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#Something he's had for a long long time and Something Happens - it's just Very I dunno of what but Very
authorhjk1 · 1 day
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How would you do a short free-use story staring your favorite idol?
Thanks for the ask! Although I'm not sure what you mean exactly with "How" Do you want me to explain it or write it? I decided to just write it, hope you enjoy. @mechaknight-98 I saw your other request, I will get to it when I have the time.
(I hope I understood the concept of free-use correctly)
White
Kim Jisoo X Male Reader
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You hear voices behind the door, after you rang the doorbell. Footsteps come closer and you take a step back. A moment later, the door is being opened.
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For a moment, you are stunned by her beauty. How can a person be so pretty? So perfect? You smell her flowery scent. Maybe roses.
Her eyes grow big once she realises who is standing in front of her.
"(Y/n), I-I..."
Jisoo stutters, too surprised to see you standing in front of her parent's mansion. The young heiress of the Kim Group is usually very well spoken.
"What are you doing here?"
"Just came back from a business trip. I haven't had your pussy in weeks."
You catch her flinching.
Despite the amount of times you've already taken advantage of your arrangement, she is still uncomfortable talking about it openly.
"S-Sure. Please follow me."
Jisoo turns around and leads you inside her parent's place, after you shut the door behind you. You walk behind her, enjoying the view of her naked shoulders. The back of her necklace sparkles in the light of the chandelier in the hallway.
Approaching the big wooden stairs in the middle of the house, the two of you pass by the entrance to the dining room.
"Jisoo!"
She freezes in place, before you both look into the room. You recognize her parents, who sit on one side of the table. A chair is empty, the one next to it is occupied by Jisoo's fiance.
"Who is this man?"
Her father looks at you in suspicion.
"He is a business partner of mine. We are headed to my study, cause we have to make an important decision on the future of our companies' relationship, which can't be delayed."
That's the Jisoo everyone knows. The strong, independent and successful businesswoman. The complete opposite of the Jisoo you know. Your submissive, free-use toy.
Her father nods in approval, visibly oblivious. You do a short bow in his direction. Jisoo starts walking again. Her chin raised, back straight.
Halfway up the stairs, you can't help it anymore. She just looks flawless. And you really have been longing for her for weeks.
You reach out, your hand squeezing her ass through her white dress. Jisoo jumps, but she doesn't say anything. She keeps walking as if nothing is happening. After squeezing her right cheek a couple of times, you stop walking, making her stop too.
"Suck me off."
Jisoo turns around. You are almost at the top of the stairs already. You see the confusion in her eyes. Why can't you wait one more minute?
But she doesn't talk back. Jisoo carefully gets on her knees in front of you, making sure she doesn't mess up her dress somehow.
A moment later, your cock lands on her face. Jisoo closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as she savours your smell. You can tell that your absence made her sexually frustrated.
"Are you still waiting until you married him?"
It's an odd question to ask, when the soon to be bride is giving the tip of your dick a sensual kiss.
"Yes. But he keeps trying to initiate something. I don't know if he is gonna wait until he puts a wedding ring on my finger."
You sigh as your gaze gets caught on the big silver diamond ring on her ring finger. The hand it's on is stroking your cock, while she talks.
"I don't like it. But I can't blame him."
You reach down and cup her cheek. Jisoo leans into it, looking up at you with big eyes.
"A woman like you could make a man do whatever she wants. You are fucking gorgeous."
You quickly realize the irony of your words. You are making her do whatever you want.
"Thank you."
A shy smile plays around her lips. Jisoo still can't take compliments. At least when they are coming from you.
After your quick exchange, she finally starts giving you head properly. You can't believe how much of a slut you've turned her into. She is sucking you off in the middle of her parents house in plain sight, while her parents and her boyfriend are in the room next door.
"That's a good girl."
You encourage Jisoo as she bobs her head on your cock. You've missed her mouth. The way her lips wrap around you. The way her tongue glides along your length. The way her throat tightens, when you push past her gag reflex.
As exciting and adventurous this little scene might be, you know that you will get caught sooner rather than later, if you don't move on.
"Let's go to your room. I don't want to waste my time here when I could be in there, plowing your pussy like I own it."
You help Jisoo to her feet, catching the slight blush on her cheeks.
"Because I do."
You whisper into her ear, before spinning her around.
The two of you finally make it down the hallway without any further incidents. Once you reach her room, you walk inside, waiting for her to close the door behind her.
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She has turned into a shy, innocent girl once again. You lean against Jisoo, pressing her against the door, kissing every inch of her exposed skin.
"How did I even make it these couple of weeks without this body of yours?"
It was a rhetoric question between kisses, but Jisoo tries to come up with an explanation. An explanation that satisfies you.
"I send you several pictures of me every day. And videos. I kept thinking of you while I..."
A growl escapes your lips. The power you have over her right now gives you a familiar rush of adrenaline.
"Strip."
You sit down on the edge of her bed, crossing your arms in front of you. If you were sitting on a chair at your desk, it would've looked like Jisoo was there to apply for an internship.
She shyly brushes all of her hair on her right side behind her ear.
"Can you help me please?"
Jisoo turns around. She know uses her whole hand to put all of her hair over her left shoulder. You reach upwards, taking the zipper of her dress, before slowly pulling it down. Your eyes follow her dress as she lets it slip down her frame.
Her porcelain like skin and her white lace panties captivate you. Her fiance must go mad, knowing she is together with him and he still can't have her.
The sight of Jisoo, standing in front of you almost completely naked, makes you finally jump into action. You pin her against the door, before she can react. Your pants are on the floor a second later.
After pushing the white fabric to the side, Jisoo does nothing but moan as you ease yourself inside.
"Oh fuck."
You groan into her ear, relishing in the familiar feeling of being inside her tight cunt. Jisoo's cheek is pressed up against the white wood as she takes your pounding from behind. Her moans are deeper than they usually are. Maybe because you haven't fucked her in a while. Or because her parents and fiance are downstairs.
You kiss her other cheek and her naked shoulders as you thrust into her again and again. Her scent only makes you go harder. You hold her waist with both hands, pounding her against the door.
Jisoo's eyes are closed. You can't tell if it's because she is liking it so much, or because she is cheating. Either way, you keep using her body to make yourself cum. Her tight walls do most of the job. They squeeze around you, trying to make you cum as quick as possible.
Leaning against her, you fuck her into the door, slowly approaching your orgasm.
"Fuck Jisoo."
She knows what's coming next, moaning a little louder as she feels you throbbing inside of her.
That rush, coming from knowing you are using another man's woman as a free-use toy, pushes you over the edge. You claim Jisoo's pussy as yours as you paint her insides white. She feels your cum warm her lower region. While her fiance is probably begging her to sleep with him, you don't even bother asking where she would want your cum. You creampie Kim Jisoo, enjoying the familiar feeling of her cum filled pussy squeezing your cock.
Jisoo was never the loud type. Which is a blessing in disguise, especially when you use her in public. She barely talks, only moans and whines escape her mouth. It fits her reserved, proud character. Jisoo doesn't look very elegant or proud right now as you finally come to a hold. You bite into her ear, just above her earrings. As she flinches and hisses in pain, you only have time to think for barely a second. You wonder if she bought them, or her fiance did. They look beautiful on her.
When you open your eyes again, you see your teeth marks in her ear. Jisoo's forehead is now leaning against the wood. Her eyes are still closed, she is taking heavy breaths.
Resting your chin on her naked shoulder, you stay buried inside her snug hole.
"I have a meeting with your company tomorrow."
You kiss her neck, this time more careful not to leave a mark.
"Put your hair in a ponytail. I need something to hold onto. You don't want me to mess up your hair, do you?"
You step into her huge office after the first half of the long meeting is over. Jisoo surely did not disappoint.
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Throughout the whole meeting, you were the only person aware of the fact that Jisoo is not wearing anything underneath that dress. She send you a picture this morning. She is only one button away from standing naked in front of you.
You walk around her desk, sitting down in her comfortable leather chair. Jisoo knows how the two of you will spend your lunch break.
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bloobharry · 3 days
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How’s your head? H.S
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She never thought she’d be into something like this.
Something which reduced her to such a filthy, whiney mess.
That too from her best friend.
Or,
Harry is Y/N’s best friend, and he just wants the best for her.
Content warning: mature content.
Word count: 3.8K
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When Y/N told Harry she wanted to hang out with him Friday afternoon, she didn’t quite think it would end up like this.
The original plan was to essentially do nothing all night. After a long, tiring week at work, nothing satisfied Y/N more than lazing around on her couch and snacking on all the chocolate sitting in her pantry she had been fantasising about having while at her desk. It was always nice to have someone do these things with you, though, where both parties could lie in silence, munch on snacks and glue their eyes to the television to forget everything that happened in the past workdays.
Y/N quickly realised Harry was the perfect person for this. He didn’t have much going on for him either so there was no reason why he would turn down a night of gorging Y/N’s pantry and flopping over her hunched body on the sofa so they could watch whatever show she was recently obsessing over.
And that was how the night started.
Harry came over at about 7, with a pizza for takeaway and a large soda, and claimed the furthest right corner of the couch, snuggled up with Y/N’s cat Lola. While Lola took her time sniffing Harry’s fingers and tentatively licking his knuckles, Y/N warmed up some popcorn and ruffled Harry’s hair as she walked past him to her spot on the other end of the sofa. “Heeeeeey,” he began, a furrow in his brows, “you can’t just do that. I put a lot of work into making it look this good.” Y/N rolled her eyes, “if it looks like that after all the work I’m afraid you’re not doing enough, Harry.” He didn’t say anything, only scoffed and shoved her legs slightly from where she had swung them on his lap, “you need to pull that stick out of your ass. Let off some steam or something.”
“Right and do you want to volunteer as my punching bag?” She retorted. She wasn’t really trying to be mean, a teasing grin on her lips when he feigned offence once more, “that’s not what I meant. There are other ways to release tension, you know,” he said.
“Harry, if you want me to drop-kick you, just say i—“
“What I want is for you to go out and get a good dicking so you can stop being such a menace to me.”
“I’m not being a menace, this is just how I am. I thought you’d know that by now.” Y/N’s eyes widen, looking at him like she can’t believe he hadn’t realised her quip-y and teasing comments have been entirely satire. “Menace or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been on edge lately and could go for an orgasm not brought to you by your vibrator.”
“Harry!”
”What? I’m just saying,” he said through a smirk. Y/N’s eyes narrow at his dishevelled sight, his hair just touching his collarbones and his black sweater swallowing him whole. “My orgasms are perfectly fine, thank you. And my vibrator does a very good job at helping me ‘let off steam’.”
He sighs, almost mockingly. “When’s the last time you got laid?”
“Why would I tell you?”
”Because I’m your friend. I promise I’m just trying to help,” he says sincerely. The dim lighting of the living room made his eyes sparkle and Y/N avoided eye contact by fiddling with her fingers.
God, there was just something about the fucker that made a person want to spill every secret before his jade gaze. “I dunno. Maybe five, six months?”
“Jesus Christ Y/N, what the fuck? Weren’t you seeing Daniel like 3 weeks ago?” His voice goes up a few octaves, looking at her all bewildered. “It’s Danny,” she corrected him, “and I stopped texting him a while back. He was a bore in real life and quite frankly, a bore in bed.” Danny was one of Y/N’s coworkers' brothers who she had tried setting her up with, and Y/N did have some fun with him at first. It was always nice having someone to flirt with back and forth and get compliments from every now and then but he just never scratched that itch for Y/N. She ended up ghosting him 2 dates in and she knows that's a dick move, but really a second more of listening to him go on and on about his mum and how much his new PC game cost would make Y/N want to gauge out her own eyeballs with a dinner fork.
“Did he ever get you off?” Harry asked. Y/N was incredibly appalled, not appreciating his prying hands all over her sex life. Or lack thereof. “No and that’s none of your business anyway, jeez.”
“There you go again, snapping at me. You know if you’ll ask me nicely I’ll stop.” He sat up against the arm rest, fingers grazing her bare leg from when he pulled it back on his lap. Y/N knew she could ask him to stop asking her all these questions and he would, but was it really a conversation with her if she wasn’t being at least a little bit hard to read?
Besides, maybe it would do her some good talking about it and whatever advice he had might actually help her out. Harry seemed to be more than well-equipped when it came to charming the heck out of someone and working his way into their pants. “Sorry,” she sighed, rubbing her eye, “no, he didn’t get me off. We never actually had sex, I just gave him a blowie once and he tried to go down on me.”
Harry smiled softly knowing he got her to crack and squeezed her calf, “tried?” He knew he was treading on dangerous waters here, wedging his fingers between Y/N’s brain and asking her to recall her time with Danny.
“Yes, tried. It was fucking awful.”
She didn’t meet his eyes, busying herself with the strings on her hoodie, “and he definitely came in your mouth?” Y/N’s cheeks went pink, and she quickly pulled her legs away from him, “Harry!” Her voice was high pitched and defensive, and while her mind told her that maybe confiding all this in Harry isn’t the smartest thing, her heart wanted to see where an odd conversation like this could lead.
“I’m just asking!”
She hesitated, narrowing her eyes. “Yeah.”
“Well fuck, Y/N, sorry to say it but you were seeing an absolute douche.” Harry makes this diagnosis like Y/N didn’t already know, his fingers reaching for her legs again, tugging them onto his thighs with a strength that made her tummy flip. He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “I know. It was fun but I didn’t want anything more with him.”
“Good. But you still need a good fuck. One where you actually get to come and don’t come back home all high and dry.”
Y/N gasps, trying to get off him again but Harry holds her down, laughing at her bright red embarrassed face, “you’re such a dick I hate you.”
His dimples dug deep into the soft of his cheeks, and he pulled her legs so she was sitting much closer to him. Her ass touched the edge of his thighs and she could feel the warmth radiating off of him, making her skin even hotter. Y/N remained frowning, shoving his chest when he wouldn’t stop giggling, “stop laughing, Harry!” For obvious reasons that doesn’t work and the little genuine crink in her eyebrows had him almost cooing and smiling wide at the same time. When she didn’t let up the frown and tried to move back to her spot, Harry only grabbed her hips and pulled her back, close enough that her ass was now on top of his thighs, “okay, okay I’m sorry. You’ve got a really funny angry face.”
Y/N was near seething at this point, gearing up for an attack, “I’ll show you an angry face,” she tried lunging for his hair again but very quickly realised she failed to take into consideration her position when he instantly caught her wrists in between his long fingers, holding them tight but not enough to hurt her, “okay, John Cena let’s take a breather.”
God, was he able to make her skin absolutely crawl at times. He was still holding her wrists when he brought them down, watching her blazingly. She didn’t realise how far she had shuffled into his lap and how close his face was to hers until now. Until she could smell the strawberry mints he was sucking on on his breath.
She made a half-hearted attempt to smack his chest, but his hold only tightened around her, suddenly dragging her even closer to him over the soft fabric of his sweats. Y/N held her breath. He was too close to her, his nose daring to touch hers. She’d never been in such a vulnerable position with him and she might possibly just faint if he didn’t stop staring at her mouth and then her eyes, flicking his gaze between the two like he couldn’t decide where to settle.
She moved her head back, trying to create some space between the pair, “what are you doing Harry.” The sound she makes is an odd one— one that she doesn’t make often and it’s desperate and needy, akin to a weepy whine. His fingers finally loosened enough for her to break free and she quickly moved her face away from his where it seems like it was magnetically pulling her closer and closer.
Harry didn’t say anything for a while and Y/N found herself frozen in her spot, still right on his lap. “What’s going on here, hmm?” He said, glancing down.
Y/N followed his gaze, confused at first and it took her a moment to realise what he was insinuating. His fingers grazed her hips. “What’s got you all squirmy on my lap?”
He was still staring right into her eyes, making her go crazy with the stolen glances at her lips with every passing second. Meanwhile Y/N’s chest heaved and she unintentionally shuffles again, “fuck, Y/N.” Harry’s voice was deep and groan-y, vibrating through her body when his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “I’m not squirmy, Harry shut up.” She was lying right to his face and her poor attempt at covering her actions made him laugh again. The sound was teasing, nothing like the light-hearted giggles spilling from his lips when he found her angry face amusing.
“You’re a terrible liar, Y/N.” His fingers fell to her upper thighs, which he gripped harshly. Only then when she couldn’t move did Y/N realise she really was practically rubbing herself against him, milking even the slightest pressure against her heat from his warm, pliant lap. Her face pinkened again, embarrassment coursing through her veins and making her want to dig a hole and hide in it forever. She couldn’t believe what she had just been caught doing.
Y/N expected him to fully push her off his lap, disgusted by her basically humping his leg, but he didn’t.
Instead, he dug his fingers into her skin and slowly helped her move back and forth, pushing her down just slightly to give her the friction she was searching for. Y/N’s mouth dropped open in another little whine.
“Will you let me, then?” His eyes searched hers, gaze sincere, though Y/N didn’t know what he was implying, only half listening to him. She was clearly preoccupied with the delicious pressure pressing right up against her clothed clit.
“What?”
Harry laughed, a large, ringed hand slipping over her ass to squeeze lightly. “I said, will you let me make you feel good? Help you relax? Have you gone dumb already, baby?” Y/N couldn’t really do much other than nod frantically, afraid he might pull away if she didn’t say yes. The pet name melts her even further, paired with the way he was holding her like he was going to swallow her whole made her insides slosh.
She preens under his gaze, now holding the front of his sweater tightly between her fingers. “Yes,” Y/N breathed, “yes please.”
Harry wondered for a second if she was agreeing to being cockdumb or agreeing to him touching her but nonetheless he took it as his queue to push her off his lap and position her the way he wanted.
“I—what, I thought you we—“ Y/N protests, neediness evident in her voice and her hands which chased after his warmth, like she was afraid he was going to leave her be in this desperate state. Harry only pressed on her shoulder until she laid back on her back, hands coming to part her legs so he could fit between them, “shh.” A wet kiss was pressed to her cheek, like comforting a rabid animal, which Y/N was feeling exactly like as she stared at Harry’s frame cowering hers.
His curls hung past his ears and tickled her face when he slotted his hips between her legs so she could continue grinding down on him, “who knew you were such a needy little thing?” Y/N sighed in response. Another suckling kiss was pressed to her jaw, “do you need me to make you feel good, baby? Hmm? Need me to make it better?”
The way he was talking to her made her feral.
She had trouble believing this was the same Harry who irritated her to no end and pushed all her buttons to rile her up. Except this time he was pushing other kinds of buttons, moving his body around hers so perfectly Y/N wondered if this was like second nature to him.
“Yes. Please don’t tease me.” She commanded him and Harry chuckled at her desperation, lips sponging these warm, slow, gooey kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. When she went to sift her fingers through his curly hair, he pulled back to look at her. “You’re so bossy,” he accuses, pulling her thighs further up his hips, “it’s okay though. I’ll fuck the attitude right of you.” He grinded down against her, one strong roll of his bulge against her heat. “Are we going to have sex, Harry?”
“No.” He grinned.
“Why?” Y/N’s eyes crinkled in pain like he just told her her cat died and her lip jutted out in a pout which Harry quickly tucked away with his thumb. “Because,” he started, using that same hand to wrap around her throat, “we need to talk about that before we do anything. Don’t want to lose my best friend, do I?”
His rejection almost made Y/N cry and she would have had Harry not tightened his hand around her jugular. The cold press of his rings sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. “Why would you say anything then?” She asked, craning her neck to allow him more room to cover with his palm.
“I said I won’t have sex with you. Didn’t say I wouldn’t make you feel good.”
With that, he took the hand that made a home around her throat and patted her cheek, hard enough that the feeling went straight down to her tummy but soft enough that it didn’t hurt her like someone might think it would. He crawled further down her body, shoving her hoodie up with his hands and exposing her stomach to the cold air of the room. Y/N thinks he was trying to keep up some boundaries, bunching the shirt just below her tits like protecting some kind of modesty and pressing ticklish kisses across her skin and down her belly button. Her body tingled with anticipation, breath bated and eyes glazed as she watched him.
She felt him nuzzle into her tummy and inhale loudly, “you smell so fucking good.” Y/N giggled, taking pride in her extensive shower routine and incessant rubbing of various lotions into her skin, “thank you.”
When his mouth reached the waistband of her tiny shorts he murmured a small, “can I take these off?” To which Y/N hummed in agreement. She couldn’t agree with anything more. If Harry walked up and out of this room right now, Y/N was certain she would die.
Once they’re off, Y/N realised she was completely at his mercy. Her underwear is the only thing protecting her modesty, and with how wet she’s feeling, she doubts there’s anything left to the imagination down there, “would you look at that. You’ve soaked right through.” His fingers toyed with the edge of her wet gusset.
Another embarrassingly desperate sound left her throat and she pushed her hips in the air in search of some friction. Harry delivered a harsh slap to her thigh, “don’t move.”
His stern voice did unimaginable things for her but she complied and tried to stay as still as she could, which seemed like a task for the impossible with the teasing touches Harry delivered to her skin.
She never thought she’d be into something like this.
Something which reduces her to such a filthy, whiney mess.
That too from her best friend.
Harry doesn’t do anything for a while, just admiring how her pussy looked soaked through her panties, playing around with the lace lining of the fabric. He grabbed the gusset and pulled it tight against her so her folds swallow the cotton, “fuck. A little manhandling and this is what happens?” He more so makes a statement rather than asking her, punctuating his words by leaning down to lick a wide, sloppy strip across the cloth. It makes Y/N squeal and attempt to shut her thighs but Harry makes sure to hold her down, biceps bulging.
He pulled back to drop his fingers firmly against her clit, just keeping them there pressed tightly, feeling her heartbeat against the tips. “I thought I told you not to move.”
“Yes, I’m sorry please, please don’t stop.”
He went back to nosing at her covered clit, not making any attempt to wrap his lips around it. At this point Y/N was itching in anticipation, every ounce of her working not to rut her hips in his face and ride his tongue like she wanted to. When he finally touches her again, it's where the wetness pooled, soft suckling kisses over the fabric which made Y/N’s heart and pussy flutter.
She was incredibly frustrated, wanting nothing more than to rip her underwear off and shove his face into her but she held back, not sure if Harry would appreciate that after he made it clear time and time again how he preferred her to remain immobile while he played with her. Instead she waited until he was through with kissing every inch of her and when he finally peeled off her panties, she could practically come just from the prospect of having his mouth on her.
He doesn’t give her a second to think though, because his mouth is unrelenting. Teasing the tip of her button with his tongue before circling his lips around it and suckling in sweet, soft pulses. The sensation has her panting and gasping, squeezing his head between her thighs while one of his arms swung across her hips to keep her down and the other wiggled between the two to push her lips apart in a V shape. With her clit now exposed to the cool air, Harry zeroed in on the nerve and worked magic with his tongue, flicking it up, down, left, right and circling the button with such fevor Y/N could burst.
What electrified the experience was the sounds in the room, which were just sinful.
Her pussy squelched with each suckle Harry gave, making Y/N moan and pull Harry’s curls which in turn had him groaning lowly against her. It was an endless cycle of pornographic music.
When he pulls away from her clit, the pulsing it does is almost amusing, like it was personally begging for Harry’s attention. Instead he kissed down the length of her slit and took his time playing around with her folds, slicking her hole and letting his spit drip down to her ass.
It was so perfect and messy.
Before she knew it, Y/N’s thighs were shaking and Harry’s tongue was back to abuse her poor button. A couple more flicks and a harsh kiss pushed Y/N over the edge, her orgasm washing over her and nearly blinding her. It’s euphoric and the most intense she’s ever felt, no vibrator of hers or cock she’s ever had compared to what she was feeling and even then Harry didn’t let up on her pussy. He continued his assault, now both of his arms locking around her hips to tone down her thrashing. Only when she pushed his forehead away did he finally depart with a final lick across her slit and smiled at her fucked-out state.
He wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and brought it to his lips, sitting up between her legs which she clinked shut. A second passes.
“Are you okay?” Y/N’s eyes were shut, an arm thrown across her forehead. “I think so.”
Harry giggled, leaning over her to remove her arm, “how’s it feel?”
“S’good. It was really nice. Thanks.” She was slightly dazed, too far gone to really understand what was going on. Her limbs felt like jell-o and she let Harry kiss her cheek again before lending her a hand to help her sit up. “I’m glad. Come on now. We need to clean you up.”
She doesn't know how she stood up from that godforsaken couch and how she made it to the bathroom, Lola returning from her retreat to her bedroom to wind around her ankles. Harry bent down to pet between her ears, “hello babydoll. Did you miss me?” He cooed.
She looked down at the pair and Harry easily sensed her wary gaze. A dashing smile was sent her way. “Do you need me to get you some underwear? Or are you afraid I’ll stumble across your array of sex toys?”
Y/N rolled her eyes. He was still the Harry she knew before he gave her the best head she ever received.
“You’re such a dick.”
“A dick that gave you the best orgasm of your life.” She couldn’t even argue with him on that. Instead, she flipped him off and disappeared into her room. Once she was all changed and wearing a fresh pair of undies and shorts, she walked out to see Harry passed out on the couch with Lola snuggled into his throat. It was then when her head finally returned to the ground and she realised the gravity of the situation.
The looming prospect of a long, painful chat in the morning hung over Y/N like a dark cloud, filling her with a gnawing sense of dread she suddenly couldn’t seem to shake.
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Divider by @firefly-graphics
Hiiiii i hope you like this one, first time posting in a long time so feeling a little nervous omg … leave feedback if you have any!!! Mwuahh
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rosesaints · 11 hours
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:* HIT ME HARD AND SOFT!
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DID I BREAK YOUR HEART? DID I WASTE YOUR TIME? ⸻ t. fushiguro, g. suguru, n. kento, g. satoru
summary: your breakup (and sometimes makeup) sex experiences with jjk men when inspired by the new billie eilish album! angst. warnings: 18+ mdni, mentions of infidelity, lots of angst lol, unprotected sex, breeding kink (nanami), fingering, oral (f!receiving)
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: ̗̀➛ TOJI FUSHIGURO
I SAW YOU IN THE CAR WITH SOMEONE ELSE AND COULDN'T SLEEP! if something happens to him, you can bet that it was me.
toji doesn't know how he feels about the fact that you've moved on, and he decides to do something about it.
"is this really what you're doing now? living the dream?"
toji has this remarkable talent of sensing when you're finally at peace. you had just been dropped off at your aparment by your date, and the dust hadn't even settled yet before toji materialized by your door.
"that's exactly what the fuck i'm doing," you scoffed. red hot anger coursing through your veins as he acts like your relationship was nothing more than a lunatic pipe dream. like the very prospect of you being happy with someone else was an idea so foreign, it was laughable. "go home, toji. i don't even know why you came. did you really think that coming here, guns blazing and chest puffed up, would convince me to come back?"
toji appraises you for a moment, and it shouldn't send a shock down your spine, but the next thing he says does.
"has he made you cum?"
you freeze.
the truth was, your date hasn't. poor guy couldn't even last four seconds inside you before cumming, sheepishly evading you afterwards to clean himself off to properly satisfy you.
"you heard me, sweetheart. i won't ask again," toji grins. "what's wrong? where's all that fire you had earlier?"
"n-no," you try hard to fight the humiliation that threatens to bubble over in your chest. "not...not yet⸺"
he's stepping forward in mere moments, crowding you into your apartment and locking the door behind him, a wicked smile on the edge of his lips.
"you know, i like this new persona of yours. seriously, i really do," he's so close, invading your personal space and you can feel how hard he's getting against your thigh. "all this bite, all this fire, it's fucking sexy. but i think it's time to stop fucking around and come home, yeah?"
you know there's only ever been one way to go with toji.
"you poor thing," much later, to his delight, toji's got his one of his hands working back and forth over your cunt, pleased at how soaked and needy and docile you were, hips jutting forward to meet his rough, calloused hand. his other hand's wrapped around your much smaller hand, jerking him off in a brutal and agonizing pace. he curses at the way you're grazing your teeth over his neck, whimpering every time he circles your clit. "fuck. so fucking needy."
"pretty little cunt's gone so long without being touched, huh? that's okay," you shiver when his voice drops, dripping with determination. "we've got all week to make up for all that lost time."
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: ̗̀➛ GETO SUGURU
I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO SAY IT. you could've been the greatest.
you've tried your best to keep geto satisfied for the longest time, to let him get his rest, but you can't fight how alone you've felt anymore.
"you'll go," the words are exhausting and holds the weight of a future you can never have. a future where he doesn't go, a future where you don't have to settle for staying. "and i'll stay."
you've watched him come and go for years, sometimes with a smile on your face, most times with tears in your eyes. this time, you're struck with the realization that you just feel nothing. none of the flightless uncertainty, none of the promises that you tell yourself that he'll find his way back. it's terrifying.
"i think we have to end it, sugu."
there was no prelude, no warning signs. geto had stopped by the night that he came back, soft and boneless and aching for your touch and your comfort. the realization hit you in the middle of such a routine and familiar night, geto sprawled across your bed in the most peaceful state you've seen him for so long as you got ready for bed. it kills you to have to shatter that, but you think it'll shatter you if you keep holding back. "don't know how much more i can take of this."
geto sighs. he would be stupid to not see this was coming.
every time he said goodbye only got harder and harder and harder, and he could see the way you dimmed every time he pulled away.
but he was selfish, so selfish, and willed himself to ignore it and hold on for a little bit longer. to chase that high of getting to know you, getting to feel your touch on his skin, spend nights draped across each other and whispering sweet nothings.
he nods. "i understand."
when you join him underneath the covers and he leans into your touch, hot and full of want for things he can't have, you let him take the clothes off your back, let him drift lower and lower until he presses sweet kisses to your thighs.
your breath stutters, and he wants to consume you. wants to remember how you taste, how you whine and plead for more, the way you used to look at him with reverence. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks like he wants to make a home out of you, hand reaching up to cup a hand around your breast and graze your nipple.
tightening your thighs around his head deprives him of his oxygen, makes him forget what's going to come next.
you come on his tongue, heart hollow and echoing.
he could've been the greatest.
"i'll come back," there was something solemn in his voice, a grief that overcomes him in waves. he pushes a loose strand of hair away from your face and knows. "and you'll come with me."
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: ̗̀➛ NANAMI KENTO
OPEN UP THE DOOR, CAN YOU OPEN UP THE DOOR? i know you said before you can't cope with any more.
it's been a year since you broke up with nanami. you don't know what to say, so you let your actions speak for you.
you're not sure why you called. it came so easily, like muscle memory, typing his number into your phone and calling a number you haven't dialed in a long time. it rings once before he's picking up, voice laced with worry and confusion and the sound of your name on his lips sounds like everything you've missed in the past year. "what's wrong?"
"kento, come home. i miss you," your breaths are coming out in shallow waves, anxious and jittery as you await his response on the other side of the call. "i know i said before that i can't cope anymore, but i want to try, really try this time."
"i'll be there soon. stay... stay right where you are."
it takes him all of seven to come knocking at your door, chest panting and leaning against the doorway in a daze, like he's still in disbelief that you've allowed him back. "is this... is this real?"
he's had dreams about this exact moment, plagued with the thoughts of how it ended the last time, how you'd broken down in his arms in defeat⸺he's had time to think through every possible scenario, every way that he could prove to you that he would change, he would make you a priority, spend the rest of his days making it up to you.
"i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you⸺" nanami, normally so composed and careful with his words, can't help that all his emotions, all the love he's held safe for you in his chest, tumbles out like a flash flood. all you can do is nod helplessly,
when you cum, it's with a gasp, back arching off the bed as he maneuvers your body with an easy familiarity that can only be acquired through years of experience, years of knowing your body inside and out.
he's not too far behind, getting closer and closer the more he looks at your wrecked and fucked-out expression. he laces a hand through yours, intertwined.
"never gonna let you go again," his thrusts are getting more impulsive, thoughts going hazy when he thinks of you, swollen with his baby with the happiest expression on your face. "i think it's time we start a family."
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: ̗̀➛ GOJO SATORU
I TRY TO LIVE IN BLACK AND WHITE, BUT I'M SO BLUE! i'd like to mean it when i say i'm over you.
your ex-boyfriend gojo just can't bring himself to get over you.
in a lot of ways, being with gojo was like staring into the sun. on your first date, he had taken you on a picnic overlooking the shakujii river to go see the cherry blossoms. your head was on his lap and he had gently titled your head back, chuckling as you closed your eyes as per his instructions. "just close for a moment," you hummed, but the sensation of warm sunlight was overtaken by the feeling of being cradled in his hands. "open your eyes."
for a moment, all you could see was light, vibrant blue. eyes adjusting to the sun, until bright sapphire eyes came into focus. it was the happiest you had seen him for a while. "did you feel it?"
at the time, you didn't understand what he wanted you to see, didn't know what it was that he wanted you to search for.
did you feel it?
this time, the roles are reversed. you're cradling his head in your hands as he's fallen to his knees in front of you, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay as he presses his head into your abdomen, shoulders shaking with the intensity of his emotions, holding onto you like a lifeline. "satoru, i don't know if i can keep doing this anymore."
"no, you don't mean that."
"we can't keep doing this," you weren't a fool. you know he hasn't been doing well, can see it in the dark circles that have temporarily made a home under his eyes, the cursed energy that radiates off of him in waves. "you can't just keep coming back, sa⸺gojo. you have to move on."
when he rises, he places his head onto your shoulder, and for a moment, the rush of familiarity overpowers you. "satoru. just say my name please, that's all i'll ask for."
"satoru⸺"
he's pressing warm, soft kisses against your neck, nuzzling and inhaling the scent of your hair. his hands are exploring the length of your back, fingertips slowly dragging across your skin. when he pulls back to look at you, sapphire eyes shimmering with unshed tears, you find yourself spiraling again.
it's so much easier to forget that it's over, really over, when he's fucking into you like it's the last time. it's in the slow drag of his dick as he takes his time to soak it all in, the sensuous pace that he knows drives you crazy. you're not sure where you end and where he begins, hands holding onto your waist like a lifeline as he snaps his hips. it sends tremors down your spine and you see stars behind your eyes.
satoru cups your cheek, and it's like burning alive, like a fever you can't shake. "that's it, sweetheart, fall apart for me."
when you pull the blanket over him later, under the soft glow of the moonlight, you think you realize what he meant all those years back.
he's all you could see.
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© ROSESAINTS ! — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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deonsx · 2 days
Text
If They Take Aphrodisiacs
Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor
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Content: Nsfw, Smut
Dazai Osamu
The nights you spent with your boyfriend always made you very happy. Whether it was the way he always cherished you, the gentleness and the sensual feelings he gave you... the words that made you beg him all the time, you always loved these, but have you ever thought about the possibility of him begging? Wouldn't you like it if he begged you with a sexual hunger just like you? Since you started thinking about this, the direction of your desires changed and you decided to make plans
He is an intelligent man, it is only a matter of time before he realizes what he is drinking, but since he would not expect such boldness from you, everything became simpler. You gave him a heavy aphrodisiac syrup mixed with the drink you gave him that night, and he made a grimace when he first drank it. "It was sour than I thought, shouldn't it be spoiled?" You replied, taking a sip of your own drink. "I don't think so, it's Chuuya-san's choice." You cleared the doubt in his mind by saying so. "Ahhh Chuuya?? It's definitely poisonous then"
Dazai went to sleep half an hour later because he wanted to go to bed early tonight and you couldn't escape the idea of ​​wearing something nice. You went forward wearing sensual dresses. Dazai looked very calm, which made you suspicious... When you approached him, you saw that he was sweating slightly "My love..Are you okay, it looks like you have a fever" " you spoke, placing your hand on the brunette's forehead "Ahm..I don't know, I feel weird"
You grinned slightly "Is my boy really tired today" you played with his curls and placed kisses on his forehead which made him suddenly pull away from your arms and lay on top of you "I thought you were tired Osamu" He barely smiled "Hah...I-I feel warm" you gently cupped his cheek and kissed him. holding his arms, you changed your places and now you were on top, you sat on his tent and lightly rubbed him "uhhh..Love please..I need you"
"Really darling? Let me hear you beg for more" brown eyes looked at you sharply from under their long eyelashes and then their lips let out a deep breath "I need you..I want you my love..please don't turn me away" you slowly unzipped his pants and they were already sewn. You revealed his tent
"Now I see more clearly how much you need me, my love"
Chuuya Nakahara
It was an ordinary day at work. PM days had never been this tiring. You weren't sure if it was the duties or the new blonde girl that was tiring your mind. Are you jealous of your boyfriend from that girl? But she won't betray you, you trust her... But it seems like that girl is trying to use Chuuya's kindness. It's been 2 months since that girl came, but you were bored now, something was happening every day and she was visiting your boyfriend's office, files? enemies? information? boast? she was really trying to seduce him
Every time you tried to talk about this with your boyfriend, he denied it and said that the girl was just immature and was just trying to reinforce things with questions. No matter how angry you got, you couldn't do much. Instead of focusing on these, you thought of focusing on your relationship... something that would make him listen to you, something that would make everything sprout again. well..a few drops of aphrodisiac
You changed the same boring day at work completely. Chuuya wanted his usual morning coffee in his office, but he didn't know who made the coffee. When he entered his office with a coffee in his hand, his eyes narrowed with a warm smile. "My love..Did you make coffee for me?" you nodded slightly and placed the coffee in front of his desk "It was stupid to argue with you about that girl last night dear" chuuya bowed his head slightly and took a sip of his coffee "it's okay from now on I'll make sure he doesn't come into this room that often I promise"
While you were talking, chuuya started to sweat and his breaths became faster. "It was hot.." You blinked your eyes as if you didn't know. "oh? are you sure about that..that you weren't the one who was actually hot...?" his eyes quickly found you, "Did you give me an aphrodisiac, darling, I didn't think you would do this at work" you stood up and walked towards the chair your lover was sitting on and sat on his lap "my love, you were so busy with work these days, I wanted you to give your mind to me"
you covered him with your kisses you left bruises on his neck and gently unbuttoned his shirt "You are so naughty s/o..." you giggled and just rubbed on his lap which made him moan "nghh~ don't make fun of me dear" a knock on the door stopped you both but the voice was the person you wanted to hear "Chuuya-san Can I come in?" That high pitched and affectionate girl's voice, Chuuya couldn't even answer as he was out of breath, but the girl already wanted to enter so he opened the door quickly "Chuuya-...." When you turned your head back you saw the girl's disappointed expression
"Leave me and my girlfriend alone intern"
Fyodor Dostoyevski
Your boyfriend literally doesn't have time for you and this isn't just a 1-2 week thing, it's been 2 months, he can't take his mind off his plans to beat the detective agency and his mind games with Dazai, he doesn't even look at you. You even tried to tell him this "Fyodor... I know you're on the job but "I missed you." He frowned slightly and turned his head from the computer to you. "When the time comes, I will make you forgive me for this indifference." In the second attempt, you prepared a meal for him, but he did not leave his room. In the third attempt, you fought with him and unfortunately, you argued and you tripped without taking a step back. He didn't try to forgive
Finally, one day, an idea came to your mind, you knew he would get angry with you, but you still thought it would solve the problem between you, and now you were upset with him. Normally, you were always the one to hold people back, so this time, you were going to use it. You went home, Fyodor hadn't arrived yet, you prepared a meal and put a lot of your syrup into it. , time has passed. Finally, your lover came home, his eyes looked at the already prepared dinner table, then he looked at you. "Dinner?" He knew you were upset with him, normally he wouldn't eat dinner, but this time he sat at the table for you both.
It was a quiet dinner, as you'd expect, and no sound was heard leaving him. After the meal, the usual work change went on, nothing happened yet, you didn't see any reaction, did it go wrong? Didn't it show aphrodisiac performance? Was the amount not enough? Everything was empty, you took steps towards your room and you were passing by your boyfriend's study, you stood as still as possible until the rapid breathing became louder, very light moaning sounds, it was easy to hear his sounds in the quiet house.
It was fun to listen to your voices. Only the lights were illuminating the dark room. You slowly opened the door, but I guess Fyodor didn't hear it. The voices continued in the same tone. You looked into the room with your eyes and saw your boyfriend, who had thrown his head back and grasped his dick with his hands.. He was trying to help himself.. How sad..." Does someone need my help?" purple eyes opened like they were shining in the dark and they turned directly to you "What did you put in that food...haah.." as the light moans continued he removed his hands from his cock and tried to cover himself, you directed your steps towards him "What does it matter...I just wanted you to understand your mistake dear." fyodor's eyes narrowed in disdain "I don't need any help-" you slowly sat down on your boyfriend's lap, who was sitting on the chair, and felt his cock start to get wet under his pants. "nnnghh stop it...don't make fun of me"
“If you tell me your wishes, I will not hesitate to give them all to you, my love”
Enjoy!
We are 800 people, thank you everyone for supporting what I wrote^^
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tosotd-f1 · 3 days
Text
McLaren Orange
*based off the song “tennessee orange” by megan moroney*
lando norris x fem!reader
warnings: fluff *first person pov*
summary: y/n was raised in a ferrari family, but a special driver in the papaya car gets her to wear the mclaren orange.
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I felt as if I was going to throw up. My hand hovered over my mothers contact, shaking from the knots in my stomach. I knew I shouldn't be nervous, but knowing the way my family is I couldn't help it. Finally after convincing myself to tap the icon, my phone began to ring. The ring went on an awful long time, making me feel even more terrified.
"Hi Mama," I say into the phone once she picked up.
"Hey darling," Her sweet voice echos into my ear. How am I supposed to tell her this?
"I've got some news for you," My voice cracks.
"Is everything alright? You're not in trouble are you?" Her tone becomes serious, I could tell she had her eyebrow raised looking towards my father.
"I'm not in trouble, Mama" I laugh slightly, "But, don't tell dad about this, please."
There was silence on the other side of the phone. I knew she was debating listening to my request, but also on not. I heard her shuffle around a bit. Maybe she headed into a different room for privacy.
"I know you guys raised me to know right from wrong, and I know you're thinking I did something wrong, but don't worry everything is okay." I sigh, "It's just, I've never really felt this way. I don't know where to start."
"You can tell me anything, sweetheart." She reassures me, my heartbeat already calming down.
"I met this guy," I mentally smack my head in embarrassment.
"Oh, I was expecting something totally different." She laughs loudly.
"He's got these gorgeous blue eyes." I feel my cheeks grow warm just thinking about the way his eyes look into mine. "He even opens the door for me. I don't think he's made me cry once."
I had met Lando after the Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix. A couple of my friends and I decided to go out for the night, we needed some freedom. Just that morning we were all wearing our red gear, cheering for the Ferrari's as they raced. Lando just happened to be at the club we decided to go to. He was with a couple of his friends, hanging around the dj booth in the back. I must have felt risky that day because I walked up to him, congratulating him on his race. Yes, I congratulated the enemy. We ended up talking a little longer. A little longer was the rest of the night.
"He's not from where we're from." I explained, "But, he feels like home somehow."
"Where's he from?" She qustions.
"The United Kingdom, Bristol actually." I tell her.
"He sounds like a very lovely guy," She compliments him. This makes my heart warm. Hopefully the rest of the story wont make her too upset.
"I've done things I've never done before with him, Mama." She could probably hear my wide smile through the phone. "He took me to this beautiful restaurant the other night. Oh, and we went cliff diving too!"
Talking about just a few of the adventures we had been on together already made my stomach burst with butterflies. Thinking back to when our hands were holding tight to each other as we jumped off the tall cliff, waiting for our fall to be caught by the blue water. When he gave me his jacket after our dinner because it was raining.
"There is one thing though," I hesitate.
"What is it?"
"Mama, he's a driver." I try to lead up to the fact that he's a big racing star, but not for our big team.
"He's a driver? Like a racer?" Her voice fills with excitement. "Are you dating Charles Leclerc?"
"No Mama, not him." I laugh, "He's not on Ferrari."
Yet again there was a silence on the other end of the phone.
"Mama, he drives for McLaren." I whisper, a weight being lifted off my shoulders as I did so. "Lando Norris."
I heard the door open from the phone, she was walking up to my father.
"He took me to Spain with him, that's why I was gone for a little while. He gave me the hat he had sitting on his dash when we got to the airport." I try to distract her from telling any information to my father. As long as he's a good guy why should it matter? "Mama, can you forgive me? Don't tell dad, please. I like him a lot."
"Honey, I'm not mad at you. I can't change the fact you like this boy. As long as he doesn't make you forget you look better in red." She sighs, the phone now on speaker mode.
"I don't know, his smile makes me forget sometimes." I fiddle with the rings on my finger.
"Hi daddy," I say quietly, knowing hes listening into the conversation. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."
"Your mother and I are so happy for you, Y/n. I could never be mad at you for chasing your heart."
"I still am rooting for Ferrari, don't worry." I laugh, feeling relieved by their acceptance. "But if you every see me wearing McLaren. Just know I'm wearing the orange for him."
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v-hope · 2 days
Note
glad you’re missing TF bc me too, i wanna see them finally settling and knowing they’re ready for the next big step in their lives or even just discussing building a family after grad or when they’re at a good stage in their careers🥺🤧
pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader
genre: slight angst, flufffff, established relationship, non-idol au
warnings: pregnancy scare, mentions of condoms, mentions of unprotected sex
word count: 2.3k
a/n: um. hello after years lolll. i started going through very old requests in my ask box yesterday in case i found anything that’d bring some inspiration to my very uninspired self, and i found manyyyy tiger flower ones and this one in particular reminded me of a headcanon of mine that i never wrote nor mentioned (i think) but for some reason it was??? an actual Thing???? in my mind????? so yeah lol here i am. i don’t think anyone even cares about tiger flower (minus one person. u know who u are<3) anymore, BUT fuck it, i missed them and enjoyed writing this. i hope whoever reads it enjoys it too, bye<333
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A pregnancy scare wasn’t something you were expecting only two months into moving in together after your graduation. It wasn’t something you were expecting at all.
At most, you and Jeongguk had agreed on getting a puppy as a new addition to your family of two. Said discussion happened when the two of you had only been together for a few months, a little over a year ago, where you both agreed on moving in together after you graduated college and then get a puppy right away.
Moving in together was not up for debate — you knew so the moment Jeongguk got a job in the last year of college and so did you, saving enough money to get a decent place and looking for apartments throughout the entire year, so you could secure a lease as soon as your previous ones ended. On the other hand, although you were still excited as hell to get a dog, once you were settled in your shared place, you were both too busy and overwhelmed trying to keep up with your new jobs and all the new changes in your lives to even think of adding another responsibility on top of them all, let alone one that had to do with a living creature.
If neither of you felt ready to get a puppy yet, how the hell were you supposed to raise a child?
Your heart beat so fast against your chest, you felt like you would pass out any moment, as you paced around the bathroom while you waited for the pregnancy test to tell you whether you’d bring another human being to the world in nine more months or not. Endless thoughts running through your mind as you did so, and you internally cursed at yourself for not having waited outside with Jeongguk instead — God knows you needed his arms around you to bring you comfort.
You definitely needed Jeongguk to hold you, you realised the second the alarm you set as soon as you took the test finally went off, managing to somehow turn it off with your shaky hands, and fighting not to drop your phone as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment before taking a look to the test on the sink.
Once you earned enough courage to finally open your eyes and focus them on it, you exhaled all the air you didn’t know you were holding up until then — instant relief washing through your body.
Negative.
You were given another chance not to raise a child when neither of you were ready.
And yet, a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed, empty even, now that said possibility was out of the way.
Although it was not the right time, a family with Jeongguk was something you’d always be happy about — and something you were only now realising you longed for way more than you thought you did.
Coming out of the bathroom and meeting a very distressed Jeongguk waiting right outside the door, you shook your head no right away, just like that letting him know you were on the clear this time around.
He let out a heavy, shaky sigh, rubbing his eyes with his palms as he processed the news, before he pulled you into his arms like you so badly needed him to — melting into his familiar touch and inhaling his scent as you felt yourself begin to calm down.
He said nothing, you said nothing. Your arms around one another and feeling each other’s comfort were all you needed right then.
Jeongguk didn’t let go until he felt your body stop trembling, only pulling away enough to rest his forehead on yours and cup your face in his warm hands.
“You okay?” He wondered; for a change, not being able to tell what the expression on your face meant right then.
He genuinely didn’t know whether you were relieved or not. And, therefore, he didn’t know how to react to the news. Yes, he had sighed in relief a minute ago, but that was as much as he’d let himself express until he knew how you felt about the whole situation.
You nodded, still a little bit stunned — not knowing whether you should say what was on your mind. Then again, it was Jeongguk the one in front of you, holding you. You knew you could tell him anything and he would understand, or at least try his best to do so.
“Is it wrong that I feel a little bit disappointed?” You finally mumbled, catching his attention. “I mean, I know we’re not ready, and we haven’t planned it at all and I would be so fucking terrified had it turned out positive, but, I just…”
“I get it,” he stepped up when he realised you wouldn’t talk anymore, gently reaching for your hands and holding them in his. “Of course I’m relieved we’re not having a baby right now, but… a part of me really wants to start a family with you now”.
“Now?” You playfully raised an eyebrow.
“Not now,” he panicked. “But, I mean, in the near future, but not that nea—ugh, you get it”.
You couldn’t hold back a giggle, biting your lip when he rested his head on your shoulder, embarrassedly hiding his face in the crook of your neck.
“I know,” you reassured him, running your thumb on the back of his hand. “I can’t wait to start a family with you either. It’d be cute, wouldn’t it?”
He nodded — one hundred percent on board with it, yet pensively.
Up until that day, you hadn’t really discussed your future together. It was more of a given. Unspoken, but you both knew you wanted everything with each other. From moving in together, to getting married, to having kids, to growing old together.
Maybe it was finally time for you to actually bring those thoughts up.
“What do you think is a good age for us to start trying?” Jeongguk wondered, his voice gentle as ever.
You puckered your lips as you pondered your options. “I mean, we’re only twenty three this year… Maybe in another two or three more?”
“Yeah…” he quietly agreed. “We still need to get the hang of living together on our own…”
“Getting a puppy…” you added.
“Save some money” Jeongguk considered.
“Get a bigger place”.
“Get married”.
You smiled at his addition, feeling the by now very familiar butterflies fill your stomach. Reaching your hand up to cup his cheek, you sweetly ran your thumb over the corner of his mouth.
“You wanna marry me?”
“I am marrying you, Y/N” he confidently stated, only to feel his cheeks burn the next second when he caught the way your eyes lit up. “I mean, if you’ll take me, of course…”
You giggled once again, this time throwing your head slightly back as you rejoiced at the new bit of information your boyfriend had just provided you with. “I am marrying you so hard one day, Jeon Jeongguk”.
He beamed, giggling against your mouth as he searched for it and trapped your bottom lip in between his smiling ones.
You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh of your own, wrapping your arms around his neck when he held you up by your thighs and took you to the sofa only a few steps away in your living room — not letting go of you for a second as he carefully lied on his back with you on top of him.
Lying your face comfortably on his chest, and running your fingertips up and down on it, you let out a contented sigh.
“So, kids sometime after we’re twenty six?” You returned to your previous conversation, before you got carried away by your desire to spend the rest of your lives together.
He hummed in response. “We should already have achieved all our previous goals by then, so I think it’s the most reasonable”.
“After twenty six it is then” you settled, smiling brightly when he reached for your hand and interlaced your fingers. “How many would you like?”
“Two or three would be nice,” Jeongguk confessed. “I’m okay with as many as you’re willing to have, though”.
“I always thought two… a girl and a boy” you admitted, feeling him smile against your head. “But I wouldn’t mind having three of them with you” a smile curved up your lips at the simple thought.
He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Two girls and a boy, or two boys and a girl…”
“What if it’s three girls?” You looked up at him.
“That’d be nice” he smiled.
“And if it’s three boys?”
“That’d be nice, too”.
“Mhm…” you squinted your eyes, suspiciously staring into his. “You want at least one girl so bad, Jeon Jeongguk”.
“I didn’t say that?” He defended himself.
“I can see it in your eyes” you playfully poked his forehead.
He rolled his eyes in amusement, tightening his hold on your hand to stop you from poking him again. “Well, sue me for wanting a mini version of you”.
Your heart melted, and you were pouting before you knew it. “I want a mini bun, too”.
“Too bad, we’re only having three girls now” he teased.
“Shut up,” you whined, slumping your face back down on his chest. “You just created a new need for me”.
Jeongguk’s chest trembled as a blissful laugh escaped his lips, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you so close to him you almost found it hard to breathe. You would never complain about it, though, let alone when his lips began to pepper kiss after kiss on the crown of your head.
“I love you,” he said. “And honestly I’ll be happy with whatever sex they are as long as they’re ours and we raise them together”.
His words brought tears to your eyes and a lump in your throat, being apparently still too sensitive over the whole situation not to feel like crying when he said the most reassuring words you needed to hear.
“You’re gonna make me cry” you let him know, looking up to meet his doe eyes once more. “But I’ll be the happiest as long as that’s the case, too”.
Jeongguk smiled timidly, gently pushing your chin slightly up for your lips to come in contact with his; pressing a soft kiss on them before his arms were once again tightening their hold around your waist.
“I’m sorry” he mumbled, nuzzling your hair.
“What for?” You questioned.
Jeongguk shrugged, fingers drawing small circles on your back. “For putting you through this…”
You chuckled, burying your face in his neck. “It takes two to make a child, bunny. Which we didn’t get to make, by the way”.
“I know,” he pouted, holding you somehow tighter against his body. “But last time I was too horny to go get a condom”.
You snorted. “Nothing we haven’t done before. We just tested our luck for the hundredth time and it backfired on us for once”.
Although you weren’t looking at him right then, you knew a pout had just formed on his bottom lip. You tenderly kissed his chest, in hopes of making the sad look on his pretty face go away.
When you felt him be distraught still, you decided to switch the mood a little bit.
“Still, I did have the scare of my life, so we’re going on a sex strike for a bit”.
His mouth fell open in disbelief, pulling you up by your shoulders so he could look you in the eye. “You’re not serious”.
“I am” you stated, trying your best not to allow your lips to break into a smile. “One month at least”.
“At least?!”
“Aren’t you the one who went twenty one whole years without having sex?” You raised a teasing eyebrow. “This should be nothing to you”.
“Petal…” he whined, hiding his face in your neck. “It’s not the same now”.
“Why not?”
“Because I got a taste of it with you two years ago and I can’t control myself around you now, you know it”.
“Sucks to be you” you shrugged. “One month starting today”.
Letting out a defeated cry that could only have you finally releasing the laugh you managed to hold for so long, he rested his head back against the couch.
“Can this month end already”.
“So you’re just accepting your fate?” You were the one in disbelief now. “You won’t even try to convince me otherwise?”
“No, it’s up to you” he said, closing his eyes as he threw an arm over them. “If you don’t want me to touch you then I’ll just keep my hands to myself and suffer in silence”.
You half cooed, half laughed, not having expected such a touching answer to your playful question. Then again, it was Jeongguk the one you were dating; you should know better by now.
Removing his arm from his face, you pressed a brief kiss on his nose. “I love you, bun” you ran your fingers through his hair. “As if I’d be able to go a whole month without jumping your bones”.
“Now don’t say it like that” he laughed, throwing one of his legs over your body and making you lie on your sides now.
Properly face to face now, you cupped his cheek and gently caressed it as you rested your forehead on his. “Give me two weeks tops to shake the fear off my body?”
He nodded, lovingly bumping his nose on yours. “As long as you need me to”.
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zae-heeyyy · 3 days
Text
Recalcitrance
Summary: You and Ms. Grimshaw just can't get along. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,763 Tags: fluff, kissing, high honor Arthur Warnings: camp violence, angry Arthur, suggestive themes
a/n: I have mixed feelings about Grimshaw. I think she's a very enigmatic character. Still, based on interactions I've seen with her, I feel this isn't too far off. These always end up super long for some reason. Idk how that keeps happening. Anyway, I hope you enjoy; thanks for reading!
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recalcitrance: resistance to authority or guidance, often characterized by defiance or disobedience. It implies a refusal to comply with rules or expectations, despite attempts to persuade or control.
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You and Abigail Roberts went way, way back. Working girls stuck to a code; part of that code was looking out for each other and ensuring you returned after one of your "shifts." Abigail ran away for a while, leaving you to assume she'd met a rich man and settled down.
When you met her again, she introduced you to Dutch Van Der Linde and company; you fell in with them shortly after. Since then, you constantly scrubbed blood from clothes, slept on the ground, and ate whatever game Pearson could find for the stew. Many girls you knew would never trade that life for this one, but you had a family to return to, even if they weren't the most conventional. And amidst it all, you'd found something you didn't think possible for you. 
You were drawn to Arthur Morgan instantly. The little things spoke volumes for you—how he checked on you in passing, the moments spent playing dominos together, and his overall politeness towards you. The bar was in hell, but he treated you so differently than any man ever had. Arthur's dumb cowboy act didn't fool you for a second, and you were captivated by him.
After one too many inadvertent shoulder grazes and incidental hand touches, the chemistry between you had become undeniable. Following a game of dominos he let you win, the stocky man asked you to take a walk with him. You weren't too far away from camp before you found yourself pressed against a tree by him in a heated kiss. So many thoughts swirled around your head. You were in the middle of nowhere; it was pitch black, and you were being hunted by the law, yet there against that tree was the safest you'd felt in a long time. 
Then, on another fateful night, you were alone with him at the campfire while everybody else had settled down. A sly smirk crossed his face, and he scooted closer to you, grabbing and kissing your hand. You giggled, maintaining eye contact as he kissed up your arm, gradually, a low groan escaping him. One thing led to another, and he guided you into his tent. You let him have you, and you, him. 
It was then, when you were on the brink of your climax, half-lidded eyes staring upward into his, that you finally understood what people meant by lovemaking. When it was all over, you got up to leave out of habit, but he drew you back into his arms and asked you to stay.
Since then, you've been his girl, and he made sure everybody knew, always kissing you before he left for a job, settling you into his lap at the poker table, or sneaking you away from your chores to spend time with him. You saw each other for what you were, not the labels that had been applied to you. And you loved him so much.
For the first time in a long time, your life was good. Well, mostly, except you hadn't quite mastered the life of navigating Ms. Grimshaw. Over the almost year you'd known her, she was rarely nice to you. She seemed more tame when Arthur was around, but he wasn't today.
By noon, you had gotten sick of hearing her voice, and she seemed more ornery than usual. The nagging was constant: do this, don't do that, do this faster, do this slower. You wished she'd shut the hell up and leave you alone. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you saw her speed-walking towards you.
You were sitting, about to light a cigarette, when she approached, red-faced, huffing, and talking fast, "There you are," she started, putting a finger in your face. "Sitting around like always. I have had it with you!" You stood quickly out of instinct and opened your mouth to speak, but she cut you off. "You're useless around here, so why don't you go into town and start selling yourself again. At least then you'd finally be carrying your weight!" 
Her words stung like branding, making your heart race and your eyes sting. The few people left at camp had gone quiet. Mary-Beth looked on nervously while Karen was glaring at the older woman. Your heart pounded in your ears, and you spoke faster than your brain could process.
"All you're good for is being an ugly, hateful bitch." As soon as the words left your mouth, she swung on you. It was a backhanded slap that stung and broke the barrier that was holding back your tears. You recoiled, holding your stinging face.
"Know your place, girl, before you end up somewhere worse than on your back. Now get!" She pointed towards the edge of camp.
"Screw you," you said, quickly wiping away a falling tear, "I'd rather fuck every man in town before I keep letting myself be treated like this." You stepped up to her, " Want me to leave? Well, I'm goin."
And you did. You collected what little belongings you had into a bag and charged out of camp, eyes forward and your head held high. Tilly and Mary-Beth tried to stop you, but you marched down the dirt path until they couldn't see you anymore.
"Look what you gone and did you old hag," Karen spat, "Oh, just wait til Mr. Morgan gets back. Bet you won't be so high and mighty then." 
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Arthur didn't ride in until sunset; he searched for you before even getting off his horse. His face fell confused by your absence, and just as he was about to inquire, Mary-Beth and Tilly approached. He knew instantly that something was wrong.
"What, what is it?" His eyes searched theirs. They looked at each other, silently debating who'd break the news to him. It was Tilly who stepped forward, putting a calming hand on Arthur's arm. She talked low and cautious, "Arthur, she—her and Ms. Grimshaw—they—" She was cut off by Karen and Ms. Grimshaw beelining towards them.
Karen's voice boomed, speech slurred. "Go ahead, tell 'em." She waved her beer-clutching hand between Arthur and Ms. Grimshaw, defiantly meeting Susan's gaze before tearing her eyes away to meet Arthur's. "That wench Grimshaw smacked her across the face and ran her out!"
Clenching his fist involuntarily, he leaned into Karen, talking low and steady. "The hell are you talking 'bout?" His chest was rising and falling quickly now.
Ms. Grimshaw stood resolute and waved him off. "This doesn't concern you, Mr. Morgan. This is my camp, and these are my girls and my rules," she finished, arms crossed, staring at Arthur.
Stepping close, he imposed his broad figure on Ms. Grimshaw, flashing a smile that was anything but inviting. He took on a tone he rarely used with the women.
"Oh, Susan, that's where me and you disagree. This may very well be your camp, and you can make up all the rules you want, but she's my girl." His face had straightened into a scowl by the time he finished.
"Well, I'll—" she began incredulously, hands still on her hips, but Arthur threw up a halting finger.
"Look, Ms. Grimshaw, I respect how you run this camp, but that girl, she's off limits. Now, I'm gonna find her and bring her back, and you can raise all the hell you want, but if you lay a finger on her again—" 
"Arthur..." Tilly cut in warningly. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, ending his conversation with Susan. "Where'd she go?" he asked no one and everyone at the same time, speed walking to his horse.
"She took off down the road," Mary-Beth called out, but his horse was already kicking up dirt. Riding as fast as he could, he reached the nearest town at record speed. He hitched the horse outside the train station, forcing the doors open with his shoulder. The place went quiet, everybody focusing on the sudden disturbance. Arthur ignored the looks he was getting, scanning faces for yours. Spotting you took no time, and you stood as soon as you recognized him. He rushed to you, taking your hands in his; concern riddled his face— a rare sight. Guilt washed over you as you looked up into his eyes; you opened your mouth to speak, but he started before you.
"You alright?" he asked, looking you up and down. Dirt had stained the hem of your skirt, and your eyes were tired; his frown grew as he looked you over. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your head to his chest and nodding.
"Wasn't gonna go, just needed to get away for a while," you murmured into his chest. Rubbing your back soothingly, he exhaled with soft, relieved laughter. One arm still around you, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze with his free one.
"Don't you go walking out on us. Least without tellin' me first."
You agreed with a quick bob of your head, and he pulled your chin in towards his, kissing you on the mouth. He withdrew and gestured to the bench you'd risen from earlier; you both sat. Arthur wrapped a big arm around you, and you buried your face into his shoulder.
"That woman hates me," you grumbled with a pout. Arthur squeezed you closer, and a faint grin formed on his lips.
"Nah, she never liked any girl I brought around. Give her more time." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It's all outta love, I think," he concluded. You huffed at that, disbelieving.
"She got a funny way of showing it."
"Sure," he chuckled again. He sat for another minute before gently nudging you off his shoulder. Grabbing your bag and standing, he asked, "So you gonna come back with me?"
You tried to sulk but couldn't when he was standing there waiting patiently with his hand out. You finally relented. 
"Fine, but I ain't just gonna take it next time," you declared, taking his hand. A big smile stretched across his face. 
"You ain't gotta do nothing you don't wanna. If any of those fools have a problem with it, send 'em to me." You made your way out of the train station, hand in hand. You paused, gazing at him with a quirked eyebrow.
"I can handle myself just fine, Arthur Morgan." Another chuckle built up in him as he threw your bag on the horse. He turned to kiss the top of your head before grabbing you by the waist and lifting you up on the horse.
"I know, darlin'."
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thisismeracing · 2 days
Text
Not quite love | CL16
read the full piece here
― Pairing: charles leclerc x friend!reader (she/her) ― Warning: mentions of alcohol and food; friends to lovers; angst; unrequited love; not been proofread yet; 2k words. ― Summary: When you get romantically involved with your best friend you were not expecting a marriage proposal, but simply a commitment. You were sure that what you had wasn’t quite love, though it could be and maybe that’s what hurt the most. The fact that you had everything to be each other’s end game, but turned out to be strangers. 
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preview
You and Charles had everything to be the perfect couple.
To have the perfect story.
A book-worthy one.
You were long-time friends.
Though your family wasn’t very fond of him, his family loved you, and that was enough. Over half of your friends in common hinted about you guys getting together. The dynamic was this good from the outside, and so was the tension whenever you were together. 
You would share desserts, dance with each other, sleep in the same bed after friends get together –nothing sexual ever happened, and maybe that’s the reason why it was so intimate and ground to tension flourish. It was beyond the physical. At least for you. 
It all took a turn when you finally moved to Monaco to study and work.
*****
“Don’t cry, chérrie,” he cooed, lips finding a few droplets of tears and cutting short their path on your cheeks. You turned your head in his direction, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of his warm skin against yours, seeking the solace of it. 
The Monegasque read the way your body leaned in, the way your face felt hotter against his lips, and he lined his breathing with yours giving you enough time to pull back, but you didn’t. In fact, you broke the barrier of space between you two, pressing your lips in a feverish kiss. Charles answered in a second, gripping your waist and bringing you impossibly closer. His tongue was demanding, and his body against yours felt different than the other times. More intimate. 
“Fucking finally,” you could almost hear your friends with their hands up to the heavens, so you chuckled, ultimately breaking the kiss. Charles grinned.
“If I knew this is all it would take for you to smile I would have greeted you with a kiss,” his teasing earned a giggle from you.
*****
[...] At the end of the day Charles would sleep at your place –or you at his– at least once a week. You would still share movie nights like when you were just friends. He would still send you funny TikTok he watched, and you were still telling him about all the books you read. 
Those were things boyfriends and girlfriends did, you knew that, nevertheless, you wanted to believe that he was planning something. Or that maybe he already saw you that way. Maybe he was afraid of the constant travel and the pressure of his career and media. Maybe he was trying to protect you from the fans. 
Charles never voiced any of this. Never sat down to talk about it, and you didn’t ask. Not until you graduated and got a job proposal in America. It wasn’t France, Germany, or Sweden, places you knew would be easier to gravitate to Monaco when the schedule let you. It was oceans apart, but it also felt like an opportunity to compromise, to keep your –hopefully official- relationship going. 
The thing is, life is unpredictable. You can’t guess what someone is feeling or how they will react. Your mom would always tell you that the heart is unknown ground – a place nobody will ever explore in its plenitude. You only get in the rooms the other allows, and even then inside there are tons of places that not even the owners visited. 
To know yourself is hard, and to know the other is even harder.
You didn’t know Charles.
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paymechildsupport · 2 days
Text
"Sink your teeth in me"... // Heian!Sukuna x Reader
He just wants one... teeny tiny bite...
-!! Unsanitary, cannibalism used as a literal form for "love", slight body horror, food play (in a way), Sukuna is genuinely so kitten coded ┍━☽【❖】☾━┑
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----- -- ------ ■━■━■━■ ------- -----
He likes food-- eating is canonically his favorite pastime
So what if in the past he got a lil carried away, -- took a lil nibble, a quant chomp outta your flesh? He's entitled to that much, right? I mean, you should feel honored, the King of Curses deemed you as something fit to eat-- that doesn't just happen to anyone now
Back in the Heian Era, he may just stop by your humble abode from time to time, grace you with his presence like the benevolent creature he is.
You're all bloody, and it's not even yours. You feel sick, the tangy taste of bile boiling in the back of your throat, the metallic smell of blood invading your nose. You were going to be sick
But don't worry! Sukuna will be more than happy to clean you up himself-- he's just a nice guy like that.
The river? No, silly! His tongue is a much more adequate bath for you, -- and good thing he has so much of it. Embracing you, cleansing you of the stains of his sins, he'll hold you as he laps the blood from your skin. It may take quite a bit, only working from the top down, -- which is why you're in luck because it so happens that he can always just spawn more! Mouths on each of his four hands, latching on and suckling on tender skin wherever he grabbed, as if you were some fine candy. You yelp, feeling the large, wet mass of the mouth on his stomach. Usually just a simple slit in his torso, you vastly underestimated how big the thing actually was. Its tongue swipes out, licking its lips, smearing Sukuna's saliva all over his own stomach. He couldn't care less. The warm, pink muscle snakes out, swiping a long, wet line all the way up your back, ripping a shudder from your body. You were so slick with his spit, your skin had a watery sheen to it, -- god he was so sloppy with it, making such a huge mess of himself and you, but that was always half the fun, the obscene provocative nature of the act what made it so appealing in the first place. You were so pretty, skin all red and angry from him licking it raw, your entire figure littered with adoring marks. He just loved you like this, laid bare and shivering in his arms, dripping with his spit-- you were so vulnerable, so trusting to leave yourself in such a compromising position at his feet, perfect for the taking. He would ravish you.
He'll start with a lil' kiss, -- something cute. Just a wee lil' sample. Maybe you'll even get more than one, a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your neck down to your collarbone. You wouldn't mind if he took a little lick, right? Just like a kitten, little careful swipes of his tongue, licking up your spine. You just taste very sweet, he jus' wanna taste some of his beloved human some more, -- because he loves his darling fleshbag human. He adores you so, simply just indulge this for him. He'd start to take small nips at the soft flesh of your neck, his sharp, elongated canines teasing over your jugular..... nahh, he wouldn't do that to you. He'd relish in your slight spike of adrenaline at the immanent death poking at your windpipe-- he quite literally has you in his jaws, -- like a little rabbit in the jaws of a big bad wolf. He's practically drooling, thin strings of his saliva drip down into the crook of your neck. His breaths are long and almost labored, each exhale sending a resounding shudder throughout his body, pressed at your back. He's starving, you the five-course meal that's gonna fill this empty void of his stomach. Certainly, you can't deny him this, this tiny small thing. He takes the skin over your shoulders between his teeth, sucking softly. Just a lil' more, that's all he needs, just one more small bite, you're doing so well for him. Drops of blood peek out from the indents made from his sharp fangs, which he eagerly laps at. Just a lil' more... yeah, just like that, let him gnaw at your shoulder, -- you just taste so good he almost can't control himsel-- oh, there go your shoulder blades, whoops
He really didn't meaaaaaan to, honestly :( you're just so good- you can't blame him for getting carried away-- I mean, it is technically your fault for tasting so damn delectable. He wanted your heart, and he'd tear it out with his teeth if he had to. You just bring out that animalistic side in him, -- hunger is the main utility for survival, afterall. Even the most simplest of organisms have to feed on something. He loved you like a wolf, a ravenous wolf who just came across their next meal-- snarling and slobbering and so, so messy
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┕━☽【❖】☾━┙
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hey-i-am-trying · 2 days
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hi, tripoier here! Long text incoming alert and a detailed explanation of the situation for qsmpblr (also sorry if I make some typos I'm writing without translator)
Yeah I also saw what happened today with the og admin of Pepito and I have a lot to say about it. First of all I'm not speaking in behalf of the community but I'm my own experience of the situation. I watched the development of Pepito's story since day one and fell in love with that little guy (and his laggy PC). Then second day arrived and I noticed the admin change bc he was less laggy and I've learned enough Portuguese and 07's (Richas admin) mannerisms to recognize when he's playing a character, even Roier noticed but didn't say anything until the screencap incident lol
Few day passed and 07 created such a cute and wholesome personality for Pepito, that contrasted very well with the role that roier was having at the moment— that it's understandable that it may not be too comfortable for some people but for the ones that had been watching Roier's story in the server + his relationship with Bobby, we take it with humor/hope for him to heal slowly after what happened in Purgatory and with Bobby (and believe me, Bobby had a HUGE impact on how Roier behaved with the rest of he eggs after his death)
So during the days 07 played as Pepito all the tripoiers were in this state of hope because we knew how much q!Roier was trying hard to not to get attached to Pepito, he knew the moment something happens to him he was gonna suffer A LOT, and Pepito was this pure, innocent ray of sunshine that it was imposible for us not to love immediately (Roier also did from day one but he loved to play with us + his lore at the moment was being in depression for the lost of his husband and having Richas and Leo in their comatose state). Also, is worth to mention that after he discovered it was 07 the one playing as Pepito he became more playful and started to tease him just to make him go out of role (and succeeded one time). Which is why he used the chancla a lot with him, as a shield for the feelings that were starting to grow on him again.
Then, Otipep happened.
This is the part I'm gonna be more careful to explain bc there is a language barrier that for the people who don't have Spanish as their first language they cannot understand or got confused
When Otipep appeared Roier noticed that it was another admin playing as Pepito because 07 was busy helping with Q's lore, we don't know if he recognized immediately that it was the original one or just a random temporary admin, but he noticed that this Pepito appeared where the fist one disconnected (in the garden outside of his house). Some people noticed that it was the original one and got happy bc it meaned that finally Pepito had his permanently admin back and bc Richas and the others eggs were also back from the coma we could see them both at the same time (roier used to joke about it every time 07 was around)
We also thought that the og admin had been catching up with the role that 07 has built so far with Pepito (which was not, and we would never know if it was either miscommunication between the admins or the og admin just decided to ignore the actual role to keep their 'idea' for the role), so at first we were a little bit shocked when this Pepito started acting so "dry" (idk if this is the correct word) with Roier, bc we had already gotten used to Pepito's tender way of speaking, but we just let that pass for a bit.
But then that "dry" behavior started going to go down a path were even we as an audience started getting uncomfortable, because roier was trying to socialize with the admin but they clearly didn't knew what's has been going on these past days, so Roier take the time to make a summary of the last days with his typical chill humor, and while he was doing that everything reached its final point with the sign "hueles a culo también hijo de puta" = you also smell like ass son of a bitch.
now This. THIS right here is what destroyed everything. Because you would say "oh, it's just Pepito following Roier's game, it's was in a playful way".
No.
It. was. not.
When Roier starts calling someone with some swears or related words is always in a playful way, and there is context and trust behind. When Otipep put that sign Roier was making a summary of the role that 07 has been doing with Pepito, bc he didn't wanted to let them behind, and while doing that he always explain with his usual humor to make it less unconformable for the admin/ entertained for his audience.
So when he placed that sign we all get out of the loop because it came from nowhere, even Roier kept silence of a few second because 1). it sounded rude, that sign was so out of place 2). Roier was explaining the last few days to the admin so he can keep up with the role, he was not "joking" with the admin, or moving on to another topic, he was helping the admin. 3). We, as an audience, felt so shocked because they weren't saying that to Roier in a playful way, they were giving weight to those words. And this is the part that people that do not have Spanish as their first language doesn't understand. They gave weight to the insult. They didn't wrote that as a joke, they directly INSULTED the streamer.
Then roier proceeded to hit him with the chancla bc he wanted to take the control back of the situation in a humorous way, a damage control in other words, because the chat was filling with "??????" And people getting offended and angry (justified, even I felt offended) with the admin, but Roier is not of those type of persons and he always try to make his streams a safe place for his community, so if you ask me he did a really well job handling the situation even tho he felt offended and his audience noticed that for the rest of the stream (hell, even days later)
And if that was not enough, Roier kept trying to save the situation but the admin was not cooperating, with the "no he preguntado"= I've not asked you and other sign that I just don't remember and is not really worth it (and bc Otipep literally left Roier speaking alone with the "I'm going to look for better parents" and went to spawn zone), he just gave up trying and waited for Richas to come back (which was also chocked w the situation)
And this is me speaking from a non-neutral tone, but I think we could've had a Roier being super loving and caring with Pepito if this situation didn't happen in the first place, bc after this I noticed that Roier stopped tried to get close to Pepito, the situation really affected him so whatever role he was building with the character he just simply stopped and changed the dynamic with another one more limited and less parental, but keeping his usual humor bc it was not the fault of the actual admin or 07, it is what it is unfortunately.
That's why I'm so glad that the actual admin and Ricardão did such a good job saving Pepito because the Spanish speaking community was about to drop him, even streamers friends of Roier that are not part of the qsmp acknowledge the behavior of Otipep with Roier (if that doesn't say a lot about how complicated it was on this side of the road)
And even after all these things there was people out there calling the Spanish speaking community as dramatic or harassing Roier when the situation happened (and it seems they still do it :/ ), but most of us kept quiet because we respect Roier and as he says, mejor pasamos de movidas.
and well, this is it, I know I'm missing some points in the story but honestly getting into fights or hate in general is not my thing, I wanted to give some context for the people of Tumblr because I know, at least here people take the time to read and are more chill unlike twt, and I hope I gave some clarification for the rest of the communities that are not native in Spanish, I really really love Pepito and I'm so glad we had 07 and the actual admin there to play this character, I still can't believe that person had the audacity to come out proudly as Pepito's 1st admin when literally no one from the Spanish community considers his 2 appereances as canon after their blunder xd
Thank you for sharing!
I understand that some stuff are hard to translate, thank you for taking the time. I didn't know that your community was being called dramatic because of that! That is dumb as hell and I am sorry it happend in the first place.
Of course we are no in business of spreading hate. I have always tried to see the other side of situations, I think from what I read in the admin's doc they had some kinda of vision for the character, but I guess they didn't realized that well, they were not going to become automaticly friends with Roier and have room to "joke" like that just because they have become an egg admin. Probably my best guest of what it happend.
It is really weird, maybe they were banking on the support that the other admins have gotten? Or they actually never realized how insulting they have come out as.
Well, I don't have much to say, except I am sorry it happend at all with Roier and the hispanic community.
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shinsocest · 1 day
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No. 003
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♡ AKA: "Fated" ♡
Notes: another from my archive :) I originally wrote for a friend of mine. Also @boosyboo9206 I remembered while drafting that the Kuroo one had a lot of this au's context so we out here rawdogging the fics understanding lmao.
wc: 4.6k
warnings: fem reader, soulmate au, alpha/omega dynamics, shameless use of the Terushima scene, no protection, explicit consent (but for those who don't fully get abo its probably dubcon), Hajime type behavior but very soft imo. Just a very self indulgent alpha Iwaizumi fic.
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Iwaizumi glowers at nothing as the bass thumps around him.
Well, not nothing. If he had to choose, he’s definitely glowering at Shittykawa, even though he can’t find the annoying bastard. Iwaizumi might be at a party but he isn’t really having the greatest time. He’s only there because Oikawa dragged him to scope out their rival frat’s party, the first of the new semester.
He wasn’t in the mood for any of it; Iwaizumi would have preferred to be at home studying and going to sleep early enough for a pre-workout before practice tomorrow. So everything is pissing him off. He can’t find Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki are too busy joyfully causing everyone to stare, the two alphas shamelessly making out on the couch, and this is the third fucking time they’ve played this song in the last half an hour. Who cares if it's popular?
Iwaizumi is stuck prowling the house looking for the brunet alpha so he can drag him out of here by the scruff of the neck. There’s hardly a difference between this party and any of the other’s that they’ve thrown themselves. Being here is fucking pointless.
As he’s rounding the corner, finally escaping the sitting room and its herbal smoke cloud, Iwaizumi gets a whiff of distress scent. As faint as it is, it's enough to make him turn around to search it out. It seems to be coming from a pretty omega, fingers wrapped too firmly around a plastic cup, cornered against the wall by a familiar blonde undercut. Iwaizumi can see the polite annoyance plastered across your face, the firm shake of your head as you deny whatever advances Terushima seems to be making. As assertive as you appear, Iwaizumi can smell your anxiety, the sour ripple of your scent burning faintly in his nose and blocking out something sweeter that lingers beneath it all. The rival fraternity president doesn’t seem to be taking no for an answer.
Iwaizumi growls under his breath. He’s not in the mood for this. Even on a good day he can’t ignore this stereotypical alpha behavior, but today has not been a good day.
There’s no hesitation as he changes direction towards the pair. He can feel the red creep into his vision as Terushima wraps a hand around your wrist, trying to entice you closer to the pounding music where people are dancing, not letting go even when you dig your heels in to remain rooted in place.
He gets close enough for his voice to be heard and throws his scent out. The potent, pissed scent of a territorial alpha. Conversation dies in the throats of everyone nearby as they catch wind of it. Terushima’s shoulders stiffen at the strength of it and he turns, in the same moment as Iwaizumi speaks, gruff and deep,
“Baby, who’s this guy? He bothering you?”
He hopes you get it.
Both of you snap their heads to him, Terushima’s smile dropping immediately while your eyes widen in relief. Iwaizumi relaxes as you take the bait, quickly scooting around Terushima to snake your arm around his. Some people look on curiously, but most skitter off and mind their business.
Good, it’s not a fucking show, Iwaizumi growls internally.
“What took you so long,” you pout at him and Iwaizumi almost grins at how easily you slip into the role—but then he remembers how often this crap must happen for this to be necessary and the upturn of his lip disappears. He levels a heavy stare at the other alpha as he responds.
“The guys held me up, I came as soon as I could.”
“Thought you said you came alone?” Terushima throws out casually.
Your fingers tighten around his forearm, “I didn’t say I wasn’t meeting anyone. You didn’t seem too interested in listening to what I had to say.”
Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows at that, glad you were brave enough to put the other alpha in his place. The pain in Terushima’s uneasy smile as he forces a laugh soothes some of the anger simmering in Iwaizumi’s veins, and his shoulders relax as Terushima makes some half-assed excuse about checking to make sure the kitchen was stocked.
Once the blonde disappears, Iwaizumi turns to you, gently slipping his arm out of yours. He eyes you with concern.
“You okay?” You’re shaking slightly. Eyes wide, slightly wet, and a little unfocused. His concern grows immensely, glancing at your drink. “Did he give you that? Do I need to take you somewhere?”
Those words seem to shake you out of it. “No,” your voice is low, the tremor to it barely audible over the music. “I got this for myself, and I kept it away from him. I’m just—he made me nervous is all. Thank you for stepping in when you did.”
Your trembling hasn’t stopped, even though your voice grows stronger as you speak, that anxious scent of yours spiking through your scent blockers. He can see the little patch now that he is closer, and realizes how scared you must still be if it’s getting through.
“He was being a dick. Anyone would’ve done it,” Iwaizumi mutters, ducking his head as his cheeks warm visibly. The way you eye around the room nervously unconsciously brings more words to his lips. “Were you meeting anyone? I could help you find them.”
Slowly, you shake your head, worrying your lower lip. “My friends cancelled last minute. I wasn’t even planning to come tonight and honestly... I’d rather be home. I just don’t wanna risk running into him again.” You lower your head, looking embarrassed.
Iwaizumi can’t think of a single reason why you should be.
Again, he speaks before he thinks.
“I could walk you home if you want.”
“Really?” Your head pops up, mouth dropping open a little in surprise.
“I mean, I was leaving soon anyway. I didn’t want to come tonight either,” Iwaizumi admits. “I could call you a ride if that’s more comfortable. It’s not like you know—” His mouth snaps shut awkwardly. He hasn’t even introduced himself yet. “—Sorry. I’m Iwaizumi.”
You warm at the abashed expression on the handsome alpha’s face, your heart fluttering slightly.
His heart rate picks up in return as you give him your name.
“I don’t mind if you walk me home,” you say shyly. “It’s not far, if you still want to.”
Iwaizumi pulls out his phone and shoots identical messages to each of his friends explaining where he was going and telling them not to stay out too late. He didn’t want to wake up to them stumbling into their shared house drunk and waking him up.
The walk is short, but not awkward. It’s filled with easy chatter, simple questions and revelations that always seem to come up when you meet someone new. You’re easy to talk to, and Iwaizumi is oddly disappointed when you stop and gesture to the apartment complex next to you.
“This is me.”
Iwaizumi blinks. He… doesn’t want to leave. He can’t explain the feeling, this insistent pull towards you, but it would be incredibly inappropriate for him to ask for more of your time this late. Dipping his head, he murmurs a goodbye and starts to turn, but he feels a small hand gripping the waist of his shirt.
He turns in surprise to see you've frozen. You look more than a little lost, as if you aren't sure what came over you. He waits for you to speak.
“C-can I have your number? It was nice meeting you, and I’d like to see you again, if that’s okay?” By the time the words are done tumbling from your lips, your voice has risen to an uncertain squeak.
A little shocked by the turn of events, but gratified nonetheless, the brunet alpha offers you his number, trying to keep his grip on the goofy, pleased smile that he can feel trying to form on his lips.
“You can call me any time.”
For the first time tonight, his eyes slide down to your outfit, only just beginning to appreciate the way the fabric of your skirt shows off your legs, resting tastefully at mid-thigh. Not a skirt, Iwaizumi realizes, but a cinched dress, hugging each line and curve of your body, modestly covered by a half-jacket. The warm scent of chocolate wafts under his nose and he gets a little lost in studying you, something burning hot within him as he imagines what it would be like to peel the fabric from your body, how warm your skin would be against his own.
Iwaizumi blinks.
It takes a moment to realize how close you’ve gotten. Then Iwaizumi feels the heat radiating off your skin, and his eyes flick to your own, staring at him just as intently. He clears his throat softly and steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets. He mutters a quiet goodnight and starts heading home, and nothing short of stupid alpha pride bursts in his chest when he turns his head to see that your eyes are following him. He hopes you don’t wait too long to call.
The house is quiet when Iwaizumi finally makes it back. There’s already a text on his phone from a new number, and he smiles as he sends a quick message in return. It’s only through the sheer force of will that he manages to fall asleep that night, closing his eyes firmly and ignoring the sudden urge to dig through the cabinets for something sweet.
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Iwaizumi wakes up sweating. At first, he believes that the air conditioning has been turned off, but when he stumbles into the hallway, he finds it running at a cool twenty-three. He’s nearly vibrating in his skin, wondering what woke him. The digital clock on his nightstand reads 3:17. He fell asleep almost four hours ago, so there’s no reason he should be awake. A sweet scent wafts around him, faint but nonetheless catching Iwaizumi’s full attention. He mindlessly prowls towards his hamper and his fingers close around the tank top he discarded tonight. The warm scent of chocolate assaults him and his knees buckle.
A growl tears at his throat.
He’s growled before and often, a bad alpha trait that his parents did their best to train him out of, with general success when you think about who he had to grow up with. Lord knows he’s had every reason to, between Shittykawa and the meme team duo as friends. But this is different. The faint sweet scent brings with it a feeling beyond fathoming, and an itch, a drive that up until now he’s only heard stories about. It’s powerful, a true force of nature, a howling urge inside him to run to the one fate has decided is his. There’s no doubt in his mind who sparked this feeling as he presses the fabric of his discarded shirt to his nose, inhaling deeply. The scent is already fading and that brings a rush of panic to his system. He needs you.
In his haste to locate his phone, Iwaizumi slams his shin against the corner of his dresser, cursing at the immediate pain that blossoms up the limb as he finds your contact and calls. He’d bet his soul that you’re awake, the primitive energy buzzing beneath his skin too transcendent for him to be feeling it alone.
It feels like an eternity as he stands there, breath caught in his throat. You answer on the fourth ring.
“Iwaizumi.”
“Are you okay?” He spares no pretense; from the single word alone, Iwaizumi knows. Your voice is hoarse, and not just because it's the middle of the night. There’s raw need scratching at your throat, a desperation that his body mirrored the moment he heard your voice.
“I… what is this? Please, it’s so hot.”
Iwaizumi is already throwing clothes on, the phone pinned between his chin and shoulder as he shoves his leg through into a pair of sweats. “You know what this is. I’m—” on my way. He freezes for a moment. Do you even want him to come? Soulmate or no, you have no idea who he is. You… might not want him. “—Do you want me there?”
“Iwaizumi…” Your breath is heavy and panting through the receiver, and then there’s a soft gasp, followed by the faintest moan. When he thinks about why you might be making those sounds... Iwaizumi thinks his blood might be on fire.
“Do. You. Want. Me. There?” He can’t help but bite the words out, can’t help but demand an answer. He has to know now before he loses to the animalistic urges inside him. If you tell him no, a small part of him might go deranged, but he’d do whatever it took. Rut or no rut, he’d have Shittykawa strap him to the bed before he did anything against your wishes.
“Please. Please come.” Fuck. The sound of your voice, so small, pleading. Frantic. “Iwaizumi, I need you.”
“Hajime.” Now Iwaizumi’s voice is hoarse. “You can call me Hajime.”
“Alpha—” There’s a broken moan, followed by a frustrated wail.
Iwaizumi inhales sharply. “Did you just—?
“Please hurry. ‘S hot, hurts without you. Feels wrong.”
He’s already out the door. It’s not until the dawn air raises goosebumps across his skin that Iwaizumi realizes he didn’t even grab a shirt.
“Hajime?”
“I’m still here. I won’t hang up. Just… Pretend it’s me, I’m already on my way.”
“Trying, ‘m trying. God it’s not—” Your voice is driving Iwaizumi insane. Labored, pained. He should be there and you shouldn’t sound like this. He should be holding you, inside you, until there’s nothing left to feel but—
Fuck. Fuck.
Iwaizumi inhales slowly, trying to calm his racing thoughts as he reaches the end of the street. “How many fingers?”
“W-what?”
His voice lowers to deep rumble, “How many fingers are fucking your pussy right now, omega?”
Your answering whine tells him that he has your attention now. “Ahn, t-two.”
"Good girl, add another. Reach as deep as you can and don't stop touching your clit. I wouldn’t do that." Iwaizumi's breath is coming heavy as he just about tears across campus, glad it's still early enough that no one is walking the grounds yet to hear him spewing such filth.
"It's—It's not enough—" Your broken mewling is so miserable that it stops him in his tracks, trying to keep his voice steady so he can console you.
"I know, I know baby, I'm so sorry." The pet name slips from his tongue without really thinking, his feet already carrying him forward again. "I'm coming as fast as I can. I'll be there soon, it'll be okay."
"Hur—ahn—H-hurry."
Fucking hell. Iwaizumi feels the threads of guilt that such a pathetic sound sends a blazing heat down his spine, centering on his groin. He can't help it; hiccuping sobs and moans, paired with the mental image of you desperately thrusting your fingers into your cunt, trying to make up for the weight of the knot you can't provide for yourself—Iwaizumi's canines ache. He doesn't hang up the phone, continuing to talk to you over your sounds of distress as he approaches your apartment complex.
Then he’s inside, hesitating in the doorway of the lobby, and you stutter out your apartment number. Third floor. Desperation prickles within him now that he’s so close so Iwaizumi doesn’t wait for the elevator, bounding up the stairwell, two steps at a time.
He can already smell you, your scent is coating almost the whole floor. He reaches for the handle of your door and growls under his breath. The door is locked, barring him from you.
“Baby girl,” Iwaizumi strains, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “You gotta open the door.”
There’s a small thump on the other end of the line and he calls your name again. You’re slurring into the receiver, nearly sobbing, a loud tremor in your weak voice.
“I can’t. My legs are shaking, alpha please—Hajime.”
Damn it. Iwaizumi inhales then puffs out a breath of air, trying to psyche himself up. His mate needs him. “Fuck, okay. Okay. Listen, I will fix and pay for everything, promise.”
“Fix…? Hajime, what are you—”
Iwaizumi feels bad but he hangs up, slinging his phone into his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he pulls one leg back and aims a heavy kick on the door, close to the doorknob. The wood crunches, the latch protesting under the assault, but the door doesn’t open. Praying to the gods that the neighbors are heavy sleepers, Iwaizumi does it again, and again, and again, until the door crashes open, the metal doorknob broken and dangling from the splintered doorway.
Wincing apologetically at the obvious damage, Iwaizumi pushes inside and attempts to close the door, before giving up and dragging the small table in the entry to keep it from swinging open again. Your scent is so much stronger inside, layered upon itself from months of domesticity. The alpha in him purrs when he finds that it's your scent alone in the space. The thick cloud of arousal and distress leads him straight to your bedroom like he’s hooked by an iron tether.
His plan on the way here was to help you, to comfort you and hold you, to give you what pleasure he could without actually fucking you—just to be what you needed until your heat was over. He wanted to keep the alpha in him under lock and key. He knows heats can make omegas forget the real world, how desperate a heat can make them. Even if he’s destined to be your mate, he wanted to be sure you didn’t feel forced, by him or nature. But the sight that awaits him causes his mind to go entirely blank.
“Please, nngh—Alpha, I—I need you. I can’t anymore, hurts so bad please.”
You’d tried to leave the bed when he called to be let in, tumbled to your bedroom floor tangled between blankets and soft-looking sweaters in what looks like an attempt at nesting. There’s a throw blanket curled around your waist, a comforter under your head, but your lower half is in plain view, braced on your knees and bared to him. His imagination on the way over couldn’t compare but you’re just as he imagined you, fingers thrusting frantically in your soaked cunt, whimpering into the blankets around you. As soon as he enters the room, your trembling intensifies as your tear-soaked gaze locks onto his hungry stare. A desperate keen bubbles in your throat as your thighs tense and shake, and in response his low growl rolls like gentle thunder throughout the room as he watches more slick gush down your thighs.
“Little omega,” he rumbles, striding deeper into the room and kneeling beside you. “Did you just cum for your alpha?” There’s no more hesitation. It’s as if the missing piece of his life has clicked into place. His mate is right in front of him, her body calling out to him for the relief and comfort that only he can give. And he is going to give it to you.
You nod up at him, relaxing immediately as his dominating scent covers you more effectively than any blanket. The cinnamon and fire scent breathes strength and reassurance, promising to take care of you. You purr thickly as his hands smooth over your thighs, thumbs pulling your sticky folds apart. His lips are soft as he places a kiss on your hip, his breath hot, the faintest graze of his canines against your skin drawing an almost violent shudder from your body in response. If you were desperate before, you’re not sure there is even a word for what you feel now.
An all-consuming fire blazes beneath your skin that cries for him to be burned away with you. You arch impossibly deeper, instincts demanding you present yourself to him. “All for you, alpha,” you moan. ‘’M all yours, please take me. Can’t wait anymore.”
Your squeal rings in his ears as he scoops you off the floor and bundles you back into the bed, muscles flexing as he settles between your thighs. One hand curls around your neck to pull you closer as he kisses you possessively. It’s all teeth and tongue, fire and passion, spelling out his wavering restraint and burning hunger for you. You can feel his cock against your folds already, his sweats pulled low around his hips in his haste, grinding against you. The heat and impressive weight of it draws a needy whimper from deep in your throat, legs closing tight around his muscular hips to get even closer.
He nips your lower lip sharply, immediately soothing it with his tongue. Iwaizumi is panting as heavily as you, a thin ring of olive green nearly swallowed by black as his eyes gleam down on you.
“Last chance,” he rasps, his fingers fisting the sheets next to your head as your slick heat against his aching length slices at the threads of his sanity. His jaw brushes against your cheek, unconsciously seeking comfort, and then his lips press to your throat just once, the ache in his canines spiking at the proximity to your mating gland. His voice breaks under the intensity of this feeling. “I won’t—be able to stop once I… So tell me now.” Even if he stops now, Iwaizumi knows he’ll never be the same man he was before. His world has narrowed down to this room, to the beautiful omega in his arms. His omega, his mate. He trembles, breathlessly waiting for your answer, your permission.
“Hajime,” you sigh against his lips, soft like a prayer, before tugging his lower lip between your teeth sharply. Iwaizumi groans at the feeling, rutting against you as he takes in the carnal desire and beatific acceptance glowing like embers in your eyes. You don’t speak again but Hajime understands. There aren’t enough words in the world to convey this desire.
His eyes darken and he lets go.
Your back arches wildly, nails tearing sharp lines down his back as he shifts his hips and sheathes himself in your cunt. If they weren’t awake before, your neighbors most surely are now, your pleasured howl echoing in the air of your bedroom as your plush walls part to welcome all of him.
He can’t think, fuck, he can’t think. It has never felt like this. You’re so hot, squeezing him so tightly, and for a barest of moments, despite your mewling, Iwaizumi fears you’re in pain. But then your hands tangle in his hair, dragging his face down to yours. Your omega body was meant for this, meant to take your alpha just as he is meant to please you.
One syllable splits your shared breath, caressing his lips, and he can’t hold on any longer.
“Move,” you beg breathlessly.
Iwaizumi groans and draws his hips back to snap them into you again, surging forward and capturing your lips into a blistering kiss. He swallows your every moan as one calloused hand slides down to grope at the thigh curled around his waist. His balls are heavy, slapping against your ass with every thrust, his pelvic bone grinding against your clit. You’re clenching and fluttering around him, forcing low growls from his chest at the feeling. Your body is begging for him just as loudly as you are.
“Hah, ah, ahn, alpha!” Your head tosses back as one of his thrusts has his cock pressing deep, nearly bottoming out inside you. “So full—Hajime—feels so good.” The last syllable breaks as you keen, lips falling open as your pussy clamps down hard.
“Fuck—” Iwaizumi hisses as he feels his knot beginning to swell, and he can tell you feel it as well, your nails digging into his back again. He barely feels the sting; if anything, it adds to the primal fire burning between you. “You going to cum for me, pretty omega? You want my knot? You want me to fill you up?”
“Yes! Want you, want you! Please!”
Iwaizumi doesn’t miss the way your glazed eyes hold his, how you intentionally bare your throat to him.
You’re asking him to… oh, fuck. He can’t. He can’t. But the thought of claiming you, digging his teeth into your mating gland and finalizing his claim has the animal within him howling to comply with your demand. The coil in his gut winds tight and his hips jerk out of rhythm as his orgasm looms.
Claim.
Iwaizumi whines as his orgasm sears through his body, his knot forcing past your entrance and swelling just a bit more, locking you together. His teeth bury down, and he can feel your walls constrict as he pumps you full of cum, hear you wail as your slick gushes around his length, following into carnal bliss.
He feels as if he’s floating, chest heaving as he blearily comes down from his orgasm. The scent of your distress jolts his senses, and he quickly removes his teeth from your pillow. He’d barely stopped himself.
“Alpha,” you sob, writhing beneath him. “Why?”
“Baby, baby girl,” Iwaizumi hushes softly, wincing as your movements tug down below. His knot hasn’t gone down enough to separate yet. Tears streak your face, and his heart almost snaps at the anguish dulling your eyes. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t want me.”
“Of course I do.” This is what he was afraid would happen when he refused to bite. Heats heavily fuck with hormones, with emotions. Pleasure made you ride high, only to come down feeling crushed and rejected by his refusal. His provisional instincts are lighting up, giving him much needed clarity as you continue to whimper and sniffle below him, no longer meeting his eyes.
“Am I not good enough?”
Damn it.
“Omega.”
You stiffen at the title, a fresh whimper catching in your throat at his sudden commanding aura. His pheromones wash over you, coaxing you to relax. More tears well in your eyes as he cradles your chin, turning your head so you look him in the eye. You try to blink them away.
“You are perfect, and I will never want another the way I want you,” Iwaizumi murmurs, voice still a little ragged. “But I don’t want to start this between us and have it turn out to be something you weren’t ready for. Heats heighten everything, ruts too. We can’t be sure this is what you want. Bite or no bite, I am your mate. I’m not going anywhere, and I won’t leave unless you ask me to. After we get to know each other, and we’re both sober—” This gets a watery giggle from you, and the sound melts Iwaizumi’s heart. He purrs gently, “and you want it, then I will make you mine.”
Your body sags beneath him, relaxing fully under his weight. A low moan spills from your lips, a deep grunt from his own as his knot softens, enough to allow him to pull his still hard cock from your dripping cunt. He grabs your hips and flips onto his back, settling you over him. Iwaizumi winces and hisses softly as the scratches on his back burn a little upon making contact with the sheets, but he ignores it in favor of meeting your eyes steadily. There are very few lucid moments in the middle of a heat, and he wants to enjoy them as much as possible.
“Did you really break down my door?” You ask curiously, tilting your head.
A startled huff of a laugh shakes Iwaizumi’s body, his cheeks burning in shame. “Sorry, heat of the moment. I’ll fix it as soon as I can.”
“It can wait,” you purr, shifting your hips over his erection.
Oh. His eyes darken, cock twitching at your sultry tone. Electricity sparks up his spine as Iwaizumi practically watches the lust drip back into your expression.
"Everything can wait."
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mariaace · 2 days
Text
100 followers event + collab with @transmascaraa
(cuddling headcanons-PM+Hunting Dogs)
A/n:sooo hello guys I've reached 100 followersss and my bf had reached 400, so we decided to make this collab as an event for them💜 Those are basically some cuddling headcanons. I am writing for the port mafia and the hunting dogs. Nyx is writing for ADA and DoA. You can find his work right here.
P.S. I am so thankful to all of you for 100 followers it really means a lot to me<33
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Port Mafia
Chuuya
Cuddles with this man are rather rare ngl. He's busy with his job and everything, buuuut he always makes up for it
He is so gentle with you and careful with how he touches you. This man is a gentleman, you can't expect anything else
He refuses to be the little spoon. Like no chance. He feels like he can protect you more that way even if it's just cuddles.
Most of time, when his head is in your lap, he would expect you to play with his hair. (Maybe would get offended when you don't 😅)
Hug his waist pleasee!! You can't cuddle with that man and don't wrap your hands around that waist. He will also love it<3
Akutagawa
Now with this you've really gotta work to get to cuddling lmao. This is the most unaffectionate person from bsd maybe.
Bue still when you do get to it he would be sooo akward for him at first, but he will get used to it..maybe...after a lot of time...
Still cuddles would be like, with him literally crushing you while just laying on top of you, but still he is underweight so you won't feel it a lot
Probably would feel asleep, but would not admit it after that
He always acts like he hates when you ask him for cuddles, but (very) deep down he actually loves it, because it calms him down and his thoughts.
Tachihara
This boy is soo underrated please
Anyways that wasn't the theme. Cuddling with Tachihara is an often thing
He loves to cuddle and be touchy with you. So almost every day after work, he'll just drop his body weight on top of you lmao
In this case tho, he would want to play with your hair. "It calms me down!!" He always says- and maybe it does, after a long day at work
Hand holding while cuddling is something soo important for him. Like he loves holding your hand and because he can't do it more often he insists on doing it while cuddling
Gin
Ohhhhh now this sweet.. powerful... gorgeous woman. I need a Gin in my life
Anyways cuddling with her would be you two facing eachother, laying in the bed, with your legs interlocked and her arm around you
She would like for you to tell her how your day has been while you play with her hair. She might fall asleep tho
After that she will tel you about her day and would be like turning around and gesturing with her hands while talking, so you get to pull her back to cuddling
Cuddles before going to bed are her favourite, because then you both fall asleep in each other's arms
The Hunting Dogs
Tecchou
Ehh >< sweet guy i i love him so much.
He is the big spoon. Always. Like most of them, he needs to have the assurance that he can protect you immediately if something happens.
Doesn't talk much while you cuddle. He would just close his eyes and burry his face in the crook of your neck
Would most likely to ask you to talk though, because he loves listening to your voice, so don't blame him if he falls asleep, but this doesn't happen very often
Also he doesn't move around when you two are laying down. Like he'll get in one position and not move until he actually has to get up to go to work
Jouno
Omg i have already talk about that before but anyway
So like I've said in my Jouno headcanons, i think he has sensory issues, because of the fact that he is blind and is very sensitive towards any kind of physical affection
So in that case cuddles wouldn't happen often, because he gets easily overwhelmed by them
However on days he is very tired or you had a bad day/are also tired, he would. You have to be careful with him though
He likes cuddling with you in general, just pls be careful with him
Teruko
She would pop onto you like a starfish
Would start ramble, ramble, ramble..until zhe actually falls asleep in your arms
Honestly in order for you to cuddle either one you is veeery tired or you were playfully fighting or tickling eachother, then it turned into cuddles
Her rambles are soo cute. Like she would tell you every single thing about her day, to the smallest detail
Like i said, she would probably fall asleep after that AND would expect you to hug her tight while she is sleeping
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© mariaace 2024 please do not copy, translate, steal or claim any of my works!
Reblogs are highly appreciated!
@dazailoveschuuya @transmascaraa
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thy-valhallen · 2 days
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Batfam by How Likely They Are to Break the No-Killing Rule
Jason Todd. obviously, this is his bit, the man is okay with murder so long as he perceives due cause, pew pew babygirl, rubber bullets still can kill you but now, Bruce can't yell at him if they die later
Barbara Gordon. you cannot tell me this woman isn't bloodthirsty. she follows the rules because she plays nice and respects the justice system (mostly), but i fully believe she can and will fly a drone with a mounted gun and snipe someone from six blocks away one day if the other Bats are busy, and she might not feel inclined to call an ambulance
Stephanie Brown. a Narrows girl, she knows how shit can happen, and if someone's after one of the Batfam, you better believe she's got a knife at the ready. Steph follows the rule well! for now. but look, if she's in mortal peril, she's not about to put her attacker's life above her own
Tim Drake. Tim is the true neutral here to me-- he follows the Code because of the effect it would have on Bruce and the rest of the family. he fully understands this and avoids it. ... there are no less than six different timelines in which he has pretty freely murdered people, and the jokes about him being the Most Likely to be a Supervillain jokes are based in something, guys. i feel like it would be more of a problem if he weren't so exhausted and busy 24/7-- so let's keep him very busy so he doesn't catch a charge
Damian al Ghul-Wayne. he's had a lot of growth from his days of being a child assassin and puts a lot of value on following their Code now-- but look me dead in the eyes and say he wouldn't kill for most of his family in a heartbeat. lie to me.
Dick Grayson. he and Damian are tied for me in how it's fairly situational and both would suffer tremendous emotional backlash for the action-- but Dick has a lot of rage and a lot of people who have hurt him and his loved ones. there's a tipping point, and he's reached it before. he blames himself for so much, if he ever got caught up in his own wrath and actually game-ended someone, I think the man would never wear a mask again
Duke Thomas. Duke may be under-credited for his absolutely feral behavior, but murder is definitively not on that list. he is so down to throw down, but Duke has never (to my knowledge) had a close call with murdering someone like many of the others in this family. putting this mostly on his powers giving him a leg-up there, but powers or not, no body count and never expect that to change for him
Bruce Wayne. the epitome of the No-Killing Code except for all those times he's nearly killed someone in intensely stressful situations. is strict about it because he knows how easy a line it is to cross and how it would devastate him emotionally and holds that standard. no killing is probably a kitschy poster in the Batcave at this point, Jason got it lovingly printed on a metal sign next to the Batcomputer
Cassandra Cain. has killed and will never kill again-- Bruce has close calls and has to be stopped, Cass has close calls and reins herself in. the blood on her hands is red enough without more-- she's an obsidian blade, sharp enough to cut molecules but so very fragile. one bad move would break her, and being the strongest in the family, it would be so very easy to make that move and it would be easy to live in fear of herself. but she doesn't-- there's shit to do and crime to be carefully nerve-pinched, after all
Bonus:
Alfred Pennyworth. i couldn't rank him with the others, do you know how this would look if I started the list with Alfred??? this is an ex-MI6 agent. this is a man who responds to home invasions of any threat level from "Burglar" to "Darkseid" with a sawed-off shotgun and fresh pair of gloves in his pocket for after he's disposed of the body. he's killed and will kill again, just step within range, kind sir, and you'll find out
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blessthegulag · 3 days
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I Hate You
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Pairing: Alejandro Vargas x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your car suffers an accident, and you end up with no signal in the Mexican wilderness.
Warnings: Reader speaks Spanish (but is not necessarily a native speaker), Alejandro and reader hate each other, spanglish, unprotected sex, p in v, car sex, hinting at possible feelings (blink and you miss it), Alejandro and reader are very mean to each other, reader is purposefully annoying, not proofread!!
Words: 3.0k
Notes: I’ve been feral lately, so here is an Alejandro fic (I need to be locked and muzzled up). Lots of Spanglish (because I’m a Spanish queen) and possible grammatical errors bc English is not my first language. Maybe I’ll do a part 2 down the line bc this can’t end like this?
Also, the fic is heavily influenced by @XCaliper’s c.ai Alejandro Vargas chat.
The humming of the car filled the silence between Alejandro and you. The road was empty, dark due to the moonless night. The gentle hum of the AC refreshed your beat up face after a long mission, one that was assigned to both Coronel Vargas and you.
As always, every dreaded time that you had to work with him, it ended bad for you two.  You didn’t understand each other, your ways differed to be considered healthy. 
Still, somehow, you complimented each other perfectly when it came to work. Amidst the clash of personalities, you two found that there was no better pairing, as much as you hated it.
Today was one of those days where, apart from a successful mission, you ended up yelling at each other. That moment of peace in the car was nothing but a truce until you two reached the base. 
A slight disturbance, and hell would set loose. 
And that’s what happened. 
A pronghorn came out of nowhere, jumping into the road. 
One second, and the car spun out of control. The tires screeched, Alejandro tried maneuvering, but to no avail. 
You hit some cactuses, impromptu halting in a ditch. 
You tried breathing in, but the airbag had punched you straight in your chest. You swallowed, confused, your ears ringing from the impact. Smoke was coming out of the hood, the engine hummed one last time before finally turning off, letting in the distant sounds of the Mexican countryside. 
You stepped out of the car, coughing. The gasses on the airbag were strong, and they had already attacked your lungs before you could realize. 
Alejandro appeared from the other side of the car, more composed than you. He still was shaken, confused, but in a better position than you. 
“Pinche venado cabrón,” he spat, the rage in his voice contained by the last thread on sanity in him. “Mira lo que le hizo al coche, pinche suerte de la verga!”
Stupid fucking pronghorn! Look at what it did to the car, damn luck we have!
You looked at him, your demeanor as calm as possible, so as to not anger him further. You took in some air, your hands on your waist, thinking of what the hell would you do now.
“I’m going to call base,” you said, taking out your phone, giving him your back.
“There’s no signal here,” he said in a scolding tone. “I already tried.”
You sighed in frustration. “I’ll try either way.”
Alejandro groaned behind you, his voice merely a frustrated whisper. “Nunca hace caso… pinche terca.”
She never listens… stubborn bitch.
You took your phone, trying to contact the base. Of course, just like Alejandro said, there was no signal. You sighed, tilting your head back. 
“Maybe we could try to get to the nearest town, try to contact the base that way. Not reaching out will alarm them, it's in our best interest to try and do something…”
“It’s not worth it,” he said. “There’s wild dogs, and with Las Almas out there…”
“It’s worth a try. How else are they going to find us?”
The muscles in his jaw tensed at the question, his body fixed in place
“They are waiting for us,” he replied calmly, his voice strained, like he was restraining himself from yelling at you. “In the morning they'll go looking for us.”
“I’m not comfortable accepting defeat like this,” you said, trying to make your tone as confident as possible. “Why don’t…”
“No puedes quedarte callada un segundo, eh?” he spat, his tone harsh, frustrated. “Todo el condenado día hablando…”
You can’t shut up for a second, can you? All the damned day talking…
“I’m just trying to help here, Alejandro,” you replied, already ignited. “Always acting like everything I say is stupid.”
He groaned at the mention of his name passing through your lips, placing his hands on his hips. “Because you are all talk, but you never fucking listen.”
The way he yelled at you almost made you retreat in defeat. He looked angry, annoyed at your every move. It made you boil in anger. 
“Que nunca escucho?” you said in Spanish, scoffing at him. “I do everything you say, Alejandro. Always. You act like you have more power over me than my own superiors. In here, you are nothing but my partner, okay?”
That I never listen?
“In here,” he said, getting close up to your face. “You do as I say, ¿me escuchas? This is Mexico, hermana. No estamos en Colorado, aquí un pie en el fango, and you’re dead.”
You do as I say, you hear me? This is Mexico, sister. We’re not in Colorado, here, you step foot in the mud, and you’re dead.
You pressed your jaw shut, holding eye contact with Alejandro. He looked as bothered as you, stopping the urge of punching you in the face full force. “Don’t act like I’m clueless, Alejandro. You take every chance you get to disrespect me, and I won’t accept any of that shit.”
He was silent for a second, eyes burning in anger and a surprised smirk in his face. “You think it’s bullshit that I’m on your ass about everything? Princesa, you don’t listen, everything is always a damn argument, and act like your fuck ups are everyone else’s fault. I’m not on your ass, I’m here to fix your stupid mistakes!”
You nodded at the floor, disregarding everything he said. Then, out of nowhere, you went up to the car, and took your assault rifle. You checked for bullets, made sure that the flashlight worked. 
When you were ready, you started walking away from the car. 
You felt Alejandro’s stare on you, the second it took for him to understand what was going on giving you more time to walk away. 
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He said, starting to follow you.
“Somewhere where you’re not getting on my nerves.”
His footsteps were heavy and loud, his anger seeping into the ground like poison. 
“You think it’s easy for me to put up with you?” He snapped in response, more in defeat than in anger. 
“You think it’s easy to put up with you, too?” you barked, too composed for what you were feeling at that moment. “Deja de mandarme por un rato, por Dios.”
Leave me alone for a second, for God’s sake.
Those words of yours came out like a whisper, like a rhetorical plea to yourself. It was nothing but a complaint, one that you felt deep in your bones. 
Alejandro brought out the worst from you, turned you into a monster. 
“Stop!” He shouted. “This is ridiculous. Get back in the car!”
You stopped dead in your tracks, almost clashing against Alejandro. “I’m not getting in the fucking car, not with you.”
He reached out and grabbed your arm, his face seeping annoyance through every pore. “Get in the car. Now.”
You shook his hand away, narrowing your eyes. “Don’t fucking grab me like that.”
He sighed in defeat, looking at you in disappointment. “Stop being so difficult.”
You swallowed thick, looking him in the eyes. "I'm not being difficult. You are."
He stepped closer, getting in your space. “You’re infuriating.”
“I hate you,” you spat, empathizing every word, your eyes focused on him. 
Alejandro pressed his jaw shut, his eyes scanning you whole. He had never been disrespected like that, much less by a teammate; by a subordinate. 
It left him speechless. 
There was a pause, where neither of you faltered. Gaze on each other, a showcase of pride. The air between you was heavy, asphyxiating. 
You could feel the frustration radiating off him, your anger trampled by the sour sensation of heat. Your chest heaved slightly, your breath on his. 
Then, his eyes flickered to your lips for a split second, then back to your eyes. 
Before you could react, his hand shot out, cupping the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips clashed on yours, demanding, dominant. His body pressed against yours, making a rush of heat curse through your insides. He was kissing you like you were the air he needed to breathe, grabbing you in a way that made you feel weak at the knees. 
You were animals, tasting each other's mouths in desperation, feeling the softness of each other, that same sensation fueling the need to get closer. A low groan escaped his throat, vibrating through your body. 
Alejandro's kiss was bruising, relentless, as if he was pouring all his frustration and desire into it. The tension that had been simmering between you for so long erupted in this kiss, and there was no holding back. You nipped at his lower lip, eliciting a growl from deep within his chest, and his grip on you tightened.
The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of anger and need that made your head spin. You felt his breath hitch as your hands went to rest on the sides of his neck, your thumbs reaching over to his jaw. 
For a moment, you felt as if you were caught in a storm. Alejandro’s kiss was raw, intense, full of hatred. 
It made you want to kiss him again. 
“Sube al coche,” he whispered against your lips. 
Step in the car.
You pulled back slightly, your eyes locked onto his. The command in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and despite the chaos of the moment, you couldn't help but feel a thrill at his dominance. You nodded, unable to form words, your mind still reeling from the kiss.
Alejandro's eyes bore into yours, the anger and desire still blazing. He let go of you just enough to allow you to move, and you stumbled slightly as you turned towards the car. Your heart was pounding, your lips still tingling from the intensity of his kiss.
The moment you were both inside the back of the car, he was on you again, his hands pulling you towards him. He pulled you on his lap, his hands starting to undo your tactical vest, leaving you only with your shirt. 
His mouth moved to your neck, giving soft, hot kisses that had you moaning his name, running your fingers through his hair. He smelled of cologne, his natural scent battling for dominance, sending your whole body into overload. It had you grinding on him, whimpering, desperate to have him in the most intimate way possible. 
The car soon heated up, the leather of the seats becoming a sticky trap. Gasping for air, you took Alejandro’s tactical vest off, your hands feeling up his torso, the nylon of his long sleeved jacket rough against your calloused hands, making you want to take it off of him then and there. 
Alejandro placed his hands on your waist, tugging on your shirt, dragging it up your torso. It felt like an eternity, giving you goosebumps all over your body. You breathed in, trying to find his gaze. Instead, he was looking at your semi-nude torso in awe, the muscles in his jaw tensing, hands caressing the sides of your body. His touch was like fire, leaving a trace of tingly skin there where he touched, leaving you begging for more. 
You placed your hands on his chest, grinding on him, practically riding him with clothes on. He moaned, guiding your hips through his lap, the friction maddening, sweet torture that was leaving you more frustrated than before. 
His eyes finally met yours, dark, intense. He looked hungry, lost in the moment. You leaned in, capturing his lips like a feral animal, the heat burning you from the inside. In the midst of it, you felt his hands on your back, trailing to your bra. Before you could even react, he already had it in his hand, throwing it somewhere in the car. 
With a growl, Alejandro broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin. Your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips as his mouth found one of your breasts. Feeling him like that made you melt, the car supporting your body the only thing keeping you from losing your mind. 
His tongue flicked over your nipple, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. He nipped at your skin, just enough to send shivers down your spine, the sensation maddening, a mix of pleasure and pain that left you craving for more. 
Then, in a swift motion, he moved you to the side, leaving you longing for his attention, mewling at the lack of contact. Alejandro found his way to your cargo pants, undoing the belt, ripping it from your body. You helped him get rid of your boots, and soon your pants flew to the front of the car. You took off his jacket, the bare skin of his torso illuminated by the little light that the stars managed to give.
Before he could get on top of you, you pressed a hand on his chest, hopping on top of him. There, you found his mouth desperately, hungry for more of him. You unzipped his pants, sliding one of your hands inside of them. Alejandro gasped, his lips on yours, giving small pecks as you explored, wrapping your hand around his cock.  
He groaned, the sound vibrating against your lips as you stroked him, your movements slow and deliberate. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension coiled tight within him. His hands gripped your hips, urging you to move closer, to give him more.
You obliged, positioning yourself over him. He grabbed your thong out of the way, letting you guide his cock to your entrance. You could see the desire in his eyes, the impatience. Slowly, you lowered yourself on him, getting filled inch by inch. You saw Alejandro moan, grab your hips, helping you into his cock. Once your soaking pussy had taken him whole, you looked at him, your mouth agape, lost, deaf, the pleasure overtaking your soul.  
His hands roamed over your body, squeezing your breasts, running down your back, gripping your ass as he thrusted into you. You trembled on top of him, his thickness making you feel whole, like your life’s purpose was to get fucked like that. 
You began to move, rocking your hips against him, finding a rhythm that had you both gasping for air. Alejandro’s eyes never left yours, in awe of your moves, of the indecent sounds of your body slapping against his. His skin burned, the windows were foggy, the air hot, smelling of raw, animalistic sex. 
Every movement sent waves of pleasure through you, amplified by the hand that had slipped down to your clit, pleasuring yourself with urgency. Your breaths came in short, sharp bursts, all landing on Alejandro’s ear. His hands tightened on your ass, guiding you into his cock, each time rougher, harder. The friction, the heat, the sensation of him deep inside you, tearing you apart in the most addicting way possible was overwhelming, maddening. 
"Más fuerte," he groaned, his voice rough, primal. "No pares."
Harder. Don’t stop.
You increased your pace, your hips moving in desperate urgency, looking to break him, to leave him begging for you. From below, he started thrusting into you, meeting your movements with his own. The car seemed to close around you, making you focus on each thrust, each moan, the way in which the car shaked. 
You rode him with abandon, your body moving instinctively, lost in the rhythm, the heat, the pleasure. Your fingers were working on your clit, sending shockwaves through your body, making you moan, begging him not to stop. 
He was filling you perfectly, using you like his own personal slut, thrusting in like an animal, your free hand the only thing keeping you where you were. 
Soon, Alejandro's moans became background noise, a distant reminder of what was happening. Your body reacted before you did, squeezing his cock, spiking your heart rate through the roof. You mewled his name, lost. His thrusts became softer, longer, making you cry out. You pressed your face on the crook of his neck, moaning desperately, riding out your orgasm as best as you could. 
The waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling uncontrollably. Alejandro's hands tightened on your hips, his own climax imminent. He groaned deeply, your pussy still milking him, driving him insane.
You became undone on top of him, your only purpose to pleasure him, to get used to the best of your abilities. 
Alejandro took it very seriously, his hands bruising your hips, thrusting into you relentlessly, whimpering as his orgasm approached. He found your gaze, grabbing the back of your neck, groaning, drilling into you like an animal. 
His moans came out sharp, irregular. His cock twitched inside of you, the heat of his orgasm making you grab onto him, focus on his eyes as he cummed deep inside you. 
Time stopped for a while. He was gasping for air, his eyes lost in yours, making out what had just happened. One of your hands found his chest, still beating hard, where you stabilized yourself, looking at him in the same way, clueless, in between surprised and ashamed. 
Alejandro pulled you closer, bringing  you back to reality, distracting you from your own thoughts. His hands rested on your waist, locking you in place. Your face pointed to the door, where you could almost make out the shape of what was behind the fog on the window. 
Sweat dripped from both of you, your bodies tangled, still connected. His body radiated heat off to you, his chest moving up and down against yours, his heart beating at a normal pace. 
You two were sticky, exhausted.
Silence filled the car, the cold of the night seeping in, sending shivers down your spine. 
Then, clarity set in. You realized what you had just done. 
With whom. 
It made you want to run away. But for the first time since you two met, he looked calm, non-threatening. A tamed beast. 
That, though, still didn’t take away from the disgust you felt for yourself. It didn’t excuse how much you had fucked up.
“This doesn’t change anything,” you whispered. 
He squeezed your hip, kissing your shoulder, knowing it was the last time you would accept that sort of affection from him. 
“Lo sé.”
I know.
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blueskrugs · 18 hours
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'tis the damn season | Matthew Tkachuk
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today's the unofficial official start to summer, so here's a 4th of July Matty fic I couldn't bear to hold on to for another month. once upon a time, kim @troubatrain wrote another matthew fic by the same title, but i'm fairly confident this is entirely different. as usual, @wyattjohnston was my enabler in writing this.
length: 3.0k words
It’s late when you finally peel yourself off the Adirondack chair you claimed hours ago next to the bonfire, empty seltzer can dangling from your fingertips. The bonfire has died off, barely more than some embers and the occasional spark. Even the fireworks that have been echoing around the lake for days have petered out. It’s just you, Matthew and Taryn left outside, all your other friends having wandered off to find somewhere to sleep—except you think Taryn might have also fallen asleep, wrapped up in one of Matthew’s old Calgary sweatshirts and a beach towel. 
Matthew watches you with heavy eyes, watches as you stretch sleepily and the big T-shirt you’d thrown on over your swimsuit rides up over your hips. 
“Don’t drive home,” Matthew says, so low you barely hear him. 
“What?” you ask. You’re not heading back to the city until after the long weekend is over, and your parents’ lake house is just a couple of miles away. 
“Don’t leave, there’s a lot of drunk idiots out still,” he says again, standing too. You and your friends were some of those drunk idiots earlier in the day, but you don’t point that out. 
“Dude, I’m fine,” you tell Matthew. You turn to look for your flip-flops. “It’s not far, and I stopped drinking a while ago.”
Matthew grabs you by the hip. The night has cooled off, but Matthew’s hand feels hot on your skin. “I’m not worried about you being stupid, I’m worried about something happening to you,” Matthew says. “Don’t go.”
You didn’t pack enough clothes to spend the night—you’d always been planning on heading back to your parents’ at the end of the night. The house was crowded with friends of Matthew and Taryn. 
“There’s nowhere left for me to sleep,” is what you end up saying.
Matthew tightens his grip. You step closer. “Sleep in my bed.”
You’d done it before, but not since before Matthew had moved to Michigan to play for the USNTDP. Not since before your crush on Matthew had shifted from something childish to something more like pining. You stare up at him, his blue eyes serious, clear even in the moonlight. 
One of the logs on the dying bonfire pops and shifts, sending out a spray of sparks. You both startle, moment broken. Matthew takes a half-step back from you. You hadn’t realized how far you’d both leaned in. Taryn stirs somewhere behind you.
“Fine,” you say quietly. “I’ll stay.” 
Matthew grins at you. You shake your head at him as you finally turn to walk inside.
You think you hear Taryn murmur, “Get a room,” as you pass her. 
The lake house is a mess. You survey it with dismay for a moment: there’s people passed out on several different couches, empty cans and bottles scattered across most surfaces, and remnants of dinner still sitting out in the kitchen. You drop your own empty can into the recycling near the door and wander quietly through the first floor, picking up what you can. You haven’t been at it very long when Matthew steps inside as well, gently shutting the door behind him. He clicks his tongue at you when he spots you in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.
“I thought you were going to bed,” he whispers.
“I got distracted,” you whisper back. 
Matthew trails his fingertips across your side as he steps past you to open the fridge. You shiver, and not because the AC is turned down low. Matthew pulls two bottles of Gatorade out, offers one to you. 
You take it, suddenly surprised at how thirsty you are. 
Matthew watches in amusement for a moment as you chug a third of the bottle, before he says, “C’mon, it’s past your bedtime.”
“It’s not that late—” you try to protest, before you catch a glimpse of the time on the microwave clock. Almost 2 AM. “Oops,” you say instead. 
Matthew flicks off the kitchen light and heads upstairs.
You make a pit stop in Taryn’s room on your way down the hall to Matthew’s room. The door creaks as you open it, and you wince, squinting at the bed, where three of Taryn’s field hockey teammates are sleeping. No one moves. You steal a pair of shorts to sleep in and sneak back out. 
Matthew is waiting for you, again, perched on the edge of his bed. The shower in his ensuite is running, steam filtering through the ajar door. “Shower’s ready for you, if you want,” he says.
There’s a bottle of your face wash and a toothbrush with your initials Sharpied onto the handle underneath his sink, the same way they have been since you were 14. You take a fast shower and try not to think too much about it. 
You run into Matthew when you walk out of the bathroom. Literally. You're bumped backwards, into the doorjamb. Matthew doesn’t step away. You’re still wearing one of his T-shirts. 
“I was just—I need—” Matthew stutters. 
“Matty—” you breathe, before Matthew’s lips crash into yours. He tastes like beer and sunscreen, and you wrap your hands around the back of his neck so you can pull him closer. 
Matthew breaks the kiss first, but he doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead to yours. It could have been seconds, or it could have been hours. 
“I was just going to brush my teeth,” Matthew whispers. 
You make a face instead of kissing Matthew again. His face is still so close to yours. 
“Good, you need it,” you whisper back. Matthew rolls his eyes at you, presses a kiss to your forehead before ducking into the bathroom. 
You’re sprawled out in the center of Matthew’s bed when he re-emerges, watching the ceiling fan turn lazily above you. You feel drunk, like the room’s spinning, too, but you think that might just be proximity to Matthew. You should have just found a couch or a corner of floor to sleep on. 
“No way,” Matthew says, standing at the foot of the bed. “Scoot over.” 
You think about pushing it, just to see if Matthew would push back, but you scoot over. Matthew flops onto the bed next to you in the space you just left, then rolls on top of you, anyway, braced with his hands next to your head. 
You take a second to just look at him. You’ve been sneaking glances all day, over the rim of a seltzer can, from underneath your sunglasses, across the boat. It had felt illicit then, but now Matthew is right in front of you, blue eyes meeting yours. His curls are getting long, messy from being in and out of the lake water all day. He’s always tan now—living in Florida all winter does that—but he’s sunburned across his nose and across the tops of shoulders. You lift one hand and skim a finger down his nose, across his jaw.
“I miss you,” you blurt. It’s not what you had meant to say, but now that you’ve said it, you’re not sure what else there is to say.
Matthew laughs softly. “I’m right here, babe,” he says.
He’s here now, but it won’t be long until summer’s over, and he’ll be gone again. Back to the real world. You don’t know the last time you and Matthew were able to spend time together like this, don’t know if you’ll ever get this time again. It’s always been one thing after another—injuries, or vacations, or work. You don't talk the way you used to, either. Matthew's schedule clashes with yours so often that neither of you have time for hours-long phone calls anymore.
Matthew drops to an elbow and brushes your hair out of your face. You try not to sigh. His hand is on your knee next, by his ribs with your feet flat on the bed. You don’t stop him as his hand starts to slide up your thigh, closer to the hem of his T-shirt, riding up your hips again. 
Matthew drags a line of kisses down your neck. You can’t stop your sigh this time. Matthew comes up for air, tucks another strand of hair behind your ear. It’s humid outside and in Matthew’s bed; you can’t breathe, gasp for air. His hand is back on your hip, burning hot on your skin. 
He asks, “Yeah?” 
You can feel his breath on your cheek. He’s panting, too, and it’s nice to know that he’s as wrapped up in this as you are, at least for this moment. That he might want you almost as bad as you want him. That he’s wanted you as long as you’ve wanted him.  
You don’t trust yourself to get any words out, just nod. 
“Think you can stay quiet?” Matthew says, before sealing his lips on yours again. 
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You wake up late the next morning, the ghost of Matthew’s fingers still on your skin. He’s in bed, too, tangled in the sheets, head turned away from you. Distantly, you hear the sounds of the rest of the house stirring, your friends laughing, coffee brewing. You don’t make any move to get up.
You’re still laying there later—15 minutes, 30 minutes, you’re not sure—when Matthew starts to stir. He rolls over quickly, almost panicked, but he relaxes and smiles when he sees you still lying next to him. 
“Hi,” he says dumbly. He fumbles for his phone, but it’s not beside him. “What time is it?” His words and eyes are still heavy with sleep.
You don't know either; you must have left your phone downstairs last night;. You shrug and stretch. Matthew watches you closely, the way your body moves beneath the sheets. You feel your cheeks flush. 
“Dunno,” you say. Closer to noon than early morning, if you had to guess by the way the light is slanting through the partially closed blinds. “Late,” you add. 
Matthew grins at you and props himself up on one elbow. You have to resist the urge to reach up and tug on his curls, even messier now from your hands and sleep. 
“Then I don’t think anyone will miss us if we stay in bed a little longer,” he says, leaning over to kiss you.
You indulge him and his morning breath for a few moments. Wrapped up in your own little bubble, twisted together in Matthew’s sheets, you can pretend just a little longer—that this is real, that it won’t disappear the second you step through that doorway and back into a world where other people and other obligations exist. But then your stomach rumbles and shatters your illusion.
You push Matthew away by the shoulders—gently, though part of you wants to be harsh with him, hurt him the way you know he’s going to break your heart. Matthew goes easily, but you see the flash of furrowed brow before he smooths his expression back into something easygoing. 
“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” you say, “but I need something to eat.” 
Matthew raises his eyebrows at you. “I’ve got an idea of what I want to eat,” he leers. 
You knee him in the chest in retaliation.
“Oof,” Matthew complains, but he’s laughing. 
He rolls off of you, rubbing his chest and pouting at you. You just roll your eyes and slide out of bed. You hunt the floor for the shorts you’d been wearing when you went to bed, trying to ignore the way you can feel Matthew staring at your ass. Your shorts ended up across the room, by the bathroom door. When you turn around again, Matthew is pulling on a shirt. There’s a hickey on his collarbone that you hazily remember leaving there. He sees you looking as his bare skin disappears and smirks at you before throwing another clean shirt of his at your face. 
You grab the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, but say, “Turn around.”
Matthew gapes at you. “It’s nothing I didn’t see last night,” he tells you. 
It feels different in the daylight, though. You stare Matthew down until he heaves a sigh and turns his back. 
You poke Matthew in the ribs when you’ve finished changing. It didn’t go unnoticed by you that Matthew gave you a shirt with his number stamped on the left shoulder to wear. Matthew reaches to take your hand as you start down the stairs, but you pull away and run ahead of him.
This isn’t like that. 
“Oh, you’re both alive,” Taryn calls when she sees you. “We were thinking about sending someone up to check on you.” 
You and Matthew exchange a look. You don’t miss Taryn smirking from her spot on the couch. 
“Where is everybody?” Matthew says, instead of saying anything to give Taryn any more ammunition. The house has quieted down. There’s still a few of Taryn’s teammates lounging around, but it looks like more of Matthew’s friends have cleared out.
“Weather’s shitty, people started leaving after breakfast,” she says. 
Outside the windows that overlook the lake, there’s fog clinging to the water. It looks chilly out, and you shiver. You tell yourself it’s because of the cold, and not because Matthew is standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat. He nudges your elbow, and he’s holding a cup of coffee out to you, already the perfect color for you to drink it. You shoot him a grateful smile as you take it; your fingers brush, and you try not to jerk your hand away. 
“Nobody even said good-bye,” Matthew gripes.
You laugh, but it’s Taryn who says: “Maybe because you’re a shit host.”
Matthew gasps in outrage and throws a discarded can koozie at her. It falls weakly to the floor halfway to the couch, and all of you burst out laughing. You and Matthew move easily around each other in the kitchen, piecing together leftovers and assembling your breakfasts. It sends a pang through your chest, the familiarity of it, even as the years and distance build a canyon between your relationship. You don’t know when Matthew went from being your best friend, to the boy you dreamed of marrying one day, to the guy you knew so well yet barely knew at all. 
You feel like you can’t breathe.
“That’s disgusting,” you say, watching Matthew take a bite out of a cold bratwurst straight from the fridge.
Matthew shrugs. “What?” he says with his mouth full. “It’s a sausage, people eat sausage for breakfast all the time!” 
“But not—oh, fuck you, never mind,” you say. 
You escape the kitchen, slipping through the back door to the porch. The bonfire from last night has long since burned out entirely, but you drop into one of the chairs beside it anyway, where you eat your breakfast undisturbed. When your plate is cleared, you wander down to the dock.
The late morning sun has finally started to burn away the fog, but the air is still cool. You sit down on the edge of the dock and let your feet dangle in the water. It’s quiet, especially for the day after the holiday; the weather has scared people indoors. You shiver again. You only have a few minutes of peace before you hear footsteps behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know that they belong to Matthew.
He drops down onto the dock behind you, drapes his legs off the edge on either side of yours. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you let yourself lean back into his chest. Neither of you speak.
You’d been here once before, sitting on this dock with Matthew. You were younger then. Matthew had just been drafted, and you were heading off to college. You’d both been on the verge of something big, and you thought maybe it had been your chance to do big things, together. You wonder if Matthew is thinking of that night, too, of the silence in the darkness of midnight, when you’d both slipped away.
Matthew presses his lips to your shoulder, where the collar of your shirt—his shirt—has slid down and exposes your bare skin. 
“Would you wait for me?” you asked, 18 years old and so, so scared of losing everything you had ever known. Desperately trying to hold onto Matthew.
“Would you?” he asked back. “Would you still be ready for me in another few years?” You both knew you couldn’t even imagine following Matthew to Calgary until you had graduated, unwilling to sacrifice your own future for a possible one with Matthew.
You had waited. You had been waiting for Matthew for even longer than you were willing to admit. Even when you were in other relationships, you felt like you were just waiting for something else. For someone else. You wondered now what your life would look like if you had said yes to Matthew on the dark dock all those summers ago, if you’d waited for each other. You couldn’t wait any longer. 
“You could stay for a few more days,” Matthew says. 
“You know I can’t,” you say. You reach back so you can run your hand through his hair. One last time. “Think we could do this again sometime?” Matthew asks. “You know we can’t,” you say. Matthew sighs. You can feel the tension in his body. He’s ready for a fight, but you don’t know if you have the energy for it. You lean more of your weight against him, and he holds you up, strong and steady.
Matthew takes a moment before he responds. “We could,” he argues. “We could do this forever.” Your heart hurts. You know he doesn't mean it.
“Matthew,” you say, quietly. “Matthew, please.” “Why not?” he asks. “We’re good together, aren’t we?”
You are, and you wish you didn’t know just how good it could be between you. In your head, you see all the things you could have, all the things you should have done. It’s so, so tempting. 
“I think we both know why we didn’t try ‘us’ when we were 18, Matty,” you tell him. The petty arguments, the way you were both so stubborn that hanging out ended in slamming doors just as often as it didn't. You always came back, but you don't know if you can do it much longer.
You move to leave, and Matthew slides back to allow it. You let him offer you a hand as you stand up. Matthew squeezes your hand once, quickly, just before you let go. You leave him sitting on the dock. You don’t look back as you make your way back up to the house. 
Some things are best left in the past.
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thewertsearch · 4 hours
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@manorinthewoods asked: Vriska and Eridan have now killed one person each. Tavros and Feferi's respective moons have been destroyed; as such, they cannot be revived via dream selves or the moon-crypt slabs. What do you think will happen now? ~LOSS (18/5/24) @manorinthewoods asked: Welcome to Murderstuck, aka Homestuck's version of Canaan House. Who do you think's going to survive this? ~LOSS (22/5/24) Anonymous asked: tavros and feferi are D----EAD! do you think they'll stay dead? you've already stated your opinion that there are death flags like crazy all over vriska, so do you think anyone else will die? if so, who? Anonymous asked: Now that the bodies have started to hit the floor, what's your prediction for who's gonna survive to meet the humans?
I'm actually doing to do something a little different this time, and analyze the situation primarily from an author's perspective, rather than an in-universe one. I had a lot of fun doing that with yesterday's Kanaya post, so I want to try it again.
Let's enumerate the remaining trolls, in ascending order of how likely I think they are to kick the bucket (😳) during Murderstuck.
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There's no chance whatsoever that Sollux will die. His Doom prophecy is fulfilled, and if he were to die a third time, it would break his long-established duality theme. Plus, he'd have predicted it, and would have been complaining about it since Hivebent. He's fine.
Death flag score: 0/10.
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We just got Aradia back. She's not even involved in Murderstuck, seemingly travelling to the Furthest Ring after being resurrected, so none of the murderers can touch her anyway.
Aradia is a powerful time manipulator who can freeze even the most dangerous enemies. It would take a lot more than Eridan and Gamzee to defeat someone who can stalemate Perfect Jack, and I predict that she'll survive the rest of the Act with ease.
Plus, killing her again so soon would feel really cheap. Been there, done that.
Death flag score = 0.5/10
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Karkat and Terezi are too important to die.
This doesn't always guarantee a character's survival - A Song of Ice and Fire comes to mind - but ASOIAF kind of proves my point, doesn't it? Martin can throw all the Red Weddings he likes at us, but everyone still kind of knows that the really important characters aren't going to die until their arcs are complete. If A Dream of Spring ever actually comes out, Daenerys will still be around, and you can take that to the bank.
So no, I don't think Karkat and Terezi will be going anywhere. Now that Kanaya appears to be dead, they're undeniably the most important trolls remaining, alongside Vriska. And we'll get to Vriska.
Death flag score: 1/10.
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I know it's weird to predict that an already deceased character won't die, but I wrote an entire post last night about why I believe this to be the case.
tl;dr: it doesn't make narrative sense for Kanaya to stay dead.
Death flag score: 2/10.
Now, we're onto the characters who I think might actually die.
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Gamzee's still alive at the end of the countdown, so he'll at least survive the next couple of hours.
Certainly, his position seems rather precarious. His stated intent to wipe out the entire Veil will make him a lot of enemies very quickly - and based on the image above, he clearly gets into some sort of trouble. That scratch almost looks like it could be the work of Jack's sword.
However, I have a hard time believing the Most Important Character In Homestuck is going to die less than halfway through Homestuck. He's been saying all sorts of cryptic nonsense lately, and he strikes me as someone whose role in the story will expand even more than it already has. Gamzee is the one character on this list we know will stay relevant for the entire comic.
I don't think he's going to achieve his murder mission, of course. I think he'll probably be 'defeated' somehow, and expelled from the Veil by the surviving trolls, only to pop up again sometime later. There's still a chance that he'll be killed - but if he is, I'm 100% sure that he'll return in some form. Gamzeesprite would be even worse than Calsprite, in my opinion.
Death flag score: 3/10.
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Yes, I still believe Vriska will die - but I don't know if she'll die in Murderstuck.
Scratch positioned her as someone who will perpetuate a monumental, large-scale mistake, and I don't think there's anything she could do on the Veil that fits the bill.
However, Vriska is more imaginative than I am. She could easily pull a trick out from up her sleeve that I didn't see coming - some terrible, horrible idea that earns all of Scratch's foreshadowing in one fell swoop. Vriska is known for her Incidents, and you never know when the next one is on the horizon.
Death flag score: 4/10.
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There's not a lot tying Equius and Nepeta to the Veil, is there?
They don't have strong relationships any of the remaining trolls, and even among the B-team, they've barely had any prominence since we've left Alternia. Killing one or both of them would up the stakes of Murderstuck without introducing the narrative issues that, say, a dead Karkat would cause.
Plus, if one of them dies, then the other would immediately gain an incredibly strong motivation, and become a more prominent character overnight. I already like Nepeta - but a heartbroken, vengeful Nepeta hunting Eridan down across time and space? That's a fucking arc.
They could also both die, and return to the story from another direction. It hasn't escaped my notice that almost all the 'important' trolls are Prospit Dreamers, and the two Furthest Ring explorers are Derse girls. I've been wondering for a while now if the solution to the Veil's bloated cast is to split the trolls back into the Red and Blue Teams, with the Red Team joining the kids outside the session, and the Blue Team joining Aradia in the Ring for some secondary mission. I guess that implies Tavros will be resurrected, but there do seem to be hints that that might happen.
I don't want either of these two to die, but... well, killing them would raise a lot of interesting possibilities.
Death flag score (both of them together): 6/10
Death flag score (one of them) : 7.5/10.
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Eridan is screwed.
Neither the story nor the trolls can allow him to ally with Jack and lead him to the Veil, and they'll do anything they can to stop him. I don't think anyone's inclined to show him mercy, either - Kanaya and Feferi were very popular.
I don't really see any way out for him. He has no allies, he can't Hopesplode everyone at once, and he's never shown himself to be particularly resourceful. I think if there's one troll practically guaranteed to be Murderstucked, it's him.
Death flag score: 9/10.
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