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#(see also: do the butts match (which is not me))
ghostieyanyan · 5 months
Note
I like to stir up some drama for the Yandere twst boys 😈 I always would like to think that what if a few of the boys fell for MC but they turned them down because they already have a lover back in their world. Or their old lover is dead and MC would never love again since they’re still grieving. I would like to see the boys reactions, especially the more jealous and dangerous ones like Floyd, Jamil, Malleus or even Ace
oohhh yess the drama~ we gotta love some good dangerous jealous boys. i bet theyll get mad and they might do something... awful.
~Mc with lover at home/dead~
Yan!Floyd x mc
Yan!Jamil x mc
Yan!Malleus x mc
Yan!Ace x mc
Warnings: drowning, kidnapping, threats, game of cat and mouse?, stalking, blood, broken mirror
~~~~~
Floyd
Floyd doesnt like a lot of things... he doesnt like it when things dont go his way.. especially if that thing makes him work his butt off. a thing like... you.
From the day you caught his eye, it was when you stood up to azul to protect baby seal, crabby, and little mackerel. For one, a magicless human demanding something of azul was laughable, hilarious even. Plus how persistence you were, which was also a great charm he liked, when your little group, plus sea urchin, had get that photo azul requested. even when you knew you didnt have a chance to pass 2 mermen eels, you still got the photo and tricked azul and destroying all his contacts?! you were tough and he loved it.
after that, he tried to get to know you better any chance he got!!
theres a basket ball game and he wants you to come? he will annoy crabby and sea snake, with his poor performance, saying "if shrimpy isnt going, whats the point..?" he does it so much that the entire team goes to the ramshackle dorm, begging you to come to the game. floyd played great and won the match.
if there was a group assignment in class? Floyd will throw a fit and threaten anyone that even looks at you to be their partner. to the point, where the teachers just have to comply to his demands.
if you and your group of first years come to the Louge, he'll shove everyone off to lay on your lap. isnt he a cute eel?
After a while of this, floyd finally decided to ask you out (from Azul and Jade's suggestion because they were getting tired of complains about floyd's behavior).
He asked if you could come with him, outside of NRC. He wanted to show you something. He brought you to the beach shore. the sun was setting and it shine beautifully on the surface of the water. you thanked him for the pretty view, it almost made up for everything he's been putting you through recently.
when you turned to Floyd, he got on one knee and asked... he had a ring! it was a pretty pearl ring that he got himself. he had to go through a lot of clams to find the "perfect one for shimpy"
you were, of course, startled. but you explained to him that you had someone at home and you bet they missed you a lot. you tried to laugh the awkwardness away but before you could apologized again. floyd stood up and pulled out a potion vile? he quickly gulped it down and grabbed you, shoving you into the ocean with him!
when you opened your eyes, you were underwater and he was in his mermen form. he pulls you into a hug, a tight one. you thought it was sweet at first until..- you needed air! you tried to struggle against him and tapping him repeatedly, in a way to say "i to go up for air!" but he just wouldnt move.
"no."
"...?!?!"
"you arent going to that home. your new home... is with me, shrimpy~ we'll make a new home here~"
you tried to struggle more but it was pointless, you were losing air and it hurts. your lungs burned and his grip on you, his claws were digging into your flesh! you tried to dig your fingers into his sides but it was pointless.
you let out a finally gasp before falling limp into Floyd's arms.
~
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~~~~~
Jamil
Jamil doesnt really get attached to people a lot. everyone always wanted the "great an amazing Kalim," leaving him on the side lines. it hurt a lot at first but now he's just came to expect it...
Even in NRC, kalim still gets the spot light and jamil gets kicked to the side lines.
Kalim wanted to throw a party in the middle of the school week and jamil was in the kitchen. he was studying for an exam coming up and he needs to be "close" if anything were to happen. Meanwhile, kalim was in the main lounge partying with everyone... we know hes not gonna pass...
while Jamil was trying to study... you step in. you both stared at each other for a second... then you asked if you could get a cup of water? Jamil sighs and stood up to get you a glass..
"why are you here..? shouldn't you be.. partying too..?"
"im just refreshing on the material for the exam.."
Jamil hands you the cup and walks back to his spot on the kitchen table. you meekly followed him. on the table there were textbooks, notebooks, and different types of pens and pencils. you looked at his noted and you noticed how neat they were! some words were under-lined and bolded, some had highlights to help catch the eye. jamil noticed your stare and looks up at you.
"is there anything else i could help you with..?"
"o-oh! sorry, i just... your notes look really nice.."
you awkwardly sipped your cup. Jamil rolled his eyes and got back to his notes.
"ya.. its for kalim, whenever hes done partying, hell look at my notes right before the exam and fails the exam anyways.."
he dropped his pen on the table and rubbed his face, sighing heavily.
"haha! that's what ace, deuce, and grim do! out of the 4 of us, i write the notes! deuce tries to, ace doesn't bother, and grim.. sleeps. and with our study sesh, its not like it helps much. as an 'other worlder' i have better grades then they do combined! haha"
jamil stares at you as you laughed and he cracks a smile. its been a while since someone's situation was similar to his.
"hey... do you need any help with the up coming exam..?"
he's voice stammered while saying that... why? you looked at him and smiled. you both spend the rest of the night studying together. this was only the beginning.
now whenever you're alone, jamil will come by to give a helping hand. grim ate all your food? here, he accidentally made extras. do you need help with homework? meet him in the court yard, he'll help. the more he helped, the more his feelings for you grew, he only wished the feelings were mutual.
but the dreaded day came.. you had to return home. he chose that night to finally confess his feelings for you, hoping you'll throw away this vision on returning home and just come home with him.
when you told him that you had a past-lover that died and that you'll never love anyone again. he just snapped.
...!
with blood mix with mirror shards in his hand, he used snake whisper on you and brought you... home. good thing he did this after you said good bye to everyone.
~
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Malleus
to say malleus had an eye for the perfect is an understatement. from the day he met them, to the silly nickname they gave him, he had fallen hard.
he had to ask lilia for advice on how to charm the perfect. if flowers were too much for after knowing them for a week..? is his gifts in the night too much?
he just had to leave the gifts in your room because you were either not home or sleeping and he didn't want to disturb you. you liked so peaceful when you slept...
he wanted so badly to make you his then and there but he wanted the moment to be special for both of you. for him, he'll get someone who loves him and charish him. as much as he does you. For you, getting a loving dragon fae husband and becoming a queen of the briar valley. youre guarantee a great life with him! you wouldnt have to be hungry or buying the cheapies things that sam could offer. you will eat and sleep and care for like you are royalty because you will be royalty and be viewed with the highs respect, like malleus.
lilia had warned him to not rush this process. humans can be delikit creatures and some can get startled easiely. Sadly malleus didnt heed his warning and malleus choose to confess to you!
He choose a beautiful forest openning. he had a picnic set up with your favorites and he planned it so that you and malleus would watch the sunset and be out there to watch the stars. it would have been perfect... if it wasn't for you different views.
"oh! im really sorry, hornton.. um.. im actually taken! theyre back in my world but i bet theyre problay worried sicked about now. hehe.."
malleus was still... very still. in that moment, he didnt see red like he thought he would... everything just got dark for him. he wanted so badly to just disappeared and leave you there to be lost in the forest.. but he loved you too much for that. even when you ripped out his heart. the nerve you have to act like this to The malleus draconia...
he walked you home that night.. and told lilia what happened.
"oh dear... im sorry malleus. i didnt know someone has already stolen their heart."
lilia was flying over malleus's head, patting it. the head pats werent helping. the only head pats that will sooth him would be from his child of man, apologizing for their silly joke and saying its just a silly human tradition for courting...
"but... if perfect were to be persweaed into staying in twisted wonderland~ their world would... be nothing but a dream, right~?"
Malleus later asked you to stop by his dorm. he wanted to talk about that night. which you were happy for, you got worried when he didnt come to your dorm at his usial time..
when you got there, it was early quiet... no one in sight. you knew your way around so it wasnt a problem but every fiber in your body was screaming for you to go.
When you got to malleus room. he was at his desk writing something.
"Child of man... i have put some thought on what you said on our outing and ive decided to forgive you."
he stood up and walked over you. it never scared you before but him being so close and how its dark in his room, plus his glowing green eyes, didnt calm your nervse.
"ive decided to show you how prefect we are together... youll love the life i can give you in briar valley~"
in your panick, you pushed him away and made a ran for it to the doors. the last thing you heard made your blood run cold.
"Lilia, silver, Sebek.... after them."
"khee hee~ /Yes, sir. /Yes sir!"
~
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~~~~~
Ace
Ace is a lot of things! Mean, sneaky, and a liar! He likes to tease you a lot. sometimes it fine cause "youre with your friends and hes just teasing everyone" but sometimes hes comments to you feel too... personal..
"haha! perfect, bet no one is looking for you back home! i mean why would they? youre problay useless there as like here."
you grew quiet as your other friends come to your defence from ace's comment.
"well.. jokes on you ace. i do have someone waiting for me back at home! they are sweet and i know for a fact that they are worried sick about me right now! so HA!"
your other friends started to ask questions about your world and this mysterious person that stole your heart. which you were happy to answer their question.
sadly, you didnt notice a sad looking red head as he thought about you returning to this person...
during his afternoon club activities, ace was so out of it, he had to be benched for most the the games...
"aww~ did shrimpy leave crabby high and dry~? hehe~"
"stop teasing him floyd. but really ace.. whats going on? your game play sucks today."
"jamil.. i-"
"hehe~ its because crabby found out that when shrimpy leaves, theyre not gonna think about him at all any more. youll be washed up on the shore, stuck on your back, and shrimpy wont be there to help."
with every word floyd said, he got closer to ace. really digging deep that ace is losing you. in ace's fustrastion, he pushed the two guys away, grabbed his stuff, and headed out..
~
time had past and crowley (finally) gave you the mirror to return home! you were going around each and every dorm to give them gifts and saying your good byes.. but when you were in Heartlabyul, ace wasnt there..? Deuce explained that he problay when out but he'll make sure he'll stop by your dorm to say his good byes..
he didnt come by... and you had to leave without saying good bye to him..
~
it took a long while to get used to everything back in your world and explaining twisted wonderland to your parnter could have gone better. (they were on the fence to bring you to a pysc wraned..). your partner left to get you some of your favorite food that you missed since coming back.
you walked to the mirror that you came from and stared at your reflection.. will your first years be okay without you..? will grim be okay..? you closed your eyes to think on all your adventures, you heard a very familiar sound...
you looked at the mirror and you watched as the mirror ribbles... and then... ace appears.
"hehe~ its been a while, hasnt it? sorry i didnt get to see you when you visited. it just took me a while to make sure your new home.. is ready."
before you could step back, his hands reached for you, grabbing your shirt and pulling you into the mirror.
"i got a nice place for both of us. its a bit far from campus, but for you its worth it~ also~ you problay shouldnt run... or ill make sure you wont have anyone to return to here.."
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unholybacon355 · 3 months
Text
All Mine
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Momo x Reader
Words Count: 1.7k
A/N: I just wanted to write this to get rid of the idea. And also yes, I should be writing other things like the chapter of the stories i still didn't update. But here I'm, writing obscenities.
As always, I hope you have fun reading this.
You were sure that you were the luckiest person in the world, there couldn't be anyone luckier. Right in front of you you had your girlfriend with her chest pressed against the bed, her back arched at an angle that only someone with her flexibility could reach; and her ass up. Her knees were well planted on the mattress, wide apart from each other. Which was why her plump buttocks parted naturally as well, letting you clearly see her sodden vagina and her tight rear entrance. The full sight of having Momo in that position was a wonder, a delight you dare say.
"Are you going to fuck my ass, or am I going to have to go out and find someone else who does?" Momo moved her butt impatiently from side to side trying to get your attention.
"You'd love that, right?" You gave her a spank that resounded throughout the room. Despite having a very athletic body and well-toned musculature, her butt was still very soft, so the hit made her buttock tremble as if it were made of jelly. A delicious peach flavored jelly. "You'd like to go hunting and fuck as many people as you can."
"Yeah." Momo replied with a mischievous smile on his lips. "But it's still more fun when you fuck me."
“I love so much that you are a hopeless slut.” You leaned in to put your face inches from your girlfriend's crotch, from where you could smell the delicious scent of her holes. You two had been fucking for a while now, and even though she had come a couple of times, you knew that when she was in the mood for anal it wasn't over until you filled her ass. The very thought of fucking that wonderful tight asshole again was enough to make your cock throb, and when you were in front of Momo it seemed to have a life of its own.
You spread her cheeks with both hands for better access before taking a long lick from her clit, past her soaking vagina, to the puckered opening of her ass. The taste of her juices was quite a delight, nothing that even the best dessert in the world could match. You could spend hours eating her pussy, to the point that your girlfriend came so many times that she ended up with cramped legs due to spasms. But now the cavity that interested you was not that.
Your tongue swirled around her anus, licking and salivating as much as you could. Savoring even the most remote confines of her, as if you hadn't eaten for a week. If you loved the taste of her vagina, then you had to invent a new word for what you felt for the taste of her ass. It was without a doubt your favorite, and Momo loved how obsessed you were with it.
Now the tip of your tongue was entering her anus, doing all the work to dilate it as much as possible. You could hear loud moans from her, indicating that you were doing a wonderful job. But unfortunately you were aware that your saliva was not enough to lubricate such a perfect ass, if you did not want to hurt your girlfriend you had to use real lubricant. Which is why you reluctantly parted from her anus and grabbed the bottle of lube you had next to you. Then you let a thick stream fall on Momo's anus.
"Be careful, it's cold." She complained when the viscous liquid touched her skin. Without giving importance to her words, you began to spread the lubricant where you had been leaving your saliva before. Using your middle and ring fingers you made sure to drench and massage her anus, drawing circles over her wrinkled entrance. When you decided that your care, added to what your tongue did before, was enough, you put both fingers inside it. The sudden intrusion made Momo moan in surprise, and in the wave of pleasure that ran through her body.
Knowing that she could take it perfectly, you began to put your fingers in and out, fucking her ass at a steady pace. For her part, she let herself be loved and only her moans told you that you were doing well, that she was enjoying it a lot. You even dared to separate your digits a bit, wanting to maximize the pleasure she felt and dilating her entrance even more.
"I love having your fingers inside me, but that's not what I want right now." Your impatient girlfriend said between moans, urging you to fuck her in a different way.
"Always so impatient my love." You took out your fingers out making a fart noise when all that was left inside was the lube you left behind. You took a few seconds to watch her anus slowly close in the absence of your fingers, before positioning yourself to penetrate her. "Spread those buttocks for me."
"If I do, are you going to hurry?" Despite always bothering you, you know that her impatience is due to the fact that she loves you very much, and of course you couldn't love her less than she loves you. How else could you have done so many dirty things together?
You watch in delight as she uses both hands to spread her cheeks apart, causing her anus and vagina to open up a bit in a rather obscene way. Knowing that this is your cue, you smear some lube on your cock and rub the tip against her anus. The touch is so pleasant that you have to force yourself not to cum before even penetrating her. But after having spent so much time fucking the truth is that you were already close to your limit.
Using pressure you work your way into her anal cavity slowly, stretching her walls an inch at a time. You feel as though you had lubricated it well, the pressure on your penis is overwhelming, you moan yourself as you enter it. “I love fucking your ass so much.”
"I know, I'm irresistible." You were going to laugh at your girlfriend's words, but just at that moment she squeezes her anus to maximize the pleasure of both of you. You let the air out of your lungs in a loud moan, causing Momo to laugh. “Are you about to cum yet?”
You spank her again before responding. "You know yes." You begin to move slowly, fucking her ass at a pace that was obviously not enough for both of you. “I never last too long fucking you from behind”
Momo lets go of one of her buttocks and uses his right hand to rub her clit as she slowly picks up the pace of your thrusts. I know, it's my ass you fill when you cum.” So knowing what she's doing she's squeezing and releasing her anus with a random rhythm that drives you crazy. You can hear her laugh as you speed up the pace with which you fuck her in revenge for the wonderful things she was doing with her body.
Now all that can be heard in the room is the slapping of your hips against her ass, and the moans from both of you. Sweat soaks your forehead, and you can see how also covers your girlfriend's back with a thin layer. That well-toned back that you loved to kiss and massage, but now was not the time to think about those things. It was time to focus on other things just as loving, like fucking your girlfriend's ass as fast as possible.
Her anus was swallowing your cock completely and then you would pull it out until you almost withdrew from it, to put it back all the way to the base. And despite clenching and releasing her ass muscle she never stopped massaging her clit. Even now she had inserted two of her fingers and was fucking herself trying to match the pace of your thrusts.
"Babe... I'm close." You heard her say it in the most loving way she could, which made it all the obscene. "Fill my ass with your hot milk please."
"Is that what my bitch wants?"
“Yesssss… Please cum inside my ass.”
"Your wishes are orders my Queen." After those words you increase the pace of your thrusts to the point where your hips ached, but that didn't matter when it came to pleasuring your beloved. You knew she was close, and certainly you were about to cum too. You weren't going to last much longer and you both were aware of that.
Already with erratic thrusts, while she continued using her fingers to fuck her vagina, you continued penetrating her ass. But you knew that this was already your limit. With one last strong thrust you left your cock inside Momo and came inside her tight ass. You held on to her hips to keep from falling as the orgasm clouded your vision and sent spasms through your entire body. Between your moans you could hear how she was also enjoying her own orgasm, and you could also feel it because her anus was tighter than ever. Smothering your cock as her juices trickled down her thighs.
When all your milk had spilled inside your beloved's rectum, you carefully withdrew. Her anus took a few seconds to close completely, during which time some of your semen squirted out.
Then they both collapsed on the bed, covered in sweat and gasping for breath. Thus, all tired and sticky, you hugged her from behind and covered her shoulders with kisses.
"That was incredible. My last orgasm was the strongest of all.”
"I know, you almost squeezed my dick."
"Exaggerated." Between giggles Momo rubs her butt against your now flaccid penis, just to annoy you.
"Do you want me to clean your ass?" You ask her while you continue kissing her shoulders. She interweaves her fingers with yours before responding.
"No, thanks. I love how feels your semen inside me." She lifts your hand to kiss it before placing it back on her lap. "We better go to sleep."
"Honey, it's three in the afternoon."
"Do you have something better to do?" You burst out laughing at her question, and before you know it you snuggle up to her and settle in for a nap you certainly needed to pull yourself together. God, how you love this woman.
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viennakarma · 8 months
Text
After you
Fernando Alonso x reader
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Summary: There's a life before becoming Fernando's sugar baby and there's a life after becoming his sugar baby.
Word count: 2.7k
Tags: Smut, female reader, +18, sex (p in v), unprotected sex, established relationship, sugar baby x sugar daddy, Dom!Nando, little breath play (choking), spanking, face slap, a bit of dirty talking, degradation, overuse of pet names (bc it's spanish duh!), big age gap (reader is early 20s, in college), everything implicitly consensual, not beta read
Note: i'd like to start by saying you nando fuckers were right and these 3 fernando media (see above) changed my life forever, thank you. gentle reminder that english is not my first language (so please bear any mistake), I'm also considering taking requests for F1 drabbles and oneshots, would anyone be interested?
Find me on Twitter!
As soon as you enter the flat, you take off your overcoat and leave it behind the door. You go to your room, but you stop when you see several gift boxes laying on the floor beside the bed, which you recognize the brands, Tiffany, La Perla, Chanel, among others. But you feel exhausted from college finals and you leave the boxes behind and head straight for the bathroom.
Eight months ago, when you lived in a tiny dorm on campus, working two shifts beyond university to pay for your studies, all these brands used to be a distant luxury you would never afford on your own.
But there was a life before becoming Fernando Alonso's sugar baby; and another one after all that.
Now you have a nice, comfortable, luxurious apartment close to campus, your university is fully paid for months in advance, and you don't have to use the dorm's communal bathroom. It sometimes feels like a dream and you think you're going to wake up back in that moment much earlier.
You fill the bathtub and take off your clothes, looking in the mirror, you see two hickey marks near your breasts. Fernando was mindful not to leave marks in visible places. You step into the tub and allow yourself to be enveloped by the scented salts and bubble soap. You rub yourself slowly, pushing away all the tiredness and stress of the entire day, using the shower gel that Fernando liked on you.
After scrubbing yourself down, you step out of the shower wrapped in a fluffy robe. You dry your hair with the dryer, and head back to the bedroom.
On top of the gifts there is a note that you missed before.
“To my girl, I know you worked really hard to do well on your finals. Enjoy your gifts. See you tonight, cariño. - Fernando"
You open Tiffany’s blue box first, it's the smallest one. Contains a pair of star-shaped diamond earrings, and a silver necklace with a matching pendant. You smile when you realize that it's been eight months and he already knows your taste for clothes and accessories. The second box you open is a Coco de Mer, a lingerie brand. With two pairs of lingerie inside, both in lace, one black, with stockings and garter belt and the other red, transparent with ribbons that cross the abdomen.
Getting out of bed, you pull on the black one, adjust the stocking on the garter belt and hang the robe in the bathroom again, staring at your reflection in the mirror, barely registering the messy young misfit you were just months ago.
The other boxes mostly contain clothes and accessories. Pants, skirts, dresses, handbags, wallets and backpacks. After taking a look at everything, you take the pieces to the closet and leave them on the chair to arrange later.
Then you hear the sound of the front door opening and you know it's Fernando. You lay down on the bed and wait for him. Lying on your stomach with your butt in the air, you look at Fernando when he enters. He's not wearing his team shirt, he's just wearing a white shirt and denim pants. He stares at your body, but your eyes settle on a box in his hand, he puts the box, his phone and wallet on the bedside table. He smiles, moving closer and bending over to leave a gentle bite on your ass. His masculine scent envelops you and you feel the urge to rip his clothes off and push him on the bed, and ride his cock until the sun comes up tomorrow.
“Hi, bebé,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your temple, “How were the exams?” he asks as he sits on the king size bed, his back against the headboard. He pats his own thigh, and you quickly crawl up, onto his lap sitting facing him. You hope he feels your underwear wet with anticipation.
“Thermodynamics was easy, but Quantum Physics, not so much,” you say, as he opens the box that you know as one of Belgian chocolates, your favorite.
“You’ve studied so hard for both, so I think you'll do well,” he says, pulling out a chocolate with almonds from the box. With his other hand, he grips your hip.
He brings the chocolate up to your mouth and you take a bite, wiggling in his lap as the chocolate melts in your mouth.
“You did so well on your test last week,” he compliments, and his gentle tone turns you on even more. You feel his fingers making way inside the lace of your panties and you hold on to his shoulders, keeping your balance and granting more access to you.
He takes another chocolate from the box and takes a bite of it as his fingers find your pussy. Fernando rubs his index and middle fingers, spreading your wetness. You melt into his arms and place your hand on the back of his neck. He gives you the second piece of chocolate at the same time as his fingers penetrate you. You're so wet, his fingers slide easily inside, massaging your pussy calmly, oh so calmly that you roll your hips into his fingers, trying to make him go faster.
“Quiet, princesa,” he commands, and you stop the hip movement. He shoves the fingers that were holding the chocolate into your mouth, and you suck hard until his fingers are clean.
His other hand, the one inside your panties, you feel keeping the maddening slow pace, completely ignoring the need for relief in your clit. You slide a hand down your belly to bring it to your clit, but he takes your hand away and cups your chin, a possessive look in his brown-almost-green eyes.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?" he asks brusquely, and you just stare at him. “Eh? Did I?”
“No,” you reply huskily, knowing he can feel you getting even wetter at his firm tone. He slaps your cheek, and your pussy throbs around his fingers, you can see in his eyes that he feels it. And he absolutely loves it.
“No, what?” he says, a smug smirk on his face.
“No, sir.” you say and he strokes the cheek he slapped. Fernando takes your chin and pulls your lips to his. He kisses you obscenely, with lips and tongue and his face inching up against yours.
“I know your week has been pretty stressful, then behave yourself so you can get your reward, okay?” he says in a gentle tone, finally picking up the speed of his fingers and pushing the palm of his hand against your swollen clit. You whimper, holding a moan in your throat and the urge to move your hips to keep pace with him and come faster, but you hold back.
Then Fernando's phone rings, interrupting the two of you. He lets the phone ring, and you groan when his other hand grips your hip tightly, squeezing your ass. The phone stops ringing, but then it rings again.
“No, Nando, please… Don't answer it, Papi” you whimper, already feeling his fingers stop stimulating you. He grabs your hips and places you to the side, back on the bed.
“So needy, bebé,” he mutters, biting softly on your chin before getting up, “I need to pick this call, babygirl. Won’t be long, yeah?” He grumbles, taking the phone from the nightstand. you watch as Fernando answers, muttering “Alonso speaking,” as he leaves the room.
Frustrated, you lie back on the mattress and stare at the ceiling, knowing he's probably going to take longer than he said he would. He always took long calls about his team, or his car, or whatever. It's almost involuntary as your hands slide down your abdomen and you rub your thighs together to get some friction. With your hands, you gently pinch your nipples through the lace of your bra, feeling a hypersensitive moan escape your lips. You slide your hands and press your clit over the wet panties, just looking for some relief while he doesn’t come back.
The need for release is stronger than you are as you slide your hand inside your panties, circling your clit with pressure, gasping.
At that moment, Fernando re-enters the room, and you quickly remove your hand. But the furious look on his face tells you he already caught you red handed. Heart racing, you watch as he clicks his tongue in a reproving gesture. He walks into the closet and returns with a pair of leather cuffs.
“I thought I made myself clear…” he murmurs, yanking hard on your wrists to get you to your feet, “You only touch yourself with my permission.”
You swallow hard when he cups your face and then slaps you across the face. You bite your bottom lip, smiling. He takes your wrists and secures them with the restraints, behind your back. Fernando slaps you again, and you feel the wetness pool in your panties.
“You love it, don't you?” He smirked with another slap. “Being treated like the slut you are. My slut. Knees on the floor,” he commands, his tone doesn't leave space for anything other than obedience.
His firm touch on the back of your neck compels you down until your knees meet the floor. You feel your mouth water as he starts struggling with his own belt, undoing the buttons on his pants just enough to pull his cock out. You immediately wet your lips and open your mouth, expecting to feel him on your tongue.
He shoves his cock into your mouth all at once, almost reaching your throat, and you have to control your gagging, eyes immediately watering.
“Open wide, babygirl” he gasps, taking control of slowly sliding into your mouth. He massages your face, as if to relax your jaw further. “Yes, just like that” he moans softly as he touches your throat.
He holds your head, keeping you still as the only movement is in  his hips, his cock fucking your mouth. As you adjust to the volume of him moving in and out of your mouth, he picks up speed and you feel saliva wetting his entire length and running down the side of your mouth, dripping to your chin.
“Want me to fuck you, huh?” he asks but doesn't release you from his cock so you're able to answer. “Want to cum, bebé?”
He doesn’t let you go, nor does he take his cock out of your mouth. So you just hum around him, the vibration of your voice making him let out a groan.
“I don't know…” He pretends to think a little, his hips stuttering. “You disobeyed me, didn't you? I don't think you've earned your reward yet.”
He pulls his cock away from your mouth, and you watch a trail of saliva break from the distance. You close your mouth, taking the opportunity to relax your jaw.
“¿Cuál es tu color? (what's your color?)” he asks, his voice going immediately tender, looking down on you.
“Verde. (green)”
“Up you go” Fernando points to the bed as he removes the belt from the cases of his pants, and you quickly get to your feet and throw yourself face down on the mattress, your arms still pinned behind you. “On all fours” He commands and you obey, the top of your head pressed into the pillow and your ass in the air.
You feel his fingers gently rub up and down on your hips, and then he finally removes your panties. Not an instant later, you feel the belt snap on your ass, stinging.
“What did you do wrong, princesa?” he asks, then hits you with the belt once again, making you shiver.
“I touched myrself without-” you cut yourself off with a mewl when you feel the crackle of the burning leather belt again, “-Without your-” Two consecutive hits make you whimper against the pillow, but you keep going, because you know that if you stop, he will start your punishment again, “-Without your permission" you complete, panting loudly. He hits you three more times and you feel like you could come with just one touch on your clit.
“Without your permission, who?” And two more cracks of the leather against your asscheeks. The frustration of wanting to come is so great that you feel your abdomen trembling.
“Without your permission, sir!” you almost scream, desperate. So thirsty for his touch you know you’re dripping with desire and ruining the sheets.
“I don't know…” He says, as if he's thinking out loud as his hands caress your buttocks, “Do you think you deserve to come?"
“Yes please! Nando please! I want it so bad, papi…” you don't feel ashamed to beg, when your body so badly needs relief, something only he can give you.
You feel him move behind you, and a second later, his cock fills you in one movement, making you scream his name into the pillow.
“Oh, always perfect for me…” He groans, pulling out only to slam back in again. His hands secure the restraint on your wrists, your hands manage to touch his forearm and you sink your nails into his skin for balance.
Your eyes roll in your head, pleasure consuming you like flames as his hips keep pounding into you, and you feel grateful for his demanding exercises routine from motorsports, because it makes his stamina last so long. You feel hypersensitive, like you can feel the friction in every molecule in your body, the pleasure in your pussy and he just keeps going, Fernando’s groaning louder by the second.
You feel when the orgasm approaches, that tingling in your body and your pussy contracting desperately. But then he stops, withdrawing his cock. You whimper in desperation, the orgasm slipping away again.
“Fernando, please! Please, I need you…” you scream as he plunges into you, so deep he takes your breath away for an instant. One of his hands grips your hips and the other travels up your spine until it closes around the back of your neck.
Then he circles his hand around your neck and pulls you up until you're on your knees, your hips pressed against his as he thrusts harder, making your tits bounce with the movement. The only thing separating his chest from your back is the grip on your wrists between your bodies.
“Please, Nando! I’m so close- can- can I cum?”
“Go on, you can cum. I want to feel it,” he orders, squeezing your throat, obstructing your breathing slightly. It’s his accented voice that pushes you off the cliff, the orgasm finally seizing you so hard you see stars in your vision, shivering as he holds you firmly up.
Your orgasm soon makes him come too, his groan in your ear as his hips push against you, slowing down as he fills you up.
When Fernando lets go of your neck, you fall limp on the bed, face first against the pillows. You feel his fingers release you from the restraints, and your arms fall to your sides. Fernando holds your wrists, massaging lightly. He kisses your shoulder softly and you smile lazily, all worn out, the way he likes you the most.
“Are you ok, princesa?” you hear him as you close your eyes.
“Yes, cariño. Never been better.” You murmur.
You keep your eyes closed as he wipes between your legs, and you feel as he rubs the soothing ointment onto your buttocks, then he uses a makeup wiper to clean your face. Fernando considers aftercare as important as sex, and you can't deny that you love the part of being lovingly pampered by him right after being fucked senseless.
Finally, he turns off the lights, pulls back the covers and lies beside you, your naked body being fully embraced by him. You get goosebumps when he nuzzles your neck, his beard tickling and making you giggle.
“I missed you a lot, mi cielo” He mutters against your skin.
“I missed you too, Nando. I loved seeing you so happy with that podium,” you say, pulling his hand up and kissing his knuckles.
“Thank you, maybe next time you should go cheer for me,” he kisses your collarbone.
“I’ll think about it, yeah?” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair, “maybe after finals.”
“I'm sure you'll get high scores on your tests, bebé” he whispers, and you feel a rush of joy at making him proud.
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satoruhour · 10 months
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racer jjk are so good 😩 i wonder if u can make a part two where is explain how the boys (gojo, geto, nanami, toji) and the reader first met. THANK YOUUU
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a/n: thx baby glad u liked them 😉 here you go! also mb if this is lacklustre guys 🧍‍♀i didn’t wanna write smut bc it’d be too similar ig. fun little post! pls still support me 🥹 (nanami’s is a bit suggestive!) / pt.1 here
✶ GOJO
you actually meet his ass when he almost crashes into u and while making a difficult drift turn before swerving at the sight of you. plus  surprise … you’re the police chief’s daughter. gojo at this point is still using a jacked up camaro, so it’s a wonder he’s able to still speed so well away from officers. but it’s not like he was running away from any crime, he just so happened to stumble across an interrogation of a fellow classmate initiated by the police chief’s son (your younger, cop worshipper brother). it was hardly an interrogation tho, more of a bully circle. gojos an cocky man but hes not entirely closed off from things happening around him. when theres people being wrongfully treated he steps in, but he’s pushing the limit a little running away from your brother and his police chief dad. especially when he’s got ties with the racing scene lol. bro doesnt exactly care tho, cause he knew the modifications he made to his engine he’s sure to get away lmaoooo.
there’s a rush of adrenaline that matches the exact moments when the first gear change happens and his foot presses down hard on the break, feeling the familiar sensation of the steering wheel under his fingers as he turns it to the right. nothing like a successful run of a difficult drift route, even more so with an annoying fucking kid chasing him. he was miles behind too, and gojo has to laugh out to himself in the driver’s seat before he yelps out at the shadow on the street.
“damn street lights. don’t even want to spend a few thousand to fix it,” he scoffs, thinking the figure would’ve apologised and ran away, but he’s a little pumped to see you, a relative of the very kid he was running away from. “don’t wanna chase me with daddy over there?”
you notice he’s nodding his head toward the incessant siren, your hotheaded father and your insufferable brother, two of them who butt heads all the time but still manage to get along. you couldn’t care less though, because of their arrogant, conceited behaviour; you vowed never to be like that. your father failed to raise you how he wanted you to turn out: dyed hair at sixteen, a stick ’n poke a year later, colluding with the “wrong” people (they were harmless, he just didn’t like them).
so he turned to your brother, corrupting his mind, and since then, you’ve been a ghost in the house, happy to even be ignored by the conservative kin that find people who are different a ’hassle’. with a story like this, gojo isn’t exactly clueless to your situation so he reaches over and opens the door to the passenger seat in a silent offer.
what’s a little salt in the wound, right?
gojo giggles when you slip in like he knew you would and you simply shrug, knowing this would seal the deal. you know you’re right when you hear furious honks from the police car which is quickly approaching, but watching gojo evade police on the news made you confident he’d outrun them every. single. time. “ooh, doesn’t sound good, princess. i’ll pick you up if you get kicked out of the house.”
it was such a dirty, rude comment that you would’ve slapped him but instead you just burst out laughing, weird noises and all before you’re patting the hand on his stick shift, “drive, hotshot.”
all you can do is roll your eyes with a smile, not missing the exhilarated smile and blush on his cheeks. you already feel at home in the 1969 camaro he’s driving, seeing the exact same car later that night when you’re waiting on the sidewalk with a bulk of your things.
“so much for being daddy’s girl.” gojo smiles, a little sickeningly that you want to punch him (you hear it’s like that from his friends and you find it to be true), but you accept the ride anyway, with a promise he’d get something more later.
✶ GETO
the first time you see him is before a race, having stumbled into the bustling underground of cars and the peak of 2000s fashion because you’re still navigating japan even after six months on an exchange program. it’s difficult when they have different parking lots for every monument building, which all look the same, mind you. it was like a puzzle for your poor mind, especially since there was tons of undocumented alleys in the area you were in. u immediately get hit by the smell of petrol and smoke and conversation and it’s like woah…. stepping entirely into a new world sort of??? even with his fame suguru stays humble tho, keeping gojo ans nanami close to him while keeping his distance from fangirls and stuff. shit gets messy !!!!
gojo nudges geto so hard he almost falls if not for his mazda behind him, and he’s ready to shoot a glare towards satoru but then he looks past the annoying man and into the crowd to find you, doe eyed and looking all around the place like a deer caught in headlights. you’re all dressed up in a cute get-up, hair framing your face so cutely he has half a mind to talk to you. plus, it’s clear you don’t belong here, and there isn’t anything wrong with that but the people here sometimes tend to be a tad bit… stuck-up.
there’s already a few in the crowd giving you weird looks and others giggling, clearly put off by the confused glances you exchange between your phone and the area. geto is prepared to head your way, but his resolve hardens when he sees todo and his gang start to approach the poor person who can only freeze in place.
geto pushes off his car immediately, completely disregarding whatever comment gojo was making while nanami watches silently. todo’s already asked you a question, and when you don’t answer, everyone knows the next thing he’ll do is to humiliate you, but not before geto interferes.
“she’s mine, aoi.” shoving him away, todo only scoffs and spits on the floor beside you because he can’t do anything except leave the place before anything escalates. it’s a clear rule, too, that anyone’s partner or significant other is off-limits, unless you want to propose a race to win them over — but even so it’s not that simple.
the murmurs only heighten when geto asks if you’re okay, a palm on your back to lead you away from the action of everything. thankfully, his mazda and the other two men are stationed at the corner, and the crowd’s attention slowly pulls away from you and onto the revving engines of the two competing cars.
“you okay?” geto looks down, shielding the bright car park lights and peeking a glance at where you were meant to go. it’s a quaint cafe in the basement of a building near shibuya square — a place which could be accessed by the parking lot, but it looks like you took an early turn and ended up in this one instead.
all you could muster up was a nod, mind going a hundred miles per hour just like those cars that were going to race; you’re more focused on his brown eyes that hold yours too well, though, dark and hypnotising that he has to repeat his question.
“yeah. for the most part, i guess. tha—” you mumble, but before you can bow and thank the man who’s already making a mark on your mind with his imposing stature, his friend chimes in.
“don’t mind aoi, he’s just intense like that.” you look past geto to see the white-haired racer who sports a bright grin, and to his side, a blonde, bored-looking guy who’s around the same age. “where you headed?”
geto waves a hand at them and cuts in as you answer, “i’ll take you. don’t mind those two idiots.” his sudden offer has your heart jumping just a bit; a mean brooding guy looking for a little cafe who’s holding a cinnamoroll event at the moment? what a sight to behold.
you’re all prepared to go when gojo tosses the keys to his mazda, and you’re thinking that maybe it really was further than expected but the man is soon leaning down to whisper into your ear.
“but before you go, want to watch me race?” geto grins, noticing that you’re at a loss for words again. you do that a lot, huh. it wouldn’t hurt to show off a little to get you absolutely speechless.
“i’ll treat you to whatever you want in that cute cafe, too.”
✶ NANAMI
ok the small drabble i wrote was sorta how they met but yes basically that!!!! nanami comes in at first (but you’re not doing much, just hanging around in the back), panicking cause he’s got an important race tmr (he just doesn’t gojo to win over whether he would have to borrow one of gojo’s dodge chargers) and hes like ? hes wondering what’s wrong with his dodge and when your dad mentions how he may need to order the parts his world falls apart fr 😭. and then he ends up borrowing it from gojo LMFAOOO. since you guys roughly know their meeting (nanami’s return to the shop after your father fixes the car and then eating you out wheeew) ill highlight life with nanami after that whole shebang!
you like to recall the first time you’ve met nanami, hardly a meeting, really, because you didn’t even see his face, but you hear his voice. a deep timbre with a seriousness to it that tells you that he could’ve fixed his own car if he tried and maybe just lacked the parts. however, you’re appalled when your father comes home later that night and tells you it was a dodge charger they were dealing with, a 1968 release that was no doubt passed down in his generation.
so when you’re peeking out of the supply room the second time nanami returns, you’re not surprised by his blonde hair, possibly a descendant of european blood, but had been born and raised in japan. it wasn’t uncommon, but it felt like he was such a specific ethnicity with the features he had. you’re right when you’re out with nanami a few weeks later, learning his grandfather was danish, smiling as he talked about his family.
it was by chance that he got into the racing scene, getting acquainted with gojo briefly because he was always infuriating in class — but then the both of them began to grow out of high school and entered university, introducing nanami to both geto, gojo’s best friend and to racing. it had made an impression on his heart immediately, reluctantly asking to ride in gojo’s car as they sped through the night and then trying his hand at it later.
“so geto-san was the one who taught you how to drift?” you ask from the passenger seat, a calm atmosphere surrounding the two of you as nanami takes you out for a casual drive along the freeway, bringing you to his favourite place to drift ever since he’s trained there. it was a clean ascent once he reaches the mountain, jogging over to open the door for you before sticking out a hand.
“thank you… kento,” you feel his hand tighten around yours, bringing you around to the front before leaning on the front of the car with you, the jangle of the bracelet he’s got you making noises when he pulls you into his side. it’s been a month with him, yet he already feels so committed, albeit stoic.
but you realise, in the midst of it, you’re the only one who can manage to pry a smile out of him, the lines on his face fading away when he picks you up from your dad’s shop. the loud engine is always an indicator, greeting him at the door of the garage as your father sends you off with a grin, leaning into the driver’s seat to press a peck through the window.
“when you say my name like that,” nanami mumbles, appreciating the scene with his lips in your hair; and while nanami is all soft and gentle with you, sometimes his carnal instincts get the best of him and he says the filthiest things, unprompted, “it makes me want to eat you out on the hood of my car again.”
you roll your eyes with a smile, because you’ve already done it twice: one in the shop and another in a secluded car park, but you know nanami hasn’t glutted his appetite for you yet, and he makes sure you know he never will.
✶ TOJI
the drabble previously mentioned how you were a little older megumi — through tutoring megumi, you met toji. it was a chance encounter sort of, u put up an ad at the end of your second year of uni since the winter break was a little longer than usual, so you decided to earn a bit of pocket money thru tutoring in the one subject you were most comfortable in: humanities. the syllabus in schools nowadays has become harder too, even going as far as to research papers and then scoff in disgust at the intensity of the questions lol … it’s routine in the school system to do that, gearing up for the questions you might be asked when u first get an enquiry call on the line. you hang up with a time and address and when u reach megumi opens the door, but toji emerges from his man cave (garage. hes obsessed w/ his corvette) later and jesus christ hes (almost) six foot of pure dilf that youre considering sidling up to him instead LMAO. esp with how the house looked, it wouldnt be so bad being a old man’s bitch
the doorbell you rang reverberates throughout the house, albeit a bit muffled, but the door opens quickly and you’re met with a black spiky-haired kid, who looks a few years younger than you. but megumi didn’t really need an introduction, because you’re pointing it out to him once inside.
“aren’t you the kid that got suspended for beating up gang members?” sometimes his seniors never knew when to shut up. to this, megumi just sighs.
“yep, that’s me. i told you my name over the phone but,” he extends a hand, “i’m fushiguro megumi.”
you hum and take his hand, introducing yourself as well before a thud makes you snap your head to the noise, where a larger and taller man emerges from the door that connects the living room to the garage. he has features similar to megumi’s and he’s currently clutching his toe, stubbing it on the cabinet on his way out and cursing his head off.
it isn’t difficult to match name to face for him as well, remembering a report you did on the increasingly popular racing scene starting up again. don’t ask — it was a pretty open assignment and you didn’t hesitate to write about the culture back then, something you always wished you lived in.
now, you’re not too taken aback by casually stumbling across fushiguro toji’s home, but more of how he managed to maintain his physique for so many years. if there’s anything your research told you, he was more on the lanky side in his twenties, the right side of his mouth clear from the scar while dominating the drifting scene back in the 80s.
“who’re you, kid?” a little annoyed at the name but you open your mouth to introduce yourself, and toji nods, although confused. it seems like he’s not too involved in megumi’s grades, because when you tell him megumi himself had called you over a bad grade in literature and social studies, his expression drops into an ‘o’. 
“ah, i would’ve taught him myself but…” you knew he dropped out of high school before, living a crap life trying to pay off debts his father had left him and turning to racing and winning bets to make a living out of it. it was scary how this information was so accessible to you via one of his interviews, but you can tell he’s put it long before him, choosing to focus on raising megumi and maintaining his corvette.
“make yourself at home, alright, doll?” doll. you stutter out an affirmative reply.
though when he said that, you hadn’t imagined wandering into the same door he had came out of before. he was probably checking on the condition of his car, knees protruding out of the corvette’s side as he rolls out on the creeper at the sound of someone approaching. you didn’t wish to do this, truly, but when some kids from megumi’s school had attempted to play a prank by picking toji’s lock to get back at megumi, the latter had discovered them after coming out the side door.
needless to say, megumi still holds up his reputation, chasing them down for more than three blocks (it was seven) before proceeding to, you assume, beat them up. you imagine it’s routine for toji at this point, but you still want to at least let him know.
“he’s off again?” toji sits up after hearing your explanation, using the wrench to scratch his temple. sure, he’s only like twenty years older than you — it certainly doesn’t stop you from checking out how his muscles bulge against his compression shirt, or the grey sweatpants he’d got on that you told yourself not to peep at. “don’t mind the kid, i’ll lecture him when he returns later.”
he sighs and grumbles under his breath, expecting you to leave, and when you don’t he just raises an eyebrow, a silent prompt for you to explain what else you needed. you only pointed to the hood. 
“uh… toji-san, if you’re keen on getting back into racing,” toji fully stands up to his height, curious on what you have to say, but also wondering how much balls you had to talk about racing in front of him, “you should really change your 283 cubic-inch V8 to a 327. i, uh, heard the specifications on the new engine has better fuel delivery and horsepower.”
toji relaxes when you actually know your crap, not wanting to deal with another annoying fan begging him to get back into racing, although you’re not entirely off the hook. “and why should i listen to you, hm, doll?”
he stands there, unimpressed, but you didn’t research cars like a madman for nothing. it was a rabbit hole you had commended yourself for diving into, too, because you always had wanted to start, just, how? and that changed when you finally had the opportunity to delve into the complicated world of cars with the help of your friend’s dad who was a mechanic. “um… you really don’t. just giving some pointers, or at least, recommendations that go well with your ’66 corvette.”
oh my god? you know the exact year his chevrolet was released too?
the ex-racer only nods slowly, keeping it in mind for the next time he has the time to switch to an updated engine, but he didn’t expect help to come from your hands the next time, working under the hood like a professional while still leaving the heavy lifting to him. you had fun each time in the garage, exchanging intel and geeking about cars while you both open up to each other — all under the guise of tutoring his son.
since then, toji has taken his corvette out to meet you more than he takes it out for errands, meeting you with a promise that he would take care of your university fees. but none of the time spent with you would’ve warned him that you two would be changing his next engine, too, except that maybe, you were finally his girl.
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why does toji’s always end up the longest bye. also this is the only req i’ve gotten, i swear i don’t bite guys. ♡ thirsts and drabble requests are open!
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celaenaeiln · 6 months
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I literally can't take it anymore. I need to get this out of my system. This is a hate-rant about why almost every single thing Tom Taylor has written is wrong.
First and foremost is the bimbofication of Dick Grayson. Tom Taylor loves to write him like this idiot who doesn't think at all. Being cheerful does not mean being dumb.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #79
"You seem unusually contemplative"? All Dick does is contemplate!
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #3
His mind is always running!
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Nightwing (2011) Issue #13
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #38
I just picked a random issue from all of these comics and in every single one of these, Dick's planning, thinking, and strategising constantly.
Tom Taylor literally treats him like he's stupid or something.
Also the degradation of his abilities
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #79
A vigilante for 20 years. Who has faced assassins, hitmen, psychos, surprise attacks, metas, and you're telling me he didn't know that a untrained kid snuck up and stole from him?
He forgot who he was, he didn't forget where he lived! Even when he was Ric Grayson, Dick had procedural memory. His battle instincts stayed with him.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #52
"Then...I didn't even know what I was doing. I took him down--took him apart in seconds."
This man is a vigilante machine when he was amnesic. Why the heck would Dick ever let his guard down?
His robin reference
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #92
Even Bruce in Batman: Hush has said it-Dick was the best. His skills were the best of anyone he's witnessed which is one of the reasons why Bruce let him be Robin in the first place.
This scene is so wrong that there's a robin scene that came out before this in direct opposition of this Tom Taylor Shitshow.
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Robin & Batman Issue #1
This was actually pre-robin. Bruce had him do a solo-trial run to see his skill before he made him Robin and this was the result. Compare that to Tom Taylor's scene and the result is humiliating. For Taylor.
Tom Taylor's version of trying to show that Dick loves the people comes off as him hating crime-fighting. RIP the whole Robin firing drama and Nightwing birth i guess.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #79
"We could have avoided all of this if we'd just stayed in and eaten kibble."
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #3
Dick would rather die than stop crime-fighting. After Blockbuster's first attempt, his life was hanging on by a thread and he still continued crime fighting.
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #91
After Blockbuster blew up his apartment, this is the single-minded determination Dick had to continue crime-fighting. This is him at one of the worst lows of his life but he refused to give up but now? He has everything and Dick wants to ignore the murder of a child to stay inside and eat kibble which - what the heck? I know he's seen as a happy character but him finding dog-food desirable is too far!
Also the idiocy of which Tom Taylor had Barbara calling the cops in Bludhaven for a stolen wallet. Newsflash! This isn't her first rodeo here.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #81
vs
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #24
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Nightwing (2011) Issue #23
Given how Dick's easily defeated enhanced metas and "very good" fighters, him falling down the stairs is a little to absolutely impossible to believe.
Another thing I love about Dick that Tom Taylor deciminates is his grace. Dick is the most graceful person in DC. His balance easily matches Selina's enhanced cat powers.
But yet. You have.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #83
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Nightwing (2011) Issue #23
yeah. okay.
Taylor's motorbike scenes of Dick make me so mad. The boy is a pro at crazy. It's one of his best traits because he does the wildest stunts and he pulls it off.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #93
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #86
He lands on his feet. He grabbed a villain mid-air, crashed into a window, and was perfectly fine. Actually no, he's not fine because he's worried about his bike's paint job.
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Nightwing (2011) Issue #24
He just sailed over a whole crowd of people and started kicking butt like what he just did wasn't extraordinary - which for him is just another tuesday.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #95
yeah, tell 'er Dick.
He doesn't need someone to hold his bike.
One of the worst things in Taylor's run is how Blockbuster went down. It suddenly reminded me of Selina's stupid ideology which is why I think I got so ticked off.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #96
Blockbusters' thugs loyalty to him isn't a make it or break it deal. He's one of strongest criminal organisations and the knowledge that he owns one of the worst prisons that he could easily put his underlings into would've instilled fear into his thugs, not freedom. Furthermore Blockbuster takes good care of his people that don't piss him off. He teamed up with Nightwing in the scarecrow era in Nightwing (2016) because someone was messing with his people. He's extremely intelligent and superstrong, and he's not just going to be brought down by the knowledge that he owns a prison. It's Bludhaven. If he didn't, then there would be something suspicious given that he runs the city. It's the way Taylor dumbs down Bludhaven's villains that gets to me. Imagine him writing Batman (2016). It's like saying, "yeah the Joker was just a little misguided but he found the right way again after a stern talking to by Batman."
Nightwing is a big name.
When Dick first came to Bludhaven, one of the police officers was like we don't want your crazy here or something. Also Bludhaven loves Nightwing. They want him.
So why is everyone pretending like they don't know who he is?
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #90
The police, the citizens, the villains-all of them. Dick fought Brutale and beat the crap out of him way back in 1996 comic. He's a Bludhaven regular. Just because Dick forgot who he was doesn't mean anyone else forgot him. Amnesia doesn't work that way.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #54
A whole team of Nightwings were formed during Dick's amnesic period because of how badly he was needed and missed. It's almost like the Tom Taylor run is set in an alternate universe.
I ran out of image space but what the absolute fiddlesticks is up with Dick being scared to jump. It better be a manipulation tactic but at this point I think Tom Taylor doesn't even know that Dick is manipulative.
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congratulations again on the followers. Can we please get the head cannons for Jason grace x daughter of Neptune reader. If your too busy or just don’t feel like it I understand. Love you❤️ and thank you
⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x daughter of neptune! reader hcs
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content: jason grace x daughter of neptune! reader hcs warning: loooooots of language my bad yall, the last few had been too clean for me author's note: YES thank you for reminding me bc i did in fact forget this was something i said i would do, LMAO anyways moving on these were good fun and on the masterlist im gonna count them as a continuation bc they are highly related so yeah, enjoy!!
okay okay WE BACK ON THE DAUGHTER OF NEPTUNE GRIND
sally adopts you instantly
her sweet salt water girl
your birthday is basically branded into the calendar along side percy's
then annabeth's is added
then jason's
then everyone elses, all of which are color coded
sally just be collecting demigod children like pokemon frfr
she doesn't care that your a daughter of neptune or whatever, doesn't even care to listen to it as she drags you into the kitchen and shoves blue cookies into your face
you and percy get matching tattoos (other than the camp jupiter ones)
below your ankles, percy got a little wave and you got a little seashell
you two lied and told everyone it was to keep you guys connected but in reality it was a lost bet to the stoll's
who were sworn to secrecy
christmases are always spent at the jackson-blofis household
at first it was just you and percy, then sally allowed jason and annabeth to come too
that then turned into a household filled with demigods, with two on the couch, four on air mattresses in the living room, and then you and percy shared a room
hazel and frank always took the couch, leo loved the air mattresses and always tried to see if he could send someone flying by jumping on it, piper always the victim as they shared. and annabeth and jason would start on the air mattresses, but always find their way to their significant other's room
it took jason three christmases to finally sneak into your room, while annabeth did it the very first second she could
look, he was scared of authority okay, leave him alone
also, doesn't help that you and percy shared a room
i just know percy was glaring up a storm
jk jk he actually likes jason, as much as a brother can like his little sister's boyfriend
he likes how soft jason is with you, gentle hands pushing your hair behind your ears and setting plates of food before you without being told
he can appreciate that jason is good for his sister, but he also loves to put on a show
"MOM! JASON GRABBED Y/N'S BUTT!!" he shouts out of nowhere, jason instantly turning the color of a traffic light and throwing his hands up like he's under arrest
"PERCY! HE DIDN'T, MOM, I SWEAR!" you're shouting back, shoving at percy with your hands
"I SAW IT WITH MY OWN EYES, YOU'RE NOT GONNA TRUST YOUR OWN SON, MOM??"
"I'M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU LYING PIECE OF GREEK-"
"BOTH OF YOU, KNOCK IT OFF!! look, you broke jason," sally cut in, gesturing to jason, who had still yet to move
percy looked all smug until you shoved his face down into his blue pancakes, which were naturally soaked in syrup
"you suck."
"and you swallow."
"STOP YOU'RE JUST GONNA MAKE JASON WORSE."
poor baby boy
as much as he loves you, refuses to touch you when percy or sally or really anyone is around
he's too proper and scared of pda
he's grown to be okay with holding your hand but even like brushing his hand against your waist and he's apologizing and blushing and pulling back
jason and percy both carry a lot of trauma from their amnesia and the only reason they talked about it with each other was because of you
jason talked to you about it by himself
and then percy talked about it to you by himself
and you were like...why don't they talk to each other about it???
so you locked them in the poseidon cabin and made them talk about it and it was actually super healing
"i just...everytime i forget something, it feels like im gonna forget it all, ya know?" percy murmured, pretending to superrrr interested in a spot on the floor
"if anyone knows, it's me. gods, i worry everyday that i'm gonna wake up and it's all just...going to be gone again. and what if this time, i don't get it back? i dont- i don't get her back. i got lucky, but luck always runs out," jason replied, eyes locked on the lake, which he could see through the window
"i think you'd always remember parts of her. i mean, i did with annabeth and didnt you remember y/n's eyes? i think the gods can only take away so much, i think they left behind residue because they couldn't get rid of all that. all those emotions, all those feelings, all those memories. it's a lot to erase completely," reasoned percy with a shrug before looking up at jason, his lips qurking
"you thinking what im thinking?" he offered and jason pulled his eyes from the lake with a frown.
"statistically speaking, probably not."
"wanna read y/n's diary??"
"what?! no, percy-"
"i've seen some pretty juicy stuff about you in there, grace."
"...just a peek won't hurt, right?"
they did, in fact, not just take a peek
read the whole thing
jason was super smiley coming up to you, proudly pressing a kiss to your cheek, which surprised you as you were aware of his pda issues
"looks who's all happy!! good chat with percy?" you asked with a giggle as he took your hand into his, pressing his lips to the back of your hand, drawing more giggles from you
"yeah, something like that. we just talked about, oh, i dunno, how my eyes remind him of the color of the summer sky when he was 12. oh, and how my skin just looks so nice covered in sweat and-"
"YOU READ MY DIARY, YOU LITTLE SHIT!"
"IT WAS PERCY'S IDEA!!" jason snitched instantly as he tugged his hand free and bolted away
"GREAT! I WAS LOOKING FOR A REASON TO KILL YOU BOTH!! GET BACK HERE, YOU ROMAN MOTHERFUCKER!"
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IT’S YOU, HAPPY ALL THE TIME ─── jonathan breech ✧☾𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I ask Jessica what drowning feels like and she says not everything feels like something else." — ‘Jessica gives me a chill pill’, Angie Sijun Lou.
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pairing. jonathan breech x reader
summary. you’ve bared your heart to your bestfriend, jonathan, more times than you can count, whilst knowing practically nothing at all about him. what is friendship if it is not equal… what is love if it is not returned? can your relationship survive such one-sidedness?
warnings. swearing, TW mention & description of suicide/attempts & depression, very introspective/kind of a character study???, alcohol & drug use, pining, ANGST!!!!, crying, fluff, smut with feelings, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f), SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 
word count. 10k (WTF??!?!!??)
a/n. the title is from “she won’t go away” by faye webster:) btw this is… rly angsty (and SO long omg im still in shock) so beware🫡 ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN WHILE!! SCHOOL IS KICKING MY BUTT & THIS FIC WAS AN ABSOLUTE MONSTER TO WRITE LMAO
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i. 
There are very few words in your vocabulary you can use to accurately describe Jonathan Breech. 
The boy is an enigma, a matryoshka doll that never ends: he is witty and lighthearted and sarcastic, but you’ll always catch that edge, the air of malaise he carries around himself, the unspoken elephant in the room that screams WHO ARE YOU REALLY?
He had always been more of a figure, a landscape; something to witness, observe-- experience without letting it do the same to you. You don’t know if that’s something you want, either: there’s an imbalance in his hilarity, and he always takes things a step too far. Jonathan lights matches and lets them burn all the way down to his fingertips; he shaves and lets the blade leave stinging little nicks, rivulets of blood running down his neck; he chainsmokes cigarettes in his room and only opens the window when he feels his heart hammering in his chest, desperate for air. 
You meet him — or, first experience him in a similar fashion: he had been in the university library, standing on top of a creaky, old bookshelf, shouting something you couldn’t understand over the music blasting through your headphones. You could certainly see him though, gesturing animatedly, dressed eccentrically in his signature winter trapper hat and a velvet blazer. That thin, effeminate figure of his was making winding, marionette-ish steps along the wood, an action that had everyone readying themselves to catch his inevitable fall. 
Then, seemingly out of nowhere and catching you completely off guard, you caught his eye. He began stepping from one shaky shelf to the next, a complete miracle none of them toppled over, before stopping on one close enough for you to read his lips. 
“Hi,” he mouthed, shifting uneasily on his left foot before regaining a steady balance, “you’re in my class, right?”
You nodded, hesitantly— yes, truthfully, you’d seen him in your Introduction to Literary Studies course a couple of weeks ago, sporting the same outfit as he did now, but you thought nothing of him. He’d been generally well-behaved then, asking slightly odd but in-tune questions that more or less answered all your inquiries, so you didn’t think the guy would have a penchant for, well… book-shelf hopping. 
He grinned, about to say something else, before something — or someone, made him flinch. A professor, probably, considering the unintelligibly muffled, booming voice behind you. However, Jonathan made quick work of the situation, sneakily climbing down and escaping out the door. 
The next time you see him, he’s sidled up beside you in your shared class. “Mind if I sit here?” a familiar voice had asked, to which you murmured a non-committal knock y’self out, before realizing with wide eyes.  His presence had caught you off-guard, as he so often did, and you sensed a pattern blooming. 
Jonathan certainly made for an odd desk-partner; his personality warped the environment around you, and it was suddenly so much easier to tear your eyes away from the lecture and land on Jonathan’s own. It’s something you never thought you’d ever do, because you adore the material being taught. 
At the end of class, he asks you out for a drink: he’s just found the best Irish stout in the entire city, and what better way to make it known than to take anyone and everyone he knows there?
Rejection is written on your face clear as day— you have class tomorrow, an essay that needs to be finished, and honestly, pubs just aren’t really your scene. 
But in the end… you still bite. You can’t help it: he’s disarming and warm and looks like he should smell like a bonfire. Somehow, that just does it for your brain; it’s here you learn of the charm that is Jonathan Breech. 
That night goes everything and nothing like you expected: you expected not to be able to predict his actions, and that’s exactly what happens. When you meet Jonathan at the aforementioned pub, it’s not actually the one he’s meaning to take you to— it’s just the closest public place to the on-campus dorm, which is where he says he’s rooming. 
“‘ve got a neighbor m’pretty sure is trying to sleep with me,” he says absently, ushering you onto the back of his bike, which had been leaning against a NO PARKING sign. “He’s always toget’er wit’ our dorm advisor, so I should l reject him before I get kicked out, if y’get what I mean.”
Now, you honestly should’ve expected this from a guy who jumped from six-foot book shelves, but Jonathan’s biking is all swift turns and jilted stops, mere milliseconds from repeatedly running red lights. You want to ask if he just learned how to ride the thing yesterday, but can’t, not with how utterly reckless and shameless he is about it, his terrible steering making you instinctively wrap your arms around his chest. 
You clutch him tightly, making him hum in approval, and you feel your ears burn flusteredly. You would’ve pulled away, but then he cut from the right lane to the left in one swift move, barely missing several cars, and you practically shrieked instead. “Oh my god!”
“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly. You can’t see his face, having shut your eyes in fear, but after hearing the blatant cheekiness in his tone, you can imagine clear as day how gleefully it contorts. You want to slap him somewhere, anywhere, but that’d defeat the point of being mad at his recklessness, so you squeeze him tighter instead, and he chokes on his breath. “Jesus-- m’sorry, really!”
When the two of you make it to the pub — alive and uninjured! — annoyingly all the way across town, your first few steps off his bike are stuttered, dizzy: “We are-- not going by bike next time,” you gasp, leaning against a random brick wall. 
“Next time, eh?” He grins, and this time you really do slap him— just on the arm, bless your self-control and niceties not to beat this oddly comfortable-to-be-around near-stranger to death. 
The pub, with its forgettable name and dingy stools, has a minimal, lackluster crowd. A kitschy neon sign flickers and dies as you walk in, making you raise a brow, but Jonathan merely drags you by the arm to a cozy corner table, then disappearing deeper within the venue before returning moments later with two pints of black beer in tow.
“Go on, then,” he gestures, setting the tall glass on the table, sitting down in the chair in front of you and taking a hearty sip of his own drink.
You let out a little hesitant sigh at his words, before relenting and taking in a long gulp of the liquid. “…Huh,” you remark, impressed. Jonathan smiled knowingly behind his glass, letting out a smug little ah, you see? 
“Worth the long ride?” he inquired innocently, as if that was the only thing wrong with the night.
“Worth the ride, but not worth almost dying for,” you rolled your eyes goodheartedly, knocking back the rest of the bitter drink and making him whistle. 
The rest of the night goes like this: Jonathan orders two more rounds of the quality Irish stout before the two’ve you are stumbling out of the pub, exploring all the nightlife there is to offer, like the crowd surrounding an out-door live comedy group performing down the street that has you and Jonathan giggling for hours after, or the underground speakeasy you accidentally find yourselves shoved into, a nasally guitarist singing on a smoky stage, several more drinks finding themselves in your system despite how nauseous you already feel.
“You-- d’you fancy him?” Jonathan slurs behind you, steadying himself by pressing his hands to your waist.
“F-fancy who?” you blink blearily, leaning into his warm touch.
“Who else m’I talkin’ about, girl? The singer!”
You shake your head no numbly, practically collapsing into his arms now, your head lulling on his chest. You’re so close you can smell the distinct scent of his skin, that unique musk everyone has, and it’s strangely familiar, like those smells that evoke old, nostalgic memories. It’s like how sunscreen summons the smell of the sun after a childhood beach day, or how vanilla extract takes you back to the smell of your mother’s baked goods on a specific winter evening.
“Reckoned you wouldn’t,” he assumes, hands coming away from your waist to wrap his arms around your shoulders, swaying to the music slightly in the crowded club, “looks like a -- right bleedin’ dope… wit’ that mop of hair.”
You giggle, alcohol riddled beyond belief, unable to formulate a response with the conflicting blurry thoughts in your head: it’s telling you Jonathan Breech isn’t the crowd you want, that you need to go home and work, that you let loose too easily— but it also tells you that you can see yourself becoming friends with him very, very quickly. 
It’s there, in that club, Jonathan Breech moves into your life and fills a gaping hole you didn’t know existed, like a hole in your stockings you only notice when you get home. You have friends, certainly, more than you can count on both hands, but they never get as close as Jonathan does. After that night, an unknown force pulls the two of you together, making you run into him everywhere, and a tight friendship blooms like a lilypad in a raging storm; beauty within the chaos. In the multitude of close friendships you’ve harbored, he is the first to see so many sides of you. The last thing that did was your mother; it had only ever been your mother. 
He is an endearing, amazing friend, both the intent listener and the charismatic speaker all at once; he knows his friends like the back of his hand, can recount their life like he can count the number of moles on his face-- but you, and everyone else, know absolutely nothing about him. 
At least, close to nothing-- you know he likes ice cream and hanging out and going to the pub; you know he likes biking and doing drugs and women; you know he hates the sea and his brother and his father, but you don’t know him. All you’ve ever seen him do is smile or laugh or shout in mock anger; there is a carefully glued mask on his face he takes meticulous caution in preserving-- he is terrified to let go, despite the blasé persona he lets on.
Or maybe the mysterious matter of your bestfriend is tripping you up for no reason; maybe you’re psychoanalyzing something that doesn’t need to be psychoanalyzed, reading between lines that don’t exist. But if you were asked to answer honestly, there’s just something about Jonathan you don’t get. There is a split seam in the tapestry of his life, missing pieces in the story he pretends to tell with utmost accuracy. There are things that he never talks about, that he recoils when asked like you’ve poked a tender wound. 
“So, what were you doing before… all this?” You ask him once, laying on his messy bed in his dorm-room and scanning the water-damage constellations dotted along his popcorn ceiling. By all this you mean going to university, being the resident party boy, aimlessly pursuing a degree you’re 99% sure he picked blindfolded (culinary science) and standing here, with you, snorting a line of something on his creaky wooden desk. 
Jonathan freezes, still hunched over. “What d’you-- what d’you mean?” he says, tone breezy but, uncharacteristically tense… jilted and preoccupied. You could’ve brushed it off as him being seriously focussed on his drugs, but the way he shifts, how his shoulders curl in like he wants to disappear, tells you otherwise. 
“I mean, before going to school here… y’know, what were you like as a dumb teenager?”
You two’re twenty, barely not-teenagers, but it still makes a world of a difference: you’re living away from home, doing what you want, experiencing (a juvenile, naive version of) freedom and adulthood.
“I dunno… kind of a tool, that's f’sure,” he chuckled, rubbing his nose roughly. He’s being funny on purpose, a jester’s distraction: he doesn’t want you to realize his answers’ not really one at all. 
You shifted on his bed, now leaning against his headboard. His answer strikes you as odd and uncharacteristic despite his attempts to evade suspicion: usually, Jonathan pounces at the chance to yap on and on. “What, the great Jonathan Breech doesn’t have any wild stories to tell? No bones broken, girls dumped, houses trashed?” 
He snorted at that, like some inside joke you weren’t privy to was brought up in your words, and he descended back down on a carefully partitioned line of white. “I broke my baby finger once,” he relented vaguely when he finished, dusting off the table and licking the remains off his hand. “I cried and I cried and I cried.”
“Did it hurt that much?” you grinned, mind trailing off to imagine a baby-faced Jonathan Breech, a juvenile highschool boy, doing something silly to break that finger. Maybe he accidentally flung off his bike, broke it because of a dare, or maybe it happened just by slipping and falling. 
“It - uh… didn’t hurt enough,” Jonathan smiled, tight-lipped and paltry. All at once the air in the room had changed, like someone attached a vacuum to the window and sucked everything out. 
Your grin fell, and you watched him carefully: perhaps, had you not been as close to him as you were, he’d have let something show. A twitch in the smile, a break in the facade. But you were, and his face stayed the same, and your thoughts ran circles around themselves. This was… something else, something belonging to the part of his life he didn’t talk about. 
The atmosphere had grown tense, taut, a rubber band twisted ‘round and round, threatening to burst, so you leave the matter of his injury alone; of his life alone. You go back to staring at his ceiling, he goes back to his drugs; Jonathan collapses within himself, and you don’t notice how badly he suffocates… how suffering in silence is also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found.
ii.
Sometimes, despite his self-imposed distance, Jonathan lets someone look inside his head. 
You are both the sometimes and the someone; you don’t know why it’s always you, but you chalk it up to the fact that beneath his unpredictable demeanor, the murky and unreadable feelings he holds for others, is this uncharacteristic constant: he holds a softness for you. It’s what lets you know there’s something haunted lurking beneath his happy-go-lucky surface. 
You don’t know where this softness comes from, either. But you know you see it, in lingering touches, tender duchenne smiles unlike the devilish tilt his lips usually hold, how he clasps his hand around yours after a night at the pub and walks you home because he knows you get paranoid. You see it in how he comes over to your apartment when you don’t answer anyone's calls during exam season, how he remembers what your mother’s name is and what your childhood pet was and what your favorite flowers are. How his lips brush past your cheek when he pulls away from hugs, his hands shuddering around your shoulders, like he’s afraid he’ll crush you.
You only wish you could do the same. You want to sit by his side and mend his heart, lend an ear to his most mundane fears, you want to take his hand into your own and kiss it softly, return all that he has done for you, take the same as you have given to him: what is friendship if it is not equal, what is love if it is not returned? It is something broken, unable; split halves of one heart, an imbalance in the scale, Bonnie without her Clyde, a fish out of water. 
Jonathan pours his heart into your own, filling holes you know you don’t have, and you think he may be overcompensating for something else, seeing things in you that really belong to him. It is maddening, and you just want to beg and plead he lets you in. 
But you settle for the gentle pokes, the prodding, and try to decipher the vague answers he gives you. Most days, you can’t really make sense of it. 
“Sorry,” you apologize, about to leave the outing you planned with Jonathan — studying, or, trying to study, at an intimate coffeebar the two of you frequented — “my dad’s gotten drunk with his lads and my mum needs help dragging him home.”
 “Hey, hey, don’t worry. I get it: my dad used to do that all the time,” he waves your words off casually, but you don’t miss how jilted he says used to and the pain in his tone at all the time.
“Oh, surely she was fit to go to the madhouse?” you laughed once, responding to Jonathan’s complaints about an eccentric classmate in his agricultural studies. He laughs back, he always does, but this one is hollow, forced; barely stopping a grimace from coloring his tone. 
You notice these things like it’s a shadow following someone in the sun. He is lying, hiding; about something you don’t know but it is happening. It is happening, and you are so very curious: you pick up on the littlest tendrils of him, fed wholly on any information you can squeeze out. He is a mystery you want to delve within completely; answer that question of WHO ARE YOU REALLY? and leave no room for error. 
You’d give yourself to him the very same if he merely asked; you’d whisper childhood fears and tell the origin stories of faded scars on your knees and why you check under your bed before sleeping. You’d detail your entire life from sunset birth to starry night end if he even made a passing comment about knowing; you would trust your love, your heart, your entire life in his beautiful, shaky hands. This is the relationship you have built around yourselves, and it is beginning to feel terribly one-sided. 
Alas, your curiosity overwhelms him, and you take it too far, just once. Only once. 
“Where’d this come from?” you murmur, brushing your fingers over a scar above his eyebrow. It’s something you see only now, his hair mussed and wild from the various blankets and pillows on your dinky couch. 
He’s crashing at your apartment tonight, an invited event, because you often miss him like you miss home; the boy is sneaky— he slinks away like a street cat and only comes back for food. It’s only fair he lets you wrangle him back like this, making him stay by your side at least once a week.  
Your words make him freeze, like he often does; it reminds you of hikers, who freeze when they see mountain lions— he thinks if he stops and stares and pretends to disappear you’ll look the other way, drop the question, forget him completely.
But you don’t. You don’t know what’s affecting him -- not that he wants you to -- so you just stare back into his cornflower blue eyes. You stop and stare and see right through him; you hold the question like a knife to his neck, and commit him to memory. 
“The scar?” Jonathan pales, shuddering despite it having long since been healed over. The aftershocks of an earthquake. 
You simply nod, fingers pulling away. You’re still closer than ever though, the two of you being the only things in your cramped concrete apartment, the chosen movie on your telly still running and long forgotten. 
Your attention remains on him, brandished into something dangerous, like you’ll carve the answer out of him if you have to— but the moment passes. He doesn’t say anything and you accept that as the answer. Gone is your razor-sharp focus, and there is nothing more to the matter. 
But Jonathan doesn’t register this, no, he’s thinking, gears in his head turning and creaking. His tongue grazes against the backs of his teeth, jaw chattering like it was as cold as it was when… as cold as it was back then, and he doesn’t want to tell anyone— but it’s you. You’re not just anyone. 
You’re the one he holds a certain softness for. The one he equally bares his heart to and holds the most secrets from. The one he’s most terrified to know. The only one he wants to know. 
So, he decides to tell a partial truth— something digestible. People adore that which can easily slide down the gullet: news headlines don���t detail the goriness of a murder, they give the “insider” scoop of the scared neighbor. To be able to digest information is what makes the world go round, and he does not think you could digest the full truth-- he does not think he wants you to. 
He feels ill at the thought of anything between you changing— oh, how ruined he’d feel if you began treating him like fucking glass.
This abhorrent social pressure is what makes Jonathan grit this sentence through his teeth: “I got into a car accident,” he gulps dry, “when I was nineteen. Was drunk… went fer a spin. I skidded off a -- um, an empty highway. The tall sorts; high up, y’know. Fell.”
His voice makes you look back up at him, and your eyes are beautiful and tense— it breaks his heart. He knows you’re probably thinking it was in-character, how expected that is of Jonathan Breech, how you’ll easily take this partial truth, how you’ll never know the full one until it comes in a letter under your door and he’s long gone. 
“Tell me,” you ask him, lips falling into a near-frown instead of laughing or grinning wider. It’s hushed, whispered like a secret, “What did it feel like? Falling, I mean.”
Jonathan licks his lips, bores his shaking gaze into your own, and tells you not everything feels like something else. That the word connotes all you need to know. Falling meant he was falling; his arms raised and the air took him and that was it. 
It makes your brows twist and your lips press into a thin line: his nonchalance is worrying, no more his signature characteristic— there is something wrong about this apathy toward injury, toward the potential death. 
“Is that how you broke your finger?” You murmur, and it startles him. How you pieced the two things together, how you weaved a web from what little you knew about him; how futile his attempts to hide could be.
“What?” he responds, hoarse. There is a lurking shadow in his bones telling him he’ll taint you, telling him to be ashamed, telling him how badly you will never be his. It is such a damning reality, that no matter how much he may yearn for you, he is too incomplete to meet your needs; he is too hurt not to hurt you too. 
“The car accident. Is that how you broke your pinkie?” you repeat, and you gripped his hand resting at your side, bringing it up to present the finger to him like he forgot where his pinkie was. 
Jonathan’s gaze darts from you to the finger, and he feels his insides quiver; so badly does he want to spill his entire soul to you. But that internal reminder -- hurt people hurt people hurt people -- makes him settle for nodding, parted lips locking closed. 
Nothing special happens that night, no shocking revelation or bombarded confession; Jonathan nods, keeps his lips sealed, and gets up from the couch, figure dreary and fatigued. He murmurs an incomplete excuse, something half-baked and blatantly unconvincing that he has to leave, and you let him go. You think you’re imagining the shudder in his shoulders, the shake in his voice as he says goodbye, and you let him go. 
It’s there, like that club so long ago, you discover another thing about Jonathan Breech: push too far and he shuts down, closes shop and puts up his guard forever. It’s the mere fact of how attentive you are to his words; you remember how he broke his finger, and he realizes he cannot hide from you any longer. 
You’re reaching a point in your friendship -- your relationship, no matter platonic or romantic for all lines have been crossed; nobody is so raw to one another with love not involved -- where you’ll bare your hearts on your sleeves, share your every thought and dream and fear. But Jonathan won’t be able to reciprocate, and the very thought of rejecting you, betraying you, makes his stomach twist in knots. That crestfallen face of yours would haunt him for all time, your every melancholy feature burning into his memory like the scars left by cigarettes on skin.
So he leaves, hurt people hurt people hurt people echoes in his ears all the way home; he turns into an alleyway shortcut and prays death swoops down and takes him right there. He leaves his consciousness curled lovingly in your arms; his shell walks home and prays you’re none the wiser. But you’ve already reached that point in your relationship; you already know. 
When people die, or friendships do, sometimes they end with just a goodbye, a mild, casual goodbye because you think there’ll be dozens, hundreds more-- but there won’t be. Suddenly, alone in that cramped apartment, the buzzing from the tv filling your ears, your couch still warm from someone long gone, you know.
You know you startled him, that he’s left your apartment and he’ll never come back. Your heart cools, and she whispers that you took it too far, that you crossed a line you were never made aware of, that when you see him in class tomorrow he might not sit next to you, he might not talk to you, that you might lose him forever because he is too stubborn to open up and you are too stubborn to let him go. 
Well, you were too stubborn to let him go. 
It’s three weeks before you speak to Jonathan again. Three long, dragging weeks, moments in time where he avoided your gaze, evaded your presence, slipped past you before you got too close. You certainly try, of course— you seek him out every chance you get, trying to get an I’m sorry, please talk to me out before he runs off, but it’s virtually impossible.
Once, after class, you’d caught him in the middle of a flurry of exiting students by the velvet blazer, your hands curled around the lapel. “Jonathan,” you panted, trying to drag him off to the side to escape the bustling activity around you, “please, we need to talk--“
But then Jonathan had faced you, eyes widened and spooked like he’d seen a ghost, a never-before-seen-by-you fear covering his gracefully cut features, before he tugged off the black blazer and escaped into the crowd. He had seen you, widened his eyes, left. Such a simple action tore your heart in two; it had confirmed your suspicions— you’d gone too far, he was never coming back, and you were all alone. There you stood, fingers wrapped around one of his favorite articles of clothing starkly without its beloved owner, completely alone. 
In three measly weeks, he has put up a biting winter of distance between you two. 
Your feelings are unable to comprehend themselves— they fight and sob and run circles around your mind, they make you doubt, crumble, devour yourself from the inside out; they make you ask yourself what you can do to salvage this, what can you do to fix this? What is there to make of him, of his behavior; what do you do with yourself and this guilt?
If you could imagine time was a construct, you were certain you could convince yourself this stretch of time was nothing… propel yourself into a present where Jonathan does not afflict your mind, take over your every thought— does not ruin you like so. If only you could do that, you could close your eyes and reopen them when you’ve let go. But you were always too stubborn to let him go, weren’t you?
It’s three weeks to the day before you speak to Jonathan again, and it happens through the crack of his dorm door, your arm wedged through it because you know he is not cruel; he will let you in without a doubt.  
“Please,” you plead to Jonathan, “just— I just want to talk. Please?”
He stares at you straight, expression cold and reserved, before he breaks and pulls away; bites his lip, lets you in his room, doesn’t look you in the eye. Looking around, you sense something in his dorm has changed; it had gained a bereft quality, like it was attuned to Jonathan’s state of mind and felt depressed beyond your comprehension. There was a cold air to the place, an utmost frigid demeanor to a room incredibly warm just weeks prior. In your absence, the dorm had been neglected, gutted, abandoned. 
“I’m sorry,” are the first words that tumble out of your mouth. “I- I know you don’t like… talking about -- about your life before here, and I’m sorry. But please, Jonathan, just talk to me. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”
He sits down on the edge of his weak bedframe, pulling his knees up and pressing his face into them. “You don’t need to-- don’t… don’t apologize. You don’t need t’make it better, either. All’s grand.” he promises, words muffled and shaky. It’s a weeping kind of tone; you could just as easily imagine him sobbing with that voice. 
Your brows knit. Your emotions are wavering, treading brutally between disbelief, despair and rancor. “Then -- then why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you avoid me? Why did you - why did we spend these last three weeks playing cat and mouse, if you weren’t mad at me? Is this your sick idea of a joke?”
“No! I-- jesus christ,” Jonathan looked up from his hands before immediately pressing two fingers between his eyes, “I wasn’t … avoiding you.”
“I haven’t seen you in weeks!” you point out painfully, exasperated. “You know, you’ve been avoiding me for longer than this. You— you push me away any chance you get. You’re afraid. I don’t know of what, but you’re- so fucking secretive, and it’s tearing me apart.”
“I’m not - afraid of anything. I’m just a private person— you know this. Would you, if I ‘pushed you away?!’” 
At his denying deflection, something within you snaps: “Why won’t you - fucking let me in? I’ve — I’ve bared my soul to you; you know me from the inside out. I trust you with my life— why, why can’t you do the same?”
“I didn’t ask you to do that! And I didn’t — I didn’t mean t’get so close to you, okay?!” He bursts, and you flinch. His hands shakily come up to his face once more; he wipes roughly but it’s no use— you’ve already seen his delicate tears threatening to spill, and it burns more holes in your heart than you thought his suffering would.
“What are you talking about?” you pry, now without any cautious reservations about his demeanor.
“I didn’t mean to get so fucking attached, because - ‘cause I…” Jonathan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, “fuck.”
“What?” you repeat, but it’s softer, concerned; how quickly his body language shifted from irritated to terrified has you scrambling to support him. “Talk to me,” you ask, taking nervous steps closer, like you were approaching a wounded animal.
He sucks in a sharp breath, and holds it, like he did cigarette smoke, before exhaling heavily. “Okay- okay. When I was - nineteen, I drove a car… I drove off a cliff and tried t’kill myself. I was-- admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a year, and when I got out I moved here f’school. I- I… promised m’self I wouldn’t let anyone get too close.”
The confession hangs in the air, a lonely little thing; it’s a bleeding piece of his own heart he’s plucked and placed in your palms. He shudders, and you want to nurture it like nothing else. This is a culmination of a year’s worth of evasion coming to a close; you’re seeing him completely, rawly, for the first time.
“But- but why? You don’t have to— Jonathan, you don’t need to do that just because you - you… y’know.”
“I’m- I know that,” he starts brashly, defensively. “It’s b’cause I am very, very aware of my - of m’own self destructiveness…” His words taper off into something of grief; the Sisyphean struggle of wanting to live, while that depressive boulder pushes him back, colors him completely. “I just… I didn’t want to - t’hurt anyone in case I -- in case next time I succeeded.”
“Next time?” you repeat, and your voice broke in a way you wish was less vulnerable, less blatantly miserable.
“This is why I didn’t want to—“ Jonathan sighs, deflates, “I’m not telling you this because I want you to - t’fucking save me, okay? I’m telling you this because you wanted to know, and I couldn’t hide from you anymore. Because you asked.”
“You didn’t need t’hide it in the first place!” you exclaimed, coming closer to him. “You’ve never had to hide a fucking ‘ting from me.”
“You wouldn’t have understood!” He said back, volume nearing a shout. “You’ll treat me differently now, you see, you’ll look at me fuckin’ different—“
It made your heart sink-- how sure his words were, how certain he was of your rejection. How little trust did he have in you? 
(You remember he wanted to sink, too-- lose himself in the baby blue sea; let it swallow him whole and never be seen again.)
“You - you really think I’ll treat y’differently because of this? You know my every crevice, my every thought-- I have never once doubted that you’ll accept me.”
“I-I… why should I - expect any of this to stay the same?”
Suddenly, you took his face into your hands. “Because I-- I fucking love you, okay? And it’s not just friendly, or romantic, even if it’s both— I’m… I love you like nothing I’ve ever loved before. I accept and adore your every skill and flaw and antic; you wormed your way into my heart and I want to worm my way into yours.”
“That doesn’t mean—“ Jonathan tried to interject, a noise all utter disbelief. You cut him off, though, continuing your sudden confession; you hadn’t been privy to these own romantic feelings of yours till moments prior, but everything being said just felt right. 
“Jonathan, I don’t care if you drove a car off a cliff or cyanide-poisoned our professor or blew something up, because I love you. You, with all your problems and great, big, beautiful life. All I want is for you to want that life; I want you to want me in it. I feel it in my bones that I’m meant to love you; you are meant to be my home, you are everything I am supposed to know. It won’t fix you or fix anything at all but I just need you to know-- I need you to know the why to my every action. It’s because I love you.”
He looked up at you, wide-eyed, head resting in your gentle hold. “I - don’t know what to say… are you - for real?”
“As real as can be,” you smiled back at him, tracing circles along his smooth skin; you could’ve drank in that attentive stare of his for hours upon hours. “I love you, and nothing and no-one, not even you, can change that.” An aching grip had clenched around your heart at his words, that blatant disbelief: are you for real? God, had you ever been-- had you ever fucking been. 
Jonathan’s mouth opened to speak, but instead, he let out an agonizing sort of cry; an exclamation of utter surprise at the loving acceptance. Then, he hesitantly leaned into your touch, as if he’d never hugged before, wrapping his arms around your waist to snatch you as close to him as possible. He held you tighter and tighter as the seconds went by, like this was all a mocking dream his yearning mind had made up; that if he closed his eyes now he’d wake up desolate, alone, without you for eternity. His worst nightmare. 
“…God, I’m so - fucking stupid,” he grumbled, sounding angry, but you could feel vulnerable, hot tears soaking into the fabric of your shirt. “To assume you, of all people, would act that way… you of all people.” He said that tenderly; you of all people certainly meant miles more things you weren’t explicitly aware of, but you still felt the sentiment. “I’m not -- poetic or anything like that… but I love you, too.”
You chuckled a beautiful, wet laugh. “You don’t hafta’ say anything sweet or special. You’re everything to me.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling you onto the mattress with him. He flipped you beneath him, and held himself up by the forearms laying on either side of your head. “Fuck, I love you. I love you.” Jonathan repeated the words several more times, strange and foreign but right at home being said to you. Like his mouth was made to only ever say I love you to you. 
Suddenly, you pressed your lips to his, shutting him up momentarily. You could still feel the vibrations of I love you rumbling in his throat as you kissed him. Your tongues danced along one another, an all consuming waltz; you wanted to know everything about him, down to the taste of his tongue, memorize how sweet his mouth felt on yours. Oh, how you longed for this moment; how could you ever think about love again, and yearn for it, without thinking of Jonathan?
You reckoned that’s what this had been the whole time; your love started as a little flame, something under the guise of friendship, but the two of you had fanned it, nurtured it-- all of a sudden the miniature warmth of platonic love burst into a raging, adoring fire. You’d fed this flame with tenderness, and it responded in kind; you could never again look at Jonathan without a certain intimate reverie. Perhaps that’d been why Jonathan found it so hard to cut off this relationship as he had dozens others: something primal and unconscious within him had begged him not to let you go— some higher being knew his home was only ever in your arms. 
Jonathan deepened the kiss hungrily, pressing his weight onto you and pushing you into the mattress. Your head was spinning from the lack of air, and one of your hands had to sneak beneath his hat and tug at his hair to get him to stop. “Hey,” you panted, looking worriedly into his eyes, “what’s up?”
“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, hanging his head lowly for a moment before meeting your gaze once more, batting his long lashes. “Jus’ missed you. Thas’ all.”
“Missed y’too,” you murmured, pulling him back down to kiss you again. Your hands left the crown of his head and trailed down his backside, tracing over the curves and bumps of his frumpy yellow v-neck sweater. 
That touch of yours seemed to spur him on even more, and his kisses began to travel; along your jaw, to your pulse, down the long ravine of your neck, tongue darting out to lick the hollow of your collarbone, making you squeal. He chuckled against your skin, a genuine amusement rather than the mocking one you two so frequently practiced, and it all went downhill from there. His hands skillfully tugged off your tank top, knee between your clenched thighs, more teasing kisses being planted along your now bare -- save for your bra -- chest.
You didn’t mean to come over, profess your love and suddenly jump into a steamy, yearning makeout session (which, you were pretty sure was venturing off into sex…) but you supposed that apologizing— arguing, whatever —meant your relationship went back on track to wherever it was heading… which may have been set to end with an ardor romance anyway. This love of yours would’ve bursted at the seams of friendship; it could not be confined by such mere things as labels. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, arching into his teasing kisses along the peaks of your breasts, his hands ghosting around your clothed chest but never touching. “Please, Jon.”
You could feel his cheeky grin on your skin, “Tell me what you want, love.”
“…Take this off,” you demanded gently, referring to Jonathan’s sweater.
“Your wish is my command.” he snickered, obliging and removing the yellow knit-- as well as his white undershirt and pajama bottoms. He was left in a pair of boxer-shorts and that silly, silly winter-trapper hat, his fingers sneaking up to your supple thighs and tickling the edges of your jean-shorts; a silent plea. 
“Eager,” you mumbled, noticing his over-compliance in completely stripping, smiling and guiding his hands to the waistband of your shorts to tug the tight article off. 
When he did so, you shivered, both at the feeling of being only in your underwear, as well as Jonathan’s sharp, attentive gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he panted, eyes exploring your every sweet feature. 
He was enamored with your bare body, not in a sexual way despite the blatantly sexual situation, but rather in a worshiping, religiously devoted way. It may’ve been blasphemous to think so, but Jonathan’s sudden chaste kisses along the curve of waist only seemed to prove you right; his mouth on you was gentle, like he’d held you before, except now without any guilt or hesitation. It was a holy way of loving you; something all-consuming, becoming the epicenter of a life, becoming the purpose, motivation, and belief all at once. 
That familiar broiling in your gut occurred as he made his way closer to the pulsing, lace-covered place between your legs; your hands were gripping the sheets tightly in pure anticipation, his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “Don’t be such a tease,” you pouted, legs fumbling for purchase along his body, trying to pull him closer to you.
“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he hummed, but his fingers still curled into the band of your baby-blue panties and dragged them down in one desperate go, “but I do wanna taste you….”
Jonathan’s veiny hands pried your quivering thighs apart, murmuring an offhand already stole y’panties, don’t get all shy on me now when you whimpered flusteredly, before he descended on your dripping lips, licking a flat-tongued stripe up to your clit. 
You gasped at the sudden action, but it quickly morphed into a choked moan when he pressed himself further and parted your lips, nose to your pelvic bone; he made quick work of you, artfully curling his long tongue into your hole and slurping your slick. 
“So sweet,” he praised, the vibrations of his voice making your thighs clench around his head. He hummed in amusement at your reaction, lapping you up quicker; he kitten-licked and slobbered, feeding on your sticky cunt, tongue darting in every direction, feeling your walls and prying deeper into your hot hole, which ached for the cock straining against the mattress now. The bottom half of Jonathan’s face was now positively soaked, glistening with his own drool and your needy wetness, all of it mixing dirtily and sliding down the length of his neck. 
“Jon!” you mewled, hands tearing off his trapper hat and flinging it elsewhere before curling your hands into his mousy brown hair and pushing his face deeper into your pussy, desperate to come. You were riding his face now — or, attempting to, more accurately bucking up into him — adoring his unceasing ministrations. He was basically fucking you with his tongue, overstimulating your clit with teasing licks then pulling away, feeling along the ridges of your walls.
“Pick m’hat up later, love,” he tutted, pulling away slightly to see where you’d haphazardly thrown it, and your desperate whine neared a sob. He breathed in sharply, taking in how quickly he’d undone you: in a matter of minutes, your expression had grown wanton, eyes blown out, drooling, hair askew, bra riding up your tits and revealing your sweet, puffy nipples. 
Jonathan quickly forgot about the state of his beloved hat, and went back down on you, mouth devouring in full force once again. You rolled your hips forward, and when he pulled his tongue out of your wet hole to suckle softly on your fleshy nub, your eyes rolled back into your head and your legs shook around his face, toes curling tightly. A choked moan left you alongside the sudden climax, sounding a hundred percent pornographic and all for him. 
You panted, silent and unmoving for a moment, and Jonathan began moving to get up and let you take a breather before continuing, absolutely terrified to push you too far or do anything you didn’t want to do— he was the spontaneous one, and you were the responsible one, but that didn’t mean he ever wanted to force anything upon you. His simultaneous decisions were made mostly in part with your interests in mind; he made the decisions you were too nervous and over-thinking to choose quicker. 
However, you took a long breath, then trailed your hand over the painfully noticeable bulge within his soft boxers. “Wan’… make you feel good,” you murmured, flattening your hand against his erection. 
Jonathan inhaled sharply, pitifully affected by the minor touch but holding back with an incredible amount of self restraint. “I can wait,” he offered sweetly, one of his hands coming up to your flattened hand’s forearm to rub the skin. 
You shook your head foggily, cupping him through the fabric, slowly adding friction by sliding your hand up and down. 
“S-shit,” he bit his lip, “you want this now, baby?”
You nodded vehemently with a whimper, and to make more of a point, you reached behind and unclasped your bra, tossing it elsewhere on his dirty dorm floor, before beginning to slip off his underwear. 
The hand on your arm stopped you, though, in favor of doing it himself and pressing his weight further onto you, your chests flush with one another. You were only able to take in thin breaths, making your head spin, but it also amplified the  arousal blooming in your cunt when Jonathan slotted himself at your soaking entrance, collecting his saliva and your slick on his tip. 
Before he pushed in, however, his head dipped into the hollow of your neck, plush lips brushing past the shell of your ear. “Is this okay?” he murmured, pressing a wet kiss to your temple. 
“Please,” you whined, hands pushing flat on his back to bring him closer to you.
With that, Jonathan slowly buried his length within your cunt, making your breath hitch. “I love you,” he groaned, entering you inch by inch, relishing how your warmth swallowed him whole. “Fuck, I love you so much.”
Your hole was stuffed beyond belief, but Jonathan was gentle with you, caressing your waist with the rough pads of his fingers and massaging you, trying to ease his entrance into something painless. Obviously, with that length and thickness it couldn’t be painless at all, but his attempts helped your mind drift off elsewhere and take some of the attention off the stinging stretch. 
After a long moment of ragged breathing, Jonathan cooing words of praise into your neck as he kissed you without moving, you dug your fingers into the skin of his back: “More,” you choked out, the fullness in your cunt now feeling delicious rather than cringeworthy. 
He smirked against your skin, “Looks like you’re t’eager one now.”
“Oh, get on with it,” you rasped and he let out a low chuckle, sliding out of your hole before thrusting back in. That first movement already made your hips jerk up into him, back arching. It was like all the warmth in your body had collected in your cunt, leaving you freezing from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, but still with a needy, burning fire in your insides. 
Jonathan’s pace was affectionate and rhythmic: you could feel the tenderness in his each and every gentle roll of the hips. It made you feel like the sun, how attentive he was, but he was also so fucking slow. If anything, that had your walls clenching onto him harder than if he hammered into you— that slow build-up of friction was dizzying. You squirmed, cunt clenching and contracting around his smooth thrusts— you wanted to take him within you completely, cause more friction for you were going stir-crazy with this lazy speed. 
“F-fuck! Faster, please,” you cried out, unable to take his sensual movements any longer. Your legs were twitching with his patient movements, and you could’ve sworn you saw a cheeky grin on his lips. The bastard— even in sex was he teasing you, wanting to torture you until you gave in to the pleasure and begged him to ruin you.  
Sure, this was your first time together, and was going extremely pleasantly and sweetly, but you were actually pretty fond of the idea of letting him pound into you like there was no tomorrow… 
At the lewd thought, your walls pulsed around his cock, making him buck up unintentionally, hitting that sweet spot within you. He grunted at the feeling of your tightened cunt, while you cried out his name, pleasure running like a current through your body. Your face was on fire, reminiscent of a raging fever, and your insides were coiling— god, how did his cock just feel so perfect within you?
“Oh,” he grinned in a pant, “found y’spot, didn’t I?”
Jonathan didn’t give you a chance to speak before he pulled out so far his tip was the only thing in your hole, before slamming back in and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Props to him-- he hit your g-spot with utmost accuracy, and you let out a long, stuttered mewl, scratching at his freckled back, legs twitching. Your wail was almost catatonic, loud and cock-drunk, dripping unabashed, filthy pleasure. 
“Makin’ such sweet noises f’me,” he praised huskily, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, “fuck, ‘ve gotta hear that again.”
He must’ve noticed your neediness earlier, when he was slow and languid, for the new speed he set was double- no, triple that: his hips were snapping against yours, balls smacking filthily against your lips, left hand pinning your hips down and letting him sink into you faster. Shocks of pleasure tore through you at the sudden increase in speed- he’d inured you so well to the torturously slow pace from earlier that this new frenzied one felt like getting hit by a bullet train. You were overstimulated and needing more of him all at once, practically vibrating with need under his touch. 
“I’ve- hnngh- wanted this…” you gasped between moans, “f-for so long…”
“Wanted m’cock?” Jonathan questioned in a hiss, feeling with his every inch how your walls absolutely soaked him. His tone was, obviously, sarcastic, but it still made you feel incredibly lewd. 
You shook your head numbly, “Wanted you… I love you, Jon!”
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he purred, fucking you faster and making you writhe beneath him, “love you s’much.”
Jonathan targeted the spongy, swollen spot deep within your cunt, suddenly filled with a renewed vigor and motivation to make you come as quickly as possible, and he pounded into that one, specific spot, watching how you twitched and squirmed, heavy moans exiting you. He was relentless, hands reaching to hook under your knees and spread you wider. 
At the new angle, his cock penetrated you even deeper, fuller, which you thought wasn’t possible with how goddamn full you already felt, but when his thick cockhead brushed up against your cervix you thought you were going to burst. Then, one of his hands came up to your tits to knead the flesh, and you squeaked when he tweaked your soft nipples. He was pawing at your sweet tits, fondling you in a needy, boyish way, like yours were the first pair of boobs he’d ever felt. 
“M’close!” you gasped, mind going fuzzy with pure ecstacy. Your skin prickled with goosebumps, cold  sweat running down your spine, a terribly stark in contrast feeling to the warmth buzzing under your skin. 
“C-can’t last much longer either,” he choked, still pumping in and out of your sticky hole and savoring the feeling of your tight warmness on his long length. He looked absolutely exquisite above you, and you lost yourself in the ethereal picture. Maybe you were in love, or maybe he really was just an empyrean beauty; you took in the sight of his focussed iceberg blue eyes, the cute flush spreading along his pale cheeks and bare chest, how he bit his pink lips to muffle his needy grunts and moans. 
Then, you mewled and convulsed around him, your walls spasming and contracting as you came undone, reaching the precipice of your pleasure. That made him fall off the edge— you had tensed all over- all over, and Jonathan couldn’t help how his hips stuttered, knees buckled, cock twitched; he only gave one last, powerful thrust into you before spilling himself inside of you. He painted your soft walls white, and you felt that familiar heat spreading within you; you welcomed it completely, and wanted such warmth to be there forever. 
You milked him for every last drop, cunt like a vice grip, and Jonathan gave you another wet kiss, this time on your lips, and your hands wrapped around his neck, allowing you to kiss him back. Your brows knitted at the sour taste of yourself on his lips, but it just made everything feel so real— Jonathan and you had “made love”. It was a phrase you always wrinkled your nose at, feeling uncomfortable and juvenile at the intimacy it entailed, but now you understood it completely. 
“I love you,” you repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, unable to say anything else that conveyed what you felt for him. 
Honestly, you weren’t sure anything could accurately do so— you felt infinitely about him, your love touching all edges of your mind, heart and soul, filling you completely. You supposed you felt about Jonathan how the sun felt about the moon— without one, there could not be the other. 
“I love you-- too,” he responded, pausing in the middle at the aftershocks of your orgasm, which had caused you to tighten around his softening, sensitive cock for a second. 
You peered deep into his baby-blue eyes, watching the utter love that coloured them; it was like submerging yourself in a great blue ocean, except you didn’t want to come out, because you knew you wouldn’t drown in those eyes. No, you knew Jonathan would always be there to pull you out. 
Speaking of pulling out… Jonathan slipped himself out of you softly, careful not to agitate that first stretch any more than necessary, before collapsing back into your arms. The two of you tangled yourselves in a messy flurry of limbs on his cushy mattress, sweaty and breathy, something that should’ve been terribly uncomfortable but just wasn’t— you swore you could fall asleep anywhere, no matter your own state or the circumstance, as long as you were with him. 
Blearily, both your eyes began to droop, until you gave into the familiar presence of deep, dark sleep. It was a dreamless sleep for you, but you had an ever present comfort at his weight on yours, something you could feel even in unconsciousness. 
Hours later, in a brisk, shuddering early-morning that you felt all over due to Jonathan’s unruly habit of opening his window at the peak of the day’s hottest weather and forgetting to close it before cold nightfall fell, you awoke to Jonathan watching you carefully, so close you could feel his warm exhales of breath on your cheek. 
There was no goodmorning or anything like that, just pure, uninhibited being, reveling in the space you two occupied together. Like you two were the only things left in the world. 
When Jonathan noticed you woke up, he shifted, presumably to extract himself from your grip. You stopped him, though, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and bringing him closer to you.
“What did it feel like?” you asked instead, for the last time. You brushed your fingers over his scar, and, knowing exactly what you were asking, this time Jonathan doesn’t flinch away. This time, he leans into your touch: it doesn’t burn, not anymore, and he wants your tenderness to swallow him whole. 
You didn’t mean what it actually felt like, of course. You meant, what were you thinking? What have you done, and what will you do to yourself? You meant, I love you.
“It felt like,” falling; not everything feels like something else; I raised my arms and the air took me and that was it-- “it felt like… giving in. Letting my desperation find its purpose. It felt like I’d reached a point of peace… gained clarity after a long stretching, wounded moment came to an end. It felt like becoming something only meant to be talked about in past tense.”
You don’t say anything to that; you know he doesn’t want you to. There’s no need for you to hush or plead or make better, you just need to listen, and love him. He knows you accept him for everything he is, all his flaws and his strengths; he knows your love is all accepting- it veers on saintly. 
At your silence, he melts into your arms and you can finally relax; there is an admission in the action, a release, an acknowledgement -- is suffering in silence not also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found? -- you have found him, at last, and you will never, ever let go.
You take it too far, just once. Only once. And you let him go just once, only once; never again. 
716 notes · View notes
twilghtkoo · 9 months
Note
have you seen the tiktok of a girl who made her boyfriend a little sprout to put on his gaming headset ??? its so cute and reminded me of hyuck 🤏🏻
pairings. streamer!haechan x reader (f)
genre. fluff
note. STOP RN ANON i haven’t seen that tiktok but i’ve seen some where ppl make a lil sprout bc a few months ago i crocheted me a sprout for my headphones 😭 but THIS IS SO CUTE BC HAECHAN WOULD LOVE IT thank u for sending me this,,,, here’s another streamer/gamer hyuck drabble
[ haechan masterlist | masterlist ]
“i play val a few times but i prefer overwatch, they’re both enjoyable but overwatch is better in a lot of ways, for me personally. but if i’m in the mood for a tense flick-type game, then i play val.” haechan answers a comment, as he’s waiting in the game queue.
he’s sitting relaxed in his gaming chair as he watches the comments fill in. some disagree with him and some agree.
“which one does yn like? she likes overwatch more, she likes that there’s a more wide range of characters than val. she’s not really into fps games, she says they’re too intense for her.” he chuckles at that. “she only plays overwatch because i do and because she wanted to bond with me since it’s one of my favorite games. she’s cute,” he mumbles the last sentence, grinning as he continues reading numerous comments from his viewers.
chat is going crazy at the mention of you.
he’s about to read another comment before you quietly knock on his door, he whips his head around to see you carefully peeking your head through the crack of the door.
you have a sheepish smile, knowing he’s streaming and you didn’t want to bother him but you also have something you really wanted to show him.
haechan doesn’t seem to be bothered at all, because he smiles at you waving you inside.
“what’s up baby?” he slides one side of his headset off, letting you know he’s listening.
you make sure to stay out of the camera since you’re only wearing a t-shirt, one of his t-shirts to be exact. and the end of the shirt stop just below your butt.
you take your hand out from behind your back to reveal a green crocheted sprout.
“ooo, what’s this?” his eyes widen as he carefully takes it into the palm of his hands to closely examine it. he admires how neatly each chain is and how precise it is to a sprout. the two leaves shaped perfectly.
“i made this for you, it’s a sprout and it’s supposed to go on your headset.” you explain.
he spins his chair around to face you and he slides off his headset. “really? how, put it on for me.”
you lightly giggle as you take the headset from him to slowly loop the sprout around the top.
you squeal out of excitement but also taking pride at how good it came out. “see!”
“woah, baby this is so cute.” he gasps, putting his headset back on and looks at himself on the camera.
“chat, look what yn made me!” he shows off the top of his head, scooting closer to the camera that sits on top of his monitor and scooting back.
“hi chat!” you spoke up, finally greeting yourself to his viewers.
“it looks like a sprout is growing on top of my head,” he expresses. shaking his head left to right watching the sprout wiggle.
he rolls his chair a bit off camera to wrap his arms around your waist, squeezing you. “thank you, i love it. it’s staying on my headset.”
your arms circle around him before your hands curl around the back of his hair, softly tugging it. “you’re welcome, i’m gonna make me one now so we’re matching.”
you pat his back as he unwraps his arms around you and rolls back in front of his desk.
“bye chat!” you say out loud, as you’re at the door, blowing your boyfriend a kiss before leaving.
user i just want what they have
986 notes · View notes
alastor-simp · 7 days
Text
Birthday Boy🥳 - Angel Dust x Female Reader Part 1/2
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❥Warning- This contains some inappropriate subjects, so if you underage and reading this, Please skip it.
❥Summary- It's April 1st, which means its Angels birthday today!! The whole hotel planned a birthday party for him to celebrate. You have a gift for him, but you wanted to give it to him later....in private😏
❥Tags - Angel Dust, Flirting, Teasing, Fluff, Lingerie, Cosplay, Eventual Smut, Birthday Surprise, Mentions of Sexual Toys
❥Notes - Here is the sexy spider birthday smut you guys wanted. This will be split into 2 parts. Hope you all enjoy it.
The plan was set! You were going to distract Angel with a nice little shopping trip, while Charlie and the others stayed at the hotel and get everything ready. Charlie made it very clear to keep Angel Dust away until 5 pm, since it was going to take a bit to decorate. Nodding your head, you assured her that you knew what to do and not to worry. Heading over to Angel's room, you knocked on his door yelling "GET UP LOSER. WE GOING SHOPPING!!" There was a loud thump that came from the other side, probably Angel falling off the bed from you yelling. It was quiet for a moment, until his door swung open. He was wearing a pink and white fluffy coat that matched with his black heels, while also sporting pink diamond shades on his face. His face was in a small scowl, as he was a bit upset that you woke him up like that, while also giving you a middle finger with one of his hands: "Jesus toots! Ya couldn't have just woken me up normally? Nearly gave me a dang heart attack." Laughing, you uttered an apology, while grabbing his hand, tugging him out of his room. He allowed you to drag him along, sporting a smile on his face as the both of you went down the hallway, heading to the main entrance of the hotel.
As the both of you exited, you turned your head to see Charlie and Vaggie giving you a thumbs up, as you turned back and walked out the door. Heading into the city was a tad bit difficult, especially since walking next to Angel, a famous porn star, there was bound to be a few stares and wolf whistles here and there. Angel was paying them no mind, as he wanted to enjoy this little outing with you and not deal with the bullsh✪✪ and also get his mind away from work for once. The mall in hell was similar to ones on Earth, just a bit more run down and lacking the usual charm. Still it had stores and a food court, so it was better then nothing. Angel ran at high speed to the clothes stores, dragging you along by the arm. The both of you just explored around, trying on multiple outfits that suited the both of you best, along with taking selfies of each other. Angel looked good in practically anything that he tried on. He could come out of the dressing room in a plain shirt and jeans, and he have you gagging in awe.
The next store the both of you went to seemed more up Angel's alley. "Devils Secret" was what the large neon sign said. Upon entering in, you quickly realized it was a lingerie store. "Aww yeah! This is where its at!" Angel said, as he threw his four arms up into the air in excitement. You, however, were feeling a bit flustered, as stores like this always made you a bit red in the face. Angel had already disappeared from your view, most likely grabbing all the most seductive ones he could find. Not really interested at the pieces, you just walked around, observing everything.
One area of the store was hidden behind a large black curtain. Curious, you walked past and immediately flushed at what you saw. Behind the curtain was an assortment of intimate cosplays, along with various sexual toys like vibrators, hand cuffs and butt plugs. “No wonder this place was hidden by a curtain” you thought. Wouldn’t hurt to look around. There was a wide selection of cosplay outfits hanging, ranging from police officer to sexy nurse. You knew if Angel saw this, he would buy everything in here. Skimming through everything, your eyes caught the look of something interesting. It wasn’t anything extreme, but it was very detailed and seductive. Your thoughts immediately thought of Angel and his birthday, causing a smirk to appear on your face: “Perfect.”
You quickly bought it and threw it in the other shopping bags you had, to hid it from Angels eyes, as you went to look for him. Having found him standing in front of the dressing room mirror, you watched him as he struck many poses, making you blush. “Which one of makes me look sexier toots? This one or the other?” The one he was wearing was a floral embroidered bra and thong, that came with a garter belt while the other was a black satin babydoll mesh top. Smiling you shook your head, saying he looked sexy in anything he wore, earning a blush from him. Shaking his head, he gave a smirk back, "You know it baby!" and proceeded to head back into the dressing room to change out of it.
Checking the time on your phone, you saw that it was one hour from 5 pm, which was enough time for you to head back to the hotel for the surprise party. You texted Charlie to let her know you were coming back soon, so she had some time to double check everything. "Hey toots? Who ya texting?" Angel asked, as he was walking next to you, four of his arms holding shopping bags. You quickly put your phone away so he wouldn't see the text and came up with a good excuse. "Oh it was Charlie. She said something urgent happened at the hotel and she wants us to come back." Angel seemed to have bought the lie and gave a nod, as the both of you walked out of the mall.
**Back at the hotel**
"Ohhh finally! My legs are aching from walking all day." Angel groaned, as he walked closer to the hotel doors. "Maybe don't wear those long heels next time." You laughed out, earning another groan from Angel. "Hey! Leave my heels out of it." Angel responded back, as he opened the doors to the hotel. The hotel was pitch black inside, and no one was around the lobby, causing Angel to widen his eyes in concern. "Woah where the f✪✪✪ is everybody?!" Angel walked closer inside, with you following behind him. As you closed the door, the lights blasted on and a loud bang erupted in the room, causing confetti to fly everywhere. "SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!" Everybody had popped out of their hiding places, wearing big smiles and sporting birthday hats. Angel screamed when that happened, grabbing onto his chest to calm him down. "AHHHH! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" Charlie had run up to Angel, and gave him a giant bear hug. "ITS YOUR SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY ANGEL!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" Her face was wearing a large smile, sparkles shining in her eyes. Angel paused at that and looked at everyone and the decorations, plus the large pink and black themed cake that was on one of the tables.
"Oh shit...I." Angel's face went blank, apparently still in shock, Everyone including you noticed his expression, wondering why he seemed a bit sad. No one said a word, but Alastor was the one to break the silence: "My dear effeminate fellow! Have you forgotten the day of your own birth?" Alastor walked up closer, head tilted to the side, wearing his signature smile. Angel just shook his head, one of his hands going up to wipe his eyes. Oh he was crying, you looked at him with concern and placed a hand on his back, giving it a rub. "No I didn't forget, Smiles. I....I didn't think any of you guys would actually care about it, let alone remember it." Awwws erupted from everyone, as they all ran and gave Angel a hug, except Alastor, but he at least placed a hand on Angels shoulder. Angel laughed while he continued to wipe his tears: "Okay okay get offa me. The sappy stuff is over, now its time to get this party started! Angel bumped his fists into the air in enthusiasm, followed by everyone else yelling out a "YEAH!"
The party had finally started. Everyone gathered around the cake and sang happy birthday to Angel. After that was done, and some of the cake was given out, it was time to present the birthday gifts. Charlie had gotten Angel tickets to the aquarium in hell. Vaggie had bought a makeup set and new sunglasses. Niffty had made a little outfit for Angels pet pig, Fat Nuggets. Husk had bought him some shot glasses that were in the shape of dic✪✪. Alastor had used his powers to make a vinyl record that contain all of Angel's favorite songs. Sir Pentious actually crafted a new weapon for Angel to use for any upcoming battle/turf war. Cherri bomb had gotten two matching spray painted T-shirts that said "Partners in Crime." It was your turn next, but you told them that Angel's present was in his room and you were gonna show it to him later.
The party was soon calming down after that, and everyone was either tipsy or passed out drunk from all the celebratory cheers they did. "I think it's time to head to bed now everyone." Vaggie had lifted Charlie up and walked back to their room. Sir Pentious egg bois had lifted the drunken snake and dragged him towards the bedroom. Alastor was swaying a bit, and his cheeks were a bit red, but he was still a bit alert. He lifted up Niffty into his arms, and used his powers to place Husk on the lobby couch, and make a blanket appear on top of him. He bid both you and Angel a good night, while he headed down the hallway to bring Niffty to her room. Cherri was knocked out on the other side of the couch next to Husk, you were honestly surprised considering how many shots she could knock back and not be buzzed at all, but probably all the celebrations and fooling around made her reach her limit.
Angel grabbed another blanket and placed it on top of her, wearing a soft smile. He then turned back towards you, grabbing one of your hands and headed up towards his room. His room was illuminated in a neon pink, giving off a very intimate atmosphere. His precious Fat Nuggets was sleeping on his back on the bed, making it easy for Angel to give him a belly rub. Heaving a sigh, Angel flopped against the bed, having removed his top, letting his chest floof pop out and his heels, exposing his spider-like shaped feet. He removed his bottoms too, letting his red thong flash at you, making you blush and lick your lips "Soooo?, Are you ready for my gift~?" You sensually walked closer to him on the bed, maneuvering your body to place yourself over on top of him. His pink eyes widen at your position on him, before he smirked and moved his hands to pull you a bit closer, hands caressing your soft body. "More than ready, baby~. What ya get me?" He spoke in a soft whisper, giving you goosebumps, as his hands kept massage your body, making it harder for you to focus and not melt into the pleasure. "I'll bring it out, but first close your eyes for me." Angel raised an eyebrow at that, before he shrugged and closed his eyes.
Angel felt you get off the bed, and heard the sound of the his bathroom door opening and closing. He moved up on the bed, going from a laying position to a seating position, with his legs crossed. He honestly had not idea what you were going to give him and it left him feeling nervous and giddy at the same time. The room was silent, with the only sounds the could be heard was Angels breathing and the little oinks coming from Fat Nuggets sleeping on his own bed now, as Angel had moved him before. The sounds of the door opening, caused Angel to jump. He could hear the soft pattering of your feet, until they stopped and he felt movement on his bed. "Okay, open your eyes~." You softly said. Angel slowly opened his eyes, until they widen at the sight of you. You were sitting on his bed, wearing a red body bow, with the bow being placed to cover your tits and only a string covering your butt. Angel nearly drooled at the sight of you, while his lower half began to rise.
Your eyes gazed at him with desire, as you tilted your head at him cutely: "Well~?" You continued to stare at him, while he continued to look at you with wide eyes and mouth opened like a fish. Finally he spoke, cheeks flashing red. "Holy sh✪✪! W-when did ya? How did?" He continued to stutter, obviously still in shock at you. Giggling, you told him that you found this at the lingerie store the both of you went to, saying it was hidden from others, answering his question. Smirking, you laid back on the bed, staring seductively at Angel, while you crooked your finger at him. "Sooo~, does the birthday boy wanna open up his present?
**TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2**
Tag List:
@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi , @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @pawstrey , @futureittomainn , @christinaatyourservice92 , @littledolly2345 , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 , @mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow , @madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel , @ainsliemac , @sweet06tart , @nobuharashinyao , @aria-tempest , @fluffismystaplefood @darischerry , @nightmarenaya , @moonie123 , @yakultt-art , @ktssstuff , @blakedbeanss , @sweet06tart , @ihyperfixatedagain , @alastorssimp , @sadnessiscoldtea , @artemisandhunters , @crystalreads , @thereeallink , @justchillaine , @felice-jaganshi , @batmanmonstarr , @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @imacollasaltitan , @ask-theradio-demon , @lousypotatoes , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog , @crazed-flower
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bird-inacage · 2 months
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Love Sea the Series: Intro (First Impressions & Predictions)
Because I'm a huge over-analyser whose known for my lengthy BL essays - here are my takeaways from the very brief glimpse we got to Mahasamut and Tongrak. They gave us literally a 1 minute teaser, so as you can imagine, I'm filling in a lot of blanks at this stage.
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TONGRAK
Tongrak looks like he's going to be an unapologetic menace. A very sexy and sassy menace. He has an air of blasé indifference which screams 'yeah and so what?' you're not the boss of me'. Someone whose clearly a bit prickly, petulant and headstrong. Writers are often independent or even loners, as it's a very solitary field. They have a very strong vision of what they want, which can mean a reluctance to compromise.
I mentioned that he gives 'I know I'm hot shit' energy. He exudes a confident sexuality which is shown in how assertive he is when flirting and the smugness in how he retorts. He knows he's hot commodity and isn't afraid to flaunt it. Probably is used to having people wrapped around his little finger. 'We play by my rules, I decide if I want you or not'. At worst he may even see people around him as playthings.
Based on the general premise of the series, Tongrak comes to the seaside for inspiration. Uppity cosmopolitan city boy thrown in to the bohemian outdoors. He looks very noticeably out of place in this setting. But he may use that to his advantage, knowing others are looking at him, dazzled by a prince in the middle of literal nowhere.
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MAHASAMUT
Now what comes across most strongly about Mahasamut is that he's clearly very possessive. This is signposted multiple times in this brief introduction alone. He steals Tongrak away when he's flirting with someone else. He drags him by the wrist across the beach. I assume at this point they've not known each other long and he's being very handsy and grabby. He asserts that Tongrak 'will have to love him.' (Which could mean: I'll make you fall in love with me whether you like it or not, OR you falling in love with me is inevitable because I'm just too goddamn charming). Pretty presumptuous all the same.
This tells us that Mahasamut is equally self-assured. He has bags of confidence in his ability to keep Tongrak interested. Though he's being turned down, he doesn't appear dissuaded or phased in the slightest. Whether this is due to being generally a bit thick-headed, or putting on a front in order not to let Tongrak feel like he's won, is too early to say.
It's also worth noting that people who have such confidence in their conviction often haven't failed before. And there's a certain naivete in that. It's the whole 'through hard work and determination I can conquer all' mentality, which is not always the case.
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RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC
Now what really fascinates me about this collision of personalities is that these two are going to butt heads. A lot. Whether that's in a good-humoured tug of war, or a stubborn battle of wills. Tongrak is resistant in a 'I refuse to compromise' type of way. Mahasamut is persistent in a 'I refuse to let it go' type of way (like a dog with a bone). Neither wants to give in. Both are declaring, 'you're going to want me'.
So Tongrak and Mahasamut are not your typical match on paper. There will be fireworks (most likely good and bad). It'll probably take them much longer to find equal footing that goes beyond just sexual attraction or lust. This is why I've got a hunch the love scenes are going to pop off. We're going to get angry sex, I'm calling it now.
You could argue that Tongrak and Mahasamut do share some similarities with Sky and Prapai - particularly with the bickering and chasing - just dialled up to 100.
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OTHER OBSERVATIONS
ATMOSPHERE: The setting by the sea should prove to be a really interesting way of playing on tone. Watching those two interact whilst the wind blew around them, with the crashing of the waves in the distance was a whole mood.
CONTEXT: This feels leaps and bounds removed from the more grounded setting of Love in the Air. It almost feels like a summer fling. We're getting what appears to be a more adult backdrop, which I always greatly appreciate within the BL genre.
STYLING: Tongrak's outfits are going to murder me. The silky, drapey, billowy, low cut shirts with ample collarbone on show? CHRIST. Paired with the dainty jewellery. Kill me now.
Also, love the fact they were referring to each other as 'MISTER' and 'SIR'. Like SIR, DO YOU MIND? SIR, I'VE GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU. SOMETHING GOT YOU HOT AND BOTHERED, SIR?
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anpanham · 3 months
Text
Hazbin Hotel character thoughts / impressions (Episodes 1 & 2)
1/12/24
UM. what a weird first actual post for my blog for this year... this is long, and i miss making ACTUAL blog posts instead of small threads... And i've explained on my twitter my thoughts on Hazbin / Helluva from a critical standpoint and artist from art separation, yadda yadda yadda---
ANYWAY... Episodes 1 and 2 of Hazbin are (Officially) out now, and i have some thoughts on the characters i wrote down after watching (In bullet points, because most of these are fresh-from-the-brain thoughts i wrote on my tablet from my bed)
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(Spoiler alert, Sir Pentious isn't ruined and I AM SO GLAD. my snake babygirl... ilu)
Read on, if you wanna, spoiler warning btw!!!!!
CHARLIE NOTES
-Charlie is good., Charlie is cute, but i fear for her safety, not everyone can new redeemed. she's like steven universe at points i stg 😭 (not a jab but i think it's funny)
-i like how they gave Charlie bags under her eyes a lot, she is a tired princess just like all of us
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-She gives off elementary school teacher vibes but in a wholesome way
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-Charlie's hair is SO CUTE MESSY..
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-PERFECT voice /gen
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VAGGIE NOTES
-GIRLBOSS (still, but more)
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-Vaggie is still cool, she just loves her gf and is sick of everyone's bs but is still supportive...
-If she doesn't get into a bloody death match with Alastor (and win) i will be disappointed /hj
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She doesn't seem to have as much of a temper as she did in the pilot, but seems more dead inside
-Good voice!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ANGEL DUST NOTES
-Angel... hm. Angel. he's Angel, for sure. Hi, Angel!
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Insecure about a lot, but also YOU CAN BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT!!!!! if vox doesn't kill val angel should. please and thank u.
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Also his voice is alright, just need to get used to it a little more
Also i hope he's not too bratty jealous of sirpent / whoever else charlie praises because again, it's ON HIM TO COOPERATE WITH HER CAUSE MORE??? ignoring his other stress sources (Val)
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-Waiting for him and Husk to kiss. I know it's coming
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-Just fucking block Val's number and rip up the contract (YES i know it goes deeper than that...)
-NUGGS. I SCREECHED IRL /POS
THEY GAVE HIM A HEART ON HIS BUTT!!!!! S TIER REDESIGN
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ALASTOR NOTES
-At first i was kinda Eh about his voice but it's grown on me, the radio filter is a little more subtle than the pilot but it's still there which i'm glad for
Delightfully passive aggressive
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-Weird magic still, there doesn't seem to be any limits to it... we need to know what his weakness is...!!!!! please (maybe that will come later??) ....... i theorize he has underworld contact (Shadow-world, because of the shadow imagery?) , the underworld might be different from Hell maybe? (Where do those fucking tentacles come from, also weird monochrome demons)
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-Interesting he was gone for 7 years. 7 is an angelic number. HMMMMMM (sealed away by angels somehow??)
-Punchable (Vaggie please)
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-Weirdly enjoyable and not genuinely hateable like some of the other characters, but i also want to see his demise, maybe his sadism is rubbing off on me, but i want to see it badly...
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SIR PENTIOUS NOTES
-Sir Pentious... u are so good.. probably has some of the best writing so far, maybe... he's my favorite so. hhHHmm
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his voice is different but at the same time it's what you'd expect, i like it a lot... so silly, i pat him and his silly hat
-Pathetic old man. You win my heart (50x as much)
-Only one egg spoke so far, i wonder if they'll all have unique voices this time (the Japanese dub of the pilot did that lol)
-Genuinely a joy every moment he was onscreen (Too fucking cute... GRRRR)
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-How did he get into contact with Vox? Why would Vox want anything to do with him if he thinks he's a loser? (I guess easy access into the Hotel) ...Fuck em either way (DON'T BE MEAN TO SNAKE MAN)
-Cool temporary stunning hypnosis, maybe we'll see him coil and bite next, the snake attack traits are fun
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-His autism vibes grow stronger and it's canon in my heart
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-We LOVE a redemption song. please stay in the hotel with everyone, don't fuck it up!!! you're a good noodle.... 😭 The song was genuinely so cute... it's probably going to be the highlight of EVERYTHING for me, besides Nuggs..
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HUSK NOTES
-i luv u kitty
-His voice is different but captures "Grumpy old alcoholic" perfectly
-His heart needs to be melted...
-Him holding the script in front of the camera was great
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- NIFFTY NOTES
-Niffty is a BIG COWARD. you can still love a "Bad boy" who's a redeemed bad boy!!!! just because he's not morally bad doesn't Not make him a Bad Boy. fuck u (i still like you)
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-Her voice is really cute, also her nightgown.. though finding out she doesn't have dark bug limbs but is just wearing gloves and stockings surprised me more than it should've... put them back
-Also autism vibes, love it
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-She still frightens me a bit
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V TRIO NOTES
VOX -----
-Seems to carry the team, voice has grown on me
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-I can't stop looking at his weird finger claws, they almost look like
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he's just wearing things over his fingers, i dig it
-Interesting hypnosis power, i assume Alastor is immune
-Why can't Alastor and Vox just compromise and create a podcast?
-Hates Val (sorry shippers) ,,... kind of expected it since in old official sources it's been shown that he's been abused by Val too
-This isn't a note but everytime Alastor said "THE TV IS BUFFERING~" in their duet, the player kept fucking up 😭
-Decent song, I like seeing him and Al argue
-I surprisingly don't hate him! i'm glad. i wanted to like him (though, it's only been 2 episodes so far...)
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VALENTINO ---------
-More manchild vibes than i expected tbh
-Voice is alright but his accent is weirdly inconsistent for some reason???? interesting direction
-His manipulation is shown well in the voicemail scene with Angel, he's literally got the "Nice Guy" energy
-Surprisingly didn't order Vox around as much as i thought he would
-Why does he have girl Fizzy bots...
-Die?
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VELVETTE
-Fashion design isn't something i expected, but then again i didn't know that much about her prior other than she's obsessed with social media
-British is also not what i expected but cool
-Uh. she didn't really stick out to me that much...sorry..... she's fine tho
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ADAM & LUTE NOTES
-Personally do not like how these angels look so menacing, i get that they're technically bad, but... make them look more angelic besides halos and wings??? they could easily be mistaken for hell residents. Also again, i feel like angels should swear less and drop swears in critical / good timed moments, it would be funnier... subtlety is not a thing i guess
-Adam's guitar solo was good tho, not really feeling his character tho, he's just an asshole but that's the point
-Adam looks like the fucking dress meme. I can't unsee it
-Lute is pretty...
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KATIE KILLJOY & TOM TRENCH NOTES
-Brandon Rodgers
-They sure were there for a second!
-i luv tom
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All in all...
Episode 1: 6-7/10
Episode 2: 8.5/10
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joongbin · 10 months
Note
Okay so this request is going to be based around the same m!reader from the abs request, how do you think skz would overall act around this m!reader? Like on and off camera/concert/stage, skz talker, fan meetings, fancalls, interviews, live streams, filming m/v's, airports, etc... like just headcanons around him generally and how they act around him/with him/when he is mentioned. With or without the members or even around other idols which i think would be very interesting to see.
always with me. - SKZ!OT8
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summary › basically how they act around you.
genre › fluff?? i think
pairings › ot8 x 9th mbr!m!reader (seperate)
warnings › none.
a/n: sorry for the long wait on this request!! tried to write it as best as i could!
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BANG CHAN
Chan would act a little more affectionate towards you as a crush. But on camera, he tries to not do this behaviour too much or people will start catching on. He only does this off camera.
He's always clinging on to your arm or hand or waist to just feel your bicep or abs, while he tries not to make it too obvious. I mean, he doesn't want other members to catch on..
Whenever you're mentioned, he immediately perks up, wanting to hear whatever comes right after that. He'll correct any misinformation about you because he doesn't want STAYs to misunderstand! Totally not because he just likes you or anything and doesn't want anything to happen to you .. no..
Around other idols, he's the same as he is off-camera with you, all clingy and stuff. Other idols don't mind the behaviour, they find it pretty endearing actually! I mean, he tried to kiss you so many times already, but let's keep quiet about that.
I think this behaviour would sometimes come out at airports. He can't help himself! You're just so cute and buff as hell, he just wants you to know how much he cares for you.
He can be spotted looking at you from afar in SKZ-TALKERS while you're talking to the mic, you always point him out with a chuckle, but you know it's just a little joke that he likes to play on you.
Other idols state that he just loves you alot. And you're probably his favourite stray kid of them all!
LEE KNOW
Lee Know would be the same on and off camera. He's not afraid to show the world that he likes you! He loves touching your abs
He would always be spotted trying to kiss you. Facing you with duck lips. And always points to his cheek, indicating that he wants you to kiss his cheek. Pretends to be whiny of you refuse to kiss the man's cheek.
In airports, he just makes sure you're not uncomfortable or anything. He knows your strong, so safety really wasn't a problem for you.
Around other idols, with him is always like handling an actual child. He holds your hand like the entire night you're there. It's like he super glued his hands to yours.
During concerts is where it's a bit .. wilder, since in SKZ-TALKERS, MAKING FILMS, interviews, etc. can be edited, concerts can't. Always slapping your butt, touching your abs when you're not looking, saying that you look like Doongie when you have ginger/blond hair, saying that you look like Soonie when you have brown hair. And many more.
People just say he's fucking whipped and he is.
SEO CHANGBIN
Changbin is also like Lee Know, but more .. affectionate and aegyo-y. He has said many things about you that you wish to forget. On one of the MV FILMINGs, he said that he would sell his soul to the devil just to have your abs. You .. didn't really know why.
Watches every TikTok you make. And literally begs the manager to dance with you whenever a comeback happens. The manager would usually let you guys collab, but on some occasions, they wouldn't do it because of allegations.
At airports, he likes matching outfits with you. You wear a dog shirt, he has one too! A cat shirt? He has one! Bear shirt? You guessed it, he has one too. STAYs like it, so he continues doing it and holds your hand since he knows that you didn't exactly like the lights flash on your face.
He also likes sitting on your lap. On every SKZ-TALKER, you will always see him on your lap no matter what or his arms wrapped around your waist, or he's checking out your arms. Or he's just around you doing stuff. He's clung on to you, what do you expect?
At concerts, he is 100% going to try and kiss you. Any couple questions? He is asking you to answer them with him. Headlock questions? He's asking you to do it for him. Also probably has your bubble. And saved every picture you sent.
Around other idols, he's gonna cling on to you and tells you to dance to multiple GG dances by bumping in to you. You enjoy it, and it doesn't disturb your interactions with other idols.
The other members tease him about it when you're not there or busy, but it's not like you'd know he liked you .. or?
HWANG HYUNJIN
Hyunjin is NOT brave enough to do any stuff that would expose him. He just admires you from afar. Though, that doesn't mean he isn't affectionate toward you.
Also likes laying on your lap, usually sleeps on it, though. He needs rest, and you're the only pillow he wants to sleep on.
Everytime you say something about him, instead of the usual laugh or weird look, he'd respond by agreeing with you and try give you what you want. You want his lips? He's gonna try to kiss you. You want his hair?
He really likes hugging you. Everytime you just stand at an interview or just standing doing something, he's always gonna be behind you with his arms around your waist while he moves you side to side.
Arm is always over your shoulder. Like he's clingy but he doesn't show it alot. It's more subtle.
Around other idols, he's not gonna try anything. Like anything. He wouldn't even try to do that. He's scared of what will happen if people catch on that he likes you. His reputation would be ruined.
At concerts, he's a bit more braver, singing your parts with you, or rapping your parts. Making a few adlibs about you, his arm usually around your shoulder as you bop your head to the music.
People don't really know that he likes you, and he wants it to stay that way.
HAN JISUNG
Also another one that tries to kiss you 24/7. Every single time he gets the chance, you will see him face you with duck lips. There's times where you tease him by trying to kiss him back, and there's times where you push his face away to face the camera.
Oh you thought he was babygirl enough? Nope. He's even more babygirl around you. He literally loves being around you. He likes sleeping on you, he likes eating with you, he likes doing everything with you basically.
Also soothes him whenever he's having an anxiety attack. Whenever he does, he clings on to you while you comfort him until he's fine.
Calls you Lee Know's 4th cat because you act like one. Probably mistook you for Soonie one time when you had brown hair.
Around other idols, he's like half of what he is. He does not want his idol friends to know how he is like you off camera. He still likes to be around you though.
On concerts, he wants you to sing or rap his parts alot. Of course, he does that on his own, but hearing his parts in your voice makes him absolutely whipped.
During the reaction of Your Eyes or There, he's not gonna react like how he reacts with other members. He's gonna scream x10 louder when he sees you rizzing up the camera, and stream your part on 400 different devices.
Whenever you're mentioned, he has a giant smile on his face, like stupidly big. That's how much he likes you.
LEE FELIX
Felix just outright stares at you. Or well, your arms whenever you flex them in SKZ-TALKERS. I mean, can you blame the man? He loves them.
Bites his lips everytime he squishes them. Like, it's so incredibly obvious that he likes you but he thinks he's so slick. It's fucking hilarious.
Also saves your pictures on every single social media. And also favourites edits of you. His whole FYP is probably just you. It's not creepy, he just likes you.
At concerts, he really likes to touch your abs. Like, you can't stop this man. I mean, everyone thinks it's funny. And kinda cute?
Likes being affectionate around you. Cheers you on, also matches clothes with you. He buys matching clothes for you whenever he's out shopping. And also buys you keychains to match, and always sees one of the keychains on your bag, the others are usually on your wall just hanging.
Around other idols, he just sits from afar while talking to some other idol, but he does look at you, just wanna make sure you're safe .. even though you could probably bodyslam anyone who even tries to hurt you.
KIM SEUNGMIN
Teases you just a little more than he does with other members. He just likes how you laugh at his jokes about you or other members. Your laugh is like music to his ears.
Not bold enough to try anything. But does lay on your lap or sit on it. That much he will do. Also sometimes squishes your biceps when he feels like he wants to.
In SKZ-TALKERS, the most you'll see him doing is sleep on your lap. He doesn't wanna try anything that will raise suspicion about his crush on you.
At concerts, he tries to be subtle about touching you or teasing you but really, every STAY that's there can see him know that he likes you.
Listens to your covers in the SKZ-PLAYER or your songs. In interviews, when asked what's his favourite song, it's always a song written by you. Like always. And he listens to that dong on repeat.
Around other idols, he's like Felix. Just sitting and looking at you interact with other idols. Just looking at you ... And how the cloth just wraps around your biceps .... And sometimes when you wear a bodysuit .. your abs show .. and .. okay, getting distracted.
YANG JEONGIN
He's still so shy around you. Everytime you speak to him, he stutters alot. Your voice is just so nice, he can't help it. And he can't really pay attention whenever you talk because he's paying attention to your abs.
Also likes teasing you a bit for being like a cat, calling you Soonie/Doongie/Dori.
Likes singing and listening to your songs! Whether it was a cover or not, he sings it regardless. Maybe in some SKZ-TALKERS, you can hear him sing in the background!
Buys you skincare. Like, he wants you to take care of your skin! Loves whenever you mention his gifts to you in your vlogs! It makes him kick his feet and giggle.
Actually kisses you on the cheek whenever you ask for it. Like genuinely does it. I mean, it's a chance to kiss you so he might as well take it, right?
With other idols, he's just like Seungmin and Felix. He's too shy, so he's just sitting there while talking to his members and his idol friends.
At concerts, he sings with you. He can't really rap, but he tries and STAYs think it's so cute!
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white-sinner · 10 months
Text
Seven brothers and their boyfriends
fourth born Satan x male book lover reader
Smut
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💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚
all fairy tales start with once upon a time and they all lived happily ever after and it's time for the story between you and satan to begin
when you two first met there wasn't this much interaction the only thing you understood about him was his hatred for lucifer
one of the details that made him fall madly in love with you was your love of reading but not just your personality your looks he loved everything about you. like the little mermaid
and when he showed you his room o holy heaven … it was as if he fell in love with you again your eyes sparkled! it was a whole room full of bookshelves and full of books finally someone who understood him his love for books in short a perfect match
most of the time you could find him opening your door wide with a pile of books in his hand saying
“these are some of my favorite books I think you might like them”
of course you also recommended them and lent your favorite books with the which unlike his was much more attentive
for your dates, these are almost always in the library, in his room pampering you while you read together but one thing that satan likes to do in particular is to recreate one of the romantic scenes of one of his books
now the fights between you two don't always happen but they are more frequent than other brothers but you can swear that after he calms down he will try to apologize in all possible ways for example by sending you pictures of cats with the word sorry, writing you a poem or even coming with a cat in his arms apologizing
SMUT
now this may seem like a fairy tale but this story is not all sugar and candy but there is also a touch of spice now this can go in two ways
SUB READER
satan was returning from the library when he saw a scene in the living room he saw you and lucifer arguing and you fearlessly answered him in kind, after that quarrel and you were still angry, satan he invited you to his room and as soon as you entered the Saw satan shirtless slamming you against the wall kissing you furiously
“you could have told me you wanted to do that wonderful show but you didn't tell me anything, naughty boy~”
“Huh?!”
satan throw you on the bed you were speechless but excited and satan could see it
satan undresses you while he runs his hands over your exposed body, he puts you on your stomach and your ass in the air and starts fucking you very hard, you put your hand on your mouth to stop your moans being heard
“Don't cover your sweet sounds, kitty”
“mmm~ go slowerrr”
to which he smirked and went faster
you know cats when their partner is in heat? this is exactly what happened
the next day Satan had to carry you in his arms because you couldn't move well he didn't mind
TOP READER
you and Satan were in his room reading and drinking tea when you notice something strange under the bed
"do not look!"
“some cat ears and a tail-shaped butt plug?”
“I-I can explain”
now you were intrigued by the tail shaped butt plug you already had an idea where the situation was going but you wanted to hear from him
“I wanted you to fuck me with those…”
said Satan in a low voice even lower than Levi
“What? speak louder baby”
"Come on are you serious? it's embarrassing"
“ok when you are ready to tell me he will find me in my room”
“wait wait! don't go..I want you to fuck me with those”
you only smiled after this and Satan's cheeks flushed red
"undress"
Satan followed your instructions and was left with only ears and tail
now he was under you while you fucked him making him see the stars
“M/NM/Nn-“
“No no,baby kitty don’t talk”
with that said he started fucking harder now you could see the bulge of your cock inside him
“Nyan nyan!!”
and so you continued until the morning
A/N: before this story ends I leave you with a photo
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💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚
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yanderecrazysie · 4 months
Text
Asmodeus NSFW Yandere Alphabet
I’m in a NSFW mood today, sorry minors.
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WARNINGS: yandere themes, very NSFW, mentions of non-con
A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
He likes to cuddle after sex sometimes. He is always the big spoon and loves to hump your butt a little to make himself hard again for round two. He’ll also run a bath for you to clean up when you’re both done.
B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
For you, he thinks you have a cute butt. He loves the way it jiggles when you walk and loves to run his palm over the curve of your ass cheeks. He wouldn’t say no to big boobs either. For himself, he likes everything about himself, but especially his dick. It’s the part that gets the most pleasure and he likes how it looks. The avatar of lust has the perfect cock, after all.
C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)
Asmodeus’s cum tastes delicious- like, way better than it ever should. That’s a perk of being the avatar of lust. He cums a medium amount, just enough to fill you up, but not enough to overflow. His cum is also not too thick but not too watery. Basically, he’s literally perfect.
D: Dirty Secret
Asmodeus is super sensitive on his back. He loses control over himself if you touch his back and might do something he regrets later. It’s just something about the way your soft hands touch his spine that instantly gets him hard as a rock.
E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Asmodeus is very experienced. As the avatar of lust, he’s put many women, and even some men, under his spell. Witches are his favorite, but humans are just as fun to play around with, and he’s fucked plenty of both. He hasn’t gone for any angels though, and very few demons.
F: Favorite Position
Asmodeus prefers missionary because he can look down at you while still taking all of the control. He loves seeing his reflection in your wide eyes and loves snapping his hips into yours to see your mouth open in long drawn-out moans. He doesn’t mind cowgirl either, as long as you let him take control.
G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)  
Asmodeus isn’t exactly joking as much as he is teasing. You love me so much, don’t you? You’re moaning just for me, you cute little thing. You’re in the splash zone, cutie pie. He plays around with you just like a demon does with their prey. He’ll purr these things into your ear as he plays with your pretty pussy.
H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Asmodeus keeps himself well groomed, as he thinks it’s important to take care of. He doesn’t shave it all the way, just long enough to be noticeable but not a turn off. It’s the same color as his hair and doesn’t travel up to his belly button like it does for a lot of people (in fact, he barely has body hair).
I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)
Asmodeus may tease you, but he’s actually very loving and caring. He makes sure you’re soaking the sheets before he even attempts to enter you and his goal is to make you orgasm as much as possible. He’s also very romantic, sprinkling rose petals around the room and running you a hot bubble bath for when you both are done having your fun.
J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Asmodeus doesn’t masturbate. If he feels in the mood, which is often, he goes and finds someone to fuck. Of course, when he falls in love with you, you’re the only one he seeks out to satisfy his urges. If he can’t have you, he’ll just stay pent up until he can.
K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Asmodeus likes dressing up like a girl sometimes- having sex in a dress or wearing pink panties before you start your fun. He also likes stealing your own panties so he can sniff them later. Just to remember you by, of course.
L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)
Asmodeus is adventurous. While he likes doing the deed at home (because he can set it up and make it romantic), he’s not afraid to fuck in public. He especially likes the park and movie theater. It gives him a rush like nothing else.
M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
It doesn’t take much to turn Asmodeus on. If you touch his back, the effect is instant, but if you don’t, all he needs is you both alone in a room together before he’s whining for you to agree to having sex with him. He’s a needy man and the avatar of lust, so just about everything turns him on. Even nothing at all.
N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Asmodeus isn’t a sadist- he would never hurt you on purpose. He might have a tiny bit of masochism in him, but he has not an ounce of sadism. He could never whip you or degrade you or anything like that.
O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Asmodeus loves both giving and receiving, but he likes giving just a little more. He’s very experienced with eating girls out, so you’ll quickly find that he hits all the right spots with ease. For receiving, he doesn’t mind if you’re inexperienced, he’s happy to guide you into giving him a good experience.
P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)  
Asmodeus is slow and sensual, holding you close as he rolls his hips, grinding deep inside of you. He thrusts lightly, not aiming for your cervix but for your g-spot. He doesn’t go hard when he finds it, just keeps a gentle rhythm. Sometimes he rubs at your clit during sex.
Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)  
Asmodeus doesn’t do fast. He loves to draw it out, take as much time as he needs. A quickie is almost an insult to him. It feels like a quickie means throwing away all the hard work for just a lousy bit of sex. He doesn’t really mind when others do it, but it’s not for him.
R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) 
Asmodeus is willing to try almost anything, but he’s pretty consistent when it comes to sex. He knows what works for him and what doesn’t. If you want to try something new, then great! He’ll do it as long as it doesn’t hurt you.
S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Asmodeus has basically unlimited stamina. Like an incubus, he grows stronger from sex. He likes to cum at the same time you do, but if he chose not to, he could go as long as he felt like. He loves to do multiple rounds to send you into overstimulation, but he’ll go easy on you if you ask him to.
T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Asmodeus doesn’t have any toys for himself, since he doesn’t masturbate, but he does have a vibrator he uses on you sometimes and a feather he likes to tickle your skin with. Other than that, his toy drawer is empty.
U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)
Asmodeus likes to tease quite a bit. He’ll get you to the brink of orgasm, then stop. He wants you to beg for him to make you cum and he’s good at what he does. Don’t worry though, when you give in, he’ll give you the best orgasms of your life.
V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Asmodeus is loud. He moans like a pornstar and sometimes lets out a giggle when he sees your eyes roll back in your head. He doesn’t grunt or groan, it’s definitely moaning. He just likes to show you how he feels!
W: With or without consent (Non-con or consensual?)
Asmodues prefers consent so, so much. He wants you looking into his eyes as he fucks you, not crying or looking away. However, if you reject him, and he knows you’re off limits, he may just kidnap you because he desperately needs relief and he can’t turn to masturbation or other girls.
X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)
Asmodeus is just an inch bigger than average and his girth is the same story. But his cock is so pretty and has no visible veins running down the side. It’s a pretty shade of pink and is without any blemishes. It curves a little upwards, which helps him hit your g-spot.
Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Asmodeus could have sex with you multiple times every day if he wanted, but he knows you might not be up for that. Since he doesn’t masturbate, it builds up over time until he has to get some release. Then, he’ll fuck you until you’re too tired to move.
Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Asmodeus sometimes runs a bath for the both of you, but right afterwards, it’s cuddling and sleeping on his bed. He gets a little smile on his face in his sleep and it’s actually really cute. He falls asleep either at about the same time as you or slightly after.
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celabi · 1 year
Note
It's your local fungi with a horny thought. We had our sports fest at school today and I played badminton for my section. I went to the bathroom after my match and was all sweaty and shit (Tennis shorts and all that wink wonk.) But also secretly wishing Scara would see me and take me in one of the stalls. That was hours ago, I spent the whole time since, trying to not lose my shit over being sexually frustrated. Expound on this please I will kiss you if you do <3
Gym class with Scummy Scaramouche! ☆彡
Blublublublub hiiii I don’t think they do pe in college but take wtv this is *bites lip seductively* mwa (it’s short$) tbh this is kinda not what you asked but it’s also similar at the same time lol sorry!!
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Scaramouche used to absolutely despise P.E class. Because no matter what sport the teacher made them participate in, almost everyone tried to target him some how, y’know, cause he’s a loser and stuff. People using all their strength to peg a dodge ball at him, going out of their way to trip him over him track, being the last one picked in group activities… yeah, it was kinda rough. So naturally, as he got older, he tried to put his past behind him as much as he could— wether that be lying to the professor and saying that he had a bad knee (sometimes he’d make Ei write him a sick note to make it more believable… this is a grown man everybody), or just skipping out on the lesson entirely (by cramming himself in a bathroom stall and playing on his phone). Basically just doing anything to get out of it— but that all stopping when you came in.
Coming in with that tight gym uniform that he thinks hugs your body figure just perfectly— watching as it slightly raises when you bend down to do all those different physical activities. The way the sweat that drips off your face and down your neck made you look almost if not angelic… and if he had a jar, he’d ask to take a little sample from you jfc I’m so sorry. How your tits bounce every time you jump up the catch the ball, you’d have to literally shake him back and forth for his attention to leave them (but even then he’s looking down and watching them jiggle lawl). The small shorts that let your cute little butt peak out from under them … he quickly grabs his bag and places it in his lap to hide his boner.
Um anyways, he scrambles up from the floor and slowly walks over towards you— momentarily stopping you and your friends conversation, which you smile and they groan about. “Hi Scara, need something?” So cute, he thinks, his feet padding across the ground until he’s finally, fully in front of you, while also trying to secretly scoot your friend further away. “Yes, you…’re help with something, can you cu— come with me? Please?” You smell even better then he thought. Scaramouche hums happily when you agree, and reaches out for your hand to pull you along and away from everyone else. Your friend tries to pull you back, but he shoots them a deathly stare over his shoulder and tightens his hold on your hand, a silent head shake in warning, they roll their eyes and let you leave.
Scaramouche thinks gym class is not that bad, as he locks the door to the stall and turns around, where you’re standing there, unaware (or aware, maybe who knows) of the effect you have on him, and looking at him questionably. “You… want me to help you pee, or something?” He blinks, and lets a little, amused chuckle fall from his mouth.
“… no I— i uh. Can you turn around really quick?” A strange request, but you comply nonetheless, and turn around until you’re facing the wall. There’s a quick shuffling sound coming from behind you, as well as Scaramouche letting out a few curses under his breath— before you feel his body pressing up behind you. “Thank you… you don’t know— know what you’re doing to me, do you?” His arms wrap around your torso, hands sneakily slipping under the fabric of your shirt and landing on your bare skin— which he shamelessly prods at. And when you look down, you can just barely see something poking through the gap of your thighs… it’s the tip of his cock, it’s angry red and leaking cum already :( “you look so beautiful wearing this, so— so perfect. I hate that everyone else can see you.”
Humming, you reach down and tease your fingers over the slit of his cock head, making him drop his head into the crook of your neck and whine pathetically— before he slowly starts to rut his hips into you. “So good, so good…” even through your clothing he can feel the way your pussy rubs against his cock.
“The lesson ends soon… we’ll have some fun, yeah?” (A threat not a question) your voice is so heavenly, he squeezes his eyes tight shut, and moans into your skin. “Yes… yes please.” He feels your hand leave his cock, and your arms raise up to pull off your shirt, and he gulps. ‘..finally.’
Err the end bye 🫡
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NSFW ALPHABET - MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER
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• Based around fem!reader!!! I tried to make most of them gender neutral when they are based around just Matthew, but when a partner is mention female anatomy is used. Please let me know if you enjoyed this or agree with my HCs!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Depends! If he’s too tired afterwards, probably after a few rounds and back in the 2000s when he was less experienced, he would probably just lay and cuddle you while he took his time regaining his stamina. On the other hand, as his stamina grew and he wasn’t completed fucked afterwards, he’d grab you both a glass of water to take a couple sips from and clean eachother up a bit if he had finished somewhere on you or his fingers and face were sticky with your liquid.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His favourite body part about himself is probably his torso/upper body area because it allows him to wrap his arms around you and hold you close. His favourite body part on you varies, but that’s only because it’s hard to choose just one favourite thing. He tells people your smile to keep things PG, but whenever he is on top of you he can’t help but caress and fondle your breasts, and if he’s feeling a little cheeky, he’ll stare at your butt when you wear bootie shorts.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He loves to cum inside you, of course, just because the action feels so intimate, but he won’t object to pulling out and finishing on your pussy or stomach to see how it lays on your soft skin. Not to mention, he can’t get enough of your cum; the taste, the consistency between his fingers.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He wouldn’t want to admit it, but he masurbates often. He loves to jerk his hips up into his hand and whimper your name when you’re apart.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
I doubt he’s experienced. He’s not the type to have casual hook-ups, so his list of lovers is probably short, but quantity ≠ quality.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Touch decision between cowgirl and missionary. Depending on his mood, if he’s feeling a little submissive he’ll just lay there and let you take control, then gripping your hips roughly as he got closer and closer. When he likes missionary, he burrows his face in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he thrusts into you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
If it’s a morning quickie, he’ll be all giggly as you take off your pjs and make out, then feeling very flustered afterwards because he’s embarrassed. Similarly, he loves to tease you which always tugs a smirk to his lips because he can’t take himself seriously.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Trimmed but not hairless, which is mainly for comfort. But if you asked him to shave closer to the skin he would without hesitation.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He considers sex to be incredibly intimate. He’ll often whisper soft I love you’s as he makes love to you and always praising you. He want’s you all to himself. He prides himself knowing that you are exclusive.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Similar to Dirty Secret, he tends to only do it in bed at night, sometimes in the shower. He loves it when you give him a hand job, though. 1000% percent better, because when he does it to himself he always pretends it’s your hand.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
His kinks and desires fluctuate over the years, but he’s always loved praising. Either praises from you when you’re touching him which make him finish so fast, or he’s whispering them in your ear, making you shiver.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Your bed is always the first option. Considering how tall he is, it’s usually the most comfortable location. But, if you’re feeling frisky, you’ll ride him on the couch or he’ll take you against the wall in the shower, which always gives him a little pep in his step from the adrenaline.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
The tiniest thing can make him horny. You can simply be walking around in a big sleep shirt (better if it’s one of his t-shirts), just panties underneath and the very bottom of your butt is peeking from underneath, he can’t help but give it a little squeeze or coming up behind you, pushing his erection against you which immediately lets you know he’s in the mood.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Dominance that borderlines BDSM. He’ll ocasionally ask for your hands to wrap around his neck but never constricting his air in a serious way. He could never imagine hitting you during, and if you had done so he would be confused. why did they hit me? am i doing something wrong?
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Munch! If he had to choose between giving or receiving, he would always pick to give it. Of course, he can’t get enough of your lips wrapped around his cock, your tongue teasing him, but nothing matches being able to devour you completely and drink you dry.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on the occasion. If you’re celebrating an anniversary or just some tired sex after work, he’ll be slow and gentle, whispering and kissing you as he lets our quiet whimpers and groans. But if he’s been missing you all day, having to distract himself with something so he doesn’t drown in daydreams of your body, the second he’s home alone with you he’ll climb on top of you, burrying his face in your neck as he thrusts into you in long movements, pulling out until only his tip remains then pushing back into you, causing the bed to shake.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He would choose a long night of love making over a quickie, but he would never object. He prefers for them to be at home just out of comfort, either on the kitchen counter or his reading chair.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He’s very open minded in all senses, especially in bed. If you suggest you try a new toy, he’ll use it as many ways as he can think. For example, when you are experimenting with vibrators together, he’s a little worried to try it on his tip at first because the loud vibration sound is intimidating, but once you did he came so fast, withering right underneath you.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Similarly to Aftercare, it depends on his experience. In the 2000s when he was more scrawny, he probably doesn’t last too long and can only endure 1-2 rounds when. But as his endurance grew he could handle 2-4 orgasm a night. This varies depending if you’re experimenting.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
When he’s single, he probably doesn’t own any. But once he’s in a relationship and comfortable enough, he would find it interesting to go to a sex shop and pick out toys with you.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He loves to compliment your body and make you blush. He’ll act tough when he’s teasing you verbally, but as soon as you drag him to your bedroom that game is over and he’s begging.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He’s not too loud but is very vocal, always breathing heavy and whimpering, and as he gets closer to cumming the moans come out.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Goes crazyyyy for fingering. He loves watching his fingers moving in and out of your pussy (not more than watching his cock disappear inside you). He especially loves watching your wither and squirm just from something simple as his fingers, then tasting your arousal after he brings you to orgasm.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Toned, of course. But as we head south, his length is average, 6-7 inches, his tip a pretty pink colour. He’s always self conscious about his size and claims that he’s small, but you always reassure him that it’s perfect for you and you tell him how good his cock feels, which always ends up to a quickie or another round.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Average to above average. He’s almost always open to being intimate, but his sex drive varies with stress levels or if emotionally straining things happen in his life.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
If you two had a long night of fucking, more than three rounds, you’ll exchange a couple soft whispers as you cuddle afterwards, just trying to recollect your breath and falling asleep in your arms. But if he’s not too fucked out he’ll lay on his side while you lay beside him on his back, letting his fingers dance over your body and chat quietly until one of you decide to speak up and say it’s time you get some sleep.
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