
Nononononono, please don't. Please don't let it be what I think it is. Please don't do it. Please dad. I love you. I miss you. Please don't leave me PLEASE-
Lucifer: I need to be the one to go in there.
Protests from the hotel residents and demons on the broadcast overlap with each other. Charlie's ears are ringing. Her chest is tight and it's getting harder and harder to breathe. She can feel someone's hand around her, probably attempting to ground her. Yup, definitely a coming panic attack.
Lucifer: Are you sure this will stop her?
She can vaguely hear someone, probably Vaggie, say something to her but it's all muffled. Charlie could only focus her hearing on the scene in the TV.
Dark spots are filling her vision and her breaths are erratic as her beating heart.
PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEDADPLEASENOTYOUDONTLEAVEMETOODADPLEASE
Goodie: You are the key, angel. It must be you.
Charlie's world turns to black as she collapses in the arms of her lover. And if her dad looked directly at the camera in hopes of meeting her gaze, well, she'll never know.
#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin charlie#hazbin angel dust#hazbin husk#hazbin lilith#hazbin vaggie#hazbin nifty#hazbin cherri bomb#hazbin sir pentious#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel vaggie#hazbin hotel niffty#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel cherri bomb#hazbin hotel sir pentious#radioapple#alastor x lucifer#duckiedeer#lucifer x alastor#appleradio#alastor and lucifer#hazbin hotel fics#hazbin hotel fictive#hazbin hotel fictionkin#hazbin hotel fic recs
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Stories To Be Told: PART 22
Series Index
A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?
a/n: ya’ll. let's just admit we need an azriel. because i certainly do. also we’re going to pretend fae have modern things like tampons and shit.
WARNING: mentions of a woman's menstrual cycle. (blood, and everything else that comes with a period)
↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣
When I awoke the next morning… I honestly didn’t know what was worse. The pain in my abdomen or the blood that was seeping into my undergarments, and making me feel disgusting. My cycle was usually like this, coming on with absolutely no warning. And then terrible for the entire time. Absolutely just miserable.
“Fuck,” I groaned, curling up a little more to a position that ever so slightly alleviated the pain I was in.
A few more long minutes went by and I tried to stop dying-
“Y/N?” Azriel asked from behind my door.
I rolled my eyes. “What?!” I called back, cringing painfully as another wave of cramps took over. Why didn’t I count the months?! Why did I forget about this stupid biannual cycle bullshit?
“I was wondering if you were coming to training. It’s been an hour since you usually wake up,” he explained.
An hour?! Maybe those long minutes were more than just minutes. Or I just woke up later because of this stupid dumb natural cycle.
“I’m not,” I replied. “Not in a million years with this stupid pain-“ I added with a whisper to myself.
“Are you alright?” Azriel asked, sounding more concerned now.
“Perfectly fine,” I answered, probably failing horribly at keeping my voice even. “Just go on without me!”
“Can I open the door?” He asked.
I glanced back at the rest of the bed. No blood stains just yet, so… “Fine.”
I tried to move into a position that extenuated exhaustion instead of pain. But something on my face must’ve given it away. Azriel opened the door and saw me laying there, and then immediately rushed over to the bedside, hands raising above me, but not touching.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’re in pain.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s because I am. I’m skipping training today, I might see you later.”
His brows furrowed, confusion evident on his face. “What’s wrong?” He asked, kneeling down to meet my gaze easier. “Can I help?”
I groaned, both hands reaching under my stomach in a useless attempt to alleviate the pain. “No, you can’t help,” I said, turning my face back into the pillows. “Nobody can, now go off and do your thing-”
“Can you at least tell me what it is? Should I get Madja?”
“I’m fine-” I cut myself off with a groan, wings curling up over my back as every muscle in my body seemed to tense at once. Like fuck- couldn’t they have made this process pleasant!?
Azriel’s hands went to rest on the bed, inching closer. “Angel? You alright?”
“No,” I answered honestly. “It’s my cycle- completely normal, just fucking awful-”
I turned my head to see his reaction, His eyes were flickering with immediate recognition. He winced visibly as well, as if feeling the sympathy pain. Which honestly? With this odd bond? He might just be able to feel it. Which in that case, he’s leaving me right here and getting out of range as quick as fucking possible. I might wish I didn’t have this, and sometimes wished males also had some occurrence as well, but I wouldn’t wish this upon Azriel, who, in most senses, had been quite kind to me.
“Oh,” he hummed. He sniffed the air experimentally, snapping his attention back to my gaze. “I should’ve smelled that. Sorry angel. How can I help you?” His voice was so soft and comforting. Fuck, it just rolled off his tongue so easily and settled across me like a fuzzy little ball of happiness. There was no other way to describe it.
“I’m fine,” I lied, lifting the blanket off of my back using my wings. It was starting to get just slightly too sweaty under it. “Just need to get some things from town once the cramps die down slightly. Go to training.”
“You need–they’re called tampons right?” He questioned, staring at me. I nodded, confirming his statement. “Right, how about I go get them for you then?”
I lifted a brow. “I think everyone would stare at you weird.”
“Like I care. I’ll be right back, alright angel?” Azriel said, standing quickly.
I opened my mouth to protest that I could do it myself, but Azriel had already walked out the door, closing it so it was left only cracked.
I sighed, rolling my eyes at his antics. Really, I would’ve been able to get it myself. It just might’ve taken a while until I had the will to battle against the pain stemming from my abdomen, thighs and lower back.
Azriel returned not too long after, holding a box of tampons in his left hand, which he set down on my bedside table before kneeling down to be eye level with me. “How are you holding up? How long do these last again?”
I cringed as another wave rolled over me. I crushed my hands to my stomach, clenching my jaw tight to stop a groan from escaping. “I’m fine,” I lied. “And about a week, at least for me. Some get longer and some get shorter.”
“Your lying skills might need to be brushed up on,” he chuckled. “Do you want me to talk to Madja about some sort of tonic for the pain?”
“First tell me if you can feel it,” I ordered. “Because if you can, yes and then you’re leaving.”
“It’s very weak, but a little,” he admitted. “But not anything compared to what I imagine you’re feeling.”
“You do not deserve any sort of pain when I’m the one supposed to be dealing with it, leave and go to training,” I ordered, closing my eyes as another wave came over some sort of wall that was the threshold of pain.
“I already told Cass I wasn’t going,” Az chuckled. “Now, how can I help? Would the tonic help?”
I groaned in both frustration and pain. “Fine, go get the stupid tonic.”
Azriel smirked, clearly proud of the fact I’d given in. “Be right back sweetheart.” And then he left before I could question him on the next new little name he’d given me. How many do I have now? Angel, baby and then sweetheart?! Fucking hell.
My trail of thinking was cut off again as the pain came to overwhelm my senses again. Gods, I really just needed to find a good book to dive into. Maybe a distraction would work? Right? If I managed to get the damn energy to do anything. A bath, a book and then suffering. I didn’t have the patience for any of those right now.
Azriel returned after gods know how long, holding a small bottle of amber liquid that looked suspiciously like alcohol.
“Is that whiskey?” I asked, eyebrows scrunching up as I looked at the bottle.
Az scoffed. “No, Madja claims it's something to help with pain.”
I rolled my eyes, pushing myself to sit with my back against the pillows and wings splayed out on either side of me. I held out a hand and Azriel dropped it into my palm. I gave another look at the liquid inside before popping the cork off and swallowing it down. Bitter as fuck.
I opened my mouth as soon as the liquid was down, face scrunching up against the bitter taste. “Fucking hell,” I swore. “Madja needs a damn warning on that thing. I’ve never tasted something worse.”
Az wordlessly took the bottle back, putting it beside the tampons on my bedside table. “Do you need to…” he hesitated, gesturing towards the box with his scarred hands.
I sighed, still holding a hand to my stomach. “Look away, spymaster,” I ordered. “Don’t need you scandalized with the blood.”
“I’ve seen much worse than blood,” he replied. “But very well; I will turn away.” He shifted on his feet, body facing towards the door now.
With a silent wince, I pulled myself out of the bed, and quickly grabbed a second set of undergarments, night pants and then the box of tampons before running into the bathroom.
After dealing with that, I almost just laid down on the cool tile floor. I felt nauseous as hell, black spots entering my vision as I washed my hands and attempted to walk straight toward the bathroom door. All I had to do was make it to the bed and then I could pass the fuck out again, and pray to every higher being out there that when I woke up, it wasn’t worse. It probably still would be, to be honest.
Azriel had turned back to face the bathroom door, eyes narrowing as I stumbled out of it and toward the bed. I felt my foot trip over the other just as my vision went almost completely black. I spread my wings, hands flying out automatically, but I never hit the ground.
I groaned, and Azriel slowly lowered me to the ground, knees bending so I was sitting on my calves instead.
“Y/N?” Azriel asked. “What’s wrong?”
I held a hand to my forehead, feeling the sweat coming off of it.
“Can you hear me?” He asked again, sounding more urgent with each passing second.
“I’m fine,” I growled, looking around the room. It was spinning less with my lack of walking. My wings had slumped to the ground, one of my claws at the apex was laying on Azriel’s knee. I could distantly feel the fabric of his pants, but I could barely see straight, much less try and think about that.
“Y/N,” Azriel stated, a warning tone entering his voice. “You are not fine. You almost just blacked out.”
“I am fine,” I insisted. “This is normal.”
“You normally pass out while walking on your cycle? Are you sure?”
“No,” I answered. “I don’t normally pass out. I just trip a bit when I’m dizzy is all.”
“That amount of dizziness isn’t normal,” he insisted. “You should be able to at least walk straight.”
“Whatever,” I dismissed.
He sighed, head dipping down. I noticed now, that his hands were still grappling onto each of my upper arms, still holding tightly as if he was afraid I was about to faint and fall over or something. Which I wasn’t. I would be fine. I had dealt with these before. This one might be one of the worst ones in a while, but that didn’t mean shit.
“Let me help you onto the bed,” he murmured, moving his arms to support me as I stood. He looked at the distance to the bed once I was standing before literally sweeping my feet off, and settling me down on the sheets again. I was damned lucky they hadn’t gotten stained. Must’ve been the way I’d been laying that saved them.
I curled up with my knees to my chest against the pillows, looking at Azriel with a lifted brow. “I could’ve walked.”
“And I wanted to carry you,” he chuckled. “Now, tell me, how can I help?”
Well, he was certainly determined.
“And don’t claim you’re fine,” he said quickly as my mouth opened to deliver the same lie as before. “You almost just fainted.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think there is anything you can do to help,” I replied instead. “This is kinda a thing that happens and is dealt with alone.”
“Well,” he hummed. “You keep putting your hands to your abdomen, so I’m assuming that at least gives the illusion of helping. You’re shaking like you're cold, and sweating like you're hot, so something to help even out that temperature might help.”
My brows furrowed, concerned on how the hell he’d gleaned so much information just from being here for such a short period of time.
“So, angel, how would you like me to help?”
I rolled my eyes, sighing. He wasn’t going to give in, and I was in too much pain to fight on this for very long. I didn’t want to get some weird emotional response or something. The other symptoms that followed this bullshit. “What do you feel like doing?” I asked. “Like- suggest something. You’re being too open ended for me to answer.”
Azriel smiled softly at that. “How about…” he hummed. “You move over slightly on the bed, and I sit next to you, or lay behind you and lay my hand on your abdomen, and keep you at a normal temperature at the same time?”
I swallowed, but internally, my heart swooned. He truly did care. My mate cared. And that just made me swoon even more, heart aching pleasantly at the thought.
“Okay,” I coughed out finally. “Yeah.” I shuffled my wings at the same time as moving my body down the bed so that my head was on the pillows and farther over on the bed. I didn’t really want to face him, because the emotions I was feeling were likely already playing out on the bond for him. So if I saw his reactions, likely it wouldn’t end well.
“You okay with me brushing against your wings, angel?” He asked, the bed pitching downwards as he crawled onto it.
I nodded. “Just don’t-” I cut myself off, unable to form the proper words to describe what I was forbidding him from doing.
Luckily, he seemed to understand well enough. He pressed against my back and wings, but didn’t let his hands linger anywhere, or move too drastically to cause some reaction from the touch. It was gentle, and caring. Careful, but also freeing. He looped an arm over my middle, laying his palm against my abdomen.
“Where’s it hurt?” He asked, his other arm coming up under the pillow my head was on. I simply lifted my head so he could move it under my neck for a more comfortable position. Cuddling was a foreign concept, but I knew enough from books.
I reached down to position Azriel’s hand gently with mine. “Mostly right there,” I answered, setting my hand back against the bed. Another wave washed over and I winced, jaw tightening as my eyes closed of their own accord.
Azriel’s hand began to gently rub over the fabric of my shirt. It gave the illusion of help, and also felt… immensely comforting actually. My mate pressed up against me. The male who I apparently had grown to love, caring for me oh so gently. Azriel, the idiot, cuddling up close to me. This wasn’t a sexually enticing position in the slightest. It was just comfort.
“Is this helping?” He asked, breath brushing against my neck.
I wordlessly nodded, pushing my head down more before settling where I was. I yawned, unable to contain the sound. Fuck, these things really just made my entire sleep schedule, emotions, and body just… wacky.
“You tired?”
“A little,” I admitted. “I should get up and do something.”
“No,” he chuckled. “You shouldn’t. Rest sweetheart.”
“Should I call that a new name unlocked?” I joked, eyes still closed, but my mouth curved into a big smile.
He scoffed, but I could almost feel his grin from here. “I can call you many more things, add to the list if you’d like.”
I rolled my eyes beneath my lids, but that smile only grew.
“Rest darling,” he commanded. “I won’t leave you.”
I grinned a little before taking a deep heaving breath of air, and letting relaxation fill me.
As sleep came to claim me, I started to wonder about what would happen if I did accept the bond, and decided to fall in love with Azriel. What would the future be like? I could imagine Azriel just like he was now, cuddling up close to his lover and assuring them that he loved them every moment he could. With a short flare of heat, I also wondered what Azriel would be like… in bed. Would he be rough? Gentle? Kinky as fuck? Sleep claimed me before I could continue that trail of thoughts completely.
Azriel continued to refuse to leave me alone. He did go back to his own bed during the night, but only for the beginning. By the third day he was staying the night because we’d passed out so early in the evening. Waking up felt surreal the next morning.
I started to tease him that if he didn’t train, he was going to lose all that handsome muscle. Of course, I accidently said it exactly like that, and he had smirked so fucking big it looked like it hurt.
Now, the entire thing was entirely too unpleasant to deal with. Back pain, abdomen pain, muscle soreness, headaches, nausea and dizziness, emotional instability… all of it. It was worse being around actual people too. People who could get hurt by some impulsive words of mine, or I could hurt them by accidently getting too emotional—
“Stop thinking,” Azriel ordered, hand running through my hair. “Just relax.”
I felt better than usual today, so I would probably try to go to training tomorrow. Even if it would be miserable. I didn’t train this week. 2 times a year, I didn’t train once. Because I’d always have trouble recognizing those limits, and it’d only make me feel more like shit when I realize I can’t do something because of the pain, or I’m weak, or something.
“Baby…” Azriel complains. “I can see your little upset face from here. Stop it.”
A smile curved onto my face.
Azriel had been so, so soft during this. Cuddling, so unlike the deadly spymaster I’d heard stories of, and gentle reassurances and check-ups so different from the figure I’d heard could kill so easily with just a flick of his wrist. It was both unnerving and reassuring. Azriel was softening up. I distantly wanted to know how long he’d felt the damn bond. How long had he’d been holding himself back from these soft little intimate moments? He’d argued with me enough that I didn’t have a damn clue.
But I enjoyed it. The softness. It felt like something I’d been craving for so long, finally given to me. It felt like another home, within a home. And Azriel knew me better than anyone alive right now. He knew my story, knew my tendencies. He even knew the face I made when I was upset. He knew. And I knew him as well. It was companionship at its best level. It was friendship at its closest. It was… it was a mate who cared oh so much. And one I cared for in return. These soft moments hadn’t just been for me. I’d attempted to scratch his head too, even if he waved me off. I’d tried a bit more innocent touching. A hug, leaning into his scratches, letting him near me in a way nobody had ever been.
Maybe I didn’t need as much time to think as I thought.
“Sleep,” Azriel complained. “If you want to go to training tomorrow, you’re going to sleep.”
I scoffed. “Bossy spymaster,” I admonished with a grin.
“Stubborn rogue,” he replied cheekily.
I rolled my eyes, but they fell shut momentarily as I settled into the soft embrace of love.
↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣
TAGLIST (see post for getting added)
@mis-lil-red, @bunnymallowo, @judig92, @biblophilefox82, @azzydaddy, @thegirlintheshadows101, @whatupmydudes01, @feyres-fireheart, @elizarikaallen, @xenlynn, @panzees-bizarre-adventures, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @baebeepeach, @nyctophiliiiiaaa, @brekkershadowsinger, @officiallyunofficialperson, @bookslut420, @margssstuff, @bluephoenix908, @goldentournesol, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @ladylokilaufeyson5,
#azriel#azriel x reader#azrielxreader#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#fluff#acotar fluff#periods suck#mywriting
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Truth or Dare?, pt. 2
Synopsis: Minho and you played a game of Truth or Dare, and when you don't comply with the rules and refuse to obey your orders as a loser, you must face the consequences.
Content: sub!readerxdom!minho, fem!reader, perv!minho, best friends to lovers, school au, dry humping, Minho is a bastard but also super hot so we'll let him get away with it, exhibitionism, suggestive content.
Word Count: 3.1 K
Author's Note: Part 2 let's go! Hope you guys enjoy! I tried finishing up this while watching Minho's 06/24/22 live and literally him coughing and choking is making me laugh because like "I'm really writing about this guy who is literally scarfing down chipotle and dying?" Also I love all the gifs I found for this fic like Leeknow is so ethereal looking damn. Additionally, even though the characters in this fic are portraying students, both characters are 18+. Please, do not interact with my work if you are a minor. Thank you and enjoy !!
Taglist: @scribblemetae, @mygsis, @9900z, @taekbokki
part 1, part 2, part 3
God, were you really doing this? It was just a stupid bet, just something to make a game of Truth or Dare a little bit more fun. Now, you were like... this in the middle of school.
Why did you do it? What could be worse than being panty-less and wearing a fucking school uniform like some random pervert's fetish dream? It's because it wasn't just some random pervert who told you to do this. It was fucking him.
And he had every right to tell you to do this. After all, he won the bet. He wanted to see you bare, soaking, and desperate for him. And now, he's gotten exactly what he wanted.
The entire day has been hell. Despite your exhaustive usage of your toy collection yesterday after Minho's departure, you found yourself still hopeless for relief this morning. Yet, you lost track of time and realized that if you did stop to play with your clit or even think about jacking off that you would be late for school. So, you swiftly dressed and rushed over.
Luckily I didn't have to worry about putting on underwear, huh?, you thought. Okay, so you were trying to make light of an otherwise awful situation. However, the usage of humour did little to relieve your growing frustration.
Fuck, you didn't even see Minho yet today and let him know that you were holding up your end of the bargain. Yet, you didn't want to text him, scared that he'd do something drastic like make you send pictures as part of your punishment or make you skip class to come show him.
And, the sad truth was, you would. You would leave any class and test in a heartbeat if it meant showing him your soaking pussy, giving him a taste of whatever you were willing to offer him. Because of yesterday, you had become putty in his hands. Although you should be embarrassed by such desperation, you couldn't help it. Minho's hold on you was intolerable, yet you couldn't escape it.
But that still didn't excuse how pissed you were at him. You've had to carefully navigate the school this entire day: being at the end of the crowd, twisting and turning uncomfortably in your chair all day, and waiting until everyone else had left for lunch just so you had the chance to use the stairs without having to worry about accidentally flashing someone.
Worst of all? This, this whole ordeal, it turned you on. It was fucking hot that you did all this for Minho, that you are such a desperate puppy that you are willing to abandon your studies just to let him see you like this. Embarrassing as it was, it was fucking thrilling.
However, you wanted to punish him just as much as he was punishing you. If he wanted to see you so bad, he had to work for it.
Though you would have killed to see him now, you had to exercise restraint. Maybe you could go this entire day without seeing him. Your classes didn't line up and you never spent lunch together, so the chances of him seeing you were slim to none. You would just have to avoid him when trying to walk home, and you were free! He would have to live the rest of his life knowing he made you go an entire day at school without fully covering yourself and that he didn't get to see you. It would make him go mad, and that's exactly what you wanted.
So, here you were. It was nearing the end of the school day and you had managed to navigate the entire ordeal with relative ease. You hung back, rarely tried to get up, and ate lunch alone to avoid having to take the stairs down to your regular lunch spot. The day had gone off without a hitch. Now, you just had to make it through advanced calculus and then homework period and you were home free! Of course, you are uncomfortable, worried your pussy will wet through your skirt and stain the fabric, but that's a minor problem compared to fully exposing yourself.
Now, you just have to get through this teacher droning on about a subject you've already mastered and—
Wait, what's that incessant sound? Oh god. The fire alarm. From the look on the teacher's face, you can tell that this wasn't a planned drill. Fuck, what idiot put tinfoil in the microwave or pulled the alarm for shits and giggles?
Reluctantly, you get out of your seat and follow your swarm of classmates out the door. Since everyone is distracted by the blaring beeps of the alarm and the rushing crowd, no one even has a chance to glance up your skirt. Though you are still on your toes about the whole thing, you trust that everyone is too busy escaping the school to notice you weirdly tugging at your skirt as you go down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairwell, students are taking a sharp turn to the emergency exit right behind the staircase. You are at the edge of the crowd, hoping that you won't get trampled and about to take the turn towards the door. Suddenly, you feel a sharp tug on your arm and are pulled around the corner into an empty adjacent hallway.
The force drags you further and further until you round another corner. Before you even come to a complete halt, you are pushed against the wall and are unexpectedly trapped between a figure and the brick of the school. Now, you are left alone in a silent hallway with the culprit who pulled you away from your class and left you in this potentially on-fire building.
Of course. It's Minho.
"What the hell?! Min— hmph!" His hand clasps over your mouth, his other extending its index finger towards his puckered lips, telling you to be quiet. His eyes don't meet the anger pouring out of yours and instead glance down the hall, seeing if anyone realized your absence. No one seems to be coming down the hall but he makes you stay completely still in fear of being caught.
As the noises of the students die out as the last of them exits the building, Minho's eyes finally turn to yours. Then, his small pout against his finger slowly turns into a smirk, then a small giggle. He drops his hand like a dead weight and stays there for a second, studying your furrowed brow and the wrath of your eyes.
"You know," he said quietly, breaking the silence, "you're really cute when you're mad." He let his other hand drop, finally letting you breathe. And, immediately upon your liberation, you begin furiously slapping Minho, making him recoil and laugh at your efforts to harm him.
"Stop, stop!" He protested, his voice and your hits the only audible noises in the entire school minus the distant beeps of the fire alarm.
"Don't—fucking—tell—me—you—pulled—the—alarm!" You whisper shouted at him with every hit.
"Pfft! I did, I did, but it's for a good reason!" He responded in fits of giggles, grabbing your hands and holding them tightly to prevent you from hitting him again.
"Why? It better be good! Now I'm gonna be in trouble cause the security cameras probably caught you pulling me away!"
"No, they won't," Minho playfully swung your hands in his, ignoring the efforts you made to escape his grip and ignoring all worries in favour of annoying you. "Firstly, I know for a fact that this entire hallway is a blindspot. They didn't even put alarms down here because none of these classes are in use, it's just storage space!" He was right: it was silent in this hall, an empty space filled with the echoing beeps of far-away alarms. That's got to be some sort of safety violation, you thought, annoyed with your own diligence.
You rolled your eyes, not surprised that The Lee Minho was such a scumbag that he knew all the secrets this school kept.
When your eyes came back to his, you noticed that the playfulness in them was gone.
"And, secondly," his voice was low, and his grip on you tightened. He walked towards you, making you stumble back until your back hit the wall again, the coldness giving you goosebumps. Or, maybe that was Minho. "Secondly," he whispered, "I needed to see you."
Once again, he had stunned you to silence. The resentment in your eyes had been replaced by genuine curiosity, and the source of your goosebumps was now the way his hands left yours and travelled down your body rather than the chilliness of the hall.
"All day, not even a text from you," he scolded as his hand rubbed down your waist to your hips. "This is my reward and your punishment, and you won't even let me see you... I should exact my revenge anyway, even if you did obey the rules."
"I—I did obey the rules," you spoke softly. "No panties, just like Minnie said." Your sudden obedience made Minho smile slightly, enjoying the pet name you've given to him in your confusion.
"Well, if you want to prove that you're good and follow the rules," the grip on your waist became unbearably tight and you groaned at Minho's eagerness, "then you have to show me."
With his hands placed firmly on your body, Minho abruptly flipped you against the wall, pressing your face into the cold brick. You grunted at the action, shocked with the ease it took to move you like that and somehow enjoying the pain of your face hitting the wall. God, you felt sickened by your own submission, how you enjoyed how he tossed you around.
Minho pressed firmly into you, resting his head on your shoulder and letting his hands glide down your hips to the front of your plump thighs.
"C'mon baby," he growled into your ear, stroking your fat up and down, "show me what you got." Harshly tugging at you, your entire body shifted in his hold. Minho had pulled your ass out and now had your chest pressed into the wall, your back arching in an attempt to hold your precarious posture.
"M-Minho," you mewled out, embarrassment washing over you.
"Aw, y/n, don't worry," he cooed with fake innocence. "It's just us, no need to worry." His hands rubbed the sides of your thighs, his dick pressing into the curve of your ass. "I just wanna get my reward." As you whimpered under him, Minho tantalizingly edged your skirt up, licking his lips at the thought of seeing you bare. Not being able to wait any longer, Minho let his hands ride up your skirt, following the curve of your thighs up against your ass and allowing the fabric to bunch up at your waist.
Minho's deep breathing was the only sound you could hear, your ears flush and your cunt so wet it almost dripped down to the floor below you.
"God, Y/n... you're so pretty... fuck," Minho panted as he let his hands grip your flesh firmly, throwing his head back at the feeling. You moaned as he massaged your ass, unconsciously pushing back further until you pressed firmly into his growing cock. Nothing could match this sensation for him. With every push into you, you pushed back, allowing him to hump your ass through his clothes. If you kept this up, he would cream his pants, ruining them and letting everyone know for the rest of the day that you were so perfect, so hot you were able to make him cum without even taking off his pants. The contortion of your body and your easily accepted submission told Minho everything he needed to know: you were desperate for his cock, and you wanted nothing more than to be filled with him. You didn't even wear panties for him today. God, you were perfect. Rutting into you was all that Minho needed. Relief washed over him with every pump into you. Both of you needed—no, both of you craved this. It was perfect. Looking down at you Minho loved the swell of your backside. Your perfect ass was literally in his grasp, and he could do this forever—
"What is that?" he asked, pulling away and silencing your moans with his sudden question.
Both of you stiffened, knowing what he was referring to. Frankly, you were scared of what was to come. Nonetheless, you tried to play dumb.
"What... what are you talking about?" you asked innocently.
"You know damn well what I'm talking about," Minho growled. The fabric of your skirt pushed higher until his hands found what they were looking for: a hidden hem underneath your skirt. The pressure in your throat built up as your fear crept within you. The article of clothing you attempted to hide had been found.
"Nothing—" you began.
"Don't play fucking dumb with me!" Minho interrupted. His hands grabbed your waist again and, once more, flipped you into the wall. Face to face with him, you realized how little his voice actually let on his true frustration. Fire was behind his eyes, burning from the outrage you had invoked by disobeying him. His arms caged you into the wall, leaning on his elbow while his other hand was placed on your hips.
"Lift. Up. Your. Skirt." Minho's voice was precise and punctual, dictating his rage with every word. For some reason, you still tried to soothe the bull.
"Minho, you should calm—"
"Lift up the fucking skirt!" He shot back. Unflinchingly, you attempted to stare him down, try to out-intimidate him though you knew it would be useless. If you tried to get out of this situation any other way, you knew Minho would immediately want to reassert his dominance. You wanted to simply walk away or call his bluff, but you knew that Minho would grab you and fuck you in the middle of that hall instead. Yet, regardless of your inner carnal desires to fuck him in front of everyone, his anger made you digress, and you followed his orders. Your hands made their way down your body towards the hem of your skirt, grasping it slightly and then reversing up your body to pull the fabric up.
While your eyes stared forward, Minho glared down at your skirt. He knew what was going on and he knew he would be disappointed when he saw it with his own eyes. And he was.
Your breaths were both shaky, filling your ears as he stared down at your cunt.
Instead of your bare, leaking pussy in front of him, you were feebly covered by a small article of clothing— one just big enough to cover your slit but small enough to reveal your ass.
"You're wearing panties," he stated blankly.
"...Actually," your eyes finally met his, "It's a thong. So," you continued hesitantly with a stable voice as if you were explaining the situation to a child, "I didn't technically break the rules." Silence encapsulated the two of you as Minho's breath made you shake. His fury was undeniable, but it simply seemed to radiate off of him. Otherwise, his expression and demeanour were relatively emotionless. But you knew better. You knew that this little act of defiance was probably the straw that broke the camel's back. You swear Minho was about to pounce on you right then and there.
After a beat, Minho spoke.
"How dare you talk back to me right now," he said blankly. You daren't respond to his scolding comment. "You had one instruction, refused to obey it, then patronize me, acting like I wouldn't even fucking notice." Opening your mouth to speak, you quickly shut it when Minho brought his finger to your mouth, silencing you. Then, dropping his hands to your thighs, he rode them up your legs to the edge of the thong. You assumed he would pull it down, taking the thong and making you finish the day actually without underwear. Again— you didn't break the rules because you didn't wear panties. Thongs are panties. Right?
But, Minho didn't take them off. Instead, he pulled them up high, making the fabric that barely covered you apply unbearable pressure to your clit and making you gasp. Leaning in close, Minho placed his head beside yours and whispered in your ear.
"Tonight. Your place. 7 PM. You'll be home alone, yeah?" You give a stiff nod, confirming the time, place, and circumstances. "Good." Minho pulls back and studies your face for a second as he slowly lowers his hands, making you finally breathe out from the pressure relief on your clit.
"And these," he says, "better be out of fucking sight." Finally, he releases your thong straps with a snap against your hips, making you shiver.
In the distance, the faint beeping of the fire alarm shuts off. Shortly after, both of your heads snap up to at the sound of distant voices. Students and staff had begun re-entering the building, telling you that your time was up.
"Fuck, they're gonna think I ditched," Minho sighed, placing his hands in his pockets and leaning back, trying to look down the hall and see if anyone is coming around (though he knew they wouldn't enter this dead zone). "It's fine, I'm pretty sure I can convince my teacher he just brushed over me when taking attendance outside. You should do the same."
His newfound nonchalance shocked you. He was acting as if he didn't just have you bent over, on the verge of begging you to let him ruin you. When Minho was finished studying the hall, he looked back at you examining him intently. Minho smirked and let out a single chuckle.
"I'll see you tonight, y/n," he said. With that goodbye, Minho sauntered off to the rising noise of students, leaving you alone, desperate, and highly embarrassed in the hall.
"Fuck," you sighed aloud. "That's the second time he's left me high and dry. Fucking bastard."
After letting Minho sneakily rejoin the crowd of bustling students, you quickly followed, reemerging into the sea of similarly dressed students and staff, lingering at the back so that no one could glance up your skirt while walking up the stairs.
You knew for a fact that, though you weren't bare, you had completely soaked through the little fabric that concealed you. Fuck, the rest of the day was going to be long.
continued in part 3
#skz smut#stray kids smut#leeknow smut#minho smut#lee minho smut#leeknow x reader#leeknow x y/n#perv!leeknow
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Kloktober 2023 Day 22
Sea Horror or Cosmic Horror
Mkay so I tried my hand at cosmic horror for today. Since I've never written it before, I looked up a playlist on Spotify and everything to get in the mood so I hope this is somehow decent LOL
Featuring Skwisgaar because he's my favorite subject to expose to existential dread <3
Everyone was chatting, drinking, laughing. They had groupies on their laps, amusing them, ready to fuck them at a moment’s notice. It was the end of the first phase of the tour and they wanted to celebrate.
Skwisgaar looked at the corner of the table. Rough, worn-out, dulled... It was old and should probably be replaced.
He swallowed heavily as his bandmates clinked their glasses together. He should be having fun with them, but the dread was peeking at the pit of his stomach, crippling anxiety threatening to come out like foam from a sink.
He had failed a note at tonight’s show. Yeah, okay, in all his time being a guitarist there had been plenty of moments where he had to improvise. A lot of occasions where he had to lead unforeseen circumstances. A little distraction, a little mistake (mostly by Toki) and he had to change up his playing a little. No big deal. He was a pro after all.
Tonight, though, he had been too slow. His fingers have been too clumsy, he hadn’t been able to reach the note in time. Nobody else noticed, though, as he had been able to mask it in time. But he knew he had failed.
And yesterday he had failed a note during rehearsal, too. Only Nathan picked up on it, but didn’t say anything. At the end of rehearsal, he had given Skwisgaar a pat in the back in reassurance and left.
So that was two mistakes. In two days.
He had never fucked up consecutively in his entire career.
Skwisgaar’s eyes picked up on a weird shine on his right hand and he brought it closer for inspection. It was the light shining over his skin, a small smear on the back of his hand.
He rubbed on it with his other hand. He must’ve gotten stained with makeup. Yet, when he looked again. The smear was still there so he kept rubbing.
The smear didn’t move, didn’t go away.
When he brought his hand to his eye-level, he realized it was no smear. Rather, it was a wrinkle. A very small wrinkle, yet a wrinkle, nevertheless. It must’ve appeared very recently because Skwisgaar hadn’t seen it before and nobody paid more attention to his hands than himself.
He stood up, accidentally knocking his knee against the table when he did.
“Skwisgaar?” Pickles called him.
“Just goingks to beds.” He said, walking away. “Ams tireds.”
The group mumbled and whispered. He overheard one of them calling him a weirdo and a basket case and then they went back to laughing.
He didn’t care, he was used to it. Most importantly, though, his ears were ringing, smothering the sound from outside.
When he got to his room, it felt like he had walked a mile distance. And when he picked up his guitar, it felt at least thrice as heavy. Already weirdly exhausted, he sat on his bed to play.
After a few seconds, though, it became abundantly clear it wasn’t coming right. The notes were off, his fingers were slow, his pace was erratic. It was all wrong!
It was all wrong!
Frustrated, he tossed the guitar to the side and looked at the wrinkle on his hand. It had grown bigger. In fact, it was still growing and starting to cover his hand and arm, getting faster with each second.
Skwisgaar dropped his arm, breath hitching yet ultimately unable to do anything as the wrinkle, now a black hole, consumed him.
He found himself in space. In front of him there was a gigantic guitar, the size of a skyscraper. Just standing there, completely still despite not being supported by anything.
Confused, Skwisgaar walked to it, like a moth drawn to a light. There was an old, decrepit man staring back at him. He was balding, his face was full of wrinkles and he had no teeth. His skin was full of spots and moles and he looked frail and bony, like he was on the verge of death.
It wasn’t until Skwisgaar leaned in closer that familiar blue eyes stared back at him. He gasped with horror but, before he could do anything, his body started falling downwards, towards the infinite void. Closing his eyes, he braced himself.
The next time he opened his eyes, he was in a white room and there was nothing in it, besides him and a gigantic brown eye. Unblinking, it bore right at Skwisgaar and, when he tried moving, its stare followed him. He couldn’t explain why, but it was fucking terrifying. He was scared out of his wits of this huge, powerful eye. But there was no door, there was no exit. Just him and the eye.
“You’re done.” A voice thundered in the room, reverberating inside Skwisgaar’s chest. Skwisgaar knew it was the eye’s voice because those three words felt like a death sentence. He gazed at his hands and saw they were disintegrating like sand. Looking at the eye, he tried asking for mercy but his voice wouldn’t come out. The eye finally closed and with it, all light left.
He was tiny and he was stuck. Actually, he had no idea if he was tiny and looking up. The stars and planets were conversing with each other, unaware of him, and light and speed flowing in multitudes he couldn’t comprehend. Skwisgaar wanted to be up there, with them so he started trying to move.
It was making a disgusting noise and he was sure he was covered in something sticky and gross. Like glue or slime, though he couldn’t see quite clearly because it was dark. He kept struggling although it felt futile and when he raised his eyes, he found the entire galaxy had turned to him. The chatter had ceased and, despite having no eyes, Skwisgaar could tell they were judging him for disturbing them.
That he didn’t belong.
When he looked down, he discovered the slimy thing was his own corpse. Several corpses of himself in fact. Liquefied and turned to a viscous mass, they were all him. A never ending ocean of his corpses. They were all him.
They were all dead.
He was dead.
Skwisgaar awoke in his room and saw his guitar tossed to the side of the bed. It was vibrating and inviting, a holy bright surrounding it. Skwisgaar stared at the instrument with fear, unsure whether he wanted to pick it up or not. Ultimately, he decided not to postpone the inevitable and stretched an arm to grab the Gibson by its neck.
Heartbeat thundering, Skwisgaar swallowed when he put it on his lap. He was aware the incessant panting came from his own mouth, yet found himself unable to stop it. He closed his eyes and made himself a promise before his fingers started to play.
It was all the right notes, all the right sounds. It was a melody.
It was…music!
Skwisgaar’s eyes opened with surprise as he glanced down at his fingers. He still had it. The speed, the rhythm, the grace…
Relieved to the point of tears, Skwisgaar hugged his guitar, face nuzzling against its mast.
He was not done yet.
#kloktober2023#kloktober#skwisgaar skwigelf#metalocalypse#my writing#no beta we die like men etc#i had no idea what i was doing but this was fun to do anyway#tw body horror#tw megalophobia
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I know we all love George and feel for him but what is your opinion on the fact no one from Merc was at the podium for Lewis. I'm conflicted
I don’t like to be the “well actually- here’s where they did it to George” guy- but we saw this in Baku 22, I found it justified then; and it was justified today.
For those who weren’t about for it, George ended up third on the podium in Azerbaijan (2022) but it seemed like he had no team under the podium. At the same time, Lewis ended up needing help out of the car because porposing had been so severe on the W13 it was doing damage to their backs, and that weekend the street circuit surface was so irregular that Lewis ended up horribly in pain post race.
The team, rightfully, jumped to make sure he was okay and while some Merc mechanics confirmed later they had actually been at the podium, they just hadn’t been caught by the cameras, the managing/engineering team seemed to get caught up in ensuring Lewis was alright, and then safe to go to the media he is obligated to attend.
A lot of people were upset then, and that’s fair, but I personally found it fair that the team got caught between making sure one driver was okay, and the other was celebrated, and ended up choosing the former. That is what I would prefer they do, I bet it’s what a lot of DRIVERS would prefer they do.
I’m willing to bet that’s what happened today. In the scramble to get George’s damaged car back, half the mechanics are busy collecting the fucked car half way round the track, a few will be cooling and collecting Lewis’ car at the podium, and the upper management team was consoling a guilt ridden George before he has to face the press. I imagine that means that while Lewis didn’t have a lot of people at his podium, he has a few, just not the expected crowd.
Does that suck for Lewis? It’s probably not great, but it’s third and the guy himself didn’t seem to have his usual energy as is. Singapore is exhausting, and while he’s happy for the podium, that’s not how you want it to happen for your team. He made that point himself. If the positions were flipped, folks would be livid the team were cheering George while Lewis struggled.
Forgetting all that, Lewis is clearly over it if it bothered him at all, given the post race video of him with the mechanics, and I think we should follow his lead. Your team is with you for the lows and the highs, and those clash sometimes.
#asks#anonymous#Mark’s driver meta#wank/rants#a lot of this is assumptions#but anyone whose taking some in the dark camera footage and eye accounts that Lewis had no team is making assumptions too#I don’t know If Merc handled socials well today- but in a flipped situation if they celebrated too much Lewis people would be pissed#singapore gp 2023
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