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#y'know.. it happened
its-tea-time-darling · 8 months
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im sorry, we turned your boyfriend into a mole. yeah and all of tumblr‘s interested in him now. sorry
edit 9/12/23 11.22 CET
and so it begins…
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fic1, fic2 @pathsofoak ao3 tag. Mole Poem @thaliaisalesbian . fic by @tourmelion .
update:
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ao3 link. please vote for mole scene in most underrated goncharov scene poll
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irisbaggins · 5 months
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In rewatching the season, I'm noticing how clever Aabria and Brennan were in crafting Tula's story. How well thought out everything was.
Specifically, the bear. It's been mentioned so many times before, but with the context of the completed season, I cannot help but be in awe at the skilful storytelling at display here. The way in which the Blue is described to appear wrong only in reference to Tula and her heart, the way in which Tula talks about curiosity and and having experienced knowing someone who died because of it. Of how Aabria describes to Izzy how Tula looks when she heals the bear, of how Aabria specifically points out that Tula recognises the commonalities between herself and the bear. These breadcrumbs that mean little in the beginning, that tell everything at the end. It's amazing, stunning, masterful storytelling. I am in awe.
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seventh-district · 8 months
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Midnight Hour
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With the warm haze of sleep fading from you, your brow furrows as your right hand presses lightly against his lower abdomen, your thumb sweeping up and down in a small attempt at a comforting motion. You quietly call for his attention, voice still thick with sleep.
“Star? Is everything okay?”
His typically silent breath suddenly hitches, and his head angles down to face you. Now that he’s turned toward the light, you catch the way his eyes shine, and the way the light reflects off of what you quickly realize are tear tracks, running down his cheeks.
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You awake in the middle of the night to find your lover in tears.
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Pairing: Astarion x Reader
Word Count: 3,139
Content Warnings: [crying (obviously)] [non-specific mentions of Astarion's past trauma] [this fic was written by someone who hasn't actually played the game and that might show in the details/the lack thereof]
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Blinking your tired eyes open, you squint at the light of the crackling fire in front of you. Closing them again, you let out a soft sigh as you try to guess at the current time. Given that you woke on your own, you’re assuming it’s likely close to, but not quite, time for you to take over tonight’s watch shift.
Your group has fallen into a routine where you pair off into teams of two, and a different team keeps watch each night. Tonight’s turn belongs to you and Astarion, and he’s taken the first half of the shift as usual. You usually, ironically, sleep your best on the nights that he keeps watch, in spite of only getting half the amount of sleep as you do on the nights another team has the job.
You suppose you can credit the fact that, at the end of the day, Astarion is a creature of the night. Something about knowing he has the upper hand when it comes to any unwanted nighttime visitors your group may encounter is… reassuring. To you, as well as to the others in the group, loathe as some of them may be to admit it. That is, once they all felt confident in his promises to not make a surprise midnight snack of them, at least.
Tonight is a bit of an exception, though, and you’re not quite sure what woke you early this time. You typically sleep soundly until he gently coaxes you awake, nails combing through your hair, voice soft and apologetic in your ear. He’s always somewhat reluctant to wake you, but he does so nonetheless, having learned his lesson after the first time he made the executive decision to let you sleep the whole night through. His arguments of “You really looked like you could use the rest.” and “What’s one sleepless night? I can sleep when I’m dead.” didn’t hold much water in the face of the way he dragged ass through the entire next day.
In “the spirit of fairness” and “proving that he can stick to an agreement,” he never tried to take the whole shift by himself again. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with how guilty he felt when he heard the disappointment in your tone when you awoke that first morning and discovered he hadn’t stuck to the plan. Definitely.
Laying there in the quiet, you try and fail to pinpoint what feels different about tonight. You don’t hear any strange noises, nothing feels unusual, and blinking your eyes open again you raise your head a bit to look around the fire. The rest of the group are circled around the other sides of the heat source, sleeping soundly. You figure that you’re probably just getting used to this routine by now, and your body simply woke up around your usual shift change time on its own.
Still, that doesn’t explain the vague, unplaceable feeling that something is just… off.
You let out a sigh that turns into a yawn as you stretch and roll away from the fire onto your back. Letting your head roll further to the left, your eyes land on the familiar sight of your lover’s back as he sits in his usual position beside you, diligently watching your six.
He’s taken to placing his bedroll right next to yours, insisting that you lie between the fire and himself. You couldn’t really argue with his point that he can’t feel the cold anyways, so there’s no need for him to be the one next to the fire. Nor could you argue with the benefits of having him as a line of defense between you and whatever lurks beyond the reach of the firelight.
The feeling of security and protection that he provides you with is still relatively foreign to you, and a soft smile blooms on your face at the warm feeling it brings. Your smile then falls a bit as you remember the silent question you ask yourself on the regular, of whether or not you provide him with the same.
You roll the rest of the way to your left, and shuffle further toward him, closing what remains of the small gap he’d placed between the two of you. Lying halfway on your bedroll and halfway on his, you curl your body around his seated form, bringing your right arm up and gently placing a hand on the right side of his waist. He flinches slightly, and if this were earlier on in your relationship, you’d retract your hand. He’s long since informed you though that his reaction to unexpected touch is simply involuntary, and as long as it’s you, you’ve no need to pull away.
You recall the quiet, restrained desperation in his voice when he first explained it to you, all but begging you not to pull away. He can’t control the way his body reacts to touch, given that before you, he couldn’t recall the last time being touched meant anything other than pain. In spite of that though, he wants it. He wants you. That’s obvious in the way that he, without fail, immediately relaxes under your gentle touch once his mind and body process that it’s coming from you. The way he’s come to not only relax, but to lean into it. Lean into you.
You’d never push past his boundaries, never in a million years, but he’s made it quite clear after about a thousand of your quiet requests for consent at every minor touch, that he’s entirely welcoming of your non-sexual physical affections. Getting the man to verbally admit that he actually enjoys cuddling with you, without the truth being concealed beneath a heavy layer of playful banter and practiced, honeyed words didn’t come easy, but he came around to it in his own time.
So, you don’t pull back, instead following through with the motion and slowly snaking your arm around his waist. You press your front against his lower back and curl around to rest your left cheek atop his left thigh. You can’t help but notice that he doesn’t relax into you in the way he usually does, and your head turns to the right a bit, struggling to get a half-decent look at his face as you’re both turned away from the fire light.
He remains tense, still, and unresponsive to your movements, gaze seemingly locked dead ahead of him, staring out into the dark forest.
With the warm haze of sleep fading from you, your brow furrows as your right hand presses lightly against his lower abdomen, your thumb sweeping up and down in a small attempt at a comforting motion. You quietly call for his attention, voice still thick with sleep.
“Star? Is everything okay?”
His typically silent breath suddenly hitches, and his head angles down to face you. Now that he’s turned toward the light, you catch the way his eyes shine, and the way the light reflects off of what you quickly realize are tear tracks, running down his cheeks. He’s actively crying, tears dripping from his chin, and now with his head tilted down at you they take a different path, running down to converge and fall from the tip of his nose.
You nearly bolt upright in your shock, quickly unwrapping yourself from him and clambering around on all fours until you’re sat down in front of him, your hands gripping tightly to your upper thighs in worry. His wide-eyed gaze followed your every movement, and even now that you’re sat still in front of him, his eyes still dart around, frantically scanning you, for what, you don’t know.
“What- what’s going on?”
You keep your voice as quiet as you reasonably can in spite of your shock and concern, not eager to wake your companions and have everyone witness… whatever this is.
He doesn’t respond, looking just about as lost as you feel, shaking his head in silence as more tears fall. It’s one hell of a sight, and it suddenly hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.
Unsure of what to do and what even caused this, you resist the urge to wrap him in a hug, not wanting to overstep in this unfamiliar territory. Instead, you glance back over your shoulder and once again see and hear nothing of note before trying another question.
“Is there a threat? Did you see something that scared you, honey?”
He takes a long moment to answer, seeming unsure, before eventually settling on another shake of his head. His lack of confidence in his answer isn’t the most reassuring thing at the moment, but given that you aren’t detecting any danger either, you decide to believe that he really didn’t see any threat. At least, not here. Not right now, in the present moment, in front of him. He seems about halfway here and halfway gone, and if your growing suspicions are correct, he’s probably been sat here lost in the dark corners of his mind for a while now, given the state he’s in.
You catch movement to Astarion’s right side and watch as Karlach raises up from her prior position sprawled out face-down on her bedroll, propping herself up with her forearms beneath her. Her expression of concern is too aware and her eyes are too awake for her to have just now woken up, and you quickly gather that she’s probably been awake and laying there long enough to have heard your questions and Astarion’s lack of any verbal response. She doesn’t say anything though, and doesn’t move, just letting the situation unfold and keeping a watchful eye on the darkness behind you.
Relaxing slightly at the knowledge that someone else is awake and helping to keep watch now, your focus shifts back to Astarion, who’s gaze has moved to his lap, tears still falling fast. It’s almost unsettling, the way he cries. There’s no sound, no movement, his breathing is hardly even affected, nothing more than the occasional shaky breath to give away any sign of struggle at all. You don’t have to guess why it’s like this, given what he’s told you about his past. You’re sadly certain that he learned to cry like this ages ago. Silent and still, sat alone in the dark so no one would notice.
You don’t want to think about the sorts of punishments he’s endured as a result of showing such pain and emotion, but your mind pulls from what experiences he’s shared and offers up a few anyways, making you begin to feel sick.
Leaning down and trying to catch his gaze, you ask another question.
“Astarion, are you with me right now?”
He blinks, more tears spill, and his lips finally part as he responds to you with a strained whisper.
“I’m trying to be…”
You smile in spite of your current emotions and the general mood of the situation, doing your best to be something positive, something gentle, something safe for him to focus on.
“There you are…”
You say it to yourself as much as to him, relieved to finally hear his voice, as laced with pain as it sounds. You hold out your hand near where his lie balled into fists in his lap, offering him contact without forcing it on him.
“I want you to keep trying, okay? Do your best to come back into the present with me. You can take my hand, if you’d like?”
He stares down at your offered hand for a long moment before shakily unballing one of his fists. He hesitates, fingers trembling, before reaching out and placing his hand in yours. His skin is even colder than usual and slightly damp to the touch, and you couldn’t be less put off, or give less of a fuck about the messy state of him right now, or ever, if you’re being honest. You just want to help him, however you can.
You curl your warm fingers around his palm, wanting to pull him into a hug so badly but restraining yourself, letting him call the shots.
“You’re okay now, Star. You’re safe right now, here with me. We’re safe.”
He’s quiet for another long moment as he shuts his eyes tight, taking in your words. His other fist unfurls, and his body trembles almost imperceptibly.
“I… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
Your heart breaks.
“Honey, you have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all, I promise you.”
He shakes his head in disagreement, his voice an insistent whisper.
“I shouldn’t be doing this.”
Your shoulders drop from where they’d been tensely held up, body slumping with a silent sigh as you watch him still try to hold this wall up between the two of you. You’d made it past a number of his walls already, but this one… this one you’ve yet to be granted access behind.
“It’s okay to cry, you know?”
Another shake of his head, this time with far more force behind it, almost vehement.
“No.”
You soften your voice, insisting.
“Yes. It is. You can cry now, Astarion. No one’s gonna hurt you. No one’s gonna judge you. I swear on my life, that’s the truth.”
His breaths become more labored, uneven and shaking.
“You aren’t his anymore. The old rules don’t apply. You can let it out, now. No one, and I mean no one, is going to punish you for it.”
His eyes pinch closed and his head shakes hard side to side, like he’s fighting his own mind, and his hand opens and closes like it wants to grab onto something. He then moves, wrapping his free hand around your arm and suddenly you’re being pulled toward him, desperately, insistently.
You follow the motion as he continues to tug at you, first leaning forward and propping yourself up with your other hand on the ground as he continues to pull you closer. You quickly gather what he wants as he lets go of your hand in favor of latching onto your other arm, pulling you upward, choking back tears all the while.
You raise up on your knees and his hands move once again to hook beneath your arms as you allow yourself to be pulled up onto his lap with physical strength you keep forgetting he possesses. Hooking your legs around his waist, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into you. His arms wrap tightly around your waist and he buries his face into the fabric of your shirt at the collar, muffling the soft sound of his crying which has now turned to full-blown sobs.
He’s still shockingly quiet in spite of it all, and you imagine it’s a mixture of being unable to let go of what’s ingrained into him, and not wanting to alert the entire camp to his current breakdown.
Your thumbs stroke up and down in place on his back, not wanting to let go of your hold on him but still wanting to give him some sort of comforting motion to focus on. Besides, you figure petting across the entire expanse of his scarred back might do the opposite of calming him down, so you refrain and keep your arms wrapped firmly around him. Turning your head down toward his, you whisper to him in between soft kisses to his temple.
“That’s it, love. Let it out.”
“You’re safe now, Astarion, I swear.”
“There’s nothing wrong with this.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“You have every right to cry. No one ever should’ve taken that away from you.”
He grips you even tighter as you shower him with painfully unfamiliar affection and acceptance, comfort unlike anything he’s ever felt before in his horribly long life. His forehead presses against your right shoulder as his crying slows, trying to ground himself and catch his breath. You make a point of holding him securely against you, breathing slow and deep to give him an example to follow.
You catch movement in your periphery and glance over at Karlach as she quietly sits up and makes a series of silent lip movements and hand gestures that you don’t entirely grasp. You work them out to mean that she’s gonna take over watch for the rest of the night, and you can rest with Astarion. You send her a grateful look and mouth a “thank you,” to which she waves you off with what you think you read as a silent “don’t mention it” on her lips.
After a short while spent focused on slowing down his breath and bringing him fully out of his memories and back here with you, you whisper quiet words in his ear.
“Your work is done, Astarion. You can rest now.”
You mean it in both possible interpretations of the words, and he seems to understand that, his body finally relaxing against yours for the first time tonight.
“You wanna lie down with me, love?”
He seems like he almost nods, but stops himself, whispering back in an exhausted voice, scratchy and thick from crying.
“Someone has to keep watch.”
You hesitate to inform him that Karlach has already taken over that role for tonight, sure that he’d get no sleep at all if he knew she’d witnessed this. You know you’re gonna be awake watching over him for the rest of the night anyways, so instead, you offer a compromise.
“I can hold you and keep watch at the same time, love. Just… let me sit and you can lay against me.”
He gives the suggestion a moment of thought before nodding his head, reluctantly loosening his hold on you. You maneuver the both of you carefully so as to avoid allowing his tired eyes to catch sight of your obviously awake companion sitting behind him.
It isn’t much of a task considering his eyes are halfway closed already, his only remaining focus locked on you. You settle down at the head of his bedroll, guiding him to lie down and bringing his head to rest in the center of your lap.
Your hands take turns gently combing fingers through his white curls, and you feel his tense shoulders begin to relax at the feeling. You bring a thumb down and gently stroke over the lines creasing his brow, quietly encouraging him to release the tension he likely doesn’t realize he’s holding. You watch him pull in a deep, albeit still slightly unsteady breath, and you can practically feel the relief that washes over him when he exhales.
Words aren’t necessary between the two of you at this point, not in this moment, but you offer him a few anyways, hoping they’ll resonate in his tired mind as he slips into sleep.
“You’re safe here, Star. Rest easy.”
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A/N: Like I said in the CWs, I haven't played the game for myself (yet!) so I only know what I've seen in the hours of (mostly Astarion-focused) scenes I've watched on YT. As a result, this might have read a bit funny if I've gotten certain details wrong. For instance- I have no idea how resting at the camp actually goes, whether or not someone keeps watch all night, etc. Also I'm not sure if Astarion even needs to actually sleep or if he meditates/falls into a trance and just calls it sleep, but for the sake of simplicity, (and me being clueless,) when I say he falls into sleep just assume he's doing whatever he'd normally do to rest. On a different note- this little fic was inspired by a combination of two things. The lovely art and additional commentary on this post, by @velnna , and also by me listening to Midnight Hour by Sierra Eagleson on loop for like, an hour, and daydreaming up this specific scene before proceeding to write it out. It is a beautiful song that is now the title and theme-song for this fic, and I encourage you to go give it a listen if you haven't heard it already. Header Image Source: x
#astarion x reader#astarion#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion fic#astarion fanfic#my writing#man. this may be the quickest turnover/turnaround whateverthewordis on a fic that i've ever made happen#i usually sit on an idea and then a draft for ages before posting smthn. so given that it's only been a couple days#between the initial idea and the finished posted fic. wow. groundbreaking speeds for me#the power of hyperfixation (and love)#y'know. i've noticed a trend#why is it that nearly every time i write for a new character the first scenario i place them in involves crying#and having Reader hold/comfort them#i did it with Eddie i did it with Venti i'm doing it with Astarion. who's next. who's next in the Reverse Comfort lineup huh#idk why that's my go-to scenario it just is. maybe i do have a type. (characters that need to have a good cry in their beloved's arms)#or maybe perhaps it is i that needs the good cry and i am projecting. who knows. 'tis a mystery (it's both)#anyways i know this fic is a bit short but i just. had one little specific scene i wanted to write and that's it!#i do plan on making more for him though. i've already got another idea brewing in my brain#also sorry if 'honey' and 'love' aren't your go-to pet names. or if you wouldn't call him Star#my own style of speech heavily influences what i have Reader say in my fics and i can't help itttttt. everything i write is self-insert lma#*lmao (i’m on mobile rn i’m not retyping all of that just to add the last letter)#(yes i’m posting this from mobile cause i took a nap and overslept and missed the time i wanted to post this at. so now i am In A Rush#smthn smthn self imposed deadlines smthn smthn ‘i know the guy that made the rules and he’s a total pushover’ anyways it’s fine. post draft
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carouselunique · 26 days
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Cinch had three charges in her care once, Celestia entrusted her with the day-to-day care of Prince Blueblood, the new Princess Cadence and her student Sunset Shimmer - running a kingdom is difficult enough alone without three young ponies to look after - so when Celestia is absent (often) that means Cinch was in charge of these three ponies. And while the matron of the castle was always rigid about rules and wanted her three charges to uphold her reputation and to build their own budding reputations high, she cared about them very much. You'd have to, spending your time with the same three young ponies for so long, guiding and teaching them to be their best...
By the time Ditzy came into the picture, Cinch was down to two charges. She refused to fail them the way she failed...
Well, with one down, there were two left and she cared so much she wouldn't let anyone ruin them, especially not themselves. Surely they would come to realize Cinch was only helping.
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likegoldintheair · 4 months
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i'm torn between wanting buck and eddie to have a full-blown fight where they scream and yell and shove at each other because they just don't get it huh like they really don't get it OR wanting them to have a quiet soft conversation on the kitchen floor because they're both just tired of pretending that they don't know what this actually is OR if i want the fighting first and then the soft conversation help
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skywerse · 29 days
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I designed finch's dad!!!!
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deadpoets · 1 month
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HOUSE M.D. 05.23 | Under My Skin
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carrotkicks · 8 months
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[sends them to JAIL au]
the kids are prisoners :(
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uncanny-tranny · 9 months
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So often, twink death is framed as a bad thing. However, the "twink death" for trans men* is frankly one of the most healing things you will bear witness to (pun intended).
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wolves-in-the-world · 1 month
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the thing about eliot spencer as a character, right. the thing about him.
(and as always your mileage may vary on my analyses so if we disagree that's cool actually)
is that he is in fact a somewhat emotionally constipated idiot who is occasionally sensitive about his perceived masculinity and gets defensive about emotional intimacy around other men (largely hardison, who's much more comfortable expressing affection and embracing a softer kind of masculinity), but eliot displays enough emotional awareness and sensitivity and respect for women etc etc that anyone who's been subjected to that era of television will put on rose-tinted glasses without even looking twice.
(and he is, don't get me wrong, incredibly emotionally aware for a professionally punchy guy with enough trauma to sink the titanic. it still startles me to see.)
on top of which we have the layers and the accessories and the excellent hair with the secret braids and the way he barely has an ego and he's good with kids and protective of his team without taking it too far, and some of us never stood a fucking chance.
#eliot#eliot spencer#orig#further discussion in further tags#I'm being perhaps a little critical and there are other ways to read eg the fragile masculinity moments#but I Do think they were intended this way and largely come across this way#I'm quite happy playing with a fanon eliot who's better at this shit is the thing? it feels faithful enough to the original.#but this is something I'm chewing over in a rewatch and it's interesting so far#the fact that he pretty consistently respects women doesn't stop him from treating men and women differently y'know?#the fact that his bantering with hardison expresses affection and gets quite soft over time#doesn't stop him from pushing hardison away on a semi-regular basis. often physically.#the fact that the fandom unanimously decided he's an utter gentleman in matters of dating#doesn't quite negate the time he physically stopped aimee from getting away when he wanted to talk to her#though that's one I might disregard because it's so early and I think they hadn't quite figured out the characters then#and it was admittedly a brief moment followed by very consensual happenings#perhaps. honestly. eliot may be reflecting the attitudes of the show here.#which were very progressive for the time and are still startling on several fronts now but also showing definite signs of age#arguably fanon eliot (as I understand him) is eliot adjusted for inflation. as it were.#there's a lot going on here I'm having a normal amount of thoughts about it I'm. stopping now
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bixels · 3 months
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Do you have grown up/old version of the mane six in your 1920s au? 👀 like with Rarity having that white strand of hair etc. (Sorry my english not good 😅)
Probably won't get around to designing those. It's funny to think that these girls in their 50s would be, like, living in the 1960s. They'd be watching us land on the moon (much to Luna's distaste). With luck, the main six would survive to watch Star Wars and Back to the Future in theaters. How wacky is that?
Speaking of history, because the Great Depression never happens in this AU (I'm not too keen on throwing literally every single character into an entire decade of poverty and unemployment and starvation), that means the era of the Roaring Twenties will continue into the 30s as well. That also means World War II will be at the very least minimized (the Nazi party would probably not have the political means/climate to take power). The GG20s AU may exist on a timeline where WW2 was not a major, global war, similar to how Kiki's Delivery Service and Tintin's universes never experienced WW2.
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littlespoonevan · 6 months
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nicholas galitzine's filmography is really just like 'i refuse to be typecast unless i get to play nobility and/or kiss a man' and you know what good for him
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turtlemurmurs · 4 months
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oh my! who distorted that archivist?
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puppetmaster13u · 5 months
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Prompt 122
So, Danny might be a hint confused and perhaps slightly suspicious about this situation. Look, he didn’t exactly remember how he got in this situation, but from what he hears of the other person-turned-oversized-lizard’s panicked whispers they don’t understand how this happened either. Something something ghost probably. 
Someone had better not have made some sort of wish back home. He didn’t want to deal with Desiree’s shenanigans, even if being a dragon or whatever was pretty freaking cool…
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beanghostprincess · 6 months
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luffy actually eating the silly silly fruit and beating the shit out of kaido with the power of being a godly looney tune and the representation of freedom was something i did not expect gear 5th to be
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euphor1a · 1 year
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Jeonghan eats you out on his desk
thirst drabbles (9/∞)
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fandom » svt
pairing » jeonghan x f!reader
rating » 18+ (minors dni!)
genre » smut, workplace au, boss au
word count » ~ 1710
warnings » profanity, dom/sub undertones, office sex, dirty talk, sir kink, brief breast play, jeonghan is a biter, fingering, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, long haired jeonghan (... yeah 🥴), hair pulling, lmk if i missed anything!
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The dim and warm night lights of his office bounce off the bare skin of your body, illuminating you in a glow that makes Jeonghan dazed. You pant against his firm chest, all your clothes scattered around the office, blindly thrown off by the gorgeous man who rubs your clit over your panties. The soft cotton has soaked through, providing lubrication between the material and your sensitive areas. 
This certainly isn’t what you expected when you were notified to join your boss for an overnight shift to sort out some problems right before clocking out. Even for Jeonghan — he has no idea how it got this far, but it happened, and he has no intention of stopping now. 
It’s not like he has had a silly little crush on you since forever. And he has definitely never ever daydreamed about things he should not be fantasizing with a junior employee. Thankfully though, none of that matters now. You’re all bare and vulnerable in his arms, shaking and whimpering, entirely under his mercy. 
Jeonghan pushes you further back on the smooth mahogany desk, his searching honey browns finally meeting you. However, your immediate response is to lower your eyes, avoiding the gaze that’s intense enough to eat you up. As if for revenge, he removes the hand from your aching core, depriving you of the stimulation. You whine weakly, looking back up to see why he stopped. 
A knowing smirk adorns his cherry lips, his eyes tingling with lust and fondness. “Awh, you didn’t like that one bit, huh?” Jeonghan teases, holding your jaw so you can’t look away. Unable to dodge his question, you nod, still very shy. Even though you are in a state like this — he is still your boss. 
“Use your words, angel.” He leans down a bit, those long, raven strands of his hair creating a sheer curtain over some parts of his face. You gulp, failing to look away from the enticing sight. How can a human be so good looking?
“C’mon now, baby, put that pretty mouth of yours to use.” Jeonghan tuts, eyes squinting in disapproval. That makes your stomach jump, and you blurt out a very unsure ‘please.’ 
“Please what?” His smooth chuckle fills up the silent room and you swear your heart skips a beat. You’ve never heard him laugh before. But the sound of it is so effortlessly attractive, you can’t help your own lips curling upwards. He pauses for a split second, a hum reverberating in his throat. “Are you embarrassed? Don’t be, baby. I already got you leaking and all needy, there’s no point of shying away now, yeah?” 
Heat rushes your cheeks, because he isn’t lying at all. “Um, Sir—” you begin, struggling to find the right words. Jeonghan wonders if he should ask you to call him by his name, but realizes that the ‘Sir’ is a bigger turn on than he expected. He rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt a bit more, loosening the tie from around his neck. You know he’s testing your sanity, but he just looks so fucking hot doing it. 
“Mhm, go on, angel.” 
“Please touch me. Please. It hurts.” 
Excitement bubbles up in his chest. But he hides it masterfully, scrunching up his face in pity. “Oh no, does it? I’m so sorry to hear that, angel.” Jeonghan lets his right hand stroke along your inner thigh, making you shudder. “Where does it hurt? Lemme make you feel better.” 
You consider saying it out loud, but you discard that option almost immediately. So instead, you gently grab on the hand stroking your thigh and place it to cup your clothed pussy. “Fuck,” Jeonghan hisses at the feeling, applying a bit pressure on your cunt, coaxing a moan out of you.
“You’re driving me crazy, baby. And it’s worse because you seem like you don’t know it.” Your boss rasps, pushing you down until your back hits the hardwood. You prop up using your elbows, gasping when he grips the back of your head and finds your lips for a kiss. His other hand slips past the waistband of your underwear, coming in contact with your moist warmth that drips for his attention. 
Jeonghan groans in the kiss, slipping his tongue inside your mouth without much resistance from your side. You almost feel like you’re melting, his fingers steadily rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves and getting slathered up in your juices. His tongue is dominant against yours, swirling and slurping, sensitizing you further. 
You arch your back, your neglected, erect nipples pressing into his chest. Jeonghan moves the hand from the back of your head, immediately grasping the soft flesh and making you cry out. You pull away from the mind-numbing kiss to catch your breath, eyes a bit teary from all the sensations you feel. 
He leans down to touch your foreheads together, his hot breath fanning over your face and his nose nuzzling into yours. Jeonghan has noticed how sensitive and responsive you are to his actions, and it makes his heart swell. As if he isn’t fond of you enough already.
You whimper when he pinches your stiffened nipple between his thumb and index, his lips peppering butterfly kisses on your nose and cheeks. “Am I making you feel good, hm?” Jeonghan catches your earlobe between his teeth, gnawing at it. You nod desperately, gasping when he slips his middle finger into your sopping core. 
“Answer me, baby.” Your boss trails wet kisses down your neck, biting down where it meets your shoulders. A strangled moan escapes you, your body buzzing with pleasure. 
“Ugh, y-yes, Sir,” You stutter as he wraps his lips around your nipple, his teeth and tongue working wonders together. Jeonghan wishes he could consume you entirely. He leaves bites all over your breasts, his growing bulge pressing into your thigh. 
He pulls you in for a messy kiss, another finger entering your cunt. Your cries of pleasure get muffled in his mouth as he increases his speed significantly, loud squelching sounds filling up the office. “Can you hear that, angel? You are so wet for me, swallowing my fingers greedily and squeezing them like a lewd girl.” 
You clench at his words, ecstasy building up very rapidly with his fast pumps. It makes you lose the ability to think properly. The way he’s constantly hitting the spots that make you mushy, the way he curls his fingers inside your molten warmth, it’s too much. You are so, so close to— 
Jeonghan stops moving his digits, immediately dropping to his knees in front of you. Denied from the obvious upcoming release, your body jolts up, a few tears escaping your eyes. You whine, watching your boss tugging down your absolutely ruined panties. 
“Shh, don’t cry, I promise I’m gonna make it up to you.” He tosses away the piece of clothing, finally taking a look at your pussy. “Good. Fucking. Lord,” Jeonghan mutters at the sight, his cock twitching in the confines of his boxers. He has reduced you to an utter mess — clit all swollen; all of your pussy covered with the warm, slippery slick that leaks out of your hole. 
Jeonghan licks his lips instinctively, placing both of your legs on his shoulders before leaning in to press a fleeting kiss on your mound. You cover your mouth with your hand, the extreme ache for some sort of stimulation blinding you. On the other hand, he attacks your inner thigh with bites, trying his best to control himself despite the dizzying scent of your arousal that calls for him. 
“Please,” you beg, eyes watering once again, “Sir, I can’t.” Jeonghan looks up from between your legs, his hot breath puffing against your aching cunt. 
“Don’t hide your face. I wanna see and hear you as you fall apart and gush in my mouth.” You remove your hand immediately, gripping on the side of the desk instead. Satisfied, he locks his lips with your nether ones, suckling on them soundly. His tongue strokes your clit and runs along your slit, your body visibly shaking from relief. A grunt rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, fuck— you taste s’good.” 
Jeonghan watches you keenly, the way you twitch and moan, and the way you grip on the desk for dear life. On a whim, he takes your right hand and urges you to grip onto his luscious locks instead. You’re taken aback, but comply anyway, threading your fingers through his hair. 
A sudden bite on your clit has you screaming, your fingers tightening and tugging on his hair. Jeonghan growls, and you know that he’s satisfied by the way his lips curl upwards around your pussy. You’re shaking, losing your mind at how good he’s eating you out. Desperate for a release, you wound your other hand in his hair as well, rocking your hips against his face. 
Jeonghan slips his tongue inside your cunt as if on approval, his teeth dragging along the raw flesh of your core. His thumb finds your aching clit, rubbing it in tight ‘eight’s, a string of incoherent words leaving you. You pull onto his hair, feeling like you’re going to melt. He can tell that you’re close, the denied orgasm that left you overly sensitive amplifying all the sensations. 
Several tears fall from your eyes, body tensing up as the coil inside your lower stomach snaps finally. You scream out his name, gripping onto his hair for dear life, body convulsing with waves of ecstasy. Jeonghan moans at the taste of your sweet release on his tongue, your gummy walls clamping down onto the flexible muscle. 
Your body gives up as you lay down on the table, breathing uneven and body shuddering from the aftermath. Jeonghan takes his sweet time slurping up all the precious juices you’ve given him to devour. You lose all your thoughts for several moments, floating through the euphoria. 
The sound of his belt buckle brings you back from the seventh heaven. You open your eyes, immediately blessed with the view of your boss’s toned chest and stomach. Feeling your gaze on him, Jeonghan unzips and pulls down his pants, a coy smile on his lips. 
“You didn’t think that we’re done here, did you?” 
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˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 author’s notes ꒱
thank you so much for reading <33!! i hope you enjoyed it hehe 🫣! i certainly enjoyed writing it... 🤒; actually i was a mess but hey i made it through saur anyway 🧍🏽‍♀️ apologies for any mistakes left in there!
consider leaving a reblog or a comment to let me know what you think of this!! feedback through asks will be appreciated too! support your local writers, it keeps us motivated to create and share 🌸!
this was requested by @baljinciaga a while back when i opened up my requests! thank you for the request fren, i hope i could deliver what you asked for~~ “I've been on jeonghan kick lately and this man had the audacity to chop his hair off before I became a fan skdrffyrhfht. Do you think you could do a drabble where he has long hair and you grip it while he's eating you out 😚”!
requests are back to being closed now!
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