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#X Male Reader
2kiran · 3 days
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BOYYYYY THE MILKMAN SMUT WAS SO GOOD. care for another one? i NEED to fuck the real francis mosses now…i’m imagining the doppelgänger being jealous asf of him too ouuujhhhh
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FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕nonconsensual voyeurism. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis is watching, real one doesn’t know it. dry humping. clothed sex. different timeline from prev fic. ✶ IN WHICH francis wants to be more than just a neighbor.
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for who to blame, you don’t permit yourself to think. francis, the lovely neighbor, is propped on your lap. poor man was flustered, sweat gathering on his skin like a coat. gullible; and so unaware. entirely dumb of the fact that his doppelgänger was gazing upon the scene through the crack of your bedroom door. you could almost imagine the creature’s expression, twisted in envy.
your palms cupping his hips, which are erratically pressing themselves against you. chasing after the friction he craved during the in-between’s of his working hours, pent up frustrations translating into insatiable sexual desire.
“gosh, ‘m sorry... hnngh, needed to feel you against me.” his teeth grit with a whine, tucking his head to your shoulder. effectively obscuring his ever burning pit of shame which laid heavily in his gut.
supposedly, you were to help him of deliveries as a noble—not only a doorman but as well a—citizen. however, you were not put in a situation to complain whilst he clutched onto you as he switched to tantalizing grinds. “couldn’t wait anymore, hm?”
words a tease, he could feel himself losing track of the rhythm. sloppy and unexperienced; though not enough to be labeled as someone so pure from filth. “please,” the doppelgänger’s eyebrows wrinkled with disgust at the actual francis’ plea.
“please, i, mm,” and the milkman is at a loss for words.
the creature, despite his apparent hatred, palmed his cock within the confines of his pants. fuck, his tip was leaking with pre-cum that without a doubt painted his length in a creamy tone.
he was ablaze with jealousy while you got your dick wet with the one whose identity he attempted to steal. “say it.” the commanding quality of your voice left no room for objections that even he felt the obligation to speak his thoughts.
“can- can i take off your pants? i want you inside me..” what a darling francis mosses was.
a humming released from your sealed lips; he waits. “not completely,” he’s confused until you pull the zipper, freeing your cock from the side and his shyness returns. “better?”
francis nods, cheeks warmed at the scenery. the doppelgänger despised that. “i’m ready, did it myself this morning.” he sheepishly mumbles, releasing himself of his lower garments. “did you plan this?”
it’s taken as an accusation. “no!” could’ve been an exclaim if he wasn’t so breathless in effort of aligning his hole to your tip, “but i’ve... imagined it, you know. keep myself awake to— oh fuck.”
an inch, then a second, and now you’re void of a clue. rewarding yourself with the relief of triumph of the theory that he would feel a lot better than the copy; he is.
if you were to say that aloud, you’re sure the targeted one would be angry enough to keep you from finding your release.
francis’ thighs lay atop of yours, warming your cock with his sensitive walls. he tries to lift himself up, only to realize he was incapable. energy spent due to the earlier attempts. you are met with a whimper, a look in his eye, and the trembling of his lips.
the other tenants are certain to file a complaint.
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masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx
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miguel-owhora · 1 day
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thinking about retired!price, so insatiable with nothing to do, fingering his cunt and grinding against pillows with your musk thick shirt pressed up against his nose. his body becomes softer with nothing to do, love handles forming and a bigger belly growing, with thighs soft and jiggly, and an ass so pretty and plush like a sweet, juicy peach.
you're still away on deployment, a couple years younger than price and still in your prime. you can't wait for the day where you finally retire, where you can spend the rest of your days with your husband.
but price can't wait—he's paranoid that someone else will get your attention and steal you away from him. someone younger, more attractive, and despite your reassurance that such thing won't happen, it eats away at him. so he does the only logical thing he can come up with.
when you come back on break, you have a hard time getting john off you. he's insatiable, his fingers running all over your body, more than happy to pull down your pants and lavish your cock in affection. he'll throw you onto bed, remind you why exactly he was captain, and milk you for all you're worth. he'll run you dry and keep on going, as if he was young again. and sure, his legs burn, exhaustion nips at him, but fuck, he'll keep on making you cum inside his pussy if it means he'll have your kids.
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nouearth · 3 days
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let me in.
peter parker x male reader.
summary: peter struggles to balance between life and work, and it's ruining his relationship with you.
wc: 6.6k. genre: smut. warnings: andrew!peter, college au, established relationship, brief fighting, brief injury and blood mention (nosebleed), misunderstandings, peter reveals his identity, dry-humping, over the pants (or suit) handjob, body worshipping, lots of sweat, fingering, frotting, riding, spandex fetish, reader has a thing for peter in his spider-man suit!
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You were starting to feel antsy. You could feel it—the nerves kicking in again. Anticipation—a suspension of doubt—made your hands clammy at first, but it was the time that made your hands clutch nothing but air. You rubbed the sweat off your hands onto your pants, your knees not so comforting with their pointedness.
Acceptance—when it was evident that Peter was late, again.
Birthdays have never been a big deal in your family. Sure, it was great that you had the privilege to live another year. To witness yourself grow older, to stand a few inches taller, to live a little more knowledgeable than yesterday. But growing up with parents who had to constantly work, well-late into the depths of night, it had never been more than a birthday wish that had greeted you in the mornings, and bid you slumber in the evenings. Since then, you knew not to expect anything.
If only Peter hadn’t made such a big deal out of it this year.
“Excuse me?” The familiar timbre of a voice speared your thoughts; deep and tunneling as you were transfixed on the glasses of water before you. Yours had been refilled, though a little sparse compared to Peter’s full cup.
Your eyes widened with feigned curiosity, a small smile plastered alongside to hopefully negate any annoyance from the waiter—because you expected what he was about to follow up with.
“Hey… uh,” he shifted on his feet awkwardly, eye bags weighing heavier than the last time he had checked up on you. You looked around, surprised by the amount of patrons who had filled the space around you while you were daydreaming. Laughter and smiles completely lit up the room. The dim lights were practically stationed in the restaurant for decoration, and seemingly to spotlight your ‘dinner for one’ status. “I’m sorry, but… we have no more tables to fill, and if you aren’t ordering soon, then we’ll have to give your table up for the next party...”
It was obvious that you weren’t, you hadn’t even torn into the buttery bread rolls that were piping hot forty-five minutes ago. Now, the fat had solidified into spotty, yellow clumps, though you doubt that would’ve been enough to detract from the quality of the rolls.
“Oh, I—“ You pulled out your phone to check your messages again. Nothing. Swiped down to refresh your conversation with Peter. The loading icon felt like it took forever, you half-expected that your phone was updating the thread with Peter’s messages that somehow got lost in the void of the restaurant’s spotty signal. 
And nothing.
“I—yeah… uh. I-I’ll head out.” It was embarrassing. Even if the waiter had given you a sympathetic smile, you hated knowing that you wasted his time. You hated that you selfishly occupied a seat when someone else would’ve been done with dinner by the time you exited. 
“Thanks—” 
You hated that you had your hopes up for things to be different.
Again.
The night was dreary. Not even the wind had greeted you like the others when you stepped out. Soft and fluttering against your skin, but scolding enough to make you put your coat back on. Luckily, your apartment wasn’t too far from the restaurant, a fifteen minute walk at most if you speed-walked. Shoving your hands in your coat pockets, you then ambled along the sidewalks, wallowing in your feelings with a playlist that belted in your ears once you plugged your earbuds in. 
You didn’t have the energy left to hurry home.
Once you crossed the last intersection, you felt a little bit more at ease. Seeing the familiar apartment complex at the end of the block picked your pace up a step more. You paused your music once you neared the entrance, just a turn away before you could finally bury yourself in your bed. 
You reached into your pocket to grab your wallet. The weight in your palms instantly reminding you to deposit the cash tips sometime soon before the stretch of the leather had become unbearable to fit in your pocket. 
Your walk slowed as your attention was fixated on your wallet, fumbling it open clumsily to retrieve your keycard. In midst, you caught a glimpse of a photo print of you and Peter, standing shoulder to shoulder with the biggest grins as Peter had a peace sign above your head, doubling as bunny ears. Honeymoon phase, they’d call it. Where you were beginning to discover more about Peter, and Peter was beginning to discover more about you. Likes. Dislikes. Hobbies. Memories. It felt like yesterday when you two were spending every second of your day with each other. 
Now, it would be a miracle if Peter returned a call.
With the keycard in your hand, you turned the corner, and towards the entrance, the smiles from the photo print reflecting onto yours as you could vividly hear Peter’s pleas to retake them again. The flash of the cameras always made him blink.
If only you had been focusing on where you were going instead of the still image of the first memory between you and Peter, maybe you could have avoided the collision altogether when you approached the door. You suddenly found yourself on your back, facing the night sky as clusters of stars twinkled in laughter. There was a slight throbbing to your forehead, a mark you’d reckon would appear as purple within the next 12 hours despite the painless… pain.
“Oh god— I’m so, so, so, sorry! Let me—“ If the beating your face took to the door hadn’t snapped you back to reality already, the familiar face before you certainly pulled you out of your thoughts like whiplash once he helped you back onto your feet. Your vision instantly cleared of haze, as if his simple presence was your remedy.
“(M/N)?” Peter interrupted himself, his eyes widening. You could see the wheels turning in his head when the dim light spotlighted your features: eyes, nose, lips; flesh and bone that he was well-acquainted with.
“Peter—“ You took a moment to scan him. It was like all the other times he had been late. His fringe; stuck to his forehead with a mixture of sweat and water, the latter being a last resort to clean himself up. His knuckles; bruised and torn with minuscule cuts barely able to conceal the truth behind his scars. His necktie; clumsily done with the knots coming loose. Though, whether the silk unfurled by Peter’s own sloppiness, or by the increasing frailty of his fingers that had become susceptible by even the most delicate material of neckties; it was futile to mention it to him. You knew he’d shut you down with another excuse.
“W-what are you doing here? Are you okay? I-I’m so sorry—I was on my way to you and—Oh god, you’re bleeding!“ Breathless, panting, not only because he was panicking from running late. 
But because of adrenaline. You could see it in his eyes. The alertness. The high.
“What—“ You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, only to see a smear of blood blotted across your skin. “Shit.” 
Another thick drop splattered in greeting.
“Peter, it’s a nosebleed. You’re acting like I had my arm chopped off or something.” You’ve been applying pressure to your nasal bridge, pinching it tightly to barricade the stream of blood. All while you had your head tilted over Peter’s sink, in case of the blood leaking past your hold. “And how long does it take to find a cotton ball?”
“I’m trying—“ His one-sided game of hide and seek with the bag of cotton balls was leaning in favor of the latter. Medicine cabinet: empty. Bedside drawer: foreign coins and bills. You were watching him from the corner of your eye, a small limp to his step when the lightbulb seemingly lit up overhead and had him dashing towards the kitchen. 
“Found it!”
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Peter’s touch was delicate. Tender, like the forming bruise on your forehead. He was adamant on taking care of you, even if frankly—you would’ve done it much faster had it been a solo endeavor. Cotton balls were plugged up into your nose, and a warm face towel was laid across your forehead. If an intruder had the audacity to rob Peter’s apartment, you’d imagine you would find yourself lucking out. Peter joked that you looked like patient zero.
“All done. See? Nothing to cry about.” He was joking again, the smug smile across his face a clear indication of it—and the laugh that he couldn’t help but contain.
“Ha. Ha. Thanks, Dr. Parker. Now, how much do I owe you? I’m paying outta pocket.” For a brief moment, you forgot that you were upset earlier. All because of how nice it was to actually see him again. He pressed a kiss to your lips, a comforting gesture if his constant apologies weren’t enough. Stay focus. 
“So, about dinner…”
“Oh,” Disappointment softened Peter’s smile. You could see it tightening, even as he was organizing his room. Though, it was really a matter of tossing his clothes on the floor back into the laundry basket. “Listen, my… bike got stolen and—“
“Peter…” You sighed, pinching your nose bridge because you feared another avalanche of a nosebleed incoming. That, and because it helped you maintained your composure. “You said that the last time. Three times, actually.”
“Third time’s… the charm?” He was joking. Again. But even he wasn’t laughing at it because he’d been cornered. Called out. Embarrassed that he thought that would even work on you. Embarrassed that he thought he could get away with it. 
Again.
“Peter.” You called out, straightening your posture against the headboard of the bed when he sat at the end of the mattress. Shit, it’s happening.
“I… I don’t know how to…” The veins in his hands, they lined perfectly to the cuts, scrapes, and bruises on his knuckles. Clear as day now that he wasn’t hidden under a dim light. “I just…”
He had his hands around his face, rubbing his temples, his cheeks, his nose, anything that could alleviate the accelerating drill of his heartbeat. 
You were hopeful to get an answer out of him. A proper explanation. But it pained you, knowing that in a few seconds—what he would tell you would only confirm your yearning suspicions of his strange behavior.
He doesn’t love you anymore. He’s cheating. You’ve become a nuisance, an absolute bore in his life. Actually, you’re a bad influence on him. You’re holding him back. He needs to let go of you to accomplish better things. He never loved you.
It’s happening. It’s fucking happening. All he has to do is say those words. The dreaded five words you’ve heard once from him in a nightmare.
I want to break up.
“If you want to break up, just say it.” 
It sounded softer in your head, but the tears that had welled in your eyes finally bursted into droplets. They ran down your cheeks, and your voice broke during its pursuit. 
Something commanded you to let those words slip out. 
Maybe it was the ghost that you and him had been theorizing about since the night you’ve helped him move into the apartment floor above you. Carrie; you nicknamed her, and Peter would scold you for doing so because he had the suspicions that giving her a backstory would ultimately reassess his home as a possessing ground. To this day, he swore he saw a shadow looming in the corner of his room on a perfectly stormy night.
Or maybe it was the months of frustration that you had accumulated, snowballed because of your own selfish reasons to continue being with Peter for as long as you could, even if you saw the signs, because you couldn’t bear to see yourself without him. Live, when you two had promised so many futures together.
“What? No, (M/N), that’s not—“ He jolted up at the mere mention of separating from you. There was a chill. The room suddenly felt colder, and then warmer—scorching hot, when the glossiness of your gaze reflected into his. He began joining you by your side. “Hey, hey, I would never—“
He broke into a cold sweat. He’d never seen you like this. And to think that he was the root of this—of your pain—it was all overwhelming.
“Peter, there’s always something going on with you. Y-you don’t text me for days. You ignore my calls. You disappear without telling me. You’re always late. And… you’re always hurt? And you think that I’m dumb enough to not notice that you aren’t? How you’re limping? How you’re always bruised and—For god’s sake, Peter, I’m just as smart as you, we have the same GPA and—“ You took a breather, a gulp because you were rambling now. Your cheeks felt hot, from your sudden outburst and from embarrassment, because the latter half of your rant immediately negated the idea of some kind of affair.
“Okay, maybe you aren’t cheating, but—“ You felt him tug you into his arms, but you wouldn’t budge. Instead, you pushed away, edging to the other side of the bed to face him.
“I would never.” He sighed, his arms dropping as soon as you removed yourself from his embrace. 
“Then what is it? You’re leaving me in the dark here. I barely see you anymore, you know that?”
“I know.” He was biting his lips. Chewing, as if he was internally debating something. A decision that could either ruin you, ruin him, or both.
“Then?”
You waited. Watched his fingers fiddle with one another as he continued turning the screws in his head. Your heart would jump whenever he would open his mouth, anticipating whatever had caused so much turmoil in his life, but there was a last minute decision that kept him silent.
Crickets.
Nothing.
“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re doing. But you’re getting hurt and I’m just… worried.” Your gaze dropped to his hands again. Pale, veiny, and full of life yet they’ve looked like they’ve been worn out. Torn. “At least tell me it’s not gambling.”
“Well—in a way with my life, it kind of is like gambling—“ He thinly smiled, hoping it would at least make you crack a smile.
“Peter!” You scoffed, nudged his side with your elbow out of frustration, then surrendered when you brought your knees up to your chest, and buried your head in between your knees. “Not funny.”
“Okay, okay, just… you can’t tell anyone.” His voice softened.
“We all know that between you and I, you’re the one with the running mouth.” Your voice muffled in the space between your legs, hands tucked around your nape.
“I’m serious, (M/N)” Pleading now, he held your hand in hopes to get ahold of your attention again, squeezing so you’d look at him. You do.
“I won’t tell.” It was a promise. Peter didn’t need you to clarify because he could see it in your eyes, honest and sincere. Determined, as if you were willing to protect him.
“Okay… and also, don’t… freak out.” Peter was off the bed now, wandering in the middle of his room as he rolled his shoulders back, relaxing the muscles in his back like a wrestler preparing for his next fight. He gestured for you to follow him out to the stairway, out into the cold. 
“Why would I freak—“ There was something around his wrist. No, wrists. You thought they were watches, but there were two devices around him. They were strapped with a similar black leather to your wallet, to Peter’s, and a red button protruded in the middle of it. “Peter, what are you—“
You stopped a few feet before Peter, watching him closely, yet afar. Afraid, yet intrigued. Concerned, because he was on the ledge of the staircase now, perched like an animal. Yet there was a grin on his face. Not crazed like a madman considering he was acting like one, but foolish. Goofy, giddy like the times he’d hide stuff from you, and wait until you’d notice it was gone.
“Like I said, don’t freak out.” 
“Peter, what are you even—“
With that, he opened his arms like wings that spanned across his back and flipped into the air as if the wind would carry him across city to city. As if he was recruited as a sponsor to the heavenly gods with the incredible height he’d taken off in, pursuing the clouds, the wind, the stars, and the night simultaneously all in multiple slings.
Into. The. Air.
Into the fucking air.
You raced forward with a yelp, as if you would’ve made it in time to catch him. To catch his hand before he fell. To hold him one last time before he’d land on the ground and shatter every bone in his body.
If he had landed. 
No, you blinked once—twice—no, at least in the double digits because this was all a dream. It was all a dream, right? That you caught a glimpse of Peter somehow slingshotting himself from window to window, from rooftop to satellite, like it was a mundane day job one had to endure to put food on the table, to pay the bills.
Right?
You paced around the stairs, raced towards one floor to another, bending over the railings because—Peter disappeared. He was gone. If he had smashed into something, you would’ve heard him. You would’ve heard him in yelp in pain. You would’ve heard the metal railings shake. You would’ve heard him cry for help. 
Instead, you heard the sound of wind. Whistling as it sailed leaves to the west of you. 
As if it carried a hint along the way.
“Peter?! Peter—Fuck, fuck!” You followed the sound of the whistle. The source of the pitchy sound. Fluttering when your head spun closer to the note, wavering when you were getting colder, then peaking when your gaze lifted, higher, and higher, until it landed on him.
Peter.
Peter, perched over the rooftop of the apartment complex like a bug. The moonlight framed his silhouette, emphasized the texture of his suit; protruding grids that encased him like a nest; and you’ve never been more intimidated. 
Red and blue spandex tightly-fitted over the muscles and body of the man you have been more than well-acquainted with. You’ve seen it before. It was familiar. On the news, on the papers, on the internet.
“You’re freaking out!” He yelled out, clearly amused in your frozen state of shock.
He peered over at you with a smug grin, aimed directly at your bafflement before pulling a mask over his head. It was the icing on top in rendering you utterly incapable of stringing up any words. The lens of his mask reflected off of you, mirrored your astonishment in clear display, and you sensed that would be a memory Peter would be carrying to his death bed.
“What. The. Fuck.”
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“Okay, so, just to clarify,” You were winded, still recovering from the heart attack Peter had nearly given you after he took you on for a stroll in the night. Into the sky.
Luckily his bed was right beside you. As soon as your legs gave out, you fell back into his mattress, and stared into the ceiling, speechless. Peter joined you after, bringing you into his arms. He’d always been aware that touching you in any way or form brought you back to reality. “You are… not a cosplayer?”
“Honestly? That would make me way more money than what I’m making right now.” You couldn’t keep your hands or eyes off of him. Peter was still in his suit, and that gave you the perfect opportunity to run your hands over the webbed texture of the spandex.
“Just a few more months until my lease is up. I can move in, and that’ll help with the rent. For both of us.” It felt like silicone, or rubber. Whatever it was, it was durable considering how thin it felt in your fingers when you rubbed it in between them.
“Just like that? You’re not mad?” Your hands came to a halt when Peter suddenly took them, and rested your palm on his cheek, coincidentally on the cut that you’ve never noticed. 
“Why would I be mad?” Quieter. Your voice mellowed into a whisper as you catalogued the amount of beatings his skin had taken. Caressed the marks you were too selfish to notice. Exhaustion wore on his face, and yet he never looked so peaceful as he gazed into your eyes. 
Pretty eyes, Peter thought. Ones that could motivate him to get back up after falling. That feels nice, when you pressed a kiss to his damaged skin. A touch that made him believe there was a reason to suffer, to be great, to be all of this.
“Well, for starters, it’s your birthday and… I completely blew it.” Peter closed his eyes when you began brushing his hair back, knotted in cold sweats, but you fanned your fingers out to undo them until they felt somewhat tidy in your strokes. Smooth and soft. He sighed, “Again.”
“Can’t entirely blame you. How would I look if I were to complain about missing you, when you’re out there risking your life for everyone?” It wasn’t a question, but you wanted him to look at you. To respond. And he does, when you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he returned it with a silken one, a following grin. “All I wish for was that you told me sooner, I guess.”
“Yeah,” He figured he’d save the details of the ‘friends’ he had made along the way some other time. For now, it was all about you. “Wow, you’re not even going to wish for me to be safe?”
“Hey, you know what I mean! That’s a given.” You rubbed at his chest, finding yourself quickly accustomed to the scales of his costume. The red was striking against your palms, comforting almost. 
“Still. I want to hear you say it.” Peter rolled onto his side and slipped an arm under your back, scooting closer to you. His signature goofy grin never failed to knock a similar one out of you. And unwillingly drawn out, when he began pinching at your sides in quick snips.
“Stop—“ You laughed, your hands occupying themselves to defend your body from his quick attacks. But Peter was fast, avoiding your arms and hands to find another opening that you’d abandon. “Stop, stop! Stay safe! Happy?!”
Closer and closer, you found yourself beneath him, framed by his body as he took your arms above your head and pinned them secured with his tight grasps.“Incredibly.”
Your legs spread open to make room for his body, only for Peter to wrap them around his waist, to press his body into you, kissing you like he was driven to steal your breath.
“This your way of making it up to me?” You broke apart from the kiss, only briefly, before the taste of Peter, the softness of his lips reeled you back in for another kiss. Languidly paced until one’s accelerating lust for one another had taken ahold of the wheel and shifted gears, into a weightiness that kept your mouth parted open while Peter’s impulse to explore you had become evidently clear.
“Problem with that?” He’d been driving his hips into you, grinding his front with your own. Both clothed, infuriatingly covered, but the pressure in between your bulge and Peter’s was too pleasing to ignore. Too satisfying to make him stop. “I should take this off—“
“No, wait—“ You grabbed his forearm when he reached back to unzip his suit. To be honest, you never thought about how he even got in or out of the suit in the first place, but that was beside the point. Something about this suit, this costume, whatever you wanted to call it; it was a turn-on. 
The way it fit snug against Peter’s body; how every fiber of muscle was stretching the material to its limit. Maybe you were just turned on because you associated it with him being a hero. For god’s sake, that was as much of an aphrodisiac one could be if you happened to be saved from a falling tower. 
Or maybe, it was simply how Peter looked in it. Unabashedly handsome, yet himself, seemingly courting you further into his webs, as if he hadn’t already from day one.
“Keep it on. I like it.” You muttered, fiddling with the collar of his suit. It was snapped on tight, but you managed to slip a finger or two past, to pull at it with a stretch.
“Then how are we going to…” He abandoned the few inches he had unzipped, providing a small relief to the squeeze around his body while his broad back was bare and tense towards the ceiling. 
“Then, you’ll take it off. But for now, I just want to…” One hand was on his nape, pulling him down for another heated kiss, while the other traveled south between your body and his. Further, lower, until you cupped him at his crotch. Rubbing, squeezing, and palming at the thick, growing center. “Want to try something…”
You could feel him smiling, a crooked one flattened against your own grin when he whispered, “I should’ve told you sooner, shouldn’t I.”
“You think?”
You were getting harder, your pants beginning to tighten around the center as you palmed him. It was a heavy handful in the beginning, but Peter’s bulge began to unfurl. It didn’t take long, didn’t take much of a stroke for him to unravel from his tuck and thicken into a full-blown erection towards the left side of his thigh. It pointed downwards, the plump head evident through his suit, and you were beginning to drool in Peter’s mouth at the haziest image of it.
“Come on, I need to get out of this… It’s killing me.” It wasn’t like Peter to beg. It was charming, cute, sexy, all the synonyms that could describe how you felt all day and every day about him, and you squeezed, because he wasn’t being patient with you.
“Birthday boy gets what he wants, don’t you think?” He winched into your mouth, and you swallowed him. Swallowed every ounce of breath, and breathed it back out with a kiss. Sloppy, heavy, your tongue weighing on his because you wanted to keep his lips apart, mouth open to hear his moans.
Peter grunted again once you began stroking his cock, touching him like it was a delicate plate of chin. Fingertips only, dusting him off with little pressure so he wouldn’t shatter.
“What are you going to do about it, hm?” You continued your short, limp strokes. “Just going to take it? Hm?” Your wrist was weak, lazy as it became limp to tease him even more. Peter sucked in a breath, doing his best to maintain his composure, but it was all futile, all those attempts of sucking in his lip to chew, to hold back his moans, because you’d slap his clothed cock, grasp it tight in your hand, and massage as much as you could gather.
“Fuck, baby—“ You had him under your control. Even if his hands were free, you knew he wouldn’t lay a finger on you. He knew that if he did, you’d stop touching him, stop stimulating the blood running down every vein of his cock, fueling his erection. His desires. 
He couldn’t let that happen. Not after the day, the week, the months that he’d been having. 
You and Peter eventually switched places: Peter resting on his back while you sat in between his legs, marveling at the stretch of his suit. Somehow, his cock looked bigger than you’d remember. Squished and pressed flush against his thigh like this. The suit was like a magnet, inviting your hand back to his cock and refusing to let you go.
“Just relax.” You commanded him. He was watching you slouched up against the headboard, gravity weighing his eyelids lower. With his legs spread apart, he provided you excess space as you began massaging his right thigh with your free hand. “Is this okay?”
“Mm-hm...” He knew you were talking about the pressure on his thigh, but the strokes over his cock remained supreme in his mind. Championed through as you pressed harder into the shaft, massaging tenderly from vein to vein. The protruding webbed texture of his suit pressed into him, rolled against cock like the inside of a fleshlight, ultimately adding onto the already gratifying pleasure. 
It was glorious.
“More…” Peter gritted through his teeth, a selfish need for more escaping from his lips in huffs. Grunts, when you’d fulfill his wish with two hands now, kneading his cock like dough. 
Thick, stiff, throbbing dough.
Before the complaints could come pouring in, you shimmied your pants off in a hurry, tossing it in the corner before greedily climbing onto Peter’s lap. It was like he read your mind, perhaps another secret that he’d been hiding, because he immediately took you into his arms. An embrace, a tight one that grounded you against his bulge, pressing your body weight until it restricted the blood flowing into his erection, as well as preventing an escape.
“You’re so hard…” You marveled at how rigid he’d gotten under you, grinding your ass against the large mass, beating and throbbing with every rut.
“I’m so hard.” He confirmed, complained, and bragged all in one smile. He then took you by the nape to kiss you again. Hard on the mouth, slow with his tongue to taste you and your desires, his desires. His other hand rested on the small of your back, guiding your grinds at first before his fingers looped into your waistband, tugging once before stuffing the strap under your ass cheeks. Your hard-on was the only thing keeping the cotton material from slipping off while you continued grating your hips. “Just like that…”
To make it easier for you, Peter repositioned his erection so it was facing north, towards his navel, in its sublime mass. Your briefs had been tossed to the side now, completely bare bottomed against him while you mounted over him, and rode in needy strides. It was a sight to behold, something that Peter reckoned he should savor. He folded his arms behind his head, providing a self-made cushion for the weight of it, and watched you. It was entrancing, like a dance. You swiveled your hips to a ghosting rhythm, one that could only be heard between two hearts, two parties, between the two of you, man to man.
“Like this…?” Breathless, you unbuttoned your shirt open, but left it present on your body. Sweat formed over your neck, dribbled down to your bare and exposed chest;  it was practically an open-invitation for Peter to ravish you. And so he did, with a haunting groan as he held you, contained you in the warmth of his arms as he simultaneously pulled you forward, and pushed himself off the headboard to meet you in the middle.
He kissed you on the neck, achingly hard when he sucked, and then enthralling, sweat-inducing when he bit into your skin. He couldn’t contain himself. You tasted too good, and it’d been too long since he had you just like this. “Just like that. Your cock against my cock, fuck. I love it so fucking much.” He muttered hot against your neck, panting because he was sweating too. The spandex felt tighter on his skin, constricting against him with every drop of sweat.
“Oh, fuck…” His lips had latched onto your nipples now. Peter’s tongue worked magic on your two nubs, flicking and swirling over their perkiness until you felt swollen. Raw, when he bit, pulled, bit, and bit again. You buried your face into his hair, rocking yourself back and forth with your arms holding him close to your chest, gliding your cock against his print as if a gun was pointed to your head, like your life depended on making Peter come.
You were delirious, humping Peter without a single thought other than to get him off, and you’d reckon that was the goal lingering in Peter’s head as he began rocking back into you. It took a while for him to find your rhythm, chasing after it in slower, sluggish beats, but eventually he caught up to you, snapping his hips against your own, grinding his cock against yours like two crescent moons caressing the other’s curvature.
“Close…” He muttered into your shoulder. Your shirt was hanging off, exposing more of your skin, but Peter made sure you didn’t feel a single chill with the marks he had followed up with soon after. It was like he had done it on purpose. Made you feel safe in his arms, comfortable in the warmth of his body, worshiped with the amount of care he had given your body. Frozen, when you felt something prod at your pucker. Then enraptured, when Peter pushed a wet finger inside of you. 
Tremors, chilling tremors ran down your spine as you took the single digit Inside of you with one determined push. “Fuck—“ Your back arched, chest pushed forward towards him, and your hips jolted forward in one strong, and delicious swipe against Peter’s cock. “Peter…”
It was a mouthwatering display of food before him. The perky nubs on your chest, the veins in your neck, the mole on your body, the strain of your thighs on overdrive, the swollen head of your cock; Peter didn’t know what to lay his finger on first, what to mouth on, what to kiss, and suck, and latch onto until you’d scream. Whichever it was, he knew you were desperate for him. Begging, sweating, whimpering, for Peter to lay a finger on you. Another finger inside of you now, and you rolled your eyes at the stretch he was providing you with, a fulfilling wish that startled your hips once more.
“You’re so good, so good for me…” Peter was staring up at you, marveling at the layer of sweat on your body. It glistened with every movement, dripped heavily with every thrust of Peter’s fingers, and tasted just like how he remembered. Salty when he licked up your neck, up your chest, against your nipples, and repeated. Your body was his, and Peter was determined to let the world know. Determined to remind you in case that you’d forgotten.
Your hands were wandering. Grabbing and touching at anything and everything that could linger in between your fingers. Peter’s hair, his head, shoulders, chest, your cock and his, his back. Everything. You couldn’t keep your hands off of him. Even if he was covered from head to toe, you were touching him. Because he was yours.
“Gonna come—“ You cupped Peter’s jaw to straighten his posture, to kiss him sloppily on the mouth, and he pulled his fingers out of you, resting them on either side of your hips as he joined you once again in grinding hips. The pleasure was overbearing, drilling into each individual brain until the smallest movement would render you both speechless. Panting in slurred moans of each other’s names, of profanities that you two had rarely used in your lifetime on earth.
“Me too…” Peter pushed himself on top of you now. Your arms were tied around his neck, tighter than the necktie he had on prior, and your legs; they wrapped around his waist equally secured, if not even tighter, as he thrusted against you. 
You were too distracted, unable to respond to Peter’s constant licks in your mouth. He was desperate for you, suckling on your tongue and chasing after it once it slipped out because of your moans. They were rattling, each breath immediately vaulted in the back of Peter’s throat because he couldn’t part from you. Couldn’t imagine a life where he would. And if he had to, at least he’d have a part of you inside of him. Even if it was a whisper. 
He thrusted harder, panting into your mouth, his nose practically smushed flat against yours. He wondered if you could imagine that life, a life without him.
“P-Pete—Shit, I’m—“ Your fingers dug into his nape, grounding him impossibly closer to you when that feeling had suddenly come to stun you in place. 
It simmered hard in your stomach, then to a rolling boil as it traveled lower to your pelvis. You squeezed your stomach, clenched your toes, and your eyes widened when Peter’s hips showed no signs of faltering. Your cock swelled and your balls jolted, tightened, until you finally saw stars bursting into flames and let gravity have it come crashing down on you. Shivers had you enclose your arms around Peter, holding onto him tight as you felt yourself crumble and spill all over your chest and his suit. You came with a gritted grunt of his name, sinking your nails into his nape because you had nowhere else to channel your spasms as Peter kept rocking against you, drunkenly astonished by how you came for him. By how much you needed him.
It didn’t take long before Peter came right after. He buried his head into your neck, stifling moans into the heat of your neck, clammy with sweat, yet comforting as he filled the inside of his suit with thick, large loads. You felt his cock throb against you when you reached down to help, to ride out his orgasm to the fullest. His cock pulsed as you’d imagine several thick pumps of his load would gush out and uncomfortably layer his navel. If only his suit hadn’t been waterproof, because there was no doubt that he would’ve been leaking out of it by now.
You’ve never been so jealous of spandex.
He was hot in your ear, panting, breathing you in, then breathing you out as you slowed the strokes on his softening cock. Then a sudden inhale, a jolt of his body, when you squeezed hard, to seal the deal in covering the entirety of his cock in his own cum. It was filthy. It was shameless. It was Peter.
“Driving me crazy here…” Peter sluggishly lifted himself off of you to face you, a sleepy smile plastered across his face as you kept kneading at his cock, increasingly sensitive with every second.
“Not enough to drive you away, right?” You smiled, drowsy yourself as you quickly found your high coming to a crash. Though, you mustered enough strength to hold Peter’s cheek in your palm, tenderly caressing, to which he immediately kissed as soon as it reintroduced itself. 
Peter sighed, holding your gaze for what felt like minutes, and yet you wished it could be for longer. 
It was different this time, the way he looked at you. The same amount of love and warmth, yes. But they no longer wavered, no longer tried to find something else to look at in case you were prying about. 
“Never.” 
Instead, they stilled, relaxed the longer you stared into him, into those brown eyes of his, because you were in now. 
You were finally in his life.
How much you needed him?  His question had been answered.
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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knightonio · 3 days
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it has been months and your gunplay knifeplay posts has been on my mind and making me hard everyday sir SPARE ME I'LL DIE IF YOU WRITE SOMETHING KINKIER THAN THAT or don't teehee
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warnings. sparring. dom male reader. cock crushing/stepping. slight dubcon. pain + humiliation/degradation kink. blowjob thru clothes. dirty talk. hinted older reader. improper s&m. public sex.
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it’s an average session on the wet soil of the forest, a duel between teammates that has a negative history with each other. victory isn’t far off from your hands, successfully landing a few harsh blows on your opponent. grunts built on frustrations meeting every strike.
“gfgh—shit!” he chokes on a curse as his feet backtrack him to a tree due to an unexpected kick. your glove-hidden hand wrap around his neck, patting him down in a mock inspection to ensure there weren’t any knives ready to plunge into you.
a half-groan is elicited as your finger bumps his thigh. oh, not quite; it was his groin. “don’t...” surprise doesn’t even wash over you at him being turned on. better yet, your knee forcefully collides with his clothed dick and he nearly doubles over.
damn, this was definitely unlocking something you weren’t aware of. his hands curled around the rough sensation of the tree behind him, prickling his uniformed skin. “what the fuck’s wrong with—ughm!” your thigh hits his groin, each contact sending imaginary stars to circle his head.
you shove him to his knees, causing him to grab you in quick reaction. “what’s wrong with me? look at yourself,” fingers closing around the top of his helmet to tilt his head up to you, the outsole of your boot stepping on his poor dick, “fucking pathetic.”
the soil is wet, and it forms a disgusting patch over the crotch of his pants of grime and rain. “shut it.” it would’ve been intimidating if it weren’t for the way he leaned forward, mouthing at your cock.
“oh, yeah? if you go ‘round still actin’ like a bitch even if i got you humping me, might ‘swell take a photo of you.” he groans at that, and you press more of your weight onto his bulge. boot twisting and thrusting ever so slightly, unsuspecting of how well he withstands the pain.
his thighs quiver, moaning into you whilst his tongue swipes over your hidden tip. he’s creating such a mess, over you and himself. “shit, baby, what a fuckin’ sight.” a high-pitched whimper escapes him when you slam the outsole on his dick. “nngh—so you are useful.” his demeanor is arrogant compared to his current compromising state.
“to what, your masochistic tendencies?” you scoff, certain that you were on the brink of crushing it. he shows no sign of confirmation to your thoughts, instead enthusiasm. “maybe... you’re feeding into that pretty well,” he grunts, chasing after your dirtied shoe that threatens to leave him. “too well, actually, enough to make me want to ride you ‘til i can’t take it anymore.”
you almost offer him a laugh but one suck of his cuts your voice off into a quiet moan. “didn’t take you for a bottom bitch. not even for a shameless one.” he begins to hump your shoe, actions desperate as he flicks his tongue over and over that you wished you were in a more private area. “could never imagine that you’d be a pervert, getting turned on from something as violent as that—”
finding where his shaft should be, you kick a few times against it. “—in a place like this. anyone can walk here and see you, watch you as you cum on me like a cheap-faced whore.”
he whines into your tip, material thinning because of the amount of saliva trailing from his mouth. “you like it.” it’s a statement that isn’t quite distant from the truth. he fell into an act, learnt doe eyes staring up at you feigning such innocence you want to corrupt.
“thought you were mature ‘nough not to indulge in a pretty thing like me,” you know there’s a playful smirk on his lips, idiotic words easy to him. you kick apart his legs wider before returning your boot back on his cock, “don’t blame me now, sweetheart.”
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sweethearts. keegan russ. fushiguro toji. spider-man noir.
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masterlist
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beautifulsenpai · 3 days
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imagining an au where the bakusquad turned to villains, captured their classmate after he became a hero and now keeps him as a pet in their lair. the amount of times they watch each other play with you..
tw/cw. messed up shit, stomach bulge, double penetration (sorry if this isn’t the stuff you normally thought of)
i believe they would create their villain organization when they got older, and their first order of business would capture their beloved hero that they were deeply in love with in their school years, and now it’s their time to make you theirs once and for all! after capturing you, you bet they would put a fucking collar around your neck like a dog.
how sick, they consider you as their pathetic pet. the days spent with them would be hell. they would play with you, and it’s not like what you think. each of them would take turns fucking you while they watch, or two dicks would be inside of you, creating a bulge while one of their cocks would be inside of your mouth.
they would ignore your screams, and cries of protest while they fill you up with their cum. you never thought that your used-to-be friends could be so horrible. after they had their time with you, they would leave you as a mess. they would later on clean you up but what was the use if they would ruin you the next day..
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i might write this though, this is such a creative idea
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shnarky-blogs · 3 days
Text
𝙿𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝-
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ᵗᵒᵗˢᵘᵐᵒᵗᵒ ʸᵘᵘˢʰⁱ ˣ (ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ)ᶠᵗᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈𝚞𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 (𝚢𝚘𝚞) 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎.
ᵃˡᵗᵉʳⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵘⁿⁱᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ ˡᵃᵈʸ ᵏ.
(based on the story but in my own twist)
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"Hey there cutie"
Yuushi spoke out cupping your cold face to pull you into a kiss, his boldness shocked you yes, but does he even fear you?..
He pulled back smirking to himself, blush was clearly visible on your face despite it being covered by your messy tangled hair.
Suddenly you bit him on the face having you time to go back in the darkness to once where you came, this saddens him alot- though he should've just think of a plan before pouncing on you like that, he thinks he made you made.
Sighing to himself, Yuushi got back to the spot on the ground and sat down to smoke.
"I shouldve made a plan.. damn me"
Now he's stuck with a raging boner in his pants, he couldn't help but groan in annoyance.
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Yuushi decided to sleep in the closet in hopes of you appearing again before him, so he pretended to sleep in.
Later around 12, you peeked out from hiding to in hopes of scaring him again so he could finally leave you alone, you crawled towards him then hands gripped you waist tightly, the warm skin touching yours made you jump in surprise.
"Gotcha.."
Yuushi whispered to you against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
"You don't talk much huh?"
He spoke to himself.
You jumped on him trying to bite his face again to escape but this time he was ready and jerk back quickly before you could even hurt him.
He gave you a smug grin as if to mock you.
"You love biting, don't you?.."
Then his lips crash against yours, kissing you deeply, his fingers gripping on your hair so you wouldn't get away, he got excited from just kissing you again,, his boner already bulging through his pants as his tongue explored your mouth.
Then pulled back noticing how needy you just got from that french kiss, tears already swell up in your eyes as you looked up at him with embarrassment.
"You look so cute~"
He smirked playfully, cupping your face as his thumb caressed you puffy cheeks.
Later on,, he has you down beneath him on his futon- his fingers already playing with your soaked pussy.
"Atta boy, be good to me alright?"
He praised as he pleasures you, your thighs already trembling as his fingers played with your clitoris.
He then pulled his cock out then slide it between your folds to lube it up with your own slick.
"So wet for me pretty boy~"
Smiling lovingly at your form, despite his perverted thoughts towards the man he had legs soread out for him, he actually also wanted to.. take care of him..
He was just so cute, Yuushi thought while pressing his cock against your boy pussy, slick already made his cock glisten.
He was so ready on taking the boy.
Then, his tip slowly drove into your oddly warm depths.. he felt you tighten up around his cock as he slid in.
While going in, his thumb presses against the little nub on your pussy causing you to whimper.
"Ahh.. my little boy seems sensitive when i touch him there."
He smiled at the boy, under him.
He made sure that your legs doesn't close up so he could delve in better.
Once his whole length is inside he was awfully amaze at how great you felt, your boy pussy feels like a virgins and he thought he would just cum immediately after just being inside.
He made you get used to his size first before thrusting slowly.
"Do you feel me?.. do you feel my tip kissing your cervix, pretty boy?"
He grin softly as his pace began to pick up, his hands grope your waist so he could make sure that he isn't just dreaming about this.
Your little whines only fueled his lust even more, his face nuzzled deep into your neck, nibbling unto your skin as he clearly marked you as his.
"That's it my sweet boy.. moan for me.. make your lovely noises louder"
He grunted out as he thrust into you faster, his tip hitting those blinding spots causing your vision to blur out slightly.
He was sweating heavily untop of you, He was so glad to have you in his arms.
All he could think about is the boy's pussy just clenching down on his cock, he just wanna breed you full of his kids! (Only if thats possible).
He wants to fill you up so badly that your leaking with his seed, his thrust became sloppy and hips twitching foreward.
"Im gonna cum.. C-can i cum inside of you? I wanna cum inside you please pretty boy.. F-fuck.. i.. i wanna impregnate you!"
He grunted out before cumming into your boy pussy, his tip kissing your cervix deeply.
Both your fluids mixing as he pumped you full of his warm seed.
Tears leaked down your eyes as you stared up to him through you messy bangs.
Yuushi stood still, trying to take some breath before holding you close with his cock plugged up inside you making sure no cum goes to waste.
"Fuck.. you were such a good boy for me"
He panted out before kissing you deeply full of affection and love, this made your heart swell up with love for him.
So for now on you gladly let him stay so he could fuck your boy pussy whenever he likes♡
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reallyromealone · 2 days
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Hi I want to request reader (male) is so sweet and innocent that everyone is like how did you end up in hell and then reader goes on to tell the most horrific story on why there in hell (you don’t have to put a the story in if you don’t want) also if you want can you make reader and Alastor be together and then alastor like yep that’s my partner right there
Please and thank you
Title:
Fandom: hazbin hotel
Pairing: Alastor x reader
Warnings: male reader, dead orphans, mentions of murder and child and adult murder, fluff
Notes: I'm basing the reader off a Patreon fic I wrote also reader is shorter than Alastor in this because that gramophone mf is 7 ft
🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
The sound of slow jazz played over the radio as Alastor and (name) danced in their livingroom, Alastor moving (name) into the hotel after taking the role of hotel manager of sorts. Alastor hummed to the music as he swayed (name) around "truly.. just as beautiful as the day I lost you" he said longing to (name) who leaned up to kiss him "oh 'Al', you have such a way~" (name) cooed as the two danced lovingly.
(Name) Was his sun and moon, his everything...
He was perfect.
And that's why the others looked at him almost horrified, (name) the essence of the sweet 30's house husband who sat beside Alastor dutifully with a charming smile "so you two were together on earth?" Vaggie seemed in a state of disbelief as (name) nodded "he was the swellest guy in our town! Our first date was at an underground bar! Even snuck some wine!" (Name) Said happily as Alastor gave a smug smile at the others. (Name) Rattled on sweetly, innocence radiating off him and even his look screamed almost heavenly as the others looked so confused.
"How THE FUCK are you in hell, you're literally every perverts wet dream you're so innocent!" Angel dust said incredulously and (name) tilted his head "oh, well you see..." (Name) Rattled on in explicit detail about how he went on a war path in their town, killing everyone related to the death of his beloved before killing himself, a sweet smile plastered on his face "so many children became orphans that day!" (Name) Giggled sweetly as Alastor just looked love struck.
"Jesus fuck" husk said horrified as Charlie stared in a state of shock, clearly this one wasn't as innocent as he seemed "though the actual orphans burned to death in a fire" (name) continued as Alastor gently pinched his cheek teasingly.
Truly a match made in hell.
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batfleshh · 3 days
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Late night visit
Ghost X M!DH!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, back on my dog hybrid agenda bc I miss Ghost, insomnia sucks, trouble sleeping, gay sex, no established relationship, you ride him, sleepy sex ig, idk how to put warnings these, praise, cockwarming(?), pup is said, soft and gentle Simon guys, spit as lube, not proofread
Every clock you look at makes you feel so helpless, watching the way the red numbers tick down is so agonizing.
4:28 AM
4:28 AM
4:29 AM
You’re wandering around base aimlessly, your eyes burning from lack of sleep but you just can’t seem to force yourself into that unconscious state. You’ve tried cuddling up with Price in his bed, only to lie awake with your ears twitching at his snoring. You left his room after that, opting to go lay with Soap instead. When you attempted it, you quickly learned how much the Sergeant moved in his sleep. You left that room too when you were shoved unintentionally off the bed. You grumble out of frustration, knowing you’re gonna be in hell trying to keep yourself awake the rest of the upcoming day.
You finally stop in front of Ghosts room after a while of walking, fiddling with your shirt before cracking open the door. You weren’t entirely sure if you were allowed in there or not, but you just decided to take the chance of being scolded and yelled at. You approach his bed, his large silhouette not hard to miss laying in his bed. You walk up to his bed, reaching a hand to tap at his arm. You yelp in surprise as his hand grabs your wrist out of reflex, whining as he shoots up and glares at you. You lets go after realizing who you were, huffing in annoyance as he glances at the digital clock resting on his nightstand.
“Why are you up, solider?” He questions you, staring at you and taking note of your body language. You begin to tell him about your troubles sleeping, and how you’ve tried multiple times to lay somewhere and get rest. He grunts out a response, scarred hand rubbing his forehead. He mumbles something to you along the lines of, “don’t lay too close to me,” and you excitedly climb onto his bed. You feel the mattress dip under your weight, curling up next to him and finally shutting your eyes. You sigh through your nose, trying to get yourself to sleep.
You lay there with your eyes closed for a while, before you sit up, whining and looking over at the clock again. It reads “4:56 AM” and you feel like you want to cry out of both frustration and annoyance. You sit up, moving closer to Ghost and shaking his arm. It doesn’t take much force to get him up, his eyes glaring at you in the darkness of the room, only being illuminated by the moonlight shining through a window. You mumble about how hard it is for you to fall asleep, small sniffles starting to leave you as he sits up, sighing. He notices your emotions starting to spill, sighing once again and cursing to himself.
“What do you need, boy? What do you need me to do?” He questions you, pulling you closer to him and letting you nuzzle yourself against him. You just shrug, ears twitching on your head. You give him a look, a whimper falling past your lips as you stare at his clothes, eyes traveling down his body. You hesitantly move your hands toward his pants, looking at him for permission before you continue. You watch his eyes train over your movements, a noise of approval leaving him as he guides your hand closer.
“S’That it, pup? You wanna get fucked to sleep?” He asks you with a rough edge to his voice, humming as you nod into his neck. You straddle him, rubbing your eyes and freeing his cock from his clothes. You give it a few strokes, his size catching you off guard at first. You whine at the feeling of it in your hand, feeling him move around to prep you. You feel your boxers be lowered, moaning softly at the feeling of his saliva coated fingers prodding at your entrance. It takes him a little bit, but Simon places a gently kiss to your neck when he’s done getting you ready. You’re lifted up and leaned forward against him, moaning and whimpering at the feeling of his tip entering you.
It takes you a bit to get fully relaxed, tears prickling in your eyes as you’re stretched open by every inch of his cock. You latch your hands onto his shirt, his scarred face leaned up against your head. Your tail wags slightly behind you, Ghost thrusting his hips up into you made you feel blissed out. His pace is slow, allowing you to get your own bounces in as you rub your face into his neck. Being treated this gently with Ghost always put you in a certain headspace, allowing you to let go knowing you’re able to get taken care of. You both had rare moments like this, especially with how much you would cling to Price most of the time. But you still appreciate his efforts regardless.
You whine as your eyes grow heavy, slowing your pace down. You can’t help but squirm around on his cock, panting and whining more. You feel his larger hand wrap around your cock, helping you finish before you end up knocking out right then and there. You bite down on his shoulder as you release onto his knuckles, breathing heavily as you lay your head down on the same shoulder. You begin to shut your eyes slowly, listening to Simon hush you as whimpers fall past your lips. Ghost lets you stay on his cock, not bothering to help you off of it. He kisses at your shut eyelids when you finally close them, finally able to start drifting off.
~ ★
a/n: I’m tired
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goofy sex with Soap. Like when slipping out sometimes it will make a noise that kinda sounds like a toot💀 I imagine him staring then busting out laughing.
a/n: this is truly adorable. (Unlike my snake who’s not adorable today because he CHILLED WITH THE MOUSE HE WAS GONNA EAT. LIKE THEY JUST SAT THERE)
Minors DNI
Soap who forgot to lock the door while to busy flirting with you and it slams randomly because of the wind while he’s prepping you with his fingers
Soap who’s wrist pops loudly by accident while his padded and calloused fingers were working you open, a little chuckle escaping him
Soap who can’t help but just beg to be inside you because he’s so so so pent up (and doesn’t wanna finish in his pants just by looking at you too long like this)
Soap who accidentally pulled out one cm too far when he was about to slam back into you, causing you to chuckle as he had to re-line up his member
Soap who’s legs get sore and his arms all stiff from holding you bent in half the whole time on the bed
Soap who had to pull out to answer the insistent knocking on the door with a frown
Soap who cuddles up to you after and chuckles at how much he loves you
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bitterchocoo · 13 hours
Text
Well Deserved Rest
Dr. Veritas Ratio | M. Reader as Medicine Pocket [Reverse: 1999]
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Tsundere Ratio will forever live rent free in my head. That was totally canon!
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"Hey hey! Veritas!"
That annoying voice again.. how many times has he heard it today? It's so annoying.. so high pitched and loud, like a dog, happily barking at their favorite person.
"For the last time, it's Dr. Ratio! Don't call me by name so casually!" He groans at the other's enthusiasm and seemingly endless energy. For the past few years he had known the researcher. [Name] never fails to get on his nerves. Be it the constant teasing or the dog-like demeanor. The only thing he ever decided to tolerate the man is because of his reputation for being a genius amongst geniuses and gaining his current position when he was a mere teenager.
"Look look! I made this serum that presumably—" "I swear if this is one of your unauthorized experiments!"
Not only is he a genius amongst geniuses.. [Name] seems to have a reputation of doing whatever the hell he wants. Paperwork? That can wait! Research? Why should he care about following the status quo? Only when something had caught his attention, that's when the researcher began to actually do his work.
Sometimes Ratio feels like he's babysitting a child—or rather a dog. Given the other's background.
How many times has [Name] decided to chew on the ends of his robe? How many times has [Name] licked his cheek without a second thought?
Honestly...
"Aw come on, Veritas! Can't you live a little?" [Name] asked teasingly, tilting his head to the side, acting all adorable in order to persuade the doctor. Which didn't work. Or so he told himself. "It's not living if you constantly experiment on dangerous unauthorized things! It's called being foolish!"
This earns a chuckle from the other. He sure knows how to get on Ratio's nerves like it's merely looking at the back of his hand. It seems like second nature to him. "You're so boring! Didn't take you to be a stickler to the rules!"
"It's called self preservation!"
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How did this happen..? How in the galaxy had he managed to land himself in this position..? What is it? Nap time? He's out like a light!
Earlier, [Name] had decided to annoy him again, typical, but Ratio was having none of it. So like any other sane person, he ignores the genius in favor of the book he's currently reading. But of course that didn't stop [Name] from teasing and poking him. Trying to get a reaction.
But as time went on. The researcher seems to have worn himself out and started to doze off. Now, Ratio sits there with a book in hand but despite that, his mind was in other places as his gaze shifted towards the sleeping genius who had his head on his shoulder and his right arm being hugged by the other in his sleep.
He's out like a light! What time even is it? Nap time? Maybe it's [Name]'s constant all-nighter he pulls whenever he's so absorbed by his research and experiment? Or is this a by product of his dog-like nature?
Either way, this can't continue!
But when Ratio tries to wake him up, [Name] doesn't seem to respond to it, at all. Sleeping like a rock. So... Ratio decided to just.. let him rest..
Maybe he needs it?
Every time Ratio tries to focus on the book he's reading his mind would always drift towards the sleeping researcher that's using him as a human pillow.
He could feel [Name]'s warm breath hitting his exposed biceps, his shallow and calm breathing, it never fails to send a shiver down his spine. He's so.. comfortable.. so.. at peace..
He's far different than the usual hyperactive, seemingly endless energy researcher he's known for! And that.. makes him feel.. warm..
To think he'll have the honors of witnessing such a rare, vulnerable, and.. intimate side of [Name].. it's..
Ratio snapped out of his thoughts once he felt the other began to stir and slowly woke up from their nap. A nice and comfortable nap. [Name] blinks, once, twice. Before letting out an adorable yawn.
Letting out an annoyed sigh, Ratio spoke up, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I assume you've had a nice nap."
"Oh I did! It was sooo nice~" [Name] took the chance to tease the other as he hugged Ratio's arm closer to his chest with a huge grin plastered on his face. The doctor huffs as he begins trying to shake the other's hold on his arm. "Then get off of me, you damn dog. My arm is tired."
[Name] chuckles in response as he tightens his grip. He hums softly and rests his cheek on Ratio's shoulder, looking at him with big puppy eyes. Trying to act all cute and adorable. "But if your arm's tired, why didn't you just shoved me? You could have done that earlier, right doctor?"
This caught him off guard for a few moments. What is he supposed to say to that? [Name] let out a gasp upon seeing his hesitation. "Don't tell me that you actually enjoy it! Aw~ Ratio you could have just said so! I could have been your cuddle buddy from the start!"
"Cuddle buddy!? How absurd! You dare think that I—Dr. Veritas Ratio. Would ever need such things!? Especially from you?!"
"But your face is red~ I'm right aren't I~?"
"?!"
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clarks-letterman · 1 day
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URGGGGGEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! | zed necrodopolis x male!reader
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a/n — putting this as male reader because it's implied. not explicitly stated but I don't want to misadvertise the fic lol, gender neutral pronouns and body parts used. I don't really like the smut in this but the idea was funny to me… this fic will definitely be non-canon by the time Z4 releases!!
summary — Zed goes to Mountain College and gets a sex toy, his roommate comes to their shared dorm at a bad time.
words — 3k
warnings — smut! 18+ | implications of sex and actual sex occur, uses of the word "gooning", zed zombies out and they fuck so... feral!Zed, slight dubcon!! - first zombies fic so it may be ooc or just poorly written
~~~
Fall was in full swing at Mountain College. Soon the tops of roofs would be snowcapped and walkways would be sprinkled with salt, but for now, everyone tried to enjoy the weather while it was still warm. Sloping sides brought the occasional gusts of wind that all of the early morning go-getters had to deal with. They had to learn the hard way to bundle up if they wanted to make it to class without becoming the next monster to roam the Earth—probably as a snow yeti or something similar. The lecture halls were grand to handle the kind of metamorphosis a lot of human and inhuman students would be going through over the course of their early adult years. The only place where people were forced to grow together were the dorm rooms—as a push for inclusivity at Mountain College left everyone in close quarters to someone—or something—they had no clue existed before college. It was another thing to learn about, to understand that the small circle of your hometown isn’t the only circle to exist. People have groups that come in all shapes and sizes, and not all of them are going to fit together nicely, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be an effort. But there was one unspoken rule that everyone had to learn, regardless of their major: don’t enter a room with a tie, sock, or anything hanging off the door handle. Not at parties, not in classrooms—if there was such a thing to happen, and especially not at your dorm.
When Zed arrived at Mountain College, he never expected anyone to be as pro-zombie as they were. His roommate was insanely warm and kind to him. No one really hid who they were here. They were at that stage where they left the conformities of high school and living with their parents to being so overwhelmed with freedom that they had no way to grasp everything they had. The freedom; the new flaws determined by society were still unclear. Zed was one of those people, being free from the shackles of Seabrook and Zombietown’s driving force in unity to being another student in a sea full of them. It wasn’t to the same extent that he had gone through, but the established scene of breaking free from your past to start something new is what really pushed him to start trying things. He wanted to be a part of the community and to do that, you have to understand the area first. 
Zed started by doing most of his workouts around campus, then transitioning over to the city that was built around Mountain College. The short drive down to the city below could be completed in a timely manner during a daring jog down the road leading to the developed area. He never wore more than a tank top and shorts for his morning runs. The college was north of the city, so he only ever rarely went into the downtown area during his morning runs. He decided to go farther on his run today since he had an upcoming game and needed to burn off the endless brain-fest for dinner from the night before. So many calories, so little scores during his big game was how he viewed it.
Most of the shops still weren’t open, but there was one on this block that was still open. It turns out that the shop was not opening early in the morning, but in fact, closing after a very late night. The neon signs had yet to be turned off, and one reading ‘OPEN’ in big illuminated letters drew his attention. Next to it was a red triple-X sign.
The fleshlight was cobbled together with scraps and carefully welded parts to resemble the repurposed items of Zombietown. It reminded him of home, and the clerk told him that the toy was advanced, deceiving the average person by appearing to only be made of scraps and to have the basic, archaic function of just fucking it. Inside it was a hidden set of magnetic coils that both provided the correct amount of electromagnetic pulses through the zombie’s dick to prevent them from turning into the much more unpleasant version of themselves and it heightened the feeling of jerking off while the machine made contact with the skin from the inside.
He listened to what the clerk had to say about remembering to take off his Z-Band so it wouldn’t overstimulate him to the point of numbness, and that the side effects of it were mainly just slowed brain activity from “too much gooning.” As Zed would be quick to learn, it was called going cockdumb. There was the opposite, too, where his zombie side would forfeit all rational thought and quickly take whatever the closest thing to fuck is around to poundtown.
He learned quickly, though, and did as he said when he got back to his dorm. The order of instructions was simple: get yourself ready—get your dick hard, is how he interpreted it, take off the Z-Band, and use the fleshlight to calm all of his zombie urges. Before he started any of that, though, he placed one of his ties around the door handle facing the hallway. Then he got undressed, stripping down until the full-body mirror over his closet’s sliding door reflected his pale figure and vibrant green hair. He stood in the frame, checking out his recent gains for a second—still eternally lanky, but he was starting to fill out in the places that mattered.
His hands roamed over his body until he got down to his nether regions. Zed rubbed his dick until he was hard enough to stick his dick in the fleshlight, then watched in the mirror as he took off his Z-Band. The area around his eyes started to darken and dark veins started coursing all over his body. He took a few deep breaths before reaching for the fleshlight, each breath drawn in becoming more raspy as his insides changed in a way he couldn’t see. Carefully, holding on to it with an intentionally lighter grip so as to not overuse his own strength, he guided it over his cock and watched his tip disappear into the slit. He moaned, it was tight. He moaned again, it was vibrating. And then he looked back up at his reflection, the monstrous features were gone. 
Zed never told you about his little reveries into sex and pleasure as the weeks went on. After that faithful day, he found that he came harder and started to crave the feeling of release more and more. The feeling was simply addictive to him: a mix of tingles from the electro-pulses and genuine pleasure from the stimulation. But with how frequently he did it, there was bound to be a day where mistiming or miscommunication would expose him in the act. Today was that day.
It was around two in the afternoon, the ground was covered in a thin layer of snow and Zed had stopped his morning runs in favor of a quick indoor exercise and then moved to jerking off while the sun rose—you were returning to your shared dorm with the zombie from a lecture, notably earlier than usual. It was a Gen-Ed for biology, something that Zed had learned when you approached him one night in the hopes of having him help you. If he remembered correctly, it was about zombies—a newly implemented unit in the curriculum, now finding its way into its own circle of life. New studies emerged about the carbon emission of their dead cells that Zed couldn’t help with, but he explained how he felt that he functioned and the way he and plants interacted. That was at the beginning of the semester and it was how he found out that your class ran until around two-thirty. Usually.
Zed was enjoying his time inside for a change. Having finished his classes for the day and feeling the testosterone of his morning workout preserved through it all, he decided the best thing to do during his alone time was to use his broken-in toy. Zed was confident enough to not hide his sex life—well, he was confident enough to act like he was having sex with someone else, not his sex toy or the fact that he edged himself until he literally couldn’t hold it in anymore. That part was thankfully undisclosed by everyone since they knew not to enter his dorm, but you entered without thinking. He was laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling like the white ceiling was painted over with the limitless stream of thoughts flowing out of his head. His eyes were shut, soft moans slipped out and he barely shifted the fleshlight on his dick out of the fear of blowing his load too early.
His load threatening to come out dissipated quickly, though, when he heard the door handle click. Then the hydraulic mechanisms that would normally push the door shut started to whir as it opened. He reached for the blanket he slept under, letting the fleshlight hang off his dick so he could find something to cover himself up. He was mad at himself for slipping into the habit of playing with himself while naked, but it was so much easier to bunch his comforter up against the wall and lay in bed with easy access to all of his holes. In the seconds—which felt even shorter for him—he covered his lower half and just accepted that you would see his bare torso. With enough smooth talking, he could convince you that he had just woken up from a nap. 
“Don’t be mad.” You said, coming in, hoping that he wasn’t with a naked girl or anything. You tried keeping your view of the inside of the room as limited as possible by turning your head just in case. “But I got out early ‘cause of the weather and I saw the sock…”
The only issue was that his fleshlight was forming a bump in his sheets, meaning that he couldn’t be laid down without it looking like he had a huge dick—or what would be the more reasonable explanation: he had a sex toy. Either way, it looked unnatural. So while you were still acclimating to the sight of him, purposefully looking away to give him time to cover up. You were still under the impression that someone else was in there, but you heard the clatter of something hit the floor, followed by a hasty curse under his breath.
You decided that you had given him long enough and finally looked into your shared dorm room. On the floor was a machine made out of old zombie parts that seemed to have broken into pieces, scattered around a pair of bare feet that padded around the carpet in panic. Your eyes trailed up to see Zed, naked and with a raging hard dick. Still freshly coated from the lube he pumped into his fleshlight, still wet enough to glisten in the sunlight pouring in the window behind him. And to say he was naked didn’t mean much, because he was truly naked—no Z-Band in sight on his body. His dick was red for only a second before the veins on it darkened along with the rest of his body. 
Somehow, his dick looked to be bigger, more intimidating. The dark shade it turned caused it to look like anything but slimming. His chest started heaving and that drew you to his arms, bulging with thick black veins that trailed up his arms and increasingly curved arms. They started finding their way to his midsection until his hands reached his dick. Neither one touched his pulsing cock, but motioned around it as if he knew that the fleshlight was unusable. He started fucking the air like he knew the presence of it from his more conscious and tame state.
Incoherently, through a gust of grunts and growls, he started speaking. It sounded like the friendly words he used during your past exchanges but were blatantly needy and desperate. You couldn’t quite hear what he said, so you moved closer under the assumption that he still had some control. Some sense of sanity without his Z-Band on. But as soon as you were within his reach…
Zed grabbed you, pulling you closer to his naked form. You looked at the dark circles around his eyes before meeting his actual eyes. A few words slipped through—as if he could still recall the language he had used for years somewhere deep in his brain—slurring out a loose connection of words that sounded like: “You break it… I break you…”
Zed’s mind was everywhere yet nowhere at once. His feral side was feeling and processing all of the emotions from his “human” side. So many things in his head were whirring for the first time in a while, and nothing was shutting down to compensate for the rising new emotions of rapacity—the urge to have it all and take it all. His head was already running at one-hundred and ten percent so now he needed to claim things in the room. To make things his. His room; the little voice in the back of his head that he suppressed about being annoyed by the fact that he had to share a room with you was finally being heard. You’d walk out of this—or better yet, be carried—with a new perspective on ownership.
Sex with Zed was fast. The urges brought on by his true zombie nature allowed him to rip off the clothes you wore to attend class. They were in shreds, adding to scattered bits of his broken toy, some landing on the sharper parts of it so that you didn’t have to worry about stepping on something painful as he guided you to his bed. It was the closest one to him and the easiest to throw you down on since the sheets were all undone, unmade. He would make you a mess in the next few moments so it didn’t really matter to him.
But for the first time, Zed was faced with a challenge in his zombie brain. He had put you on his bed—the faint smells of sex and sweat emanating into your nose from how much he jerked off in his bed, typically covered by his comforter—but now he looked at you, laid on your back, head on his pillow, and he was faced with one of two choices: did he want to cum in your mouth or your ass? He wanted to do both, and he hit his head in frustration, grunting. The simple thoughts his undead brain was meant to handle couldn’t stomach this as easily as brains.
A feeling deep within him told him that your ass would bring him the greater amount of pleasure, so he hopped on the bed with you, kneeling. His increased strength allowed him to lift your legs easily and with an unmatched haste. Your hole was in clear sight, and he wasted no time in burying himself down into it and lapping away. It was another sensation he had, thanks to consuming a million videos of porn in his spare time. That, and he was still a zombie. Flesh was something that he wanted to taste during his feral frenzy. It was the only thing his tongue tasted: the saltiness of skin. He felt so good, and you wanted to bury your fingers in his vibrant green hair to push him deeper into you, but that seemed a little too risky in his current state. Besides, he didn’t stay down there long. His head reared up a few moments after going down on you, his clear intention to fuck you until he comes, not the other way around.
Thanks to already fucking his fleshlight, his dick was still coated in lube; still sheening with its slick surface reflecting the light. When he put his dick in, he didn’t feel any friction, and he wouldn’t have cared if he did. The friction didn’t bother him and if it didn’t bother him, then it shouldn’t bother you. It never became a problem, though.
Zed decided that the perfect position to keep you in was with your legs over each of his thin shoulders. He started thrusting, taking little to no time to go as fast as he could. He was desperate, uncaring if you needed time to adjust. But, like everything else about his zombie-heightened feelings, what it took to make him cum went up too—much higher than his regular edging point. 
Zed was a quick learner. He found which spots made you feel the best—well, which ones made your face twist and your head turn into his pillow as he fucked you. That seemed to make him climb to the peak faster than anything else. Your ass was tight and soft, sure, but it was your reaction to how he dominated you with his big dick that really made him get going. He unleashed a flurry of moans that were deeper than the voice you got used to hearing.
Wet sounds and slapping filled the room until he came for the first time. You could feel your ass burning from the rough slapping and the way he kept up the skin-to-skin contact—breeding you until he was out of breath. Just like when he first transformed into the beastly version of himself. 
Zed pulled his dick out and you could hear the wet gushing, as well as the feeling of your hole leaking with his cum. He must have been really pent-up because it was already ruining his sheets and still seeping out of the tip of his dick. You looked around for his Z-band, still gathering your surroundings and acclimating yourself to the point-of-view of his bed. It looked to be on his dresser and within arm’s reach, so you went to grab it. But Zed stopped you, guiding your hand to his dick that was still hard. This was going to be a long night…
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supercap2319 · 2 days
Text
"Listen, Archie. I'm not gonna ask what you did with Miss Grundy all summer. Your summer fling or conquest or whatever you want to call it is none of my business."
"No, Y/N, you don't understand. See Geraldine and I—we....we only kissed." Archie said.
"Amongst other things." Y/N finished for him. "Arch, if you wanna tap hot music teacher ass for a summer day, it's nothing I can do about it, but don't stand there and lie to me and say that you like me and you didn't mean it, when you—mwah!
Y/N was cut off by Archie kissing him. Biting into his lower lip and nibbles on it. The way Archie's tongue slips inside his mouth makes Y/N moans for the redhead.
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manlywitch · 2 days
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if it's not uncomfortable for you perhaps could i request a male reader using a vibrator in a semi-public setting like a movie theatre or in an empty classroom on ojiro?
Lil' note: Totally, dudeski, I hope this 《grands thy wishes~》
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🍿Kinks》 - public stuff, light humiliation, toys
🍿Themes?:》 - Smut <NSFW>
🍿-●♡| Setting: On a movie date with Ojiro
🍿<Reader's position:》 Bottom
Song I listened to while writing:
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FEM ALLIGNED DNI
You and Ojiro were going on a movie date tonight, you couldn't wait and had planned to go to you're dormroom afterwards and maybe have sex, or just cuddle if he didn't feel like fucking tonight.
<Timeskip>
During the movie, Ojiro noticed you being a little fidgety, he asked if something was wrong but you just reacted with a breathy 'Y-yes..' . Why were you fidgety you might ask? Well, before you left you decided to shove a small vibrator up you're ass, just to 'spice things up a little', you hadn't fully thought it out though and were scared you're boyfriend was gonna find out about it.
<Another timeskip>
The movie was over, and you couldn't handle the feeling of the vibrator in your ass so you excused yourself and technically waddled towards the men's restroom.
Finally...
You stepped into one if the stalls and pulled down your jeans and underwear, you saw that your cock was leaking precum and was half-hard, you shakily moved your hand over to your bare ass and pulled out the vibrator, a soft sigh escaped your lips, you sat down on the toilet, your cheeks red as you just thought about what you did, quite embarrassed, you know that you had done a thing like this before, but not for a longer period of time like this, you held the small egg shaped vibrator in your hand when you heard a voice, it was your boyfriend, you were a bit startled.
"Uhm, babe...? You almost done..?" Ojiro said, you could hear his tail dragging slightly onto the ground as he walked in slow circles, mostly to keep himself busy.
"Y-yes..!" You whisper yelled, you held onto the vibrator, you noticed you had left your bagpack in the auditorium... 'shit..' you thought to yourself as your eyes widened, where were you gonna leave that vibrator?!
You looked around, not knowing where to put it, you knew it was gonna be obvious if you pit the vibrator in your pocket, but you currently didn't have any other place..
Slipping it into the pocket and pulling your jacket over your pants, you let out a soft sigh, flushed the toilet as to make Ojiro think you actually went to the bathroom, and walked out.
"What took you so long in there..?" Ojiro asked, his voice soft and polite.
"Ah..." you looked at your boyfriend. "Just, I had to go number 2-.." you said, it was a clear lie, but your boyfriend seemed to buy it for now.
"I left my bag in the auditorium.." you said, already making your way back to the auditorium to get your bag back, as you walked in and picked up your bag off the floor, your jacket curled up a little, showing the bulge in your front pocket. "Uhm, babe..What is that..?" Ojiro asked you, pointing at the vibrator, when you stared at him, wide eyed not answering, he took matters into his own hands and took it out of your pocket, what he then saw, made his cheeks a bright pink colour, in his hand laid a sleek, small, metallic coloured vibrator, your eyes widened too. "O-ohh...How did that get in there...." you muttered.
"I...Babe, did you...Oh..." Ojiro's cheeks were jow red a she realized what was going on.
"....Uhm..Yeah..." you muttered.
"S-so..U-uhm.." Before you could finish your sentence Ojiro's tail wrapped around your waist and he was already half dragging you to the men's restroom.
"I didn't know you were into public stuff..." Ojiro whispered as he closed the door to the stall the 2 of you were currently in.
"A-ah...Yeah..." You looked down, embarrassed.
Ojiro grabbed your chin with his strong hand as he pressed his lips to your neck. "Mmm..." He muttered.
"Do you...Wanna do it...In here..?" Ojiro said, biting his lip, trying to come across as sexy, you felt his tail twitch slightly around your waist.
"I mean...S-sure.." You said, your cheeks red, Ojiro smiled and looked down at the vibrator, which he still held in his other hand.
"Who goes first...?" He whispered, but then was already starting to pull your pants and underwear down, he squeezed your asscheek before turning on the vibrator and holding it against your entrance, not yet pushing it in, just teasing you.
This ripped a small startled gasp from you as he pressed his lips against yours to stop you from making too much noise as he actually started to push it into your ass, your eyes closed as you tried to stop yourself from whimpering, he started toying with your asscheeks as the vibrator did it's work in your gummy, pink walls. "Mmh..." you whimpered softly, groping his tail for dear life, your cock twitched and your eyes widened as you looked at your boyfriend, panting softly. His hand moved to your cock, he gently teased the tip before starting to jerk you off, soft gasps and whines left your mouth as you drooled slightly on his shoulder, your hand gripped his tail harder.
"C-cumming...~♡" You whimpered out as soft pants left your mouth, Ojiro started to stroke your cock even faster until you were trembling abd whimpering, laying limp against his chest as cum shot out of your cock.
You looked at him, eyes wide as you panted loudly, coming down from your orgasm.
"Your adorable.." Ojiro muttered as he pulled the vibrator out of your ass. ♧
♡🍿♡🍿♡🍿♡🍿♡🍿♡🍿♡🍿♡🍿♡🍿♡🍿♡🍿
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writing-mlm · 23 hours
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I was wondering if you could do a Zuko x male reader fic? I’ve been scouring everywhere for male reader fics sob😭
I told you so (It was always about you)
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Summary: You're worried about life after the war, really you're worried about life without Zuko. Too bad you're as love blind as Toph is blind. Pairing: Zuko x waterbender!male!reader WC: 7.4k TW: its hinted about reader being trans, readers mother asking about grandkids a/n: this was gonna be sm longer but I haven't posted in agesssss
“Katara,” You softly call in front of her tent. It’s the dead of night, four days before Aang is supposed to be fighting Ozai and you’re in front of Katara’s tent, nervously picking at your hair ribbon. “Katara!” You call again, leaning close to the fabric. 
“Huh?” She opens the flap to the tent, only able to see with the dying campfire behind you. 
   “Can I come in?” You whisper and she tiredly nods, rolling back over to her spot so you can enter. Settling on your knees on top of a hide blanket, you close the tent and watch as she lights a lantern. 
Patting your fingers against your bare knees, you look around her tent. It’s mostly the same as the others Zuko has bought, but she has her clothes neatly folded next to her pillow with her necklace set securely under the pillow. 
“Why aren’t you asleep yet?” She asks through a yawn and you nod, even though it wasn’t a yes or no question. 
   “I uh… I need to ask you something…” You trail and she nods, propping herself on her arm. “Do you think… do you think Zuko will stay with us after Aang defeats Ozai?” She raises an eyebrow, it's well into the night and you kept yourself up for hours, mulling over that question. “It’s just… he’ll become Fire Lord and he’ll be busy. What if he forgets m- us?” Ah, she blinks, that’s why you’re worried. 
“He won’t forget you,” She reassures, putting a hand on top of your hand and your eyes widen before you move your hand from under hers. 
   “I wasn’t talking about—“ Lowering your voice, you clear your throat. “I wasn’t talking about me, I meant the whole group.” You shake your head, looking off towards the tent's entrance to see if you had woken anyone up. “We’re all his friends, not just me.” Awkwardly chuckling, you rise and wave your hand. “Forget I even said anything, I’m just tired. Pre-battle nerves and everything…” Without protesting, Katara watches as you stand up and open the door of sorts to the tent, nearly tripping on your way up. 
“He won’t leave you.” She says as you leave her tent. 
Regretting not bringing a blanket with you, you look at the moon and run your hands along your arms for warmth before going back to finding your tent in the near pitch-black area Aang has decided to stop at for the night. It doesn’t take long to find your tent, though since standing in front of your tent, you see Zuko standing with a small flame in the palm of his hand. 
“You okay?” You ask and he turns around, the flame flickering with the sudden movement. His shoulders settle as he sees you and the flame dies down just a bit, just enough that you can fully see him when you’re close enough. 
   “I heard you yelling,” He admits, keeping his voice down in case he woke anyone up. If only you’d been as good. “Why were you in Katata’s tent?” He takes notice of your fundoshi and sarashi and you shake your head, gesturing back to her tent. 
“I was asking her a question…about… water bending.” He slowly nods, not believing your very obvious lie but doesn’t press on. “So…” Looking away from him, you chew the inside of your cheek and sigh, trying to find something to say. 
“So…?” He repeats. 
   “Future Fire Lord, amirite?” Lightly punching his arm, you immediately curse yourself. “I mean— like, with Aang and your dad and stuff…?” He blinks, once and then twice. “I’m just… y'know?” Looking at the moon, you squint. “Look at the moon! It’s late! I better go to sleep now, goodnight!” Darting into your tent, you push yourself to the furthest corner and watch as Zuko stands there for a couple of seconds before he clears his throat. 
“Yes, goodnight.” He says before walking away. Sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose and allow yourself to sit in pure embarrassment until you eventually fall asleep. 
Katara had come around fully to the idea of Zuko, something about being next to your sorta enemy while deciding not to kill your mother's killer brought them closer together. It was nice. 
Everyone had been sort of relaxed during their stay at his father's empty beach house but you were still on edge. Staying in Ozai’s own beach house was risky, he could decide he finally wanted a dip in the ocean and show up. Especially with Sokka and Suki exploring into town, word could spread. Even if Zuko didn’t share the same sentiment. 
“Calm down,” Toph grunts as she shoves your calf. Stumbling onto a pillar, you glare at her. “I’d feel if anyone was around.” That was true, you supposed. Sighing, you decide to give it a rest looking around the surrounding area of the house, and settle next to Toph. She and Katara were watching Aang and Zuko practice their Fire Bending, you tried not to watch. It only reminded you that you could possibly die in a horrible fire, feeling the water leave your body until you become a crisp husk of yourself. 
Toph, clearly feeling your worry huffs and grabs your shirt before pulling you down. Forcing you to lay on your back, she hums and closes her eyes. Doing the same, you instead think about nearly anything else. Even try to clear your mind, although you only think airbenders can truly do that. 
“Doesn’t it seem kind of weird that we’re hiding from the Fire Lord in his own house?” Katara asks sometime later, once the two finish up their training. 
   “I told you, my father hadn’t come here since our family was actually happy,” Zuko explains, his seventh time explaining that exact point. Sitting up, you catch him wiping the sweat from his head. “And that was a long time ago. It’s the last place anyone would think to look for us,” He adds, staring at you. 
“You guys are not gonna believe this!” Sokka exclaims as he rushes into the courtyard with Suki behind him, a rolled-up paper in his grip. “There’s a play about us!”
“We were just in town and we found this poster.” Looking at the picture on the poster, you cover your mouth and listen as Sokka and Suki read the poster. It sounds horrid. Zuko knows it’ll be horrible. Katara doesn’t want to go. 
As such, everyone goes. 
“Why don’t the girls sit up there and the boys sit down there?” Katara grins, already shoving Sokka from the bench next to Suki. She grins at you, motioning with her eyes to Zuko. 
   “Why?” Aang frowns, clearly trying to set you up was affecting Aang trying to set him and Katara up. 
    “She clearly wants the better view!” Sokka almost shouts. Everyone shushes him and looks around. 
“Why don’t we just sit where we want?” Toph groans, plopping down on the outside of the lower bench. “My feet can’t even see from up here!” Katara shares Aang’s frown and slumps down next to Toph. 
   “I’ll tell your feet what’s happening,” She promises, barely registering that Zuko sat next to her. There was more space on the top bench but you were sure you didn’t want to sit next to the couple and took the spot next to Zuko. Aang sighs and takes the seat next to Sokka. 
The play starts, opening with the actors that played Katara and Sokka on their canoe. Katara’s actress is… something. From the first word, you check out. 
“I told them,” Zuko whispered when the two started to complain. Only Toph seems to be enjoying the play. 
   “We could leave,” You grin, catching the actor freeing the girl playing Aang. He thinks about it, genuinely thinks about it but he’s enjoying Aang complaining about his own character until ‘Zuko’ and ‘Iroh’ show up.
“They make me look totally stiff and humorless,” He complains. As much as you don’t want to say it, it’s the most accurate portrayal of the group so far.  
   “Actually, I think that actors are spot on,” Katara muses. 
    “How could you say that?” He gasps at the same time his actor says the same thing. 
“We should leave,” He agrees and goes to stand up but Sokka pushes him down. Eventually, the scene where they meet your actor appears. The actor playing you is… something. He’s a quiet actor, hunching himself over and running away from any source of fire. Then, there’s only one scene with Yue, her death. Immediately after it’s the scene where you found out about her death. Your actor, for the first and only time in the play, blows up and yells at Sokka. Nearly killing him by accidentally freezing him. 
The play wasn’t wasn’t completely wrong in that sense. 
It wasn’t something you were proud of, no matter how much Sokka swore it was water under the bridge. 
“Do you want to leave?” Zuko whispers, grabbing your hand. Probably to make it quicker if the two of you decided to leave. Nothing else. 
   “Do you?” You ask, looking over at him. Yes, yes, you fucking wanted to leave the play. This whole thing was a stupid idea. 
   “I never wanted to stay,” He blinks, and yeah, that’s true. 
As quietly as possible, as Katara is busy explaining to Toph, as Aang is trying to strike up a conversation with Katara, and Suki and Sokka are lightly arguing about his portrayal, the two of you leave the theater. 
The intermission would be soon, anyway. 
“I didn’t know you did that,” Zuko says but judging by his face, he immediately regrets his words. 
   “I thought he killed my sister,” You humorlessly laugh, leaning against the banister. “What was I supposed to do? Not kill him,” 
“That’s reasonable,” He agrees, his thumb running across the flesh of your hand. He feels the curves of your knuckles, the dips of the scar left there from a fight with an earthbender. He still thinks punching the rock was stupid. You watch, looking at your intertwined fingers. 
Ever since that night in the tent, Zuko has been acting strange. He’s been more touchy, he actively seeks you out in the group, and he's a bit more awkward with you. Toph, whenever they’re alone, always teases him about it. 
A stupid part of you, so you’ve dubbed it, thinks he could feel the same way. The rational part of you thinks he’s committing you to memory, so when he leaves for good he won’t forget you. 
“Do you want something to eat?” He asks, long after the two of you stood in the silence that took over the balcony, the both of you staring at your hands. 
   “No,” You shake your head a little. “I’m good here. You?”
“I’m good here, too.”
 In truth, you were surprised that Zuko had picked you over Katara to join him in fighting Azula. You don’t think you were as good as her, close, but not to her level. She was better on her feet while your biggest issue was second-guessing yourself. 
“The sky’s lovely,” You admit, holding Appa’s reins tightly. 
   “It is.” Zuko says without ever looking up. His eyes are cast towards Appa’s fur, he refuses to look at anything else. Not until Appa starts to descend towards the palace. 
Azula is on her knees, about to be crowned in front of no one. There’s no crowd other than the officials around her. 
“Sorry, but you’re not gonna become Firelord today.” Zuko says before leaping off of Appa. “I am.” She laughs and you stare at her hair. It’s a mess, the worst you’ve ever seen them. They’re cut unevenly, but not on purpose. Her top knot is sloppy done and everything else is a mess. 
    “You’re hilarious,” 
“You want to be Firelord? Fine. Let’s settle this. Just you and me, brother. The showdown that was always meant to be—“ She grins, baring her teeth down at Zuko. “Agni Kai!” 
“You’re on.” Zuko agrees. While you don’t agree to let Zuko fight her alone; the both of you know Azula wouldn’t be able to fight the two of you straight on, her only chance would be a one-on-one.  But if  Zuko agrees, you’ll let him. If push comes to shove, you won’t be far. 
As they prepare for the Agni Kai, you fly Appa away. Far enough that he’s away from any attacks that might come his way. When you return, you return to a wall of blue and yellow fire splitting down the middle. It’s pushing Zuko back but it doesn’t seem to care. The sounds of the fire are damn near horrifying, you hear it from all around you, and feel the warmth of their fires as they fly around, setting everything around it ablaze. 
Eventually, Azula is knocked back and Zuko yells about her lightning. Taunting her for being scared but she swears she isn’t and prepares her strike. It’s a last-second decision, as she fires her shot and you notice it isn’t heading for Zuko but for you.  He notices and jumps in front, clutching the strike to his chest before he falls. Sparks fizzle around him as you rush over but Azula fires at you. 
Her attention is no longer on her brother, he’s as good as dead in her eyes. 
Thankfully, though, the area is surrounded by water. It’s not a lot, though. Most of it evaporates by the second stream of fire she sends your way and you dive behind a pillar. There are stripes of fire all around you, and you don’t know what to do. You could grab Zuko and leave or you could fight. You could try and heal Zuko and the two of you fight but you don’t know if that’ll work. 
“Running away?” She cackles, flying down using her fire. Grabbing some of the water that was on the other side of the area, you use it to put distance between the two of you. Eventually, you run out of water and are forced into a new area as Azula throws a burst of fire at you. It nicks at your skin and you bite your tongue, holding back the yell of pain. Tripping, you notice that the floors have metal gates. Peering inside, you thank the spirits. Running water. 
Grabbing chains used to keep the doors closed, you wait for Azula. 
“There you are, Water Prince.” Azula sneers, standing in front of you. She takes two steps forward, waiting for you to do something. But you just need her to get closer. Sending a spray of water to her left, she dives right and straight to you, readying herself to lightning strike you. 
Her fingers nearly touch you, but you raise your arms, pulling the water below the two of you high and wide enough that she couldn’t possibly get out of it. It freezes around her almost instantly and you quickly wrap her arms in the chains before locking it to the grate. 
Giving them a tug, they don’t budge and you drop the water back into the grate. She struggles, gasping for air but you go back to Zuko. 
He’s still in pain, writhing on the ground as you flip him onto his back. Pulling some water from the pouch Katara had gifted you, you try your best to heal his wound. You had only learned the basics of healing, before your father eventually ‘came to his senses’ and put you in training with the boys. 
But it’s good enough, as the water glows and he seems to be in less pain. 
“Thank you, (Y/n).” He mutters, his eyes barely open. “But you should heal yourself.” His hand raises, ghosting over the burnt skin of your neck. 
  “I’ll be fine,” You croak, pulling his hand down to his side. “Worry about Azula.” Helping him up, the two of you watch as she yells out, spitting fire before collapsing to the floor and sobbing. 
“What will you—“
“She’s still my sister,” He says, watching as she falls asleep, still crying. He nods to one of the advisors and leans on you for support, letting you guide him back to Appa. “And she needs help. My father, should Aang spare his life, will go to prison.” 
For his coronation, Zuko had requested that everyone come dressed in their best traditional wear. And not Fire Nation traditional. He had specifically asked for everyone to wear their traditional clothes and accessories, asking everyone to spare no detail. And with a month to prepare, you think you did quite well with your outfit.
Sliding your norigae through your left ear, you admire the crescent moon pendant and untangle the soft blue string hanging below it. It brushes against your ivory choker, one that’s similar to Sokka’s but his choker is thicker with one row while yours is five thinner rows of bone. 
“You look good,” Looking behind you in the mirror, you thank Suki and see she’s wearing her Kyoshi Warriors uniform. 
   “I’m feeling a bit overdressed if I’m being honest.” You chuckle, staring at your many, many layers. The most noticeable of a long piece of fabric going down between your legs, resting just above your ankles with careful pattern stitching that matches your putter shirt. It’s connected to your outer jacket, but you can’t tell with your whale hide belt and tiger seal fleece sort of skirt. It doesn’t connect in the front, but that’s what your mothers always called it. 
“It’s nice,” She shakes her head. “You should see what Toph is wearing.” She adds and you turn around to face her. “She’s waiting in the main room with Katara.” Crap, you knew you shouldn’t have taken so long. 
   “Oh, am I the last one?” At that, Suki laughs and puts her hands on her hips. 
   “Sokka isn’t even out of the bath yet,” Of course he isn’t. While you might be the most overdressed, at least you weren’t the last person dressed. You shake your head and thank her again, leaving for the main room.
Once you’re there, you see Toph is sitting on the sofa, sitting as comfortably as she can when she’s wearing something so far from her comfort zone. 
Her typical headband is replaced with a golden kuitou with several pom-poms and gems. Her hair is mostly the same, but she’s swept the middle part of her bands to either side. You’ve never seen that much of her forehead before. She’s also wearing a heziqun, a tube top of sorts, worn over her quin, which is a long silky skirt— wait, those are just really loose pants. Smart. She’s also got on a zhai xu, the sleeves part of her dress. Her pibo, the long thin scarf that’s typically draped over her arms, is sitting on the couch next to her. 
“Don’t say a word,” She says, her eyes snapping to you. 
   “Wasn’t going to,” You hum, taking a seat next to her. 
Katara is across from you, wearing an outfit similar to your own but hers is distinctly from the Southern Water Tribe. 
“Don’t be nervous,” Toph grins over at you and you curse under your breath, she’s not wearing shoes. “You’ll see your boyfriend soon enough.” She pats your shoulder, faking a pout. 
   “Not my boyfriend,” You purse your lips, there’s no way you’re going to go back and forth on this with a child. 
    “If you say so,” She loudly sighs and stretches. “But when you get married I want to be your best man.”
“I don’t think so,” Okay, fine, maybe you were going to give in a little. Just a smidge. She frowns and punches your arm. “Ow! Toph, there are no groomsmen in Water Tribe weddings! But I would totally go to you for the ring,” 
“Good,” She nods. “I know you have horrible taste in gems. You’d probably want something basic like a diamond.” She makes a face as she says it and Katara rolls her eyes. 
   “I was thinking something like agate or azurite,” You’re not entirely sure where to find those, but once you do, it’s over for them. 
“Yeah, Zuko would like that.” She nods wistfully. 
“This isn’t about Zuko,”
“Isn’t it?”
The coronation had ended and it was nearly time to begin the festivities, but first, you had to see Zuko. He’d sent for Ty Lee to bring everyone to him in what is now his throne room. It seemed more welcoming, despite nothing changing but the person who sat on the throne. 
Zuko pauses his pacing as he hears the footsteps drawing closer and visibly relaxes at the sight of everyone. As he descends down the stairs he dismisses the court and Ty Lee, although she was already leaving at that point. She was more excited about the after-party and hanging out with her new friends, anyway. 
“Thank you for coming,” He smiles at you before remembering the others are also in the room. “There’s a small feast waiting for us, please, join me.” He doesn’t say this, but you know from records that those feasts are between the Fire Lord and his family, and as of last week, he didn’t have any remaining family that was able to join him. Well, he had his Uncle Iroh, but he was busy setting up for later that night. 
   “Free food, I’m in! Lead the way, Oh Great Fire Lord!” Sokka grins, placing his hands on Zuko’s shoulder and literally pushing him out of the room. You laugh, walking alongside Aang towards the room, watching as Suki and Toph take the time to loudly complain about Sokka. 
“See,” Katara whispers, falling into step with the two of you. “He isn’t going to leave.” Covering her mouth, you stop walking until you’re sure the distance is too great that Zuko wouldn’t hear. 
   “I never…” Taking a deep breath, you glance at Aang. “I don’t know what she's talking about,” You tell him with a small shrug, he just stares at Katara, waiting for her to explain. 
   “He’s lying,” Toph shouts and you grumble. Wiping your mouth, you stand up straight and continue walking. 
Waiting at the doors of the room for everyone to catch up, Zuko has a small smile on his face when you stand next to him. 
“You guys go in, I want to talk to (Y/n),” He nods and two guards open the doors. Sokka and Toph don’t need to be told twice and rush inside, much to everyone’s amusement. Katara squeezes your arm as she passes by and Aang gives you a thumbs up you pretend to not notice. 
Zuko waits until the doors close and the two of you walk in silence until you’re both in the palace courtyard, in front of the turtle duck pond. 
“Really,” He nods once the two of you are alone. “Thank you for coming. And-and you look amazing, by the way.” He gestures to your outfit. “You’re not too hot, right? I have a lot of spare clothes you could wear if you’d like…” He looks off to the balcony of his room. 
  “I’m fine,” You smile, holding your hands in front of you. “I actually toned down the layers, I usually wear four more for ceremonies,��� Looking around the courtyard, you wonder what the palace would look like had it been made of ice. 
   “That’s good,” He nods, fiddling with the fabric of his sleeve before he clears his throat, pulling your attention back to him. “Not that you toned it down, just that you’re not uncomfortable.” He hastily adds before a silence falls over the two of you. 
“That night, at the tents…” He starts and you slowly nod. That memory was almost completely forgotten but you remember the most basic gist of the night. “I won’t leave the team— you behind.” He forcefully corrects himself and you have to force yourself to still look at him. “I don’t plan on leaving you behind.” He reiterates. 
“Oh,” You hum, biting the corners of your mouth to stop your smile from growing. 
“I don’t know who to say this,” He trails off and reaches to grab your hand. He grips it tightly and your heart hammers, there’s a million different things he could possibly want to say but you know. Hopefully. “But my uncle advised me to speak freely about this. I have… I would like— no,” His face contorts and you nod, promising to let him take his time. He thinks for a moment, his eyes dipping to stare at your hands. “Would you like to co-rule the Fire Nation with me?” He asks, his good eye squinting at his own words. Yeah, that sounded right to him. 
“Like as an advisor?” You tilt your head. “I mean, I do have a military background, my father is—“
“As my consort.” He corrects and your eyes widen. 
“Oh,” You blink and open your mouth to speak before closing it again. 
“I understand if you say no, but I need you to know my feelings before things become… distant between us. I know you’re going back to help your father and I’m staying here,” He says when the gap of silence becomes too much for him to bear. 
   “No!” You vigorously shake your head and he deflates a little more. “No, I mean, yes to the question. No to the whole ‘if you say no’ part. I would very much enjoy being your consort.” You rush out. 
“Really?” He asks, his eye widening and eyebrow-raising. “I know it’s a lot all at once, we could start small—“
“I’m okay with starting big,” You grin.  “Skip the courting and go straight to dating, not marriage tomorrow big, you know.” You add, your eyes trailing off to the flowers of the garden. 
   “I’m too young for marriage,” He agrees. “But I could see an engagement soon.” His eyes flicker to your hair and then down to your face while yours dips down to his neck. 
“Good.” Dropping one of his hands, you jerk your head back the way you came. “Let’s go eat! Before Sokka and Toph leave us to starve,” 
Joining the others, you settle yourself between Katara and the end of the table while Zuko takes the head of the table, with Aang and Toph on either side of him. 
“So,” Katara’s eyes flicker between you and Zuko. “What did you two talk about?” She asks, doing her absolute worst to hide the grin plastered on her face. 
“Things,” You shrug, filling your plate. 
   “Mundane things,” Zuko agrees. 
“Like?” Suki presses. 
“He thought I would want a change of clothes. Can you pass the dumplings, please?” Aang nods and grabs the plate. 
“Yes, he looks very hot—“ Zuko pauses and you stare at him, the mostly empty plate of dumplings in your clutch. “Temperature wise… in his clothes.” His eyes catch Toph’s and he nearly leaps; he’ll never get over the fact that she knows where his eyes are. She just snickers and continues to eat. 
“Makes sense, let’s eat!” Sokka raises his cup in the air, nearly spilling his tea on Suki’s lap. “To Zuko! The best Fire Lord ever!” Everyone follows suit, raising their cups. 
Midway through the meal, you catch Zuko grazing his chest with a slightly contorted expression. The spot Azula’s lightning had struck him. 
“Does it still hurt?” You ask, wiping some sauce from the corner of your mouth. “I know my healing isn’t the best, so…” 
“No,” He shakes his head, his hand settling back to his lap. “You’re perfect— it’s perfect,” He quickly corrects and you notice how the table goes quiet. He cringes and you stare down at your plate, grabbing a spring roll to avoid smiling. “I just drank too fast.” He explains, now much more careful with his words. 
“Oh, that makes sense,” You glance at him and briefly make eye contact. 
    “Mhmm,” He says, still watching you. 
“Is it just me or are you two acting weird?” Sokka asks, looking between the two of you. 
   “He’s an idiot,” Suki mutters. 
“Speaking of weird,” Clearing your throat, you point your half-eaten spring roll at Sokka. “Do you guys remember when Sokka set up a literal love tent?” 
“He what?” Katara shouts, choking on her food. 
With the ceremony and feast over, it’s time to get changed and prepare for the rest of the night’s festivities. Everyone heads into their temporary rooms in the palace and you immediately drop most of your layers. 
In truth, you were sweating in your outfit, normally you wouldn’t wear so many layers for over four hours, especially in the Fire Nation, but it’s been around eight and you’re sticky and sweaty. Thankfully, there’s an attached bathroom and you’re able to soak for a bit before you need to start getting ready. 
You’d packed some clothes for the night, but when you entered the bedroom again there was a pile of red clothes folded neatly on the bed, and below the bed was a pair of red boots. 
Grabbing the top layer, you fold it and stare at the boran lakron— namely the deep v-neck it has and then down to your sarashi. You don’t mind all that much, it’s not as if your garments are a secret. But when you pick up the next item, you see he’s provided a second option; a tangzhuang. 
The longer you stare at the sleeveless, button-down shirt the longer you’re convinced it’s his. You’re sure you’ve seen him wear the same dark red and golden shirt before. Putting that on, you leave it unbuttoned for the time being and grab the next layer. 
It’s a pair of fisherman's pants, you own a pair yourself and had packed it along, but you don’t mind wearing the new one. Pulling them up, you wrap the extra fabric over itself before tying the string to keep it from falling. Slipping your huwan’s back onto your forearms, you lace them up before sitting on the bed. The shoes he’d provided were slip-on shoes that surprisingly fit. 
“Knock-knock!” Aang says as he’s knocking on your door. 
   “Come in!” You call, briefly looking at the door as you’re doing your hair. Ceremony hair was a pain and a half to undo. Mainly since the most you’d do to your hair is tie it up with a ribbon. 
   “I didn’t know you owned Fire Nation clothes,” Aang comments as he throws himself onto your temporary bed. He’s back to his typical clothes and you stare at him through the mirror. 
“I don’t… these were on my bed.” Sitting up, Aang raises an eyebrow before his face gets that look when he makes a connection. 
   “So,” He looks away, pretending to think about something to say. “Are you going back home after this?” He asks. You don’t think anything of the question, after all, it was Aang asking you. 
“Not for long,” You shake your head. “I don’t see myself settling down there again.” Checking over your hair, your fingers ghost over your neck. There’s still a scar there from the fight, but it doesn’t bother you. Not anymore. Just sometimes you forget about it. 
   “Oh?” He grins but hides it. “Where do you see yourself settling down?” Dropping your hand, you spin around to face Aang. 
“Somewhere,” You shrug, looking him up and down, it’s weird that you were provided with clothes but he wasn’t. “How about you?” 
“Me and Katara are planning on traveling, continuing to spread peace and all the Avatar stuff,” He shrugs, standing up. “You should join us… if you don’t have plans already!” It’s as though he’s trying to guide you into an answer— he is! Katara must’ve put him up to this because she knew you wouldn’t answer her. 
“Maybe,” Patting his shoulder, you check the sun. You have another hour before you’re supposed to head out and you really want to get to work on sending a letter to your parents about your relationship. They’d left after the ceremony, missing the coldness of the Southern Water Tribe. “I’ll definitely let you know, though!” 
The ride to Iroh’s tea shop was nice, everyone had flown on Appa, overlooking Ba Sing Se. You and Zuko were in the back, honestly just staring at each other until the other noticed before looking away. 
Iroh greeted everyone but he’d taken a second to look at your clothing. Instead of saying anything, he only smiled and let everyone into the shop. It was closed for the day, so Iroh could see his nephew and friends. 
Having changed into the shop's uniform, Zuko handed out tea to everyone until Sokka interrupted him, talking about trying to capture the moment. 
“I wanted to do a painting. So we always remember the good times together,” He admits and everyone goes over to see the drawing. It was definitely a drawing, taking a lot of artistic liberties. But it was nice, and you appreciate the sentiment, even as Zuko’s hand found yours. 
“Young love,” Iroh sighs and the two of you jump, separating to opposite ends of the table. He laughs, holding his stomach, and guides you back to Zuko. “Fire and ice, opposites at war but they aren’t too dissimilar, no?” His eyes flicker between the two of you and you hold back your wide grin. He’d basically said he was more than fine with your relationship. 
“Thank you, Uncle.” Zuko relaxes. 
“For what?” He asks, raising his cup to his mouth. “I am not going to get in the way of love.”
To say that the Fire Lord's appearance in the Northern Water Tribe was met with open arms would be a big fat lie. Had it not been for the Chief's son at his side Zuko would’ve been turned away without a second glance. 
While it wasn’t unexpected, you can tell it still deeply hurt Zuko. He wasn’t his father but he was his father's son and he guesses that’s worse. He’s paying for sins he had committed when he was lost as well as the sins of his family. But, he didn’t let it deter him. Instead, he walked side by side as you guided him through your homeland. 
The path to the palace was straight, so it wasn’t too long. But long enough that people had begun to exit their homes to see the Fire Lord and Prince walking in stride towards the palace. Surely the elders talk and theorize, and there would be gossip that you’d never hear the end of. 
By the time the two of you reached the bottom of the stairs, you saw your parents standing side by side at the top. Zuko had seen them before, during his coronation, but he had never actually met them before. 
“Chief Arnook, Kayuula; it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Zuko bows his head to your parents. 
   “Mother, father.” You greet, waiting for the invitation for a hug. 
“Welcome back,” Your father smiles, pulling you into a hug. Your mother joins, burying her head into the crook of your neck. “With a….” He looks at Zuko, an eyebrow raised. “Suitable partner.” He settles on saying. 
   “Come in,” Your mother extends her hand to Zuko and he looks at you, unsure of what to do. When you nod, he shakes as he takes her hand, letting her guide him inside. 
“Before you ask,” You rush as the door shuts. “We do have a timeline of our engagement.” Most Water Tribe relationships don’t start with dating, jumping straight to wedding preparations once both parties are of age. But for the Fire Nation, they date. Like, actually date. 
   “That’s good,” Your father nods his hand on your shoulder. “Does he treat you nice?” He whispers, watching as your mother shows Zuko paintings from your youth. 
“He does,” You nod. 
   “Does he know?” He adds, gesturing to your chest. 
“He does,” Once again, you nod. “He’s more than okay with it, father.” He inhales and nods but stops walking. Putting more of a distance between the two groups.
   “You’ll always be home here. If he’s pressuring you—“
“Father,” Stopping him, you move to hold his hands. “Zuko wouldn’t. I trust him— fully. Wholeheartedly.” He exhales, checking your eyes before he gives in. 
   “I simply cannot lose another child,” He admits as the two of you start walking again. “Our wounds are only beginning to heal.” He continues, looking at a painting of Yue. 
“I understand, I miss her dearly.” 
“(Y/n), Darling; hurry!” Your mother sings and your father smiles, picking up the pace into the living room. She sat across from Zuko who couldn’t be more uncomfortable. 
“Mother,” You tease, settling next to Zuko. “She didn’t tell you about the process of skinning, did she?” You ask and he shakes his head and slowly relaxes. 
   “I was asking if you two have consummated the relationship yet.” She says as if it was a normal conversation. Your father hums, his gaze settling on Zuko. 
“Mother,” You choke. “We haven’t… er… we haven’t kissed yet.” Her eyebrows raise but she doesn’t speak on it. “We wanted to tell
you in person before anything further.”
“I want grandkids!” She complains. 
   “Preferably one boy and one girl,” Your father adds. “I think five grandkids would suffice.” He hums and your jaw drops. 
“Father, we haven’t discussed children.” You meekly admit, glancing at Zuko. “We aren’t even sure if I can have children.” 
“Visit the elders today,” Your father nods as if it was settled. “Ask them for advice and guidance.” 
“So, I’m assuming you approve of us?” You ask anything to move the conversation. They look at each other, having a silent conversation before they both nod. 
   “I see no issues,” Your mother smiles, resting her head on your father's shoulder. “Besides, if he mistreats you, you have all the water benders in the world and the Avatar to stop him.” She shrugs. 
“Oh,” You gulp. “That’s nice.”
One year and seven months of dating had come and gone and it was time. You felt it was time and so did Zuko. War makes life seem short, which you suppose it is. And it brings clarity. You were sure in your relationship.
The two of you met each other when you were literally at your worst, you’d seen the ugly sides of each other and made way past it. And now the two of you were working on repairing the Fire Nation, restoring the damage inflicted upon the other nations to the best of your ability. 
“When we’re married,” Zuko says as the two of you walk out of the carriage that had taken you to Iroh’s tea shop. “What will your title be?” Pursing your lips, you admit you haven’t given it much thought before now. 
   “Consort (Y/n)?” You toss up. 
    “That’s demeaning,” He shakes his head. “You’re much more. Chief (Y/n) of the Fire Nation?” 
“Wordy, but I like it.” 
Entering the tea shop, you see your parents and Iroh sitting at a table, talking and sipping their teas. They seem to be having fun and you’re glad. But not surprised, Iroh is amazing. In the back, you saw your friends mingling about. 
“(Y/n), Zuko!” Sokka waves wildly when he sees the two of you. 
   “About time,” Toph scoffs. Although everyone knows it’s fake. 
“Sorry we’re late,” You apologize, hugging your parents. “We got caught up…”
“They were smooching.” Sokka tries to whisper to Suki but everyone hears it. 
   “Shut up.” Katara punches his arm. “It’s good to see you two again,” She smiles at you. 
“You’ve grown,” You huff, hugging her. “I’ve seen so much red I forgot what blue was!” The two of you laugh as Zuko walks up behind you, settling his hands around you. He’s been touchy ever since the two of you set a date for the engagement. 
    “That fortune-teller did say she saw a lot of red in your future,” Zuko muses, his head leaning towards yours as he presses a loud kiss to your cheek. 
   “Hopefully we can get more blue,” You laugh, pushing his head away just enough that his hair isn’t tickling your neck. 
“Should we get started?” Your father asks and Zuko immediately removes himself from you. He’s still a little nervous around your parents. 
“Yes!” You nod and take your seat at one end of the table. Zuko takes the other and your friends fill the seats on either side of your parents and Iroh. 
Settled on your knees, you watch as your parents place down a blue wooden box in the middle of the table and then Iroh places a red metal box. The red box is a long rectangle with a lot of small details but the blue box is a little more simple, carved to mimic ice sculptures back home. 
“I am Prince (Y/n), of the Northern Water Tribe. Son of Chief Arnook and Kayuula.” You speak, staring at Zuko. 
   “I am Fire Lord Zuko, son of Ursa and Ozai.” Zuko says, staring back at you. 
“Do you both agree to this engagement?” Iroh asks. 
   “Yes.” The two of you nod. 
“Is this engagement true?” Your father asks.
   “Yes.”
“Do you both love each other?” Your mother asks. 
  “Yes.” Zuko smiles without a hint of embarrassment. 
“May the spirits bless your engagement,” Everyone speaks and you’re sure they practiced that because even Sokka got it right. 
“Exchange your gifts,” Your mother says and you stand up, grabbing the box before bowing away from the table. Zuko follows suit and everyone turns to watch as the two of you stand in front of each other. 
“Do you want to go first?” He asks, messing with the red box. The rule for a traditional engagement was that the male gifts the woman something to signify their engagement but… yeah. 
   “Sure,” Fumbling with the blue box, you turn it away from you and open it. 
Inside the box was a light blue gemstone with a dark blue ribbon going through it. The gemstone was carved to look like a flame in the same design as the water symbol. You’d spent three months trying to get it right, which was difficult considering you were hardly ever away from Zuko. 
Nervously, you look between the necklace and Zuko. 
“It’s beautiful,” He smiles and takes the necklace with one hand. Holding the red box for him, he holds the necklace up to his throat before he locks the clasp together. There was something about Zuko wearing something from your tribe that made your heart skip a beat, the way he wore it did much more. You were nearly sure you’d pass out. 
Taking his box back, you watch as he opens the red box, revealing a silver version of his royal crown. But instead of flames, there was a crescent moon. 
“I’m not crowned yet,” You remind him as you grab it. 
   “It’s the consort crown.” He shakes his head. “The chief crown will be more elaborate, I promise.” With a look of approval, he walks behind you and undoes your hair. It falls from the ribbon and settles at the base of your neck. Carefully, his fingers scoop your hair up, combining it with his other hand until he’s gathered it into a top knot. His hand juts out from your left and you hand him the crown. It slips into your hair and he secures it with your ribbon before checking over his work. 
“I’m gonna cry,” Sokka admits as he blows his nose into Katara’s shoulder. She gags and bends the snot off of her and onto his shirt without much fuss. 
Taking your seat at the head of the table, Zuko takes his seat next to you and the two of you overlook the guests. 
“You two look amazing!” Aang is the first to say something. 
“Time to plan the wedding!” Iroh cheers and you smile down at your lap. 
“A wedding,” Zuko whispers in your ear, pressing a small kiss to the shell of it. 
    “It’s gonna be blue,” You whisper back. 
“And then grandkids!” Your mother claps her hands. 
Later that night, as you’re watching Zuko and Iroh talk over a cup of tea, Katara walks up to you. 
“I told you,” She softly says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “He would never leave you.” Zuko looks over at you and smiles before nodding at Iroh. 
“I still meant the group,” You grin and she rolls her eyes.
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beautifulsenpai · 3 days
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..question. what if bakugo had a crush on a short beefy mechanic with a happy trail..? this definitely hasn't been plaguing my mind since last night.
hmm…bakugo would have a crush on the short hunky mechanic that was located near u.a! i dont know how they became friends, but it just…happen! ^^ he would visit you every time after school, bragging about himself, and he would swell up with pride when he see your eyes shine with admiration.
he would stay put in the mechanic shop with you, he argues with you that he’s not doing it because you’re both friend, he just wanted too! he would watch you fix cars without your shirt, making your body glisten with sweat. watching you flex your body when fixing cars would turn bakugo on, and he would embarrassingly hide his bulge from his pants.
one of his favorites times when you’re fixing a car when you would go under the car, you would be on your back with your head, and arms were hidden by the car while your body was on full display. bakugo would sit on top of a counter while he watched you work, well more like your body.
the sweat glistening your chest, and the dirt marking your skin makes it even hotter. oh, how badly bakugo just wanted to grab your pecs, play with them, twist and bite your nipples. when he gets back home, and rest, he would have wet dreams of you, fucking you and marking your chest with his cum!
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zyonsay · 2 days
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Js came back from a mental health break to see ZYON REQS OPEN !!! How about a Loscar x male reader smut? I don't know if you write for Logan Sargeant since you don't have him in your list so— 😭 if not you can change the driver to Lando I don't mind, but the three of them are drunk and playing drunk truth or dare and things take a turn - 🔥
I dare you LN4&OP81
Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!
Summary: A game of truth or dare between you, Lando and Oscar takes a turn...
Reader: Male
Warnings: Suggestive, NSFW, Dude-bro language, Horsegirl-ified reader because i said so
Now playing: 'Runway Walk' by Demrick
AN: Hey there! i FINALLY finished this and icl, not my best work. BUT i hope y'all can still enjoy this!
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Loud chants echoed through the dimly lit bar. Your team members had picked you up and were now parading you around. The bar only had limited access to your equipe of elite show riders, a few close associates along with other familiar faces. Apparently, it was your lucky day, because your best friend finally had time to celebrate one of your many wins with you. Lando and yourself had been friends since diaper times and stuck together ever since. Even though you both were inseparable, your careers were demanding and didn’t offer you much time to hang out. He was now a rising F1 star, and you fought your way into prestigious show arenas, your schedules were now filled with training, media appointments and various other events. But, whenever you did find time to catch up, you always had a good time together. Not so recently he had introduced you to his teammate, and “friend”, Oscar. He’s a sweet guy, his smile felt like a little piece of sunshine and the swoop in his hair reminded you of gentle waves in the ocean. The chemistry between Lando and Oscar was kind of obvious, but you didn’t want to assume anything. That was until Lando had drunkenly admitted to his situationship.
The loud music boomed trough the doors as you stumbled out into the cold night air. Coordinating your wobbly legs while giggling uncontrollably was difficult. Very difficult. Lando had noticed your struggles and wrapped an arm around your waist while dragging you to the nearest bench. Maybe if you were sat, you wouldn’t fall on your face. A soft breeze blew trough the city and a slight shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t actually cold, just refreshing enough. Lando had also sat down by now and leaned his head back while closing his eyes. Your gaze flickered to him, the street lanterns painted the contours of his face in orange hues. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the poetic mood you’ve found yourself in, but now felt like the right time to tell him how you feel. You’ve always loved him, but you were also scared of telling him, or anyone for that matter. Besides. You two had very busy lives and barely got to see each other, so how would a relationship work out? But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Not when he was looking so beautiful. How do you say this? How do you confess your feelings without sounding like an absolute idiot. Gathering all your courage, your lips parted, and the first word was ready to leave them. “Y/n. I gotta tell you something.”, his eyes were still closed, and his head was still leant back. A frustrated sigh fell from his figure, and he shifted his seat. Now he was looking at you, God, those beautiful eyes. They were so sincere and looked like a fresh margarita at the beach. “I- “, his gaze avoided your own for a second before his eyes darted up to yours again. “I think I might be into men. Like in a gay way.” That was the most bro-dude way to say that, but it sure suits him. A small smile crept onto your face. “Thanks for trusting me.”, you grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Coming out to anyone is difficult, especially when you can’t predict how they’ll react. This was worth a lot to you.
“…and I sort of have a thing going right now,” Shit. SHIT. What? If it is some random dude, you swore to yourself that- “with Oscar.” Your brain must’ve short circuited right then and there. Your expression must’ve given your shock away, because Lando looked really worried all of a sudden. “…you okay mate?”, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. Quickly, you need to react, otherwise he’ll think you’re a weirdo. “Yeah, totally.”, you gulped, “I just didn’t expect you to start something with your teammate.” Absently, he scratched his arm. “Yeah, i gotta be careful. You know, with PR and stuff.”
Obviously, Oscar is also attending the afterparty. As much as you wanted to dislike him for getting together with your crush, he was so nice that you’d feel like an asshole. As sour as the taste in your mouth was, you were happy for them. They seem to fit together really well, and you couldn’t be mad because your best friend’s relationship is working out, that’s just rude. Nevertheless, the little touches they shared filled you with jealousy. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Just so you know, I have your favorite white with me. In case you wanna celebrate some more later.”, you could basically hear the smug smile in Lando’s voice. Tempting. Maybe you weren’t feeling so sour after all.
Without much care, you left your shoes somewhere in the hallway, while leading Oscar and Lando towards the balcony. Usually when you were travelling around for competitons, you’d rent a hotel room, since there wasn’t really any point in staying longer than you had to. But for the finale of your season, you wanted to enjoy the beautiful city, before departing again. While your Horse was being flown back to your home country, you decided to rent a holiday home. It was relatively close to the coast, so you’d hear the lively waves when opening the windows. Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of shuffling cards. More specifically, a deck of UNO cards. Wait what. Why was he shuffling an UNO deck? Where did he even get that from?
“Nah dude, put that back down.” Lando slurred while lazily swatting Oscars hands away. Disgruntled, but indifferent enough, Oscar put the deck of cards back down. “Wild idea: lets revert back to seventh grade and play truth or dare.”, Lando’s face lit up at that. In his mind, he was already going trough all the evil dares he could make you guys do. “We’re literal adults.”, Oscar deadpanned. For a moment, it looked like Lando was thinking about something. “Well, let’s make things more interesting. Every time you pick truth or won’t do the dare, you take off one clothing piece.” He held up one finger, so it was clear that you wouldn’t be stripping completely naked in seconds. That’s an awfully odd request, but with the taste of wine still lingering on your tongue, you could care less. And so, it begun.
“Y/n, truth or dare?”, his intentions were pretty clear, but you wanted to toy with him for a little. “Dare.”, you took another sip of the fourth or fifth Bottle of white wine, that you three have been passing around like biscuits. “An easy one to start with, do a handstand.” Hah, that was a piece of cake. Scrambling off the rattan lounge, you readied yourself to do a handstand against the wall. A free-standing one might be a bit too confident in your current state. With a swift motion you hurled your legs into the air and banged them against the wall, while you did your best to not flop onto the floor. Considering how dizzy you were, you did a good job. “Impressive!”, Oscar giggled. There was nothing to laugh about, the bastard was up next. “Truth or Dare, Os?”, he was quick to answer. “Dare.” Bingo. As rarely as you and Lando got to catch up, he does talk about Oscar often. This man doesn’t even know hoe much you know about him. “I dare you to whistle.”, his smile faded. He was ninety percent sure you were aware of the elephant in the room. He sighed before pulling his shirt off. “I can’t whistle.”
Admittedly, this was much more fun than you initially thought it’d be. It must’ve already been something past midnight, but you guys were chatting away on the balcony. By now, your and Oscar’s shirts and socks had gone, while Lando was barely left in his briefs. “Truth or Dare?”, Lando intently looked at you. “Dare.” Now you’ve gotten yourself stuck in his trap. “I dare you to kiss me.”, now that made you stop in your tracks. “Dude, I’m not a homewrecker.” Oscar’s hickory eyes had a playful glint in them. “I’ll allow it.”, he leant against the backing of the lounge, readjusting his seat. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest. This is what you wanted for so long, but this feels taboo. Nevertheless, you leant forward and slid a hand behind your friend’s neck. Pulling him closer your lips met his and a contempt sigh left Lando. You felt Oscars eyes on you, they were burning holes into your skull. After all you were kissing his fling right now. The world seemed as if it was melting apart into a big mess of colors, but that all stopped when Lando gently pulled away. With slightly shaky hands, you settled back into a comfortable sitting position. “Oscar.”, he hummed, “Truth or dare?” He exaggeratedly tapped his finger against his chin. “Truth.” He now looked directly into your eyes. “Why didn’t you have a problem with me kissing Lando.”, his eyes widened at your question. For a moment he seemed to think for a good answer, but instead of speaking up, he glanced over at Lando. The brit loudly gulped, it sounded almost comical, before speaking up. “So, the thing is…” His, whatever Oscar was to him, tapped him on the knee, encouraging Lando to speak up. “I like you. Like in a gay way.” Dumbfounded, you shifted your gaze from Oscar to Lando and then back again at the pale Aussie. “And you’re ok with that?!”, you pointed your finger towards Oscar. “You see, we actually wanted you to... join our relationship.” His tone was unsure, and he kept searching Lando’s gaze.
Now you were officially flabbergasted. This must be a fever dream, right? There was no way this was real right now.
Obviously, it was, because now you were sat here with Lando kissing down your neck and Oscar pressed up behind you, squeezing your thighs, hips and waist. You leant your head backwards against Oscar’s shoulder, whining quietly. You whispered sharply, “I dare you to take those damn pants off.”, while fiddling with the buckle of his belt. Oscar chuckled lightly before slipping his pants off and propping himself up behind you again. Carefully, you reached behind you and felt his hard member in your hand. With gentle motions, you began palming him as best as possible. Lando smiled against your neck, his eyes darting up to meet Oscar’s gaze. His tanned hand tugged on your underwear before swiftly slipping underneath it. You gasped at the tight feeling of his hand around your dick. Slowly but surely, he started pumping up and down, meanwhile he continued his artwork of hickeys along your neck and chest bone. Not wanting to neglect his hard cock, you wrapped your hand around it and pressed your thumb over the tip. He exhaled sharply. Oscar leaned in close to your ear. “You wanna suck them?” Stuck in an endless loop of pleasure and torture, you could only whine as a pathetic attempt at an answer.
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