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nyxronomicon · 9 months

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pudding

Diavolo x MC (GN pronouns / MC has a vagina)

a/n: I wrote most of this shortly after reading the lunatic pudding devilgram in the OG!OM app. in fact I distinctly remember getting stuck on the sex part bc i didn't really write smut yet... look at how far I've come lmao <- exclusively writes smut now

tw: breeding kink, aphrodisiac, size kink (Diavolo's big cock once again), mating press, rough sex, Diavolo goes a lil feral, a little bit of nipple play, fingering, oral (MC receiving)

The adrenaline from running from demons all afternoon wore off as you and Diavolo settled in his room. He’d locked the door behind himself before turning around to face you.

"That was quite the chase." He said, keeping his distance from you now that you were in private together.

"I can't believe how potent one bite of lunatic pudding was." You responded, shaking a little. You looked at Diavolo, remembering he's not immune. "What about you, not feeling very romantic?" You smirked.

Diavolo chuckled. "Don't test me. I'm at my limits of self restraint." He smiled nervously. He fidgeted a moment, realizing he needed to protect you until the effects wore off. Even across the room your scent became harder to resist with every passing second. And he still had 23 hours to go.

"Thank you, Lord Diavolo." You took a seat on his couch.

"It's no trouble at all." Diavolo responded, stepping closer to you. You watched him carefully, there was something different about him, as if the royal facade was gone and he was himself. Come to think of it, this was the first time you were alone with him. "I need to freshen up- don't hesitate to call if anything happens." Diavolo stepped into the master bathroom as you nodded back to him.

23 more hours. It was all you could think about. Your secret crush on the prince had your heart racing at the possibilities. What were you going to do for 23 hours in Diavolo's bedroom…? You knew exactly what was on his mind. It was on yours too, if you were being honest, but you didn’t want him to do anything he would regret with you. So, you busied yourself thinking of something to distract him.

"Want to listen to music?" You smiled, pulling him out of his dark fantasies. "If you close your eyes maybe it'll keep your mind off- uh…"

Meanwhile, Diavolo splashed water on his face. His thoughts raced as he looked at himself in the mirror. I have to control myself. I can’t succumb to my desires. How would it look if I took advantage of an exchange student? He shook his head as if that would cure his sinful thoughts and exited the bathroom.

His resolve shattered the moment he saw you again, his mind stuck on how easy it would be to overpower you, a mere human.

He chuckled at your hesitation. "The intense attraction I have for you?" He said, sitting on one of the accent chairs on either side of the couch. Diavolo had his doubts about your plan, mostly because it was your intoxicating scent that was giving him the most trouble.

Your face felt flush. "Uh, yeah…" you laughed nervously. "I'll play something. Stay there."

"I'm not one of those brothers you can command, you know." He smiled, watching you move as you flipped through his vinyls. "But if you wanted to-" he caught himself and stopped, blush dusting his cheeks. You looked back at him, catching his golden eyes for a moment before he looked away.

"If I wanted to… what?" You gave him a coy smile before turning back to the records. You were surprised to find your favorite musician in his collection and put it on the player.

"Ignore me, that was the pudding…" he said, still blushing as the record began to play.

"Close your eyes." You commanded, testing his unfinished words. He looked at you a moment before closing his eyes with a soft smile.

"I'm not doing this because you told me to." Diavolo clarified. "I'm doing this because I want to know if it helps." He remained frozen in his seat.

You quietly walked closer to him and admired the handsome demon. Your eyes trailed from his jawline down his neck. His well tailored uniform left a lot to your imagination but you had plenty of time to undress him with your eyes. 23 hours, to be exact. You leaned on the side of the couch closest to Diavolo as you studied his strong hands. You could practically feel them running up and down your body.

As the first song ended, Diavolo's eyes slowly opened and caught you looking at him. "I thought you came closer." He had a darker intensity to him. "I hope you weren't thinking about trying anything."

"Why, were you?" You shot back at him with a grin, matching his intensity.

He smiled and buried his face in his hand. "Of course I was. I still am." His face remained in his palm. The record continued to play as the two of you paused, afraid to say what was on your minds.

"What if…" you hesitated, knowing this was not something you could take back after saying it. "What if… I want you to try something?" Diavolo's fingers clawed into his hair, keeping his face hidden.

When he didn’t respond, you spoke again. “Diavolo… I… have a crush on you.” He chuckled before a brief pause, the weight of your words heavy in the air.

"The truth is…" he began, "I had trouble resisting you without the pudding." Heat rushed to your face as he peeked at you through his fingers. You stared at each other with desire. “You’re making this very hard for me…”

Diavolo took a deep breath. His mind was screaming at him to fuck you. He knew he could overpower you, it was all he could think about. And now, it seemed that was exactly what you wanted. But he couldn’t shake the thought of how improper it would be. He stood and turned to walk to the balcony for some fresh air, stopped by your hand catching his wrist.

He froze. He wanted you so bad. There was no telling how much of it was his natural attraction to you and how much was the pudding’s effect, but Diavolo’s thoughts were consumed with you. How he wanted his hands on your body. His teeth on your skin. And god, what he would give to fill you with his cum so thoroughly that you’d carry his heir…

These thoughts had occurred to him in passing, he’d even jerked off to the idea before but this was so much different. He could normally distract himself, but everything that came to mind was you. He needed to fuck you. Maybe that was the answer- maybe it would dull the pudding’s effect.

He felt his eyes darken with desire, desperately attempting to calm himself down.

The two of you were frozen there for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, his fingers loosened and slowly intertwined with yours. He turned around, you could see the darkness in his champagne eyes. He looked demonic. He suddenly pulled you toward him until your faces were inches from each other. His free hand trailed up your arm at a glacial pace. It gave you goosebumps. Finally, it settled on your cheek.

"Is it ok if I stop restraining myself?" He whispered, lips brushing against yours as he waited for a response. You could tell his muscles were tense, like this gentleness was taking all of his self control to maintain.

"... yes-" you barely had time to finish saying the word before his lips crashed into yours. He was ravenous. His tongue grazed your lips and you parted them, allowing him to explore your mouth. It was electric. He dropped your hand and suddenly pulled you tightly against him by the hips, his other hand remaining on your jaw. He deepened the kiss and you lost yourself in a haze of desire, hands gripping his uniform.

He slowed his movements and hesitated before pulling away. His fiery gaze met yours, still gripping you tightly. “... fuck.” He mumbled before dropping his head to your shoulder. He nuzzled you for a moment before gently kissing your neck. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this…” His voice was low and sultry. “One bite of pudding... and I’ve completely lost control…” He peppered kisses on your neck between thoughts. “I wonder…” He started slowly unbuttoning your uniform. “What will my subjects think?”

Heat rose in your body as he continued to unbutton. “Do they have to know?” You whispered. Diavolo did not respond as he pushed your shirt open, exposing your chest. He sucked on your collarbone to leave his mark while running his hands over your torso.

When he was satisfied with the bruise left, he brought his lips to your ear. “I guess not.” He whispered then sucked on your earlobe. You let out a moan which made him chuckle. “I love that sound…” He said, nuzzling into you again. He pulled away and swept you into his arms to carry you to his bed. He sat you on the edge and admired you for a moment. “Are you sure this is ok?” He asked, lust burning in his eyes.

“I want you, Diavolo.” You responded, finally slipping your uniform jacket off. Diavolo helped you remove your top completely and pushed you back onto the bed. He crawled on top of you, pinning your hands down with his as he locked you in another kiss. He was needy and desperate, it seemed the effects of the pudding were only getting more intense.

Diavolo sat up and urgently began unbuttoning his shirt. You tried to sit up with him but he pushed you back down.

“Don’t move.” He said, removing his shirt and undershirt revealing his muscles. He leaned over you again, caging you against the bed. One hand drifted to your neck, holding it firmly as he tangled his tongue with yours again. You trailed your fingers along his bare chest, pinching his nipples as he groaned in response.

“Two can play at that game.” He growled, trailing kisses down your chest until he reached a nipple. He flicked it with his tongue, watching it harden before enclosing his lips around it. You moaned and bucked your hips. As Diavolo’s mouth worked your nipple, his fingers rubbed your arousal through your pants. He unfastened them as he trailed kisses further down. Diavolo looked up at you for a moment, his golden eyes looking into yours as he removed your pants. He bit his lip as if asking for permission. You gave him a silent nod.

Diavolo started rubbing your pussy, simultaneously appreciating its beauty. You leaned your head back and quietly moaned. This encouraged him to use his mouth to pleasure you, pressing his tongue against your clit. As Diavolo slipped his fingers in your cunt, your moaning became louder and more erratic. He was stretching you to fit his throbbing cock.

“Diavolo… feels so good…” You moaned. He allowed himself to be rougher, gripping your hips to keep you from squirming in pleasure. His tongue swirled around your clit and he could feel your walls shudder around his fingers, your wet pussy nearly ready for his length. He stuck another finger in for good measure, finding your g-spot as you moaned his name.

His fingers slid out and he smirked at you. “My turn.” He said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He stood, tugging you by the legs to the edge of the bed. You watched as he removed his belt, then his pants, then his boxers. His huge cock sprung up, eager to feel you.

Diavolo positioned your ankles on his shoulders as he lined himself up with your pussy. You felt the tip slowly push in, your body adjusting to his size. You could feel the stretch- it was a tight fit, but as he bottomed out inside you, it made you feel so satisfyingly full.

“So big…” You murmured.

“You like that, hm?” He chuckled, leaning over you and folding you into a mating press. He began to thrust, the friction reminding you of how good he was making you feel earlier. Moans dripped from your lips as his pace increased. Diavolo’s last shreds of self-control had disappeared, he was now fucking you completely recklessly.

“Fuck… Dia…” You panted, feeling your cunt tighten around him as he continued.

“Gonna… put a baby in you…” He growled, capturing you in a rough kiss as your knees hit your chest. His cock was pounding you so hard, all you could do was whimper as his tongue slid into your mouth. The effects of the pudding made Diavolo forget all about your pleasure, his relentless pace quickening as he neared his orgasm.

“Been waiting for this… so long…” Diavolo mumbled, each thrust of his hips threatening to push you over the edge. “Want to breed you… Make you mine…” His dick rammed into your g-spot so precisely, finally you felt the wave of pleasure shooting through your body. You felt yourself tighten around him, shockwaves of ecstasy turning you into a blubbering mess as his orgasm followed shortly after.

Diavolo growled and moaned. You could feel the cum filling you, the added pressure in your cunt only sending more aftershocks through you. He thrust a few more times, cum sputtering out in waves as you both came down from your high. Breathing heavily, you pushed his sweaty bangs out of his face as his gaze lost the demonic aura he had moments before.

You were slow to catch your breath, Diavolo unmoving on top of you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his cock still lodged inside you. You ran your fingers through his hair.

“I’m afraid that didn’t help.” Diavolo sighed after a long pause. “I want you even more now.” You felt his cock twitch inside you, still rock hard.

“Well,” You smirked. “We still have 22 hours to kill.”

#obey me smut #obey me diavolo #diavolo x mc #diavolo x reader #obey me fanfiction #diavolo smut #it was nice to write Diavolo again tbh i missed him lol #it's like he was designed in a lab for me...

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hanrinz · 1 year

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ HOLD ME TIGHT — RIN ITOSHI.

wherein rin finds so many excuses just to hold your hands.

rin likes holding your hands a lot, a gesture you haven't noticed much because of the excuses he has accompanying it. you think it was really nice of him, offering you to take his hands like you're the one who needs it.

but, now that reo had pointed out whenever you were all together, your boyfriend's hands never leaving yours.

wanting to test what your friend has told you, looking out for the times rin would hold your hands.

one.

you went to a carnival, having him drag here with you as you excitedly enter, your eyes now shimmering like a kid going to the playground for the very first time and rin only smiles at you.

you were quick on your feet, already trailing off to the stalls, the carnival could offer. almost vanishing from the sea of people, rin was quick to follow you and grab a hold of hands. muttering about something like, “you might get lost” or “don't go off running like that” realizing this was your boyfriend's way of having to hold your hand, even though he fully knows well, he's gonna find you anyway.

a laugh escapes your lips, you reply to him with an “okay, rinnie,” as you let rin drag you to the stalls you like. your boyfriend was cute.

two.

you were simply out shopping for groceries, a routine you have developed over the months of living together. as you walk to the store, rin suddenly asks you.

“are your hands cold?”

oh, how convenient...

your hands are cold, yes. but the way rin looks at you and your hands made you smile, your boyfriend was a schemer, cunning and full of deceit but, that's okay. you like how he's finding ways in holding your hands, you wonder if he'll run out of excuses soon.

you only smile at him, nodding as you play coy from his acts. his hands were warm, you can't really complain, when he holds your hand like this, swinging it a little from how giddy you feel.

“what are you smiling for?”

“nothing~” you sing-song, he raises a brow in suspicion, but was quick to let it go, thinking of nothing much about it, just you being you.

three.

rin doesn't call your name, when he likes to show you something. no, he doesn't. even though it is much more convenient having to call you over than making the effort in looking for you and dragging you by your hands.

“c’mere, saw that book you've been talking about the past week,” he said, leading you up to where he found it. and the wide grin you have in your face was his reward for having to find you. you squeeze his hands and hug him, giving a kiss on his cheeks as you start gushing on how much you've been looking for this book everywhere and he listens to you, with an undivided attention.

you almost forgot about your mission, but when you walk home with rin, with him interlacing his hands all naturally with yours, you couldn't help, but to feel all too happy with your day with him.

and by the fourth time, rin holds your hand, you have decided to confront him.

you were now both studying in his room, a small table was set up, with papers and books all stacked up and a little placed messily, but you don't mind.

as you feel a hand taking up yours, you look up from the material you were studying. you see rin reading with so much concentration, like he hasn't noticed how his hands come to seek yours, rubbing circles with his thumbs.

“you know, you can always hold my hands without excuses right, rin?” you asked, with a teasing smile hanging on your lips.

rin looks at you from his material and to your interlaced hands. to say he was kind of panicking on the inside, did you finally catch on? he sure hopes you do, he's running out of things to say just to hold your hands, he thinks.

“you need to hold my hands to read your textbook?” you tease at him.

“helps me concentrate,” he snorts, as he squeezes your hands.

“concentrate?” you giggle at his excuse once again, “okayyy, whatever you say, rinnie,” you squeeze back, returning your attention to studying, a smile making its way to your face.

maybe this would be your new motivation to study well.

◞♡ so sorry my mind just shut down for this </3 likes & reblogs are highly appreciated!

#roses ‘r rosie #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi fluff #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock fluff #blue lock #rin itoshi x y/n #bllk x reader #bllk x you

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 23 days

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Love is Stored in the Cat: A Nepeta Leijon Character Study

I guess these are a series now! I also have a request for Feferi in my inbox that I'll get around to eventually.

SO! Dear, sweet Nepeta.

Nepeta is the troll that is most against the existence of the hemocaste.

I believe the Ultimate Self speech was originally going to be from her, not Davepetasprite^2.

She's bad at shipping.

These all make her extremely impurrtant!!!

So furst of all, I'm going to start with the same disclaimer as my Eridan essay (go read that first!!! It sets up a lot of ideas that I'm expanding on here), which is that the things Hussie says are going to be lowered in value, because he likes to play coy about plot stuff. I'm also not counting anything but the actual text as canon, and even with in that text, I'm counting everything after GAME OVER as soft canon - a suggestion of what would have been, often truncated for time, often a deliberate middle finger to the shitty fandom.

Okay, so with that squared away!

Nepeta Says Fuck The Hemocaste

I'm not going to bother doing a deep dive on Nepeta's characterization, because fur the most part, I think the fandom more or less gets her right - she wears her heart (h33h33) on her sl33ve, after all! She's a very sweet little catgirl who loves roleplay and shipping, who is also a vicious hunter of wild beasts and lives in a cave. She's very nice and friendly, but has a tough streak and a spine.

She also says fuck the hemocaste, why does that even exist:

CT: D --> Your fraternization with the base classes have 100sened your morals, can't you see this AC: :33 < no! i dont care, they are fun AC: :33 < and i dont know anything about classes or bases or blood color, it doesn't matter! AC: :33 < what does gr33n blood even mean! it doesnt mean anything to me and it shouldnt mean anything to anyone else!

This is a radical stance not outright shared by any of the other trolls. Aradia calls highbloods "hateful sn0bs" that she and Tavros shouldn't have "ever had anything t0 d0 with", the highbloods are, of course, all casteist to varying degrees, and even Karkat seems fairly accepting of the class divide, at one point taunting Vriska that her rejection from the blue team is "ANOTHER INFURIATING VICTORY FOR GUTTER BLOOD OVER ARISTOCRACY". Not to mention his long-held dream of becoming a threshecutioner.

Even Feferi, despite saying to Eridan that "W-E AR-E NOT B-ETT-ER T)(AN ANYBODY!!!!!", is actually perfectly comfortable with the caste system's existence, comparing having to stop using her royal typing quirk to "peasant-IFICATING" herself - and let's not forget that a Beforus under her rule had its caste system 100% intact.

This means that Nepeta is the ONLY troll who has said, in no uncertain terms, that the caste system should not exist. It's stupid, it's bad, and it doesn't meowtter!

AND SHE'S RIGHT.

But she's never able to fully express this opinion, which brings us to:

A COMPLICKATED RELATIONSHIP WITH EQUIUS

Now, before I say anything, I must insist that I do believe these two work as good moirails. That does not, however, stop them from being 13, and therefore, being poor to each other the way 13-year-olds sometimes are. I don't think they should break up; I think they should re-examine certain dynamics, and I think they need some space to breathe apart from each other.

Equius has a lot of problems, which I won't get into overmuch here, because... that's a whole essay on its own (are you people seeing a trend yet). But with regards to Nepeta specifically, he's extremely controlling and protective, to the point where she's a little scared of him before the game begins:

AC: :33 < well it does sound like it will be a lot of fun but i think i should get purrmission first GC: BL4R!!!!! GC: TH4TS SO STUP1D GC: H3S NOT TH3 BOSS OF YOU AC: :33 < i know! AC: :33 < but still im kind of scared of him and i think purrhaps its best to just run it by him first so there isnt a kerfuffle about it or anything

She's also afraid to tell him about her crush on Karkat, since she knows he doesn't like Karkat:

AC: :33 < well AC: :33 < i have never told anybody this not even my moirail AC: :33 < heh, actually hes the LAST guy i might tell, he so wouldnt appurrve X33 AC: :33 < but yes i have liked somebody for quite some time, but alas he doesnt know it

By the time they end their game, she's gotten over this fear, seeing as she spends many hours curled up with Equius in a pile of robotics parts, but it still must be noted that they have some issues in their relationship that were never resolved, primarily on Equius's end. What this means for Nepeta, however, is that in addition to setting her up as the most outright anti-classism troll, the comic sets her up to be socially isolated due to her moirail's paranoia about letting her associate with both lowbloods (seeing them as bad influences) OR other highbloods, seeing them as dangerous.

He's not entirely wrong - his refusal to allow her to participate in FLARP kept her from winding up entangled in the horrible chain of revenge, as Tavros alludes:

AT: iT'S PROBABLY FOR THE BEST, AT: tHAT YOU LISTEN TO HIM, AC: :33 < i dont know AC: :33 < you think so? AT: wELL, AT: iF YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO HIM BEFORE, AT: yOU MIGHT HAVE PLAYED GAMES WITH US BEFORE, AT: aND SOMETHING BAD MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU, AC: :33 < hmm purrhaps

But he's still wrong. And it's probably an uncontrolled manifestation of his Heir of Void abilities - he's both consciously and unconsciously hiding her from other people.

This isn't to say she doesn't stand up for herself! Many of her discussions with Equius are pseudo-arguments, and she does get her way often enough, managing to get him to roleplay with her, and managing to get him back in the roboti% pile to talk about his feelings about Aradia. She also talks to the humans explicitly against Equius's orders, although she's keeping it a sneakret from him:

NEPETA: :33 < but equius already furbid me from doing that :(( NEPETA: :33 < not that i am listening to him, but shhhhh! :33 KARKAT: WAIT, HE DID? KARKAT: OK, THEN AS YOUR LEADER I ORDER YOU TO RP WITH THEM AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. BE AS OBNOXIOUS ABOUT IT AS YOU CAN. NEPETA: :33 < yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

But the fact that she has to tiptoe around him like this speaks to them having issues in their relationship that go unexamined and unresolved, especially since it's clear that Nepeta really would like to be friends with more people, were Equius not getting in her way. So, even though I do think they are good moirails for each other - they clearly genuinely, deeply care about one another. But they could use some relationship counselling.

In fact, Jasprosesprite^2 outright calls her lonely:

JASPROSESPRITE^2: Or the girl who likes ships! Cause they made her less lonely. ;3

So, she's anti-hemocaste and lonely, two character traits that were set up and never resolved. And beclaws this is Nepeta, in her honor, I'm going to talk about a third:

Her Unrequited Crush On Karcat

She has the BIGGEST flushed crush on Karkat. It's seen on her shipping wall twice, once with the word OTP on it.

And, despite never discussing it with her moirail, Nepeta mentions it once to Jaspersprite, and once to Jasprosesprite^2.

Now, I'm not really here to debate on the validity of KatNep - I think it's fine, even if I don't personally ship it, and don't personally think it would work out (there are lots of indications that they wouldn't work out, including Jasprosesprite^2 outright saying so). However, her crush on Karkat is both complicated and creates some interesting setups for her character. I am going to discuss it fairly critically either way, so KatNep shippers have been warned.

A lot of her feelings about Karkat - and about shipping in general - wind up being heavily interlinked with her status as a Hero of Heart, so I'm going to expand on it more there. But what I will note in this section is the fact that, despite Nepeta insisting twice that she doesn't think Karkat knows about her crush on her:

NEPETASPRITE: :33 < it was karkat NEPETASPRITE: :33 < but i never told him and im pretty sure he never found out how i felt!

He tooootally did:

KARKAT: OK, BUT TO BE FAIR, I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S STILL OBSESSED WITH ME. KARKAT: IT'S A VERY UNFORTUNATE, VERY RED AND VERY UNREQUITED SITUATION I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TIPTOE AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, OK?

Interpret that how you will for shipping purposes, but I want to propose that this is a reflection of their statuses as Heart and Blood players. Heart, despite its players' obsessions with romance, is not the romance aspect, Blood is. Karkat displays this very same romantic acumen when he tells Dave that he's known Terezi and Gamzee were a thing for a long time, despite everyone else on the meteor trying to keep it a secret from him. Heart is, instead, about identity, feelings, motivations, souls, and self. In other words:

Nepeta Is Kind Of Bad At Shipping

Let's take a look at those shipping walls.

Let's break this down a little. Nepeta's ships are not entirely wrong, but even the successful ones are kind of wrong. Here's what I mean. We've already discussed how Equius and Nepeta's moirallegiance has some... issues in it. If we go down her list of ships that actually do happen, most of them have some issues in them!

Aradia expresses her regret for getting together with Equius in the Ministrife. Kanaya and Rose suffer some major relationship problems when Rose starts drinking, to the point Karkat feels a need to step in as an auspice. Karkat and Gamzee fail, as Karkat is not calmed by Gamzee, and Gamzee stops listening to Karkat. And while Sollux and Feferi seem to be fairly healthy, after they both wind up in the Furthest Ring, he's pretty much always next to Aradia - he and Feferi don't even get to exchange words with each other once they're in the Furthest Ring. Purrsonally, I think he and Feferi are meant to end up as moirails, but shhhh.

So what's happening here? Well, this goes back to her identity as a Heart player. Heart is concerned with feelings and motivations.

They simply want to understand the one thing we all are stuck with for our entire lives, i.e. our own minds. Forging an identity is extremely important to the Heart-bound, and every decision and action goes toward building a coherent narrative of their own story. That isn't to say Heart-bound don't care deeply for their friends and allies; they just have a tendency to assume that everyone is as concerned with identity as they are.

Nepeta's shipping has also been associated with her isolation and loneliness. When you put this together, it implies that Nepeta's shipping is about her desire to understand others, and much of her ships are based on one of the parties having feelings, regardless of compatibility, feasibility, or broader implications. After all, despite the fact that she has pretty terrible romantic acumen, she IS able to instinctively identify that Eridan's advances toward her were insincere:

NEPETASPRITE: :33 < well ok i guess eridan hit on me a few times NEPETASPRITE: :33 < but his advances always struck me as cr33py and insincere

And that Karkat secretly LOVES and RESPECTS his friends:

JASPROSESPRITE^2: On the contrary Nepeta. You deserve someone who will RESPECT and ADORE you. NEPETASPRITE: :33 < well... yes NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i always hoped to find someone like that some day NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i dunno maybe youre right but in spite of whatever problems he might have i always felt like i saw something in him that made me think he could be that purrson!

Or knowing that Equius loves to play games, and still feels sad about Aradia exploding:

AC: :33 < i s33 right through your stupid act, who are you trying to kid! AC: :33 < look how you go out of your way to use words that have x's in them so that you can use your silly purrcent signs AC: :33 < or use these absurd words that you can shoehorn a '100' into, even if its not strictly replacing 'loo'!!! AC: :33 < you are so transpurrent AC: :33 < i can tell you like to play games, d33p down you are a guy who likes to play games! AC: :33 < i can smell a guy who likes to play games from so fur away with this nose, you have no idea X33

NEPETA: :33 < she was so happy, just like she used to be, and she said she would s33 you soon! EQUIUS: D --> That's a nice thought, and thank you for sharing it EQUIUS: D --> But it was only a dream, and will surely have no consequence in reality NEPETA: :33 < equius? NEPETA: :33 < are those f33lings i an detecting with my wiggly whiskery nose? EQUIUS: D --> Maybe

Because feelings, and not relationships, are her actual domain.

And speaking of Heart powers...

Nepeta and the Ultimate Self

So from this point forward, I'm going to assume you're more or less agreeing with my take that at some point after Game Over, Hussie - for whatever reason - gave up on his original ending, and wound up truncating his ideas so he could finish the comic faster. I go more into detail about that here.

So, in this hypothetical original ending, I firmly believe that the speech about the Ultimate Self would have come from Nepeta. First, let's take a look at what the "Ultimate Self" entails, as it appears within the comic:

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < everything that ever happens to every version of you is an important part of your ultimate self... like a superceding bodyless and timeless persona that crosses the boundaries of paradox space and unlike god tiers or bubble ghosts or whatever, it really IS immortal DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but in your physical form there are all these partitions in your mind that prevent you from remembering any of that which makes your existence f33l totally linear DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < which is probably for the best! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < in a regular body s33ing all that would be too overwhelming ... DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and after it sinks in for a while you start coming to this understanding of a greater self DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < maybe i "got it" quicker though because of the two people i was and their aspects DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < understanding heart is all about the nuances of a distributed self DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < nepeta never got to make much headway with her aspect but shes finally gettin the chance DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < the time aspect is all about running into different versions of yourself so you kinda get confronted with it in a really literal way that can be disturbing DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < obviously davesprite stuggled with that too, but now its fine DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < hes fr33 from worrying about it all and what it means for his place in reality DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < because he can s33 now all his selves have relevance in painting the full picture of who he truly is DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < im not COMPLETELY sure because im not like some sort of ASPECT MASTER but DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < my avian slash feline intuition tells me that all roads will lead you here eventually DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < gaining the d33pest possible understanding of any aspect will bring you to the same final conclusion about your ultimate self

Now, I believe - and I hope you'll agree - that it's kind of lame, narratively, for Davesprite to have been set up with so much angst about not being the "real Dave," and for Nepeta to have all her issues with loneliness and shyness, and for these two specific iterations of each other to have never interacted, but suddenly getting double-prototyped fixes all of their problems, and they achieve Ultimate Selfhood despite being two total strangers to each other. So let's instead break down the more salient points about what Ultimate Selfhood entails, divorced from the fact that it's Davepetasprite^2 doing the narrating:

Every player in the game possesses an "Ultimate Self," an ultimate culmination of all their experiences and memories, specifically referred to as a "persona"

Normally, people are not aware of this, because it would be too overwhelming to deal with so many memories and iterations of each other.

Everyone will achieve Ultimate Selfhood eventually as the final culmination of their understanding of their aspect.

Heart is all about the nuances of a distributed self.

Let's talk about that last one some more, and by that I mean, let's see what Calliope has to say about it:

TT: I don't know why it had to be this way for me. Juggling these two waking selves at once. TT: I guess I'm used to it, but it still makes for a pretty intense existence. TT: Do you even know what the deal with that is? Like is there any precedent in your readings? UU: i don't know aboUt precedent, bUt it makes plenty of sense to me as the type of path one might expect for a hero of heart. UU: a path rUled by the heart aspect can be a joUrney of splintered self. UU: that is, the player's being may exhibit the same kind of fragmentation which certain classes coUld caUse in others. UU: i think this is what has triggered yoUr dUal-awareness between waking and dream selves, thoUgh it woUld not sUrprise me if the symptoms manifested in even more ways than this.

Now, Dirk has a clawmplicated relationship with his alternate selves, given that he's a Prince, but Nepeta wouldn't have the same struggles, or at least, not to the same degree. The problem is, hampered by Equius and her own shyness about discussing her thoughts and feelings with others:

NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i get so shy and worried what people might think of me if i say how i f33l NEPETASPRITE: :33 < im always so scared that they wont f33l the same way or just think im stupid or pathetic or something

She never actually gets to explore this part of herself.

But What If... She Did?

The way I imagine the original ending going is that each troll that gets saved by John's interference in the timeline then asks John to help them fix their own mistakes, thereby saving somebody else. Each successive trip through the meteor brings new character development, and also riddles the comic with progressively more password pages, which I think would be really funny. And throughout all this the Game Over team is searching for Vriska, Meenah, and the treasure, and resolving their arcs that way, so it's not like they would be replaced - they're the ones who get to kill LE. The process, in my mind, goes like this:

Terezi asks John to save Vriska, and prevent her from getting too spades with Gamzee, as these are her two greatest regrets.

Vriska obviously had great regrets about killing Tavros, both pre- and post-retcon, so she asks for his death to be prevented.

Tavros staying alive means that he and Gamzee wind up hashing out some stuff - Gamzee mentions that he feels "So aT ChIlL WiTh yOu" while talking to Tavros, and Tavros reciprocates the friendship and also - interestingly - acknowledges Gamzee's religion, calling it beautiful even if he doesn't necessarily believe in it. This is interesting because Karkat's inability to do so is explicitly one of the reasons their moirallegiance broke down. So having Tavros back, alive, means that he and Gamzee would likely end up in some sort of relationship, probably pale despite flushed leanings, and would bring Gamzee back into the fold.

Gamzee would then be like, yeah, wow, that time I killed Nepeta and Equius was pretty bad, huh? Especially since his decision to hang onto his friends' bodies and prototype them is often interpreted as him genuinely feeling bad about his dead friends (he tells Kurloz to shut up when Kurloz mentions all the dead friends, and his religion seems to be about a paradise he wants to share with his friends anyway). So he'd ask John to prevent him from killing them, resulting in the two of them getting to live.

Things get much more hypothetical from here, since so much of the character dynamics would have changed, but I think by this point, Equius might command ask John to let him say goodbye to Aradiabot before she explodes, which he expresses feeling very sad about. However, in doing so, John and Aradiabot end up in the same room, and when she realizes that he has the ability to change the timeline without repercussions, she'd seize him by the arm and demand that he take her back in time, to before she died. After all, she expresses regrets about her reckless actions, and how she always felt like it was all one big setup.

She would take Aradia's place in the Vriska revenge chain, being once more freed of her robot chassis, and from there, would trick Doc Scratch and the Handmaiden into thinking everything was still going according to their designs. Meanwhile, Alive!Aradia would be hanging out at Equius's place, borrowing his void powers to avoid notice, coordinating a new timeline that keeps the beats of the original (too much deviation causes unpredictability, and an paradox'd timeline offshoot without John's direct interference would still become doomed), but allows them greater freedom and the ability to overcome the machinations of Doc Scratch and associates.

This would also prevent Sollux from becoming so self-loathing, since it's no longer "his fault" that Aradia dies, although he winds up in that hole again after Feferi gets killed. Now that his Aradia is alive, he wouldn't feel like he might as well stay in the bubbles because his closest companions are there, so he'd make it to the end, and would ask John to prevent Feferi's death.

Eridan still dies; he's so disconnected and isolated from all his friends that his course of actions is largely unaffected even by everybody else's timeline tweaks. But before Feferi can suggest bringing him back, Karkat would butt in.

The Friendship Troll should be the one to demand that ALL of their friends be revived, especially if they had everyone except only one guy, and Karkat and Eridan are heavily implied to be moirails anyway. The course of Karkat's fixes are so comprehensive, and primarily romance-based, that the end result of this final loop is everybody not only being alive, but god-tiered, with appropriate character development.

Now, where Nepeta's Heart powers would play into all of this is that she would start to notice something going on. After all, Heart players are sensitive to their splintered selves, and (Nepeta) is probably much closer to Nepeta than regular doomed timeline offshoots. As the loops continue, and Nepeta has more and more time to talk to people, and meets her dead alternate selves, and even meets (Nepeta), she starts to awaken to her Ultimate Self - to come into possession of alternate memories.

And if the Ultimate Self is a very soul-y kind of concept, such that Heart players have a natural advantage in coming to understand it, then isn't it a natural fit that a Rogue of Heart - one who steals from Heart or steals Heart for others - would be naturally inclined to share the wisdom of her alternate selves, and even the very concept of the Ultimate Self, with her friends?

Because the Ultimate Self is actually, in my opinion, a pretty good narrative device. It turns the sadness of the dead and doomed timelines into something littersweet instead, and makes it so any weirdness regarding time travel and not really knowing your friends anymore will eventually be resolved, even if off-screen.

It's not really narratively satisfying when Davepetasprite^2 suddenly comes into being and reaches enlightenment, but imagine if instead it's a post-character development Nepeta comforting Davesprite on his relevance, or Jade on her loneliness, or John on not really knowing these new post-retcon versions of his friends? It would feel a lot better, since in this hypothetical, she would have reached that point after on-screen character development. Being able to share her true self with her friends on the meteor - by necessity, since what else are they going to be doing for three years - leads to her finally being able to fulfill her role as a Rogue of Heart.

Also, at some point during these repeated meteor trips, she dates Karkat (whether that's successful or not, I'll leave to reader interpretation - you already know where I stand), fulfilling Jaspersprite's musing that she might only be able to date Karkat after she dies.

So that's two out of thr33 of her outstanding plot hooks resolved... okay. So, I try not to make these essays into ship propaganda, but hear me out:

Hate Is Stored In The FefNep

Okay, so, remember that thing about how Feferi is actually a huge casteist hypocrite? Well, let's also note that the comic, post-Murderstuck, seems to put Nepeta and Feferi together a lot - they're a Commodore and Rear Admiral in the ghost pirate army, respectively, and they also wind up as Fefetasprite. So I think it's not entirely out of left field to say that these two were implied to have SOMETHING going on.

And that something... is a difference in political views.

I mean, let's be real, there's a reason Fefetasprite is the most explode-prone after Tavrisprite. Miss "The Hemocaste is Stupid and Shouldn't Matter" vs. Miss "I Love Being A Princess And Call Jade Hornless and Finless (Derogatory)"? Come on, tell me you don't see it.

Without getting too much into Feferi, this hypocrisy, and unwillingness to check her privilege (so glad I found an excuse to use that term unironically), are probably her greatest character flaws - ie, the things you would expect the story to address about her. Meanwhile, one of Nepeta's flaws, which she laments to Jasproseprite^2, is that she feels too shy to talk about her feelings to other people, leading to her having never expressed her views on the hemocaste to anyone but Equius.

I think that they initially think they'd be friends. Each one of them would go "oh man, this other girl is soooo cute, I wish I could talk to her more often!"

And then, once they do, they realize they fucking hate each other. Nepeta would go "X00 < you are such a hypocrite who f33ls like youre better than all of us!!!" and Feferi would go "You're suc)( an uneducated glubbing P-EASANT! 3X0" and then they'd claw each others' eyes out. It would be so funny, and if a homestuck ship isn't extremely fucking funny, then why are we even here.

But more importantly, this would further them along into resolving each others' arcs - Feferi would be forced to grapple with the greater implications of classism, and Nepeta - who is shown having a spine the most in defiance of somebody else - would grow more aggressive about being open about her feelings in defiance of Feferi. Even Equius would get roped into it in a positive way - you can just imagine him going "D --> Can I really believe my auricular sponge clots D --> Nepeta, you are finally taking interest in politi%" and be 100% on board with teaching her so Feferi won't be able to call her uneducated.

And then for flushed, I dunno! Karkat's an option, and Jade and Jake also both love the fuck out of furries, and Tavros seems nice. But yeah I'll die on the fefnep hate ship. Guys it would be so funny.

Thank you as always for reading! Let me know if there's a troll you want to hear me ramble about next.

#homestuck #nepeta leijon #feferi peixes #equius zahhak

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compressingsins · 9 months

Text

Jjk Men x chubby reader honeymoon Pt. 1

ft. Sukuna , Gojo , Nanami , Toji , and Naoya

Minors, do not read this, it’s nothing but smut. Pretty much jjk men and how their wife celebrates their wedding during their honeymoon.

Please do not copy or rewrite my works without my permission. 🫥

Sukuna - Your husband Ryomen Sukuna never seemed like the romantic type, which he wasn't. But for you, he didn't mind bringing you to this waterfall picnic, in a secluded oasis in the woodlands that was owned by a rich family. You were sitting underneath the waterfall, just taking in the gorgeous view of it, holding a glass of wine in your left hand. The view was gorgeous, a swimming hole was being filled by the waterfall, the was filled with coy fish.

Sukuna was setting up the picnic table that was big enough for the two of you, and you still couldn't believe how romantic this was. Sukuna even dressed up for you, which was also such a rare thing for him to do. You enjoyed this, though, smiling due to him finishing setting up the table, now sitting across from you. He wasn't expressing it, but you knew he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

"Thank you so much for doing this, baby. It really means a lot to me, especially after the week we've had." You two just got married a week ago, and now this celebration was going to also last a week long. You've been waiting for this moment your entire relationship with your now husband, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't waiting for the same thing. "It's really gorgeous out here, especially the coy fish, birds, oasis, and waterfall—oh my god!"

He loved seeing you this happy, so he couldn't help himself as he reached over the table to grab your hand with your wedding band on it. That of course got your attention, romantic Sukuna, was one of the best versions he's ever displayed to you. You loved him no matter what, but this was amazing. "I never thought I'd be telling anyone that I loved them. Not on the extent to which I am loving you, ____. This day is all about us, nothing or no one will ruin it."

Your heart throbbed so much for your husband, especially after he leaned over the table to kiss your plump lips, your left hand placing the glass of wine down so you could interlace your fingers together. The kiss was full on tongue boxing, your lips meshing together as the wetness from your saliva's joining and coating the thickness of your lips. Sure enough, Sukuna needed way more of you.

Nsfw —

You found yourself bent over the picnic table, thick fingers tangled in the locks of your hair as another huge hand smacked red prints into your plump ass. "Look at your ass jiggling on my cock, ____. Fuck, you've always been so beautiful." His free hand went to your thick hips to harshly pull you against his abdomen, his cock always splitting you in two. "You don't know how majestic you fucking look right now."

You couldn't register his words, especially with the way his cock so delicious slide throughout the spongy soft and sensitive interior and your pussy. All you could hear was his deep groans and the wetness of your pussy when his dick pierced precisely against that tingly spot inside of you. Sukuna loved how your body reacted to him, especially when your body released fluids that only he could ever make your body release.

"Fuck, look at you creaming on my cock. The wine was supposed to get you drunk and groggy, but apparently my dick is even better, huh?" You were definitely drunk on his dick, but not from the wine, literally from how addicting his cock fucked your pulsing and dripping pussy just right. "You're fucking cumming for me already, ____? Come here." He chuckled, yanking you up to stand on your feet and against his chest, one arm wrapped in between your breasts, the other reaching around to place thick finger's against your throbbing clit.

This only drove him to fuck your harder, "I'm gonna cum inside this time, ____. It's our honeymoon, why not make it even more special?" Your body trembling against his only egged him to go faster and deeper, he knew you wanted the same thing. "Just a little more baby, come on. Fucking cum with me!" His rumbling voice was all it took to get you there, along with himself, his other arm securing a spot back around you so he could hold you tightly as you both released harshly against one another.

Him not pulling out was the best feeling in the world, his lips landing against the back of your neck, sinking his teeth in only to slightly pierce the flesh. Sukuna let you rest against the table, but he didn't pull out. Instead, he placed both hands on the sides of your body, leaning over the table to whisper to you, "Come on ____, you always take my dick so well. You're definitely insane, if you think we're done."

Toji - Laying in a cozy log cabin, you were currently enjoying a tv show. The smell of food engulfed your nostrils, the holes flaring up from how delightfully pleasant the smell was. Your now husband, Toji Fushiguro, was putting his cooking skills to the test for you in the kitchen of the log cabin he rented for three whole days, for the both of you to enjoy.

Knowing that Toji was married before, you didn't think that he would've popped the big question on you so suddenly one day, but you did not regret it. Him getting down on one knee and saying those four magic words, "Will you marry me?" Is always the reoccurring memory in your head. You didn't think Toji loved you that much, up until that day where he finally asked you to marry him, the most special day of your life.

"I see you're still in a good mood, ____." A deep voice spoke from the doorway of your shared room, and of course it was your husband Toji. Standing with his arms crossed over his chest, shirtless with only pajama bottoms on, he smiled handsomely at you like he always do. It was his one way of teasing you, because he knew you loved every small thing about him. Walking up to the bed you were laying upon, Toji settled himself on top of you and in between your plus thighs, his arms wrapped around your waist as he stared up lovingly at your face.

Placing your hand on his head, you smiled at Toji and said, "This is the best moment of my life, Toji. I'm glad that we were able to spend this time together." You slowly stroked Toji's black locks, staring down at his handsome before bringing your other hand to his face, slowly tracing the scar permanently imbedded on the corner of his mouth. "Besides, the food that you're cooking smells really good too. I'm taking it as the food is done?" You asked.

With a groan and shrug Toji replied with, "Hm, well yeah. But you know what tastes as good as it smells?" Your husband asked with a sly smirk, and you already knew exactly what he was mentioning, especially when his arms tightened around you. "We been here ever since 8 o'clock this morning, and now it's what-" He asked and looked to the night stand with the clock on it displayed 8:41 at night. "8 p.m. How about we enjoy a special treat, then eat together?"

Nsfw —

"I love how you shake, when you're taking my cock, baby. Look at how sexy you are—fuck!" A deep grumble erupted from Toji as he slowly but surely drilled his thick girth against your velvety walls. Your body always reacted in such a over dramatic way, every drag and pull of his cock against your walls sending a tingling sensation throughout your abdomen, as if every thrust he delivered was an orgasm in itself.

He loved putting you in missionary, so your plush body could receive stimulation in deeper areas to where you could almost instantly cum on his cock. His hand was wrapped tightly around your throat, your wind pipe struggling to get air, though you and Toji both loved it, especially since the sensation made your walls tighten impossibly harder against the thick organ that was fucking itself in and out of your deliciously fat cunt.

Toji loved this kind of love making with you, one hand around your throat, the other against the mattress you two laid upon to hold himself up and watch every part of you. His eyes trailed to watch his cock that continued sinking into your heat, his tongue sticking out from how erratic your clit looked from swelling and twitching from the way he pumped himself into you.

Your arousal coated his cock every time he pulled out, a slick white sheen decorated the black hairs at the base of his cock and made him impossibly harder. Your hand went to his wrist, getting Toji's eyes back on your face and he smiled in victory as he heard you struggling trying to speak, "Toji— fu— fuck! I— ugh— Toji!" Was all you could produce, your eyes rolling back as your walls clenched uncontrollably until he hit the back of your cunt, your pussy basically trapping him inside as it creamed harshly from the strong orgasm. "Toji—!"

Your voice reached an octave that he has never heard before, but the hard clench from your cunt instantly made him shoot thick jets of hot cum into your tight walls. His eyes sealed shut and his body twitched, though he wasn't done, his arms wrapped around you and held you close to him. "I'm glad you're a Fushiguro now, baby." Toji continued to slowly fuck into you, hearing squeals from you everytime he thrusted into you. "It's our honeymoon baby, we gotta keep this up."

Naoya - You didn't know how to describe this feeling. Absolutely terrifying, shocking, downright frightening, you didn't know. Your husband Naoya Zenin thought that facing your fears would be an appropriate experience on one of the most important day of your entire life. You were so many feet in the air, on a private jet that Naoya purchased just for you two. You enjoyed the time you two were sharing, but this jet experience turned your stomach.

He was comforting you every second though, and you didn't know that private jets had dedicated 'bedrooms' with classic King-size beds for total rest and relaxation on board and master suites. That part was very nice to know, but you still found discomfort in it. You both layed together in bed, the night being young and beautiful as he continued trying to get you to look outside the window that was above your bed.

You, however, were just clinging tightly to his shirtless chest, his arms wrapped securely around you to try and get you to calm down but it just wasn't working. "Honey, why are you so afraid? Just look at how beautiful the city looks from here, it's almost, just almost as beautiful as you are." But you weren't going for that, this was the scariest thing you've ever had to do in your life, and doing it on your honeymoon just wasn't making it better.

"Baby, come on, please?" He sighed out as you snuggled up tighter to his muscular chest, not letting him go for a second. "Look, if anything happens while we're on this jet, you know that I could save us both. No matter how high we are, you and I both will be fine, I promise." Naoya assured, his large hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. "You have nothing to fear in the presence of me, ____, and you know this. I want to enjoy this, but with you."

He sounded so sad that you couldn't help but look up at him. "But Naoya, it's just so scary." You confessed once again.

Thinking to himself, Naoya sat himself up with you following. "Listen baby. You hear that?" He asked as a brow of yours raised in question. "Does it sound like our jet is going to malfunction any second?" You could hear nothing, but the sound of the jet blades spinning on the outside. "Now look—look at that." Naoya smiled, taking your hand and slowly lifting you both up to look out the window above your bed. He settled himself behind you, his arms around your waist, and his head on your shoulder. Your breathing and body instantly calmed, "Look at how beautiful the city is from above, baby. Almost as beautiful as you." He softly spoke, his hands wandering your body as his lips planted a gentle kiss against your temple.

Nsfw —

With one big hand on the back of your head, and the other wrapped tightly around your throat, your body was puzzled together with your husbands. The slow upward thrust of his cock battered precisely against your delicate spots that had your mind racing like a track full of horses. His grip on your throat was tight, his hand holding your head still as you were forced to look at the city that he found so beautiful and adored so much.

"You're enjoying this now, aren't you ___? City looks really beautiful, right?" He was so cocky, knowing that when he made love to you, it would always be the best that you've ever had and he took pride in that. So he felt as if he could talk to you in whatever way he wanted. "What if I got you pregnant, up here right now baby? That would make the night even more beautiful."

The way your walls clenched on him only egged him on more, "Shit—you want that, don't you? I wasn't planning on pulling out, anyway." He whispered against your ear, his hot breath causing your pussy to leak around his cock, so much so trying to flood him out of your gushing hole. Biting his lip with a deep grunt, Naoya pulled you off the window and against his chest completely, "You really want me to get you pregnant, huh, ____?"

He wrapped his strong muscular arms around your body, his left hand gripping your chin and turning your head so that he could capture your lips in a heated kiss, his eyes sealed shut just as yours were to embrace the impact of this intimate moment. His balls slapped softly and gently against your clit, your juices soaking him in a delicious sheen of your juices. "I love you so much, ____." He desperately pleaded, letting his hips roll into yours in the most intimate way that had you pretty much drooling.

"Come on baby." He smiled against the side of your face, his hands sliding down your body and going to your thighs to harshly pull you against his hips and help you piston his cock faster and harder inside you. "I feel your little pussy clenching on me so tightly." With a deep moan, Naoya placed fingers against your clit to harshly draw deep circles on your wet nub. "Cum on my cock so I can get you fucking pregnant."

Nanami - Being in a five star classy hotel was the best way you could've thought of spending your honeymoon with your newlywed husband, Kento Nanami. The two of you were cuddling on the bed you shared, laughter filled the room as you watched a movie that was categorized as comedy. Everything at this moment was perfect, your husband holding your hand with your wedding band, occasionally playing with the rock inside it.

This moment was so special for you two, all this effort you two put into loving one another finally turning into a successful accomplishment. Not that anything else wasn't an accomplishment, but this was the best feeling either of you could've asked for. Nanami was in heaven, which is why he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, before placing a kiss to the side of your forehead.

"I love you so much, ____." Nanami confessed, even though he reminded you of this every single day, and every single chance he got to say this. Even with those three words and you hearing them occasionally, you adored them every single time, because he knew that you loved the reassurance. And that he loved you with every fiber in his body, he couldn't keep his emotions to himself now that you're both married and together forever.

"You don't understand how much I love you more, Kento. More than you ever could imagine." You whispered back, your soft words sending a jolt of lightening to his heart. He couldn't help how much he loved you, you were literally the best woman a man could ever ask for. His main life goal was to literally grow old with you, going through life together no matter how hard it is.

His hands wrapped around your hips, pulling you on top of him to straddle his muscular thighs. You could feel him, and judging by that look on his face, you could tell he wanted to completely forget this movie and just ravage you. But you loved how he asked when engaging these kind of moments. "Can we—indulge in each other a little more than this, ____? Only if you want to."

Nsfw —

Slowly but surely, you rode Nanami's cock so heavenly it had his eyes closed and his mouth halfway agape. Nanami had his hands stationed on your thighs, letting you ride him at your own pace, getting your own rhythm and letting you take whatever your body desired. All he could do was moan your name, the deep rumbles of his chest making your walls suction strongly on his cock.

Given his size, Nanami never minded being patient with you, he let you take control only when if you asked otherwise. "Kento—you feel sooo... sooo good, babe." The way your arms wrapped around his neck and hugged his torso caused your body to lift up on him more, shifting your hips in an angle that made his cock curve and deliciously slide across the silky surface of your tight walls. He loved moments like this, only with you.

"I love you, baby." His voice choked out. Your body was so beautiful, he loved how it felt when you pushed yourself all the way down on his thick cock. The way your body jiggled added more sensation to his body, the dopamine boost to his brain boiling sweat across his body, his thick organ leaking pre-cum and adding a tingly sweet feeling to his abdomen. He could feel himself about to burst, "____, I'm about to—"

"Please Kento—just—cum inside please, I'm cumming." Your voice broke in a way that had Nanami's sack tightening in a way its never done before. He wrapped his arms around you, grounding you against his cock to thrust up into you, assisting your body to rush the delicious taste that you both could feel on the tip of your tongue's. Your orgasms were right there, the feeling approaching faster than it ever had before. "Baby—!" You practically screamed out.

Nanami couldn't help himself, holding you against him as he lifted you with one arm and pushed you onto your back, keeping up the momentum and continuing the onslaught of his thick cock inside your sopping wet pussy. He concealed you and his moans with his delicate lips, letting his dick stir your insides in the way that instantly made you clamp down on him, your pussy making his body stutter and splatter a thick load of cum inside of you, painting your insides white like a beautiful canvas. He kept his hips moving, however, the overstimulation making your eyes water and your hands shoot up to push at his chest. "We have to keep going baby, I need you to know I love you so much."

Gojo - It was the second day of your honeymoon with your husband, Satoru Gojo, and here you were trying your hardest to get comfortable in the heat of this spa bath. How your husband was able to rent the entire spa place to yourselves for a day, you had not even the slightest clue. You were currently sitting in the water, trying your hardest to accommodate to the hot sensation of the water, but it just wasn't working.

Trying to imagine the water being cold, that didn't work, trying to imagine yourself at home in your bath tub where the temperature was just right, and bubbles popped around your body but nothing worked. Gojo told you that he just wanted to have a relaxing day with you but if you're being honest, you've never been to a spa a single day in your life. So this is all new to you, you didn't know how people could get comfortable in the heat of this water.

You were standing halfway out of the water, only half of your body in the water with your hands covering your chest. It was just so hard to get comfortable to the point where you could sit back and relax, but apparently your husband loved spas. And hearing the deep chuckle from behind you, you could also tell that he was enjoying the view of your body sticking out of the water.

"I must say, your ass looks good as hell from this angle, baby. Mind if I join you?" You didn't even have to say anything because he was already dropping his towel and for you, he always removed his blindfold, placing them both to the side. Stepping into the water without a second of hesitation, your husband sat on the edge of the water, his arms propped up on the edge as his legs spread open wide, a spot that was only reserved for you. "Come here, babe."

"Babe, how the hell am I supposed to get comfortable in this water? I mean, it's not like my bath at home."

Without hesitation, your husband grabbed you and pulled you into his lap, his arms secured tightly underneath your breast, his head on your shoulder with a small smile. "You'll get used to it, ____, I promise it's not too bad depending on how long you stay in. And if you want—" Your husband chuckled, "I know a sure fire way to make you more comfortable."

Nsfw —

Water splashed alongside the spa bath, Gojo holding your legs against his chest with one hand and his other hand having a tight grip around your throat. He loved the way your throat bobbed up and down desperately trying to get air from how tight his hood was around your neck. He let his cock slowly sink deeply into your heat, though, the impact of his hips caused your body to move harshly back and forth against the spa edge.

He looked so angelic fucking into you, his crystal blue eyes piercing daggers into your face. He loved staring at your face, watching how your facial expressions morphed into different one's with each thrust he shook through your body. "I'm so glad I rented this place just for the two of us—fuck, you look so good." His hold on your throat tightened, the rosey tint that appeared on his being one of the signs that your pussy was gripping him just right.

You loved hearing your husband moan from the tightness of your walls, and it was pretty hard to tell your soaking juices from the actual water. "Your pussy is warmer than this water babe, fuck—you don't know how much I love you." With your legs still on his shoulders, Gojo decided to fold you completely in half with his body weight, his long cock thrusting languidly into your wet walls, his hands holding your wrists flat against the surface of the spa. "You know babe, I don't think you've ever been tighter for me."

Your head lolled back against the edge of the spa bath, Gojo taking the initiative to suckle deeply onto your throat. "Satoru—everything feels so... fuck—! I love you!" That only edged him on to continue his administration's on your pussy, the slow methodical thrusting of his hips touching every sensitive spot inside your velvet walls. "Please do it this time, babe!" And that stopped him, the white haired male sitting up to look upon your face. Trying to see if you were serious or not.

"Are you serious, babe? You want it now?" Your desperate whining moan was all he needed to reel his hips back and continue his onslaught, his mouth engulfing yours to swivel his tongue around with yours. If you thought this was the right time for it, then Gojo definitely didn't mind trying. He's never done this before, but he was ready to see how it felt. "If you think now is the right time to get you pregnant, let's put a baby in you."

This work was originally written by @compressingsins , if you see anything similar, please report it to me. 🫶🏾

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just-another-author-i-guess · 1 year

Note

so like, I don't know the extent of what you write, but if you're ok with it, smutty/spicy head canons for Marshall x Reader? or, alternatively, if you don't write that stuff, first date HC? 💛

Anything for you <3 I’ve been wanting to make a smut for him for soooo long so dw about it

Tags: fem! Reader, smut, obviously, blood, general vampire stuff?, semi-public sex, also they do it unprotected, don’t do that irl pls, Marshall has a big dick 😊✋, this is not nearly as bad as my Judd smuts dw, I wanted to write minors dni but who am I kidding they’re gonna read this anyways 🧍🏻

Summary: idk, porn?

Author’s note: I have returned! Ngl I’ve been thinking of this request for so long, I was so giddy to write it lol 🤭🤭 I hope it’s okay, I feel like I need to work more with Marshall as a character lol but nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this. Eat up, children!

Marshall smut headcannons

Word count; 2,6K

Smut under the cut!

He is SUCH a tease, omg

Will tease you for hours, days if he’s in the right mood for it

(which is most of the time, because he’s a little shit)

He will act so coy about it as well; getting you to the brim of an orgasm MULTIPLE times or touching you in a way that he knows will turn you on and then just,,, get up and leave

Oh, just a moment ago he was grinding you on his thigh and whispering the lewdest of lewd things into your ear? Too bad, now he’s up and going to get ice cream from the mart

He loves to tease you in public too, more than anything in fact

You’re drinking tea with Prince Gumball? Marshall got bored and thought it was funny to shove his hand under your skirt and into your panties, only to loudly point out how flustered you are

Would go; “Oh, jeez. Y/n you don’t look so fresh, you okay there, babe?”

If his cold fingers gently rubbing your clit didn’t feel so damn good, you’d definitely have kicked him

Instead, though, you clasp a hand over your mouth and nod vigorously

“Y-yes! Marshall, I’m just fine. Thanks,” You’d grit out, but the rest of your audience would find it hard to believe

Gumball, bless the man, would insist you lay down for a while and grant you a guest room in the castle

Bingo. Marshall’s plan fell through exactly how he wanted it to

The Prince would quickly find out you’re fine, though, when the both of you return like 20 minutes later with mussed hair and you sporting a few bite marks that definitely weren’t present before

Gumball would scold Marshall more than you, calling him something along the lines of “a hungry wild beast” while just telling you he thought you were better at controlling your urges lmfao

Marshall is definitely quite the exhibitionist, however

The two of you have fucked everywhere, all places in Aaa you could think off

Unfortunately for Gumball, that means his castle has been subject to this quite a lot since he’s got A TON of secret rooms

Marshall is more respectful at Fionna and Cake’s house though, he only convinced you to do it so much at the Candy Kingdom because he likes pissing Gumball off

But on the topic of Marshall’s exhibitionism, he really likes getting you to be loud too

It’s almost like he wants to be caught 😀✋

He’ll drag you around a corner or to the bathroom of a dingy bar or something and make you scream louder than you ever have in your life

This is not so much a problem in the Nightosphere (yes, you have fucked there too) because I imagine there’s a lot of screaming sounds going on there anyways

And either way, no one would dare disturb their Prince in his,, private activities

He’d also really like to drink your blood while fucking

Usually, he barely asks for it, only if he’s very sick or wounded because otherwise he just drinks the color of red

But when he’s buried inside you and your nails are scratching up his back, he feels just that tad bit more animalistic

Sometimes he won’t even ask ):

Only because he knows you know he would never genuinely hurt you

But if he’s already kissing and lapping at your neck, it’s soooo hard not to go that extra mile and sink his teeth in

And your blood is heavenly to him

Much better than drinking colours all the time fr

Ngl, your period would be love making season for him

Sometimes, just the faintest smell of your blood is enough to get him sporting a boner

But when it’s coming from you so steadily and from a place he already loves burying his face and nose in? Man’s a goner

Please just,,, let him eat you out 🙏

He doesn’t even understand how you could find it gross, when it’s literally free blood he can drink from you without puncturing your skin

He also LOVES making you cum, and get that taste of your blood mixed with cum.. mmm delicious 🤭🤭

Honestly, he kinda acts like he’s in heat on the week of your period

But yk, orgasms makes the cramps go away, or so they say

So take it like a champ lol

He’ll fuck you in his bed, mostly

His couch is kinda stuffy and hard bc he never uses it, only you and sometimes your friends when they come over does

His bed is also nice and large, very good for violent vampire sex

But let me present to you, an even better option; his bed in the Nightosphere

Idc his mom tries ok, and has a bedroom set up for him there

And it’s decorated very posh and such, but the bed is even better for a good round of fucking

No okay but he rarely takes you there because when he does his mom is bugging the two of you for grandkids so hard—

I’m honestly not sure if it’s even physically possible, but hey, his mom just wants a cute little grand baby 🫶🫶

Anyways

As I stated before, Marshall is a man who thoroughly enjoys foreplay

He’ll have you writhing and gasping before even filling you with his dick;

His head was hung low, eyes focused on the spot where your bare pussy was dragging against the denim of his jeans. He tensed his thigh, corners of his mouth quirking up as he caught sound of your breath hitching.

You sniffled, softly whining his name and trying to rut yourself faster against him.

He looked up fully, fangs escaping his complacent smile and gently resting on his lower lip

“Wow. You’re so greedy, baby,” He ‘tsked’, playfully scolding you.

His hands kept their iron grip on your hips, rocking you back and forth slowly and dictating exactly how much pressure you got to feel on your throbbing clit each time

You tried to glare at him, but then suddenly he was bouncing his leg and your glare became a sultry pout as you cried out for him

Unusually, you were sitting on his couch this time around

He had started by tricking you into watching a movie, clearly with other intentions in mind, but you fell right into his trap and happily obliged when he pulled you to his lap

Cold breath ghosted over your neck as he had slowly inched his fingers into your sleeping shorts, edging you until you were completely cross eyed and just about to cum only to pull away and situate you on his thigh instead

He had turned you around to face him, so he could observe your pitiful expressions as he kept giving you more but never enough

He thoroughly enjoyed it, and now you had been subject to his cruel torture for nearly two hours

He continued bouncing you, leaning in to get a long sniff of your neck

You felt his long, wet tongue lap up and down right in the crook of your neck and his already tight grip on your hips became bruising

He groaned softly, fangs lightly scraping your soft skin

“Not fair,” he slurred. “You smell so fucking good.”

You pushed yourself more into him, hands moving from his shoulders to the back of his head to cradle him against your neck

With your fingers gently treading through his black hair, you barely managed to whisper; “T-take what you need, then.”

Well aware that Marshall had now also fallen for his own trap, he complied easily

He lifted you slightly with his arm around your waist, settling you to now grind on the bulge in his pants instead as his two fangs pierced your skin

The feeling of his straining, but clothed, cock against your core was enough to momentarily distract you from the warm pain and pinch of Marshall’s bite

With one hand locked around your waist, the other came to the back of your head to angle you to his liking, leaving your lower half to its own devices

Maybe he was right when calling you greedy, because you instantly took the opportunity to sit down on his crotch

His clothed dick spread your folds slightly, the zipper of his pants pressing on your clit and you moaned loudly— finally getting enough stimulation

Marshall’s pupils were blown wide as he lapped up your blood, clutching you to him as tightly as he could without breaking your back as he started rutting his own ups up into you

If felt heavenly, you quickly got used to his fangs in your skin and the full throb became somewhat of a pleasant ache in your neck

Too caught up in his meal, he barely noticed when you came all over his pants, slick coating your inner thighs and now spilling over his crotch as well

You whined loudly as you came, panting out a never ending mantra of your boyfriends name and shuddering all over from the intense fell of it all

You clawed at his scalp, desperate for some kind of stability as you finally came down a bit

However, Marshall was still rutting into you, with no intention of stopping, keeping the fire in your belly raging even though you just came

When he finally managed to pull away from your neck, lower face and cheeks smeared with blood, he wasted no time unbuckling his jeans

You cried out in relief when he lifted you again, lining you up with his long, pale cock, completely stiff and leaking

The drunkenly satisfied meal that escaped you when he finally nudged into you was music to his ears

After hours of waiting, you ached to feel him stretching your walls

He shuddered at the feeling, too, your gummy walls always fit him so snuggly he was surprised he could even fit inside

Your previous orgasm along with the drawn out teasing had made you beyond sensitive, your head was spinning, mouth parting in delirious moans as you finally, finally felt the fullness of his dick inside you

He hissed when you gently rocked yourself against him, walls fluttering around his cock. “Easy there,” he breathed, mouth returning to that smug smile he bore before, this time coated in blood. “Aren’t you gonna be a good girl?”

You whined helplessly, hugging him to you and burrowing your face in the crook of his neck

He felt you nod against him in confirmation, gently licking at his skin and biting at his shirt to keep yourself sane

He leaned back on the couch, cradling you to his chest and starting a slow and torturous pace of his hips

You moaned each time he buckled upwards, meeting his thrust with a desperate one of your own

He breathed out a laugh. “You’re so goddamn wet, it’s all over my pants, sweetheart.” He commented condescendingly, nuzzling your hair with his bloodied face

It got in your hair, it was also still leaking from your neck but you didn’t care

All you could manage was a small huff in response against Marshall’s collarbone, clutching his T-shirt in your hands

His statement was true, though

You were absolutely leaking on his cock, it dribbled down his shaft, creating a small puddle underneath you on his pants and the couch

Gently, you lifted your head to mouth at his neck, then his jaw

“More.” You muttered, your voice cracked slightly and it came as a whisper, but you knew Marshall’s supernatural senses would pick up on it anyways

He cackled in response. “You can handle more?”

Vigorously you nodded and before you could even register it, Marshall had you on your back on the couch

You looked up at him hazily, fingers trailing the few marks you had left on his neck, all of which was already beginning to heal

He leaned down to kiss you as he started pounding into you, making the couch shake and knock against the table besides it with each movement

He hoisted your leg up, bringing the left one over his shoulder and dove into you deeper, enough to make you feel him all the way in your lower belly

When he was done kissing you, leaving you breathless and your lips swollen, he nosed down your neck until he found his bite marks and resumed his feasting

You tightened and fluttered around him, flailing as the liquid flames in your belly grew until they became almost unbearable

You tried pleading with Marshall, but all that came out of your mouth was incoherent mewls of his name or loud moans

He was close too, you could tell by the way he was clutching you, his demon-like nails had grown and was leaving small cuts and indents where he was holding you

He groaned into you, deeply and animalistic and it vibrated through your whole body in the most pleasant of tingling sensations

That was enough to tip you over the edge, and without warning you creamed on his dick, walls fluttering and constricting so tightly around him he almost found it hard to pull back out

He took a sharp intake of air, departing from your neck for only a moment to glance down and watch the way your pussy was milking him

He moaned a little at the sight, licking his lips and picking up speed

You could only just lay there as his thrust became inhumane, you knew he was holding back when you two fucked, but it never failed to surprise you when he took use of some of his actual strength

Something in the sofa cracked, the sound of wood splitting barely reaching your sex-drunk mind as Marshall fucked you rough and fast

His own thrusts became somewhat sloppy as he used you to chase his end, he watched your face intently, eyebrows knitted in concentration

When you finally opened your eyes, locking eyes with him and presenting him with the most fucked-out expression he had ever seen you hold, he came

He didn’t bother to pull out, instead he held your hips tightly to his, releasing his load inside you

You softly sighed in delight, body numb and heavy

It took a while for him to pull out, but when he finally did, he went straight to nuzzling into you again

He hugged you closely, supporting you against his chest as he sat up, lifted his hips and pulled his pants back up

Marshall is surprisingly good at aftercare, I mean, after all that teasing he better be treating you right after

He’s always very cuddly, and makes sure to clean you up properly after

He starts with you always, his own needs come in seconds after he’s done with you

He’s looking at you all lovestruck and starry eyed too, with a goofy lil smile on his face, adorable

He tugs you against him, preferably in his bed, and helps you clean up the puncture wounds with his tongue and a wet towel

Awe, he’s so cute (,:

He just wants to make you feel loved 🥰🥰

Especially cause he knows humans are not build for the kinda sex he’s build for, he’s always a bit scared he’s breached your limits too much or exhausted too much

And I mean, yes, he has, but you thoroughly enjoy it so..

No okay I know I just said he’s soft in the post-but clarity, but sometimes he can also be a teasing little shit

Depending on how loud he made you moan or how much he got you to embarrass yourself

In the instance above, he’s pretty soft, but don’t be fooled, man’s is a demon after all 🫢

He’s so hot pls 🥲✋

He’s been needing his own smut for so long too oml,,, I hope you enjoyed it.

Sorry this is also not as fluffy as a first date thing would be, but if it’s something y’all want I could write something about that too. Thanks for the read! 🙏

#marshall lee x reader #marshall lee #marshall lee hc #smut hcs #adventure time x reader #fionna and cake #adventure time #help this is a kids show why am I writing smut about it

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winterarmyy · 9 months

Text

Until Then

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: A mission back in time brought Y/N to an unexpected encounter with the man she fell in love with.

Words: 2.3k++

Pairing: 40s!bucky / avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: melancholy-ish plot line with fluffy ending

Inspiration: "You still would've turn my head, even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944 and you were heading off to fight in the war" �� Timeless (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift

Read my other works here: Masterlist

It was supposed to be a quick in and out mission. Y/N and Tony were sent back in time to 1944; one day before Captain America and the Howling Commandos deployed to their next mission at the Austrian Alps, in Europe.

The duo were supposed to retrieve some lost files regarding Hydra's hidden bunks and labs back in the days. After the fight with Thanos, there were rumours of the re-creation of Project Winter Soldier lead by an organization that once associated with Hydra. So, they need all the information they could get their hands on; including the ones that are lost decades ago.

Unfortunately for them SHIELD used to be shitty at storing physical files back in the days. To be fair they still do, especially now that technology had advanced. Every single information were at the tip of their fingers; from typical criminal records to the name of every single doctor and nurses who were present when the person was born.

They literally have everything. And nothing at the same time.

And honestly, the mission was quick as they predicted. Tony managed to scanned the needed files and some others that he thought would be important. He's extra like that too, which was a plus.

However quick the mission supposed to be, they barely make it though, especially when the guards were suspicious of Tony's apparently "hippie" beard. It was such a shame. So much for dressing up in 40's style. They kind of nailed the outfit and aesthetics, according to Steve anyway.

However, thankfully by the time they got out of the facility they managed fit right in with crowd. The wave of people lead the duo along its current, more and more people joined in to the point that they weren't able to find any quiet place to activate their time device.

"I thought we're still in WWII? Why is there fucking a parade in the middle of the day?" Tony being unapologetically sarcastic as always.

Y/N looked around as she observed, there was couple of people animatedly, albeit, excitedly exclaimed to the streak of success of Captain America and the Howling Commandos in the war.

A little to the right of them, were a group of children who were semi-cosplaying as Captain America and his dream team, passionately play-fighting with the enemies as if they were in a theater performance.

"I guess they're celebrating small wins. Steve and his team did have several successful raids since the battle at Azzano." It was in fact true; what Y/N speculated was exactly the very reason of the current occasion.

Tony simply shrugged as he stretched his neck higher to hopefully find the end the crowd, "Sure, just keep your eyes open for a place to time jump. I don't want to be stuck in the middle of another war." Y/N nodded as she looked around the sides, wondering if there's an empty alleyway that they could use.

The more sketchy looking it was, the better.

The crowd was chaotic with different mix of conversations and cheers; voices intertwining with one another, each sentences criss and crosses into indecipherable storyline. But even then, Y/N could recognized that breathy, slightly giggly laughter anywhere.

Especially when he brushed right by her.

Y/N was well aware of how madly in love she was with Bucky even with the coy cat-and-mouse game they were playing for months. She knew exactly the hold he had on her soul that at some point, she was conviced that he still would've turn her head in any lifetime.

But that idea was only supposed to be one of the secrets in her mind; the thoughts of a hopeless romantic that she was. Certainly, she didn't dreamt of the vision for it come true. But there she was, frozen on her spot when the time stood still on the crowded street in 1944; fortuitously crossing path with man she fell in love with.

There weren't any suitable explanation for this other than it was fate. In that short milliseconds, Y/N saw the resemblance of the sight to a memory of hers in the crowded room a few short years ago; his left arm slung around Steve's neck, letting his weight leaned on his super soldier friend as he let out a hearty laughter.

There were only slight difference from what she saw before and what she currently seeing; Bucky wore an all black suit at that party, now he's wearing his military uniform in a parade. Bucky was dead drunk on Asguardian mead that night, now he's as sober as a soldier deprived of liquor. Bucky's left hand was adorned with high-tech vibranium metal, now that very hand was still made of flesh and blood, still alive.

During that brief moment of revelation, she truly believed that they were supposed to find this.

Whatever this is supposed to be; Fate? Love? Both? She was not sure either.

She was so stuck on holding her gaze on his back as the young soldier walked a few steps away from her that she didn't notice how the people in the surge glared at her unmoving state or how she had been astray from Tony.

Well, at least it only lasted until someone bumped into her and she staggered backwards, inevitably fell on the ground.

Y/N groaned but quickly patted her pockets to find her time device was still there. I mean, she can never be sure if it was just an accident that she fell or someone intended to distract her while pick-pocketing her belongings.

Though other people would probably already stood on their feet but Y/N was still on the dusty road, as she was busy recollecting her mental state rather than her physical.

That was when a calloused hand reached out to her, offering a kind help.

She didn't think twice to take his hand, let alone looking up at his face when she gripped it tight enough to make a solid foundation to push herself against the gravity, "Oh dear me! Thank you so much, sir. I really..." She lost her momentum when she met the pale blue of his eyes, "...appreciate it." She ended the sentence breathlessly.

It's Bucky. Her brain tried to let her process the thought. It was not her Bucky but still... it's Bucky. Her eyes then fell to where their skin touched. Warm and gentle. His left hand felt the exact same as his right. It made her to cave in the urge to hold it a little longer, to savour the memory of what it could've been; not that she weren't fond of his vibranium arm but curiosity can be such a fickle thing.

Bucky smiled, "Glad to help, my lady." And oh dear does he smiled effortlessly, freely; as if he knew he deserved to feel joy in his life.

Even if she didn't want to, she had to let go of his hand after a few seconds too long of holding it when she was already up and ready to go. She returned his smile though her heart was barely tough enough to stop the spreading of its cracks, "Really, I can't thank you enough."

In reality, it was probably unnecessary to thank him that much for helping her to get back on her feet, but Y/N wasn't really thanking him just for that.

Unbeknownst to him, she was thanking him for not holding back a smile, for not overthinking about the things he might have done to draw a conclusion that he was undeserving have the luxury to smile, for unapologetically just living the life he supposed to have.

She thanked him for it.

Bucky chuckled amusingly as he slightly titled his head to the side. A charming pull on the corner of his lips revealed a smile that could swoon anyone on sight, especially her.

"Well, we're having a little party tonight before deploying to Europe tomorrow. So, maybe you can thank me by letting me bring you to the dance? How about that, doll?" She almost forgot that Steve was there next to him, until Bucky references the word "we".

And especially when his words might just pulled Y/N's heartstrings in ways that she could never thought someone could do. It was awfully slow, almost too delicate of a pull, but each inches of it pained her deeply.

If it was up to her, she would've said yes a million times over but she knew she can't. And the voice in her earpiece reminded her of it, "Y/N, we gotta go." Tony urged as he watched her from the corner of the street.

Y/N tried her best not let her facial expression flatter, "Unfortunately, I can't. I'm going back to my hometown today." It wasn't exactly a lie when she made that excuse.

"Ohh, I see. You're not from here, huh?" Bucky was very honest as his reaction clearly showed his disappointment. Though not at her, just at the situation.

Her brows briefly crunch into an apologizing plead before she boldly grabbed him by the collar of his uniform, slightly pulled him down to her level, while the other hand cupped one side of his face.

She tiptoed herself upwards as she pressed a firm yet sweet kiss on the smooth skin of his cheek and whispered against it, "But, I hope this would do."

Lost for words, heck, Bucky was lost for thoughts. What was left was his own heart thumping hard and loud that he bet Steve can hear it from where he was standing. His cheeks became warmer by the second and the redness spreads even to the tip of his ears.

Of course he had his cheek kissed before, but not like this. None of them felt like this. They were always too fast, too hasty.

Hers was different. It lingered a little longer, gently leaving her imprint on him. He can feel her grip on his collar, the stroke of her thumb on his cheek and of course the soft pressure of her lips on the other side of his face. He could everything so particularly.

Bucky was rendered speechless even after she pulled her lips away; it was too soon for his comfort. Eyes wide open, his lips slightly parted as he let himself lost in the pleasant surprise.

He thought she would parted herself and ran away feeling embarrassed, but she did the very opposite. Y/N lead his forehead to lean on hers, tip of their nose grazed, and her lips hovered above his.

So close, yet refused to merge with one another.

Y/N whispered quietly, as if she was talking to herself, "You'll be fine, James. You'll find home in the future. I promise."

Her voice trembled as Bucky just noticed how wet her eyes were becoming. With that amount of tears in them, he wondered if her sight were all blurry now.

Y/N took in a shaky breath before continuing, "You just need to survive the winter and trust me at the end of that season, you'll reach the sun again." Her thumbs softly traces his cheeks as she spoke.

Bucky didn't quite understand what she was saying but if he loosely translate it, it would mean that 'she believed that he'll be back soon after the war'. But then again, he felt like there were some major things that was missing from the context that he came up with.

Y/N's earpiece send another transmission of Tony's voice, "Okay, seriously. Come on, Juliette. Your other Romeo is waiting for you." She couldn't help but to smile as she closed her eyes, letting the excess tears fall down to her cheeks.

She didn't want to say goodbye, as she knew that this was not where their story ends, at least not his; that's for sure. So, she simply smiled up at him with a reassuring look in her eyes before stepping back. She then, briefly turned her attention to the dumbfounded Steve, gracing him with a similar smile before walking away.

It was just a few steps away when her hand was caught in between someone's, "Hey!" Y/N looked over her shoulder to see Bucky; wide eye, blinking in disbelief and blushing red, all at the same time, "WiIl... Will I see you again?" He asked, though hesitant; wondering if he was being rude.

Compared to what she had done to him, he was just being too polite.

Y/N chuckled dearly, "Of course." Then she replied confidently, "I owe you a dance after all." Her lips parted into a cheeky grin.

Bucky let out a sharp relieved sigh as his lips mimic hers, "I'll look forward to it, doll." He slightly bowed as his hand pulled hers closer to his lips, "Until then." He placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand as his gaze remained on hers.

Apparently, it was Y/N's turn to blush to his antics. She stepped back shyly as her cheeks brightens before scurring away. Maybe, Bucky was right with his prediction prior. She did ran away feeling embarrassed after all.

She jogged towards the next corner of the street, meeting up with Tony. The older might have eyeing her in a teasing manner, but his smirk was the biggest giveaway. Y/N simply rolled her eyes, even if her lips maintained its shape from the aftermath of her encounter with Bucky.

As they entered deeper into the alleyway, Tony spoke, "I gotta admit, young terminator was a hottie. Not hotter than me, of course." he claimed.

Y/N frowned, letting out a scoff, "What do you mean "was"? He still is." Call it bias, but at least she was telling the truth.

Tony shrugged, "Meh. Would argue to differ. But, whatever that floats your boat, I guess?" Tony sassed as they clicked on the time device at the same time, revealing a swirlling portal, in front of them.

Y/N quirked her brow, her hands on her hips, "You're just jealous that he aged like a fine fucking wine and you don't." She purposely challenged his ego.

Tony dramatically rolled his eyes, "Please. He wishes." He walked into portal with an attitude, making Y/N laughed at his childish acts.

She looked back at the alleyway one last time and reminisce the last moments of a past that she never belong in. As she walked into the portal, she thought that maybe, it's time to pay her debt to Bucky.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: The start of bucky drabbles because why not. This is considered a drabble for me because i feel like there's lack of story building. But, you tell me. And did you enjoy it?

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #40s!bucky #avenger!bucky #bucky drabbles

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lxndonorris · 4 months

Text

warmth - Logan Sargeant

Y/N x Logan Sargeant Theme: fluff, touching (light) you need a break from studying and cuddle with your boyfriend Logan x word count: 1100+ taglist: @game-set-canet (sorry for the wait, had exams and stuff but they are nearly over, so :)) gif by me.

It's always been this way. Studying is exhausting, so you push it away and focus on other things while the day of the exam keeps creeping up on you. Months turn into weeks, and weeks into days, while you try to manage your life the best way possible. Your boyfriend, Logan, tries to support you, but, to be fair, more often than not, he's a welcome distraction.

Right now, there is no way you can procrastinate any longer. It's Friday, and the exam is set for Tuesday. You're sitting at your desk; what feels like a dozen textbooks lie in front of you, with the artificial light making it even harder to keep your eyes open. You've read the same chapters and the same lines at least half a dozen times, but you feel like it isn't enough.

Your laptop already went dark like ten minutes ago; the battery probably died from exhaustion as well, but something inside you isn't ready to stop yet. Steadying your head with your hand against your forehead, you let out a low sigh and take a deep breath. 'How are you supposed to get all of this into your head until Tuesday? Clearly, there wasn't enough time', you think to yourself. No, you were just too busy procrastinating.

That's when you see the reflection of your boyfriend on your screen. He's lying on the bed right behind you, one hand casually resting on his tummy, stroking himself through his white shirt, while his other hand is leaning against his face, covering a coy smile with two fingers.

Logan notices you watching him, and he holds back a soft smile. Exhausted, you turn your head toward him, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look." You say this, shaking your head slowly.

"I have no clue what you're talking about." He says, raising both of his eyebrows, trying to play the innocent one, but the smile he's holding back is giving it away.

That vicious, cute look on his face. He would always look at you like that when he was craving attention. Cuddles, kisses, hugs, anything. It's not hard to look through him after being with him for nearly a year.

"Logan." You mentally raise a finger as if scolding him, but he just giggles quietly. "You looking at me like that makes it really hard to concentrate."

Holding back a smile for yourself, you turn back to your textbooks and start to read the same lines for the seventh time.

However, you can't help but look at Logan through the screen again, and he's giggling still, but he tries to regain his composure.

You turn your face again, but before you can open your mouth, he stops you.

"Look." Logan says, trying so hard not to giggle. "I just think you should take a break." He runs a hand through his messy hair as he sits up.

"I can't." You let out another long sigh before you turned back to the books. The words keep melting together, almost spinning. Clearly, you're way too tired to keep studying.

That's when you feel Logan's hands on your shoulder, before he wraps you in a warm hug from behind.

"You've been studying for hours, Y/N." He breathes and places a few kisses on your neck. Feeling his soft lips against your skin gives you goosebumps.

"I know." You say, leaning back against his firm chest, embracing his arms around your chest.

"You need a break." He says it softly and rubs his head gently against yours, slightly pulling you back into him.

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you give in.

"Fine. You're right." Logan purrs quietly, leading you toward the bed, one of his hands running along your arm. It tickles as his fingertips brush over your skin.

Together, you get on the bed. Logan is the first one to lie down, inviting you to lie down right next to him.

Carefully and slowly, you snuggle up against his chest, using his left arm as a pillow. Letting out a low groan, you rub your face against his chest, causing him to giggle again.

"See, you must be exhausted." He says, with his voice a little rougher than before.

Logan kisses your forehead and moves a little closer so he can stroke the small of your back with his other hand. It feels good—soothing, almost. It feels even better once his fingers slide underneath your shirt—a tender touch, with his fingertips gently dancing across your skin.

At the same time, you let one of your hands slip inside his shirt as well. It feels so good to run your fingers across his chest, feeling his firm chest, his soft, warm skin, and the way his chest heaves with every little breath he takes.

"Mhmm." Logan purrs again, rubbing his head gently against yours.

"That's what you wanted, eh?" You lift your head to meet his warm gaze.

He licks his lips quickly as a shy smile forms on them. "Yes." Logan's face flushes with color.

"But you deserve a break." He nods comfortingly, knowing very well that you're stressing yourself out, even though there is no point in studying when you're that tired.

"I know." You lean in and kiss him once, then twice. He embraces your lips on his own as his hand wanders down your back, across your buttocks, and to your thighs.

You can feel his thumb stroking you, causing you to giggle into his mouth.

"I couldn't help myself." He giggles as well and kisses you again before you two get even closer, cuddling again.

While he keeps stroking your thighs, you return the favor by stroking his tummy, just the way he likes it, causing him to purr like a happy kitten.

Now, you're lying face-to-face, looking into each other's eyes. There is no need for words; it just feels so good to not think about exams, textbooks, or anything else.

"Thank you." You breathe deeply, moving a little closer toward him, and hug him with both of your hands now underneath his clothes.

Logan embraces you right away and rests his head against yours.

"You're welcome." He growls, stroking the small of your back again, while you take in the warmth of his body and the faint scent of his cologne.

With a soft smile, you rest your head against his firm chest, and he embraces you even closer—like wrapping you in a warm glow.

After a while, you fall asleep inside his arms while he watches over you, just for a little while longer, before he too falls asleep.

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x y/n #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant fanfic #logan x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #logan sargeant fluff #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fluff

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ugh-yoongi · 9 months

Note

a yoongi soft thought i have been having recently: streamer!yoongs with an also streamer reader, they both work independently but the fans know about their relationship and love it so much! i was thinking about them deciding to do a stream together where the reader does his makeup and they talk to the public, very cliche very soft lol

hope you like the idea, luv your writing ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

omggg you have no idea how much i SQUEALED reading this message. thank u so much for sending it i am now overwhelmed with soft yoongi feels 😭

i have never actually watched a twitch stream??? so i hope i did this justice & you enjoy! <3

stream is starting

pairing: yoongi x reader (no pronouns used) genre: est. relationship, streamer au; fluff warnings: fluff overload. reader does yoongi's nails and makeup. they kiss a lot. idk what to say they're just very in love!! i don't think i said even ONE curse word in this that's how soft it is. unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 1.6k listen to: carly rae jepsen - run away with me; jungkook - seven (nightfall mix)

It starts, as most things do with Yoongi, after a night out.

He’d gone out with Hoseok. Wanted to blow off some steam after a long week for both of them. You’d sent him off with a kiss, a text me if you need a ride that was met with an affectionate roll of his eyes, and finally a have fun, love you that he returned with a smile and a kiss to your forehead.

Now, it’s nearing two a.m., and you’re in bed with a facemask on, staring down at your phone.

Yoongi had sent you a picture. It’s blurry and unfocused, clearly taken on a whim, but those are undoubtedly Hoseok’s hands. You’d know those slender fingers anywhere, but it’s the nail art that tips you off. Each finger is painted black except for his pinkies, which are decorated with smiley face stickers, sealed with an extra-shiny clear coat. Beneath the photo, two texts from your boyfriend:

Is this hard to do They’re cute

You snort, typing out a quick reply.

No, it’s not hard Why, you want me to do your nails?

You expect him to say no. Not because of some toxic masculinity bullshit, he just does too much with his hands. Chip a nail playing guitar? The acetone would be out immediately. Smudge the polish? His pout would be overwhelming.

So you’re surprised, then, when he says yes; when he sends you a few pictures he plucked off of Pinterest, accompanied only with a half-dozen question marks.

Yeah, I can do that, you send him.

Even more surprising:

Maybe on stream? We haven’t done one together yet You can finally do my makeup too

You shouldn’t be surprised by the numbers, considering Yoongi has been hyping it up for weeks.

Kept posting teasers. Had a countdown timer on screen during his usual streams. Acted all coy and shy whenever his chat would ask him about it. Could barely swallow his smile when they demanded to know if you were finally making an appearance. Couldn’t hide the way his cheeks grew pink at all, and that tiny crumb was enough to send the internet into a frenzy.

So, no, you shouldn’t be surprised, but the view count on Yoongi’s screen seems too big to be real.

Yoongi is as shocked as you, but there’s pride simmering beneath the surface. Not once has he turned down an opportunity to show you off. Refuses to keep you hidden despite how private he insists on being otherwise. Doesn’t want you to feel like you’re a secret; wants everyone to know how much he adores you.

You’re certainly feeling adored now. “Does that say thirty thousand?”

“Sure does. Think you can perform under that kind of pressure?”

You snort. Pinch playfully at his side. Yoongi squeals, twists away from you, but he’s more serious when he comes back around. Reaches for you as he settles, hands on your hips, thumb brushing the warm skin beneath your sweatshirt. “Thanks for doing this with me,” he says, and you know Yoongi means it the same way you say I love you.

All you can do is smile, suddenly overwhelmed by how fond you are of him. How it feels like your heart grows three sizes every time he flashes you one of those gummy smiles of his own.

“Of course,” you say, because there’s only—“Five minutes. You ready?”

He pulls a face. Asks you to sit for a quick light test. Spends a few seconds fussing over it even though you think it looks fine. Makes sure all your supplies are organized and at the ready—you decided to let Yoongi’s stream decide all the colors and stickers, so there’s stuff everywhere, and you can see how stressed he is.

So you reach out, smooth over the furrow between his brows. “Relax, baby.”

He huffs. “I’m trying, it’s just—”

“You’ve done this a million times.”

“Yeah, by myself. Not with you. Not in front of… Jesus, there’s even more of them now.”

You roll your lips to hide the smile that’s creeping up. “C’mere,” you say, sliding your fingers through his belt loops. “Everything is going to be fine, okay? This is just for fun. Deep breaths.”

Yoongi listens. Closes his eyes, sucks in a breath. Holds it for a few seconds before he exhales, and it probably doesn’t do anything to dampen the buzz, but at least he looks glued back together. “I know.” Another inhale, another slow exhale. “I just want this to go well.”

“It will.”

He looks like he wants to argue. Push back on it. But Yoongi knows you just like you know him, and he trusts you implicitly. He wants to argue. Instead, he says, “Okay,” presses a soft kiss to your lips, and that’s the end of that.

“What color did they decide on?”

Admittedly, you might’ve gone overboard. Surely you didn’t need to bring over every eyeshadow palette you own, but you wanted options, and now those options are coming back to bite you in the rear. There are too many.

Yoongi huffs. “I don’t know. I can’t scroll through the chat because you made me put my hands in this ridiculous thing.”

“It’s a UV lamp. You don’t want your nails to chip, do you? After I just spent all that time and effort—”

“Okay, okay,” Yoongi relents, and a familiar blush creeps up his neck. Over his shoulder, you can see his chat explode with messages. “You see what I have to put up with?” he asks them.

“Yeah, it’s awful,” you agree, leaning in closer to the monitor. “Hi, guys. What color eye makeup should we do?” The chat erupts again. Messages come in faster than you can keep up with. “Wow, there are a lot of you. Of course I’m going to do eyeliner. Oh—I’m seeing a lot of requests for purple. That okay with you, babe?”

“Sure. Give the people what they want.”

With a smile, you pat his cheek with a gentle hand, cooing at him. “So accommodating. Isn’t he the best, chat?” Yoongi rolls his eyes, blush deepening. You think he’d hide behind his hands if they weren’t still drying. “Okay, nails are all done. Want to show them how they turned out?”

Like most things with Yoongi are, it’s easy.

He sits patiently while you prime his skin, commenting on how nice it is, and he makes small talk with his chat. Tells them how the two of you met, how disastrous your first date had been, how Yoongi thought he’d blown it for good. He’s told all of these stories before, but it still warms your heart to hear them again—to hear the way he speaks each word with such care, such affection.

“Show them how beautiful you look with your eye makeup done.”

He rolls his eyes, but does as you request anyway. Once again, the chat explodes, and the amount of emotes whirring by nearly makes you go crosseyed. COUPLE GOALS!!!! stands out amongst the chaos, and you know Yoongi has read it because another slow, gummy smile takes over his face.

You do his foundation next even though he doesn’t need any. Even though the chat demands he drop his skincare routine and he admits he doesn’t have one. “It is so unfair that you have this skin and can barely remember to moisturize.” You pretend to boo him. “God truly has favorites.”

“Yeah, you,” Yoongi says, and it’s so quick, so automatic, that it catches you off guard. Has you spraying the setting spray before you can tell him to close his eyes. “Aish, what was that—”

“Sorry!”

“I’m blind,” he wails. “You’ve blinded me!”

“I did not—”

But you’re up and off anyway, disappearing into the bathroom for a wet washcloth. You can hear Yoongi’s raspy laughter from the hall, know he’s not grievously injured and is just playing it up for laughs, and you don’t mind. Loving Yoongi means seeing all of his parts, and you know he’s got a darkness in him just like everyone else, that sometimes he finds it hard to escape it, so you want him to be this carefree and joyous always. Want to hear that laughter all the time.

You’re hovering in the doorway when he says, “Do you think this is what they meant when they said love is blind?”

And you’re… struck. You can feel how much Yoongi loves you in everything he does; can hear it in every word he says whenever he speaks about you. He handpicks each one, wraps it in the care it deserves. Not because they’re fragile, but because he wants to, and that kind of love feels a little overwhelming. Has you blinking back tears.

You’re not going to cry on stream, so you take a second to get yourself together before you walk back in the room. Say, “Are you done being dramatic yet?” because it’s easier to joke, and Yoongi shoots you a smile that says he knows.

“Of course,” he answers. “Please continue. The chat is patiently waiting to see the final product.”

You make a show of looking over his shoulder again, at pretending to read all the comments. You press a kiss to his temple just because you’re there. “Oh, they are, are they?”

One catches your eye: is anyone else painfully aware of how single they are rn.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi fic #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x you #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #jewel writes

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freedomfireflies · 1 year

Text

The Prism*

Summary: Harry and Dylan don't have a thing in common except for their hatred.

That...and their insatiable thirst for you.

Word Count: 11k (I have no excuse for this, I was in heat)

*This is a Harry Styles and Dylan O'Brien crossover of sorts! I know that's not everybody's thing, so please feel no pressure to read! This part will contain Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

The Prism.

Boston's very own sex club. Boston's best underground sex club.

Secret, but not unknown, The Prism is nothing short of legendary. The parties, the memories, the clients, the exclusivity. All of it making The Prism what it is.

This is where you find yourself one Friday evening. With your on again, off again boy-toy Harry by your side.

You figure it’s a good way to welcome in the weekend. A quick fuck to reset the stress from the previous week. A habit that’s becoming rather typical for you. Especially with Harry, who offers you nothing more than some good cock.

He might be a pain in your ass, but he certainly does know his way around your body. A talent that’s proven even now as he rests his hand on your thigh while you take a sip of your Sprite.

The touches always start innocently enough. A quick squeeze to your knee beneath the table as you laugh. He’ll make some comment about how perfect your dress is for easy access. How fun it would be to fuck you right there in the booth. How thrilling it would be to make everybody watch.

And everybody would watch. And they wouldn’t care. Because that’s just…what The Prism does. It’s why you’re all here. No judgements, no consequences…just sex.

And right as this thought occurs to you, Harry’s fingers begin their journey up your inner thigh. They always find themselves there eventually, and you aren’t about to argue. Especially with how determined his touch is tonight.

You’re tempted to wonder why but can’t find the willpower to do so as the soft stroking against your skin crawls higher.

Out of reflex, your legs begin to squeeze shut around his hand while your fingers grip onto the edge of your seat.

You turn toward him, face nuzzling into his shoulder as if to hide. Because you’re so smitten by this man and his touch and this feeling he’s giving you.

But when you glance up at him, maybe in an attempt to encourage him to finally touch you…you see that his eyes are not on you.

They’re on something in the distance.

Focused, and cocky, and somewhat angry.

And just as you’re beginning to ask yourself why…you hear footsteps. Growing louder and louder until they stop right behind you.

“Well, well, well.”

The new voice is enough to startle you, but it isn’t enough to deter Harry’s touch. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. Doesn’t offer you a moment of reprieve. No, he keeps pressing his thumb over the dampening spot of your underwear as you slowly turn to see who’s approached.

And to your surprise, and slight horror…you find Dylan.

Dylan, your friend of nearly eight years, looming above where you sit in the booth. Hands in his pockets, a smirk pulling at his lips, and his shirt unbuttoned about halfway down his chest.

For a moment, he eyes Harry’s wrist as it continues to disappear beneath the hem of your dress.

And then, he looks up. Finds you. Studies you for a moment as you quickly attempt to push Harry out and play coy.

“Hi,” you breathe, frowning when your attempts at shoving are unsuccessful. Harry won’t let himself be moved away from you, and you want to smack him.

And now you understand the look on his face. Understand why he kept his focus on the man across the room.

Dylan and Harry can’t fucking stand each other. You’re not sure why, but it’s been like this since the moment you got the outrageously idiotic idea to introduce them.

Dylan thinks you can do better than Harry.

Which, truthfully…you probably can.

And Harry thinks Dylan needs to mind his own fucking business.

Which, truthfully…he probably does.

But you never found the need to take a side. Because what you do with Harry only matters inside the bedroom.

And your friendship with Dylan matters outside of the bedroom.

There’s no need for the two relationships to ever overlap or interact.

Except for now.

Dylan’s smirk widens at your attempt at a nonchalant greeting, but he knows he’s caught you off guard. “Hi,” he returns.

“What, um…what a coincidence,” you say, clearing your throat as you squeeze Harry’s hand between your fingers.

“Isn’t it?” Dylan muses, nodding once as he looks down at you.

You swallow.

“Funny…this is the last place I imagined seeing you,” he continues, allowing for one glance at the man beside you, his eyebrow cocking up.

You clear your throat once more. “Oh, well, you know. We didn’t have much to do, and I’ve heard the mozzarella sticks are to die for.”

It’s a horrible cover. You know he’s not buying it, and Harry’s snort of amusement certainly doesn’t help your cause.

But Dylan graciously begins to grin, almost as if to appease you. “Is that so?”

You nod. “Yes. Yup. In fact, now that we’ve tried them, we’re probably just…gonna head home.”

“Oh, really? Already?”

“Yeah. Just…have a nice night in. Relax. Maybe watch a movie. Or two. Or three. Movies are fun. Aren’t movies fun?”

You’re rambling. You need to stop. But you don’t know what else to do. Don’t know how to look Dylan in the eye as Harry’s hand continues to tease you underneath your dress.

“Such fun,” Dylan agrees before he runs his tongue over his teeth. “But…I’m afraid I can’t let you leave.”

Now, it’s Harry’s turn to look intrigued. He leans closer, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he regards the confident man on the other side of the table.

“Why, um…why not?” you ask hesitantly, feeling rather caught between these two alpha-males.

There’s a pause as Dylan regards you, his attention falling down to your chest which is heaving beneath the fancy material of your outfit.

It makes him smile.

He leans closer. “Because what kind of friend would I be…if I made you cum around his fingers?”

Your eyes just about pop out of your head as you blink at him, stunned by the implication that he did in fact see what Harry was doing.

“I’d say a pretty fucking shitty one,” Dylan continues, placing his hands on the table as his head dips closer to you. “And am I a shitty friend?”

You don’t know what to do. Have no answer to offer him.

And just when you’re thinking you’d like to walk into the middle of traffic to avoid this interaction altogether…you feel Harry squeeze your thigh.

Either he’s furious with Dylan for showing up and intruding…or he’s reminding you to answer.

Both theories make your stomach flip.

“No,” you murmur, a bit mesmerized by the curious but lustful look in Dylan’s eye.

“No,” he repeats in agreement, nodding once. “No, I’m not. You know what kind of friend I am?”

Your head shakes.

“I’m the kind of friend…that takes you into that private room…and fucks you the way you deserve,” he whispers, eyeing you closely as he watches the realization settle.

The entire booth goes quiet. Still.

You have no idea where this came from. No idea how many drinks Dylan must have had to inspire him to even suggest such an idea.

And you have no idea why Harry isn’t stopping him. Telling him off. Shutting the idea down.

It’s as if you all understand the same thing. As if you’ve all landed on the same conclusion, the same page.

You almost feel dizzy from how fast this all happened. How fast Dylan went from being your longtime bestie to the man staring a hole right through you and promising you the kind of orgasm you’ve always deserved.

He leans back and outstretches his hand. “Up,” he commands of you, and you stand so quickly to your feet that you’re convinced it was your cunt making the call instead of your brain.

But it doesn’t matter because you’ve never felt so…sure. So safe. Stuck between these two men that you would happily entrust your pleasure with.

Harry stares at you both from his seat, and you wonder if now is the time for him to object.

But when he simply cocks his head and nods at you to step out of the booth…you feel your eyes grow wide.

You look back at Dylan as you take his hand, fingers slipping around his palm as he leads you out from the corner of the room. “What…what are you doing? What’s going on?”

“I told you,” he says coolly, stealing another glance at the man scooting his way after you. “I’m being a really good fucking friend.”

Your knees feel weak, but you toss him an unamused look. “Dyl…come on. You don’t…you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying—”

“Actually, I haven’t had a drink all night,” he corrects. “I know…exactly what I’m saying. What I’m asking. And so do you. Both…of you.”

You tug on his hand until you’re sure you have his full attention.

Not that you haven’t had it since the moment he saw you walk in.

“Dylan,” you repeat softly. Urgently. “What are you doing?”

He studies you for a moment, almost as if contemplating his answer.

Then, he uses his other hand to brush a fallen hair behind your ear, his finger following the curve of your neck as he smiles.

“I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago,” he tells you, and you can hear the honesty in his voice. “And I guess I’m seeing if you want it, too.”

“You hate him.”

“I tolerate him,” Dylan corrects smugly. “I’ve just…begun to feel a little bad for you. That’s all.”

Your lashes flutter. “Bad?”

“Yeah.” His grin grows a bit more cocky. “I’m sure he’s perfectly…adequate. When you need him to be. But I think he could be better. I think you deserve…better.”

“And you’re better, huh?”

“I can be. For you.”

“Dylan.”

“Honey.”

You want to frown at the nickname, but the way he says it makes your breath hitch. “Are you sure about this?”

“I am,” he says confidently. “As long as you are.”

And are you?

You nod, a rush of adrenaline shooting up the back of your spine as he beams at you and begins to lead you toward the hallway at the back of the club.

And Harry is right behind, his watchful gaze never once deviating from Dylan. You’re sure he’s contemplating what Dylan’s true intentions are. Perhaps contemplating if this is even a good idea.

But something about The Prism makes every idea seem like a good idea.

You feel so pitiful with the way you follow after the handsome man in front of you, tripping over your own feet as he leads you all to the collection of doors.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. How could you not have? He’s charming, and he’s funny, and he’s been one of your closest friends for years.

And he’s a much more permanent figure in your life than Harry is.

But you feel safe with him. Safe with both of them, no matter how strange this entire arrangement has become.

When you come to a stop, you find that you’re in front of door number five, and just before you can ask what happens next…Dylan slips a gold-plated key from his pocket.

And once you’ve entered the room…everything changes.

You don’t know what to look at first. The large space is stunning, with a king-sized bed front and center. Silk sheets, a velvet couch, a mirror on the ceiling.

Not to mention the array of toys displayed in the corner or the bench with black handcuffs on it.

You feel like you’ve walked straight into a porno.

And while this is a sure upgrade from your previous visits, you don’t feel…unsettled. Or uneasy, or even unsure.

You feel…confident in your decision. In the idea that you really are doing this…with them.

And when you turn to catch a glimpse of Harry’s face…you find that he’s equally as enthralled by the prospect of tonight. Of the three of you.

This will most likely be a one-time thing, and perhaps this understanding is what’s inspiring you to throw caution to the wind.

After all, pleasure is pleasure.

And shared pleasure…well, that’s just a fucking dream.

Dylan steps aside to allow you both a look around. He seems amused by your awe, and even more amused by the way your fingers have begun to twitch by your side.

He can tell you’re desperate. You’re sure they both can. How could you not be? You have no idea who will hold the power tonight. Or what it would even look like to see them work together.

If that’s even possible.

“Problem?” you hear Dylan call, forcing your attention back until you see the way Harry shrugs.

“Just…wondering what exactly you think is gonna happen tonight,” Harry replies, brow raised as he watches Dylan’s arms cross over his chest. “What your plan is.”

“My plan, huh?” Dylan repeats, smiling softly. “My plan. Well, Harold…my plan is to show you…how to do it right.”

Harry begins to frown as your heart hammers against your chest.

“And my plan…” Dylan continues, taking a step closer, “…is to make you watch.”

Harry’s teeth grit as he regards the arrogant man a few feet away. “Is that fucking right?”

“That’s fucking right.”

Now, Dylan looks to you.

“Sit him down,” he instructs, nodding toward the bench in the corner of the room.

You and Harry both turn to look as well, and once Harry realizes what the plan is, he scoffs.

“Oh, I don’t fucking think so,” he retorts, straightening up. “No. You’re not fucking my girlfriend right in front of me.”

“She’s not your girlfriend,” Dylan reminds him calmly. “Besides, I don’t think it would hurt you to learn how to actually make her cum.”

“Oh, and you think you know how?” Harry snorts, moving closer as well. “What, all those years of pining for her really did the trick, huh?”

“Wasn’t about pining. I just knew she could do better.”

“Better. And you’d be better?”

“I’d certainly be a start.”

“Funny.”

“Not really. She deserves to know how it feels to have my cum inside of her.”

Your cheeks flush.

“And you expect me to watch?”

“I expect you…to sit the fuck down,” Dylan answers, with a bit more edge than before. “Exactly like I asked.”

But Harry doesn’t move. No, he glares at Dylan as you apprehensively approach from behind, hoping to ease the tension before it can rise any further.

And when Harry continues to remain put, Dylan decides to take matters into his own hands.

He places his palms on Harry’s chest…and shoves. Shoves him back, shoves him hard. Shoves until Harry has no choice but to stumble back.

Harry’s jaw snaps shut. “The hell are you—”

“Sit down,” Dylan repeats, just as sternly as before.

“Fuck you,” Harry seethes, stepping back up to his previous spot as Dylan’s head cocks.

“I’m sure you’d like to. But right now…I asked you to sit down.”

“God, you’re such a fucking—”

But before Harry can finish his spiteful retort, Dylan’s fingers are weaving through the roots of Harry’s curls to force his head back.

The room falls silent, save for the quick breaths you and Harry are both taking.

But Dylan is calm. Far too calm as he leans in and meets Harry’s eye. “Sit…the fuck…down,” he whispers. “And maybe…I’ll be good to you, too.”

For a moment, the two men are at an impasse.

They can’t stand each other and would happily spend all evening arguing and showing off if they had to.

But they understand that tonight is not about them.

It’s about you.

It always is.

So, Harry swallows his pride and relaxes into Dylan’s hold as a sign of good faith. Allowing the older gentleman to decide what happens next.

But Harry won’t like it…but he’ll at least get to be a part of it.

Dylan turns to you now, smiling his appreciation at your willingness before nodding once.

You take this as your cue to approach, gentle touch slipping around Harry’s hand as you gingerly guide him toward the bench.

And Harry lets himself be moved, even though you can feel the way his muscles have gone stiff beneath your hold.

Something that certainly isn’t helped by the way Dylan calls, “Attaboy.”

It's condescending, and arrogant, and everything Harry hates. Especially from Dylan. Even still, he remains quiet, instead moving his focus to you. The sweet girl just trying to do as she’s told.

And you still feel rather mesmerized by whatever spell Dylan has you under, following each order like a lost little puppy.

A submissive little pet.

Not that you’re opposed to playing this role. Especially with these two men. And you can tell Harry is rather amused by your eagerness, if not a little annoyed by it.

And you know how hard this must be for him. To give up control.

To give it to Dylan.

It’ll be out of his hands, quite literally. And Harry adores having power over you. Over everyone.

But tonight…tonight he’s far too taken with Dylan’s premise. And the promise of pleasure between the three of you.

Of the promise…of you.

And perhaps a part of him is hoping that this little experiment between you and your longtime friend will only prove that Harry is the superior choice.

And that thought alone has his cock twitching.

Once he’s sat on the bench, he shoots a peeved look Dylan’s way. Almost as if to reiterate the point that he’s absolutely not enjoying himself.

Even if he sort of is.

Dylan merely smiles, once again nodding his approval as he looks to you. “Hands,” he instructs simply.

He doesn’t need to elaborate any further for you to know what he’d like. So you reach for Harry’s large wrists, and lift them toward the restraints hanging off the back of the seat.

Harry continues to stew from his spot, but he doesn’t stop you. He waits for you to finish, taking note of the way your fingers gently shake with anticipation.

You slip his hand through and tighten the lock into place. Then, you move to the other side, and repeat.

Once you’re finished, he tugs on them, just to test them out, and is rather surprised to find how little room for movement he actually has.

An idea that’s exciting, invigorating, and arousing. But he keeps his expression stoic as he lifts his head and looks over to the man a few feet away.

Dylan is pleased with you, lips rolling into his mouth as he hums his approval. “Good girl,” he calls once you’ve stepped back to join him.

And your face flushes as your thighs begin to squeeze together. They both notice, but don’t comment on it as Dylan begins walking up behind you.

With his long, beautiful fingers, he sweeps your hair off your back and over your shoulder, allowing enough room for him to ghost his lips along your neck.

Then, he whispers, “Take off your panties.”

Harry leans back against the seat, his legs spreading rather angrily as he watches Dylan toss a smirk toward him.

But you do as you’re asked, slipping your hand beneath the hem of your dress until you can feel your way toward the lace.

And Harry’s eyes grow bigger as he watches you do this right in front of him. He doesn’t miss a thing. Doesn’t miss the way you’re forced to take a deep breath to compose yourself. Doesn’t miss the way you undoubtedly felt yourself dripping. Doesn’t miss the way you accidentally-on-purpose grazed your little clit.

All three of you know you’ll be unraveling before the evening even has a chance to get started.

Once the underwear is off and in your hands, you turn to Dylan expectantly.

He smiles and glances over your face. “Put them in his mouth.”

Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead as Harry rolls his eyes, grunting to himself before looking away.

But Dylan isn’t deterred. “Go on,” he murmurs, nodding his chin toward the perturbed British man on the bench. “Let him taste you. ’Cause this is all he’s gonna fucking get.”

With that, he places his hand on your lower back, and encourages you forward.

There’s a catch in your throat as you step up to Harry, filled with intrigue and promise.

He watches you get closer, going deathly still as you reach out to grab onto the underside of his jaw, and lift his head.

His gaze is venomous as you look him over. Perhaps he’s trying to communicate with you. Or perhaps he’s simply reminding you that he doesn’t enjoy this little show.

Either way, you smile softly to comfort him, thumb stroking over his cheek soothingly. “Come on, Har. Be a good boy and open up.”

He’d probably fight you on this any other day.

But today…he’s too desperate.

His lips slowly pull apart, mouth widening just enough to allow you to slip the soaked fabric inside before his jaw clamps shut.

You watch the way his lashes flutter at the taste of you immersing his tongue. A taste he’s so used to, so familiar with, so enchanted by…that he groans.

However, it comes out as more of an annoyed grunt, but either way, Dylan is pleased as Harry slumps down into his seat.

And once you’ve stepped back, you collide into Dylan’s chest, your heart racing as he snakes one arm around the front of your stomach to keep you stuck to him.

“Think that’ll keep him quiet?” he murmurs, lips following the curve of your ear as you become puddy in his hands.

And you can feel his hard cock pressed against your ass. Can feel the way he grinds against you, the way he breathes you in as if he needs you to survive.

And when you shiver within his hold, he smiles.

“How’s it taste, Harold?” he asks the tense man in the corner.

Harry's only response is a grunt.

“Yeah? That good, huh?” Dylan grins, fingers now traveling down the side of your silhouette as he pulls on the fabric of your dress. The hem lifts higher and higher up your thighs until a cool breeze finds its way beneath, forcing you to lean back into him. “Guess I should have a taste for myself.”

Harry’s focus falls toward your legs, watching with intrigue as the fabric is bunched into Dylan’s fists just above your belly button.

And you’re soaked. You imagine they knew you would be, but once they finally see it for themselves? See the way the light catches the drip down your thighs? See how swollen and needy you’ve become?

Harry makes another animalistic noise deep from the center of his chest, lids growing heavy with lust as your throbbing cunt sits before him. Right in his fucking face.

And Dylan’s only response is smug condescension, glancing down at the masterpiece before him while trailing his fingers toward the apex of your thighs.

And you watch him. Watch every inch of skin pass beneath his hand as he smooths his palm down your stomach.

Your breaths are quick and desperate, lungs practically aching as he finally reaches his destination.

Without permission, a small whimper rips from between your parted lips as you jerk against his chest. However, his arm keeps you still, keeps you obedient. Forced to feel each dip and pinch his fingers provide.

He slides through slowly, feeling you out, indulging in you. Spreading, and pressing before finally dipping inside.

A loud gasp rings through the room as you squirm a bit harder at the subtle pressure he applies. But before you can truly enjoy it…he pulls out, leaving you to wilt in his embrace.

And you want to be angry, but he never promised you anything more than a taste.

Which is exactly what he takes, fingers moving up to his mouth as he watches Harry from over your shoulder. Just to make sure he has his full attention.

Dylan’s tongue drags along the drops falling down his knuckles before he places those nimble fingers on his tongue.

And hearing him suck the ever-living shit out of them has your eyes squeezing shut. It’s too much—too good. You can hardly fucking stand it, and you clench pitifully around nothing.

And Harry sees this. Sees everything, hears everything. And he fucking loves it. Despite himself, he loves seeing the way your body reacts to something as simple as a sound. The way you fall apart, even by Dylan’s hand. The way you submit.

“You were right,” Dylan hums as his arm drops back down to your body. “She’s fucking delicious.”

Harry exhales heavily through his nose, his mouth watering, teeth clamping down on the panties still soaking his tongue.

You’re almost proud of him for how…complicit he’s being.

How…obedient.

When Dylan releases your dress, you almost want to whine. Tortured by the idea that he’s already through with you. That he’s going to leave you like this.

But you should know better. Should know the look in his eye by now. Should know what it means as he runs a hand through his dark hair and murmurs, “C’mere, baby.”

You turn to fully face him, wonderstruck by his beauty under these lights. In this moment. This one, divine experience you feel lucky enough to have.

He takes hold of your chin, tilting your face up until he can get a good look at you. His thumb brushing down your bottom lip, teasing you with the idea to take it into your mouth.

He dips down, and for a moment, you’re sure he’s going to kiss you. And your heart just about leaps into your throat at the idea of finally getting to taste him this way.

Then…he pulls back.

“Take off your dress,” he instructs softly, head tilting to the left as if going back in to kiss you again.

But he can’t kiss you and give you the room you need to take off your dress, so you pout as you reach back to undo the zipper.

The sparkly fabric moves down your arms before falling to the floor, and you’re quick to step out of it so you can return to him.

But both boys need a moment to admire you. Need a moment to appreciate you as their eyes follow each curve and dip along your squirming frame. Your naked chest, your aching cunt, and the flush in your face.

Once Dylan’s eyes reach yours, he nods. “Now take off my shirt.”

You nearly lunge for the buttons trailing down the second half of his chest, slipping them free quickly before guiding the soft, black material of his shirt off his body.

And now it's your turn to admire him, taking note of his muscles, and tan skin. The few hairs that litter his chest and disappear into his pants.

Without realizing it, you’ve begun to tug on your bottom lip with your teeth, but Dylan realizes. And he swallows a laugh.

“Pants,” he instructs next, stepping out of his shoes as your greedy fingers reach for his zipper.

The feel of his briefs has your heart thumping in your chest, the idea of what lies beneath practically luring you in.

But you haven't been instructed to go there yet, so with a huff, you pull his jeans down to the floor and discard of them.

Your focus moves from his hips to his face, expression practically begging with him to let you remove the last item of clothing.

And Dylan looks at you like you’re the most adorable thing in the world, although he still refuses to give you permission.

Instead, he looks toward Harry. Still brooding behind you as you glance over as well.

"I want you to take off his pants for me," he tells you, his voice so low, it nearly vibrates throughout your entire body. "Take them off…so you can watch him leak for you."

Harry's chest just about caves in on itself as he shoots an aggravated look Dylan’s way.

But you hardly notice as you return to him, fingers outstretching for his belt to pull it through each loop.

And Harry watches you, looking down as his pulse races at the beautiful sight of you timidly kneeling at his feet.

And you’re watching your hands with your big eyes, cunt still throbbing as you attempt to squeeze your thighs together.

Both of you are dangling on the precipice of sanity as Harry’s nails begin to dig just a bit harder into his palms. A futile attempt at restraining himself from the thought of taking a fistful of your hair.

You’re so close to him. So fucking close to what you both know is his painfully hard and red cock. Proof of what you’re doing to him. What you’re both doing to him.

After a moment or two of struggle, you manage to shimmy his pants down to his ankles before flicking them off and tossing them aside.

His black dress shirt and boxers are all that’s left, and you have to take a moment to admire him, too.

Because just the thought of riding that glorious tiger tattoo on his thigh makes your head spin. The way it would look, glistening in your arousal, dripping down his leg before you’re forced to clean it up.

You let out a strangled breath as Dylan steps closer and clicks his tongue to call your attention back to him.

“Take ’em off,” he repeats, eyeing the only left between you and Harry’s cock.

Harry tenses once more, steeling himself against the bench as you face him. For the first time all night, he's practically pleading with you. Desperate for your touch.

And when you dip your hand inside, you feel exactly how sticky he is. How pathetically aroused.

You both gasp when the contact is made, his lashes once more fluttering quickly as he relaxes into your touch.

And he’d happily stay there in your hand all damn day if it wasn’t for the proud man behind you. Watching with that cocky expression that hasn’t been displaced all night.

You waste no more time, fingers curling around the band of his underwear before you’re pulling them down, revealing what lies beneath to your hungry gaze.

You try not to stare but you can’t exactly help it. It’s right in your face.

Dylan is a little less subtle. He gives Harry a once-over, feeling rather satisfied with the way his body tells him what Harry can’t. Proving just how much of a needy bitch this man really is.

Poor Harry is fucking humiliated under their stares. Leaning back against the bench as he pulls on the restraints, the veins in his arms straining against his skin.

But deep down…you know he loves it.

"What did I tell you?" Dylan muses, bending down so he’s closer to where you still sit on your knees. "Look at the way he needs you. The way he fucking leaks for you. Pathetic, isn't it?"

You nod mutely, attention still transfixed like a kid in a candy store.

Dylan hums. “Bet you wanna have a taste. Don’t you, honey? Go on then. Fucking taste him.”

You look up, finding Harry’s eyes as you search for his approval.

He offers a gesture that you assume is meant to be his consent before you straighten up and place your hands on his thighs.

Once you’re close enough, you waste no more time, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock as his head drops back and he groans.

Your nails bury deep within his skin as you situate yourself between his legs. Allowing yourself to get comfortable while you wrap your mouth around his tip. Tongue swirling in percisce patterns as you whimper for added effect.

Harry just about loses it. You can see the way his chest has begun to heave from strained breaths and it sends your ego through the roof.

You love having this type of power over him. Knowing that his pleasure…is yours.

And Dylan allows this to go on for quite some time before he finally decides he’s had enough. You imagine he doesn’t want Harry coming down your throat so soon, and aren’t all that surprised when he reaches down to grab onto you.

His fingers tangle in your roots until you let Harry go before he’s yanking you onto your feet.

You don’t even have time to speak before he’s whirling you around and kissing you.

Instantly, his lips melt into yours, your tongue coated with Harry’s pre-cum, your jaw rigid beneath his palm.

And he takes. Takes everything you have to offer him. No hesitation, no remorse, no consequences.

He takes until you have no choice but to moan with satisfaction at the feel of the man holding onto you so tight. At the pain tingling across your scalp. At the way he grunts into your mouth like he’s never been so turned on.

His other hand finds your throat, pressing just hard enough to squeeze another whimper from you. Your fingers graze down his stomach as you attempt to steady yourself, but your knees feel weak. Your body instantly aroused by something as simple as a kiss.

Then, with the hold on your hair, Dylan slings you toward the bed just behind you like you were nothing but a fucking ragdoll. You crash onto the soft mattress, tits bouncing from the force as you gasp excitedly.

He’s quick to follow, hands and knees leading him closer as he hovers above you, caging you to the silk sheets.

He’s like a wild animal chasing after an innocent baby deer. As if you’re just waiting for him to eat you alive.

Which…you are.

But you’re also impatient, legs already attempting to spread as if to plead with him, needily reaching for his face in a silent request for another kiss.

And you imagine he might have given it to you until a certain darkness passes over his expression and he finds your throat once more.

With a warning squeeze, he murmurs, “No, baby. You do what I say. Understood?”

The rasp in his voice prompts a rather fast response as you nod and whisper, “Yes.”

Truth be told, you’d hoped the catch in your voice would perhaps change his mind but Dylan seems to know the trick.

He tsks again as he studies you. “My greedy little whore. Just aching for anything I’ll give her, hm? No. No, you’re gonna stay right here. Right fucking here until I come back.”

Confused, your eyebrows weave together as he pushes himself upright and steps off the bed.

You push yourself onto your elbows as you watch him walk away from you, expression growing sad the further he gets.

“Where—” you begin only to quickly realize that he’s stopping in front of the selection of toys.

Oh.

He takes his time looking over the display while Harry huffs from his spot. You imagine he’s just as apprehensive of Dylan’s plans as you are, and if he could talk…it probably wouldn’t be very nice.

As the minutes continue to pass, you grow anxious. Impatient. So pitifully desperate that you have to flop back down onto the bed and put your eyes on the mirror above you.

You watch your reflection with a pout, taking note of your breasts as they rise and fall with each breath. The way your hair is spread out across the bed. The way your thighs are squeezing together in an attempt to find some relief.

It would be so easy to just…slip your hand down and find it. Find a fraction of pleasure as you wait for Dylan to quit toying with you.

But before you get the chance to do such a devious thing, you feel a large presence looming to your left, and roll your head over to look.

Dylan has returned, a new object in his hand, and a stern expression on his face. He’s warning you to behave, and you have no choice but to oblige as you glance down.

He weighs the toy he’d retrieved in his hands, making sure to get a good feel as he glances between the two of you. Letting you anticipate him. Anticipate his plans.

And then…he turns it on.

The sound of the vibrations almost make you groan as you squirm a bit harder on the bed. Your longing gaze glued to the wand as you silently command Dylan to hurry up and put it to use already.

But he doesn’t rush to your side the way you had hoped. No, instead…he turns to Harry.

Now even more unsure, Harry attempts to straighten up as he regards the brunette boy walking toward him.

When Dylan crouches down, Harry shoots him a rather outraged look of warning.

He doesn’t want to be played with. He wants to do the playing.

“Something wrong?” Dylan asks quietly, finger hovering over the power button as he gently dances the vibrator closer.

Harry simply exhales another sharp breath through his nose, shooting daggers Dylan's way, to which Dylan merely grins.

Then…the wand is moved toward Harry’s cock, innocently grazing the head as Harry’s own depraved moan slips free.

And it’s angry, and it’s loud, and virile. The whole room can tell just how much he enjoyed the fleeting touch, and without a second hesitation, Dylan does it again.

“Don’t fucking cum,” he warns, eyeing the peeved man before him. “Do you hear me, Harold? Do not cum until I say so.”

Harry tries to scoff, but with the way his dick is twitching, he might not be able to hold off.

Which is exactly what Dylan wants. Wants him to be so close to release, that he'll even beg him for it. Wants to bring him to the edge and leave him there while he fucks you right in front of him.

You watch from the bed, whining to yourself as your thighs squeeze together, panting lightly.

And when Harry's eyes meet yours briefly, he has to take another deep breath, commanding himself to stay strong.

He's close. Too close, but now…Dylan finds it difficult to stop. There's something so…compelling about watching Harry like this. The snarky attitude now nowhere to be found as he becomes puddy in Dylan's large hands.

After all, Dylan did promise to be good to him, too.

Maybe he lets Harry cum all over his stomach.

And maybe he makes you clean it up.

However, this thought is quickly disregarded as he chooses to stick with his original plan. He pulls the vibrating toy away only moments before Harry can find his release, and the entire room lets out a collective sigh.

Satisfied, Dylan straightens back up, and turns to you.

He finds you still lying on the bed, dripping pathetically onto the sheets below as you look up at him with a whimper.

Your lips roll into your mouth the moment he steps closer, his eyes trailing down to your cunt before he’s returning to his previous position.

And then, he brings the vibrator into play.

"Is this what you want?" he asks, despite the fact that he already knows the answer.

But you nod frantically anyhow, thighs spreading once more to invite him closer. Invite him in, but he isn't fooled.

He takes his time, reaching out to grab onto your ankle and slide you down to him. The toy comes alive in his hand, now a bit more powerful than before, ready for use. And you eye it like it's a cool drink of water on a hot day.

Still, Dylan is patient. Slow. He takes the large head of the toy and brings it up to your sternum, dragging it down your chest slowly as you anxiously look back up at the ceiling.

Your eyes quickly find his body in the reflection above, and you can’t help but watch the way his back muscles move and strain as he continues his sadistic torture.

Everything about his body is like a work of art. He’s like a drug. Addicting from top to bottom, and you wonder how you’ve never noticed before.

He continues guiding the vibrations along your frame, over your hardened nipple, and down your stomach as you whine again. Unable to resist writhing against the sheets and away from the sweet feeling.

And when you begin to pant his name, you see him smile.

He fucking loves the sound of his name in your mouth. Always has. For eight fucking years. Loves to hear the quiet whisper of your voice as you breathe it out like you’re breathing just for him.

He can’t help but wonder if you’ve ever been teased like this. Truly appreciated like this. Given the time and space to be worshiped the way he knows you deserve.

And he decides right then and there that he will. From now until the rest of time, he will worship you. Your orgasms will be by his hand, his tongue, his cock. You’ll be ruined for anyone else. He'll fucking see to that.

"Watch," he commands once he reaches your hips, the vibrator now dangerously close to your aching cunt as your eyes move to his. "You fucking watch me make you cum."

You don’t argue. You’ll happily watch him ruin you forever, happily gaze upon his structured face as he pleases you out of your goddamn mind.

And right as you’re deciding that maybe this isn't so bad after all…he presses the vibrations up against your clit, and your nails immediately bury into the sheets as you pull and arch off the bed.

Dylan exhales slowly, his focus trained on the magic in front of him. You’re so fucking wet, absolutely soaking the toy. Soaking the bed beneath you. And it sounds like heaven. Like fucking music the way you say his name and beg for release.

However, he can't help glancing over his shoulder to see how much dear Harold is enjoying the show.

But Harry's got his eyes closed as he steadies his breathing, squirming around the bench as he rests his head against the wall behind him.

He considers forcing Harry to watch him, too, but he knows he will. Knows he won't be able to resist watching you cum around the toy as you lose your last drop of self-control.

He'll watch…because he's just as fucking desperate as you are.

So, Dylan returns his attention to you, adding even more pressure as you continue to cry out, writhing around so violently that he’s almost worried you’ll hurt yourself.

And it’s no surprise you’re close already. But while he'd love to edge you all night long, he knows he can't possibly edge himself any longer. He needs to feel you. Needs to feel you stretching around his cock. Needs to feel the way you soak him, hear his skin against yours, needs to fucking fill you with his cum and leave you swollen.

So…he will. He'll fucking abuse your tight little hole until it's practically molded to him and his cock. Until everyone (especially Harold) knows who your pleasure really belongs to.

It's an odd concept, truthfully. The idea that you’d want him to claim you the way he is now. Want him to protect you the way he is now.

But tonight…tonight you’re not just you and Dylan. Tonight you’re not just friends.

Tonight…you’re his good fucking girl.

His good girl who is eagerly waiting to taste him. Who would do anything he fucking asked. You’re a fucking dream for him. But you’re real, and Dylan can’t fucking believe he lived right next door to such a perfect girl all these years.

But now that he knows…he’s never letting you go again.

"C’mon, baby," he mumbles, leaning down to press his lips to your hip bone as you whimper. "I know you can do it. Give it to me, honey. Please. That’s it.”

He's actually begging you to cum and the raspy growl to his voice is what does it.

It hits you like a fucking truck, your head turning to the side as you nearly scream. Toes curling and fingers twisting around the sheets.

It has to last for at least a full minute, the overwhelming exhaustion that follows leaving you to gasp for air like never before.

But Dylan isn't allowing you even a moment of rest, instead tossing the vibrator to the side and tugging on your wrist until you’re forced to sit up.

You groan softly in protest at the way you’re not afforded the chance to revel in your orgasms. But before you can get too annoyed, Dylan is moving around to kneel behind you, pressing your back against his chest.

And it happens so suddenly. You hardly have time to understand as his hand reaches around to take hold of your throat and squeeze. The pressure just enough to make you gasp as he then forces your eyes on Harry.

"Look at him," Dylan whispers to you, almost viciously. "Isn't it so sad? Isn't it so fucking pathetic the way your poor little Harold leaks for you?"

You have to swallow another moan as your focus trails down Harry’s rigid body and toward the angry red tip practically calling out to you.

To both of you.

It truly is a sight to behold, and Harry grinds his teeth against the panties as you stare at him.

"Can't stand the idea of watching my cock ruin what he thinks is his," Dylan continues to taunt, making sure he has Harry’s full attention. "Can't fucking stand knowing that you cum for me…and me alone."

Your only response is to lean back further into him as if you can't possibly stay upright, and his grip gets tighter.

"You want that, too, hm?" he hums, letting himself inhale your intoxicating scent. It's a mixture of perfume, and sex, and Harry. He's all over you and it drives Dylan mad in the best and worst way possible.

He brushes his lips along your cheek for just a moment, wanting to give in and kiss you the way he's been thinking about all night…but he resists.

It's much more fun to leave your begging for more.

However this time, you’re the one to refuse. Refuse to waste another moment missing him. Refuse to go another second without the taste of his lips on yours.

So, you spin around. You spin around, and you move onto your hands and knees, and you force Dylan’s head to spin as he attempts to comprehend the new position.

You take hold of his hips and surge forward, dragging your tongue along his toned stomach, eager to hear the way his breath begins to stagger.

It’s like music, and you do it a time or two more, just to tease him.

You know he’s unsure of your plan, but he makes no move to stop you. After all, he couldn’t possibly fucking dream of stopping you now. Not when this is all he’s ever wanted anyway.

Harry watches with labored breaths, noticing the way Dylan's eyes widen and flutter as you move up his body. It's annoying, and aggravating, and so goddamn hot.

And Dylan could stare at your pretty pink tongue assaulting his skin for the rest of his life if he had the chance. But tonight, that’s not his plan.

You finally reach his neck, moving your sultry kisses to that spot just beneath his ear in hopes that he'll buckle beneath your touch. That he’ll finally give in.

But he sees it coming from a mile away. So, before you have the chance to use that pretty mouth against him, he suddenly grasps onto the back of her neck and tugs your head back, making you gasp.

Your jaw just about drops as you look up at him, now dripping pathetically down your thighs from the force, and from the way he's glaring at you.

"What did I fucking say?" he hisses, that dominant edge enough to leave you weak.

However, you can only respond with a shaky breath. And it the anxious noise would almost worry Dylan…if he didn't already what a fucking whore you were.

"Please," you finally find the strength to whisper as Dylan’s head tilts.

"Please…what, hm?" he replies, dipping down to ghost your lips together, exactly the way you wanted. "Does it hurt, baby?"

And even as he says it, you can feel the strange rush between your thighs. The way you feel so empty. The way your body is practically begging Dyaln to fill you. Fill you, fuck you, cum inside of you. Drip down your thighs, your throat, your fucking tits.

You whimper from the mere thought of it, and the dejected sound makes Dylan’s ego swell. You just need him to touch you. Need it. Your own fingers won’t do. They’re so small. So useless compared to him. Compared to anything he’ll give you. Even a look.

"Hurts," you repeat pathetically. "Please, Dyl."

His eyes dance across your expression as he thinks. "What do you need, lovie? Tell me."

But he already knows what you need. Who you need. But you know he wants to hear you say it.

And not for his benefit.

But Harry's.

So, you give him exactly what he’s searching for. "Need your cock, Dylan, please. Need you to ruin me, need it so fucking bad."

"Yeah? What else?" he pushes, nearly groaning. God, he loves hearing you beg. Loves watching the way your eyes go dark with lust. The way that sarcastic attitude of yours vanishes into thin air the moment he touches you.

"Need to taste you," you just about gasp, the idea alone making you shiver. "Need to feel your hands around my neck. Wanna see you on my skin for weeks."

"Yeah? Why?”

You know why. He knows why. Even Harry knows why, and he's this close to chipping a tooth at Dylan's little performance.

But you say it anyway.

"Because I'm yours."

There it is. Exactly what Dylan wanted. Your pussy, your mouth, you—all of it is his.

Not Harry's.

With this thought, he straightens up onto his knees so he can well and truly tower over you before tugging once more on your hair for good measure.

“Show him.”

With that, he lets go so you can comply, and like the good fucking girl you are, your immediately hands fall to his briefs.

Harry's focus follows, already glaring as he watches Dylan smile at you.

And you’re so fucking excited. Can barely keep your fingers from trembling as you pull the elastic band down his thighs.

He's hard, and red, and ready. He's wanted this since before he saw you tonight in the club. Since he first heard you fuck yourself in the shower just this morning and now, he's gonna give you exactly what you’d been imagining while you did it.

Forcing Harry to watch is just a happy coincidence.

"Turn around," Dylan instructs, nodding his chin toward the other side of the bed.

Your heart races when you realize what he wants, and you can’t help but swallow a small moan as you turn around and steady yourself on your hands and knees.

He quickly grabs onto your hips and gives you exactly half a second to prepare before he’s brushing his tip through your wet folds.

You reel at the faint contact, already unraveling from such a small touch.

And truth be told, he’d tease you all goddamn night if he could, but he’s beginning to lose his control. So, he once again reaches forward to grasp a fistful of your hair and yank your head up until you’re facing Harry.

Then, with a growl, he says, "You watch him. You fucking watch him while you clench around my cock. You watch him while I fuck you. Do you understand?"

You try to nod, but his grip is too tight. "Yes," you pant instead, eyes already locking on Harry's. “Yes, I promise.”

Harry lets out a slow breath.

Satisfied, Dylan finally allows himself to give in to everything he's been wanting. With one hand on your head, and the other on your hip, he surges forward, and buries his cock inside your aching cunt.

And the moment he feels you…everything changes. He likes to think he’d been doing so good, but you’re so fucking…tight. And warm. And wet. And fucking squeezing the shit out of him in a way that makes his head pound.

“Fuck…Dylan,” you whisper, so overcome by the pressure in your stomach that you’re not even aware you said it until he curses.

“M’so fucking good to you,” he breathes, unweaving his fingers from your hair so he can scratch down your spine. “Take such good care of you, don’t I?”

“Yes.” You can’t stand it. Can’t breathe, can’t see straight.

"I let him watch you just the way you like," he continues, and your eyes roll back. "Because you do, don’t you? Like to be watched like the pretty little whore you are. Makes you feel so fucking good, doesn't it?"

“Fuck,” is about all you can muster when he slams his hips into your ass.

"I let him watch," he murmurs, still thrusting into you so hard, and so deep that you’re convinced he might actually ruin you. "I let him watch me use what's mine. Let him watch you soak me. Let him see exactly what it looks like to own you. That's what you want, isn't it, princess?"

Your answer comes in the form of another gut-wrenching moan, the sound echoing through the room right as he grazes her g-spot, sending you down onto your forearms.

Harry's breathing is getting heavier, the underwear in his mouth now truly soaked from his drool while his cock is still aggressively aggravated beyond belief. It's fucking torture sitting so close yet so far away. Forced to watch you have all the fun.

But there's also something rather…addicting about watching Dylan clench his jaw when he thrusts, or feels you clench, or hears you moan his name.

And both you and Harry become quite mesmerized by the way Dylan's muscles flex whenever he pulls at your hip or pushes your head down onto the mattress, forcing your cheek taut against the silk. The way his strong thighs hold him up as he thrusts into you. The way beads of sweat are beginning to form around his hairline, forcing locks of messy brown hair to fall across his forehead.

And the noises he's making...low grunts of pleasure followed by rather animalistic moans.

You decide then that he’s got a great sex voice.

Dylan, however, doesn’t notice any of the staring. Instead, much more concerned with the way he's already so close to filling you up and spilling right out. And even more focused on the way he’s beginning to wish this night would never end.

If he had it his way, you’d fuck all night. Over and over and over, until you were raw and weepy. Until the tears were staining your cheeks as you scratched patterns down his back. Until Harry, and the whole fucking club knew exactly who your pussy belongs to.

But he fears this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Once you leave this room...the fun comes to an end. He doubts you’ll ever speak of it again, so he figures he needs to make every second count.

"Look at him," Dylan finally orders, calling your attention back to Harry's face. "Look at the way he wants to taste you on my cock. How he wants anything I'll let him have. But you're mine, aren't you? Fucking tell him. Tell him who you were really made for."

You can’t seem to speak, your tongue going numb as you subconsciously beg him to go harder.

Sensing that you need the encouragement, he leans down once more, brushing your hair off your back before pressing a rather delicate kiss to your shoulder. "Aren't I good to you? Sharing you the way I do? Letting him watch?"

You nod vehemently as you whimper, and he can’t help but smirk as he glances over to the man on the bench, who merely huffs angrily.

Suddenly, Dylan is reaching around to grab onto your jaw for a second time as he forces your head to the side so you can see him. "But this tight little hole? It's fucking mine. Isn't it? Yeah? Say it then. Tell him who you really want."

"You," you breathe instantaneously. And maybe tomorrow morning you’ll feel differently, but right now you really are his and only his.

"Good girl," he hums, releasing her chin. "But I think Harold's a visual learner. Think you need to fucking show him. Show him that I'm good to you. Show him that he's never gonna be good enough for you."

Without warning, you hear yourself moaning his name, your body stretching out across the mattress so you can take him deeper. It's too fucking good, too much to comprehend, but you do know that you’re close.

And Dylan knows it, too. And he wishes he could see the look on your face, but the view of your ass is a rather good second option. So, he watches his cock slip in and out out of you. Coated in you as it stretches you from the inside out.

He moves to grope your skin softly as praise before giving it a firm smack, just so he can hear the sound and hear the way you groan with pleasure.

Even Harry growls to himself as he looks away...although he immediately looks back, refusing to miss a second of it. Much to Dylan's amusement.

"You're close, aren't you?" Dylan taunts, reaching for the vibrator as you nod. "Attagirl, c'mon now."

The vibrator is on your clit within seconds, and even without him having to ask, you grind down against the toy with fervor. Lip between your teeth as you revel in how perfectly he fills you while your cunt is sent into overdrive. It’s so much, so perfect, so overwhelming that you have no other choice but to ball the sheets in your fists to brace yourself.

Your hips move up and down the vibrating object as he pushes you even further into that blissful state. Almost…so close…just a little further…and then you’re fucking gone.

Dylan cna feel you fluttering around his cock, and the second he sees you dripping down your silky skin…he follows.

So many sounds fill the space. His needy groans and your whimpers of pleasure. You can’t help but reach back and tangle your fingers in his damp hair when he brings himself close enough to you. Needing to share this with him every way you know how.

And it’s a beautiful moment for the two of you. Connected completely as he fills you, spills inside of you, drips down your thighs exactly the way he’d wanted to.

And then…there’s Harry.

He’s begun to grow antsy, assuming that now that it’s over…it’s finally his turn.

But the two of you take your time on the bed as you regroup and work to catch your breath. Almost as if you’ve forgotten he’s even still in the room.

But, finally, Dylan’s content gaze trails over and finds him. And in that moment, Harry’s breath catches as he pulls his eyebrows together.

Dylan can’t help but smile as he takes in the writhing man before you. The way Harry’s hands are balled into fists and his black shirt unbuttoned just enough to showcase his sweaty chest and tattoos.

It’s almost…entertaining.

Dylan leans down to press a kiss to your shoulder once more before murmuring, "Stay right here, darling. Don't fucking move."

You nod weakly as you straighten back up onto your hands while Dylan begins to pull out.

He's still at least halfway hard, which isn't very surprising, and he's sure with a little time, he'll be ready to ruin you again.

He stands from the bed, lazily pushing his hair back as moves toward Harry, who watches with weary eyes.

"Don't worry," Dylan hums with a smug smile, but Harry's expression merely darkens.

Undeterred, Dylan’s hand comes to rest on the back of the bench near Harry's shoulder as he leans down, bringing their faces much closer than ever before.

In return, Harry’s head tilts up as if defying Dylan's very presence, and Dylan has to chuckle.

"I'm gonna let you go," he tells him. "And you know what you're gonna do?"

Harry answers by huffing out a strained breath.

Dylan smiles. "You're gonna fuck your fist while we watch."

Their eyes lock together for at least a minute if not more as Harry attempts to decipher Dylan’s true intentions.

But his intentions are honest, and he quickly moves for the restraints on Harry’s wrist so he can click them up, and set him free.

Harry’s wrist drops to his side, lashes flutter with sweet relief as Dylan moves to the other hand to repeat the process.

And once both Harry’s hands are free, he lifts his fingers to his mouth, takes the panties out, and throws them onto the floor.

"Fuck you," is the first thing he decides to say and Dylan snorts.

"I think you mean, thank you," he corrects as he straightens up. "You wanna cum, right? Then go ahead. Cum all over your pretty hand."

With that, Dylan turns around and heads back to the bed where you await, your expression curious as you watch the exchange.

In all honesty, you had expected any interaction between the two of them to be much more hostile, but you’re pleasantly surprised by the way they seem to be getting along.

Especially because they're two of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen and watching them fight for control has to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

Dylan is back at your side within seconds as you roll over onto your back to look up at him.

He places his hand near her head, hovering above you once more as he whispers, "How do you feel, honey?"

"Good," you answer honestly, reaching up to run your fingers down his cheek. "You're so good to me."

"I know," he retorts with a teasing smirk, before dipping down to graze his lips over your bottom one. "Can't fucking stand not feeling you around me. Let me?"

At first, you’re confused by the request until you recognize the hopeful look on his face, and put the pieces together.

You nod and part your legs once again to allow him in, and he’s much gentler this time around. Guiding himself inside, easing in with great care before pulling your hips taut to his.

And you’re so fucking warm. Exactly the way he wanted. And it feels so…complete.

Not to mention, there’s something rather…enticing about knowing Harry’s still only a few feet away. Fisting his cock as he watches Dylan keep his cock warm inside you.

But you hardly notice Harry right now, much too distracted by the way Dylan is finally leaning down to kiss you the way he hadn’t been.

When your lips meet, it’s soft, and tender, and sweet. Even when he nips at the pink flesh so you’ll let him in, his tongue dancing with yours as he deepens the kiss in the same way he’s deep inside you.

And Harry watches. Watches as Dylan plays with your tit in his large hand, his fingers rolling your nipple around the pads of his thumb. Watches as you sigh and wrap you legs around his waist to pull him in even further. Watches Dylan look up at him as you kiss down his neck.

The smug son of a bitch knows exactly what he's doing and much to Harry's chagrin...it's working.

After spitting in his hand, Harry runs his palm up and down his hard cock, squeezing the tip as his head falls back into the wall from the building pleasure.

And in this moment, you all…exist. So much sex and understanding and…peace.

You devote your final moments to making Dylan feel good, running your hands and lips along his body as he smiles down at you.

Dylan keeps his eyes on the movement as he does so, sensing that eye contact is one of Harry's turn-ons. And who is Dylan to deny such a pleasure?

Once in a while, you’ll roll your head back to get a glance at Harry. And you’re so happy he kept that satin shirt of his on because the way his sleeves are rolled up to showcase the veins in his arms is sinful. Almost as sinful as the way his chest heaves with anticipation or the way his cock looks in front of it.

He’s so close to ruining the nice outfit with the way his movements are becoming faster and more sporadic. He’s trying to hold off, loving the way he’s being watched by you. But it’s been far too fucking long, and his body can’t take it any longer.

Dylan groans as you lick a stripe along his jaw, his own lashes fluttering as he buries his lip into your neck.

His hands smooth up your stomach and chest before they find their place back on your throat for a final time. He kisses you hard and deep as you whimper against his mouth, pulling him in by your legs once more.

"So good," Dylan whispers, although he's not sure who he's talking to. "So fucking good for me."

But both you and Harry bask in his praise, with you gazing up at him as you run her fingers through his hair while Harry sucks in a breathless whine, dick twitching in his hand.

When he finally cums, the three of you begin to relax. To make peace with the strange occurance of the evening.

To make peace with the understanding that it won’t happen again.

Or…maybe it will.

After all…

What are sex clubs for?

Thought I'd give this story a little x Reader makeover! In case it wasn't already blatantly obvious, I am in love with both of these men 😭

Dedicated to @straightontilmornin for being nice enough to want this with me 😭

~ Other Harry and Dylan Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

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bakugoyelling · 6 months

Text

A Quest for Critters

Giyuu Tomioka x Reader

Warnings: Fem! reader, Reader wears a skirt, Established Relationship, Just slice of life fluff really!

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: You and Giyuu go out to buy some Calico Critters (ᵔᴥᵔ)

Dressed in dark jeans and a t-shirt, Giyuu leans into the bathroom to peek at you.

“Ready to go?” he asks, watching through the mirror as you apply the last of your makeup.

“Uh huh,” you hum while dabbing on your lipstick, the color staining your lips as you press them together. Finished with your look, you turn around to face him.

“I just need to get my purse, and then we can leave, okay?”

Handsome as always, his eyes fall to your lips as you pucker them, coaxing him in for a kiss. Soft and gentle, his lips press against yours before pulling back, his gaze set on yours as he gently smiles.

“Alright,” he nods.

It’s a warm August afternoon, and as planned the night before, you and your boyfriend are heading out for a few hours — to the nearby bookstore, the only place in town where you can find Calico Critters. The adorable flocked toys decorate various areas of your room. Placed among your perfumes and creams, they sit beside the everyday items. You’ve even decorated Giyuu’s bedside table with one — a baby black cat in a blue outfit.

And while you enjoy collecting them, you still only have a few. Since you prefer to get them in stores rather than online, you don't buy them that often. But that's okay because when you do plan on purchasing them, it makes for a fun day out. Plus, it gives you the perfect excuse to dress up in something cute. Days like this are always something to look forward to with your beloved.

“I like your little skirt, by the way. It looks cute on you,”

A coy smile graces your features at the compliment, and Giyuu chuckles as you thank him.

Heading out the door, he wonders how he got so lucky — such a pretty girl, and he gets to call you his girlfriend.

Twenty minutes later, you arrive at your destination, your fingers laced with Giyuu’s as you enter the familiar bookstore, the nutty scent of coffee welcoming you from the nearby cafe. The sectioned-off area where other patrons sit and read or quietly chatter. The atmosphere here always calms you — peaceful and quiet. You enjoy spending time here.

“I hope they have the ones I want,” you mutter while getting distracted, stopping in front of a shelf of stationery supplies to pick up a box of gel pens. The shades are pretty, and you can always use a new pen, but then again, you don’t necessarily need them.

“Which ones did you want again?” Giyuu asks as you set the pens back into their spot, letting you grab his hand while you continue wandering around.

“The rabbits. I didn’t get them last time, so now I really, really want them. Did you want to check out any books while we’re here?

“No, I’m good,”

“You sure? They have sudoku books,” You turn to him with a softened expression, looking up at him with an excited glimmer in your eyes.

The acknowledgment of one of his lesser-known hobbies has him blooming with warmth. He did mention that he completed his last book of the kind about a month ago.

“Actually, yeah, let’s look. I need a new one for work. I finished the last one you got me not too long ago.”

His muted enthusiasm has you smiling, happy as you lead the way over to the puzzle books so he can browse.

When you first started dating, Giyuu tried to play off his interest in sudoku. At times, his coworker, Shinazugawa, would poke fun at the hobby, proclaiming that it made Giyuu even more of a bore. And while Shinazugawa does still comment on the interest, it doesn’t bother your boyfriend as much as it used to. Especially after you giggled while completing a puzzle with him one day, the corners of your eyes creased as you told him, “You know, in middle school, I was a part of the sudoku club.”

A few minutes later, he settles on a new book of the number placement puzzles — the pages crisp, little square boxes ready to be written on.

“This one looks good,” he reads over the front cover with a nod, his hands clutching onto the spine as he flips it over to check the back — 300 puzzles should do it for now.

“Alright, now…back to your critters.”

Grabbing his hand, you lean into his side and chuckle, his focus on the task at hand making you smile, “Right! Back to the important stuff,”

Although, while continuing toward the small animal toys, you can’t help but go off track, shelves, and shelves of other items of interest catching your attention.

“Oh my gosh, Giyuu, look,” kneeling, you reach down, grabbing a blind box with a series of cat figurines printed across it.

“It’s the only one! Let’s get it,” you say, peering up at him excitedly. “I’m gonna buy it for you, okay?”

“But, don’t you want it?” He wonders.

“No, I’m getting the critters, remember. So, we need to get you something cute too!” Standing up again, you hand him the mystery box, already settled on purchasing it.

He must admit, the last toy you purchased like this was quite cute. And opening them up is rather thrilling.

“Okay, maybe I’ll get something cool,” He rotates the box in hand as you continue weaving through the aisles, lifting his gaze when he hears you gasp.

“Look! Here they are!”

Following your voice, he turns the corner and is quickly met with the view of you happily picking up different sets of the toys you came here for, admiring all of their intricate details. It’s nice seeing you so immersed in the act. Giyuu knows how much you enjoy collecting Calico Critters — when you were first getting to know each other, you were afraid he would find the interest weird, too childish of a thing for someone your age to be into. But he thought it was endearing, a wholesome part of your personality that, like all the other parts of you — he had fallen in love with.

“Do they have the rabbit family?” your brows furrow in question as you mumble to yourself, carefully scanning the shelf in search of them.

Your determination urges Giyuu to try and help, and while you kneel, he checks the areas on top, pushing boxes around until, hidden behind a trio of tiny mice wrapped in blankets, he finds the ones you're looking for.

“They have them!” His voice tinges with joy as he pulls the box down for you.

“No way! Let me see,”

Passing it to you, he watches your lips part in awe, a light squeal emanating from your throat in celebration.

“Eee, this is them! We found them, oh my gosh, they’re so cute! Good job looking up there, babe,”

He smiles as you thank him, your lips quickly pecking his cheek before you pull back to check out some of the other sets. You still have a few on your wishlist, but it appears they aren't in stock yet. So, with your newly acquired rabbit family, you and Giyuu head back to the front of the store, ready to check out.

“We should come back in a few weeks. Maybe they’ll have the Halloween set by then,”

“I’ll be sure to check behind the baby mice again,” He quips while you head to the register, a soft chuckle falling past your lips as the young lady working greets you.

When she finishes bagging everything, Giyuu takes hold of the plastic bag while she hands you your receipt, the two of you thanking her in unison.

“Would you like to get something to drink while we’re here?” With the scent of coffee still prevalent in the air, Giyuu thinks it would be nice to extend your day out with a treat.

“Sure, we can get something to eat too. We can try those sandwiches they have,” holding hands yet again, you spend a moment looking over the menu, chatting over your choices before deciding what to order.

Once served, you settle into the seats of the nearby corner table, where, while sipping on his drink, you urge your boyfriend to open the blind box you got him. When you hand him the mystery toy, he studies the graphics printed on the package before tearing it open. His large hands rip open the opaque plastic bag that lay inside while you watch in anticipation, waiting for the reveal.

Seconds later, a soft laugh escapes him as he pulls out the figure — a small black cat holding a single shrimp tempura.

“Aww, Giyuu, it’s so cute! It looks like you! Look at his little blue eyes,”

You wipe your fingers off any crumbs before reaching over to hold the tiny cat, smiling as you hold it up in comparison.

“Look, you’re practically twins! Do you like him?”

“I do,” He stares at the figure as you hand it back to him. “I think I’ll put him on my desk at work,”

Setting the cat down on the table, Giyuu replaces it with his sandwich, taking a large bite and swallowing before he continues, “He can guard the sudoku books,”

A crumb sticks to his lip as he smiles, his gentle humor and the grain of bread pressed to his skin making you giggle — dates like these are always your favorite.

— please do not modify or repost my work

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: Hehehe, another self-indulgent one-shot! I always think about what it's like to go on little shopping trips with Giyuu, so this was really fun to write! I was surprised at how long it turned out too, so I thought it would be nice to share. Anyway, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please let me know! Your kind comments are always appreciated.

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#giyuu tomioka x reader #tomioka giyuu x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #giyuu x reader #giyu tomioka x reader #tomioka giyu x reader #kny fluff #demon slayer fluff

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vacationship · 5 months

Text

Claire got fake numbered and she’s brutal af

I'm sorry, someone anyone tell me this scene is not BRUTAL just on the page. To anyone that says Claire is just being playful or assertive or not limited by gender rules (Molly Gordon included though generally I like her take on things) ... I want to say just read the scene without the pretty girl to look at and see what's right here. She is alternately coy and aggressive because she's probably a mean girl, and she can't stand that he fake numbered her and she won't let him get away with it because she's entitled to his attention and help? It's not cute. She acts like she really wants his consent to have his number in the middle somewhere but honestly that is like perfunctory and performative at that point. And she goes right back to tease-bullying him.

I hold my breath and wince the whole way through this scene, every time. It is blow after blow, under the guise of being what? Empowered and direct? Or she just doesn't know the impact she's having? Has her teenage brain taken over? Because she doesn't really know Carmy, or care what being Carmy is actually like for Carmy. Maybe some other asshole would handle her BS differently. No but it's sooooooo uncomfortable for Carmy and for ME. WHAT IS THIS?!

I know there have been many very nuanced reads on this scene, but honestly it's so uncomfortable for me that I can't even think, it's just stuns me how actually brutal this scene is. Like did she treat him this way in High School? Anyway I fucking typed it out…

Hello

Did you really give me a fake number?

Claire?

Should my feelings be hurt? I think they're hurt.

No. No, no, no. Sorry, no. That must have, uh, been a mistake.

You know I know your entire family and all the Faks, right?

You know all the Faks?

Yeah, I know all the fuckin' Faks. And they're gonna beat you up.

There are, um, there are a lot of Faks. Yeah.

Why, just walk me through, giving me a fake number. Why?

No, no. 'Cause I, um I didn't mean, I didn't mean for that to happen.

I'm-I'm-I'm sorry. It was a mistake, okay?

Thank you. I really appreciate that. Well, I was originally calling before I found out I got fake numbered and had to ask Neil for your real number to ask if you were busy today. So now I have two questions.

Shoot, yeah.

Okay. One, is it okay that I have your number, or did you really not want me to have your number?

No, no, no, not. It's a-- I want you, I want you to have my number.

Okay, say that one more time.

I want you to have my number.

Okay. Cool. Are you busy today?

Um. So, I'm, I um.

Okay, can you just not make this weird? Like, I just need a favor. My cousin bailed on me.

....

Do you still have that van?

Yes. No, we do. We still have that van. Um, I am... in.

Really?

Yeah. Yeah, really.

Okay, I'll text you the address.

No, no, I know where it is.

Are you sure? 'Cause I'm worried about your number issue.

I know where it is.

You know what? I'll give my address to Fak. And then he can give it to you. Does that sound good? And then punch you in the face. Does that sound good?

No, no, I don't need Fak.

You know, he, um, he told me that you guys are really close and that he's your best friend.

Fak said that?

Mh-hmm.

No, no, no. Fak's not my best friend.

Really?

No, no, he is. He's probably my best friend.

That's interesting. To sit with. For you. Um, okay. I, uh, I will see you soon then?

Yeah, I'll see you soon.

Okay.

Okay, bye.

Bye. (hangs up)

Fuck.

#sydcarmy #anti Claire bear #whatever I’m not protecting clairecarmys but don’t actually want anyone coming at me

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year

Text

Pairing : Choi San x F!Reader TW : pregnancy ; arguing ; heavy angst ; car accident ; reader dies at the end ; Word Count : 3.8k A/N : ->I WOULD HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING THE TWS! PLEASE! SOME PEOPLE SKIP OVER THEM, PLEASE DON'T DO THAT! I HAVE NO CHILL WITH MY ANGST SOMETIMES!

“I gotta go to the office real quick…”

“Of course you do…” You sat on the couch, the bowl of grapes that you had been mindlessly popping into your mouth was perched atop your swollen stomach. You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, and you thought that with the numbered days and the uncertainty of whether you’d actually make it to your due date that San would have chosen staying home with you to make sure he’d be there in case your water broke. Instead, he had been going to work more frequently, as if he was trying to find any reason he could to be out of the house and away from you.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His footsteps had paused right at the front door, and most of the time you’d stay quiet, waiting for him to leave before rambling to yourself about how shitty he was. There wasn’t really anything different about today, you had simply grown tired of waiting and hoping that he’d finally show some sort of interest over the life he had away from work.

“What do you think it means, San?” You retorted back, turning your head to look over your shoulder at him. His eyebrows were raised, as if he were testing you to say something else, testing you to let this argument keep going when it could easily be forgotten about, by him, when he walked out the door. “It’s always gotta go to the office, gotta go meet up with the guys, gotta go practice my dances, gotta go record a new part.”

The overexaggerated mocking of his voice clearly had him ticked off, and he quickly shimmied out of his coat, letting it drop to the floor as he walked over to the couch to stand behind you, his eyes narrowed and his voice rising in volume. “So it’s a problem now? You’re so fucking bored that you gotta find a problem in anything to entertain yourself.”

You scoffed loudly, placing the bowl of grapes to the side so you could push yourself up off the couch to go stand in front of him, your stomach the only thing keeping you from getting in his face at this point. “I’m not fucking bored! I’m pregnant with your fucking twins!” The way he rolled his eyes, the coy smirk that played on his face as you yelled at him like he was finding enjoyment in your aggravation. It was blood boiling. “You think you’re so great, you’re Gods gift to mankind… You’re shit where it matters most.”

His sarcastic chuckle was only proof of how much he didn’t care, how he thought this was nothing less than a comedic waste of his time. “That’s not what you thought 3 years ago, and it’s not what you thought 7 months ago… Is it?” His eyes flicked down between your face and your stomach, the smirk on his face had your hand twitching, wanting nothing more than to smack it off. “But if you think I’m such shit… You can leave. I’m not keeping you here.”

So that’s how he was going to be? Of all things that you could have thought he’d say, you never thought that would be one of them. “Fine… But when you get home from whatever the fuck you do at the office and realize that I’m not here… Don’t call me. I’m fucking done with you. I’m over it, I’m over all of this.”

He snorted loudly, walking over to pick his coat up off the floor and put his shoes on. “Sure you are.” He mocked, grabbing his keys off the hook and walking out the door. There wasn’t an I love you, there wasn’t even a goodbye muttered over his shoulder. He simply walked out, and that’s exactly what you were planning on doing too.

You weren’t even sure how you were supposed to go about getting everything that you needed. It’s not like you could pack up all the cribs and stuff that had already been put together in the nursery, not by yourself, and not in the little sedan that you had. You could only pack what you needed right now and think of the other things later.

The baby’s clothes were thrown into the suitcase that had been on the floor, already half filled with the clothes that you’d be taking. You had already called your mom to ask if you could come stay with her for a bit, and she had offered to pick you up herself, but you knew that it would only take longer that way and you didn’t want to risk San coming back home, knowing that it would only turn into another argument.

You weren’t even supposed to be driving at this stage of your pregnancy, the doctors had told you that it would be dangerous, and considering your water could break at any point, they didn’t think that it would be safe for you to be behind the wheel of any car on any road. Maybe that’s why San had so carelessly said what he did, why he seemed so unbothered when he walked out the door. He didn’t think you’d actually leave, but he was wrong. You weren’t going to stay in a relationship where one side clearly didn’t care about the other. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, and he clearly wasn’t ready to be a father, especially not to the twins that you were carrying.

The snarky attitude that he had carried on his way out the front door had completely diminished once he was by himself in the car, and with it gone, it only left room for his annoyance. Not just with you, but with himself. You weren’t taking into consideration that it was a hard transition for him to make, being a full-time idol and having to prepare himself to become a father to 2 kids in less than a month. Of course, you were the one truly having to deal with all the changes, not just in your lifestyle, but your body, your hormones, everything. Sometimes he needed to go to work, just to get away from it all for a bit. It was strange how work became his place of relaxation now with everything going on.

He should have talked to you about the way he was feeling, he knew that you’d listen, you always did no matter what he wanted to talk about. He hadn’t given you that opportunity to listen though, and now the two of you were arguing again. It seems like that’s all you were able to do now. As soon as one of your mouths opened, the only words that came out were ones that would inflict some kind of pain or cause anger. It never used to be this way, and he knew that the stress of the upcoming and unavoidable change was the main factor that caused all of this, but that didn’t make it any better.

“Bad day?” Hongjoong asked when San walked into the practice room, all the eyes of the other members on him as he dropped his practice bag on the floor and headed right to the water cooler. All of the guys knew about you, they had been so excited to hear about your pregnancy as well, looking forward to 2 brand new family members that they could spoil. What they didn’t know about was the constant arguing, and usually San was able to hide his frustrations whenever he got to work, but today that wasn’t the case. “Is Y/N alright?”

San huffed loudly at the mention of your name, his neck twisting sharply to stare at Hongjoong. “Don’t.” He exhaled the word, glaring at the leader. “I just… Can we get things done quickly?” He muttered, wanting to get home to you as soon as possible. Hopefully you’d both have cooled off by the time he was done there and he would finally be able to open up to you about what was bothering you. It’s better late than never… right?

Practice didn’t go by as quickly as he wanted it to, he and the guys ended up going out to a nearby cafe to get a quick bite to eat. It only frustrated him more considering he had been trying to get in touch with you the past hour and you haven’t responded. Surely you wouldn’t have actually left him, he had heard the doctors orders as clearly as you had, and unless someone came to get you, you wouldn’t have left the house.

The television in the cafe was playing, and while San usually wouldn’t pay any attention to what was on, he quickly realized that whatever was on the screen was important. Every customer and employee were standing right beneath it, their hands covering their mouths as their eyes widened at the scene that was currently being filmed by the helicopter.

It was horrific, the mangled carcass of the small car that hadn’t stood a chance against the truck that was now sitting on top of it. The car was unrecognizable, and San couldn’t help but stare, much like everyone else in the cafe, unable to pull his eyes away from the sad scene.

“I bet it was a drunk driver…” “That poor person in the car though…” “I hope it was quick for them.” The voices of patrons murmured, and the atmosphere was suffocatingly morbid. There hadn’t been any information given out yet about either of the people driving, and others were already saying that one of them was dead? Of course, he could see how they’d think that, but it didn’t change the fact that people were talking as if this person didn’t stand a chance. Miracles could happen.

“That’s so sad…” Wooyoung shook his head as he sat down at the table, the first one of all of them that was able to pry his eyes away from the television. “It looks like it was on your street, San.” He pointed out, and when San stared at the screen a little longer, he was able to pinpoint certain store fronts that he’d go by every day to get to and from work.

He huffed out a curse, dreading the traffic that he knew would be backed up. “Do you want to start heading home now so that you can make it there by dinner time?” Hongjoong asked, watching as San pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m sure Y/N will understand if you’re a little bit late coming home. There’s no way she hasn’t seen or heard about what’s going on. Just… Start heading home, and text me when you get there so I know you made it through.”

San nodded, sparing one last look at the tv screen before walking out of the cafe. It was crazy how fast life could be taken from people. Now that he was alone with his thoughts, he wondered about the person that had been driving the car. Did that person have someone in their life that meant the world to them? Did that person have a family? You never know if today would be your last day with the ones that you love, you shouldn’t take that for granted.

Those thoughts had San rushing to his car. He wanted you to know he loved you, how much you meant to him, how happy he was that you were in his life. There’s no one else in the world that he’d rather spend every single day with, and the more he thought about it, the more foolish he felt about the argument that he had with you this morning. All you had wanted was for him to stay home with you, and he had gotten mad about that. He’d make sure to make it up to you, to spend as much time with you as he could.

It took almost an hour and a half for traffic to start moving, and by moving, it was simply inching forward. His foot had grown tired from pressing down on the brake for so long, and most people had just turned off their engines while waiting.

The flashing lights from the police vehicles and the firetrucks and the ambulances reflected off shop windows, and there were lines of people standing on the sidewalk behind the police tape trying to get a view of the wreck sight. People's morbid curiosity never failed to baffle him, he didn’t understand why anyone would want to see anything that had happened there, especially not up close.

He refused to look at the scene when he drove past it, keeping his eyes straight ahead. The last thing he wanted to see was the body, or bodies of the people or person that had been in the car. He needed to keep his mind clear, he needed to focus on just getting to you, being home with you.

By the time he finally got to the house the sun was setting, a view that he loved to share with you on the back porch or laying on a blanket, your head nestled perfectly against his shoulder as his fingers absentmindedly played with your hair, your eyes marveling at the tangerine and cotton candy pink clouds that moved slowly across the darkening sky.

He missed those days, and the saddest part was that he's the only one keeping them from happening. Nothing was stopping him from spending evenings with you, nothing was stopping him from spending any time with you at all. The only thing stopping him was himself. He’d change that though, he’d spend more time with you, he’d hold you and tell you how beautiful you are, how much you meant to him, how much he loved you, how lucky he is to spend every single day with you.

He parked the car, his eyes glancing back in the rear view mirror at the continued flashing emergency lights, and then down at the two car seats that had been set up in the back seats for a month already. Those seats once had a feeling of panic setting into him, questioning whether he’d be a good enough father, a good enough supporter for you. Now the sight of those seats made him feel warm, even a little bit fuzzy. You were his, he was starting his own family with you, and he’d be able to get through it with you by his side. Everything would be okay.

It was like a race, getting up to the house, his smile wide as he anticipated seeing you. It was completely different from the way he left, and he hoped that you’d understand, that you’d listen to his reasoning, to his apology. He was ready to be better, to live happily in the life that the two of you had created together.

The door was pushed open and the orange hue of sunlight was cast across the hardwood floors. “Babe?!” He called out for you, looking around the living room. The bowl of grapes were still sitting on the couch, you must still be there, you probably just had to use the bathroom. He moved further into the house, peeking into the bathroom and seeing that it was empty. So was the bedroom. The last room to check was the nursery, and when he walked in, he saw the closets had been opened, and not just that, but outfits that had once been neatly hung and color organized on the racks were now gone. “Y/N…?” Your name was now whispered as his stomach and his heart seemed to tighten, bile rising in his throat. Did you actually leave him? Did you truly believe that that’s what he wanted you to do?

He backed out of the room, his back hitting the wall behind him before he sprinted to the front door, throwing it open and finally realizing that your car wasn’t parked. He was so excited about going in and seeing you that he hadn’t even noticed… How had he missed it? His phone started vibrating in his pocket, and he wished that it was you, pulling it out and looking at the name on his screen. Hongjoong.

“I made it home… Don’t worry…” San muttered into the receiver, trying to sound as calm as he possibly could, but his throat was closing up and his eyes were becoming blurry with tears as he looked at the empty parking spot where your car had once been.

“That’s good… Did you talk to her?” The question had San swallowing back the bile that was making its way further up his throat. No, he didn’t talk to you, he didn’t get to, and right now he didn’t even know where you were which was terrifying to him.

“I’m kind of busy right now… I’ll text you later.” San said, ending the call before Hongjoong could ask any questions. Would you have gone to your parents? Maybe your friends? He didn’t know any of their numbers off hand, and the fact that you didn’t even let him know where you were going, you didn’t want him to find you. He really fucked up this time, and now he was in the dark and you were the only light that he wanted.

The keys were still in his pocket, and while he dreaded the thought of having to drive back through the traffic jam caused my the accident, he needed to get to your parents place, maybe you were there, he hoped that you were there.

Traffic idled slowly past the accident, back to back brake lights illuminated the road, and he was sure that things were only moving slower because everyone just wanted to get a good view. People were sick, how could anyone look at that?

As he moved closer, the model of the car, even being mangled, the make of the car, the color… His heart that had been sinking so slowly into the pit of his stomach lurched up into his throat. It wasn’t just the model and the make though, that would have been able to be written off as a coincidence… It was the license plate that had been slightly dangling off the back of the car. He knew those numbers, he had went with you to get those numbers recently and helped put them on the back of your car.

Tears were already flowing as he veered off to the side of the road, officers and paramedics trying to stop him from climbing out of his car, but he couldn’t be stopped. He threw the car door open and ran over to the car, it was your car. The truck that had hit you was already pulled off to the side, completely unscathed. The driver's side door of your car was in the process of being pried off.

“Sir, get back in your car!” The officer shouted, trying to keep San from moving any closer, but he was a force to be reckoned with at this point, using all of his weight to push against the officer, trying to get closer. “Sir!”

“No!” San screamed, pushing back against the office and rushing towards your car, wishing that he hadn’t when he saw you, falling to his knees beside your door, his sobs choked off as he doubled over. “Please… Please! God! No! Fuck!” He shouted, unable to control his emotions. The glass that had shattered upon impact was imbedding itself into his knees, the slight stinging wasn’t nearly as painful as losing you, living a life without you in it. How was he even supposed to navigate through life without you?

“Sir, we’re gonna need you to move. We need to get her out of there…” The officer that had tried to pull him away now took on a more sympathetic tone, realizing clearly what was going on. San couldn’t move though, it was like his legs were nothing more than noodles and the rest of him was like lead. “Please…”

“Will it make a difference?” He muttered, his movements zombie-like as he pushed himself up off the ground, his jeans bloodied from the cuts he got when he landed on the glass, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying so much. “Will she live? Will the babies live?” The officer's eyes widened, immediately looking through the window of the back seat of your car, and San only shook his head as he sniffled loudly. “She was pregnant… The twins… She…” His breaths were shaky, and they came so fast he was getting light headed, he was on the verge of passing out. “I’ve lost everything… Didn’t I…?”

The officer's eyes drifted down to the ground, his head bowed. “I’m so sorry sir, I truly am.” That was the first sorry that San had heard, but it surely wouldn’t be the last, at least not for a while. He never understood why people apologize for things like this. It’s not like they were the ones who had done it, and no amount of sorries would bring you back. You were gone…

He sat on the edge of the curb, watching as bright orange sparks flew up in the air, the skin crawling sound of steel against steel as when firefighters cut into the hood of the car. They had tried their best to pry the door off, but they couldn’t. There was no hope, although he had given up on that anyway. All he could do was wait for them to pull you out so he could say his final goodbyes, the goodbyes that should have been said to you as he walked out the front door this morning, goodbyes that shouldn’t have been said at all as he sat beside you on the couch and held you close.

He had told you to leave, he had been foolish enough to think that you’d still be there when he got back, that you’d continue to put up with him. This was all his fault… He had blindly chosen fame and the love and adoration of people around the world over you, the love of his life. Now he had nothing, he had truly lost everything in the blink of an eye, he hadn’t even told you that he loved you . He could only hope that you knew that he did, that somewhere, wherever you were, you knew that he loved you more than anything. You were the light of his life, the light at the end of the darkest of tunnels, and maybe one day, when the time comes, you’d be his light once more, guiding him back to you, and he’d be able to tell you that he loves you like he should have done today.

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animasola86 · 1 month

Text

News travels fast in Hogwarts

Notes: This is a sort of spin-off to my Sexy Times with Sharp series. It needed some drama, I suppose. (Also can be read individually!) This is the attempt of an interactive "adventure"! At the end of this post you'll have two options for how it may continue.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Angst/Drama // Words: 3.8k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: Sebastian finds out about your affair with a certain Potions Master.

WARNINGS: Angst! Drama, baby! Implied student/teacher relationship. Implied past relationship. ALL THE IMPLICATIONS! I just love implying things, okay? (MC might be losing it!)

News travels fast in Hogwarts

“So it's true?”

His voice caught you completely off guard, so much so that you shed your Disillusionment in shock. You had hoped to sneak out of the Faculty Tower unnoticed, and you would have, but then he had seen you.

“Sebastian? How did you –”

He scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he watched you with his head tilted to the side. “Please, I taught you that spell.”

You stared at him before your gaze wandered along the hallway. Students passed in and out, but luckily nobody looked at you and the Slytherin boy twice. “What are you even doing here?” you hissed as you looked back at him, clenching your fists.

“I wanted to see if the rumours were true...” he said quietly.

“Rumours? What rumours?” you asked with an agitated scowl.

“Come on, don't play coy, love, it's quite obvious now, isn't it?” His eyes scrutinized you. There was a spark in them, and you didn't know if it was mischief or disgust.

You steeled yourself, squaring your shoulders, and even though you still remained at least a head smaller than him, you stared up at him with the darkest gaze you could muster. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

His eyebrow twitched when he held your gaze. “Just tell me why,” he then said, lowering his voice when a chattering group of students came down the staircase from the Gryffindor Tower.

“Why what?” You remained adamant in not telling him anything. Because it was none of his business.

He sighed and licked his lips before his gaze wandered over your head, and a dark grimace swept over his freckled face. “Honestly, why him?” he muttered, and you followed his eyes in confusion, then felt a searing heat rushing through you when you saw the tall man limping away into the other direction, oblivious to you and Sebastian discussing his very existence in your life.

Your head snapped back, and you stared at the Slytherin boy's chest in front of you, trying to force the blush down. Suddenly he grabbed your chin and made you look up at him, and you blushed even more, despite your best efforts not to. His brown eyes stared into your soul, and you bit your lip so hard you almost tasted blood.

“Was I not enough?” he then whispered, his thumb teasingly pressing against your bottom lip.

You froze, holding your breath, before you finally mustered the will to slap his hand away and take a step back. “Apparently...” you hissed at him breathlessly.

He looked almost hurt, then pushed his hands into his pockets and sighed. “You're playing with fire, you know that, right?” he said, his voice low and menacing.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you threatening me?” you asked quietly.

A frown creased his forehead. “I would never,” he said, tilting his chin up to look down his nose at you. “I'm just saying you should be careful.”

“How is this not a threat?” you snarled, staring at him.

“You know I would never expose your secrets,” he replied gently, his features softening slightly. “I swore that to you, and I still mean it. But... I might not be the only one who noticed this.”

You swallowed hard, looking away for a moment, your cheeks burning. “Who's spreading these rumours then?” you whispered under your breath, but he still heard you.

“Oh, just some jealous girls,” he said. “Those who want to be in your place, but can't.”

You looked up at him, chewing on your lips. “How obvious is it?” you then asked, the anger in your face switching to genuine concern.

He gave you one of those smirks that used to drive you crazy. “Well, you do spend a lot of time in his classroom... after class...”

“Others do too!” you said defensively. “We're allowed to study there!”

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “In his office, too?”

Something hot crawled into your stomach, clawing at your insides. Trying to play it off, you scoffed and turned away, shaking your head. Before you could storm off, his hand was on your shoulder, pulling you back as if you were just a leaf in the wind. You stumbled, staring up at him as you struggled to find your bearings.

“People heard you,” he then whispered as he leaned closer, his hot breath ghosting your cheek.

Your eyes widened, and a sudden cold crashed through your nerves. “You're lying,” you mumbled as you stared up at him, almost pleadingly, hoping he'd be joking.

“How do you think those rumours started?” he said and leaned back, putting his hands on his hips.

“No,” you mouthed and averted your gaze again, your face burning in shame.

“You've always been so vocal,” he whispered, a dreamy sigh falling from his lips. “I wish I could hear that again some day...”

You clenched your hands into fists and stared at your shoes, shaking from head to toe, tears burning in your eyes. “Don't be obscene,” you muttered, your voice trembling as well.

“You know, there's a way to disperse these rumours...” His voice was smooth and low, and it caused you to shiver deeply. He even stepped a little closer, his warm body inches away from yours.

You didn't dare look at him, but again, he made that choice for you as he put a finger under your chin and moved it up until your teary eyes met his. There was no malice or mischief in his gaze, just that familiar warmth you used to melt into. But those times were over, and you found solace in a different pair of eyes now.

He reached a hand up and cupped your face, his thumb wiping over your warm cheek, tracing the scar under your eye. A single tear slipped from your lashes, and he let it roll over his digit before he pressed the pad of his thumb along its trail. “Why did you ever leave me?” he then whispered, mesmerized by your glistening eyes for a moment, ignoring his previous train of thought.

You swallowed hard, blinking another tear away. “You... you left me,” you breathed hoarsely.

He cocked his head, pressing his lips into a thin line before he licked them. “I was in a bad place...”

Staring at him, you felt a strange pull in your stomach. “I was always there for you...” you whispered, furrowing your brows. He continued to stroke your cheek. “But you pushed me away...” you added with your lips quivering.

“And you let it happen,” he said, his tone becoming harder, colder.

“I tried, Sebastian,” you replied, inhaling sharply. “You made it really hard to stay with you... so, in the end, I was glad when you distanced yourself from me... when you let me go...”

“You were glad?” he hissed, his eyes dark when he stared at you. “So it's my fault you ended up with him?” he spat, his grip on your face tightening as he grabbed your hair.

You winced. “Don't do this...” you whispered, that lump in your throat growing.

“Do what? Fight for my girl?”

“I am not your girl,” you said through gritted teeth, slowly regaining your composure. Grabbing his wrist, you tried to pull his hand away, but his fingers remained tangled in your hair. “And don't think I'll come crawling back to you because you threaten to expose me!” you hissed under your breath, glaring up at him darkly. “I still hold all of your secrets, too, you know?”

He froze at your comment, his freckled face paling before his cheeks burned up, and he let go of your hair as if it had stung him. “You wouldn't dare,” he replied threateningly quietly, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “I just told you I wouldn't expose any of your dark and filthy secrets, and you remind me of... of...” His voice broke then, and he shook his head, taking deep breaths as he stepped away from you.

“I'm sorry,” you breathed. “I didn't mean to –” You sighed, shaking your head as well, angrily wiping at your face. “But you were playing dirty, cornering me like that? Judging me? What did you expect me to do? I'm no longer the silent follower, Sebastian, I won't just nod and play along and follow you to the end of the world...”

“Shame,” he muttered. “We had something, you know? Trust and understanding and...” He clenched his jaw so hard you were sure you heard the bones grind together. “Do you love him?” he then asked, staring at you with those damn puppy dog eyes.

You stared back, forcing the memories away that he had pulled into the forefront of your mind. “That is none of your business,” you said quietly, trying to sound neutral, but your voice was trembling badly.

He watched you, silently, his face set and grim.

Swallowing hard, you held his gaze, waiting for any other comment, before you took a deep breath and squared your shoulders. “I'm going to go now,” you stated then and turned around, feeling his stare burning into your back.

It took him five seconds and two long strides before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back so hard that you ended up pressed to his chest with his arms holding you tightly, leaving literally no room for debate.

You froze against him, painfully aware you were standing in the middle of the hallway with curious eyes staring at you as several students passed you by, whispering under their breaths.

You suddenly knew what he was doing. And you didn't know if you should be furious or grateful.

“Play along,” he breathed into your ear before he leaned back and cupped your cheeks with both hands, then slowly lowered his face towards yours and –

You were back in the Undercroft, the memory so strong you could smell the dust and mildew of the vast room. And you could feel Sebastian's lips on yours, warm, soft, wet, his tears mixing with yours, their salty taste only making you lean in closer as you kissed him desperately, never wanting to let go again, forcing him to stay by your side with your lips glued to his, your hands clawing at his robes, holding him together as he was falling apart.

He mirrored that same intensity now, years later, as he held you firmly in his grip, his lips searing hot against yours. And you couldn't do anything but let it happen. Your mind was racing, your heart aching, guilt creeping up your throat like bile, burning your insides. And yet you raised your hands and grabbed the back of his shirt, digging your fingers into the fabric, and held onto him as you eventually kissed him back.

When he leaned away a little to catch his breath, your tears were streaming down your flushed face. He wiped them away, gently holding you as he watched you closely. Your vision was blurry, and your mind switched between seeing Sebastian's face in front of you, and a weathered, grim, scarred one that made your knees shake and your stomach churn.

Your breath was as erratic as your heartbeat, your lips parted and trembling, your head spinning. The world around you was just a blur, all those whispers and stares melting away.

“Let me be your alibi,” you then heard him whisper as he leaned back in, his lips moving along your wet cheek to your ear and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire on your skin.

You took a shuddering breath, your head tilted to let him kiss your neck, nibble on it, suck on it, and you gasped when you felt his teeth sinking a little deeper into your skin. The sudden pain cleared your vision slightly, and you let go of him to press your hands against his chest. He looked at you, cheeks reddened, his dark eyes so intense you felt your legs trembling. “What are you doing?” you breathed, barely audible.

“Helping you disperse those rumours,” he whispered back, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

You furrowed your brows, a sudden burst of anger crashing through you. “By making me look like an even bigger whore?” you said harshly through your teeth.

He frowned, genuinely taken aback by your words. “What? No, I...”

“The girl who can't decide, hm?” you hissed, your tone mocking, mirroring the many comments you'd heard behind your back. “Always back and forth, always crawling back to you, or to any man who's available, really, right? That's what they think I am... and that's what I'll always be...”

His gaze darkened before he looked over your head and around the hallway. Then he grabbed your wrist once more and pulled you along until he shoved you behind the statue of the One-Eyed Witch, his hand firmly on your mouth as he pinned you to the wall. Your eyes widened as he caged you in.

“Don't talk like that,” he hissed, staring down at you darkly.

You grabbed his wrist, and he let you pull his hand down. “But it's the truth, isn't it?” you whispered, more than aggravated now. “We were a mess, Sebastian. On and off for years... And there was always talk. Hell, the moment I stepped foot into this school, there had been talk. They always talked about me behind my back, no matter the reason. And I never cared, do you understand? Not when they thought I'd bewitched you, because why else would someone like you fall for someone like me, hm? Or when they thought I'd exchanged you for Ominis – which I never had, by the way?”

He listened to you intently, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed. But he didn't interrupt you.

“Oh and when we finally broke up for real? Do you remember the rumours then, talking about, oh poor Sebastian, oh lucky Sebastian, he finally had enough of her. It was always in your favour, because I've always been the odd one out, the late bloomer, the special strange girl. I never wanted that, any of it, but I didn't have a choice. And I thought I could have an equal in you, someone who understood, because you were there from the very beginning. But you had your own baggage to carry – and I don't blame you for it, please know that! I never did, I wanted to help you carry it as much as I wanted you to help me navigate my own confusing life.”

You inhaled deeply and looked down, staring at his tie. He still only listened, his body unmoving as it pressed you to the wall, his hands loosely by his sides.

“But things don't always go the way you want them to go. And too much has happened... even though I thought we could be normal together.” You scoffed quietly. “Normal, whatever that is, right? I was never supposed to be normal, and so I embraced it, I let them talk. And it ate me up. We grew apart, and I let it happen because I couldn't fight anymore. It was too much, Sebastian...” Swallowing hard, you felt another tear roll down your cheek. “And... I suppose I was destined to create more rumours, eh? I didn't mean to, but somehow, I found him and he found me...”

A twitch went through his body then as he tensed up, his hands clenching into fists. You looked up cautiously, blinking your tears away. Your heart ached, and you raised a hand to clutch at the front of your shirt to calm it.

“He listened, he was there, he understood. It was easy to open up to him, he already knew half of my secrets, he'd watched me from the very beginning, too...” Your eyes wandered away, your mind showing you those dark eyes and the gentle half-smile that grazed a stoic face. “You know, maybe it was easy because he reminded me of you. He also has a lot of baggage, and maybe I am just drawn to those broken souls, who knows...”

You looked back into his brown eyes, noticing a slight change to his tense, angry expression, his face was solemn, but in a strangely warm way.

“I never meant to hurt you,” you continued quietly. “I didn't do this out of spite, okay? I needed time for myself, and he gave me the confidence to look ahead and not back. And I helped him too, we are helping each other. And I don't care about rumours, I honestly don't. Let them talk...”

“They could burst your perfect little bubble so easily, don't you see that?” he finally said, his voice low and grave, any trace of warmth gone again. “Seeing a teacher,” he whispered darkly, your heart jumping as he finally named it, “being... intimate with a teacher, sneaking into his quarters...” He shook his head, a gesture full of disappointment. “It could get you expelled, it could lose him his job, ruin both of your reputations, it could make you even unhappier than you were before.”

“I –”

“Don't say you don't care, you do! Of course you do, you would be a fool if you didn't!” he replied harshly under his breath, leaning his head closer to yours until his forehead was pressed against your own.

You stared at him, his hot breath brushing against your trembling lips. “So what? What do you expect me to do? Stop it all, come crawling back to you?” you said through your teeth.

“Why do you make that sound like it's the worst thing that could happen to you?” he whispered back, clenching his jaw.

The sudden darkness that surrounded him made you want to back away, turn your face away, bring any distance between him and you, but he only grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. You stared back, anger rising inside your throat. “Because that's what it would be,” you spat coldly.

He leaned his head back, but kept his hand on your chin, his eyes dark and dangerous. “You don't mean that...”

Narrowing your eyes, you gritted your teeth, your entire body tensing up against his. “Let me go, Sebastian,” you then whispered in defeat, putting all the meaning into your words.

He looked at you, long and hard, then finally took a tiny step back, lowering his hand. But he still kept you pinned between his body and the wall. “Never again,” he breathed darkly.

“Don't you want me to be happy?” you said quietly, a small sob emerging from your throat.

“I want you to be happy in my arms,” he said, “not his.”

You took a shuddering breath, goosebumps rippling over your skin. His intensity had always been your downfall. Slowly, you raised a hand and placed it on his chest, feeling his heartbeat thundering against your palm. “I won't leave him, he doesn't deserve that,” you whispered while your eyes wandered over his freckled face. “He needs me as much as I need him...”

“I need you, too,” he mouthed barely audible, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

You felt your eyes watering, the sadness in his dark gaze almost tearing you apart from the inside. “I... I chose him,” you whispered with your voice shaking badly.

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

He looked down then and closed his eyes, taking another step back from you. Your hand fell to your side, the distance between you and him growing again. You remained leaning against the wall, watching him with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

He turned around, and you saw him peering past the bump of the statue. “If...” he started, looking back at you over his shoulder, “if you ever change your mind...” he whispered, letting his words hang in the air for a moment.

“I know where to find you,” you finished the thought and nodded.

His eyes roamed your face, full of sorrow and longing, and you had to clench your hands into fists and press your back into the wall to not jump him right there and then. The pull he still had on you was frightening. Eventually he looked away and stepped out of the niche and onto the hallway, and you saw him taking the stairs down to the dungeons, leaving your line of sight.

It took you a very long time to compose yourself again. When you finally emerged from behind the One-Eyed Witch, your legs were trembling, and you stood in the hallway for a moment, watching the flow of students move up and down the Grand Staircase, the thrum of chatter and stone grinding against stone lulling your racing thoughts.

Eventually you made your way to the Great Hall, and while you walked, you couldn't help but hear those whispers again. You had tried for months, for years, to ignore them, but now they seemed even louder. The stares seemed darker, more hostile, some even more condescending. You felt your heart sink, but kept going until you reached the large oak doors.

You had lost your appetite the moment you had pushed them open, and you felt your entire stomach drop when you were suddenly staring up into two very dark eyes in a weathered face full of scars and wrinkles – and disappointment. Your lips moved, forming a silent “No...” as a group of laughing students passed you, giving you knowing looks full of malice.

News travels fast in Hogwarts.

It was only a few seconds before you were left standing again, his tall body limping past you, his face tense, his jaw clenched. You felt like crying, like bursting at the seams, so on edge you were shaking like a leaf. Once you could move again, you whirled around, watched him leave – and then you witnessed him stopping once more, this time staring at a tall brown-haired boy whose freckled face paled.

Suddenly both of them were looking at you, their gazes like ice shards piercing your very soul. Whispers grew louder around you, comments like daggers aimed at your heart. You heard your own breaths echoing in your ears, loud, panicked, horrified. Something squeezed your throat, your vision blurred...

...and you woke up with a silent gasp, a jerk rushing through your limbs, pushing you back against a warm body. Strong arms held you tightly, and you inhaled deeply, your heart thundering inside your chest.

Just a dream, you thought, but you were soon torn between feeling relieved and absolutely disturbed at how real it had all felt. A very strange dream. Slowly you turned your head towards the person lying behind you. It had been just a dream, right?

End notes: Ohh, evil author, IT WAS JUST A DREAM!!! Or was it? And who's lying behind her, hm? Well, that is totally up to you! I just wanted to write some angst, sorry.

You can now decide how this story will continue! In whose arms will she wake up? What will happen?

→ Option 1: You wake up in the arms of Aesop Sharp → Option 2: You wake up in the arms of Sebastian Sallow

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow angst #angst #drama #reader insert #fem reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy oneshot

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3d-wifey · 2 months

Text

NSFT Alphabet: Star (poly!lost boys + Michael) Edition

A/N: I needed to add my girl Star to the equation. It's been a WIP for ages, but I decided to finish it to give my brain a little break from writing Chapter 14 of the Finnick story---which should be the next thing I post. This is to be read in conjecture with the nsfw alphabet: poly!lost boys edition since it's all the same universe.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Out of all of your partners, you and Star are certainly the closest. Emotionally, at least. When it's just the two of you, it always ends in caressing skin, giggling, and whispering declarations of love to each other. All in all, it's very soft. You're very soft on each other. If you're with the other boys, she'd love for you to lay on her while the two of you watch them goof around.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Her favorite body part of hers is her legs. She loves how it feels when you rub your hands up and down them. She especially loves wrapping them around your waist. She loves all of you, especially your hips. She's insatiable, standing behind you with her hands gripping your sides, always touching. She can't get enough of you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

She loves it when you cum on her strap. That way she can fuck into your mouth while she makes you clean it off. She loves coming on your face the most. The pure joy in your eyes when she puts her full weight on your face is almost as gratifying as the orgasm.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This is a shared one between you and her. The boys will usually send you out together to lure them a meal or two in. I mean, the combined beauty and seductive power between you two is enough to make a nun break her vows.

And whenever that happens, Star has the nifty idea to play up the flirting, so to speak. You could very well get the job done with fleeting touches and coy smiles, instead, Star hangs off of the arm of one guy and you play with the hair of another. Of course, in full view of the boys. The entire point is to make them jealous. And when David, because obviously, confronts you both about it with snippy little comments like "Have fun, girls?" or "You two were playing longer than expected." You just shrug with innocent smiles and hold hands. After all, they're the ones that told you to seduce the prey. They can't get too upset at their own idea, especially when it works so well (they can and they do).

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Star was turned in the 70s, the era of free love, so she's had her fair share of partners. That being said, she has more experience with girls than she does with boys. So you're in good hands.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Need I say more? I will say more. She loves being on top of you as you grind your wet cunts together. What's not to love? From up there, she can dictate the pace and just how hard she wants to go. Watching you writher and whine under her, the sounds of your begging, and just how wet you both are. It makes her feel desperate to reach her high until she grinds faster and faster against you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

She might grace you with one of her angelic laughs every now and then. But honestly, it's almost always a very giggly affair. You're a couple of giggly girls in love.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Picture this: you're at Woodstock, you're on crazy hard drugs, the guy on stage is on crazy hard drugs, the people you're having an orgy with are on crazy hard drugs. It's a time of peace and nature and free love, man. You don't need any of that consumer shit the Man says you do, like razors or scissors or basic hygiene. That kind of mindset has sorta stuck with Star even after she turned. But she does trim it before it can get too wild. So, think more of a shrub than a bush.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Now, you're speaking her language. The only person who can rival her in this department is Dwayne, but why would you pit two queens against each other? Between the two of them, you're gonna be showered in so many romantic gestures you'll get a rash in the shape of a heart.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

No need ;)

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Enthusiastic consent: There’s something about the desperation of your begging, it’s a heady feeling knowing just how much you want her.

Mommy Kink: You may have awakened Michael's, but he awakened hers. Now, it's almost guaranteed that whenever you and Star have sex with the boys, they're getting dominated. You're a tag team, a dynamic dom duo. Everybody say “thank you” to Michael. You give up the reins to her whenever it's just you two. Good choice.

Overestimation: To others, of course. Even if you think you can't cum anymore, she surprises you by coaxing another and another and—you get it. Doesn't stop until you and your pussy are crying (Paul loves to be a witness to this). The guys aren't exempt from it. When the dynamic dom duo is loose, the boys get to find out if that accelerated healing is fast enough to stop them from shooting blanks.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

In her room, one of the surviving rooms of the sunken hotel the boys eventually cleared out for her and moved her bed into.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Pain, but not her own. Odd, for how compassionate she is. She’s not getting horned up over Michael stubbing his toe or grievous harm done to her partners. There’s more nuance than that. Like, the first time you let her give you a piercing, she got alarmingly wet. That kind of pain. Regardless, you wanting her gets her going. Especially if you’re begging her even if you don’t have to considering she gives into you the easiest.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No anal, that hole is off-limits. It's never interested her before, and it sure as shit doesn't now. Sorry, Marko. No period sex, for obvious reasons. If she thought resisting blood was hard before, boy was she in for a surprise. Your period is almost harder on her than it is on you! But she endures it because she loves her baby :(

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers to give you head even though she enjoys your mouth very much, hence why your period is a tricky time of the month for her—for the tribe as a whole, honestly. The boys are especially greedy around that time, they make you feel like a damn capri-sun but at least they take care of your cramps. While the boys are enjoying breakfast in bed, Star and Michael learn the true meaning of restraint.

Prefers to get head from the boys though. Queen shit.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on many factors and what position. She's strapping you down from the back? Fast and deep strokes. Missionary? She's going slow and deep, making sure you feel every inch despite your begging for her to go faster. Tribbing? Fast and rough, she's usually just as desperate as you to cum. The pace with the boys depends on who she's with and if it's more than one person.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies for y'all involve either fingering or oral. The boys might like the thrill of doing it in public, but she prefers the cave where she can lay you out the way she likes. But, she will be taken by the urge to make you cum, and if it just so happens to be in public? Welp. Que her fingers honing in on your G-spot in a truly diabolical fashion. It feels like she knows the intricacies of your vagina better than you do. (Off-topic side note: it's a toss-up between her and Dwayne for who makes you squirt for the first time.)

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Like I said for the boys. Safe, sane, consensual—but, unlike them, she actually cares about the sane and safe part too. It's hard to consider much of anything a risk that isn't garlic, holy water, stakes, and the sun. If it's something all parties involved are okay with, then Star is too. (Still no anal).

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Supernatural stamina, even as a half-vampire. Goes for a loooooong time, especially with that overestimation kink. If it's just the two of you, you won't even remember how many rounds there's been. Truly insatiable, you'll need someone to tap in (likely Michael).

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Strap-on, obviously. You actually go pick it out with her since, you know, you're the one she's using it on. Michael tags along. She mainly tops whenever y’all break the strap out. Even if you're wearing it, she's riding you.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

She loves to tease. She’s not teasing you, you're her baby, and she can't deny you anything. Now, the boys are a different story. She much prefers to tease them with you.

Something she likes to do with you when they’ve pissed her off, or pissed you off, or just because she wants to is to start making out and feeling each other up in the cave while the boys are distracted with wrestling or smoking or doing something other than doting on their pretty girlfriends.

But the gag is, the boys aren't allowed to join in. It’s always so fun getting them desperate and seeing their reactions. You two usually make a bet about who’ll cave and approach the two of you first. They typically send in Michael or Dwayne since Michael typically isn’t the one pissing you off and Dwayne is, well…he’s Dwayne.

It’s even more fun to do it on the boardwalk because their pride won’t let them grovel like they need to in order for you and Star to let them in on the fun. So they’re forced to watch and not touch.

And if anyone is dumb enough to say anything in front of your five very protective/quick-to-anger boyfriends when they’re already frustrated, well, free meal, am I right?

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ah, so pretty. Surprisingly raspy. Low tones and sweet moans. She really makes you feel her voice.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

This goes for the whole tribe actually, but she can smell when you’re ovulating. Yeah, and it affects her viciously. Especially when it falls a week after your period. She’s a weak woman, she’s already had to abstain from you for, like, a week. She needs her fix. Truly, as soon as you step foot into that cave when you’re ovulating, you’re getting accosted by seven ANIMALS (>)0o0)>

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A perky B cup with brown nipples that get hard even when it's not cold. A proud member of the FPS, Fat Pussy Society

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Very high, and she is a fiend. But she’s also a lady, so she wears her horniess better than the guys.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Like I said in the aftercare, you’re very soft together and then you pass out together. It’ll really happen between one blink and the next. Suddenly you’re kissing each other, and then, bam! You’re drooling and snoring together. The boys find it adorable, sans Michael who’s passed out with y'all. Makes their undead hearts skip a beat.

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lxm-memories · 2 years

Note

Do you take anonymous request?

If so, could you write about Luxiem’s reaction to the pocky game? Like how they are feeling during the game.

I’m pretty new to Tumblr, but I have seen anonymous people use an emoji to tell the difference. Could I be 🌧 anon? Sorry for asking too much question.

pocky game w/ luxiem

✧ luxiem x gn!reader [separately]

✧ content: headcanons, pocky game, kisses & teasing, suggestive at times? a coy plot to get kisses easily in guise of a challenge.

✧ rule of thumb: please read my works as fiction related to the streamers, they are in no way real or connected to what the actual streamer is as a person - i write for the personas of luxiem, not for the person behind them.

✧ a/n: by this point you're probably already aware that you are the 🌧 anon! usually these sort of emojis is for reocurring anons in who often comes into the askbox to chat with the writer a lot so it helps distinguish you from all the other people who go on anon! and thank you so much for requesting !! this took a while, but that's because i wanted to make it as good as possible, and even after all the time i still feel like i could've done better, but i still hope you like it!

✧ Only blinks widely at you when you first bring up the challenge one afternoon. He's not opposed per say, he's just confused. "Where did this come from?" he asks with a chuckle, taking the box from you as you sit on his desk directly in front of him. "Oh? A cherry flavor?"

✧ "It's also heart shaped, isn't that kind of cute?" you tell, watching as Shu cracks open the lid and opens the package, but before he can grab a stick and taste it you've already snagged the package of biscuits away from his hands, the sorcerer letting out a sound of surprise at your abrupt movement.

✧ "If you want a taste of this cherry flavor, you'll have to do the challenge with me," you gleefully announce, leaning away from the sorcerer and crossing your legs with a grin. Shu's cheeks flushing slightly at your bold request, a nervous smile crosses his lips with his eyes locked onto your teasing ones, his pupils following the pink package you're swinging back and forth.

✧ With no other option, Shu merely leans back on his chair, propping an elbow up on the armrest and resting his cheek against surface of his hand, eyeing you closely. "If you wanted a kiss you could've just asked you know?" he mutters, not resisting when you pull his chair closer to his desk where you're sitting - the sorcerer now looking up at you.

✧ You merely giggle, twirling a strand of his hair as you pick up the biscuit and place it into your mouth with the other. Shu can still see your grin when you lean in for him to take grab the other end of the biscuit with his own mouth. "You're not even going to let me have the end with the coating."

✧ He doesn't know why this is making him nervous. He's used to having you close to him, even closer in general. So why is it now that there's a cookie between the two of you, and you're gazing at him with a teasing grin that he's feeling all funny?

✧ He's noticing that you barely bit further into the cookie, only having taken one big bite before letting Shu do all the work. He can feel his cheeks getting warmer, and he stops a tiny bit when he can feel your breath against his own.

✧ Placing a hand against your waist, he leans in to slowly connect your lips, shyly sneaking his tongue in to grab the last bit before leaning back, cheeks flushed and swallowing the snack before muttering a low: "... I win."

✧ You laugh lowly, leaning in to press your forehead against his own with a sly smile. "So?" you start, "How was the flavor?" Shu only gazes up at you, stares at you for a couple of seconds before letting out a snort, his hand wraps around your neck. "I don't remember, might need to taste it again," he mutters, leaning in to once again capture your lips with his own.

✧ His eyes practically sparkle the moment he spots the snack amongst the other things you have bought, excitedly picking it up before turning to you with a smile. "Let's play the pocky game!" he suggests, you only cocking your head to the side with a confused smile, "The what now?"

✧ His eyes seem to sparkle even more upon discovering that you don't know what the game is about, excitedly sitting you down on the couch and sitting directly in front of you - groceries long forgotten for this game.

✧ After hearing the rules, your only lean your face to the sofa back, quirking an eyebrow up in amusement. "Ikey, if you wanted me to kiss you, you could've just asked." you tease, the novelist flushing slightly while vehemently denying your teasing remarks. "No! it's just a fun game to play!"

✧ "A game that would most of the time end up with the two participants kissing," you add, ignoring his pouting while you open up the bag, pulling out the pink coated biscuit. "Strawberry too, your favorite." you quip, before placing the snack in front of Ike, "There, open wide, Ikey." The novelist grumbles a tiny bit, but he eagerly awaits for your mouth to wrap around the other end. You do notice the intense stare Ike has on your mouth the moment your lips wrap around the pocky.

✧ Ike doesn't even give you a second to make yourself comfortable before he's already biting away at the pocky, only stopping a bite away from your mouth and staying put. If any of you would want to "win" this game it would end up with either party kissing the other one.

✧ But the fact that Ike doesn't attempt to move further puzzles you, does he think you'll eventually get uneasy by the close proximity without him doing anything? At that you let out a little giggle, the action causing your body to tremble a bit from trying to keep your mouth on the snack, but your behaviour making Ike tilt his head to the side in confusion.

✧ So the only one who had the kissing in mind was me, huh? You wonder, letting your fingers run lightly up Ike's pants, your lover jolting upon feeling your fingers on his body, but the novelist only gets a second to register your fingers before your hand settles on his waist and you lean in to press your lips onto his.

✧ There's a strangled squeak from Ike, which quickly gets muffled when your tongue tangles with his own - pocky in his mouth long forgotten, but the flavor making the kiss a lot more enjoyable than normal. That and maybe the fact that Ike is still very much surprised by the kiss, making him all the more pliable in your hold, you wrapping your other unoccupied hand around the back of his head to pull him closer to you, effectively making the novelist sit on your lap.

✧ "You were supposed to get nervous and move away!" Ike gasps out the moment he pulls away, lips swollen and cheeks flushed in embarassment, or anger? You don't know, but you only cheekily grin at him, "Ikey, you forget that I will gladly kiss you in any occasion if the opportunity is presented to me, challenge or not." Ike only huffs at you, before burying his face into your neck. "I'm never playing a chellenge like this with you again."

✧ Didn't know the game existed before you told him about it, but is still down to try it out with you. "You are so going to lose," he says with a grin, before pulling your chin down to place the snack into your mouth himself.

✧ You see, playing this game with Luca was the first mistake you could do, lover or not. Playing any game with Luca in general is an idea you should think over, lest you want to get pranked. But alas, you only had one thing and one thing in mind. To kiss him.

✧ But did your beloved boyfriend know that? No. He fully believes that this is just one of your other silly games that the two of you usually do when you're alone - and as such he's going to be same menace he is when he on collabs.

✧ The first sign that you should've noticed that indiciated that Luca was going to play dirty was right at the start - because you see, he wasn't moving. He acted like he was moving, but his lips didn't move further up the cookie and closer to your own mouth.

✧ Second sign was that wandering hand on your thigh. Fingertips gliding across the exposed parts of your skin, making you shiver. Briefly dipping underneath your shirt to make you jolt, but your lips were still firmly wrapped around the pocky - much to Luca's dismay.

✧ If you had only kept your eyes open after those brief touches, you could've seen Luca's mischevious grin and pulled back in time or bitten your way to his lips to make him understand what the main motive of this game was - but alas, you never opened your eyes, something Luca appreciated very much.

✧ And it's not long before your feel his fingers slip underneath your shirt to tickle against your side, the sudden sensations making your jump away from the snack and let out a squeak at his fingers against your skin. "L-Luca, what the- stop-" you wheeze, only realizing the abscense of the cookie in your mouth right after.

✧ Looking up to glare at Luca, you notice that your beloved mafia boss, who is very much still straddling you swallow down the last bit of pocky with a triumphant grin. "I win," he declares, the declaration only making you groan. "Of course you would think I meant to play literally," you murmur, Luca cocking his head to the side in confusion, smile still present. "What did you have in mind?"

✧ "This." you murmur, before placing your hand behind Luca's neck and yanking his face down to yours, pressing your lips against his. The sudden movements making your teeth clash together which causes Luca to groan a tiny bit, but he quickly settles down to recopirate your kiss.

✧ "... You know if you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked," he says with a laugh once he pulls back, causing you to roll your eyes. "Let me be romantic and cliché for once without you utterly destroying it, please."

✧ Oh he's seen this game in every shoujou anime he has watched. And the moment he sees you pick up the box, observe it before placing it onto the cart? Oh he's waiting for the moment you ask him to do the challenge with you.

✧ Hours go by, and Mysta's focus snaps towards you when you get up to grab something to eat, coming back with the chocolate flavored box of pocky - and once again he's getting all giddy, eagerly waiting for you to ask him.

✧ But you don't. You merely open the bag and eat the cookies while continuing to watch the episode of whatever tv-series you're currently into. Completely ignoring Mysta's intense stare - is what Mysta believes. But when you glance over at him, you see the imaginary fox ears perk up, and you blink before you look down at the box in your hands.

✧ Did you finally get his message, did you finally understand what he wanted to do? "... Mysta, do you perhaps..." your words drift off, and Mysta nods furiously to answer the question you have yet to even answer. "... Want to eat some pocky?" you ask with a confused smile.

✧ No. No you didn't get his message. And poor you can only continue smiling in confusion as you see Mysta's face twist a little in disappointment before he grabs the box from your outstretched hand and takes out one stick, pointing it towards you with a pout. "Have you heard about the pocky game?"

✧ The question makes you blink a couple of more times as the wheels in your brain starts to turn - and it doesn't take long before you remember the game and burst out in laughter, causing Mysta to flush slightly. "That's what you wanted this whole time? Why didn't you just ask, babe?"

✧ Mysta seems to flush even further at your comment, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction, words slurring into each other at how embarassed he is. "Y-Ya kno- knew this entire time! And you didn't-" his words jumble with each other, but you're too busy laughing. getting up from your seat to close in on him. "Well, babe. Not everyone has the idea of doing a game whenever they buy snacks, you know? How could I have possibly known you wanted to kiss me with the help of a cookie?"

✧ Taking out a singular pocky, you use your thumb and pointer finger to cup his cheeks before placing the cookie in his gaping mouth. "But what am I? But a loving partner, hmm?" you mumble, biting at the other end, Mysta still stunned at how quickly you changed. But he's quickly snapped out from his imagination when he sees your face in front of his own.

✧ Before he can connect your lips, you've already bitten off the last cookie, leaning back while swallowing the crumbs inside your mouth. "There, does that mean you won?" you ask, a teasing grin on your face. "Oh, you son of a-" he grumbles, but is once again silenced when you lean in to peck his lips. "And there's your kiss, you can't possibly complain more than this, can you?" you whisper into his mouth. Mysta only glancing to the side as an answer. "... More wouldn't hurt."

✧ Very amused when you first bring up the rules of the game. He's heard of it, and finds it pretty cute - compared to the more riskier drinking games where the end goal was similar to the pocky challenge. Minus the actual drinking.

✧ He will of course indulge you, he's weak to your requests after all. But what is Vox, but a bit of a tease? His teasing and mischevious acts may not be as bad as Luca's, but it's enough to make you a bit frustrated with his actions.

✧ "Oh dear, if you want to play this game, we'll have to be as close as possible, won't we?" is what he says, so he's the one leaning in closer to you, the pocky the only object that is distancing the demon from you.

✧ He has a hand woven around your thigh, his other hand cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking the surface of it while his eyes half lidded. With how he's acting, you would assume Vox isn't at all affected by the sudden intimiacy.

✧ But alas, if you were to pay real close to the demon, you would notice how his shoulders are a bit more stiff than usual, his breath is a bit quicker than normal and his cheeks are just the slightest of pink. Even though he acts unaffected, the demon can't help but feel nervous around you even when the two of you have been together for a long time.

✧ It's only when he notices how close, yet far the two of you are that Vox realizes the tantalizing allure of this game. So close to kissing someone you have probably admired for so long, but struck by nerves to be the one to initiate the kiss.

✧ That's not a problem for Vox though. Thinking that, the demon bites off his part of the cookie which confuses you since there was still quite a lot of the cookie to bite into. Vox merely chuckles, grasping the stick and pulling it away from your mouth.

✧ "What a dangerous game," he mutters, "Here you are, so close to my lips and yet a mere cookie is the one thing preventing me from kissing you silly," throwing the cookie aside, the hand on your thigh moves towards the back of your neck.

✧ "I'm far too impatient to wait for you to be brave to kiss me, dear. Let alone play a game that intensifies that impatience," is all he says before pressing his lips against yours, the hand on your cheek placing itself on your waist to pull you closer and deepen the kiss.

#luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #mysta rias #mysta rias x reader #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #god this took so long #AND IM STILL NOT SATISFIED #BUT OH WELL

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