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#and the thing is they are this crazy all while loving each other.
andersonlore · 1 day
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Abbys reaction to you telling her how hot she is while making out: "you're so hot I can't stand it it drives me crazy." - maybe the first time or one of the first times
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all my love is free | abby anderson
tags: eighteen+, lesbians obsessed with each other, had to post during lesbian visibilty week like c'mon???, just a big bag of fluff packaged with light steam, abby being a nervous goofball, sfw with suggestive themes.
an. sorry i kind of disappeared with posts. new collab is taking over my brain. but wanted to at least post something. can't wait for y'all to get a taste. until then, i'll be finishing the requests in my inbox (hopefully). with all the love, ray.
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the end of your first date with abby marks a colossal milestone, especially for the two of you. the moment almost seemed monumental. taking one year of abby’s pining, six months of flirting and six months of tiptoeing while you were with someone else. respectfully, waiting until a month after the breakup, she asks you out.
unimaginable expectations abby had before going into tonight, but all she had to offer it seems was her nerves. god, she was acting like a dumb, mumbling, dork tonight. saying the first thought coming to mind, but it makes you laugh. when abby nearly eats it on the sidewalk, tripping over a crack of grout in the cement. your soft angelic voice taking her out for a moment, the only thing centering her from having a meltdown. 
“baby, are you alright? be careful, honey.” there it is, angelic. “wouldn’t want you to fall.” the first pet names hurled her way by you, making her heartbeat faster than she could keep up with. you cut her off at her knees, ensuring you are the only person she could ever want.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
it’s pretty obvious who was in control the entire night. if the two of you are friends, this night has a year of expectations, hopes, goals to meet and abby felt like she was failing. deeply.
as she walks you up to the front door, she knows the only thing she accomplished was letting you down. nothing went the way she thought it was going to. everything felt off. worst of all, your silence snuffs her out, completely.
you grab her hands, pulling her up the stairs with you. the collar feels too hot, tense, off. delicate fingers playing with the collar before you unclasp the buttons, keeping down before you move to her chest, placing your hand on abby’s inconsistent heartbeat.
“can i? s’tense, need you to loosen up for me. alright?” abby nods, accepting you can read her like the back of your hand. she just doesn’t want you to stop touching her. “get out of this head of yours. s’just me and you, no one else.” your nimble fingers pop the first three buttons, revealing her freckled chest, dipping into her sternum, giving you a delicious preview. she takes a deep breath, and you believe it’s the first one she’s allowed herself since she showed up with a bouquet of flowers in hand. 
“‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to ruin tonight. i just— it’s you. y’know? i’ve never wanted someone like this. been friends for ages and this is just everything. you are everything. i’ll never live with myself if i let you slip through my fingers.” her heartbeat calms under your touch the longer abby speaks, bringing a warmness to your own. “don’t worry about all of it. you’re not going to. i won’t let you.” 
“okay.” abby says as she gets lost in the light in your eyes. the fire visible behind yours. the way she’s looking at you? fuck. unimaginable desire — all for you. it almost seems too good to be true. like you don’t deserve it. waiting for the pin to drop, all the misery drowning you with it. “did you have a good time tonight?” 
“yes baby, i did.” you smirk as she inches forward, closing you into your front door. back pressed against it, her small breasts pressed to your chest, her free hand extended, next to your head as it lays flat on the door.
“s’good. wouldn’t want to kiss you if the date was bad.” all the confidence is back. the abby who flirted with you shamelessly for months on end. knowing you’re happy is enough for her. it’s all she needs to know to let the loser in her fall to ashes. but you taking the reins for a moment, does something so visceral inside her. she nearly doesn’t know how to act until her instincts kick in. 
she’ll satisfy you — just in the way she knows how. 
“what are y—” abby pressed her body weight into you, strong hips pinning you against the door using one of her hands to pin both of yours above your head. you’re whimpering, signaling your shock but the whine omitting from your lips tells abby your pussy is shocked. soaked.
“doing what i should have done months ago.” her pink plump lips meet yours, taking complete control over you. but you welcome it with open arms. she grunts in your mouth causing you to gasp as abby’s tongue enters your mouth. massaging it with yours in a swift battle for dominance. 
it’s too much but also not enough. you’re grinding against her, your crotch kissing hers as you lift a leg, wrapping it around her waist. she continues kissing you like her entire life depends on it. not letting you feel anything but her. she’ll be your everything and you’re not leaving until you understand it just as much as her. “abs—” you mumble in her mouth, abby relinquishes the tight grip on her hands.
immediately your hands are woven in her hair. tugging at the golden hair, as you try to pull her closer to you, if it was even possible. but the two of you have to come up for air, abby the first one to break as she chuckles at both of your heaving chests. 
“fuck, you’re so hot, baby. can’t stand it.” you peck her lips softly. admiring how puffy and swollen they look from her ministrations. god, you want her to devour you once again. “‘m, drives me crazy.” you admit, taking in the intoxicating smirk on her face. you’re not made into a fumbling mess easily. the both of you know it. that’s how abby knows it in her bones, she has you. fuck, she can’t ever imagine letting go. 
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itneverendshere · 2 days
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my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue
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just a lil something, completely self indulgent and inspired by miranda and steven in s2 of sex & the city 😔🥺
warnings: angst😤; a little fluffy; soft!rafe because i personally LOVE him
you did it without thinking.
it felt as if your body had a mind of its own and while your brain yelled at you to stay put and act normal, your heart simply didn’t allow it. your feet pounded against the street pavement, each step echoing the racing of your heart. you didn’t dare to look back, afraid that if you did, you’d crumble under the weight of your memories with him rushing back. the sound of your breath filled your ears, drowning out the chaos of the main street.
rafe.
the name echoed in your mind like some sort of haunted melody. you didn’t expect to see him, not after so many months without a single glimpse of his perfect face. you’d broken up months ago, you were supposed to be over him. and yet, despite all your attempts, his presence still stirred something within you. 
this wasn’t how it was supposed to work out.
you rounded the corner, trying to convince yourself that it was fine. so what if he was back in town? so what if he didn’t call you? so what if you two promised to stay friends and yet…it’s none of your business. you should be thankful.  
but seeing him out of the blue, it was like a sucker punch to the gut, except it felt like it came from a hundred directions at once. maybe you just needed a minute to process all of it. maybe a venti latte and some retail therapy would do the trick.
except they didn’t and hours later, here you are, stuck to your couch wondering how the hell you are supposed to step foot outside knowing there’s a possibility you might run into him again. 
your brain always goes into overdrive when you think of rafe cameron. and now you’re stuck here, overthinking every little thing. should you text him? would that be too desperate? but what if he's thinking the same thing?
and if he isn’t?
there's a sudden knock on your apartment door, the sound cuts through the haze of your mind, jolting you back to reality. you reluctantly peel yourself off the couch and shuffle over to the door, wondering if that amazon package you ordered this morning is here already. 
you glance towards the peephole, debating whether to check who it is or simply ignore it. after a moment of internal deliberation, curiosity wins out, and you approach the door cautiously.
you peer through the peephole, half expecting to see a stranger or maybe the mailman with a package. but to your surprise—it's rafe.
holy fuck.
your breath catches in your throat as you take in his familiar face from up close, a jumble of emotions stirring inside you.
what's he doing here? how did he get your new address? you moved from your parent’s home just a month ago. 
for a beat, you’re frozen. no one taught you how to proceed in these kinds of situations, but you are fairly certain letting an ex-boyfriend, the one you’re still in love with, inside your personal space is a big no-no.  
should you open the door? pretend you’re not home? smash your head against a wall and pray it knocks you out instantly? before you can even begin to form a plan, there's another knock, this time a little more insistent, as if he knows you’re on the other side.
“i can hear you breathing.”
panic sets in. 
summoning whatever fake bravery you have left, you take a deep breath and reluctantly twist the doorknob. with your hands trembling like crazy, you swing the door open, revealing rafe standing there. 
you gulp, feeling like your throat's suddenly decided to go on strike “yeah-uh. hi!”
his hands are clutched behind his back and his eyes take turns between your face and the door. there's a slight furrow in his brow, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the curve of his nice cheekbones. 
“that was a shitty thing you did. running away from me on the street.”
you feel a crazy amount of guilt wash over you. he’s not wrong. running away like that was cowardly, but did he expect you to run into him with open arms?
“i didn’t run?”
his lips, usually set in a determined line, now quiver ever so slightly, “you ran.”
the weight of what you did hangs over you like a dark cloud. could you have acted any more immaturely?
“well, i wasn’t expecting to see you-“ you manage to blurt out, your voice shaky, “and-and, i-“
“it really hurt my feelings.” rafe's finger points accusingly at his chest, and you feel like you’re about to shrink into the floor under the weight of his disappointment.
you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. you can feel your eyes starting to sting with unshed tears and you use every remaining strength inside you not to cry in front of him. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough. 
“i don’t deal very well with ex-boyfriends?”
his expression softens slightly, and he leans his weight against the doorframe, his eyes searching yours.
“hey, sweetheart, this is me.”  his hand moves again and he gently places it on his chest, right over his heart, as if trying to convey the sincerity of his words “rafe.”
but he’s not your rafe anymore.
that’s the one thing you want to tell him. you chew on your lower lip wondering if honesty would do you any good right now. if it would erase all these months, weeks, days, hours, without him. 
a moment of silence stretches between you, and then, after what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to utter a response.
"yeah..."
rafe's gaze remains fixed on you, “i held you while you were sleeping.”
if you weren’t crying before, you are now. it's like a dam has burst inside you. tears stream down your face like a leaky faucet, nothing strong enough to hold them back. they're not the dainty tears you see in movies, but big, ugly cries that leave your mascara streaked and your nose running.
you try to speak, but all that comes out are choked sobs and sniffles. it's embarrassing, really, how out of control you feel. but you can't help it even as your front neighbor comes into view. 
you do quick 180 and bolt back into your apartment, hand pressed against your forehead as if holding it will stop the raging headache you’re about to experience. you don’t have to look back to know rafe’s following you, trailing inside and swiftly closing the door with a soft click.
"i’m sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "i’m really sorry. i’m so sorry-“
rafe's hands reach out, his palms open as if he's dealing with a wounded animal. 
"hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle reassurance, "it's okay.”
“i hadn’t seen you in so long,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, “and i missed you and then i did that shit-“
his hand envelops yours, his touch grounding you. "hey, breathe," he urges softly, “it’s okay.”
tears well up in your eyes again, blurring your vision as you struggle to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. "’m sorry," you choke out, voice breaking with each syllable. "i'm so sorry, rafe."
“it wasn’t that shitty, okay?” rafe's expression softens further, the way it does only for you.
“it was! i’m a shitty person.”
his thumb gently brushes away your tears as he shakes his head slowly. "no, you're not.”
“i am! you would’ve never done something that shitty.”
the nagging feeling that you’ve let him down once again is eating you alive.
he raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "what do you call showing up here, in your apartment, in the middle of the afternoon and calling you shitty, huh?" he asks, his tone teasing yet affectionate.
you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, “t’s not the same.” 
rafe reaches out, gently cupping your face in his palm as he brushes his thumb gently across your cheek. “yeah, it is.”
without even questioning it, you lean into his touch, closing your eyes as your allow yourself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. for the first time in months.
“i miss you,” you confess, “whenever something happens, i just want to tell you about it.”
“so, tell me.” the tender smile softens the lines on his face, "’m right here.”
you feel a rush of relief, a weight lifting off your chest as if he's just granted you permission to exhale. and yet, tears still well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and spilling over onto your cheeks in hot.
“i have a date.”
a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, tightening with each syllable. your voice quivers with uncertainty, the words tumbling out like stones from a crumbling cliff. you don’t have to look to know your hands are shaking like leaves in a storm. you’re pretty sure if you held them up, they'd look like one of those ridiculous earthquake simulations. 
rafe nods, doing his best to stop the cheeky grin growing on his face, as he shakes his head understandingly, “looking forward to it, are ya?”
but you only sob harder.
"hey, hey- sweetheart. it's alright.” he says gently, his voice soothing you better than any depressing song on your playlist, “just jokin’ around.”
but you can't shake off the feeling of shame, the burning embarrassment of admitting to something you wish you hadn't. of letting someone take you out, someone who isn’t rafe, your rafe. 
"i just... i thought it would help me move on, y’know?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
"i get it.” he tries to smile at you again, but it looks sad, and it makes your heart hurt. his hand reaches out to brush away a stray tear from your cheek, “i’m not mad.”
but you are. at you. at him.
the words linger in the back of your mind, gnawing at your insides. you want to scream, to lash out at him for being so understanding, for not fighting for you the way you wish he would.
you push his hands away from your face, your voice cracking. that’s all it seems to do since he walked back into your life ten minutes ago.
"that's it?" you exclaim, "you're just okay with it? with me going on a stupid date with someone else?"
it was like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, and he didn't know how to stand back up.
rafe’s jaw is set in a firm clench, "i just want you to be happy.”
“but i'm not happy!" you retort, your voice rising in volume as tears continue to stream down your face. "i'm miserable, rafe! and you're just standing there, doing nothing!”
his chest is rising and falling heavily, as if he’s trying to contain himself.
"i'm doing nothing?” he asks so quietly; you take a double take to make sure it’s still him. his eyes flicker with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. it feels like staring into a wildfire, all fierce and untamed. 
you swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of your words crashing down on you. the way rafe looks at you, it’s like he sees right through you.
"i’m here, aren't i? i’m listening, okay? i'm trying to understand."
but his words only fuel the fire of your frustration.
"i need you to tell me that you still care. that you don't want me to go on that date because you want me for yourself."
you could see the anger draining out of him, leaving behind this raw, broken man. he slumps forward, shoulders drooping. his eyes go from blazing with intensity to just... empty. like he just flicked off a light switch behind them. 
it’s heartbreaking, honestly, to see him just fizzle out into nothing. 
“’course i want you for myself," he whispers, "but i can't force you to choose me. you left me.”
it’s a devastating sight, really. to see someone you love so deeply, someone who’s always been so strong, just fall apart like that. it’s like watching a building crumble to the ground.
and the worst part is, you know you’re the one who caused it. you’re the reason he’s standing there looking so broken, so lost. and you hate yourself for it, hate that you couldn’t be what he needed, hate that you had to go and ruin everything.
“i left because i didn’t feel good enough,” your voice is hoarse from screaming and crying, “not because i stopped loving you.”
for a moment, the silence between you is deafening, stretching on through time. it’s like neither of you knows what to say. 
and then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifts in his expression, he looks as if you have hit him.
“i never wanted you to feel that way,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. “i never wanted you to doubt how much you mean to me.”
his words hang in the air, like they’re carrying the weight of all the things you two never said, all the things you wished you could take back. as if he’s putting it all out there, laying his soul bare for you to see, finally showing you everything he’s been keeping bottled up inside.
“i’m sorry,” he whispers, the words a solemn oath sworn in the quiet of the night. “’m sorry for not being there when you needed me.”
“i’m sorry too,” you choke out. “i’m sorry for pushing you away.”
and then, without another word, without another moment wasted on regrets and what-ifs, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. it’s like coming home after a long time.
and yeah, you might have a shit ton of things and problems to sort through, but rafe cameron is worth that and more. 
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akiizayoi4869 · 2 days
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The Southern Raiders
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Been meaning to make my own post about this episode for a while now, so hear it is. The main thing I hear about this episode is that Aang didn't understand Katara's pain at all but Zuko did. The notion that a genocide survivor doesn't understand another genocide survivor is certainly one hell of a take, and it's very stupid. Are we really going to forget the air nomad genocide?
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Aang lost EVERYTHING because of the war. And to make it worse? He feels guilty because he wasn't there to stop it from happening (even though he wouldn't be able to do much since he hadn't mastered the four elements yet) because he ran away from his duties as the avatar. When Aang finds Monk Gyatso's body in the Southern Air Temple episode, he's overcome with so much grief and anger that he triggers the avatar state:
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Katara herself even compares what she's been through to what Aang was feeling in this moment by saying "I know how hard it is to lose the people you love! I went through the same thing when I lost my mom." Certainly sounds like two people who understand each other perfectly if you ask me. Also, in the Lost Adventures comics, we're shown that the Fire Nation used a dirty tactic to smoke out any other airbenders that might have escaped from the genocide.
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We see how happy Aang was to learn that some airbenders may have survived, only to find out that it was all a lie to capture any remaining survivors. At the end of the comic he looks disappointed and crushed knowing that the possibility that air nomads fell for this trick and were killed as a result.
A lot of people take Katara saying "I knew you wouldn't understand" to Aang as her saying that he doesn't understand her pain, but if you actually look at the context? That's not what she's saying at all. What she means is that she knew that Aang wouldn't understand her need for VENGEANCE. For her desire to kill her mother's killer. Because Aang was taught that revenge isn't the answer. Even though Aang absolutely understands how she felt, something that he says himself:
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In both of those moments he felt extreme anger and hatred, both strong negative feelings that would have caused him to lash out and do something that he would regret later on. Who stops him in both cases? Katara. She calms him down (and can I just say that I think it's really poetic that in this specific episode, Aang's words are what calms Katara down in the end, and is why she decided to spare Yohn Rha?) in his moments of rage, something that he's grateful for.
Another argument that I've seen is that Zuko understands her pain more than Aang because he also lost his mother. While I can see why people make this comparison, those are two entirely different situations. Ursa was banished because she protected Zuko from being killed when he was a child. Which means that she's still alive (as we later find out from those horrible comics). Kya, on the other hand, was KILLED because she protected Katara by saying that she was the waterbender that they were looking for. This happened in a genocidal raid by the Fire Nation. Safe to say that Zuko can never understand what that feels like.
Also, it's pretty crazy to me how people can say that Aang was wrong in this episode, when Zuko HIMSELF says that Aang was actually right, and that what Katara needed in the end was revenge. Aang knows Katara a lot better than Zuko does, and he knows that killing the man who killed her mom would have absolutely destroyed Katara because of the kind of person she is. Just like Aang remembering how he killed all of those Fire Nation soldiers in the North Pole while he was in the avatar state and being controlled by his past lives and the ocean spirit caused him to have nightmares and be terrified of what the avatar state can do. Both of them are alike in that regard. The closest thing I can say that Zuko understands about Katara is her anger. Boy spent 3 seasons being angry so he definitely understands that. But other than that? He doesn't understand her, which is to be expected since he just joined them a few episodes ago, and spent a whole year chasing them and trying to capture Aang. So he's just started getting to really know everyone on a personal level. In conclusion, Aang did indeed understand Katara, and his words were exactly what she needed to hear.
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ackermai07 · 1 day
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hi there !! i hope you're having a great day so far ^^
i wanted to request the three musketeers (katsuki, izuku, shoto) that give prince/ss treatment to reader ! like the reader is just so tooth-rotting sweet that the boys can't help but treat reader that way ฅʕ◍·̀·́◍ʔฅ
you are so free to ignore this if its not up to your taste ^^ thank you in advance !! 💌🍰
girl you're crazy if you think this isn't up to my taste, you literally blessed me with this! Anyways I hope you have fun reading, enjoy!
𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: Todoroki, Bakugou, Midoriya, fem!reader
𝗪𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: headcanon, fluff!
Don't repost!
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The one thing we all agree on.
He'll cook for you.
No one argues with this; he's literally your personal chef.
He'll always make sure you eat well, whether you're a big eater or not.
This damn guy will literally stuff your stomach and cook for you anytime.
You can wake him up even at 2 a.m., and he won't mind, like:
"Hey, Katsu... I'm feeling kinda hungry... so-"
"Shut up, I already know."
And boom, he'll get up to cook a delicious meal for you and make sure you go to sleep feeling full.
He also loves styling your hair, no matter the type.
Straight, wavy, curly, it doesn't matter.
Just tell him how you want your hair, and he'll do it professionally.
He does most of the chores for you, like cooking, washing dishes, doing laundry, etc.
He absolutely hates seeing you tired or exhausted; he sees himself strong enough to do everything.
"You weren't created for exhaustion, not even your beautiful ass deserves to be tired from sitting."
Another reason he always holds you in his arms when you're alone together.
He always brings snacks for you at school.
At the end of each class, he turns around to give you candy or chocolate to keep you energized.
(He completely refuses to admit he brought them for you, always saying he got them by chance.)
When you're sitting in the dorm with others, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder if you're tired.
He absolutely doesn't let you go downstairs; he always carries you bridal style while going down while you're in his arms.
His excuse is that you're too foolish and will definitely trip and fall and hurt yourself.
(He loves you dearly and worries about you like crazy.)
Did I mention he's your guard dog?
Wherever you are, he walks behind you and gives death glares to anyone who dares to stare at you.
He also makes sure every day that he's the first person to say good morning or goodnight to you, whether in person or through messages.
He's not a big person with words, but he makes sure to say "I love you" enough times because he knows it makes you happy.
Believe me, he's just there for your happiness (I would die for this man).
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This boy is the epitome of sweetness.
He's not just a green flag, he's the whole forest.
One thing I'm sure of is that he'll take notes for you during classes.
Even if you've already taken your own notes, he doesn't mind.
He still brings your notebooks and edits your notes to make them look like his own.
If you ask him why he does this, he simply replies:
"Just to ensure our information is the same so we don't have any problems when we study together."
He just loves being the reason behind your intellectual growth and knowing that he's helping you.
Every night, literally every night, he braids your hair.
Because he simply read that braiding hair before bed helps keep it healthy.
(He loves touching your hair and smelling its scent.)
Speaking of nighttime, he takes you for walks at night when everyone else is asleep and lies on the grass to watch the sky just because you told him you love seeing the stars.
He's literally the kind of gentleman who lays his jacket over a puddle of water for you to walk on so you don't get wet.
He has a sixth sense about you, so for example, whenever something bad happens to you, he's already there to fix it.
He's 100% ready to defend you against anyone and doesn't feel embarrassed to stand up to them either.
He carries your bag for you on the way to school and back to the dorm, insisting on it even when you say it's okay.
He loves sharing his food with you; he always does.
No matter what it is, he always makes sure you take at least a bite of it.
"I don't taste the food's flavor until I share it with you."
He always keeps your hands intertwined and makes sure you're close to him, especially in crowds.
Every day, he makes sure to kiss you on the cheek and tell you how perfect you are, how lucky he is to have you, and how much he loves you.
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This guy is literally like a character from books.
He has a top-notch degree in princess treatment.
He buys you anything you want, no matter what.
Even if it's a car plated with gold, he'll always fulfill your desires.
He flirts with you, but in poetic ways.
For example, he reads a love quote or a poem and makes sure to dedicate it to you.
Either he writes it for you on a paper and places it on your desk in your room before you wake up, or he whispers it in your ear just to drive you crazy.
He loves seeing you shy and flustered.
He also buys you books, a lot of them.
The reason for that is your talk about a story or a novel.
Be sure that by tomorrow he'll present you with the entire book series along with a red rose.
"Shoto! You didn't have to do that!"
"If my girl desires something, she gets it."
(Help me... I'm melting while writing this)
He lets you do anything to him literally.
Braiding his hair, putting makeup on him, dressing him up as you wish... etc.
Just say the word, and he's like, "Yes, ma'am"
(Once you put your daily makeup on him, and literally you cried because he looked more beautiful than you by miles.)
This man is literally carrying your bags when he takes you shopping.
And he doesn't complain; it gives him a sense that he's your strong man.
He also allows you to try makeup on the back of his hand.
(He's as pale as hell.)
He carries you on his back if you feel tired from walking.
Or in other words, if he feels it, which means he always carries you on his back.
So you won't tire from something as silly as walking.
He knows that everyone is looking at both of you, but does he care? Of course not.
(I feel like he's read "The Art of Indifference" at least 100 times.)
He's the kind of guy who allows you to wear anything you want.
You might come to him not sure about your clothes, and he simply shrugs in indifference.
"Wear whatever you want; I can fight."
(But not too revealing because you won't get away with it.)
One of his greatest features is that he uses his quirk to either warm you up or cool you down according to the weather.
He always gives you his jacket even without you asking because he knows that his scent calms you down and also ensures that you're warm.
Like the others, he makes sure you eat well and goes crazy if he knows you haven't.
(I think this is an Asian thing...)
This might seem gross, but on the contrary, it's not the case for him, but he allows you to spit out the food you didn't like on his hand.
He tells you to do it in the most poetic expression ever.
He hugs you a lot, first because he loves being close to you and secondly to stick his scent to you, so people can smell you and know that you're his
(he has a special scent so..)
(I've written a lot for him, I know, and I'm sorry, but I love him so much that I couldn't stop!!)
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I hope you had fun reading! Please feel free to request more whenever you like!
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.
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nrdmssgs · 2 days
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Constellation
Masterlist Fluff mostly Pairing: PriceXReaderXNikolai Summary: Cuddles and make out session. AN: My periods wrote this.
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“It's alright.” Johns fingers graze lightly down your shoulder.
“We are fine. We are here, together. You are safe, little star.” Nik's warm breath tickles the back of your neck.
But you can't stop the tears. A wet spot on Price's pillow grows wider under your cheek. John cups your face and guides you to look up at him. His gaze meets your tired red eyes and he sighs ruefully. John brings you closer in kisses your forehead, glancing at Nikolai.
There are many things in your decade long friendship that could have made others uncomfortable in your place. Others, but not you, John and Nikolai. You wouldn't let anything ruin the most treasured thing you have - this friendship. So forehead kisses are fine, ‘this reminds me of you’ photos of beautiful things are fine, dancing in the kitchen while you three are cooking is fine. Letters, that you receive from them from all over the world, ‘just because’ flowers, surprise hugs from behind - it's all fine. These things won't ever hurt your friendship. 
Even falling for both of them slowly and inevitably won't do so. As long as you keep it to yourself. Which is not the easiest thing to hide, when you find out, John came back from a deployment injured.
A friend might have made sure, Price is actually doing fine and just needs a few days of bed rest, and visited him with a care package. A girl, who was desperately in love, came to him as soon as her working day was over and cried ugly, curled up next to him. You started calming down only when Nikolai came, climbed on his friend's bed and scooped you in a tight hug.
And so you three are lying: Nik's arms around your waist, your face in Price's hands. Time to time, one of them half whispers something soft to you. And with each ‘we are fine’, ‘you are safe’, ‘It's going to be alright’ you return to normal little by little. 
It's their voices working their magic on you. Husky, low, rich and warm tones. If only these men knew, what can they do to you just with a short whisper. Sure they calm you down now, but they can drive you crazy as well, lead your mind to the places, you're too ashamed to acknowledge.
John wipes away your tears with his wide warm thumbs, Nikolai hums a melody over your ear. You remember it vaguely. Something in Russian. Something about a star, that he begs to shine on no matter what. It's not a lullaby, but always brings you peace and he remembers it.
They distract you: telling you little silly stories about their deployments, arguing, jokingly grumbling at each other. You even start laughing. Then Nikolai brings tea for you and meds for John. Price immediately puts on his most suffering and dissatisfied expression, and you with Nik barely hold back the laughter.
You try a good dozen of ways to convince Price to behave like a grown up and just swallow all his pills finally. Everything from plain flattery to threats is thrown at the grumpy man. And then you resort to bargaining.
“Eat your meds now, and I will kiss you.” You laugh. Nikolai chuckles. 
But John looks serious.
He scoops all the remaining meds and throws them into his mouth, topping it up with the remaining water. All not breaking an eye contact with you. 
“Done.” After one Price's word, the room falls silent. 
It's only then, when your own word sink in. You promised him what once again? Unable to bear his gaze, you hide your eyes, looking down his wide neck, to the concave, the point, where the outlines of his muscular chest begin to show. 
This neck is made for grabbing onto it in search for a stabilizing point, while this man is…
Your face is burning. It's hot, suffocating hot in here. Not just because the man, you've been dreaming to kiss, waits for your touch, but also because the other man, you've been dreaming to kiss is burning your back with his gaze. 
John doesn't move closer, since the distance between you two is already almost non-existent. He would never force you. But he doesn't move away either. 
And your wildest hopes and dreams are screaming, that's because he wants this. But you would rather die than do anything stupid and lose Johns and Nikolai's friendship.
You stretch your arm and touch his cheek, moving to his eye level. It's not that easy, giving the fact, that you have to balance on a pile of soft bed covers between two men, pushing the mattress down to both sides around you just with their weight. 
You frantically plan how to turn this all into a joke, when you feel it. Very soft, but absolutely intentional. A push right between your shoulder blades. You lose your balance and fall forward.
The world around you cuts out, when your lips meet. First you feel his warmth engulfing and penetrating you at the same time. Then you hear him breathing you in. You don't move - it is enough for you just lay like this next to him, lips pressed to his as he takes another deep breath in, steadying himself. 
You drown in a mix of scents: Johns aftershave, a hint of Niks cologne, cigar smoke and a light musk, almost disappearing, but still daring, seducing. It takes you some time to force yourself to move back. Not far - just a few centimeters, so that when John speaks again - his hot breath rolls down your lips.
“Wait.” John's hands gather your small frame and bring you back.
The second kiss is so much more. There is a lot of holding back, but behind it all you feel a need, a borderline desperation in every motion. Every time his lips catch yours in another intoxicating touch - you feel a promise.
A promise of so much more to come, if you just let him closer, if you trust him enough. But when his tongue leaves a short warm wet trail between your lips - you forget even about the promises, his body gives you. John Price doesn't taste like a black tea, smoke and meds - he tastes like the end of you. And such a beverage is better savored in little sips, so it doesn't go out in a second.
You make an incredible effort to stifle the groan that is tearing out. Your breathing is labored, your cheeks are burning with heat. But all that matters right now: John's lips on yours, his hands pulling you closer by your waist... and another hand gently brushing the hair off your shoulder, exposing the back of your neck.
This feeling paralyzes you, like a lightning, rolling down your spine, echoing in every single nerve. Nikolai. The one to turn you into an absolute mess with just one touch. You are afraid to admit, how good his touch feels, when you're kissing John. It simultaneously soothes and provokes you. John touches your lips once again, and you open your mouth wide enough to let his tongue slip deeper.
This time you both can't hold back your quiet moan and his velvety growl. But your mind slowly comes back to the point, where you can draw a connection between kissing one of your best friends and losing both of your best friends.
You pull away. Panting, you manage to muster only one word. For John, for Nikolai, for yourself.
“I'm sorry.”
“What's wrong, little star?” Nik presses his broad chest against your back, and you immediately feel small and helpless.
“We overstepped?” John lets go of your waist, giving you full freedom of movement.
Did he just say ‘we’?
You look him in the eyes, the most beautiful blue eyes, the universe could ever create, and feel so deeply ashamed, it makes you want to die right here and now. You love John, deeply and dearly, but…
“Talk to me, little star.” 
There it is. The “but”. It's not Nikolai's fault, you love him as madly as John. There must be something wrong with you, because this kiss, you've been dreaming of for so long, still feels incomplete. And it won't feel complete until you feel Niks lips just as you felt Johns.
“I'm sorry, I should have…” You can't even muster a coherent answer as you feel a heavy lump, coming up your throat and stinging your eyes. You can't even explain to them, how deeply fucked are you.
 “No-no-no, what's with the horrified eyes, zvezdochka*?” Nikolai cups your face gently, and you turn fully to him. “No, don't worry. You see, John is already much better. I think, he will take his meds religiously from now on. Don't you, Price?”
“I will.” John's voice is still breathy and gruff.
“I just… Can we forget-”
Nik cuts you off by planting a soft, caring kiss on your forehead. He had this habit of kissing your face innocently for ages, but right now his touch means so much more than ever before.
Forgiveness. Maybe even approval.
He doesn't move away, and you hide in a shadow under his chin.
“Talk to me, little star. What brought you down? What made you cut off such a beautiful kiss?”
You feel Nikolais deep voice reverberating in his chest, you relax under Johns palm, resting on your back. And then you find a courage to speak.
“I didn't want you to feel left out. This must sound disgusting, it's so complicated to tell it in a way, it would sound  normal.”
“Mind if I help you?” You feel his lips forming every syllable as he still presses them against your skin. 
You nod and feel his smile.
His lips travel down your left cheek, leaving a trail of feather kisses. You didn't even think, that this man can be so tender. You close your eyes, letting him take away all your doubts one by one.
There's only his breath hitching with little chuckles between the kisses, the cradle of his palms, bringing you closer, the comfort of his voice, when his lips hover over yours.
“May I kiss you?”
You're too deep in the embrace of his grace to remember, that it's supposed to be wrong. Another nod, a subtle one, but it's enough. Nikolai doesn't just kiss - he tastes, explores your lips, while the easy caress of his fingers is mapping over the places where you’re tense and knotted. Every touch is intoxicating, it lures you even further until you give in and relax completely. Your hand snakes to the back of his head, fingers drown in his dark hair, and Nikolai purrs into your mouth. He's so attentive to your desires, that he parts his lips right away, when he feels the touch of your tongue.
Go on. Try him. Have him the way you wanted for so long.
As you indulge yourself in this lasting kiss, a wave of heat awakes on the back oh your shoulder and runs in every direction of your body. John was so quiet, so soft, that you didn't even notice him, until he tugged the collar of your shirt down and placed a long kiss against your exposed skin.
But when you realize what is happening, your brain refuses to keep functioning. You're trapped between their warm figures dwarfing your body, but you feel free for the first time around them. You catch John's head blindly in a silent plead to not leave you and to your joy, he only closes the gap between you two. You feel lightheaded as their lips leave wet trails on your face, neck and shoulders. 
“A wildly beautiful little star. So gentle, so generous for us.” You practically feel Nikolai's content smile before he nips your skin lightly, drawing a sharp inhale from you.
“I don't want to leave this bed. Ever.” John's husky rumble echoes inside your chest.
Each time you turn your head to either of them and your lips meet yet again - you hear their low hums, growing into nearly moans. They don't mind sharing. Quite the opposite, to be precise: they welcome the idea. But each of them is just so hungry for more of you - their voices give them away. 
“You smell bloody delicious, darling.” Price's beard tingles your jaw, as he speaks.
“You taste delicious,” tops up Nikolai.
As if their lips weren't enough to drive you to the edge - their hands become more demanding with every next little squeeze, every brush of fingertips against the exposed skin. You barely control yourself, trying to hold on to both of them. But they make sure, you're being taken care off carried away from the world in their arms. 
It feels so good - it's almost too much. You can't even remember yourself, when a long moan escapes you. And they both stop. Still holding you gently, still stroking your hair, they both give time and space to find yourself in this very moment. But instead of that, your mind in being swarmed with a million of questions immediately.
Do they hate you now? Think you're insane? Is this the end of your friendship?
“I need to stop.” You freeze in horror, thinking that they will let go of you right there.
But they don't. They still hold you, just don't try to kiss you again.
“I'm sorry, I-”
“Don't be.” John brushes a strand of hair from your forehead.
“Little star is absolutely right to put this on pause, John. We need to take things slow, if we don't want to fuck any of this up.” Nikolai looks from Price back to you and smiles. “Both me and John been waiting for a long time, zvezdochka. Seems like forever. Just for a single touch. For a single minute spent this close.”
You turn to John with eyes full of disbelief. And he speaks to you.
“A last thing, I would want, is to rush into this, and push, and… bloody lose this.” He runs his fingers down your cheekbone and touches the very corner of your shy smile. “So how about we call this a goodnight kiss? You can stay here, I'll go crash on a couch.”
“Or I can drive you home, if you feel like you need time alone to let things settle in, little one,” adds Nik, pressing you against his chest.
You freeze in uncertainty for a moment. And then a question emerges from the deepest layers of your uncertainty.
“Was it a good kiss?”
Price smiles, bringing his face once again closer to yours. 
“The first thing I do tomorrow - I write Nikolai, asking if today wasn't my feverish dream. That's how good it was. Then we will start to figure out, how to ask you for a date. Not a friend date - a real one. I will be eating my meds like a happy idiot, smiling to the memory of you here. And I will count hours to that date, should you say yes. That's how good it was.”
You close your eyes to his lips touching against your cheeks.
Later that evening Nik will drive you home and you will ask him, if hes not disappointed by everything, that happened, or not happened.
“Disappointed?” He will chuckle. “I've had the best nights I have had in… cant remember, how long.”
He will keep things sweet and relatively soft on your threshold: just a few lingering, but not too long kisses.
“Give us just a little time, my star, let us believe in our own luck, realise, that you do indeed want the same thing as we two - and we will take you on the best date, you ever had.”
*zvezdochka - little star
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walpu · 1 day
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Aventurine and Nameless!reader who are two idiots in love, separated by the path the follow and yet still managing to find their way back to each other, I'm thinking quality time and gift gifting is their go to affectionate gestures.
Like, think of the bizarre gizmos they'd give him. Accessories, charms, crazy looking flowers you'd find by crawling around the corners, a damn gem from a space object that went past by, even Ruan Mei's creation were brought once in a while to hangout (they're emotionally intelligent, they can be a talk buddy if he wants to), and best of all... Reader's handmade stuffs + photographs with them in it.
Aventurine would bust his wallet and be a bit extra, still thoughtful about what he's gonna give, but he will not hesitate to spend big credits for you when you meet again. Places ranges from a spot isolated from mamy to an extravagant five star restaurant. Make the most of it while together, besides...
They don't know when will these meetings stop, for them to leave and never came back. His left hand trembles violently at the thought
- 🪽
NOT THE HAND TREMBLING NOT THE HAND TREMBLING
Ohhhh them having unestablished relationship when it's obvious they're in love and kinda together but neither of them is willing to make it official because it will make things too real, and when things are too real it's even scarier to imagine them not meeting again.
Like. Aven is somewhat convinced he'll lose them the moment they're officially together. Something will take them away because surely he's not allowed to be this happy, he's always loses those he holds dear
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 days
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BESTIE. I was just casually thinking about your whole dybmn series and now I’m wondering, as both reader and Spencer become more confident with their spicy dynamics, what kind of lover would Spencer become with her? New k!nks, maybe?, I JUST genuinely think that Spencer is so whipped for her that he would definitely use toys and anything else, not only to experiment but to get to know and find out about all of her secret facets.
I believe she would be his “creation” like he would be so proud to see her development in her confidence in spicy times like smirking all over as she does anything to please him and he’d be like “yeah, I created that” because I’M BITING MY PILLOW RIGHT NOW and gonna dig up a hole after this to hide myself because my thoughts are so hideous. Girlie, what did you do to me? I wasn’t like this. 😩
oh let’s discuss
18+ long ass rambling and things i think about A Lot ……..
in my opinion (which is not the end all be all everyone can perceive them however they’d like) reader and spencer definitely bring out more sexually adventurous sides of each other like they just have a shit ton of chemistry and for a while ithink spencer would just be easing reader into sexuality so nothing that crazy would happen aside from the power dynamics we see pretty much from the start. i think those would definitely get stronger and occasionally more variable. im not usually into sub!spence but i think there would be times he would definitely allow reader to have more control (i don’t ever think he’d be like calling them mommy lmfao) but aside from that i could also see him veering VERY rarely in a slightly harder!dom direction. like he’ll never hurt or seriously degrade you but in p3 reader says something about liking it when he acts like they belong to him and he was really into that. as the relationship progresses i think he would almost start taking more ownership of r’s body in a way, like obviously nothing is ever nonconsensual but he just knows you so well that it’s like… well he knows you better than you know yourself sooo you let him call the shots, but at his core i think spencer is forever oriented to please. he just wants to make you feel good, that’s always gonna be his goal, so he’s always going to listen and even if the power dynamic is weighed in his favor you are actually always the one in control bc he’d do anything for u lol
in terms of kinks…. idk, i never really see spencer as a super kinky guy? like he just knows too much about paraphilia and obviously sexual violence ties into a lot of his job so i sincerely doubt he’d find giving or receiving pain arousing beyond like slapping your ass or you scratching his back or whatever. love is always at the heart of sex for him and that’s going to be the most important part, he’ll never be able to see you just as a body. he’ll always see you as the person he’s in love with and there are things he’s simply not willing to do to the person he loves.
because of his trauma he’s super duper hesitant about bondage BUT i think he wouldn’t be completely opposed to very light restraints on you or him, he’d just have to be in a specific mood. i also never see him as being someone who’s super into toys because he’s such a luddite, he can barely stand having an email i doubt he’s going to have an extensive collection of sex toys. but he would so use your vibrator on you or make you use it on yourself in front of him again if he’s in a very specific mood
oh but YES he DELIGHTS in having defiled and corrupted you. idc idc im not accepting criticism on this. like he spoils you so much that you’re used to getting him whenever you want and so you’re not very subtle about it. if you get all needy in public and start draping yourself all over him and giving him looks and pulling on his sleeve because you want to go home he’ll fuck you in rossi’s bathroom because he wants to encourage your lewd behavior.
obviously he has boundaries tho and he has respect for you and the people around him like he won’t do anything that draws attention and he’ll only ever do things he knows he can get away with without anyone else noticing
later seasons spence also LOVES when you leave marks on him he thinks it’s cute how you mark your territory and he’s not at all embarrassed if there is a hickey above his collar at work. in his mind it’s like. why would he care about other peoples opinions on his sex life when they have nothing to do with it god i think about this all the time
anyway im sorry if this was disappointing😭 idkidk, thank you for asking about my thoughts tho bc i am always down for headcanons
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blooming-violets · 1 day
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The Exhibit
[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!Reader]
Warnings: use of pet names such as Daddy/Princess/Babygirl, BDSM in the form of dom/sub, bondage/spanking/blindfolds/nipple clamps/a bit of masochism, anal play, exhibitionism/voyeurism
WC: 8K
A/N: This was an anon request for window smut off of this prompt list but tumblr said a big no no to (what I'm assuming) was one of the gifs I used for the graphic and hid the post so I had to delete it. I'm reposting it again minus the very bad so naughty terrible gif I used. Porn bots can run free and terrorize the tags with their tits and wide open pussy on display but how dare a smut writer use a tastefully erotic, black and white, gif of a blurry couple making sweet, sweet love against a far away window. So naughty. Such a bad girl.
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The elevator chimed with a pleasant musical melody as the doors slid open to their floor. There were only four rooms in this hallway. Behind each door held a luxury suit overlooking the busy streets of Florence. 
Peter had gone all out for their honeymoon. 
They’d spent the last week in Sardinia, making love on the beaches, drinking wine, making love on sailboats, drinking more wine, making love in their hotel room in the early morning with the windows open to enjoy the breeze…more wine…more sex…
They were struggling to keep their hands off of each other. Even now, as Peter guided her towards their room, his hand was slipped under her vibrantly red sundress and fingering the elastic waist of her cotton underwear. 
They left the beaches of Sardinia to come to Florence specifically to see the art but she wondered if they would ever actually make it out of their room with the way Peter’s hands teased her. She was surprised that he wasn’t sick of her yet. Seven straight days of love making and he was still as rowdy as ever. 
He let her admire the suite, watching her as he leaned against the wall, more interested in eying her legs in that dress than the luxury accommodations he had provided for them. 
“Peter,” she whispered, eyes wide as she took it all in. “This is gorgeous.”
Their beachside Sardina resort had a more airy and cool feel whereas this room screamed of sophistication and class. She knew Peter had been working like crazy leading up to their wedding but she had no idea this was why. 
“Like it?” He asked with an arrogant smirk toying at his lips. “A room fit for a queen.” 
She dropped her bag beside the bed and kicked off her shoes, flopping backwards onto the bed to stare up at the arched ceiling with thick, exposed wooden beams. Even the ceiling was stunning. 
She felt the bed sink as Peter crawled on top of her. 
His white, loose button up had the first few buttons undone so his athletic chest peeked through. She loved the sight of his chest hair being exposed. He looked so relaxed, laid back, and blissful with life. Filled with wine, good food, and love. The perfect blend of medicine for him to simply shine. 
He placed a soft kiss against her lips, humming appreciatively, “You look sleepy, babe. Why don’t you take a nap while I unpack our things. I’ll be quiet as a mouse.” 
A nap sounded wonderful after traveling between hotels. She rolled onto her side. It was warm enough that she didn’t need to snuggle under the covers. Peter ran his hands up her bare leg and slipped under her sundress to take one last squeeze of her ass before she slept. 
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She awoke to light kisses tickling her stomach. Peter was laid over her legs, her dress rolled up under her breasts so he could let his lips roam over her belly.
She stretched, a sleepy smile growing on her face, as she peered down at him. 
“What time is it?” She mumbled through the lingering sleep. 
“Time to wake up and play,” he said. He blew a raspberry on her belly with his mouth, making her laugh. “It’s about 4 in the afternoon. You slept all morning. I missed you too much to let you keep sleeping. Wake up and play with me. I’m bored.” 
He had his shirt completely unbuttoned and was stripped down to his boxers to get more comfortable while he lounged around waiting for her. 
Judging by the state of his hair, he looked like he might have gotten in an hour or so of sleep, too.
“Alright, alright,” she giggled. “I’m up. Let me go freshen up and then we can go explore the city.”
Peter pulled her up to her feet and gave her a quick spank as she walked off into the bathroom. That man always needed to have a hand on her ass in some way. 
By the time she came back out, she was surprised to see that he had yet to get dressed and had actually lost an item of clothing.
His shirt was now thrown onto the bed, cast aside without a care.  
“Underwear is a bold choice to go walking around Italy in but I admire your confidence,” she said with a teasing smile.  
Peter didn’t smile back. He had a look in eyes. A look that she knew very well. 
It wasn’t the “making love” look. 
It wasn’t the “quickie” look. 
It was dark, ravenous, and screaming of dominance. 
He had yet to give her that look on their honeymoon. So far, he'd been more playful and loving. This evening, he had other plans. 
They were not leaving this hotel room any time soon. 
A shiver of excitement shook off whatever sleep might have still been clinging to her mind. 
She blinked and he was pouncing on top of her. 
Her back hit the wall but his hand slipped protectively behind her head before it slammed, instead, falling into the cushion of his palm. 
Her breath exhaled from her lips at the force but, before she could catch it, he was attacking her lips with hungry, demanding kisses. His tongue pushed possessively into her mouth at the same time he slid a hand over her breast to fondle her over her dress. 
Taking what was his. 
“‘Can’t stand the sight of you in this dress.”
He moaned into her open mouth. 
“Makes me want to rip it straight off your body.”
He grabbed at her breasts, aggressive and horny, rutting his hips against her. 
“Do you know how hard it was not to fuck you while you slept?”
Her hair was being violently pulled, head crashing against the wall, her mouth falling open into a cry.
“Laying there, all innocent, legs spread open and begging for me to touch them.”
He clawed down her bare legs. Nails dragged against her skin. Feeling like she was getting attacked by a raging bear with the force of power behind each of his movements. 
“Teasing me even in your sleep. A foxy, little minx, aren’t you?”
She shuddered, lowering her voice to a whisper, ready to play along, “I picked this dress just for you. I knew what it would do to you.” 
He grabbed her wrists, slamming them above her head against the wall, and holding them in place. He let out a groan, grinding his stiff cock into her thigh. 
“Daddy knew his babygirl was a little tease.” 
A trickle of wetness soaked into her panties at the use of her favorite pet name for himself. 
What had started out as a joke early in their relationship, quickly became a genuine kink to turn them on. 
With that name on his lips, she could guess what kind of torture was held in store for her. It was going to be a dizzying whirlwind of fast, hard pleasure. 
Peter’s voice lowered to a near growl. 
“Pretty, little thing like you shouldn’t be traipsing around in a dress like that. You don’t know who might snatch you up.”
With both her wrists bound tightly in his one hand, he lifted her off the ground, dragging her up the wall, blatantly showing off his inhuman strength so she knew exactly what he could do to her if he wanted. 
To him, she weighed nothing. This was a man who had stopped moving trucks with his bare hands and thrown cars around like a kid with a ball. 
He let go and she dropped the few inches back to her feet with a surprised yelp. 
“You’re lucky you have me to protect you. Daddy won’t let anything bad happen to his little princess, will he?” 
She was shoved straight back against the wall, getting off on the feeling of being handled so roughly. 
He nipped at her ear lobe, sucking it into mouth the sounds of her tumbling whimpers. 
“Do you like to show off when you wear dresses like this? Do you like having men look at you? Do you like that they imaging fucking you when you walk by?”
“I only want you to fuck me. Only you,” she whined, trying to free her hands from the hold he had on her.
“Of course I’m the only who will ever fuck you, princess.” 
He tugged her hand back down to flash her newly placed wedding ring in front of her face. 
“That right there means that my cock is the only one that will ever split you open again. But that doesn’t mean others can’t look. People have eyes. They can see what I’ve got hanging off my arm.”
He brushed her hair away from her neck so he could lean down to graze his lips along her pulse points, murmuring against her heated skin as he continued to taunt her with his words. 
“How do you expect anyone to keep their thoughts pure when you’re walking around in this?” He pulled at the bottom of her sundress. “You’re putting on a show for them, babygirl.” 
“I didn’t mean to,” she cried. “It's hot out! I wanted to stay cool.”
Strong arms twisted her around so she was facing the wall, cheek shoved against the rough wallpaper. The force knocked the air from her lungs. 
He bent both her arms behind her back and a strong, sticky substance shot out to bind them in place. She knew the feel of those webs well and a smile danced on her lips. 
She loved being bound.
The pressure of being restrained was like a tiny slice of heaven.  
“Daddy doesn’t like it when you show off, princess.”
He flipped up the back of her dress to palm at her rounded cheek, giving it a harsh slap to the sounds of her delicious yelp. 
“Do you look at other men, too, when they’re looking at you? Do you imagine yourself with them?” 
She gasped in horror at the thought, “Of course not! I would never!”
No other man could ever compare to her husband. Not even in the game they were playing. There was always only Peter.  
He hummed like he disapproved of her answer, “Well…just to be certain...I think we need to make sure you can’t let those eyes wander.”
Something smooth slipped over her eyes, leaving her in the darkness, while he tied the blindfold tightly behind her head. 
Leather. 
She smelled leather. 
She couldn’t remember them ever owning a leather blindfold before. It must have been something Peter picked up when they arrived here but she couldn’t recall a time when he left her sight. 
She liked how heavy it felt against her eyelids. There was no way she could peek through this one. 
“There,” he whispered. “Perfect. Blind to my advances. Lost in the dark. Never knowing when or where I will touch.” 
He gripped her hips and spun her back around to face him. 
A wave of dizziness over took her and she swayed on unsteady, bare feet. 
“Careful, babe,” he whispered with a tenderness to his voice, breaking his haughty charade, and reaching out a hand to steady her. “I got you.”
Peter teased a finger under her chin, leaning down, to kiss her again. Soft and gentle, filled with the love and joy only a newly married man on his honeymoon could give. 
A coil of tension spread throughout her stomach as she melted into him. 
Her mouth opened to willingly accept his tongue past her worshiped lips to kiss him with all the passion she could muster with her hands bound behind her. 
Peter’s own hands couldn’t stay still for long before they began to wander. 
He squeezed her breasts through her dress, molding them to his palm, and rutting his hips into her. 
She moaned, long and drawn out, leaning her head back against the wall so he could attach his lips to her neck. He sucked on her pulse points like a vampire draining blood and she wished he had fangs so she could feel the sting of pain as he sank into her flesh. 
And then he was gone. 
She stumbled forward, nearly losing her footing without him to push against. 
Her head whipped around in the dark to try and find him through sound. 
It was useless. 
He was as silent as a spider.
“Look at the sight of you,” he chuckled, his voice dark and deep, dripping with desire. From the sound of his voice, he was across the room near the window. 
“You have no idea what you look like right now, do you? Don’t fret, I’ll describe it for you.
He was moving. Pacing back and forth down the length of the room against the far wall.
“The strap of your dress is halfway down your arm. The nipple of your left tit keeps poking over the fabric, desperate to be sucked upon. Your hair is already a damn mess and I’ve barely touched it. Your mouth keeps parting like it’s just waiting for a cock to fill it up. A horny little thing, aren’t you?” 
“Mmm,” she moaned, only getting more turned by his descriptions. “Peter. Come back. Touch me.”
“That’s not my name, princess,” he shot back.
His voice sounded different now, like he was up on the ceiling. 
“Daddy,” she begged, craning her blind head upwards toward the sound. “Touch me, Daddy.”
He gave a quiet laugh, “Come get me then.”
He was back on the floor. In a different corner by the bed. Jumping around the room. Silent. With only his voice to guide her. 
She took an unsteady step forward, blindfolded with her hands bound behind her. She didn’t know this hotel room very well. He knew that. 
Which was why he kept moving. Teasing her. Making her work for his love. 
She kept inching ahead, little by little. 
“Tick tock, princess. Daddy doesn’t have all day.” 
Behind her. 
She gasped, whirling around, stumbling back the way she came only to find nothing but air. 
With another step, her body bounced against the wall he had pinned her to and she staggered backwards. 
She tried to spin back to the way she started but was getting all turned around. 
He laughed at her pitiful efforts. 
In front of her again.
Near the windows.
Or maybe the beds? 
Was he at the door? 
She was spinning in circles. Getting disoriented. 
This wasn’t a fair game and she was getting frustrated. Her foot stomped angrily against the rug with a grumpy whine to accompany it. 
“Is my poor princess getting dizzy?”
She had half the thought to plop herself onto the floor and stay there until he came to her. 
But she didn’t want to lose the game. 
She was too stubborn to give up. 
“Watch out,” he warned. Still by the window. At least…she thought that was the direction she was facing. “If you move any more, you’ll run straight into the side of a table. Wouldn’t want my baby girl to get hurt.” 
The table. She remembered where that was in the room. 
He was by the windows. He was close. 
Excitement tumbled around in her stomach as she tasted her nearing victory. 
She shuffled to the left, feeling the table at her hip, and kept going towards the last place she heard his voice. 
Blind and bound until she heard his soft breaths directly in front of her, thankful that he hadn’t moved again. 
“Good girl, you made it,” he whispered. A soft kiss was placed on her lips as a prize. “As a special reward, Daddy’s going to take your dress off, okay, baby? He’ll be really gentle even though he wants to rip it to shreds.” 
She felt him snake an arm around her waist to rip through the webs binding her wrists. She immediately went to reach for him but he slapped her hands away. 
“Hands at your side or else I’ll spank you,” he ordered. “I’m taking my time. I’m in Florence. I’m here to admire the art. Don’t rush me.” 
The zipper at her side slowly inched down until it rested at her hip. 
His big, warm hands slipped under her straps, fingers scraping along her shoulder, as he pushed them down her arms. His head fell down to kiss her shoulder, dragging his lips across her heated skin. 
Her breasts held the dress up but the moment he gave a light tug to the bottom, it yielded quickly and pooled around her ankles on the floor. 
His shuddered breath told her that he was enjoying the view. Bare chested, nipples taut, and in nothing but her underwear and blindfold. 
The underwear didn’t last long. 
Peter slid them down straight after the dress until she was completely nude. 
“More beautiful than The Birth of Venus. We should put you in a frame and have tourists come to gaze upon that instead. Maybe I should dangle you from the wall…all tied up with nowhere to go…I’ll start my own museum right here since you love to be such a tease. I’ll put you on display and have everyone see the kind of beauty I married.” 
She was surprised to feel a wave of appreciative tears dampening her lashes. There was genuine love and admiration behind his words. 
Married. They were married. Finally. 
Her husband. 
She loved that she got to call him that now. 
Cool air breezed against her throbbing clitoris, halting the tears, to remind her how horny he had made her before she was chasing him around the room. She was too hot and eager to think about where that breeze was coming from. Drunk on her love for him. She bucked her hips to try and find some kind of friction for her to grind on. 
She squeezed her thighs together, rubbing them back and forth. 
“What’s the matter, baby?” Peter teased. “Need a hand?” 
“Please,” she gasped. 
“Hmm,” he pretended to think about it. 
She wished she could see him. 
She hated that he was so close but she couldn’t see exactly where. 
“I don’t know. With the way you were strutting around in that dress, showing off to the boys, I don’t know if you deserve my touch. Maybe you deserve to be punished instead? What do you think?”
He didn’t wait for any answer. 
Thwip!
Her left wrist was encased in a sticky, impenetrable substance and she jumped in surprise. 
She was yanked forward until she felt the cool breeze against her bare chest. 
The wind was softly blowing. 
She could feel it rustling through her hair and dragging up the goosebumps along her flesh. 
For the first time, she questioned exactly where in the room she was. 
Why did it feel like outside when they were inside?
“Pete?” Her voice wavered. “What are you-”
Her arm was dragged out to her side and lifted high above her head as she gave a yelp of fright. 
“Not my name, princess,” he chastised from up on the ceiling above her. 
Thwip! 
The same treatment was done to her right arm until she was bound, outstretched, and helpless. 
Her fingers wrapped around the thick web, holding onto it for purchase, as her toes just barely scraped along the floor. 
Peter chuckled to himself in amusement at her struggles, the sound coming from the ground behind her.
Always so damn silent. 
“You look like a sexier version of Jesus on the crucifix. I want to drive nails through those dainty little hands of yours and listen as you cry out for mercy.”
If her eyes weren’t confined under heavy leather, she would have rolled them in response to his dirty talk. 
“That sounds very appealing. Thank you,” her voice was dry and full of sarcasm, refusing to take him seriously.
Slap!
Her entire body jerked forward from the force of his blow against her ass. 
Strong. Stinging. 
Done with direct intention to cause pain. 
Punishing her for the sarcasm. 
She shrieked, mostly from the shock than the hurt, but immediately felt a trickle of wetness run down her thigh. 
“Won’t you be a good girl and remind me of my favorite rule?” 
His hand spread out over the stinging, hot skin of her cheek, giving her swift, hard pats to make sure the pain didn’t disappear too quickly as he spoke. 
She shivered under his touch, “Don’t talk back to Daddy. Ever.”
“Good girl,” he cooed. “Next time use that pretty, little brain of yours and think before you speak.”
Her hair was tangled in his large hand as he shook her head back and forth to further his point. 
“Otherwise, I’ll be forced to ball gag you.”
Fingers slipped between her thighs. 
She parted her legs the best she could for him to get better access to her core. 
A squelching of wet, soaked squishing sounds followed as two long fingers sunk inside of her. 
A low, deep moan of approval rumbled out his throat at the sounds. 
“You are absolutely drenched, my little whore. Something tells me you liked the pain. Maybe you were using that brain after all. Did you like it when Daddy spanks his naughty girl?” 
Her tumbling whines followed as nimble, expert fingers stroked at her pussy, drowning out any worded response she might give. 
Coaxing her to life. 
Waking up all her senses. 
She tried her best to hold her legs open for him despite feeling unsteady in her web binds. She wanted him to give her as much pleasure as he could and that meant letting him have easy access. 
“Does my baby like the pain?” He asked again, running the hand not buried inside of her against her still stinging ass cheek. “Come on, I asked you a question, use your words, pretty girl.”
“Mmm, yes, Daddy. I like it. I like it!”
Smack!
She yelped, throwing her head back as waves of arousal washed over her. The pain from the spank mixed with the pleasure of his touch was enough for another gush of fluids to soak into his hand. 
“Look at how hard your nipples have gotten,” he gave a dreamy sigh. “Oh wait, you can’t. My sweet, blind baby. All lost in the dark with nothing to look at.”  
Her breathing was becoming ragged in her ears. Her body swayed against the webs. 
Knowing hands wrapped around her stomach, leaving the warmth of her cunt, much to her displeasure. 
They trailed upwards, through the valley of her breasts, until they gripped around her neck. 
Her mouth opened in a silent gasp. 
“Guess where I went today?” His voice was nothing more than a low, darkening whisper. 
She couldn’t respond. His hand had tightened around her, softly squeezing, using a mere feather touch of his strength but still able to restrict her air flow. 
“While my princess was napping, Daddy slipped out to buy you some presents. Found myself a little sex shop. You would have loved it,” he mused. “They had vending machines full of toys. Picked myself up a few fun gadgets to play with.” 
He released his hand from around her neck, never wanting to hold her there for too long, and admired the way she gasped for breath. 
Fingers tweaked at her nipples. He hadn’t been lying before, they really were rock hard. She could feel how tight they were from his rough menstruations.
She could hear him rummaging around behind her when something cold dragged across her breasts. 
“Deep breath, princess.” 
Following his warning, the cold, grooved metal clamped down over her left nipple. 
She let out a genuine cry, her back arching from the pain. 
It gripped her tighter than his teeth ever had, dragging her nipple out from her body, and squeezing down painfully hard. 
The groves made it feel like little razors digging into her sensitive flesh. 
Peter huffed out a laugh in a sadistic amusement at her reaction, “You know, when the woman running the store saw these come out of the vending machine, she looked over with a nod and said something like ‘molto doloroso’. Now, I don’t speak much Italian but I’m going to assume it translates to ‘Those hurt like a bitch and your pain whore of a wife will love them.’ Am I right?”
She choked out a sob, squirming uncomfortably against the webs, “Ow. It hurts…too much…hate ‘em.”
“Oh, don’t worry, there’s another one right here! It’ll help balance out the pain so both those beautiful tits get a turn.” 
Another agonizing clamp bit down against her other nipple. The sharp, grooved metal felt like it might rip her nipple straight off her breast. 
The nipple clamps they had at home were capped with a smooth rubber. These were bare and ready to grip on to her tender skin with the strength of a fucking bear trap. 
She let out a full scream the moment it bit down, thrashing her body in an attempt to get away from the clamps. Crocodile tears rolled down her cheek from under the blindfold. 
“Shh, shh, shh!” 
A heavy hand cut off her cries by wrapping around her mouth. His breath was against her ear, hushing her, soothing her, running his lips over her forehead with quick kisses.
“Not so loud, baby,” he whispered. “You’ll draw a crowd with those cries.” 
“What?” She gasped through heavy, pained breaths. “Crowds?”
Peter’s hands reached up to slide the blindfold up off her eyes and tossed it onto the floor. 
He took a step to the side, watching her blink in confusion, as her tear blurred sight came back into focus. 
She had forgotten about the breeze. 
He had distracted her. 
Kept her mind occupied so she wouldn’t ask questions. 
She was tied up, stark naked, and splayed out directly in front of the arched floor to ceiling window overlooking the streets of Florence. 
The top half of the glass was pushed open, letting in the cool evening summer breeze, and making sure nothing muffled the sounds of her screams. 
And she had been screaming. 
“Peter!” She cried in horror, paranoid that anyone could look up and see her. They weren’t that high up in the hotel. Any curious person who decided to glance upwards would certainly catch her out in all her glory. 
Wack!
The sound of her sore ass being slapped filled her ears. 
Nothing could hurt more than her breasts at the moment and she welcomed the familiar pain his hands brought. 
She also couldn’t deny that growing, aching pressure happening between her legs. Her masochistic tendencies had yet to fail her. 
“Not my name,” he scolded. 
She whined, bouncing her leg against the floor in protest, and trying to tug at her bindings. 
“Let me down!”
She knew full well that those webs would never give but it didn’t stop her from giving it a shot. 
He leaned against the wall beside the open window, arms crossed, a prideful smirk sitting on his smug face, watching her struggle. 
“I told you I was going to put you on display.”
She never thought he meant it literally. 
Tears burned in her eyes at the wave of shame at being so exposed.
At least the shock helped to dull the pain in her breasts.
She scanned the tight streets below and was thankful to see that no one was stopped and staring. 
Yet. 
Her watchful eyes followed Peter as he pushed off from the wall and moved behind her.
Breath caught in her throat as his fingers found a home back inside of her drenched pussy. 
“Still as wet as ever, I see,” he noted. “You can cry and beg and plead all you want but Daddy knows the truth. He sees behind your tears.” 
Slick fingers circled around her aching clit. 
Toying with it. 
Teasing her. 
“You like being held up on a pedestal.”
A long, skinny middle finger sunk inside of her. 
Her head rolled back. Eyes closed. 
“You like people hearing you cum.”
His thumb on her clit. 
Brushing. Stroking.
Building her pleasure. 
“You like having others watch as your Daddy pleasures his princess.” 
In and out. 
Slowly penetrating her with his finger. 
Tending dutifully to that tiny bundle of nerves.
“You like the pain.”
He flicked at her nipple clamps. 
Sending shots of pain throughout her breasts.
Electrifying her. 
Soothing it over with those wonderful ministrations at her pussy. 
“You love me and you’ll let me do anything I want to your gorgeous body…isn’t that right?”
She whimpered. 
Eyes closed tight. 
Feeling that build of orgasmic pleasure rising. 
“I love you,” she breathed back, tears in her eyes. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
He practically purred in her ear. 
Or maybe it was a growl. 
Whatever it was, the noise caused her cunt to gush in reply. 
He chucked, “That’s it baby, you’re so close. I can feel you tightening around my fingers. What do you say we give the people a show?”
He was gone. 
Leaving her empty. 
Dripping. 
Pathetically whining and begging for a finish. 
“Don’t worry, princess,” he called from the other end of the room. “Daddy bought some more toys. He’s going to treat his baby tonight.” 
She listened to the zipping of a bag as he rustled through to find what he was looking for. 
Her chest rose and fell in anticipation. Each breath brought back the dulling sting from her nipples. She tried to keep still, terrified more movement would draw attention upwards toward the window. 
She gave a quiet shudder at the thought and tried to imagine what she would look like from down below. 
The image brought a glint of a wicked smile to her lips. 
Something small and chilly brushed against her back door and she yelped in surprise. 
Slap!
“Hold still!” He scolded. 
The sound of a bottle squirting caused her to try to careen her head around to see what he was doing behind her.  
She managed to catch a glimpse of the butt plug he held in his hand. 
It looked a bit bigger than the small one they used at home but had the same metal teardrop shape. A red jewel flattened out the end. 
“Figured this was the next size up from your old friend. You leveled up from girlfriend to wife. Time to level up in other areas, too.”
Lube smeared over her tight hole as the cold, rounded point pushed against it. 
Not even a warm up with his fingers first. 
Peter really was in a dominant, pent up mood.
Her eyes slipped closed and her head fell back against her arched spine. She let out a deep breath, relaxing her body as much as she could, so it could slide in easier. 
“Ah, ow,” she gasped, hissing in pain. “Oh, fuck.”
Slow and steady he sunk it into her. 
He held it there, stopped in place, over the thickest part of the teardrop. Forcing her body to stretch to the foreign object. 
She tried to control her whines from being too loud. Her thighs trembled under her. Her face contorted into pain and her jaw clenched. 
More lube trickled down between her crack to help the little device along as Peter took note of her tensing body. 
“There you go, baby,” he encouraged. “Nice and easy. Breathe through it.”
He teased it through her ass, pushing it in a little ways and pulling it back out, making her continue to take on the thickest part of the plug just to keep up to torture a bit longer. 
“Please, Daddy,” she whimpered. “Just put it in. Please.”
“Aww, does my sweet baby need her ass filled? You’re Daddy’s little fuck toy. Daddy’s going to have any hole he wants. You have no say in where he ends up.” 
He refused to move it past the diameter, holding it steady. 
“Did you happen to catch the color of that tacky, little jewel they stuck on the end?” 
He pulled it back out. 
Teasing just the tip.
Exciting the bundle of sensory nerves around her anus and making her wriggle around. 
“Spider-Man red. Just for you.”
Finally, he eased the entire thing inside of her. 
“Ahhh!” She wailed. “Fuck!”
Filling her up. 
Swallowing the plug. 
Feeling it heavy inside of her. 
“So you’ll always remember who owns this ass.” 
Smack!
His hand came down hard against her bruising cheek. 
Ecstasy coursed through her veins at the sting. 
She was so full. Stretched and heavy. Uncomfortably aroused. 
An arm snaked up her own outstretched one to brush his fingers over her wedding ring, lacing his fingers with hers.
His bare chest pressed against her back, grinding his hips over her ass.  
His face fell against her neck, inhaling her scent, nuzzling his nose against her.
“My beautiful wife,” he breathed. “All tied up. Horny for her husband. Put out on display for all of Florence to see.”
Fingers wrapped around her waist to dip through her pubic hair, finding her heated crevice, needy for his touch. 
Palming. Flicking. Penetrating. 
“Nipples clamped. Ass filled. My name, cursed forever on your lips. All you need now is a cock to fill that empty cunt.” 
He fished it from the confines of his boxers. 
Dragging it along her soaked valley. 
Feeling it pulsate against her waiting lips. 
“No!” She gasped, staring down at the people below. 
She knew once he started to fuck her she couldn’t keep quiet. Her voice would soar out the open window and onto the people below. 
They would look. 
They would see her. 
“What if-” Her breath quickened. “What if someone looks up? They’ll hear me. They’ll look. I know they will.”
She didn’t need to see his face to know Peter had a cheshire cat grin growing. The sound of his voice was enough to hear his rising libido. 
“Then they’ll see a little princess fucking herself on her Daddy’s cock.” 
The bulbous head of his thick rod pressed between her folds. 
Sinking in. 
Stretching her out. 
He hesitated there. Stilling behind her. 
“Go on, baby. Fuck yourself. Let everyone see what a whore you can be.”
She almost didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to give in. She could play games, too. 
Her breath held in her lungs. Closing her eyes. Biting down on her bottom lip. 
Peter waited. 
The crown of his manhood nestled patiently in her pussy, being squeezed by her heated walls, kissed by her slick. 
Letting her throw her silent tantrum. 
She hung there, counting the seconds, fighting the urge to move, trying to breathe through her body’s desires.
Her legs were trembling. Her toes ached from holding her weight. 
It would be so easy to just…ease back…impale herself on his sword…give up. 
She could hear his labored breaths behind her. Smelled his cologne. Felt him twitching inside of her. 
“Close the windows,” she struggled to whimper out through her held breaths. “Let’s go to the bed. Take me there. Fuck me there. I’ll let you do anything you want. Just…not…not in front of the window.”
Peter tutted his tongue, “Since when has Daddy ever let you make the demands, hmm?”
He reached his hands up to her shoulders and gave a gentle push, getting tired of her defiance, “When I tell you to fuck yourself, you fuck yourself. I’m not going to do it for you.” 
Even the smallest of shoves from her shoulders was enough for her tiptoed feet to give out. She stumbled back, feeling his cock sink deeper. 
She let out a strangled cry. 
“No! On the bed. Bring to me to the bed!”
Her eyes were squeezed shut, refusing to see the window in front of them, torn between finding it extremely arousing and positively mortifying. 
“I’m sorry, princess. The bed is for good girls. The bed is for well behaved women who don’t wear little dresses and shake their ass as they walk for all the men to stare at. The bed is for lovers.” His hand gripped around her hair and shoved her face towards the window. “The window is for whores who get off on pain and love the attention their Daddy gives them.”
His voice lowered into a commanding, deep tone, “Open your fucking eyes and look at your audience.”
She blinked through the flow of overly emotional tears clinging to her lashes and forced her eyes open. 
People lined the tight, winding streets, walking lazily to their destination. Not one glanced up at them. Not one seemed to notice her out on display, front and center, above their heads. Peter was protected behind her body. She would be the one they see. 
Framed by the window. 
Art. 
That’s what he called her earlier. 
She was art and Peter, the artist. 
Helpless to whatever ways he wanted to exhibit her 
Little by little she sunk back onto his cock. Taking him into her. Eyes rolling back. Submitting to his demands until he bottomed out.
His chorus of pleased moans let her know he had won. 
She let her body get used to him inside of her. Her pussy knew his cock well by now but she liked to reacquaint them carefully every time they would meet. 
Peter was always a bit of a stretch. 
With the girthier plug shoved in her ass, her arms bound and outstretched, and her nipples screaming in pain, she felt the need to move a little slower with her pussy today. 
Gradual, small movements, easing herself up off his cock and then impaling herself back down. 
Slow and steady. 
She shifted on her toes, rocking her hips back and forth, taking him with longer and longer strides as her shameful whimpers grew into desperate cries. 
“There you go,” he murmured, brushing her hair back off her shoulder to nip at her skin with his teeth. “Ride Daddy’s cock, babygirl. Show everyone how good you can take it.”
Her own slick coated his shaft, making it slip through her without resistance.
He stayed fairly still behind her apart from making sure his hips were pressed forward enough for her to have easy access to his body. 
She was getting into a rhythm. Starting to get lost in the feelings. 
But, the harder she fucked herself, the more her breasts would sway. 
The more they moved, the more pain the clamps created as they bit down like they might cut clean through her flesh. 
It was getting to the point where it might be too much pain for her to enjoy and ruining her momentum on his cock. 
She hissed, biting down on her lip, trying to endure it the best she could manage. 
Peter shifted behind her, bringing his lips to her ear, and whispering for reassurance, “Color?”
She swallowed, trying to decide exactly what she was feeling, “G-green?”
He stilled her by gripping onto her hips, keeping himself buried inside her warmth, but moving his head around in an attempt to better see her face. 
“You sure? You don’t sound sure.”
She nodded, breathing heavily, “Almost yellow. Not quite though. But almost.”
“Which part?” He trailed loving kisses of safety along her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist to hug her sweetly from behind. 
“The clamps.” When she saw his hands immediately move to take them off her, she hurried to add. “Not yet! I…still like them…but soon, okay?”
“Soon,” he agreed, giving her one more adoration infused kiss to her cheek, before slipping back into character. “Daddy never told his little princess to stop, did he?” 
To shove her back into the role, he slapped her ass with three hard, lashing blows of his open palm. 
Each slap caused her breasts to bounce, sending shooting shocks of pure, agonizing pain through her body and a rush of warmth to her cunt. 
Pain and pleasure. Her favorite combination. 
“Looks like the sweet little angel is getting quite the bruise back here. If you keep misbehaving, you won’t be able to sit down for our breakfast tomorrow. Then everyone will know what a bad, little whore you’ve been.”
She whined in response, bucking her hips backwards to find his cock again, needing more pleasure to balance out the scales. 
“Eager little thing, aren’t you?”
He soothed his hands over her shoulders, pushing her down, sinking her onto his length.
“My pain hungry baby.” 
It wasn’t difficult to fall back into her previous rhythm. Her cunt was soaked and starving for its lover to come back home. 
“Fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Let those people down there know how much you love me. Be louder, princess. I want them to hear.”
She whimpered out a tiny cry. 
Her motions grew frantic the more he continued to talk dirty in her ear. 
That tiny cry grew into loud, unadulterated, guttural moans. 
The sounds of a whore taking her favorite cock. 
She struggled against the webs binding her. Her shoulders were starting to ache. Her arms were losing feeling. 
Her body was stretched tight. Nipples crying. Ass sore. The weight of the plug was even more noticeable with his cock pushing in and out of her. 
It felt like it was bouncing inside of her each time he pushed under it. 
Her toes hurt from being hung up on such an unsteady height. 
“Peter- Daddy,” she gasped. “Daddy, please…” 
She didn’t know what she was asking for.  
Some kind of relief. 
Something steadier. Something more concrete. 
“Shh, baby, it’s okay, Daddy’s got you.” 
He reached around to her chest with both hands, simultaneously unclamping her nipples from their prison. 
Fire erupted in its place as the blood rushed back. 
A new kind of pain bloomed. 
Searing and hot. 
Her breasts were in flames. 
She cried out. Loud and sharp. 
At the same moment, Peter ripped her down from the webs, still embedded on his cock as he wrapped her up in tight arms and pushed her flat against the window. 
Her hips pressed against the cool glass but her torso nearly bent out the opening. 
Her anguished nipples happily sought out the cool breeze. Soothing over the sting. Settling her inflamed body. Not caring who looked up. 
Peter gripped onto her hips so he could better ram into her. Her job was over. She had done what he wanted. 
Now it was his turn to take over. 
Her body surrendered to him. 
“Ugnnn,” she whined. “Fuck!!” 
Her hands clenched into fists against the glass. Her back arched. 
Eyes wide. 
Taking his thrusts with near drooling moans. 
His rigid shaft drove into her, surging deep up inside, stretching her walls and drawing out the most luscious rumbles of pleasure. 
His balls slapped up against her. The sound echoing around their vaulted ceiling. 
Filling her. Stuffing her full.
Both holes used and defiled. 
She couldn’t stop the noises she was making. Throaty moans, shrieking cries, babbling coos.
He was getting it all out of her.  
Someone was watching. Looking at them. Spying them from down below. 
A young couple.
“Daddy!” She sobbed. “They’re-”
“Shh,” he hushed her. “I know, baby. I see ‘em, too. They like what they see. They’re talkin’ about us. Enjoyin’ it.” 
A broken cry fell from her lips and she stared down through her tears at the couple. 
Her eye sight wasn’t the greatest. She couldn’t make out their faces very clearly but neither of them looked horrified. 
They looked…giggly…
The woman was running her hand along her partner's arm. His hand disappeared behind her back and traveled down to her ass. 
Harder and harder Peter slammed. 
She was being ravaged by his strength. Losing the ability to make any noise. 
Nothing but silent, open mouthed gasps and a raining of tears were all that came out. 
“Too-” He grunted, crashing into her again. “Hard?” 
Through a shuddering, gasping breath, she managed to choke out, “Don’t you fucking stop.”
As long as Peter was fucking her like this, he could do it any way he wanted. He could drag her out onto the streets and fuck her at that nosy couples feet if he pleased. 
It was his art show. He held the control. 
He didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. Didn’t pause. 
His finger marks would be bruised into the soft flesh of her hips for the upcoming days with how tightly he gripped them. 
She held eye contact with the watching woman down below. Stared straight at her. Sizing her up, silently challenging her to get as good a fuck from her partner as she was from Peter.
She wanted to make her jealous. Or horny.
Either was fine as long as the woman was thinking of her.  
“Yes, Daddy!” She cried, loud enough for her voice to carry down below. “Feels so good! Making your little girl feel so good!” 
She knew damn well Peter’s face was cast in the shadows behind her. The idea of this couple truely thinking she was being fucked by her own father made her laugh under her breath.
“Somethin’ funny, princess?” His voice was getting strained and she knew that meant he was getting closer to his release.
“Just enjoying my fans,” she gasped back. “They love what you’re doing.”
Her eyes were wild as she breathed in the fresh air. 
She felt free. 
She was married and in love. They were on their honeymoon in Italy. 
She was getting absolutely pounded by her husband in full view of a watching, interested couple.
She should be embarrassed, ashamed. 
But all she felt was bliss. 
That plunging, relentless cock, massaging her channel, thick veins grazing over that tender g-spot whenever she angled her body correctly, the weight of the plug in her ass, her aching nipples…
Everything was pushing her straight towards her final hurdle. 
Without much warning, it suddenly became all too much. No build up. 
Just explosions.  
A wave of ferocious, intense pleasure roared over her, sweeping her up, taking her by surprise. 
She came hard and fast. 
Sheiking. Crying out. 
Thrashing against the window, leaning half way out of it, trying to gasp for air. 
Peter grabbed at her hair to yank her back inside like he was terrified of losing her over the edge. 
“Fuck, princess,” he grunted. “Where ya goin’?” 
Her ears defended under the rush of blood swelling to her head but she was certain she was screaming in ecstasy from the way Peter’s hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her sounds. 
She contracted tightly around his cock, squeezing him, using him to further her explosion of pleasure, still feeling the stinging pain of her breasts to only shove her deeper into subspace. 
On and on her orgasm went. Unstoppable. As Peter kept driving into her and furiously rubbing his fingers over her clit. 
He kept her heightened. Overloaded. Knowing that it would destroy her.
She had the brief sensation of feeling him cumming inside of her. Feeling the spurt of warmth. Feeling full. 
But her agonizing long orgasm only served to weaken her rational thinking. She no longer existed. She was no longer on solid ground. 
Floating. Drifting through space. 
Lost amongst the stars. 
Finally, her body gave up. 
Finally, the orgasm came to a simmering hault. 
She was done. 
She hung limply against the window pane. Eyes rolling in her head. Twitching and whimpering. 
Peter scooped her into his protective arms, cradling her against his chest, peering his face to see their onlookers. 
“Shows over!” He called down to them. “Fuck off!”
Without his raging, pent up, sexual energy to seize control of his brain, he no longer liked the idea of anyone getting to view his naked wife besides him. His protective nature spiked to replace his dwindling arousal and he turned his back to the window to shield her with his body. 
He carried her away from their stares back into the safety of privacy where she belonged.  
She made no protests or struggles as their game finished. Her head hung limp against his shoulder. 
“My sweet girl,” he murmured in her ear. She was being placed on their bed. “Daddy’s going to clean you up. Wait here.”
Time wasn’t real. 
She blinked and he reappeared holding a warm, wet cloth to her legs. 
Over her thighs. 
Spreading her open. 
Cupping it against her used and battered sex. 
Gently cleaning away their mess. 
“There,” he whispered. “All better.”
Peter crawled into bed in front of her, wrapping an arm over her waist and kissing at the tip of her nose. 
Gradually, she returned to her body, her mind drifting slowly back into her skull. 
“Mmmm,” she groaned. “Everything hurts. Think you broke me.”
He chuckled to himself, soothing a hand over an abused nipple, “Sweet girl. I’ll try to find you some ice in a minute. But, right now, I’m not leaving your side until you fully wake up. Rest, baby. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” 
When she adjusted herself on the bed, sliding a leg through his, she took note of the fact that the plug was still snuggly lodged inside of her. 
Their night was only just beginning. 
He had left it there on purpose. 
She kind of liked it. 
Maybe she would wear it out to dinner…
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rottenpumpkin13 · 1 day
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How would Sephiroth feel if Cloud was related to him?
Assuming this is an AU scenario where Hojo is Cloud's biological father. He found Claudia "attractive enough to birth a hero," but it never went anywhere because Cloud was a weak, sickly baby.
Sephiroth found out about Cloud's parentage when he came across a file on him in Hojo's archives.
Sephiroth can't leave Cloud alone now. He has a brother.
He's always lurking now when the troopers have their training sessions with Angeal, or looking just a bit too long whenever they happen to be on the same assignment.
He's always watching, letting the curiosity slowly consume him. He wants to know what Cloud's life was like growing up in the mountains, far away from Hojo and Shinra, with a mother who loves him. He's envious, wondering if his own life would've been any different if Hojo rejected him at birth. Cloud wasn't subjected to the same things he was, and Sephiroth is both grateful and bitter.
As envious as he is, he's also enraged. How dare Hojo rob him of his brother? His own family? They were supposed to grow up together, to be by each other's side through everything. They were This isn't fair. And now here Cloud is, working for Shinra too. Yet they're still apart.
So he makes the impulse decision to corner Cloud one morning and show him everything that he found. Imagine his shock when Cloud reveals he knew Professor Hojo was his biological father, but his mother warned him of how he was, making Cloud never want anything to do with him.
Sephiroth asks him if he's aware that Hojo is his biological father.
To say Cloud is shocked is putting it lightly. He's floored, but not because Sephiroth is Hojo's son, but because he's related to Sephiroth.
After a long talk where they both get to know each other better and establish that they're brothers no matter what, Cloud insists that Sephiroth come back to Nibelheim and meet Claudia.
Lucky for them, there's a certain mission to Nibelheim that makes for a perfect opportunity.
While Cloud is usually prone to motion-sickness, be barely feels it on the ride to Nibelheim. He's too busy talking and laughing with Sephiroth to notice the bumps and turns on the road that would usually make his stomach churn.
Zack is happy for both of them—Cloud, for having a brother, and Sephiroth for having any family at all. They've been inseparable since finding out they're related, with Sephiroth going as far as inviting Cloud to stay over at his place and giving Cloud expressed permission to stay in his apartment.
Claudia and Sephiroth meet as soon as they arrive. Sephiroth grows to like her immediately. She's warm, nurturing, and quick to treat Sephiroth with the care he was denied as a child.
He asks Claudia if there's any chance that she knew his mother, Jenova. Claudia mentions how she remembers seeing a woman that matched her description around the village a few times years ago.
Now that Sephiroth knows he wasn't crazy when he found Nibelheim familiar, he needs to know more.
She explains how Hojo and the entirety of Shinra's research team stayed at the old Shinra Mansion right outside the village. She directs him there if he wants to find more information.
Sephiroth neglects sleep that evening in favor of exploring the Shinra mansion in search of clues. Cloud insists on coming with him, but Sephiroth is adamant that he stay and prepare for their mission the next day.
Sephiroth heads for the Shinra mansion, where he finds the library.
In the end, not even Cloud can stop the inevitable. No matter how much he screams and begs and tries to reason with his justifiably enraged brother.
But brotherhood matters little when you're the holy son, the chosen one set to inherit the planet alongside your loving mother.
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marredmusings · 2 days
Text
umm so i wrote a little fic/blurb idk i don't think it's good but it's something that's been stuck in my head for a while with my own little oc named grace but her name is only mentioned a few times so it could totally be ignored and seen as reader.
anyway this is my first ever fic so please be kind to me and if you have suggestions or other fic ideas i'd love to hear them.
not proof read and lowercase intended.
and if you think it's awful please lie to me i'm fragile 😔
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deny
you are a lover girl. a hopeless romantic, someone who dreams of finding "the one" and living happily ever after. kie often says you tend to fall in love a little with everyone you meet. you can't help it though, you have so much love in you, it feels like you'll burst at the seams if you don't share it with others.
you think you're in love with your best friend jj maybank. no one understands you the way the wild blond haired boy does. no one can communicate with you with just a single look the way jj does. no one makes your heart beat out of your chest and your tummy flutter the way his dimpled smile does, eyes crinkling at the corners, a slight sunburn on his nose because lord know that boy doesn't use the sunscreen you bought him.
so yeah you're in love with jj maybank but then yesterday a different boy kissed you. pope heyward, your other best friend, genius extraordinaire whom you thought was maybe in love with kie but no- he kissed you and you felt a tingle in your ever beating heart. heat filled your cheeks and your ears became fuzzy. that was a new feeling when it came to pope. it made you excited to explore because as much as you love jj, you don't think the boy would ever return your undying affection because your friendship meant too much.
----
you stood in the threshold of popes bedroom, gasp stuck in your throat, eyes wide and mouth open at the sight before you. you’re not sure how to process what you’re seeing.
before you on the bed that pope kissed you on not even 24 hours ago, is jj maybank, your closest friend, kissing the heyward boy.
so many emotions flow through you at the sight before you.
shock because not once has jj; or pope for that matter mentioned or even hinted that they liked men- or each other. then again, jj has always liked beautiful people and pope is certainly that.
sadness because you and pope had literally just kissed. maybe you were naive to think a simple kiss meant something more to the boy, but it was pope, you don't think there's a mean bone in his body. then again you’ve always been too much of a romantic, too blinded to really see what’s in front of you. blinded by your want and need to be loved that perhaps you create situations in your mind that you interpret as reality? maybe you need to contact your therapist again. you're sounding even more delusional than before.
lastly, you feel jealousy. the angry green monster rumbling around in your tummy, making its way up your throat. you’re not sure what exactly is making you jealous because the image of the two boys kissing is surely confusing. are you jealous because pope is kissing another person who isn’t you? a part of you is jealous because he’s kissing jj. or maybe it’s that jj is kissing pope or that maybe they’re kissing eachother and they're not kissing you? you're not sure at this point. dear diary jealousy is a disease babes, and you are infected.
you must have made a noise because next thing you know, the two boys are pulling apart, a string of spit still connecting them and for a second your love rattled brain is jealous of it. the spit that is, because deep down you’ve always known that you wanted them both… to be the one to connect them. you feel slightly crazy being jealous of spit.
jjs face goes beat red and then flushes pale, like a ghost. he looks terrified and like he might vomit all over the floor in a second.
“grace!” popes panicked voice reaches your ears but they’re still kind of ringing from the shock of seeing your supposedly straight best friends kiss.
in your heartbroken haze you wonder if you're being a bad ally right now. you love the gays you swear! you just never pictured pope and jj as being a part of the gays ™.
you clear your throat, “jb and kie are waiting for us downstairs. we were going out on the boat today, remember?”
you try and say that as gently as possible because jj still looks like he’s going to pass out and pope isn’t much better.
popes hands are shaking as he reaches for you and a part of you wants to pull away but you’re not mean. you’ve never been mean so even if your feelings are hurt you’ll always put your best friends feelings above your own. and it looks like pope needs to touch you. maybe to hold your hand and reassure him you’re really standing there, witnessing something that you probably shouldn’t have.
so many emotions flicker through popes eyes. you can’t really see his blush but you’re sure if you touch his face it would be hotter than the sun.
pope grabs your hands in his shaking ones. you can feel how clammy they are and you hazard a look back to jj who has yet to even move. you’re a little concerned he’s gone into shock.
you let out a soft sigh and smile at the boys, a smile that is mostly genuine.
you squeeze popes hand and make eye contact with the panicked blonde boy on the bed.
“it’s ok jj. i won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.” you speak kindly, as if you’re talking to a scared feral cat.
you only see jj swallow hard. “for what it’s worth, i understand the appeal... wanting to kiss pope and all.” you tease hoping to cut the obvious tension in the room. you feel like you're the one choking now.
jj and pope both let out huffs like they’re afraid to laugh but also relieved you’re not upset.
“you’re not mad?” jj croaks like he still has a frog lodged in his throat. he looks at you with soft wonder, like you’re the best thing in his life. his stare makes your tummy flutter.
“of course not. you guys are my best friends. i only ever want you to be happy!” you reply honestly. jj deserves happiness after the shit life he’s been dealt. he deserves good things and if you have to set aside your feelings in order for him to have good things then by golly you’ll do that.
“grace, about yesterday-“ pope starts off,
“don’t worry buddy, already forgotten.” you cut him off. hopefully saving him the strife of having to apologize to you about the kiss and saving you the embarrassment of him telling you he regrets your kiss. you don't think you could survive hearing that out loud.
you march over to jj still holding popes hand, effectively dragging the boy with you. you throw your arms tightly around jjs neck and after a heartbeat, jj returns your hug. you move your head to look at pope and nod at him, encouraging him to join the hug.
“now c’mon. you know how pissy jb gets when he’s made to wait” you giggle.
you lead the boys out of popes room and home and into the twinkie without giving them an option of saying no.
“finally! i thought y’all died or something. what took so long” john b huffs in exasperation.
“my fault jb!” you quickly chirp so the boys don’t have to panic and think of a lie “pope showed me the new book he got and it’s my favourite and i starting gushing and you know me i can’t shut up and… well i forgot why i went up to get them in the first place” you giggle with a sheepish smile.
“you’re so lucky you’re cute, grace” kie laughs teasingly.
you see pope and jj making eye contact. you have a feeling you might need to play therapist for them soon. pope doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings without beating around the bush and well, jjs favourite thing to do is deny deny deny.
actually, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do too! deny you have feelings for pope. deny you have feelings for jj. deny you ever saw them kiss and deny that them kissing only upset you because you weren’t a part of it. deny that a part of you enjoyed it. deny that your feelings matter in this situation and deny that if given the chance, you’d love to be in between a beautiful jj maybank and pope heyward sandwich.
yep, deny deny deny. this is gonna be a long freaking summer.
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kel-lance · 4 hours
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Sub!Choso x Reader
MDNI——collars leashes whip’s edging stomping humiliation blindfolds restraints gags overstimulation pegging taunting slapping blood play period sex {all mentioned}
Premise: Choso walked in on you and (bonus:) your date (sub!Nanami) and begs for his own collar.
Making it home after another morning shift, you’re stopped in front of your apartment door to punch in the numbers to the automated lock. You push your way in and thank your district manager finally let you have an opening shift. You swear people get dumber as the day goes on and by the end of the night your patience has worn thin. 
You’re still a sweetheart though, everyone knows you as being the mediator. The person to come to to see both sides and even additionally your own view of it to let them think over their problems, or options. Either way, you’d always keep things light. 
Any form of confrontation or conflict made you want to help fix it right away. But what do you do to help with the anger? Surely there was something else you’d do, like a hobby or something, to release the stress of harboring the most open mind, and basically know how it will go with the way you’d observe them silently.
Not many people would know about your fun pastime, not until choso walked in on you and you date one night. 
He surely was still trying to understand what he saw. That wasn’t a dream? Because it would make more sense if it were a dream, he knew for a fact. But it was something he just couldn’t stop thinking about, it had his balls blue. 
If he were to think about it he’d swell up immediately, the blood rushing to his cheeks and sadly but quickly creating a mess in his pants, he’d curse how much of a mess you now made of him. 
His quiet and caring roommate looked so out of place, but it was their room… “(Y/n)’s a sadist?” Just having him walk in on you was torture on him enough. You two knew each others schedules, and Yuki’s too as she’s the third to share the large studio together. Their brother-sister relationship, and you and her friendship, and you and him just being caught up in her world, living together just made things easier. Really it saved gas. 
It wasn’t like walking in on you while you were talking a no clothes shit. Or if you just got in the shower and the glass or mirror hasn’t steamed up yet. This was your best friends brother walking into your room, while you were dressed up in just pleather straps, having recognized that that was his youngest brother’s teacher, blindfolded and on his knees in front of you.
You wonder if he was still going to act weird about it. The best way to relieve yourself was just power play in general. You already knew it all, all possible ways situations can play out, you could tell what people will say, what their next action could be, it was already enough to make you so bored, or go crazy. 
It wasn’t like you were feigning your consideration towards others, but it’s the fact when they don’t listen. You tell what the next moves are, by the patterns of things and taking chances on how some days just don’t go as planned. That there will always be an element of surprise just when you thought you got the pattern down. 
You can talk and talk and talk, and explain finally what you mean, maybe you talked too much and it confused them… “That’s on them for not paying attention.” The supremacy you secretly held was upsetting. It was just fantasy, something that you had to figure out how to fix, “Maybe they just like to be hurt.” You thought one day, and that’s when it started. 
You’ve secretly become a sadist, it just made sense. Trusting you to carry out their most wicked fantasies and you love to help, making the experience fruitful by learning how bodies react to certain things. As they taught you what they liked, you found yourself domineering the sessions, and most of the time they don’t object. (Half of them are gagged up anyway.)
And with all that time, sure you may have thought about it once or twice but knew it’d be rude to be the one to ask if Yuki could third wheel in her own house. “It couldn’t be me to ask, and I shouldn’t anyway.” Even though you two were close, you still held out consideration for them to not ruin the dynamic, but the sight in front of her older brother had stopped him in his tracks. Your small pleather get up was something he couldn’t even dream seeing on you. 
Your leg was up in the bed, your date was kneeling, blindfolded and clothed but exposed. His dress shirt unbuttoned at the top with bites and hickies under his collar and his pants still on but his erection bouncing and begging for your touch. His mouth was open and waiting, tongue begging to taste you while you hold his blonde hair back, he silently thanks you for taunting him. 
Choso and your eyes met, but you didn’t move. It was kinda hot, no, it was really hot seeing him blush immediately. With how red he got, you were hoping he be brave enough to join. 
You weren’t embarrassed, that wouldn’t make sense of your dominating energy in the room. The mouth under you was panting into you, the heat hot on your other mouth, the wetness coming down your legs, you were enjoying the sudden intrusion so much that you pushed Nanami’s face into you. Not breaking eye contact with choso, his deer in the headlights look on his face while you were riding another man’s face just 10 feet away from him, it happened so fast get it took him forever gather himself to leave.
You could only chuckle as you know this was gonna be a weird talk later. Nanami was fucked stupid now. His rigid face was soft and teary. The rise and fall of his chest was so fast, not helping the oxygen going to his head. So drunk for you, mindless and trusting, he wanted it so bad but couldn’t take another whip or edging session. Though your dates were always bliss for him and you just loved your pets so dearly. 
————
You were sitting on the couch and he comes up to the doorway. Not looking up, you stay sitting at the couch in the living room. Anytime you’d go into your room again, it was almost like choso was just trying to prove himself wrong with what he saw. He was like a puppy who saw their owner in a mask, got confused and scared, and now is wondering if “that person” is ever going to come back. You were just finally showing him that this was you; Your cool attitude about all this made choso realize you were always like this. 
Competitive when the reward is high, loud and domineering in rooms when control is needed, usually calm and quiet like him but he thought, he thought you really were like him. 
He wasn’t weak, but he didn’t like to call the shots, he didn’t care to unless it was for his family. But everyone grew up and he was already content, visiting them whenever they could and living with you and your friend, his “sister”, Yuki. 
You’ve always wanted him under you like this he was such a boy failure literally clung to his sister at the hip, her being such a flirt to men but her girlfriends find it funny when she beats them up if they ever got mad, like hey they never asked her. To which she’ll make up silly things to taunt the poor fuck who thought they could fight her.
Choso though just always was the coolest. His piercings and new tattoos every other month were just so hot. But you weren’t gonna ruin him. That wasn’t your call, he didn’t know that about you but you could tell he was perfect. Whatever he thought of you is what has been holding him back from a world that was ready for him. 
————————————————
“Please,” You let him suck on your fingers as you work and pulled away when he got too greedy. He stopped afraid you’d pull away and be not in the mood anymore. You just reposition yourself opening your legs which he knew to get in his knees.
He’s crying again and thanking you for finally letting him eat. He’s been waiting for so long, it's probably just been a week and since he saw you and his brothers teacher, and then it took him (almost) 48 hours before he was trying to ask you to do that with him. He just couldn’t flirt for the life of him.
His tears make his face so wet and sloppy and his hair is a mess. His make up, you applied it over every time he messed it up, even when you didn’t touch him but he’d always find a way to make a mess. His sobs had his cheeks glowing, crying while you laugh bc it tickles, “That feels so good.”
His cheeks were soaked that he could close his mouth and basically motorboat the inside of your thighs, his lips rubbing on every part of you, side to side, while his cheeks stimulated the side of your innerds, touching you everywhere, enhancing the whole body feeling. 
His hands were around your hips to keep you from moving, which, he hopes you’ll punish him for later but he just needed it so bad. The needy whiny man was in front of you, just wanted a taste, and recieved the whole thing. Something tells you this would be the longest he’ll ever holdout for again. 
“You’ve been so good Choso,” You lean forward to give him a kiss on his wet cheek. You make sure your hand is dry before lightly fixing his hair, your fingertips sending shocks throughout his starved form. “I wanna see you under me, get on the bed.” 
He almost begs for another kiss before listening to you, going to lay in the middle of your bed, head on the pillow, but you look at him bored. You motion for him to sit up, as you cage him in on your knees, straddling the air. 
Choso almost bucks his hips forward just to feel your soft skin, just the smallest touch to know he wasn’t dreaming, or better yet he wanted to squeeze his own thighs together to create some kind of contact. His aching erection wanted nothing more than you, but placing a hand on his chest, tracing it down and tickling him, he arches forward at your touch, to which you slap his thigh sharply. 
“Hmm? Speak up baby, I can’t hear you.” You cooed. Now we’ve lost him, the man was babbling to himself, almost heaving and hyperventilating at the same time. His pants were long and drug out, and he couldn’t move. Subconsciously fearing you’d bring out the whip, like the one he’s seen on your bed, he freezes to just enjoy his situation a bit longer. “Come on, Choso,” Your fingers pinch his chin to face you. “Use your words.” 
You can only look down at him, he’s still crying, he can’t even speak, you don’t let him. Grabbing greedily at his waist, pulling it towards you, lifting his legs and spreading him open was such a treat. 
You knew to never have expectations of others bodies but his was better than you could have imagined.  The muscle and tattoos on his upper thighs were so hot, you get a good read of his body, the number of tattoos just confirm his masochism. 
You notice his face before he started to let loose. You grab at the sides of his throat and squeezed, cutting out his whimpers. It was amazing, those cute noises really ignited your hunger, you were surprisingly becoming satisfied.
You smear at and pick up his cum with your hand, using it to palm at his sensitive parts. He careened into your hand as you kept him hard and even rubbed under to get his balls. He gasps back and starts crying again. “Hey, pay attention.” He almost cums again as he watches you use the rest of his cum from your hand to wipe along your slit, to add to your wetness. You stare into his eyes. “Do you want to go first?” He uses this chance to flip you around. He hastily plunges into you and is so pathetic with his stroke game you laugh at him, he thanks you for letting him cum in you. 
You push his face off of you, grabbing him by his messy space buns you spit in his face and smear everything around. He pants and is so pussy drunk he’s only staring at you longingly after you keep a grip on his cheeks, finding a few seconds before he could find and stay focused on your eyes. As he was coming back, you decide to dig your fingers into his arms, enough to draw blood. He pants as it added a bit to his dying orgasm. You grip him and think how was life going to be like after this? 
Well that’s exactly what you asked him. He, being shy, and fucked silly was trying to regain the feeling in his face before remembering that this was just the beginning:
Sub!Choso waiting for you to come how everyday after work. 
Sub! Choso who usually knocks on your door lightly but with a raging hard on that he really needs you to help him out with.
Sub Choso who stays in the straps and keeps the toys you share in or stimulating him until you come back home. 
Sub! Choso melting at your touch and never letting you do anything around the house again.
Sub Chose who wants to have sleepovers and you two had to explain to Yuki that its just you two sleepover. 
Sub choso begging for you to touch him after a week bc of the last hasty move he did the other day had you decided to hold off and lock him out of your room. 
Completely abandoning him, bringing Nanami and another back to your room in front of him,
teasing him with wearing almost nothing around the house when yuki’s gone, you were going to ruin him,
that was the goal now If he just can’t hold back then you shouldn’t either.  
You who pinches Sub!Choso’s sides and nose when he comes off too needy, he cries for you and you honestly don’t know what you got yourself into. 
Sub choso who insists on doing everything with you, showering, being in the kitchen with you, and if you do allow him in your room, hell sit on the floor and wait to see if you want to use him.
Sub Chose who really likes to fuck you on your period bc that’s blood magic and he dabbles tf in that
Its basically a love spell, and he doesn’t care. He thinks it's a way to get closer to you without hurting you, not the way you’d claw at his skin or even lightly cut him sometimes just to lick up the wounds. 
Sub Choso always lowering himself around you bc he’s used to looking up at you
Sub Choso who gets jealous and asks why isn’t he enough to which you didn’t know his feelings were that deep so you two talk about your other pets, and what rules and other stuff going forward 
Sub Choso who decided to act out out one day, knowing that you would be holding off for a bit after how crazy the last session went, he was begging for your attention.
Sometimes you liked to see such a pathetic beautiful man beg for you at the end of a long day, but when you held off, he would become a mess. Not the kind to melt all over the floor, but he'd be more desperate for your touch, eyes always on you, almost like a stalker that you'd almost want to call Nanami back to show him what will happen if he keeps bothering you when you're trying to work.
That day he fucked up, you were on your way out to have some time to yourself. Maybe just sit at a cafe, or at a park, maybe even just find a high hill and watch the sky, but Choso was blocking your path
Sub Choso asking where you were going as it was your day off and you hadn't said anything to him about your plans for the day.
You tell him to be good and to let you have an hour or so to yourself. Hearing this he freaks out a little bit, his fists ball up and his voice was trying to leave his throat. "You're gonna go see him again aren't you? I don't like this game, that you can have as many and use them whenever."
I know you hate waiting Choso but its not like it's your turn and his turn. And by the way I'm not going to see him, but you could always find another mistress.
Sub Choso who refuses the very thought and walks towards you, grabbing at your hands desperately that it hurt, "No!" He turns his head to hide his face and holds onto you, not letting you leave.
You're very quiet, enough for him to finally look back at you and he realizes he cut you with his nails. The grip he had on you created semi purple blotches on your wrists, and you stood there not moving.
Sub Choso realizing what he just did and releasing your hands before falling down to your feet. He kneels as he watches your face, knowing what you do to him unprovoked already had him both excited and frightened, but this time he didn't even know how badly his body wanted you.
As he submits and shudders at what he's done, you make a rain check on that walk and drag him back to your room by his collar.
You had choso kneeling on the floor as you restrained his arms to his back, ignoring his pleads and sorry's. Your pets don't touch you like that. They don't do whatever they want without your approval, Choso knew that and acted accordingly, even if it got annoying sometimes. His dependency was so rich, it was like getting a new puppy.
In this case you were going to need the muzzle. This was no time for bargaining, he will learn what he did was wrong.
"I'm- (y/n), please, I'm sorry I just wanted you so bad I-" You slap him hard, fingers slapping against his cheekbone. He grunts as it stung, and continues his sorry's. "I really didn't mean to!"
You put the damn muzzle on him, having him bite down on the gag inside, you tighten the straps as Sub!Choso looks petrified, though still accepting his punishment.
There was nothing holding you back now, you were pissed. Your hands were your money makers, not to mention if one of /them/ start to overpower you, you could lose the title altogether. Like you were going to let a tantrum denounce you.
You have him strip and kneel again, whipping out his back and silently watching him wince and recoil at each thrash. You wanted his back red, this was just your warning.
Pointing his chin to look up at you, you place your foot down on his crotch and stepped forward. He hisses and throws his head around, his eyes finding your cold ones, pleading again with more than his usual frenzied state.
You draw your foot back and stomp on him this time. Tears formed and flowed, he sat there, still, taking it.
While his eyes were cringing to the horror happening to his privates, you take a fist full of his hair and yank his head forward, trying to make a judgement of what he deserved next.
You take your foot off his poor wood, but granting him no relief as you whipped at his chest and exposed thighs. The noises he made through his gag should have at least been enough to crack a smile out of you, but your wrists were still a little red, and when you get angry you're usually one to give them back what they dished out, and sometimes even more when you're feeling generous.
Easing your heel back onto him, having him hold his breath as he doesn't know if you were to stomp at any moment, torturing him with the anticipation as your head was somewhere else.
You havent tried this one thing, though you thought you would have by now. Stepping off again, you go to your closet and place a big enough leash on the poignant bastard and tugging him towards your bed.
You sit at the edge, bending him over your legs, you place a blindfold on him as well, not letting him know what you were about to do.
You grab the bullet, coating it with your spit before sliding it into his ass. The new sensation had him squirm, sensitive to how your fingertips traces the small of his back, he was getting a bit overwhelmed, not being able to see or yell out, much less move his arms still, you plunge the small machine further in him, "As long as its past his prostate." You thought. "I'll push it this time."
Sub!Choso is completely at your mercy, tied up, silences, bent over, whipped over and over, he was loving it. Scared at how quiet you were but this was the level of manhandled he would fantasize about.
It wasn't anything wrong with the way you did it before, but you still cared just a little bit, he felt your hesitation and wanted you to be as free as you wanted, proving right now that you're capable of leaving him bedridden for days.
Sub!Choso who yelps and gurgles through his gag as you turn the vibrator on. You test it out, pulling at the string to slowly bring it closer and closer to his prostate. You sure were going to tease the fuck out of him this way before putting on the strap.
Sub!Choso who lays on you, hugging you as tight as he could while recovering from the beating you gave his contemptible hole.
Sub!Choso who whispers his thanks, his appreciation, his admiration, just loving babble as he slips from this to sleep.
You tell him to shut up as you hold him closer to you.
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libra-cant-just-dance · 11 hours
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Headcanons/Thoughts for Every Main Five Just Dance ship
Obviously I have my favorite but sometimes it’s fun to just think about other ships so I wanted to make a post about ALL of them. For some reason. PS don’t reblog/reply to this with “well actually that one ship sucks and I don’t like it”. As far as we know all of them are the same age and not related so there’s really no reason why any ship is wrong, let people like what they like.
Wanderlust x Jack: I don’t need to rant about them, you all already know. Go read my fanfiction
Wanderlust x Sara: He brings her into this magical world, she loves it and she loves him. It’s a bit cliche but cliches are cliches because they WORK. Also, we know Sara loves the Danceverses, but what if Wanderlust loves Earth? What if he’s got a Little Mermaid thing going on? Imagine Sara showing him around Earth and him being excited by the silliest little things
Wanderlust x Brezziana: They’re both the most energetic ones of the group. Imagine them teaming up on adventures and charging ahead together when the others get tired. Neither of them can always find a friend to keep up with them, but they always have each other
Wanderlust x Mihaly: They’re kind of like two different sides of the Flow? Wander is more energetic and Mihaly’s more chill, so I think they’d balance each other out well. Mihaly gets Wander to slow down every once in a while and appreciate things he’d otherwise miss. Wanderlust shows them how to be more spontaneous and free
Jack x Sara: Sara falls for the bad boy except he’s not actually bad. So much in the Danceverses is bright and crazy and overwhelming, so Jack being more down-to-earth is refreshing for her. Jack loves the way she treats him. Aside from the events of story mode, she doesn’t have the background on Night Swan and Eternyx that the others do, so she doesn’t know his reputation as well. He feels like she really sees him as his own person while everyone else will always remember his mother’s shadow
Jack x Mihaly: I think both of them being the more practical ones of the group could mesh well. We also know Mihaly used to idolize Night Swan in some way, so they both can relate to having wanted to live up to her legacy and now realizing she was wrong. Jack is also always expecting some sort of punishment or consequence if he does something wrong, but Mihaly is so chill about everything that they make him feel like everything’s okay
Jack x Brezziana: Brezziana will drag Jack out of the house to go do stuff when he’s stuck moping around. Theyre SO opposites attract. She’s also ready to stand up for him whenever necessary. Jack will just turn the other cheek to insults and pretend nothing bothers him, but Brezziana won’t let him bottle things up
Sara x Mihaly: Another case of chill vs energetic balancing each other out. I think Mihaly brings Sara to meet Master Panda and he really likes her. What if they try training together to see if Sara is gifted with the Flow like people from the Danceverses are? Again, I feel like Mihaly is also a grounding presence for her amongst the chaos of the Danceverses.
Sara x Brezziana: They go on mall dates a lot! Cute dates where they pick out outfits for each other and try them on. They’re very giggly. They post very cutesy Instagram posts about each other all the time. Connected at the hip when the gang goes out places.
Mihaly x Brezziana: This one’s popular. Again it’s energetic vs chill. Mihaly will often open their home to fourteen texts from Brezziana about something crazy she just did and Mihaly just shakes their head and smiles.
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f-oighear · 14 hours
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The Big Black Clover Fanfic Recommendation Post
I've been talking about making that post since forever and I think I've finally finished compiling them!
So. Grab a notepad. Take out your TBR list. Get ready to bookmark or mark for later. And let's go.
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I guess I should start with a few disclaimers 🫡
I haven't read every fic out there and there are notably a few fics I know I'm going to love but haven't started yet. I think I'll update the post regularly.
The fics on this post are fics I enjoyed and remember having read. considering how many things I forget on a daily basis, it means a lot.
I have my favorite characters, tropes, and themes and this will definitely show.
I'm attempting to organize the fics in categories but ofc some shippy fics also have feels or are angsty or are fluffy, same for the AUs... An attempt is made to organize them based on the vibes I remember (I’ve read some of those literal years ago).
If you're in this post and you think I've put your fic in the wrong category: don't hesitate to reach out!
For the shippy fics, I have my favorite ships but I'm a multishipper sooooo there's that.
I'm recommending oneshots, multichaptered fics, entire AUs, series and fics that are unfinished and probably never will be. Do keep that in mind if you don't like reading abandoned works (you'll be missing out but I can understand).
Let's start! It'll be a long one.
General/Feels/Character studies
💜 Threads, Solarwitchwrites
Vanessa is a stitch witch. She is the best stitch witch of her generation, possibly in an age. But she has one power she doesn’t brag about: she can see the threads of fate that bind destined souls together. It’s rarely been useful, often it’s painful; but sometimes she gets to watch something amazing unfold.
💜 A World Without You, Acacia_May
Vanessa grows concerned for Finral when he begins to act tense and distant after they return from the Forest of Witches. In her attempts to comfort him, however, she may find some comfort of her own.
💜 Teammates, Cour104
Still adjusting to her newfound freedom after escaping from her cage and the Witch Queen, Vanessa has a nightmare. Finral is there to help her through it and remind her that she's no longer alone.
💜 You're Not Alone, IAmStoryteller
For Noelle, there has always been one person in her corner. For Mimosa, there has always been one person that made her want to be better. Noelle Silva and Mimosa Vermillion are cousins, but they are also each other’s greatest support.
💜 It Used To Be So Simple (Once Upon A Time), WildFlowerWoods
A collection of short stories about the childhoods of various Black Bulls, among other things, containing my own headcanons.
💜 fated, orphaned
Some Magic Knights are bonded by something stronger than just kinship. (Charlotte x Yami, Asta x Noelle, Nozel x Vanessa)
💜 Think about it (series), thoughtfullyrainynightmare
This is a collection of short drabbles that exist to give insight to the canon characters presented in Black Clover from my personal perspective. This is about how I see them
AUs
🩷 Black Bulls Pirate AU, Firefutte
An infamous pirate crew sails across the sea's waves. Many rumours and stories exists of this crew. Always one thing they all have in common and that's the tale describing them as chaotic, lawless and crazy hooligans in dire need of mercy from the gods. In reality they're simply living as them, chaotic, lawless and crazy hooligans they may be, but this ship's crew have found a family amongst each other in a world that denied them such comfort for years. And they would have it no other way if you asked them, such is the reality of The Black Bull.
🩷 Mimosa & Noelle Ideale AU, IAmStoryteller
Seven-year-old Noelle and Mimosa run away from home while traveling with their grandparents. Meanwhile, 16-year-old Zora is trying his very best to be a Super-Wizard and takedown corrupt Magic Knights. But one day he runs into two little girls who clearly are nobility, but also who need help. This changes everything.
🩷 Black Bulls Steampunk AU, IAmStoryteller
The Black Bulls Crew is about to officially retire from being sky pirates. After years of working together and becoming a family, they agree that it’s time for one last hurrah to prove that they are the best of the best, especially after they heard about a map for the infamous treasure of Elf King.
🩷 New World, Bulls99
Following a second devastating defeat to Vanica, Noelle expects to die peacefully - painfully, but peacefully. Instead she wakes up in a world where everything seems upside down. But how much is really different?
Romance
❤️ Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor, Supernaturalgrant
“He’s dumb as fuck.” She asserts bluntly. It surprises an honest laugh out of Nozel, which seems to amuse her slightly. “You know that, right?” “I can’t force him to be with me, Mereoleona. Even I am not that high-reaching.” He tells her honestly. Or- Fuegoleon and Nozel break up when Nozel is promoted to the Silver Eagles captain, neither of them really knows why. (Fuegoleon x Nozel)
❤️ Running Out of Time, IAmStoryteller
On the day that elves reincarnated and Zagred the Word-Devil nearly gained a physical body, something went wrong—Zora Ideale and Kirsch Vermillion wind up in a time loop. They have to relive the horrible, long day over and over again, while reluctantly working together to figure out why. (Zora x Kirsch)
❤️ The Clover Kingdom in Chaos: A Dire Tale, Mamavino
Over a month after defeating Lucius Zogratis, new troubles lie ahead. When Sol comes knocking on Yami's door in a panic because Charlotte is missing, he acts indifferent at first. But what happened after their tea-drinking date? And is it true that she has been trapped by a curse again? Yami puts every effort into finding out what happened and sets out to find Charlotte. Noelle Silva falls into a strange sleep. Rouge, Vanessa's cat, is now attached to young Silva's life. Nozel insists on having his sister in the palace. But that also means opening the doors to the Black Bulls. This will certainly provide some challenges. In addition, all the spirits are falling ill, and everyone seems to be in a total panic. Mereoleona, Asta and a small team sets out to seek out the cause and solution to all this. Is it all connected? In the library they will find help, or is it an enemy After all? (Charlotte x Yami, Nozel x Vanessa, Mereoleona x OC, Fuegoleon x OC)
❤️ Night of Vows, Vilandel
She kissed him again, more deeply this time, smiling as she felt him giving in to the kiss. As they parted, she poked his cheek and said with a smirk, “Consider this a vow I just made.” (Nozel x Vanessa)
❤️ wildest dreams (because falling's not the problem), IAmStoryteller
Yuno/Langris/Mimosa series (Yuno x Langris x Mimosa)
❤️ This Was A Mistake, JaylinnW
“You really think this will be a restful break,” the larger man grinned. “You are in for a surprise. You will not be getting much time to relax,” William opened his mouth but Yami stopped him. “I’m not talking about that, Goldie Guts.” He paused, smirking. “Well not only that. I’m talking about the fact that we brought all our idiots with us. I know my bulls- shit’s gonna hit the roof.” “It won’t be that bad I’m sure,” William moved away from his boyfriend to get up from the bed. (William x Yami, minor Nozel x Vanessa)
❤️ Masquerade, IAmStoryteller
The Masquerade Ball hadn't happened in many years in Clover, but that changes when Julius Novachrono decides that it's high time to bring back some old traditions. (Asta x Yuno, Nozel x Vanessa, Finral x Leopold, Magna x Nebra, Fragil x Luck, Zora x Kirsch, Letoile x Gordon, Gauche x Grey, Rill x Charmy)
❤️ Green, Pink, and Grayscale, juviin
Soulmates are a thing of the past, or at least, they should be. So why does the youngest child of the royal Silva family see no colors? (Asta x Noelle)
❤️ Now All My Dreams are Melting on the Asphalt in the Heat, IAmStoryteller
Vanessa Enoteca, the lead singer and guitarist of the Punk band Arresting Dark Weave, is asked by her mentor/friend/first love Yami Sukehiro, the lead guitarist of The Black Bulls, to compose songs for his and Charlotte Roselei’s wedding. Except, she has got to work with Charlotte’s friend Nozel Silva, the First Seat Cello Player of the Clover Kingdom Baroque Orchestra, who just so happens to a composer. Can Vanessa and Nozel create some amazing songs for the Yami/Charlotte wedding in time? Or will it go up in smoke? (Nozel x Vanessa)
❤️ MUSIC CONNECTS ALL, UNLESS IT'S OFF BEAT, orphaned
In Noelle's defense, it was all Kahono's fault. Noelle so happens to be listening to Kahono's rant before she gets into this entire complicated situation that had just happened, (fuck fate, by the way), and now she had dug a hole too deep to get out of. Who the hell was Tchaikovsky, what the hell was a quarter note, and why are there eighty–eight keys on a piano? To think it just started with a simple walk on the beach. (Kahono x Noelle)
❤️ Children of the Future, LightNova
When Yami and Charlotte had been summoned to see the Wizard king they had not been expecting to find out they had a 19 year old daughter from the future! Nor had they been expecting even more children from the future to appear in their world shortly after her. Just what was going on, and who was sending them here and why? (Charlotte x Yami, Finral x Vanessa, Zora x Nebra, Gauche x Grey, Fuegoleon x OC, William x OC, Julius x OC, Yuno x OC, Asta x Noelle)
❤️ I'll Be Home for Christmas, HotaruGFC (JaclynGFC)
Charlotte gets an invitation to a wedding, and she can't go alone. (Charlotte x Yami)
❤️ Oh What Am I Supposed to Do Without You?, Supernaturalgrant
“Mercury poisoning.” The silence that follows Owen's statement is deafening. The occupants of the room share looks of utter confusion. “That’s like saying Fuegoleon has third-degree burns from that cool ass fire arm situation he has going on.” Yami’s the first to break it. Or: Nozel is diagnosed with mercury poisoning and forced to give his magic up until the can find a cure. Chaos ensues. (Fuegoleon x Nozel)
❤️ Paper Hearts, KaLolasFantasyWorld
Helena Drazel is a twenty five year old Royal from Diamond Kingdom. She's a charming and cheerful woman, ready to leave the sheltered embrace of her family's estate. Her mother previously a Clover citizen and an old friend of late Acier Silva, gets her daughter an invitation to study healing magic in the Capital. Because of that friendship Helena is placed under the care of Royal House of Silva. However the siblings, especially the eldest Nozel, are not so fond of her at the beginning. (Nozel x OC)
❤️ Boys will be Embarrassing, loafingdragon, subtleassiduities
A series of stories documenting Fuegoleon and Nozel's totally-not-gay-completely-serious very-manly escapades over the years. (Fuegoleon x Nozel)
❤️ Damn Eyes, musicalinny
The first time their eyes met he doesn't notice that he actually gave a damn. (Zora x Nebra)
❤️ (Not) At first sight, BBRosenfeld
Finesse is bethrothed to the son of the Vaude family, and she doesn't really mind. However, she was not expecting how much he'd grow on her. (Finral x Finesse)
Fluffy, Funny, Fix-it
💚 Flower Crowns, Angeliccharizard
During an off day, Asta decides it's a great idea to bring a devil to a church
💚 Owen vs The Black Bulls, WildflowerWoods
Owen has seen a lot in his time as a doctor in the magic knights infirmary, even more since his promotion to head of the royal infirmary, overseeing both the magic knights and ordinary patients. he has dealt with his fair share of stubborn visitors, people hiding injuries and patients trying to escape out the window—Lord Julius himself was a common offender for the last of those—but even treating Mereoleona Vermillion's self-inflicted burns was better than the Black Bulls. There was nothing that could have prepared Owen for the Black Bulls.
💚 Why Asta (and Liebe) are Banned From the Kitchen, Bluemeanies
After Yami's katana becomes Demon Slicer and joins Asta's grimoire, Asta and Liebe start looking for other things that could be good anti-magic weapons. Liebe might be taking the concept a little too far.
💚 Early Black Bulls (series), Acacia_May
Early Black Bulls Days
💚 An Impossible Decision, MysticalShizz
Mereoleona’s head pops into view, first taking in you, then turning to observe the small girl perched on your hip. Her look of confusion slowly morphs into disbelief, then into incredulity. “Did … Darling. Did you steal the Silva’s youngest child?”  Fix-It fic where Mereoleona and spouse reader adopt Noelle.
💚 Ghosts, IAmStoryteller
Julius has a bit of a secret. He can see ghosts of his dear departed friends.
💚 Doggy Days, Undefeated_Lionmess
Yami sends Vanessa, Finral, and Charmy to explore a dungeon. Only two of them come back still human. Finral supposes he’s had worse days.
💚 That One Time When Julius Was Late, wintermelon_soldier
"We're late... again," Marx said with a worried expression. "Don't worry, Marx. I'm sure everything is just f-" The Magic Emperor pushed both doors open hoping to greet the Captains only to be welcomed by a vast wasteland. The conference room where it once stood is replaced by a large, empty landmass with no trees or building in sight. "W-what in the world is happening?" Marx cried at his mentor.
💚 The Vice-Captains of the Magic Knights (series), IAmStoryteller
The Vice-Captains of the Magic Knights series
💚 Teenagers, Kaitouahiru
Yami was going to talk to Julius about the recruitable age of Magic Knights. Make no mistake, Yami did not care that fifteen year olds were being put in dangerous or life threatening situations. He didn’t care that they could be drafted to go to war if the situation called for it. He cared that almost none of these brats knew how to do basic home skills.
💚 faith bleeds through the cracks, TellNearaToWrite
Yami knew three things. First, that being a squad captain was shaping up to be a lot like fatherhood, and second, he was definitely not cut out for that shit. Third. Well. Julius had a lot to answer for, that was for sure. The least he could do was help a bit.
Angst!
🧡 Geranium, Azuvist
The flowers in Yami's lungs never really stopped growing. (Yami x William)
🧡 Black Clover: The Blood of Fate, ChanceQueen
In a dark alternate universe of the clover kingdom, there is one question that no one ever wanted to ask, let alone know the answer to. A question that wraps its claws around you, ripping scars that cannot be seen and will never heal. What if Vanessa had never manifested the red thread of fate?
🧡 Megicula's Curse by MaryJoeycoco
After everything, the Black Bulls thought they were safe. They thought Noelle took care of the devil Megicula. They soon realize how wrong they were. Now it's up to Asta to save her but he soon realizes how his feelings change about Noelle through the nightmare land. (Asta x Noelle)
The Silva Fics™
Yes, they get their own category. It's the birb siblings. They deserve it.
💙 Artifice, subtleassiduities
When a retrieval mission traps Nozel with a dangerous and powerful artifact, Nebra and Solid struggle to find help before time runs out for him. But their attempts are thwarted by a widespread, rapidly progressing phenomenon: Everybody in the Clover Kingdom is forgetting about Nozel Silva. Their only choice is to depend on one another-- and Noelle, the only other person who can hold onto a memory of their dear brother. Their rescue mission forces them to face their own memories, twisted against them in ways they may not be able to overcome.
💙 Casa Silva, Mouxe (SPANISH)
Conjunto de historias que comenzo para mostrar la relacion de Acier Silva con sus hijos durante la infancia pero termino convirtiendose en relatos de la relacion de los hermanos silva.
💙 Lay Beside Me, Under Wicked Sky, Avacelt
Noelle leaves, and the chips fall where they do. [Silva family!fic, post-canon]
💙 The Boy Who Played with Water, BeamMeUpCas
Nozel only becomes aware of the extreme lengths his siblings were going to torment their youngest when Nebra, of all people, appears sweaty and disheveled in his office, stuttering and stammering about how Solid has Noelle trapped in a water bubble in the rose garden and she isn't moving Or: Solid nearly drowns Noelle. Nozel flips his shit and becomes the halfway decent big brother he was meant to be.
💙 My Father Told Me (series), succulentsunrise
My Father Told Me is a series, which attempts to understand the effects that the Silva parents must have had on their children, and how the age gaps and personalities between the children themselves affected their relationships.
💙 Make an Effort, IAmStoryteller
Solid isn’t very nice or kind or gentle. He knows this, but when he is hit with the realization that Nozel and Nebra might not know that he loves them, he sets out to show his love and appreciation for his two older siblings. And maybe, extend an olive brand or two…
💙 What Yami Saw by BeamMeUpCas
Nozel needs a favor. Yami will maybe not hold it over his head for all eternity but he'll take great delight in letting Nozel think he will.
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masonsystem · 6 months
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literally kagepro has set my bar for fictional dysfunctional sibling relationships so fucking high like where the fuck am i supposed to find something else like this. hello. younger brother who knowingly dooms his entire family bc he wants to save a girl the same way his family had saved him. older sister who tries to save the family in every timeline but only ends up traumatizing them further. older sister who can never seem to stay with her younger siblings. older sister who wants to kill her younger sister to save the rest of them. older sister who kills herself trying to save her family. older sister asking her younger brother, who was formerly abused into lying for his family, to once again lie for his family. older sister who ends up leaving her younger brother alone in the hands of an abuser. younger brother devoting so much of himself to his older sister at the expense of his wellbeing. younger brother using older sister's appearance as a crutch even before she became his sister. younger brother being made to impersonate older sister. younger brother being made to impersonate older sister's corpse. younger siblings running away from home in every timeline after their older sister traumatizes them. younger brother who was a victim of physical abuse enabling younger sister's communication difficulties by goading her into hitting him. two brothers who both know that their family and friends will die this week but not telling one another until its too late, bc they wanted to spare one another of the despair. one brother spilling the truth anyways, but the other brother pretending like he hadnt known all along so he doesnt feel the despair he does. a younger sister who holds the key to saving them all but doesnt know it bc she buried this knowledge with the memories from when she had to kill her father when trying to save her first older sister (she never saves her older sister, neither of them). younger sister forgetting that she made a promise to befriend the other younger sister but still fulfilling that promise in every timeline. and other younger sister in question forfeiting ever becoming a younger sister again bc she fears that her very existence brings about tragedy. but younger brother coaxing her into enacting said tragedy and dooming their family in every timeline anyways. like where can i ever find smth like this. AND WHY is it buried in the worlds most complicated convoluted multimedia vocaloid song franchise ever LIKE?!?!?
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kazamajun · 18 days
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APPARENTLY IT’S INTERNATIONAL FRIENDS DAY AND I JUST HAPPENED TO WRITE A LITTLE FICLET ABOUT MEI AND MK OFF OF AN IDEA I HAD ABOUT THEIR FRIENDSHIP there was more i kinda wanted to add cause it felt slightly off to me and I wasn’t going to post it, BUT HECK IT HAVE SOME BEST FRIENDS CONTENT HAPPY INTERNATIONAL FRIENDS DAY 
Hype Man
Mei didn’t think all that highly of herself for a dragon.
Her parents had tried to instill some of that pride in her, a dragon descendant of oceans, she had a tall standing heritage to be proud of, but it mainly just resulted in her feeling inadequate. Like she could never quite reach as amazing as every other one of her ancestors, all dragons. Something about her felt different, felt wrong. Her family came from the ocean, but Mei felt like she was burning from the inside out some days.
She couldn’t seem to connect with her family the way her parents did, some sort of disconnect there that led her to seek connection elsewhere. She started a bit of a gaming channel, didn’t ever show her face, just mostly chatted, looking for some form of connection. She bought bikes, dismantled them, built new bikes with the parts, she stared at her creations and couldn’t bring herself to show her parents, instead keeping them hidden away, because something so important to her couldn’t possibly be important to the family.
They left her alone for the most part. They were more involved when she was younger, but once she became a legal adult, they did seem to withdraw a bit. She figured they just didn’t want to seem overbearing, but their absences just seemed to make things seem more impossible.
Mei would show them things, talk about her accomplishments quietly at dinner, voice getting meeker and milder once she said them out loud. A couple thousand followers compared to a couple thousand dedicated warriors didn’t seem like much. A few races won compared to hundreds of battles won didn’t feel worth sharing, so she mostly let them talk. If they asked she would just say she was filling her time. Sometimes it felt better to say nothing at all than to mention gaming or racing.
Compared to all of her family, sometimes Mei felt like nothing at all.
Then she met Mk.
He was… silly. A little odd at first. Nothing at all like the tall white and jade pillars of home, or the endless empty hallways. Mk was loud. He was animated. He was waving his hands about and filled every second like a firework, like he could like he didn’t have a moment left to lose.
It was a contagious sort of energy. Mei had always felt a little too energetic herself compared to her composed, poised parents, still and calm in their movements; hopping from foot to foot in place when she was excited compared to their subtle nods of their heads. But next to Mk it felt natural to bounce around a bit, talk loud, laugh louder.
He was a little jumpy at first. Something she wasn’t sure she wanted to look too far into considering what it might’ve been, but after an initial stiffness Mk relaxed into contact like a cat soaking up the warmth of the sun. Throwing an arm over his shoulder became almost as easily as breathing.
If Mei didn’t know any better, she’d say he was a little touch starved, leaning into every shoulder bump after he was more comfortable around her, seeking her out for a hug even when he wouldn’t outright hug her first until later.
She made sure to maybe hug a little more than she usually would, just because it seemed to make him smile and a little giddy, and soon that too felt just as natural, and she couldn’t help the breathless grin when he slammed into her to initiate a hug for the first time. And from then on, hugging him, holding his hand, bumping into him, felt natural.
As comfortable as she was around Mk, Mei still didn’t talk about herself all that much. After all, what was a new drifting turn trick in a race compared to turning into an actual dragon?
She did eventually let something slip.
“Wait, you're a gamer?”
Mei halted and stared at him like a deer in headlights.
Mk backtracked immediately. “I mean--I know you, like, game, like pshh, yeah obviously, we’re literally in the arcade right now. But I meant more like, gaming like, consols, VR, all that fancy stuff, and like, streaming it, you said you had a livestream--I mean you might not even be a gamer, that could have been a different kind of livestream, which in that case, this is kinda awkward and now I’m going to apologize for assuming--”
“No no,” she waved her hands a bit, then stopped and let them drop. “It’s… uh… yeah it’s a gaming channel.”
Then the enormously unexpected. “That’s so cool.”
It was?
Mei blinked. He knew she was a dragon and thought… gaming was still cool?
“How many followers do you have?” He was looking at her so excitedly, she couldn’t exactly not tell him, but it still felt weird to say it aloud.
“Uh, I dunno, like… 80k… I think? Last time I checked?”
Mk gaped at her.
“I mean it’s a big city,” she felt the need to add. She knew so many channels with millions of followers, her’s honestly wasn’t that big in comparison. “Lots of people watch streamers, so it’s not… like a super high number but--”
Then he was shaking her, hands on her shoulders and pulling her back and forth. “80k? Mei that’s so freaking cool, that’s so many followers--ohmegosh wait, what if I follow you already?”
“Cool?” Mei stammered out.
“Um yeah!” He said it like the most obvious thing in the world. He was pulling out his phone that had a Monkey King charm hanging from it and an art piece decorating the back of the case. “What’s your channel? I wanna see if I’ve watched you before.”
He had, as it turned out, been subscribed to her channel for around two years.
“Mei,” he whined, clinging to her arm.
“What,” she laughed for the twelfth time.
“Mei you don’t understand, you’re so good at video games. You’re so funny and clever, you’re so cool, how do I know such a cool person. How is this legal? How am I meant to survive?”
It made her laugh hard enough her face turned a little red.
“I’m not that cool,” she told him fondly as she got on her bike.
“YOU DRIVE A MOTORCYCLE?”
“Um…” she glanced down at her helmet, then back up at him. “Yes?”
He grabbed her face and bonked their foreheads together, squishing her cheeks. “Mei, I need you to be real with me for a second.”
“O-okay?” she managed to say, voice a little muffled by the way her face was being squished.
“I need you to tell me you didn’t build this.”
She blinked.
He stared directly into her eyes.
“Um…”
Then he was back to shaking her. “Mei. Mei you don’t understand, how are you this cool?”
“It’s just a bike--” she tried to say.
“Just the coolest looking bike I’ve ever seen,” Mk said, even louder.
“Okay, okay,” she laughed, pulling her face out of his hands. There was a heat to her cheeks and a warmth to core of her chest. She looked away. “Okay, so it’s kinda cool.”
“Extremely cool,” he corrected.
“Extremely cool,” Mei amended. “I actually did some repairs this morning after yesterday’s race--”
She stopped short at the look on his face.
“What?”
Mk put his hands together in a praying motion, pressed them against his mouth, crouched down next to her bike, one leg stretched out, leaning back on the other and looked up at her.
Mei leaned away from him a little, nervously laughing. “What?”
He inhaled.
“BOI--”
“So, let me see if I got this all right,” he said after the bike ride to Pigsy’s noodles. His hair was a mess after wearing her helmet all the way there, sticking up in every direction, some of it smooshed against his head in odd shapes, and his cheeks still flushed from whooping so loudly and screaming at sharp turns. Mei nodded along, stirring the ice in her soda bought from the vending machine down the street with her straw. “You’re a dragon.”
“Correct.”
“Like a literal descendant of the Dragon of the West, a direct descendant of the White Horse Dragon in Journey to the West…”
“Yup,” Mei said, ending the word with a pop and then leaning down a bit to sip from her soda.
“You have a million subscribers--”
“Not a million yet.”
“A million subscribers,” he said again, stressing the words and widening his eyes, as though daring her to argue, then sat back in his seat, waving his hand and gesturing to himself. “Of which, yours truly is proud to be one.” He slammed his hands down on the table. “Which is for good reason since you’re one of the best gamers out there--”
“I’m not even in the top hundred, Mk.”
“Only because every other streamer shows their face which adds to the experience of watching them game.” He aggressively slurped up some noodles before continuing.
“Not only that but you’re a freaking racer. You race a bike which you built yourself.”
Mei hummed around her straw, looking away tapping her fingers on her phone lightly, a heat to her face.
“And on top of all that you destroy arcade games like you’re going for a walk in the park.” He finally slumped back in his seat. “Did I get all that?”
Mei tapped her staw against the edge of her cup and slurped up the bits of soda from the bottom of the straw. “Yup.”
He went limp as a noodle and slumped all the way down, sliding until she could only see his hair, his knees bumping into hers.
“You’re so cool, Mei,” he whined. “Why are you so cool? I’m like… I deliver noodles.”
She laughed and lightly bumped her leg against his. “Hey, delivering noodles is cool.”
“You built yourself a motorcycle,” he hissed back.
She found herself grinning. “Okay, so it is… pretty cool.”
He popped back up just so he could slam his hands down on the table again. “Extremely cool.”
“Extremely cool,” she grinned wider.
And that… was kinda how things went.
Mei did a new trick on her bike? Mk was there across the street in the empty stands yelling about how cool it looked.
Mei beat own high score on an arcade game? He was right there jumping up and down.
When Mei hit a million subscribers she was racing to Mk’s apartment above the noodle shop in the middle of the night to tell him about it before she could even think about how a million subscribers was nothing next to a million subjects in a kingdom, and Mk opened the window with his Monkey King themed pajamas and was awake in seconds to squeal with her.
Her ancestry was still a massive thing to try and live up to, and something that was still immensely important to her. And although her accomplishments now seemed like nothing compared to their great feats… every dragon started somewhere. And right now, winning that race was a big feat, because it was her feat. Something she did.
Even if she wasn’t a full fledged dragon, Mk was right there next to her to remind her of just how amazing she was.
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