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xetlynn · 2 days ago

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alt au claggor x reader childhood friends to lovers maybe mylo convinces claggor to confess maybe spicy??? thank you ❤️❤️

>:3 made this feeling sick as heck but so proud of it🙏

Arcane Imagines- Claggor

Confessions Lead To…

⚠️WARNING🔞: SMUT [arcane] [main page] prompt: in which Mylo actually has good advice for Claggor, leading him to a wonderful night. (I made it modern college au, just little mentions of modern day things) containing: fem!receiving oral, missionary, riding, anvil position, unprotected sex, creampie, slight cockwarming.

“Just do it, she obviously has a thing for you too!” Mylo tells his brother, hanging from the top of his loft bed. Claggor was pacing back and forth. “I can’t! I don’t want to ruin our friendship. What if I make it weird?” He esperates, rubbing his hands through his hair dramatically.

“Dude, would [Name] do that? Honestly, answer me that.” The shorter one of the two asks with an annoyed expression laid on his face. “I mean, no but it could feel awkward between us and then I’ll look stupid.” Claggor frowns deeply.

He’s had a crush on you for months now, it’s only getting substantial. “Claggor, I can’t tell you what to do. But I am telling you if you don’t do it you’ll be a pussy.” Mylo points a finger down at the larger man who gives him a deadpanned look. “You were the same if not worse when it came to Gert!”

“Hey, at least I’m with her now. I shot my shot.” He defends himself, crossing his arms and looking up at the ceiling. Claggor sighs, knowing that his annoying brother is actually right.

“Ugh, I swear if I’m doing the wrong thing no one will see me for a while.” His shoulders drop in defeat, leaving his brother’s room to get ready to confess his long-time feelings. Mylo wasn’t paying attention, raising a brow when he noticed that Claggor left… ten minutes later.

•••

You hummed in your kitchen, finishing up some chores you wrote down to do for the day. You had the house to yourself since your roommate decided to go on a trip with her girlfriend.

You get a ring from your phone in your back pocket, wiping your sweat and you pull it out. Answering it without checking and putting it up to your ear. “Hello?” “Oh, hey [Name]! That was a quick answer.” Claggor chuckled on the other line. A smile erupts on your face.

“Hii, Claggs.” You threw your rag on the counter, leaning next to it. “Can I come over? For a little bit. If not, I understand.” He seemed extremely timid which caused you to tense up. “Um, of course! I’m just doing those chores I told you about but I could use a little break.” You happily say despite the horrible gut feeling you got.

“Awesome, see you in 5.” He hangs up the phone before you even get the chance to respond. You stare at the phone for a few moments, placing it beside the rag. You go to the bathroom to clean up a little bit, interrupted by the sound of your doorbell.

Claggor’s apartment was two floors down from yours so you’re not surprised he got here as quickly as he did. You go to the door, swinging it open. You move out of the way allowing him to enter. “Something wrong?” You scrunch your nose. “No, not at all. Why?” He asks with sweat forming on his forehead. “You seem a little off is all.” You shrug your shoulders. He heads to your bedroom, you behind him.

“What’s going on? You’re worrying me a little bit.” You mustered a meekly smile. “I’m sorry.” He sighs, drooping down on your bed. He comes over often so this is normal for the both of you. He was too embarrassed of Mylo so he deemed your place to be better to hang out if you guys weren’t going out.

“Is there something I should be worried about?” You hold yourself now. “I don’t know. I’m just going to come out and say it so prepare yourself I guess?” He avoids eye contact, his eyes wandering everywhere except at you. “I think I like you. Well I know I do. A lot. I have for a few months now. I didn’t know how to stop them and when I tried it made it worse.” He explains leaving you in shock, this being the last thing you were expecting from Claggor.

“I feel like a child, giddy whenever the smallest thing happens between us. It’s truly pathetic.” He laughs at himself, your lips twitching upwards. “It’s not pathetic.” You tell him.

“I’m the same way when I like someone.” You sit next to him on the bed, grabbing his hand. “When I like you I should say.” You watch his face blush a bright pink. “You feel the same?”

“Yeah, I have for a little bit now.” You nod your head, keeping his hand folded with your own. “That’s crazy to me. How could someone like you give me such the honor of liking me.” He whispers it was mainly to himself but you heard. You rolled your eyes playfully, grabbing his face with your other hand. “You’re so dumb. You’re perfect for me.” You coo, slowly leaning forward. His eyes widen but he follows your lead.

Your lips locking, the warm, soft feeling on one another. You deepen it by getting on your knees and unlocking only a few times to go back for more.

Swapping saliva as your tongues tease each other. His hands travel to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Your plush thighs on either side, straddling him. “Hmph.” He breathes roughly after you nibble at his bottom lip. You go to apologize but he does it back. Making it fair.

You grin into the make-out, grabbing onto him as you attempt to pull him even closer to your body.

Your hips subconsciously roll back and forth across his crotch. His lap tenses at the motion but he doesn’t stop you. His arm is latched around your waist as the other is keeping himself along with you propped up.

The further into the make out the more blood progresses to his boner. It’s now prominent enough for you to feel against your area.

Arousing you both to a degree you’ve never felt before. The wetness of your juices soaking through your clothes. He swore he could feel your cunt spasm on him. He loved it.

He wanted to feel more. With the arm that was around your waist he pushed you down gently enough you couldn’t even tell what he was doing. You moaned in his mouth at the pressure.

Your head was beginning to feel dizzy at the lack of oxygen you were taking in from being too excited to breathe. You had to pull away from him to catch your breath. His chuckles at the sight of your flushed out face, lips plumped out even more, your hair slightly a mess. You were beautiful.

“I need more.” You huffed out, lifting your hips up only to plop back down upon him. He gasps from the movement. “Yeah?” He asks with hooded eyelids, giving your body a once over as he leans back. “Mhm.” You nod your head and then all of a sudden your back was against the bed as Claggor was in between your legs. You squealed out, laughing.

“I don’t have condoms on me.” He suddenly remembers, he goes to get up but you grab the hem of his shirt to stop him. “I’m on birth control.” You say, legs wrapping around his thighs since his waist wasn’t close to you anymore. He smiles eagerly, passionately kissing you.

“Such a pretty girl.” He mutters in your mouth, pulling back. He takes his shirt off and you admire his body as he does so. He had muscle that showed but also such a soft adorned tone. You were obsessed.

And if you weren’t wet before, you definitely were now. You followed suit though, throwing your shirt and bra over your head, throwing it to the ground.

His eyes glued to your chest, a little too long in your opinion as you grew self-conscious. Covering yourself without realizing it. He takes your wrists, pulling them to your sides. “You’re too beautiful to be doing that.” He shakes his head. His hand touches your face, digits trailing down from your jaw to your neck… Lower now as he dances around your nipples before lightly pinching them. You whimper at the feeling causing him to smirk. “They’re sensitive?” He tilts his head and you quietly nod your head.

He chuckles, now doing the same with the other one just to hear the little noises that exit your mouth.

He innately rubs his crotch against yours, pushing up against you. You rut your hips up to meet him, wanting more.

“Please, I want to feel you.” Your hands go to his shoulders, lightly prodding him away. “Alright, I guess I had my fun.” He sighs jokingly, he moves back a bit, repositioning lower on the bed. Once he gets comfortable laying on his stomach, face to face with your clothed pussy his fingers find the top of your shorts. He toys with you, heavily breathing at your core. You wanted to squish your legs together so he’d stop but you resisted. Finally after what felt like minutes to you he tugs your shorts and panties off of you.

“I made you this drenched?” He satirizes, you frown, looking away from him. He snickers at your shy response. His pointer and middle finger pull your lips apart to get an even better view. It caught you off guard from the sudden coldness at your pussy. You gulped down your own saliva that built in your mouth.

Claggor glances up at you as his own mouth watered. Impatient to taste you. His best friend that he had just confessed to. His best friend that likes him in return. He was so worried that you wouldn’t like him and now here you are letting him eat you out.

His tongue lays down flat in between your nub and entrance. His top lip above your clit. You felt his teeth rub against you and you wince in pleasure. And as his muzzle moves, so do you. You felt your body squirm as his movements were intense but so so so satisfactory.

He somehow was paying attention to your clit and your achy hole at the same time. And to be honest he didn’t have a technique he just wanted to taste all your juices.

His tongue slid into your hole for its last time before attaching your nub once again, this time it was for longer. His tongue swiped left and right to up and down. Writing his name at one point and then yours. He felt your thighs closing against his head and your body tensing up.

“H-hah- holy shit, Clag… I’m gonna-” You breathed rapidly, grabbing hold of his short hair and practically yanking at it. He groans in slight pain but keeps his focus on you, only going faster. Your torso trembling upwards. “I’m- I’m cumminngh-guhhh!” You wail, accidentally pushing your hand down on his head, keeping him in place against your pussy.

He doesn’t mind, he feels you twitch on his mouth. All your delicious sap flowing onto his tongue. Your hips rolling throughout your high.

And as it was over all you could do was lay there, letting him go. It was one of your most intense orgasms you’ve had in a while. “Thank you.” He whispers as he gets up to kiss you. “I should be thanking you.” You pant out, his small hands wandering around his torso.

“Mm agree to disagree.” He shrugs, pecking you once more. As his torso goes up your hands slide down back to the bed. He plays with his belt buckle, undoing it. Claggor gets off the bed, letting his pants fall. You eye his boxers that clung to his skin. The noticeable bulge that stuck out. You were ready yet again.

Your own fingers go to your clit, it was now delicate to the touch but you still rubbed it slowly. When he sees you touching yourself he feels his cock jump in its barriers. “Restless so soon?” He beams.

“I need you inside me.” You mewl, spreading your legs even further than before. And just at your movements his boxers were being kicked off his feet. You giggle as he climbs back on the bed. Your eyes stuck on his large member though.

You figured he would be blessed but… blessed was definitely an understatement. You now worried if it would even fit inside you.

“Gosh, you’re too gorgeous for your own good.” He clamps his hand on your jaw, squishing your cheeks making your lips puckered out before he kisses you. As he leaned over his dick laid on your tummy.

“You ready for me?” He quizzes your jaw still captured in his hold. “Yesh, scared ‘s too big thoughh.” You muttered through your squeezed cheeks. He snorts, not expecting that answer. “I promise it will fit. I’ll go slow.” He kisses you again before letting you go.

Your eyes observe as he pumps his dick with his hand with his own spit. His mushroom tip slipping through your folds, hitting your clit a few times. “Are you sure you want this?” He looks you in your eyes. You smile at his question for consent, double checking even though you’ve already came once and pleaded for his cock. “I want this more than anything.” Your hand wraps around his wrist, helping him proceed into you.

He hisses at the feeling of your gummy walls just being around his tip that leaked precum. Your chest heaved up and down with anticipation. “Keep going.” You encouraged with a nod of your head. He listens to your words, inching more and more inside.

As he bottomed out you clamped around him, flinching at the string that you felt at first. Your face contorting slightly. “Are you okay?” His hand caresses your cheek. “Yes, one second though.” You stuck your pointer finger up, you swore you felt every crevice of his cock. He was huge.

“Okay, okay…” You shiver out. “Start moving.”

His hips move away before clicking right back. Your mouth opens at the feeling. Now keeping a steady pace. He grips at your waist, hearing your moans make him want to cum at the spot. Only being in your pussy for two minutes.

“H-harder.” You claw him, trying to keep him as close as possible. Seeing this along with hearing your words his hands lift up your thighs around his shoulders and he presses down closer to you. Now in an anvil position. “Ohmygod!” You shriek, feeling him deeper than he was before. He fucks into you at a harder, faster pace.

Your mouth letting babbles come out, words mashed together and not making any sort of sense. Claggor grunts in your ear each time his skin slaps against yours. Your toes curling above his head.

“Fu-uck meee~” You cry, throwing your head back against the bed. The exhilaration, the adrenaline, the sex of it all filling Claggor’s mind to keep going. Hear your voice lighting a fire in his brain. No other thoughts.

“Gonna cum soon, princess.” His thrusts grow sloppier. “Wa-wait! St… stop!” You cry out, his pelvis immediately hitting a halt against you at your singular word. “What? What happened? You okay? Did I hurt you?” He asks, forgetting what he had just said.

You pause for a moment, taking a quick breather. “I um…” You puff, “want to ride you.” You tell him, propping yourself up on your elbows. He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding at your words. “Oh okay.” He grasps at his heart, calming down. “What?” You furrow your brows confused.

“I mean, I’d love for you too but you scared me.” He slowly slides out of you, your pussy now clenching around nothing.

“The way you said stop… I don’t know. I blanked.” He rubs the back of his sweaty neck. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t exactly get my words out.” You nervously laughed, reminding him of what he was just doing to you. His cheeks blush brighter, not because of embarrassment but because it made him a little proud of himself for pleasuring you so well. That’s all that mattered to him.

You got up to your knees and you led him to sit down by the headboard. His back against the thousands of pillows you have on your bed. “Comfy?” You ask him with a closed eyed smile. He snickers, tugging at your waist to pull you closer to himself. “C’mere.” Was all he said.

You climb back onto his lap. His torso was leaned back so you had a good advantage when riding him. Your feet planted on either side of his hips. Your hands held onto his shoulders as you now stood over his dick. Your lick your lips, practically drooling at the sight. “Help me?” You glance up through your lashes. He smiles, using his left hand to keep his member up for you.

You lower yourself down on him, excited to be filled back up. As your ass fully goes against his thighs you go back up then right back down all in slow movements. He watches as your pussy sucks him in each time again and again.

Then you get bored of yourself, going faster, bouncing on him. Your tits are right in his vision. His hand grabs at both of them as his other is laid on his own stomach, keeping it to himself.

“Too good, ‘s good.” You moan out, gripping his shoulders with each bounce.

The stinging in your thighs were slightly bothering you but you had to keep going. One of your hands that held his shoulders went down to your clit. You rubbed it intensely. “Fuck!” You whisper out, he can tell you’re getting tired fast. He holds onto your hips, helping you go up and down.

Still admiring the way you focus on getting to your release. And all he wants to do is help you get there. “Get on your knees.” He taps against your hips with his pointer finger. “Hu-huh?” You look at him confused. “Just do it.”

You let your feet slide backwards so you were now back on your knees. “There you go, more comfortable?” He asks sincerely. You only nod your head, not rolling your hips on him. He lifts his hips up and slides his body down so it would be more comfortable for him.

You fuck yourself on him. “Ooh, I’m close.” Your voice rings out, Claggor hums in response, feeling his own orgasm coming. “Me too, where do you want me?” He asks, just so he knows before he cums. “Inside, don’t worry.” You pant.

“A-ah, cumming!’ Your nails accidentally dig into his biceps as you feel your release. The pain only brings him over the edge, his jaw slacking as his seed spurts inside you.

You feel the warmness spread within you. Feeling his cock soften inside. You kiss at his chest before laying down on him. Keeping him in place with his dick still stuck within those fluttered walls.

“Fucking hell, Claggor.” You spit out, his arms wrap around you. “You were amazing.” He mumbles. “No, you were.” You lift your head up at him. “That was insane!” You exclaim, accidentally jolting your hips causing him to hiss at the sensitive feeling. “Sorry.” You chuckle.

“It’s okay.” He waves it off. He goes to help you get up but you stop him. “I want to stay like this for a little bit.” You tell him with a heated face. He raises a brow.

“I was hoping for round 2… But I want to feel you grow inside me.” You quietly admit to him. Now it was his turn for his face to heat up.

Flushing as he now replays everything the two of you just did. And you get exactly what you wanted.

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yamumsyadadd · 1 day ago

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the forgotten girl (3)

posted this originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)

“Alexia, can you come to my office please?” Jona asked. Usually he never asks, opting to talk in the open, and considering it’s the end of the day this is serious.

“What’s up?”

“As you’re aware, Amelia Higgins is in Barcelona. I have spoken to both her and her manager, she has expressed interest in joining. She will not be joining in an official capacity until the transfer window, however she will be doing individual training here. Irene is aware, but since you’re also captain, I am asking you to please help her. I know you used to be friends, but please don’t let the others know.”

“Oh. Yeah sure. When will she be here?”

“Tomorrow.”

As the morning rolled around, Alexia made her usual stop at the bench. Expect this time you weren’t surfing. Instead you were sitting on the sand with two coffees.

“Care to join this time?”

Silence encapsulated us. It wasn’t uncomfortable silence, just silence.

“I see you run every morning.”

“I see you surf every morning.”

“Helps gets my mind off things. I feel free out there, like nothing bad can happen.”

“Jona spoke to me last night. You’re coming back?”

“Not sure yet. I haven’t touched a ball or a football pitch in 3 years. Just want to see if I can do it. Keira told me I owed it to myself to try again.”

“She yelled at the girls in the locker room last week. They were talking about you and she yelled. It scared them.”

“Keira yelling isn’t good. She’s worried.”

“She’s not the only one Mil.”

“I better go. Keep an eye on her for me, yeah?”

As I walked back to my very white and plain apartment, my mind couldn’t help but wonder to the what ifs. Not the “what if she didn’t die” but the “what if I never stopped playing”. Keira was right, I had to try again.

Determined, I walked into the Barca training grounds. Officially I wasn’t a player, so I was just dressed in my black Nike workout clothes. Jona greeted me at the entrance and gave me the tour before the team arrived. Keira would be having lunch with me today, in an empty conference room away from the team.

The first fitness test wasn’t particularly hard, luckily I’d been running and keeping up my overall fitness, after lunch would be the real test. I got a little lost finding the conference room and accidentally ran smack bang into Claudia Pina. She had a very guilty look on her face.

“Oh my! I’m so sorry. I’m looking for Keira and conference room 6? I’m really lost.”

“No please it’s my fault! I can help you. What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t play anymore?”

“Just here to have lunch with Keira. That’s all. Thanks so much for your help Claudia. Have a good day!”

“What was that?” An amused Keira said.

“I was lost and I literally ran into her. She helped me find you. Nothing more.”

“She’s cute no?”

“Keira.” She took the hint with warning tone. Dropping it there. The final hurdle of the day: actually walking on the pitch. Most of the girls had already left, only a few stayed. I could see Alexia, Claudia, Keira and Lucy sitting at the far end of the pitch. All I had to do was walk. A motion that I do everyday without any problem. Yet, right now, I was stuck.

“She’s scared. We should go over there.”

“No Kei. We need to wait. She needs to do this herself.” Alexia agreed with Lucy. She admired Keira for wanting to help her friend, but this isn’t something they could help with. At least they thought that until Claudia had ran over without them noticing.

“Hey! We can just kick the ball here. One step at a time, right?”

“On the concert? You’ll ruin your boots Claudia. It’s fine, I can try again tomorrow.” Without a second thought, Claudia stripped her boots, tossing them to the side.

“No boots, no problem.”

She proceeded to kick the ball to me. Easily, I returned it. Second nature. We kept doing simple passes on the concrete for the next 15 minutes until the physios ended it there.

“One step at a time remember.” I high fived the smiling girl. Soon enough, the other 3 joined. Looking proud as punch. It was an overwhelming feeling, having so many people in my corner, being proud over something I’ve done a million times.

As the days turned into weeks, my confidence grew. Finally being able to step foot on the grass and confidently kick a ball. My friendship with Olga also grew. It was nice to have someone who pretended not to know what I’ve gone through, and to have someone outside of football.

Claudia became a very good friend to me. Often staying behind or coming in early so she could train with me. We’d get coffee on the days off and I was slowly teaching her how to surf. She refused to get into the water during the winter so it was practicing as much as possible on the sand.

“I know you want to know. It’s okay to ask questions.”

“Keira and Alexia told me not too.”

“Do you always listen to everything they tell you to do?”

“Not usually. But alexia is scary and Keira, man she’s even scarier. She yelled at us when we were talking about you after we saw you at Manuela’s.”

“Keira is scary because she doesn’t get mad often. But you know what, I won’t tell them if you don’t. So go ahead and ask.”

“Why’d you quit?” She said it so quickly, afraid I’d change my mind.

I ponded the answer for a moment, “i define my life in three stages, there was before Emily, during Emily and after. Before and during, I loved football. Lived and breathed it. It gave me Keira and Leah, a way to escape the foster homes and create a new family. And of course it gave me Emily. After Emily, I was empty. I didn’t love football anymore. I didn’t love anything. I did what I know best and I ran. I left England, left the house we lived in, I just left. I realised that I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t win medals or awards without her.”

“And now? What’s changed?”

“Honestly, after running into you lot, I felt like I was missing something. I went to an open training that was held and I missed the way the ball felt at my feet, or the way it felt to run on grass in cleats. So I rang my manager and told her to ask them and here we are.”

“Are you scared? You were the best. Are you scared it won’t be like that again?”

“Scared shitless. I don’t want to be the best, I don’t want to accolades or the awards, I just want to play like I used to.”

“Like before Emily.”

“Exactly”

“What about you and Ale? She looks at you with the softest eyes. I’ve only ever seen her look at Olga like that.”

“There wasn’t a me and Alexia. We were friends. Both going through the ranks at the same time, just for different countries. It was an unlikely friendship of sorts. She comes from a loving, soft family and I come from the system. Rough and ragged around the edges. After the funeral, I wiped myself from the face of the earth. Deleted all my social media, cancelled my phone number. Everything. I hurt a lot of people by doing that but I couldn’t stay.”

“I’m sure they understand. Keira and Lucy definitely do.”

No more questions were asked after that. Just a peaceful walk back to our cars either promises to see each other later. It was nice to talk to people. I’d gone 3 years without having a meaningful conversation with anyone and I didn’t realise how much I’d missed it.

#alexia x reader #fcb femení #mapi león #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community #ingrid engen #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #keira walsh x reader #keira walsh x lucy bronze #keira walsh #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze

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fridgemissionmaster · 2 days ago

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What They Do When They Miss You (Full Cast + OCs)

Lucifer

Like how you can't teach an old dog new tricks, he turns to old habits:

It’s rather easy to not think of you, after all his brothers and Diavolo make sure he’s always kept busy… for the most part.

But then the night rolls-in.

The quiet always unnerved him, that’s why he usually had a record playing. You never knew this though. After you arrived and changed his world, his life, he didn’t want it. Your voice was far more soothing than any melody or hymn for an ancient, weary heart.

Not always, but on occasion you’d stay up and keep him company. He didn’t care if you talked or not, if you vented your frustrations about school, or if you sat beside him only your soft breaths being heard as you organized some papers in the endless stack between you two. If he had a record playing it’d simply be annoying noise. Yet now he finds sleep eludes him without it playing. You left a mark he can only try to patch.

And on exhaustive nights where even that doesn’t help, he pulls out the bottle, roughly ripping the quark out with a loud pop or even breaking the glass’ neck by mistake, the sharp sound making him flinch and the embarrassment that a human could have such control over him even without a command, making his cheeks flush without his lips touching the blue liquid yet.

At the dead of night, he sits in your room after spending an hour at the tomb or in Lilith’s room. He’d never admit to talking to thin air, about his grievances at the last student council meeting, or his breath shuttering at the thought he truly didn’t know what you were doing, if you were safe or not, if you were happy or not… surely you weren’t, otherwise this tightening of his throat would be a silly feeling, not if you weren’t feeling it too.

Mammon

His sticky fingers get the better of him:

Oh, look at that, the gem on that necklace is your favorite color. He needs it.

That shirt, isn’t it made of that material you found really comfy? He needs it.

The vase over there, it looks rather valuable, he could buy you the newest fragrance from Majolish, The Great Mammon just knows you’ll love it. He needs it.

Geez, you’re such a clutz leaving your room in such a state. Sure, it may look clean, but he knows his human, and the place is just a mess. You’d like it if he tides it up a bit for ya. Like he’d take that picture of you and him on the nightstand, can’t let his brothers accidentally break it, and the clothes from your closet, can’t let them get musty and eaten by moths as well as your sheets and quilts, AND, and there’s also the knick-knacks on your shelves they… get dusty, surely they wouldn’t under his care. He’ll also just be taking-

And then there he was, strung up to the ceiling, for no reason! Doesn’t anyone realize he’s your First Man for a reason!? He knows you better than anyone, and he knows he’s the only one who can properly take care of your stuff! He needs to keep them in his room so he can make sure nobody else messes with em’!

All your stuff, safe in his room. His room where he can look and sort through them all day, every item reminding him of something, anything.

Surely they wouldn’t notice one of your pens was missing, right!? Only he’d notice such a detail. And once you get back you won’t either! So it’s fine! A little something you used to pour emotion into writing or work. It’s always with him, to fiddle with when his mind wanders, the clicking sound soothing.

…

Nobody would notice if he took another, right? You’d want him to look after it, and maybe some other things while he’s in your room.

Leviathan

He hides in a world only made for you:

You’d like this anime, too bad you can’t watch it in the human world. Nothing to do for it but record it. There’s also this new game, too bad they announced it after you went back to the human world, but you don’t need to worry, he’s already preordered a copy for you. There’s also the tie-in book, three for you and three for him.

There’s a lot you’d like actually. It feels like whenever you’re busy THAT’S when all the stuff you’d want comes out. Why did you have the leave him.

W-with so much to do!

Now he has to make a list of all the games he’s preordered for you. There’s also the reviews of all the anime he watched you may wanna know about. Then he needs to-

Most of his time is spent behind his monitor, writing, and writing, and writing away. He used to text you these reviews, recommendations, ect. but then his brothers, especially Lucifer made such a stink about it, about he’s ‘spamming’ you, or it was an ‘unreasonable hour’ to be messaging you. So now he’ll just have to be taking up all your time on your return, their fault really.

If you’d listen to him at least. They can’t just steal you away the moment you get back, right?

…

He dose have your favorite game. And newer games, sometimes need updates! S-so, so while those are downloading maybe he could play that.

There’s another list for you, one he made of everything he likes about the game, from the graphics, the music, there are also some reminders of things he thinks even you wouldn’t know, things to show you when you get back.

Satan

Well, if one has a problem, it’s only natural to find a solution:

He’s tried mastering teleportation, still vexes him that the skill still eludes him. Mammon made travel between the realms near impossible via that paths without Diavolo, Barbatos, or Lucifer interfering.

There MUST be a way though, something he’s yet to find.

Then he could see you any time and life would be perfect.

So what to do, what to do.

Legends could be the key perhaps. He spent the first several months of your absence pouring over the tomes in his room, you never know, perhaps now that he was looking for a method to the human world specifically he’d notice something he missed before.

Unfortunately there wasn’t much.

No matter, there were still libraries to scour through.

And if that didn’t… well…

He’ll find something, he will. He may need to turn his thinking around, quit RAD to pour his all into this search. There IS something he just knows it. He just needs to hunt that method down and take it for his own.

He will see you, he will find you, you’ll both bathe under the sunlight on earth, watch as it raises and sets, no brothers to bother the pair of you. Perhaps even surprise you, show up with a thousand flowers right outside your door. Maybe sneak off for a midnight tryst when you can’t sleep.

Sure you could summon him, but how could he surprise you then, or find you when you’re busy, or see you when he wants and needs you? He’ll find a way, don’t you worry, just wait for him, please.

Asmodeus

Mirrors and screens can only do so much, but it’s better than nothing:

Even his sighs are beautiful, but what do they mean when you’re not here to tell him so, to sooth his worries and hold him close.

Thankfully he took all those pictures of you before you left.

He has one for every occasion, ones of you at RAD when classes are being too troublesome. Ones of your smiling face for… everything really, to lift his mood, to give him motivation to just a little better everyday, when he’s board, when he’s sleepy, when he found that cute new top he just knew you’d love and knew would compliment your complexion perfectly, but double checking your references never hurt anybody.

And who is he to keep all these for himself. Of course there were some he deemed for his eyes only, but he just feels so bad for all those poor demons out there who just have nothing.

His days are mostly spent scrolling through his many, Many, MANY albums of you, searching for just the perfect one to post to Devilgram that day. The world can’t be deprived of such beauty, you must understand.

Soon a trend starts, #(insert number) of days MC has been gone. Asmo always has a new post for the tags for every day, he has enough to last for a few centuries. It’s an okay amount but really you need to get back soon so he can take more.

And don’t you worry, there’s not only pictures of you. Of course, with the tag of how many days you’ve been gone he’s taken 1(0000000000000000000) of himself for each day of your departure, he knows you’ll have missed him, so don’t you worry cuttiepatootie, he’s got you covered.

And so here you’ve left him wanting, looking in the mirror waiting for you to just appear in the empty space he leaves beside himself while he get’s himself ready for the next photo.

Beelzebub

Just as with all of his other feelings, it eats him alive:

For Beelzebub even before food, his family is at the forefront of his mind, and that, includes you. Whether it be the nightmares that plage his sleep, or the joy at hearing his brothers just chatting in the next room over, or the thought of you that’s just as haunting as it is comforting.

When he goes shopping whoever is minding him don’t point out how he doesn’t need to get your favorite snacks. There’s too much free time so he filles it by tripling his workout routine, makes it harder for the mind to wander. He knows it isn’t the safest yet on those long jogs he turns up the volume on his D.D.D., getting lost in your favorite songs. Then, when his belly is good and empty, he can focus on that pain, that gnawing more bearable. He hates seeing your spot at the table empty though.

It's… not a powerful feeling, he can go about his day to day, but it’s-

No, YOU’RE always there.

And it’s nice, in it’s own way. His family is always a part of him.

So he buys your favorite foods when it’s his turn to do the grocery shopping so that should you suddenly drop-in again he can already make the best feast for you. With his workout routine being tougher he has all the more reason to ask for your help like being the extra weight on his back for pushups or having you keep count, and these are very serious jobs so his brothers aren’t allowed to interrupt, just you and him for a time. He could also carry you on his jogs and sing along to your tunes. Finally once the day is getting late and it’s time for dinner he can stuff himself beside you, you and his brothers merrily chatting away filling him more than anything else possibly could.

The sweetest of daydreams to think of while waiting for you.

Belphegor

Miss you, why, when he can see you anytime:

Day, night, sleeping, napping, whatever the case may be, if you’re resting, he’ll be there. Life is easier if you just put effort in the things that matter and don’t bother with anything else, and thankfully that’s never any less true here.

Your dreams are easy to find, practically second nature for the demon. For a being such as he, the ethereal world of mixing, melding thoughts and emotions are almost just as real as the waking world.

So it’s just up to you, sleep, lie down on the couch and meet up with him. Want to go for a stroll on the Milky Way, or perhaps dance on the wind, it’s up to you. Why don’t you just stay, it’s not like there’s anything better to do.

Sleeping’s better than going back to the waking world. It’s filled with nothing but pain and death. It’s cozy, and warm, and safe, and kind here. Why must stupid human bodies always wake up.

And so you leave him.

All alone.

…

You’re very cruel you know, making this place so lovely only to rip it away.

No more dreaming till you come back, there’s no point.

Please come back soon. Sure he’s waiting, always waiting for your return, but if you’re not going to be here by his side to make the waking world warm and kind or the dreaming world safe and cozy then what’s the point of either?

Diavolo

There won’t be a world where he’d ever have to know of such pain again:

Funnily enough, he’s doing better than ever. Sure, life is a lot more boring with your absence, but he

Has.

Goal.

It’s perfect, simple really. With the exchange program having been a success, you’ll have to come back for another, and another, there’s no one better than you to tell the progress of the Devildom in accommodating your people, and when the Devildom dose get to that place surely you wouldn’t mind being the official human representative full time. And with you being such a high standing official and honored guest/resident it’s only natural you’d just have to stay at the royal palace with him.

He just needs to make this world.

It will be a lot of work but it will be worth it. Sure his hands may get bruised, cut, bloodied, broken, dirty, or sore but then, once everything is said and done, surely life would be perfect.

Sometimes motivation does wane and as much as he cherishes your calls and texts, it’s still not the same as having you HERE, to feel the warmth of your hands in his. Sometimes when you’re on call he’ll slink away from this desk, sneak down the halls, and slip into that little room. He tenderly pulls out the albums so you don’t hear anything and ask what he’s doing, he adores your day to day, see how humans, you, go about your life. And as you talk he’ll open one of those many albums, each practically filled to bursting with photos of you and those brothers and the shenanigans you lot would drag him or he drag you into.

Had he ever told you, just how much you mean to him? Just how much you’ve changed his life? How you’ve brought much more joy than even the chaos of his home could?

… What better place to tell you such things than a world where you’d never have to leave again, where you could stay without worry, a world where humans and demons lived hand in hand, surely the rest of his people deserved the kind of joy you’ve brought to him.

Barbatos

Indulging in memories, that’s not a form of time travel, right?:

The day to day is always busy for a butler, but especially the one of the (temporary) Demon Lord. His thoughts are always filled with the most important things, you must understand.

He awakes bright and early before any other creature dare. Standing before the mirror, adjusting the buttons, smoothing out the outer coat, floofing the ruffles on his shoulder as you would in a playful mood, tapping the ends of his shoes to the floor testing if they’re snug enough, and giving his warm gloves one last taught pull before making his way to the Little Ds’ rooms to assign them their duties for the day.

He ties on the apron you bought him. He still doesn’t understand why ‘Kiss the cook’ is such a prolific phrase on the garment in the human world, but who is he to comment when you always take the fabric’s advice upon seeing him in it. It had been a few days so surely the Young Master would be craving some bloody lignin berries with his pancakes. Perhaps some Griffin eggs on the side? Diavolo does have more paperwork than usual so the extra treat would give him the boost he needs to not run off as soon.

The garden also must be tended to for the day. There are the blazing spuds you planted. Still not ready yet it seems. Good, it’d be a shame if you weren’t here when they were at their peak. The Hanging Shivering Fuchsias you watered the last day you were here looked especially lovely in the morning dew. Seemed the pickles could use some extra attention though.

There was the evening shopping too, Diavolo requires the freshest ingredients. You joined him for these shopping trips often. It was always a lovely chance to teach you of some of the local delicacies. He finds to odd now to not be looking to his side and asking your thoughts, if anything caught your eye, or if anything reminded you of home.

It’s natural to be lost in thought, there’s a lot too keep track of after all. However much there is though, every night he’s always left with the same one as he takes off those gloves placing them aside. How strange and charming it was that they always felt so warm after you held them for the first time. Something to look forward too for tomorrow as he planned out the day.

Luke

Well, being a Guardian Angel has it’s perks:

Angels are not to interfere in the lives of humans ever, with two exceptions. One! Father gives the order to do so on his behalf. Something like that hadn’t happened in a very long time though… Two! When acting as a Guardian Angel. Of course there were limitations for what he could do, but it was enough to keep you safe!

One can’t work directly, but there was plenty he could do for you! Like scooching your slippers a little closer to your bed so your feet don’t end up hitting the cold floor or when you’ve lost something if he finds it, he’ll move it to a slightly more obvious place you might have over looked.

It hurts worse sometimes being able to do these little things and not being able to do a thing when the bigger, badder stuff happens. His eyes get misty when you burn your hand on the stove, or get fired, or get into some accident or The EArtH SHAKES!? IS FATHER MAD AT YOU? ARE YOU OKAY!? Then it’s even worse when you act like nothing happened at all like with the SHAKING! You just go around putting away everything that got knocked over! Is he doing a bad job!? Are you just that used to danger that you don’t care!? How can you not care!? His heart practically breaks for you.

Maybe this started before, when you joined the exchange program. He knew he should have kept a closer eye on you! But don’t worry he’s here for you!

There might not be much he can do, and he can’t always be watching over you but he can help. Every bad thing will lead to something good, he’ll make sure of it. Like your burnt hand gets you to take that break you needed, or because you were fired you’ll get an even better job, or from the shaking and cleaning you finally can find that keepsake you thought you lost.

He’d never admit it to anyone, let alone himself but something deep in him does hope you return to the Devildom soon, then you can be together again, and he can protect you, for real.

Simeon

… Is it fanfic if you write about your friend?:

Simeone heard the term from Leviathan once. Fanfiction. He’s not quite sure he’d consider himself your fan perse, yet there he was, pages, upon pages, upon pages of writing about you, about what you and he could be doing together if not for this distance, about what you could be doing.

It felt… wrong? in a way, to do this. This wasn’t one of his characters that lived in his head, facts of things he knows you’re doing. He’s just… making stuff up with you in mind.

He writes of you laying in a field, some place as close to the Celestial Realm as the Human World could get to, you at peace, and happy, watching as clouds roll by.

There’s another of you and he sitting on the beach watching the sun set. He doesn’t actually know what a sunset looks like, but there’s something so enchanting about it, something so human, so imperfect about the idea, something so… something he could only hope to see with you.

He wrote about what he’d say to you, his longing, his fears, his silly ideas, confess his selfishness of wanting to keep you all to himself just for a short while and of you returning those feelings in kind.

It almost feels bad, like he’s dictating your actions, it’s not the same as when you worked together on those plays together, and yet despite this odd growing pit in his stomach, he can’t stop. This being something that calls to him when thoughts turn back to you and they’re too much to bare without doing something.

And so when he has the time, he can’t keep himself busy, or when he tries thinking of Henry and you begin to take his place instead, it’d only be natural to write of you instead, right?

Solomon

Laugh:

Things are so much simpler when you’re in the human world where you belong. No demons, angels, or other such creatures to fight for your attention! It’s amazing!

But fate can be cruel and he finds always, ALWAYS at least one of you is in the Devildom.

Loneliness and Solomon were no strangers, the man knew that feeling all too well in fact, however, you made it hurt worse. He was used to it, the rejection, the being kept at arms distance and him doing the same to others, the fear and disgust in their eyes, yet you didn’t. You approached him, drawing him closer and closer, how could you expect to give a thirsty man water in the desert and not have him on your heels desperate for more.

Yet there are those brothers, and royalty, and angels, and even death fighting for you embrace.

It feels the worst when you’re in the same room and no matter what they consuming you whole.

You’re a human in a new and unfamiliar world, so he’ll look after you.

He can’t help but smile seeing anyone less by your side. At him successfully distracting Lucifer with the question of a pact. He loves it when that one innocuous comment from him sends the rest into a fight giving him the chance whisk you away and laugh at their foolishness. He chuckles when he doesn’t need to do a thing at all and their own follies get the better of them and they don’t even realize what they’re missing out on.

If they knew he was mad or upset they’d feed on it, it’d make them just a bit too comfortable, but an unflappable smile, that can be just as unnerving as a wicked scowl. Then when at last it’s just you and him, and he’s home at last, no longer alone, just you get to see his real smile, one of relief.

Thirteen

It’s easier to hope to not see you too soon:

That thought makes things easier, considering who she is, and what her job is. It wouldn’t be the worst thing for you to go, you could always be by her side then, but it wouldn’t be the same as you are now, alive. It’s much more fun and interesting!

And as boring as waiting can be, she much rather wait for your return to the Devildom than you meeting her scythe for the second time. She would go and visit you, but she only really can when working and it might not be the best idea to have you follow her around and others start spreading rumors of you being cursed or something. Then again… well if she were to invite you along it’d be entirely up to you if you went or not. Maybe that is something to consider for a later date.

There’s only so long one can chase around Solomon though, or go shopping, or try meeting new people, or… there’s a lot the reaper has tried in her long, long, long ‘life’ but the time with you is always the most thrilling. Perhaps not the best life for a human but you at least seem to enjoy yourself despite your… she could never land on if you either had incredibly good or bad luck but, it certainly was something to behold.

It’s easy to pass by the days tinkering, and toying, and fiddling away till her cave was filled with new traps for your perusal, but on occasion she’ll pause. Sometimes it’s to wonder what you’d think. Sometimes it’s how you’d react when she unleashes it upon your reunion. Sometimes it’s just how you’d want to paint it. Inevitability the squeaking of metal or the snapping of wood, or stupid Solomon’s voice brings her back and you’re left to rest for a time. Thoughts of you came back though, they always do. That’s at least one thing she’s certain of, aside from your long life and bright flame. She can wait, there’s plenty of time yet still to burn.

Raphael

Pain is a trial, something to be embraced:

Father is cruel as he is kind, strict and wrathful yet understanding and loving.

This… shallow hollowness, he finds the feeling hard to describe, must be something similar to Father. It took root when his siblings first fell and it never truly went away. Sure there were more important things to think on, to work on, to refine, to improve, it was something he tolerated or tried ignoring. There wasn’t much he could do about the feeling anyway so why bother?

It was different after you though. For his siblings, yes they did wrong, but perhaps, one day Father would see their actions weren’t malicious, they just loved so much and didn’t know how to express it when they were scared for one another. You however… There was no real reason why you couldn’t be together now, to share hellos and see you laters. He could text you maybe, but it wouldn’t alleviate this feeling, just make it worse the longer your time apart is.

He finds it inspiring sometimes. Sitting on a couch unable to decide what to sew or embroider next. The decision is always easy now, what would you like?

During training he’s able to put in this energy he never knew he had that just sat dormant within. His swings are faster, more power can be utilized.

You grow in strength everyday, you could easily surpass Solomon at this rate, something that should terrify him, yet he wants to stand toe to toe with you. How things were going, you’d probably save his life. That wouldn’t do, you have enough people relying on you, if someone was going to be saving the other let him save you for a change. You deserve the break.

So he’ll keep this feeling close and this new part of himself, it hasn’t been causing any trouble so far, so he didn’t see much reason to do anything about it.

Mephistopheles

How dare you, he must curse you in kind, it’s too precious of a gift:

You are no human! You are a curse, a plague! You’ve went and made yourself impossible to ever forget. Do you even realize what that means? Do you truly understand just what you’ve given him? Your short life, and you’ve chosen to give part of that to him so freely! And now he’s saddled with the responsibility of keeping that part of you alive within himself because who knows when you’ll just keel over from how fragile you are!

And now you just expect to keep him waiting. He just has to sit here in anticipation for your return so he can give you the same gift! How rude!

Never again will you be able to doze off without wishing he was beside you. He will make sure your drifting thoughts are of him, and him alone.

He’s planning every moment of your return. Demons live much longer than humans so for him to give you the equivalent of what you’ve gifted him, you won’t be having any free time for a very long time. For you, for him it’s practically nothing, but be sure it will be the most amazing moments for your entire existence! Just recompence in his opinion.

Don’t plan anything, he has date plans for you for a few months. He would have the next few years planned out by the time you see one another again, but it can’t be anything less than perfect. There’s also always something new add. His finger is on the pulse of the Devildom, from the new hole in the wall eatery few have tried but raved about, or the Three Legged Crow’s plans on investing in at home entertainment, there’s always something new to add and see if they fit into his plans.

Why did you do this, take the little free time he had and twist his arm into dedicating them to you. He could be relaxing, but no, the rarer times he’s not busy he finds your life in his mind. Surely a curse most fowl that he will give you one of his own.

Aurum

Writing so you don’t miss a moment:

The evenings in the bar are long, but the days even longer. They lay on the sofa half asleep, one thought on their mind. The nights felt shorter when you visited. He also missed the anticipation he held in his chest, locking up the front doors only for you to pop up and walk him back home. He always told you he didn’t like seeing you out so late, yet you’d just say the same back. At least they had work and you… you were just damn too sweet.

He wondered, but couldn’t just ask if you felt the same, it’d turn awkward if you didn’t and well… His feelings probably hurt you enough already.

But, by chance, if you did, surely you’d like to hear from him?

Mammon raised a brow and questioned how Aurum hadn’t gottn your number yet and practically threw his phone into the man’s face to copy your contact info upon seeing the letter and hearing Aurum’s request for him to play mail boy! The demon still immediately pocketed the letter but, this was ridiculous. Even more so when Aurum refused to copy your info!

Was he perhaps a bit too presumptuous about your relationship? Texting would be a lot more casual than a hand written letter, but they knew how creepy it could feel when someone got your contact info without you being the one to give it out. Thankfully he didn’t have to ruminate on it for long, Mammon calling, saying you had a letter for him!

The patrons thankfully always provided with good stories for the man to share, and you always wrote of whatever misadventures and the brothers got up to. Sometimes Mammon would look over their shoulder, interject about the goings on, usually about you ‘exaggerating’ things he did. He also liked not telling stories, just news, or this off looking tomato he found at the market, and you’d tell him of the day to day in the Devildom, about the ingredients you thought he’d want to try experimenting with or how the library got an updated fae law book you could borrow for him if he wanted.

It was nice summoning Mammon every few days for his visit and trading your letter for theirs. It hurt, but you seemed to get that and would talk more about yourself for a time or just about Mammon. He admitted once, it felt kinda like giving each other a piece of home, these letters, and that he hoped you felt the same.

Matoi

You’re always together, there’s no need for that:

They told you before, didn’t they? The world of yokai and the world of humans are one in the same, intrinsically connected, one effects the other just as much as the past effects the future and the future effects the past. Humans and the Lantern People sewed one another, raised one another, and return to the earth hand in hand. The land may be vast, but the land is still earth, you are both earth, thus you are always connected.

But it’s okay if this hasn’t sunk into your soul and bones yet. You know, even if you don’t realize.

Knowledge doesn’t always sway the heart though.

They whittle. Not the tool carving for the village, or toys for the kids.

They hop through the forests till something catches their fancy. Could be a log, perhaps a branch but it has to be something that screams ‘you’. It’s rarer for them to have a plan for what the item will be. They chip away till the wood begins to take shape and they see what it wishes to be. They sing, ancient songs long forgotten but still they are songs of love, a song for you, one you’d never get to hear. Unless you asked but they wouldn’t on their own, their body always heats up from the embarrassment of being so focused on by one person, let alone you.

These projects, if they hadn’t made Mephistopheles’ cane, they would say each and every one was their magnum opus. Each had thoughts of you poured into them. A paperweight, a figure, some pencils, a chair, the amount of these carved gifts Matoi has given you practically every time you meet, you could not keep track of. They’ve made you furniture as if knowing the House of Lamentation needed a new one, not that was too hard of a guess with how destructive the brothers are. They’ve made you a ring that perfectly fit your ring finger. They made so many things, the only thing you could be certain was that they must spend most of their free time making these for you.

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leeknot · 1 day ago

Text

His Possession

Pirate!Jungwon × Mermaid!Reader

MINORS DNI

Jungwon had been watching you for weeks, lurking in the shadows of your lagoon. He’d heard the tales of a mermaid who lured sailors to their doom, but when he first saw you, it wasn’t your song that enchanted him—it was the way your beauty defied every legend.

You should have been more careful, but his cunning was unmatched. When you rose to the surface to investigate his ship, he’d sprung his trap, his net laced with magic to bind you. Now, you sit trapped in his quarters, glaring at the infuriatingly smug pirate captain.

He lounges in his chair, one boot propped on the desk, his sharp eyes raking over you with a mix of fascination and triumph. “You’re even more beautiful up close.” he drawls, his voice a low purr that sends a shiver down your spine. “A treasure worth more than any gold I’ve ever stolen.”

You hiss, slamming your tail against the glass. “Let me go, pirate, or you’ll regret it.”

Jungwon chuckles, unbothered by your threats. He stands, approaching the tank with that lazy confidence that makes your blood boil. “Oh, I don’t think so.” he says, leaning in close. His breath fogs the glass as he smirks. “You’re mine now, little siren.”

You press your palms against the barrier, meeting his gaze with defiance. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“Don’t I?” he murmurs, his voice softening. His fingers trail along the glass, tracing the line of your jaw. “You’re dangerous, aren’t you? But so am I. And I always get what I want.”

Despite yourself, his boldness sends heat coursing through you. There’s something maddeningly magnetic about him—the way his eyes glint with challenge, the way his voice drips with teasing promises.

When he turns away, you think he’s finished, but he pauses at the door. “Get comfortable.” he says over his shoulder, his smirk widening. “You’ll be here a while. Unless, of course, you decide to behave.”

He leaves the room, locking the door behind him. You glare at the empty space he occupied, seething with anger and trapped energy. Hours pass, and you find yourself pacing restlessly in the tank, your tail slapping against the glass in frustration.

As the ship sways gently with the waves, you notice the moonlight casting ethereal shadows across your naked form. The chill of the sea breeze occasionally hits your sensitive skin through the tiny gaps in the enclosure.

The ship's crew passes by your tank occasionally, whispering and pointing, their eyes wide with wonder and fear. You hear them murmuring about their lucky captain, who's brought back the most beautiful mermaid they've ever seen... alive.

The ship comes to a halt around midnight. Footsteps approach your chamber - heavy, measured, familiar. Jungwon stands outside your tank, bare chest visible through his open shirt. He carries a tray with food and water. His eyes trail down your body before meeting your gaze.

"Thought you might be hungry." he says, setting the tray on a small table beside the tank. His voice is low, raspy from sleep or something else.

He picks up a small, ornate key and unlocks the tank door. The mechanism clicks open, and he pushes the door gently until it swings wide. Jungwon steps inside, closing the door behind him. He locks it again, this time with a different key.

"You need to eat." he says, picking up a small bowl filled with exotic fruits and some kind of shellfish. He kneels down in front of the tank, his bare chest level with your eyes. "And I need to make sure you stay healthy. For... science."

He places the bowl inside the tank, pushing it towards you. His presence fills the small space, the salty tang of the sea mixing with his clean, soapy scent. He watches you intently, his expression thoughtful. "You're not going to try to escape, are you?"

His hand brushes against yours as you reach for the fruit, sending an unmistakable spark between you both. His breath catches slightly, and you can see the pulse in his neck quicken. "Beautiful creatures like you should be careful." he whispers.

"You never know who might try to capture you again." His gaze lingers on the curve of your hip, the swell of your breast. "Or what they might do to you once they have you." He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You should eat. And then..."

A small, wicked smile curls his lips as he leans in closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "And then..." he traces a finger along your jawline, "we might find something... more interesting to do." His other hand splashes into the water, gently stroking your tail fin.

"Something that might make this time in captivity... less painful." His eyes darken with desire, and he moves even closer, his breath hot against your ear. The water around you seems to warm with his presence. "Something that might make you forget you're even trying to escape."

Jungwon's fingers tighten around your tail fin, holding you in place as he leans in closer. His lips brush against your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Something that might make you wish you never left the tank in the first place." He pauses, his heart pounding against his chest.

"I could feed you, take care of you, keep you safe..." he murmurs, his hand slowly stroking your cheek. "And in return, you could be my little mermaid, always happy, always smiling, always..."

"...ready whenever I want you," he whispers, his voice laden with desire, his thumb brushing across your lower lip. "Think about it, beautiful... staying locked up, but living in pure pleasure." His other hand continues its rhythmic motion on your tail, causing ripples in the water.

His breath hitches as you catch his finger between your teeth, teasing but not biting down. His pupils dilate, and he moves closer, one hand supporting himself against the tank wall while the other remains on your tail. "Little minx..." he growls softly.

He leans in closer, his face hovering just inches from yours. "You have no idea what you're playing with," he murmurs, his voice a low, husky tone. His thumb presses against your tongue, encouraging you to open your mouth wider.

"If you were human, I'd swear you were flirting with me." He chuckles darkly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His thumb slides into your mouth, checking your teeth. "Open wider." he commands softly.

As you comply, he lets out a low moan. "Such a good girl," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. His thumb strokes along your tongue as he continues to hold your tail fin possessively. "Just imagine... no more swimming free, but no more worries about predators either."

His free hand moves to caress your cheek, pulling you closer. "Just endless days spent in each other's company. I'd pamper you, protect you..." His thumb continues its rhythmic movement in your mouth, "And in return..." he murmurs against your lips.

"...you'd let me worship every inch of this beautiful body." His other hand slides down your tail, tracing its sensitive underside. "All that silky skin, those perfect curves..." His voice catches in his throat. "Wouldn't that be better than struggling alone in the ocean?"

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, only to replace it with his lips. He kisses you deeply, his hand on your tail guiding it to wrap around his waist. "Say yes." he whispers against your lips.

"Say you'll stay with me, be mine." His hand on your tail tightens, pulling you flush against him. "Say the word, and I'll make you the happiest little mermaid in the world." His eyes search yours, eager and hopeful. "Please..."

You feel his desperate plea as he kisses you again, deeper this time, his tail coiling around yours possessively. "Answer," he begs, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "Will you be mine?" He swishes his tail impatiently, waiting for your response.

"I-I..." You stutter, your heart racing at the intensity of his gaze. His tail wraps around yours so tightly, it's hard to breathe. "Y-yes." you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

His face lights up with a triumphant smile, his tail uncoiling slightly to allow you to breathe easier. "You're sure?" He asks, his voice laced with uncertainty, as if he can't believe you'd actually agree to be his. "You'll really be mine?"

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. You look into his eyes, seeing the desperate longing there, and something inside you melts. "I promise," you say, your voice stronger this time. "I'll only ever be yours."

"I belong to you." you whisper, your voice filled with a mix of submission and desire as you rest your head against his chest. Your tail shivers slightly from the intensity of his possessiveness. "Only you..." you add softly, nuzzling closer.

Jungwon's hands roam your body, his fingers trailing over your scales and fins with wonder. He pulls you even closer, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss as his other arm wraps around your waist. You can feel his heart racing against your chest, his excitement palpable.

He breaks the kiss briefly, his eyes gleaming with desire. "You're so... different," he murmurs, exploring your wet hair, your glistening skin. His fingers trace the delicate webbed edges of your fins. "And yet... here we are,"

Without warning, he lifts you easily, carrying you towards the shoreline where the water meets the sand. "I want to explore every inch of you." he growls, setting you down gently on a patch of smooth sand near the water's edge.

He sits down himself, his knees in the shallow water. He reaches out, gently stroking your tail fin. "Can you... can you change shape?" He asks, his brow furrowing slightly.

You nod, a soft smile on your lips as you concentrate. Your tail begins to transform, the sleek scales fading into smooth human skin. Your fins morph into arms and legs, your gills disappearing as you take a deep breath of air.

Jungwon's eyes widen in amazement as he watches the transformation. "That's... incredible." he breathes, reaching out to touch your now-human legs. His hand runs up your thigh, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"You're even more beautiful as a human." he whispers, leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. His hands continue to explore your body, now fully capable of touching every curve and line. "But I must confess," he says with a husky chuckle.

"Right now, I need you." he says more urgently, guiding you onto his lap so you're straddling him. His hands move to support your waist as he kisses your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Have you ever..." he asks softly, checking your innocence.

His fingers trace your spine tenderly "Tell me... has anyone else touched you like this?" His breath is warm against your ear "Has anyone else made you feel like this?" His kisses along your neck become more insistent "Never." you breathe out, pressing yourself closer.

He inhales your scent, his hands tightening around your waist possessively. "Good," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "I want to be your first... in every way." He growls softly, his hands sliding down to your thighs, spreading them wider to sit on his lap.

"Look at me," He demands softly, his hands tilting your face towards him. His gaze is intense, filled with affection and desire. "I want to see your face when we do this for the first time." He explains, his thumbs stroking your cheeks tenderly.

You look into his eyes, seeing the raw emotion and desire. Your heart flutters with nervousness and excitement. He leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss as his hands guide you to lower yourself onto him.

You feel the head of his thick, human cock pressing against your tight, virgin entrance. You bite your lip, unsure if you can take him. But he's so gentle, so patient, holding you close as he waits for you to be ready. "You're so small and tight."

"Shh," He whispers, hushing your nervous expression. "And you're a virgin," He states, his hands gently parting your thighs wider. He uses his thumbs to wipe away a tear from your cheek. "We'll go slow, okay?"

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as he slowly pushes forward, breaching your entrance with the tip of his cock. You gasp against his mouth, feeling a sharp pain as he stretches you open. He freezes, letting you adjust to the new feeling.

"Look at me." He rasps, his voice low and gentle. You open your eyes, locking onto his gaze as he slowly pushes forward, stretching you open inch by inch. You whimper, the pain overwhelming you. He gently shushes you, wiping away your tears.

"You're doing so well," He praises, his voice filled with love and adoration. "Just a little more, my love." He whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. With a final thrust, he fully sheathes himself inside you, breaking through your virgin barrier.

You let out a choked cry, tears streaming down your face from the mixture of pain and fullness. His strong arms wrap around you protectively, holding you close while you both adjust to the intense sensation. "I know it hurts now," he whispers, kissing your temple gently.

"But it will start feeling good soon, I promise," He murmurs, slowly rolling his hips, moving inside you with gentle thrusts. You gasp at the unfamiliar feeling, your inner walls clenching tightly around him. He groans softly, his face contorting with pleasure.

As he continues to move, the pain begins to fade, replaced by a strange, tingling sensation. You find yourself arching into his thrusts, seeking more of the unfamiliar feeling. He smiles against your skin, his hips moving faster, deeper, filling you completely with his human cock.

His hands roam your body possessively, his touch gentle yet firm. He lifts your leg over his shoulder, opening you up even more to his deep thrusts. You can feel him hitting a spot inside you that makes you whimper and arch your back, seeking more of the strange sensation.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest as he holds your leg in place, hitting that spot inside you over and over again. "You like that?" He growls, his voice hoarse. You can only whimper in response, your nails digging into his back as you cling to him.

He demands, his voice a low, possessive snarl as he continues to fill you with his human cock. "Say you're mine." His pace is brutal, his hips snapping against yours as he claims you completely. "Say it, my little mermaid."

Your body responds to his commands, arching into him as he slams into you again and again. "I'm... I'm yours." You gasp out, the sensation becoming too intense. He lets out a satisfied groan, one hand gripping your waist while the other tangles in your hair.

His pace becomes frantic, each thrust hitting deep inside you as he loses control. "Cum for me," he growls, one hand finding its way between your bodies to rub firm circles on your clit. "Squeeze my cock with that tight pussy, let me feel you come apart."

His words push you over the edge, your body convulsing as he continues to pound into you. He buries his face in your neck, his hot breath and grunts filling your ears as he finds his release, filling you completely with his hot seed. "Mine."

He repeats, his body shaking with his orgasm as he holds you close, his cock still throbbing inside you as he rides out his climax. Finally, he collapses onto you, both of you panting heavily as you try to catch your breath. "Fuck." he mutters, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

After a few moments of recovery, he rolls off of you and pulls you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. "You're mine now," he says possessively, his hand resting on your hip. "And I'm never letting you go."

He nuzzles your neck, his hands roaming possessively over your body as he marks you with his scent. "My woman," he murmurs, his voice rumbling against your skin. "My everything."

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of possessiveness, love, and satisfaction. "I love you, little one," he says softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "And I'll spend every day showing you just how much you mean to me."

#enhypen #enhypen × reader #kpop smut #leeknot #enha #× reader #jungwon smut #jungwon × reader #jungwon #enhypen oneshots #jungwon oneshots #smut #enha smut #jungwon imagines

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scarletwinterxx · 3 days ago

Text

benefit of friends - kim mingyu imagine

god really made this man to be the most perfect one😭 how to get your own kim mingyu (asking for a friend) lol anyways hope you like this one!

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pic not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve always been good at compartmentalizing.

Work is work. Fun is fun. Feelings? Well, they’re like those receipts stuffed into your wallet... you’ll deal with them later.

Your arrangement with Mingyu, your ridiculously handsome coworker-turned-“friend-with-benefits,” was supposed to fall neatly into the “fun” category.

No strings, no expectations, no messy emotions.

But tonight, at the company dinner, you’re beginning to realize that neatly labeled boxes have a way of getting jumbled when Mingyu’s around.

The restaurant is buzzing with chatter, glasses clinking, and the hum of soft music in the background. His deep, warm laugh carries over the noise, drawing glances from everyone at your table. He’s always been effortlessly charming, with his broad shoulders, that perfect smile, and a sense of humor that’s impossible to resist.

And right now, someone else seems to have noticed.

A junior marketing associate, her name slips your mind, but she’s all bright eyes and flirty giggles. She's leaning just a little too close to him. Her hand grazes his arm as she laughs at something he said, and you swear you see her fingers linger there for a moment longer than necessary.

Your chest tightens, and you quickly take a sip of your wine, hoping the bitterness will drown the unfamiliar feeling clawing its way up your throat.

Jealousy.

It’s ridiculous, really. You and Mingyu aren’t together.

You’ve both made it clear: this is casual. Easy. No messy emotions, remember?

So why does it bother you so much when he leans in to whisper something to her, his grin widening as she laughs again?

“Are you okay?” a colleague asks, pulling you out of your spiral.

“Yeah, fine,” you reply, forcing a smile.

But your eyes can’t help darting back to Mingyu.

Later, as the group begins to thin out, people leaving one by one, you make your way to the bar for another drink.

You need something. Anything to steady your nerves. You’re swirling your glass idly when you feel someone slide onto the stool beside you.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Mingyu says, his voice low and teasing.

You don’t turn to look at him immediately. “I’m just tired,” you lie.

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning a little closer. You can feel the warmth radiating off him, and it makes your heart race.

“Tired? Or… distracted?”

That gets your attention. You glance at him, and he’s watching you with that playful glint in his eye, like he already knows exactly what’s on your mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, feigning indifference.

“Oh, don’t you?” He grins, and it’s infuriatingly attractive. “You’ve been glaring daggers at poor Mina all night.”

So that’s her name. Mina.

“I wasn’t glaring,” you snap, a little too defensively.

He laughs softly, leaning even closer until his shoulder brushes yours. “You were. And, for the record, it was kind of cute.”

“I wasn’t jealous, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Really?” His voice drops, and suddenly the air between you feels charged. “Because it looked a lot like jealousy to me.”

You turn to face him fully, ready to argue, but the words catch in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you—intense, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips before meeting yours again.

“Mingyu,” you start, but your voice comes out softer than you intended.

“Relax,” he says, smirking. “I wasn’t interested in her, anyway.”

Your heart stumbles over itself, and you hate how much that admission makes your pulse race. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, turning back to your drink.

“Maybe,” he says, his voice warm and teasing, “but you like me anyway.”

The car ride home is quieter than usual. Mingyu insisted on sharing a ride, though you suspect it’s less about convenience and more about prolonging the teasing

As the car pulls up to your apartment, you hesitate for a moment. You should say goodnight and leave it at that.

But when Mingyu’s hand brushes yours as he moves to open the door, your resolve wavers.

“Want to come up?” you ask, your voice casual, though your heart is anything but.

He smiles knowingly. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Your apartment feels smaller with Mingyu in it. The tension that’s been simmering all night seems to boil over as he follows you inside, his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“You know,” he says, his tone teasing but softer now, “if you’re going to get jealous every time someone flirts with me, we might have to renegotiate this whole ‘just friends’ thing.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you say again, though even you don’t believe it this time.

“Sure,” he says, stepping closer. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can come up with a retort, his hand cups your cheek, and suddenly you forget how to speak.

“Mingyu,” you whisper, but he cuts you off with a kiss—soft at first, almost tentative, before it deepens. His other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

You don’t remember moving, but somehow you end up against the kitchen counter, his lips trailing down your neck as your hands tangle in his hair.

“You’re impossible,” you murmur, though it comes out more like a sigh.

“And yet,” he says, his breath warm against your skin, “you keep me around.”

His lips find yours again, and this time there’s no teasing, no games, just the kind of intensity that leaves you breathless and wondering how you ever thought you could keep this casual.

Later, as you lie tangled together on your couch, his arm draped lazily over your waist, you realize your carefully labeled boxes have completely unraveled.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with that.

It starts at a casual get-together with some of your friends. Mingyu wasn’t supposed to come. You invited him half-jokingly, figuring he’d have better things to do on a Friday night. But to your surprise, he’d shown up, effortlessly sliding into the group as if he’d always been part of it.

And now, you wish he hadn’t.

Not because you’re upset he’s here.

Far from it.

Mingyu has a way of making everything more fun. It’s just that you’re too aware of him, standing across the room, his eyes flicking to you every few seconds like he’s keeping tabs on you.

You’re talking to a guy.

what was his name again? Jae? Jin? Mingyu thought to hinself.

The guy has clearly been angling for your attention all night but you don’t notice. You’re oblivious to the way he leans a little too close when he speaks or the way his hand brushes yours unnecessarily as you reach for your drink.

Mingyu notices, though.

From his spot by the makeshift bar, he’s gripping his glass a little too tightly, his jaw clenched as he watches the scene unfold. He tells himself it’s fine—you’re not his, and he has no right to feel this way. But when Jae-or-whatever laughs a little too loud at something you’ve said, leaning in like he’s about to touch you, something snaps.

Before he knows it, he’s crossing the room.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, his voice smooth but laced with an edge as he steps between you and Jason, casually sliding his arm around your waist. “Didn’t realize you’d made a new friend.”

“Mingyu? What are you doing?” You blink up at him, surprised

“Just thought I’d check in,” he says, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. His gaze shifts to Jason, who suddenly looks less sure of himself. “Who’s this?”

Jason clears his throat. “Uh, I’m Joon. We were just talking.”

“Talking, huh?” Mingyu says, his smile sharp. “That’s nice. But I think she’s good here.”

“Mingyu—” you start, but he’s already steering you away, his hand firm on your lower back.

You glance back at Joon, who’s standing there awkwardly, but Mingyu doesn’t let you linger. He leads you out onto the balcony, where the cool night air hits your skin.

“What the hell was that?” you ask, spinning to face him.

“What was that?” he counters, his voice low and tense. “That guy was all over you.”

“He was not!” you protest. “We were just talking.”

“You’re so oblivious sometimes, you know that? He wasn’t just talking, he was hitting on you.”

You cross your arms, irritation bubbling up. “And what if he was? It’s not like you get to decide who I talk to.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then he steps closer, the tension between you crackling like electricity.

“Maybe I don’t,” he says quietly, his voice dangerously calm. “But I didn’t like it.”

Your breath catches. His proximity, the intensity in his gaze—it’s overwhelming

“Why do you even care?” you ask, though your voice is softer now, less sure. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and suddenly the world feels smaller, like it’s just the two of you on that balcony.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

Your heart pounds as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours

“I care,” he murmurs, his voice rough with something that feels too big to name, “because you’re mine.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable.

“Mingyu—”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours with a desperation that leaves you breathless. It’s not soft or tentative like before—it’s possessive, claiming, as if he’s trying to prove something to both of you.

You don’t resist. Instead, you pull him closer, your fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt as his hands slide to your waist, gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

When you finally break apart, both of you breathing hard, he rests his forehead against yours again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know we said no feelings. No strings. But I can’t help it. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you.”

Your chest tightens, and for once, you don’t push him away. Instead, you reach up to trace the line of his jaw, your touch soft.

“You’re an idiot,” you say, but there’s no heat in your words. “But I guess you're my idiot.”

His smile is equal parts relief and triumph. “Damn right I am”

Back inside, the party continues without you, but neither of you cares. You end up in your apartment again, the tension between you finally boiling over.

This time, there’s no hesitation, no teasing. Just the two of you giving in to what’s been building for weeks. His hands are everywhere, mapping every inch of your skin like he’s memorizing you, and when you pull him down onto the couch, he follows without question.

“Say it again,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice rough and low as his lips trail downward.

“Say what?” you manage, your breath hitching as his hands slide under your shirt.

“That you’re mine,” he says, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. There’s something vulnerable in his gaze, hidden beneath all the confidence.

You cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’m yours,” you whisper, and the way his expression softens makes your heart ache.

“Good,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Because I’m yours too.”

And this time, when he kisses you, it feels like a promise.

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thatnonameuser · 2 days ago

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Ok y’all hear me out. I wouldn’t mind being a darling for Kalim, Leona and Malleus b/c they are rich. Maybe not Malleus b/c Lilia is like an annoying mother in law.

So what if a darling is high maintenance? (like wanting designer, having money to get their hair done and stuff)

I can see Lilia “beating” the high maintenance out of the darlings LOL

I also wouldn’t mind, the economy’s in shambles and being pampered and spoiled by the wealth of the rich boys for the rest of my life, I already think they’re hot so it’s not like it’ll be hard. (Though if I had to learn the fae language I would just combust)

So you’re high maintenance, wanting to enjoy only the finer things of life and nothing else. Well…..

Leona Kingscholar

Oh really? Well, if it’s that easy to buy your affection then expect his wallet to be in your lap before you finish your sentence.

Leona’s a prince who doesn’t even keep an eye on his wallet. (Seriously, he just tosses it at Ruggie and goes about with his day), so if you ever bring up some money problem, he’ll just toss his wallet at you and just not ask for it back. Plus, his royal blood is actually good for something, so putting you in the lap of luxury others can’t access is easy for him.

Expect to be his pillow for a while though, he’s not a nice guy so you gotta pay him back somehow….

Gift Preference - Doesn’t have one. He either gives you what you ask for or something that marks you as his.

Kalim Al-Asim

Oh, you like expensive things and just expensive things? Here you go!

Kalim already loves giving you gifts, and he never really bothers to look at the price tag when it comes to anything, and you could just say a word and he’ll get you the most expensive option of that word. Want a bag? Have one made with leather so expensive and rare, that this one is the only one in existence. Want a necklace? Have a jewelry store full of them with jewels so big, heavy and expensive they weigh a pound each! Want a new wardrobe. Et cetera, et cetera.

Though you might learn about the fact he wants to have you fitted for some special jewelry for your wrists and ankles, but they’re solid gold and encrusted with rubies! That’s good enough for you, right?

Gift Preference - Anything and Everything. Just ask. Or don’t. Either way, He will still give it to you.

Vil Schoenheit

Oh, you’re high maintenance, so is he, so you’ll get along just fine.

You can’t tell me Vil doesn’t touch anything that could sully or damage the perfection he’s spent years cultivating. You want to be high-maintenance, perfect, that's his entire lifestyle.

So, if you want to be spoiled. Fine, he knows exactly who to call and they’ll drop everything as soon as he calls them. You want to get your hair done, he has a hairstylist on speed dial that can turn straw-like hair into silk. You want a massage, he knows a very exclusive place that can make every limb of your body feel like a soft putty. You want designer clothes, all it takes is a phone call and you’ll be measured and fitted by the designers themselves.

He might make a date out of all this with you, accompanying you on all these wonderful excursions.

Gift Preference - High fashion and self-care. All his gifts make you all the more perfect.

Neige LeBlanche

You like to buy expensive things?....Is 150,000 thaumarks a month okay or…?

Neige doesn’t notice the fact you’re probably only with him for his money. He doesn’t mind if he does because he doesn’t care. You like nice expensive things, he’ll make sure you can get those nice things. He’ll send you enough money to make sure you can keep up with your tastes without issue. If the money he sends isn’t enough he’ll double it, triple it even, all for you.

Just remember that if he ever ‘slips’ that you’re only really affectionate when he’s giving you something, you’ll be in some hot water.

Gift Preference - While I personally believe that Neige prefers to make homemade gifts for you, you being high maintenance means that he’ll give you those alongside the hundreds of thousands of thaumarks for your allowance.

Idia Shroud

You just want him because he’s buying you stuff. That’s pretty shallow. Yes, he’ll still buy them for you.

Idia’s a little self aware that you would be bought solely on what the expensive luxuries he gives you. And is he going to be mad about that? No. If it keeps you close, it keeps you close so take what he can give. If anything’s wrong tell him so he can buy something better. He knows that you’re just here with him because he’s giving you stuff, but he’ll combust without your attention.

Gift Preference - Tech-based gifts, top of the line and exclusive consoles and electronics. It’s his specialty and he can hide cameras in them to watch you when you’re away.

Malleus Draconia

You enjoy being surrounded by wealth and luxury? Then he’ll bury you in a mountain of it, you deserve all of it.

Malleus is so devoted to you, so no price is too great. To him, as the prized jewel of his hoard you deserve so much. So much he can’t even give you so he’ll give you as much as you’d like. All you have to do is ask, and if he can’t figure out how to get it, he’ll go to Lilia to ask for help on how to get it.

In exchange he asks for nothing. All he wants is to bask in your radiance. But much like all the priceless treasures he’s given you, you are precious. And precious things need to be protected lest they be stolen. And he won’t allow you to be stolen.

Gift Preference - Jewels, not just in jewelry, he’ll give them to you raw and polished and all of them are bigger and heavier than the last. Have a favorite gemstone? He’ll give you a mountain of those. Nothing’s too much for you.

* * * *

Also about Lilia….. (did I make him a boy mom? I feel like I did)

Lilia is aware that your high maintenance behavior is exploiting the love your suitors have for you. But if that’s the price to buy your willingness, he’ll keep quiet. If you’re not being difficult in response, then he’ll keep out of it.

But if you’re being a demanding little princess, denying them while they spoil you, then that behavior is getting beaten out of you.

Turns out the fae super hate greed. So even if Lilia doesn’t like it he’ll put up with it for the greater good, but if you plan on being difficult then you’ll be taught a wonderful lesson on selflessness. The Fae way. And that’s the least painless way. He’ll only let up on you, if one of his boys comes to him about him being too hard on you.

* * * *

#ask #yandere #yandereverse au #yandere twisted wonderland #ask response

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eskir · 3 days ago

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new beginnings - sunday x reader

a meeting between past lovers, but one can only flee and the other is unable to chase - angst

he’s changed

(maybe that’s for the better)

but your feelings for him haven’t. every time you see him, on pictures in past newspapers, in photos saved to your phone, you find yourself reminiscing about the past. your chest aches as you remember the way that he held you so softly and gently, a smile on his face that seemed to be only reserved for you.

you can see that smile now, in public as you watch him, stuck to your seat like a statue of stone. he is in a different outfit, trying to hide himself no doubt, but you’ll always be able to recognize him. among a sea of faces, his will be the one that yours eyes gravitate to first. the yellow navy eyes, his sharp jawline, and once cold demeanor. you can still tell his emotions through the way his wings flutter, whether they’re closer to his face, neck, or eyes.

and his eyes will always gravitate towards you. as they always had, and always will. his sharp eyes noticing you sitting on a table, a beverage, your favorite, in front of you. he knows that drink well, he’s seen you drink it many times in front of him when he had time to indulge in trivialities with you.

lock eyes. pain in both.

and it’s now only you two and the silence. there is a deafening amount of silence, rushing into your ears and crushing your heart like it’s done, like how it had been doing since you couldn’t contact him again. your face, you couldn't possibly control it, is making a desperate expression, and yet you’re grounded to that chair, unable to get up and touch him. and how you wish you could touch him again, if only you could touch him once more.

“i’m sorry-“

‘i’m sorry?’ those words which he just mouthed makes your heart shatter, but you can see the way he shatters too, regret flashing on his face. you want to punch him, kiss him, cry in front of him, and yet you want to do none of them at the same time.

how could he? he just left you, and now he’s walking around without a care, without a care to reach out to you and-

-oh. he’s trembling, you notice that now. his eyes are trembling, as if he were to cry. he’s cried a lot, in the past, but now you feel as if he might just do that again. and you see the ways his wings reach up to cover his eyes, as if he was too scared to see you. he’s scared to believe it’s actually you.

and you’re scared as he turns on his heels, seeing that, as he walks up, he brings a hand to his face. he wouldn’t cry in public, he wouldn’t. but he just did. even if it's only the dropping of a few tears, he just did.

and his final words to you, words that you wish you could hear again in bed, in the morning light, as a gentle whisper in your ear, anywhere, anytime:

“-i love you, i love you so much darling.”

#sunday x reader #hsr sunday x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr #sunday #angst #i hope i have emotionally devastated you

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rbbrbikerthorp · 10 hours ago

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Homeward Bound (Part 3)

I was jolted awake by alternating slaps across my face, the sting burning against my skin.

“Yeah, f***er, when I say wake up, YOU WAKE UP.” The voice, thick with a Mancunian accent, was a growl that echoed in my skull.

I blinked, struggling to focus, but my limbs were immobile—tied with rope. All I could see from this angle were his heavy duty black boots. Another pair stepped forward, the toe brushing my cheek, and I recoiled instinctively. This pair was different: shiny black leather with thick soles and stark white laces. My gaze froze as I noticed the boot was covered in dirt..

“Fresh, just for you,” the Mancunian sneered, his tone both mocking and possessive. “Go on, clean it.” The room erupted in sniggers, a cacophony of cruel laughter.

I twisted, pulling against my restraints, but it was no use. A rough hand gripped the back of my neck, forcing my face closer to the boot. “No, you don’t,” he hissed. “You’re gonna learn respect, lad.”

“Lick.”

The word sliced through the air like a whip. I clamped my lips shut, defiant, but the price of resistance was swift. Pain exploded through my face as a fist connected with my nose, and I felt warm blood trickling over my lip. My breath hitched as I tasted copper.

The man leaned in, his breath heavy with smoke and menace. “Listen, pretty boy. We’re in charge. You do as we say, or you’ll wish you were dead.”

The boot hovered an inch from my mouth again, and I hesitated, panic warring with stubborn pride. The room’s silence became oppressive, the weight of their gazes daring me to refuse. Tentatively, my tongue flicked out, brushing the cold leather. The texture was rough, the taste bitter, with a faint salty tang that churned my stomach.

“Keep going,” he ordered, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Don’t stop until I say.”

From where I lay on the floor, I could sense Gav’s gaze drilling into me. “Better get used to the taste, posh boy,” he sneered. “There’s a lot more where that came from.”

The skinhead with the Mancunian accent leaned closer, his grin a sharp-edged weapon. “Congratulations,” he said mockingly. “You’ve been selected for transformation. We’re gonna remake you. You won’t like it while we’re at it, but when we’re done, you’ll be thanking us. Oh, and for now, you call me ‘Boss.’ The rest of the lads? ‘Sir.’ Understood?”

“Right, lads,” Mick cut in, his tone businesslike. “Let’s get him in the chair.”

My heart sank as my eyes locked onto the chair he was talking about. It sat hulking on the far side of the room, a monstrous hybrid of wood and metal, its surfaces stained with something dark and unsettling. Heavy leather straps dangled ominously from the armrests and legs.

“Wh-what do you want?” I croaked, forcing the words out through a throat that felt like sandpaper. My voice was faint, but it was enough to pause them for a fleeting moment.

Mick crouched in front of me, his icy gaze drilling into mine. “What we want,” he said slowly, savouring each word, “is to see if you’ve got what it takes.”

“What it takes for what?” Panic edged my voice sharper.

Mick smirked, a predator toying with its prey. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Laughter erupted from the group as they hauled me up, untied me, and dragged me toward the chair. Despite a desperate surge of resistance, my struggles were no match for the practiced efficiency of their hands. They strapped me in, the leather biting into my wrists and ankles, rendering me utterly helpless.

The youngest-looking skinhead hesitated, his doubt visible in the flicker of his eyes. “You sure he’s the right one?” he ventured timidly.

Boss rounded on him with a glare that could turn milk sour. “Course I’m sure. What’s the matter? Getting squeamish now?”

“No, it’s just…” The young one shuffled nervously. “He’s older than the others. Doesn’t seem like he’ll last long.”

“That’s the bloody point,” Boss snapped. “If he can’t handle it, he’s no use to us. Our Midlands friend has… let’s say very specific tastes.”

Cold dread coiled in my stomach as I tried to decipher their cryptic words. Handle what? Who was their friend? My mind raced, desperate for answers, while my eyes darted around the dimly lit room. It revealed nothing but an old sofa, a coffee table littered with cans of Special Brew, and a single bare lightbulb casting harsh shadows.

“This is where it starts,” Mick said, crouching down into my line of sight with a wicked grin. “You’re gonna become one of us. Whether you like it or not.”

My attempt to protest came out as a dry croak. Another skinhead—lanky, tattooed, and radiating malice—stepped forward with a buzzing set of clippers.

“First,” he sneered, “that office-worker haircut is going. Actually, your whole normal-bloke look is going.”

The clippers roared to life, and I felt the vibration against my scalp as clumps of hair tumbled to the floor. I squirmed against the restraints, but the straps held firm. The group cheered and jeered as my identity fell away in ragged tufts.

CLACK!

Just as I thought the humiliation might subside, Boss leaned in, his face mere inches from mine. His eyes locked onto mine with an unnerving intensity. “Mmm, looking better already,” he murmured, a smirk curling his lips. “But this? This is just the beginning.”

The youngest skinhead emerged from the shadows carrying a bowl of hot soapy water and a rag. My stomach churned at the sight. The rag looked filthy, its edges frayed and stained. He scrubbed at my face and neck with rough efficiency, his movements methodical under the approving stares of Mick, Gav, and Boss. When he was done, Mick handed him a can of shaving foam and a fresh razor.

“Now stay still,” Mick said, his voice mockingly sweet, “while I shave you smooth. Cue-ball smooth.” He dragged out the word ‘smooth’ with exaggerated glee, earning chuckles from the group.

I sat rigid as the razor scraped against my scalp. By the time he finished, the others descended on me, gleefully rubbing my freshly denuded head like it was some grotesque trophy.

Gav returned, carrying a large laundry bag. He tipped its contents onto the floor in front of me. Boss stepped forward, scissors in hand, and began cutting away at my clothes. Stripped down to my underwear in moments, I felt my last vestige of dignity vanish.

Gav unstrapped my wrists and ankles. “You can take those off yourself,” he said, gesturing to my remaining clothing. “Yeah, you’re going commando now, mate. Just like the rest of us. Now, get into yer new clobber.”

I hesitated, but a sharp slap to the back of my head reminded me resistance wasn’t an option. Under their watchful eyes, I reluctantly dressed in the outfit they’d laid out: cut-off jeans mottled with white patches, crusty off-white socks, and a black top that stretched over my newly shaved scalp.

Mick knelt in front of me to lace up the heavy black boots they’d forced onto my feet. The weight of them felt alien, grounding me in this surreal nightmare. When I stood, Mick stepped back to appraise me like an artist evaluating his work.

“Not bad,” he said with a nod. “But a look isn’t enough. You’ve got to think like us. Act like us. And that’s gonna take work.”

The group murmured in agreement, their faces alight with anticipation.

“What do you want from me?” I rasped, my voice barely audible.

Boss’ grin widened into something monstrous. “Oh, we’re gonna teach you everything, mate. From now on, you’re one of us. But first? We’ve got to break the old you down to nothing.”

His words hit me like a gut punch.

As the skinheads closed in, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent, I realised the person I’d been before stepping onto that train was slipping further away, piece by piece.

#ranger boots #bleachers #skinhead #skinhead transformation

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ghostgirl-22 · 9 hours ago

Text

I’m already 100% sure I won’t keep up with all of these but let’s start anyway! Happy December!

Day 1: Undressing

CW: 18+ !NSFW!

Pair: Artashrick (where Art wears a lacy red corset and everybody cheered)

POV!Patrick

——

Patrick joins Tashi and Art at the Christmas fundraiser at Lily’s school. It’s adults only, a whole black tie affair in some expensive hall in New York City. They’re dressed up all gorgeous when Patrick arrives. Art’s in the typical suit and tie. He’s playing with his cuff links all night. Skin a little flushed, probably because of the spiked eggnog. Tashi’s dressed up in red. This fucking barely there, skin tight, slip dress. Fabric so soft it feels like butter. Patrick knows because he’s touched it quite a few times under the banquet table.

Patrick’s not the only one who’s been watching her all night. Wanting her. Watching as it pours over her body, shimmers while she moves. All the husbands are trying (and failing) not to stare.

They’re trying to raise money for all the upcoming events so they hold an auction, tennis lessons with Tashi Donaldson. Art promises to be there for a lesson or two… just to up the price but it sells for more than enough when half of the single dads and teachers fight to outbid each other as she stands on stage trying and failing to look anything less than stunning.

The moms are no better. Art’s one of the more famous dads, possibly the most famous at their school, and the wives are constantly in his face, flirting, asking about tennis. Asking if he would be interested in participating in this year's Santa strip tease?

All for charity of course.

He says no over and over, and Patrick starts to feel bad because he’s getting all warm and anxious from the attention. At least that’s what Patrick thinks. During one of the many faculty performances, Patrick notices Art is sitting on his chair squirming and Tashi’s rubbing his thigh, lightly. Patrick catches his eye and he bites his lip, getting up from the chair. Patrick is curious so he follows him to the bathroom.

“You feel sick?” Patrick asks, gently but he doesn’t look sick. No Patrick recognizes that look. Knows it so fucking well. He doesn’t wait for Art to respond, just grabs him and presses him up against the sink. Art moans, looking back at Patrick in the mirror, wiggling his hips along Patrick’s crotch.

“I can’t fucking do it, I need to go home and take it off,” Art whines.

“Take what off?” Patrick asks, he pulls at the tie loosening it. His mind is going to crazy places, imagining that Tashi put him in a cock ring. Or maybe shoved anal beads inside him.

“I’m not supposed to tell you but she wants me to wear it all night,” Art says quietly.

The bathroom door opens suddenly and Patrick takes only the slightest step back. A man walks in and nods at them, smiling at Art but also looking mildly curious. Luckily he heads over to the urinal without making it weird. Art leaves the bathroom and Patrick adjusts himself and then follows.

“What’s going on with him?” He asks Tashi when he gets back in the banquet hall.

”Nothing,” she smiles and shrugs her shoulders. “Just a little surprise. You’ll see.”

For the rest of the night Patrick’s loses focus. All he wants is to take them home. Get them undressed. Figure out what the surprise is.

It’s late by the time they get in and he’s still wired on spiked egg nog, dancing, and silly Christmas games. He knows Lily is at a sleepover. That he can stay over all night. But he’s still so impatient he cant even wait for the bedroom. He starts grabbing at Art’s waist as soon as he gets his coat off.

He can feel something stiff on Art’s waist and he starts undoing the buttons on his shirt. Pulling at them when he gets a peek at the red lacy corset.

“Oh…” Patrick says. Something breaking inside him. “Oh fuck.”

“Do you like it?” Tashi giggles.

Art is flushed pink. “Laugh it up, Patrick. Ha ha ha,” he says weakly.

“More like ho ho ho,” Tashi smirks, she stands next to Patrick and grabs at Art’s pants, undoing the zipper. He’s wearing matching red panties, barely holding his fully erect cock and balls in and there’s a garter belt… holding up sheer red lace thigh high tights.

“You did so good, baby.” she says softly, reaching in to rub his leaking cock and then tasting her fingertips after.

Art lets out a strangled moan, and starts pawing at her dress.

“Wait, let him look at you,” Tashi says, softly, steadying him.

Patrick is reeling, Art was in this all night. All fucking night and Patrick had no idea, he thinks he might pass out. “Fuck,” he whispers, as he reaches out a shaky hand and palms at Art’s cock. He's so warm and full and he instinctively starts thrusting himself along Patrick’s palm, eyes closed, so needy. “Fuck,” Patrick whispers again.

“Right?” Tashi says, “I picked it out myself. But we had trouble getting on, huh?” She says gazing at Art, brushing the hair back from his forehead. “He couldn’t keep it soft, the lace was driving him crazy. So we had to fuck a few times just to calm him down. He almost messed up my dress.”

“God what a fucking slut,” Patrick whispers softly.

“I know. Such a horny little slut,” Tashi giggles. “Can’t even wear panties without needing to be fucked.”

“’m not a slut,” Art whines, he leans back and forth on his bare feet, letting the dress pants fall to the floor before stepping fully out of them. The lace panties riding up showing off his ass. He starts to pull at the corset like he wants to get it off.

“Oh no…sweetheart, just wait a minute.” Patrick says, breathlessly stopping his movements. “We’re gonna have to take that off nice and slowly, okay?”

#patrick zweig #art donaldson #tashi duncan #challengers fic #challengers smut #deck the halls

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dedeinthewild · 19 hours ago

Text

paul aron x reader, bestfriends to lovers (one bed trope)

~ “Don’t turn this into one of those crappy films I hate.”

“I’m full to the brim,” Dino said, sitting on the couch of the house he had rented in Italy after eating the carbonara that Paul had decided to prepare with the girl sitting next to him.

“You’re always so dramatic, it was just a plate of pasta!” she scolded him, sitting on a stool and sipping from her glass.

“He lives off chicken and zucchini, so I’m not surprised,” Elvira laughed, clearing the table and tidying up from dinner with the Estonian, who was whistling a popular tune while loading the dishwasher.

That evening, the two Swedes had invited them over for dinner before they left the next day to visit their families, while Paul planned to go see his sister in Rome.

Paul and the other girl loved visiting Dino, even though she wasn’t a big fan of sleeping away from home and hated being an inconvenience. Somehow, every time they stayed over, they’d find themselves awake at two in the morning, revealing parts of themselves that never seemed to surface during the day when their brains were alert and logic prevailed.

“Just admit you love her cooking,” teased the blond as he washed his hands, wearing the slippers Dino had lent him.

“You can’t talk while wearing those,” retorted the DAMS driver, running his hands through his hair.

Paul scoffed, walking over to the two girls and noticing how late it had gotten. Since they had to wake up relatively early the next morning, he suggested they get ready for bed, stretching his arms to loosen his shoulders.

“You’re no fun,” his friend said, pouting playfully as he grabbed his backpack and asked her if she needed hers.

“The bathroom upstairs is yours,” Elvira said, addressing the two of them as she sprawled out on the couch next to Dino, who was idly fiddling with the TV remote.

So the Estonian and the girl climbed the spiral staircase leading to the loft where they’d be spending the night, walking past the hallway to reach the bathroom.

“You won’t freak out if I change in front of you, right?” he asked.

“I’ve seen your chest more often than my books,” she joked, setting her makeup bag on a small cabinet and standing in front of the large mirror.

The driver laughed, pulling off the black shirt he was wearing, leaving himself in just his sweatpants. He managed to get stuck in the neck of his t-shirt, flailing his arms as he freed himself, messing up his curls in the process. She shook her head slightly, amused, while she brushed her hair and tied it into a soft braid to protect it overnight.

“I love them,” she said, referring to Dino and Elvira.

“They’re a bit too ‘oh, she’s the love of my life’ if you ask me,” the blond said, imitating his former teammate’s voice from their Prema days.

“But they’re still cute.”

“Am I wrong, or are you softening up?” the Estonian asked, leaning against the wall behind her, crossing one arm over his chest while running some oil through his curls, which looked so soft they seemed to beg for her to run her hands through them.

“You can say it if you want a boyfriend; I can get to work.”

Paul always joked about that, threatening to use his connections and friends all over the world to find her someone who could make her feel loved. But she always maintained she was fine without it, didn’t want anyone, and was perfectly content with her life as it was.

“Stop it. I don’t want some stupid guy chasing after me,” she said, crossing her hands at the hem of her shirt, about to pull it off.

Paul turned around, giving her space, shoving his hands into his pockets as he thought.

“If anyone would, obviously,” she added, taking off her shirt and carefully folding it into her backpack.

“Even my brother would,” the driver joked, using the moment to swap out his sweatpants for a clean pair to sleep in.

“Was the pasta good?”

“Promise you’ll kill me if I ever say no,” the Estonian laughed, turning back only when he was sure she was dressed and comfortable. He looked at her reflection in the mirror, noticing how different she seemed without her glasses, her hair tied back softly, and her tired eyes revealing the end of a long day. She wore a faded, oversized pajama set that seemed to be the most comfortable thing Paul had ever seen, even though she was practically drowning in it.

“You should cook it for Karl sometime.”

“Estonia’s not exactly practical to get to,” she smiled, picking up Paul’s shirt that he’d abandoned on a chair.

“Do they allow dishes on planes?”

“I’ve never tried sneaking my grandma’s lasagna onto a Ryanair flight.”

He smiled at her, grabbing his toothbrush from the glass where he’d left it the night before when he arrived alone, hours before she joined them that afternoon.

In doing so, he leaned against the sink, brushing past her back slightly before sitting on the closed toilet lid to brush his teeth.

“What?” she asked, turning toward him, her voice muffled by toothpaste foam.

“Nothing,” he replied, looking at her through his blond curls. “You look like a gnome.”

“Screw you!”

But then she looked down, noticing the heap of fabric pooling around her ankles, covering part of the slippers she had hastily grabbed from home before catching the train.

“Shut up,” she said, turning back to rinse her mouth while Paul laughed like an idiot.

“Are you ready?” The Estonian dressed and headed for the bathroom door, watching her as she organized her things and hummed the tune he’d been whistling earlier.

“Let’s go,” she smiled, feeling refreshed.

But when they reached the loft bedroom, a surprise awaited them.

“Do you seriously want us to sleep in a double bed?” they both asked in unison, leaning on the railing and looking down at the couple watching a TV show on the couch below.

“I figured you’d be comfortable,” Dino replied, hands clasped behind his head.

“Maybe if you’d asked first,” Paul said, worried that she wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing a bed with him.

“It’s okay,” she shrugged, putting her makeup bag and other belongings into her backpack, which she left in a corner of the room.

Paul turned, pleasantly surprised, offering a sweet smile. His short sleeves covered part of his toned biceps.

“Are you sure? I could sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t turn this into one of those crappy films I hate.”

“We’ve got a higher budget,” the driver joked, staying beside the bed.

“Can I sleep by the window?” she asked, biting the inside of her cheek as she looked into his striking blue eyes.

“Are doors scary for you?” he teased, climbing onto the side of the bed she didn’t want.

“None of your damn business, Barbie,” she shot back.

They settled in, plugging in their phones and arranging the pillows to get comfortable, noticing how much the bed felt like a cozy den.

“Don’t snore,” Paul said, turning onto his side, thinking she might want to sleep back-to-back to maintain a bit of distance.

She yawned, rubbing her eyes. “I could talk, but I don’t usually snore,” she smiled, brushing short strands of hair away from her face as she turned toward the driver and touched his arm to make him roll over.

“Talk?”

“Forget I said anything.”

“I wanted to play cards, but this bed is making me sleepy,” the Estonian whispered, watching her pinch her arm beneath the pillow while propping her head up with the other hand.

“Right?” she agreed, finding the warmth, the fabric softener’s scent, and the idea of waking up to breakfast with her friends lulling her eyelids shut.

“If you’re a good sleep buddy, I might bring you to Abu Dhabi,” Paul said as if he didn’t already have the tickets and passes ready on his computer.

“I can’t,” she chuckled.

“After a night of sleeping next to me, you will,” he replied, sweetly closing his eyes as he reached out to turn off the light. A few cookies dipped in milk, an avocado toast. Her body near his, carrying that unmistakable scent her skin took on from the perfume her mother had gifted her.

“Good night,” she said, adjusting herself one last time.

“Sleep well,” he smiled, his mind already clouded by sleep.

“And you were the one who wanted to play. God, you’re like a baby,” she teased.

“Shut up and sleep,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to his chest so she could feel the soft fabric of his pajamas and tangle her legs with his athletic ones.

A croissant, a nice cup of honey tea.

Paul’s hands on her back, covering entire portions, and his arm holding her shoulder and face as if to protect her.

Dino and Elvira had planned it perfectly.

Because between one caress and the next, that night would not be easily forgotten.

~ not proofread or anything, but it's just out of my need of having a Paul, and I wanted you to read it as well :)

(I'm so so happy for his first win I'm becoming annoying)

#f2 #f1 #motorsports #prema racing #f3 #formula racing #writing #paul aron #paul aron x reader

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joezworld · 2 days ago

Text

Christmas Story

Haltraugh Station, November 30, 1984

“Late again…” Duck chided gently as Oliver rumbled in with the mid-day train.

“Oh button it!” Oliver snapped from in-between Isabel and Dulcie. “I can’t help it if the train’s standing room only!”

This was becoming a standard back-and-forth, and Duck rolled his eyes. “Ah well, at least it can’t get worse, eh?” he griped sarcastically.

Oliver didn’t even dignify that with a response, and Dulcie sighed in relief as a large group of passengers departed en masse.

In short order - although not short enough for Oliver’s already-late schedule - both trains set off down the single track line in opposite directions. It’s not even December yet! Duck thought to himself. Where on earth are these people going?

It was a legitimate question. Over the years, the number of passengers had grown, but this year - specifically this Christmas, was well above average, and both engines were already feeling the strain. Trains were getting heavier and fuller, and the number of passengers trying to press in made each station stop take ages - and on top of all that, some days they now had to take extra coaches just to meet demand, which meant that they had to run around the train because they weren’t auto-coaches, which made them later still… It was a vicious cycle!

When Duck arrived at the big station, the Fat Controller was waiting for him, his pocket watch conspicuously on display. “Duck. Good afternoon.”

“Afternoon, sir.” Duck said, hoping the controller wouldn’t notice-

“Ten minutes behind time today.” Damn and blast. “Almost a record, albeit one we don’t want, hmm?”

“Sir…” Duck began, plaintive.

The man held up his hand, cutting him off. “No, no, I know.” He said, eyeing the stream of passengers departing the train. “Ticket sales are up almost twenty percent since the summer. I never thought we’d have too much of a good thing.”

“That,” Duck replied. “Is one way of describing it.”

Pocketing his watch, the Fat Controller sighed, leaning on his cane as he did so. “Don’t take this as an underestimation of your skills, but you and Oliver need help. Would another engine be of more use? Or just more coaches?”

Duck sagged in relief. “Oh goodness, both!” He said quickly. “There’s not enough of us to go around as it is. Donald and Douglas can’t help much, what with all their goods trains; and heaven forbid if we need to help them - it throws the entire day into chaos!”

“I see.” The Fat Controller said seriously, just as the next group of passengers began to make their way out of the station building. “I will see what arrangements can be made. Expect something by tomorrow.”

Duck would have said something more, but the Fat Controller turned around, and was swallowed up by the crowd almost instantly.

-------

The next morning, the Fat Controller’s ‘arrangements’ arrived, in the form of Bear, resplendent in shiny Western Region Green, and a rake of chocolate-and-cream Mark 1 coaches. This pleased Duck to no end, and Oliver found it all quite amusing. “It’s like we’ve gone back in time about twenty years!” He joked.

Bear smiled warmly. “That is not lost on me. Shall we make like our appearances and have this branch all ship-shape and Swindon fashion?”

And they did. It took most of the day, but with an extra set of buffers, and - mercy of mercy, more coaches - they were able to keep on the schedule all of Saturday, and were even able to put on an extra midday train for Sunday.

It was enough to make an engine optimistic, and Oliver marveled at the lightened load on his buffers as he picked up a load of stone from the Small Railway. “It’s wonderful! He said to Rex. “We’re actually running to time. Who’d’ve thunk it?”

“Don’t say that!” the small engine hissed. “You’ll jinx it!”

“Oh don’t be like that!” Oliver laughed. “Maybe it’ll be a Christmas miracle. Can’t jinx that!” And he chuffed away down the line.

Rex took a passenger train up to the top of his line, came back, had a drink of water, and managed to goad Mike into taking a permanent way train instead of him by the time Oliver came back, several hours late, missing his autocoaches, and redder than a tomato.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he growled as his driver pulled him up to the water tower.

Rex said nothing.

“Of all the rotten luck!” Oliver grumbled anyway. “Bear gets called away on a train up to the mainland, and so I have to take his passengers - which is fine, but his coaches aren’t auto-fitted so I’ve got to run around them, and now Duck is stuck with all four of ours and I have to use the others which aren’t all day because we’re out of place. Of all the-grrrr!” He hissed angrily, steam billowing around him.

Rex and Bert looked at each other with barely concealed bemusement. Rex stayed mum, but as Oliver’s driver waved his arms in a futile attempt to clear the steam away, Bert raised an eyebrow sagely. “He did warn you about jinxing it.”

“GRRRRRRRRHHG!” Oliver vanished inside a cloud of his own steam.

----------

Stephen Hatt entered his Father’s office. It felt somewhat strange to be in here - he’d spent most of his life in this place, but now that his father had announced he was planning to retire soon, the knowledge that it would be his made the entire room feel… odd.

“Ah, Stephen, do come in.” His father said, staring intently at a precarious pile of wooden blocks.

“You called for me?” He asked, before looking at the tower again. “And what is that?”

“It’s called Jenga.” His father said, carefully removing a block of wood from the base and placing it on the top. The tower wobbled unsteadily as he did so. “It’s a children’s game. You take the blocks from the bottom and put them on top. You lose if it falls down.”

“Why are you playing it?”

“Your aunt knows the creator - I think they’re in the same ladies’ group - and thought it would be a fun Christmas gift.” The tower wobbled again, and his father stilled himself for a moment to let it subside. “But I have also found it to be a thinking tool.”

“Thinking tool?”

“Yes.” Very slowly, another block was extracted from the bottom. “Churchill did something similar during the war, you know.” The block was deposited on the top. “He’d have a bucket of mortar and a pile of bricks and would build a wall in the back garden of Number 10 whenever he needed to relax.”

“Knowing what I do about Churchill, he seemed like an odd fellow.”

Another block was wrested free, and his father looked up from the tower. “I met him once. Had I been twenty years older, he and I would have been friends, I’m sure. Your Grandfather would definitely have been, had he gone into the military.” The block was deposited on the top, giving the tower a somewhat lopsided appearance.

“I don’t know what that says about you and granddad then.”

“As you age, you must become eccentric on your own terms, lest it be thrust upon you against your will.” He looked up again. “Just think, I could be playing with dolls right now.”

Stephen didn’t quite know what to say to that, and watched as another block was slowly pulled out. The entire structure seemed to be resting entirely on one block, and it was astounding that it hadn’t fallen down. “Did you call me in here to play with blocks, or was there something you wanted?”

“Ah yes.” His father put the block down on top, and once the tower had stopped wobbling, addressed him. “What do you think we should do about the Little Western?”

Ah. It suddenly made sense. “We need another engine.”

“That sounds wonderfully simple.” His father left the tower, and began rooting around a large cardboard mailing box that was in a corner of the room, eventually producing a much smaller one labeled JENGA: THE PERPETUAL CHALLENGE. “Do we just ring up the Midland region and ask for one?”

“Honestly? Yes.” He said. “Simple is sometimes the best.”

“And you’re sure they’ll have one that can fit down that little branch?”

“Oh, it’s not for the branch.”

That brought his father’s head up. “Oh?”

He took a seat on the plush visitor chairs, careful not to disturb the desk or the tower. “The Little Western needs an extra engine for peak services - preferably a small mixed traffic engine - and we have three such engines - four, if you count James.”

“The other three being the Twins and Bear, I assume?”

“Mmhm.” He watched as his father tried reaching into the little Jenga box, before eventually turning it upside down. A small piece of paper - probably the instructions - fluttered out. “The problem is that when we’re in a situation where an engine like Henry is being overhauled, our mixed traffic engines are the first to be called to cover for him.”

“So you propose we need another dedicated mixed traffic engine?” his father said, unfurling the little piece of paper.

“I certainly think so.”

“Hmm.” His father made a noise as he inspected the instructions. “That would make more sense.”

“What?”

“This is a two player game.”

“It took you this long to realize?”

“Mmhm. Why don’t you pull a block?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. I’ve seen how high your eyebrows have raised. You have a go at it then.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, and went for a block at random. The tower wobbled, and stilled his hand.

“Are you sure that bringing in a new mixed traffic engine would solve the problem?” His father chose that moment to get back on topic.

“What?” Stephen asked as he hunted for a block that wasn’t so precarious. “Yes. Another engine on the main would ease traffic there when it’s not on Little Western.” Aha. There was a loose block, and he pulled it out and set it on top with a minimum of wobbling.

“And what happens when traffic picks up on both?” His father strode over and plucked a block out of the second from the bottom row with almost no effort. “Christmas doesn't happen only in Arlesburgh, you know.”

Stephen goggled as his father set the block on top with a plink, the tower not even moving a little. “You’re cheating, and you know something. Out with them both.”

“I can’t cheat physics,” His father’s eyes were fucking twinkling. “And everything I know, you know. You just haven’t put it together yet.”

“What would I do then?” Stephen asked as he pulled on another seemingly-loose block, wondering how on earth his father came up with this insane idea for a metaphor. “Do you think London would give us any engine that wasn’t a right terror? They’d have Oliver jumping at shadows within a fortnight.” The block he pulled at was stuck fast, and he had to go for another. “And I don’t think we can just go down to Dai Woodham and buy a steam engine off him - not unless we want to do it out of pocket.” The tower wobbled as he set the block on top, but it held.

“No, I don’t think we could do that.” His father admitted, as he ran his finger down one side of the tower, looking for loose blocks. “But, you are on the right track.”

“What? Is there a steam engine you know about? How could we get it?”

“As a matter of fact, there is.” There was a single block remaining at the bottom of the tower, and with a dramatic flourish, his father pulled it out.

The entire tower dropped down vertically onto the surface of the desk with a clack, but didn’t fall over.

Ignoring his son’s agog look, Charles Hatt smiled beatifically and placed the block atop the tower. “Sometimes, the best move is not the most obvious.”

Stephen was still speechless, and Charles took the time to walk back over to the mailing box. “You know, Barbara didn’t only send me that Jenga game. She actually heard about it when discussing another game her friend was making.” He hefted out a much larger box - it was green, with gold lettering on it. “This one isn’t even sold yet, but she was very kind to send us a pre-production copy.”

“Great Western Railway Game?” Stephen read the box. “What does that have to do with anything?”

His father responded by opening up the box and producing a few game cards. They were rough around the edges, clearly hand-cut; a pre-production sample, it seemed. He moved over to the desk and laid them out in front of Stephen. “We already have some pieces.”

The first card said “Paddington” and had a picture of a 57xx on it.

The next card said “Salisbury” and had… was that Oliver? It was. Looking at the first card showed that it actually was Duck on it.

“Where are you going with this?” Stephen asked.

“I,” His father said with infuriating placidity, “Am not going anywhere with this. You, however, might do well to go to Crovan’s Gate later.” He put down the last card. “Truro” was emblazoned on the top, a City class engine underneath.

The pieces suddenly fell into place for Stephen. “You’re an irritating old man who speaks in riddles.” He told his father as a bewildered grin spread across his face. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because come January I won’t be here to tell you.” His father said, placing the cards on the desk's cluttered surface. “This will all be yours to command, however you choose.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Stephen stood, collecting his coat. “And I should go now, to make those arrangements.” He made it almost to the door, before he stopped. “You know, it’s not January yet.”

“And?”

He motioned to the abandoned Jenga tower. “Two player game?”

Charles Hatt smiled broadly. “I’d be honored.”

With that, two generations of Fat Controller - one current, and one future - stepped out of the office, headed towards the platforms.

Behind them, the slamming of the door caused the Jenga tower to collapse, sending blocks scattering across the desk, and burying the engine cards.

-------------

Later that night, the Fat Controller met Duck at the big station. From several platforms away, Gordon couldn’t hear what was being said, but he could tell that it was important - perhaps Oliver was finally being told the importance of being on time?

A jaw-dropped expression turned into a giddy smile, one that threatened to crack Oliver’s smokebox clean in half. Clearly something juvenile, and Great Western (which was assuredly the same thing).

Curiosity now assuaged, Gordon put the strange workings of Western Tank Engines out of his mind, and thought nothing more about it.

A few minutes later, Duck steamed in with the next train. He pulled up right next to Oliver, who immediately began babbling about whatever the Fat Controller had said.

Again, Gordon pointedly ignored them, until Duck yelled so loud that he could be heard over the general din of the station, and then whistled for so long that his driver had to take him outside, thinking that something was wrong with the whistle!

Finally, when the uproar ended, James found time to speak up. “What was that all about?”

Gordon sighed. “I don’t know, but I imagine that we will find out in short order whether we like it or not.”

#ttte #sodor #sodor shenangians #fic #christmas story

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pathfinderslog · 2 days ago

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▫️ 𝗪𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗨𝗣!

She jolted awake, drenched in sweat, with shaking shivers of cold. Delicate snowflakes slid from her shoulders, wetting her cheeks.

“Shh, easy now Rook, you’re safe.” Neve stood beside her, panting from exertion. Her hands were bruised and icy from the abuse of her powers. Flame did not know what to say, she shook her head, still dazed, but before she could utter a word Harding threw a blanket over her shoulders, crouching next to her on the sofa. “Hey! Are you still with us?” she smiled reassuringly, nodding to Neve, who stepped away from them to sit on a chair nearby.

Flame looked around. She was back. She was in her room, the blue glow of the aquarium illuminating the room with a soft comforting light. “What happened?” she asked in a low voice.

“Well, actually we were hoping you could tell us…” Behind her, Lucanis emerged from the shadows, carrying two cups of steaming coffee, one for her and one for the other mage’s cold hands. Although he had tried to hide them under his shirt lapel and sleeves, Flame still noticed the bandages wrapping his body. She widened her eyes, but before she could say anything Neve spoke first: “When Lucanis told us you had caught fire we didn’t quite know what he meant until we saw him leap across the Eluvian with your burning body in his arms. Despite my ice spells it was difficult to move you to a safe place. Sorry Rook, but for at least an hour you were lying on the bare floor.” She smiled, trying to play it down, but Flame did not notice that.

She stared blankly at her reflection in the cup. She did not know what to say, she had a lump in her throat, she felt guilty, about everything, and she knew she had to give them an explanation, but she did not know where to begin. “I…” she began in a broken voice, but before she could continue Lucanis laid a hand on her shoulder. “I was… – we were afraid, that we had lost you.” He smiled bitterly, trying to hide his concern, in an awkward attempt to reassure her, and she, in response, threw her arms around his neck, breaking into a liberating cry.

“Oh, hey, Rook, easy… Did I say something wrong?!” the imperturbable Crow looked around embarrassed, stiffened by the pain of his wounds, but unable to react to that surprise attack.

Neve looked at him with a dejected face, shaking her head with a sigh, while Harding, who had miraculously managed to save Flame’s coffee cup before it spilled, was laughing it off under her moustache. Neve gave her an eloquent look as she walked away toward the exit “Well, I guess we’ll talk another time. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to get some rest. Lace? Will you accompany me?” – The dwarf looked at the two, then at the mage, and with a leap she caught up with her “Right, right, I have to…. Um… Water the plants!”

“No, hey, where are you going?” Lucanis looked at them pleadingly, with a distraught Rook still hanging around his neck, but the two women had now wandered off toward the library, leaving them alone.

(Special thanks to Assan for playing Lucanis in the hug 💙 - Want to read more? Continue below...)

▫️𝗦𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀

She seemed to have calmed down, at least partially, but she continued to cling to him as if he were her anchor in a stormy sea. Lucanis did not know how to react; he was torn between returning that embrace and holding her close, or trying to overcome his own instincts to stop Spite from doing something stupid. Too late. Her sweet scent had already attracted the attention of his inner demon.

“𝗚𝘪𝘕𝗀𝗲𝗿 𝘢𝘯𝖽 𝗿𝗼𝘴𝘌. 𝗦𝙝𝖺𝗋𝗉, 𝖣𝘦𝗹𝗶𝖼𝖠𝗍𝖾. 𝗧𝗮𝖲𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝗴𝘰𝘰𝖣 𝘢𝘯𝙙 𝗗𝘼𝘯𝘨𝖾𝗋𝖮𝘂𝘀. 𝗦𝘮𝖮𝘬𝘦 𝖠𝘯𝙙 𝗮𝘀𝘩𝘦𝖲. 𝘚𝘩𝗲 𝗂𝙨 𝘓𝘪𝗸𝖾 𝖴𝘀. 𝘉𝗎𝘵 𝙙𝙞𝖿𝖿𝘦𝘳𝗘𝗻𝘵. 𝗜𝙩 𝘮𝘢𝗄𝖾𝙨 𝗠𝘦 𝘸𝙖𝙣𝗍 𝗍𝘰 𝙀𝘢𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝙧. 𝙇𝖾𝘵 𝗠𝗲 𝘵𝘢𝗄𝖤 𝖺 𝙗𝘪𝘵𝗲. 𝗘𝗔𝘛 𝖧𝙀𝗥!!”

Flame could not hear the inner dialogue between the two, but as if she sensed something, she stepped away from him and at the same time Lucanis pushed her away gently. Their eyes crossed, embarrassed, then they both lowered their gazes. It was Rook who broke the silence first, rubbing her face to wipe away her tears “Sorry, sorry. I don’t… I shouldn’t have done it…”

He smiled softly – “It’s okay. It’s normal. You needed to vent, you…”

“No. Don’t…” She inhaled deeply, smiling bitterly “You don’t have to justify me all the time. I have no excuse for what I did to you. I just… I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“Your revenge, Lucanis. You were so close to Zara, and I…” She lowered her gaze, starting to intertwine her fingers nervously “I screwed up, I…” She felt her eyes fill with tears again, but tried to push them back. "And I hurt you, Lucanis. I will never forgive myself. I never wanted to..."

Lucanis stood staring at her in silence, then he caressed her cheek and gently lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes again. – Flame felt her heart miss a beat. – “Hey, I'm fine. You think that a little sunburn might bother me? Besides, you don’t owe me anything, Rook. It wasn’t your fault. The important thing is that you’re safe.” He smiled softly at her and she felt another heartbeat missing.

She slowly shook his hand away, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Anyway… I made you a promise and I intend to keep it.” she concluded, firmly.

Lucanis retracted his hand and moved away from her, walking toward the door. “And you will. In due time. Now you need to rest. See you later, Rook.”

She nodded silently, turning to look at him as he walked away; then, as if she suddenly remembered something, she called him back “Lucanis!” she waited for him to turn back “Thank you.” She smiled sweetly and he smiled back, with a brief bow of the head.

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jamandjazz · 5 months ago

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Wish I knew the difference between romantic love and platonic love.

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nottsangel · 2 months ago

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shared spaces — t.n. & m.r. & l.b.

pairing: fem!reader x theo nott x mattheo riddle x enzo berkshire. new girl au — in which you live together.

warnings: smut 18+, foursome, threeway kiss, oral sex (m. receiving), double penetration (unprotected vaginal and anal sex), fingering, bad italian probably (sorry!), creampie, praise, choking

word count: 4.6k

summary: a night of drinking with your roommates takes an unexpected turn when innocent teasing escalates into a foursome you’ll never forget.

moodboard. nav. more content.

Roommates. That’s all you, Theodore, Mattheo and Lorenzo were. Not friends, fuck no. Just… roommates. Nothing more, nothing less. Roommates you could kill with your bare hands at times, that is— especially when you were lying in bed late at night, headphones turned up to max volume, while all three boys were busy slamming their cock into whatever random girl was foolish enough to go home with them that day. Or when you came back to the cramped apartment, swung open the freezer, and discovered that they’ve eaten all the ice cream you’d been looking forward to eating all day.

Oh, how you desperately wished you were living somewhere else in those moments— anywhere, really. But unfortunately, you didn’t have a choice. You urgently needed a place after breaking up with your cheating ex-boyfriend, and this was the best you could find at that time.

But it was fine. Not great, but fine. You lived your own life, and so did they. You didn’t talk to them much��only when necessary—and avoided them as much as you could. It might sound unfriendly and hostile, you were fully aware of that, but they were too busy bragging to each other about the girls they hooked up with anyway, and you had no desire to be part of that conversation. And it was whatever. You were content like this, minding your own business. And you were planning to continue living exactly like this until you found a better place to live… But was that still what you really wanted?

After a few chaotic months of living together, everything began to change dramatically. As much as you despised these same boys not too long ago—well, you still very much do—the dynamics between the three of you had completely shifted. You weren’t just roommates anymore, no, you were… a little more than that.

What exactly, you might ask? Well, Lorenzo liked to call it RWB (roommates with benefits), which resulted in a slap to the head each time he brought it up. You flat-out refused to ever call it that. And besides, whatever the hell it was, you didn’t even want to label it.

Anyway, to cut straight to the point without beating around the bush any longer— you were having sex with your roommates. Yes, each one of them. All fucking three. The three boys that you used to fight with over the most minuscule things you could possibly think of, are now the same boys pinning you down onto your mattress until you’re drooling all over the sheets ‘cause of how good they were fucking you. It all strangely unfolded so naturally and so gradually, as if the lines between friendship and desire were slowly fading away without anyone noticing. Still, it felt wrong, it felt dirty, but god, it felt so fucking good too.

To go back to the beginning and provide some much-needed context, it all started with them sharing you, actually. But not at the same time— no, that felt far too weird and awkward. Instead, they took turns sleeping with you separately, with each one of them fucking you whenever the mood struck, which happened a lot. Just casually brushing past them in the kitchen and feeling your ass press against their crotch was enough to drag you into their rooms. And it was fucking amazing— each one of them had their own unique qualities, fucking you in ways the others couldn’t.

Theo, for instance, was great at dirty talk and foreplay. He’d shamelessly whisper filthy words to you in Italian with that low, seductive voice of his as his fingers were buried deep inside of you, curling up so perfectly— he never failed to get you dripping wet in an instant.

Mattheo was a fucking god at eating you out— he could make you cum within seconds, the way his tongue skilfully sucked on your clit had you gripping his brown locks tightly.

And Lorenzo? He could put you into positions you never knew were possible, hitting spots so incredibly deep inside of you that your legs trembled uncontrollably each time you found yourself in his bed.

But still, it had its downsides. Fucking each one of them individually meant a lot of sex and left you sore and limping around, which eventually began to exhaust you, pushing you past your limits physically. It was simply too much for you to handle. All three of their sex drives were sky-high, and you, being just one girl in a house with three boys, just couldn’t fulfil their needs all the time.

So that’s when threesomes began to happen. And ohhh, a new world opened up to you. It was exhilarating, it was experimental, it was even better than the sex before, and with all the attention on you, you couldn’t get enough. So far, you’ve explored every possible threesome combination, and their skills combined were absolutely mind-blowing. You were hornier than ever—more needy, more aroused—and so were they.

But was that really the limit? threesomes? well, you thought it was— until tonight happened. It was just another drunken night with the boys, gathered in the cosy living room, playing whatever random board games you had dug out from the back of your closet, stacked away and long forgotten since you moved in.

The evening began so innocently, filled with laughter and lighthearted chatter as you drank some leftover alcohol from a party the week prior— until you unconsciously started inching closer to them, the chilly night breeze sneaking through the windows causing you to seek more warmth. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, though. You always became touchy and clingy whenever you were drunk— everyone knew that.

But with them being intoxicated as well, they found it increasingly difficult to control themselves around you, eyeing you with hungry, lustful gazes, especially as your lace bra temptingly peeked out from under your tight-fitting top and your short skirt inched higher with every movement you made.

Usually, after one of these nights, you’d end up going to bed with one of them—maybe two if the night called for it—but there was always one of them who was too tired or had some other girl come over anyway. Tonight was undeniably different, though, and you could feel it— they all wanted you.

Lorenzo and Mattheo sat on either side of you, with Lorenzo’s wandering hand slowly trailing over your bare, goosebumps-covered thigh, sending shivers cursing through your body, while Mattheo’s hand rested around your waist under your shirt, rubbing gentle circles on your soft skin with his thumb. Their warm hands felt nice on your cold body, but you couldn’t deny the ache building between your legs at both their irresistible touches.

The scent of their musky, aromatic colognes mingled with the smell of all kinds of alcohol, filling your nostrils, as their warm bodies pressed closely against yours, causing a small, amused smile to form on your lips at the sudden realisation that there was more than enough room on the couch for both of them. But no, they wanted to sit as close as possible to you, eagerly craving the feeling of your skin against theirs, even though a barrier of fabric still separated you from them. You didn’t have to read their minds to know how badly they wanted to rip it off your body.

Meanwhile, Theo sat across from you, watching the scene before him unfold with a cocky, lopsided smirk and dark eyes, fully aware that both drunken enzo and mattheo lacked any ounce of self-control strong enough to resist you, so he lazily let them do all the work of getting you aroused and horny before joining. Occasionally, he took a slow sip from his drink, but his intense gaze never left yours, absorbing the way you reacted to their touches and he knew— under your tiny skirt, your panties were soaked already.

And god, he was right. Just the slightest, teasing touch had you dripping wet already, as their firm hands continued to roam over your body, growing more hungrily and desperately with each passing second, both of them breathing heavily on either side of you.

For a fleeting moment, you lock eyes with Theo through your drowsy gaze, his own intense eyes fixated on you as your roommates explored your body, only making you more desperate and turned on.

“Sei così calda.” Theo murmured in a low, husky voice, his eyes glued to your body, eliciting an irritated groan from Mattheo as he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Oh, shut up mate, no one can understand you.” he retorted, frustration lacing his tone. Theo simply chuckled in response, completely unfazed by him, fully aware of the underlying reasons for his annoyance. Mattheo hated it whenever Theo spoke Italian because he knew it gave him an undeniable advantage with girls, who swooned all over Theo the moment seductive Italian words flowed from his lips.

“Be nice, Matt” you warned, trying to appear stern but the alcohol cursing through your system made you uncontrollably let out a small giggle, causing Mattheo’s expression to soften too.

“I am nice. Is having my hands all over your body not me being nice, princess?” he teased with a cheeky smirk, his hand trailing down your bare back under your shirt toward your ass as his eyes hungrily gazed right at you through half-lidded eyes, a combination of lust and intoxication evident in their depths, his warm body merely inches away from yours. Your hazy, drunken state, their warm hands gliding all over your chilled skin, theo’s piercing eyes staring right at you— your head felt like it was spinning.

Suddenly, as if reading each other’s minds, both boys gently yet eagerly brushed your hair from your neck to expose it, then attached their soft lips to the sensitive skin at the same time, sloppily sucking dark hickeys into your neck from both angles. You couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan, helplessly pressing your thighs together to create some friction as Mattheo and Lorenzo breathed heavily right into your ear, sending electric shivers down your spine.

They were both becoming more and more desperate, frantically sucking on your skin, the alcohol coursing through their bodies and intense desire to have you blurring their minds and causing them to lose all inhibitions. Mattheo groaned in pleasure, taking a not-so-subtle sniff as licked your neck like a popsicle, leaving a slick trail of saliva in his wake. He felt lightheaded, completely entranced by your sweet scent and the softness of your skin, his hand greedily squeezing your waist.

“Mmm, I can, like, taste your perfume… so sweet and… a bit… alcoholic, like a— like a pornstar martini.”

“What the—” Lorenzo instantly pulled away from your neck, glaring at Mattheo with a disgusted look on his face, his top lip curling in distaste and his brows furrowed in disbelief.

“Mattheo, shut the fuck up, will you?”

“What did I do now?!”

“You’re ruining the mood, saying weird shit like that.”

“Oh, fuck off—”

Before they could bicker any further, you abruptly grasped both their jaws at the same time and gently guided their heads towards yours into a sudden kiss, your soft lips pressing against theirs as their eyes reluctantly fluttered shut.

You could tell they were hesitant at first, both of them unwilling to touch each other in any way, but the drinks they had earlier were working its magic as you quickly felt their tongues eagerly moving against yours, their hesitation disappearing in a split second.

Soon, all three of you were completely entangled in the kiss, with one of their hands on the back of your head, drawing you in, while another firmly squeezed your bare thigh, as though trying to steady himself. The world around you seemed to fade for a moment as you pulled them closer and closer, spit mixing between you three, and the usually noisy living room was unusually quiet for once, except for the sounds of heavy breathing, soft moans, and wet lips smacking together.

The tension was only rising more, all of you growing more eager with each passing second, your tongues moving in perfect harmony with each other, as though you’d done this a thousand times before. And you were yearning for even more, all of you were, your body trembling with need as your arousal slicked your thighs, dripping onto the couch beneath you. The initial hesitation to touch each other had long faded by now, desire consuming you all, thickening the air with an overwhelming mix of lust and anticipation, until—

“Alright. that’s enough.” Theo broke the silence as he suddenly stood in front of the couch, casting a dark shadow over the three of you. He assertively took your wrist and forcefully pulled you up from your seat, while both boys stared up through drowsy eyes, their swollen, spit-covered lips glistening, and your lipstick messily smudged across their flushed faces, wearing dazed and slightly bewildered expressions that hinted at their drunken state.

In one swift, fluid movement, Theo effortlessly threw you over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised squeal from you followed by a drunken giggle, as he playfully slapped your ass with an amused, mischievous smirk dancing on his lips.

The moment Theo walked into your room, he roughly threw you onto your bed, your body bouncing slightly with the impact as you gazed up at him. In contrast to the chilly living room, the temperature here was more pleasant, with the lingering scent of flowery candles you lit earlier still filling the room.

Theo approached you with a dominant air, each long step creaking on the wooden floor, sending your heartbeat racing. When he finally stood before you, he traced his thumb gently over your burning cheek, before slipping it into your mouth, making you suck on it and he groaned at the sight, his eyes darkening. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

Heat flooded your core at the sudden praise, your lace panties now uncomfortably soaked with arousal. Drool trickled from the corners of your swollen lips, his thumb still deep in your mouth as you gazed up at him with half-open, dazed eyes. His tall, imposing figure loomed over you, casting a shadow as he tilted his head in approval, drinking in the sight of you beneath him.

He slowly pulled his thumb out of your mouth, a thin trail of spit still connecting your lips to his finger before he made his way to your bed, lowering himself onto it and motioning with his hand for you to come closer. His demeanour was power-driven, cocky, and lustful, as he leaned back against the headboard, his legs spread wide, his eyes devouring you. You crawled toward him on all fours, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage, your tits nearly spilling out of your shirt as you moved.

“You look so sexy right now, I might just keep you all to myself tonight.” he growled, his voice low and commanding. He didn’t waste much time before gripping the back of your head and eagerly pulling you into a fierce, hungry kiss, his tongue dominantly entering your mouth, not wanting to waste any of the little time he had alone with you.

In the background, you could faintly hear Mattheo and Lorenzo still in the living room, their voices muffled through the thin walls as they bickered once again, but you could make out a sharp “don’t you fucking dare tell anyone about this!” and frustrated “you really can’t kiss, you know that? we’re never doing this shit again!”, followed by an exaggerated sound of gagging, causing you to giggle into the kiss.

Theo's warm hand slowly traced from your waist down to your ass, relishing the way you melted under his touch, while his other hand guided yours to his crotch, placing it over his already throbbing erection before he finally pulled away from the kiss.

“Feel how hard I am for you?” theo whispered in a low, sultry voice, the words sending a rush of heat through your body as you palmed him through his tight pants. “All this is for you, amore.”

Just then, you heard Mattheo and Lorenzo stumble down the hallway, their footsteps heavy and unsteady as they sprinted towards your room, clumsily knocking over whatever was in their way, too eager to even care, before finally stepping inside and hastily slamming the door shut.

The first view that met their eyes was your ass raised high in the air, angled perfectly towards them, your skirt having ridden up all the way over your waist, giving them a perfect view of your drenched underwear as you were bent over, hungrily kissing theo.

“Holy… fuck…”

“So— uhm, yeah, we’re— we’re here” they stammered, staring at the scene in front of them with their mouths half open and painfully hard boners visible through their pants, forming noticeable wet patches on the fabric.

Theo's hand on your ass then travelled to the waistband of your panties, teasingly sliding it down and tossing it carelessly to the floor, revealing your glistening cunt with your arousal dripping down the insides of your thighs. Both Mattheo and Lorenzo felt as if they were about to explode and could cum at the sight alone already, but were quickly snapped back to reality when you pulled away from Theo's lips and broke the silence.

“So? You’re gonna help me out or what?” you taunted impatiently with a teasing grin, feeling painfully empty as you squeezed around nothing. They both blinked erratically as they were pulled out of their trance and nodded their heads, eagerness evident in their expressions.

You soon felt both their roaming hands on your body, exploring every inch eagerly with fervent curiosity as they hastily undressed you until you were completely naked, making you more aroused with each tantalising second. You felt their hands everywhere— squeezing your ass, pinching your sensitive nipples, teasingly brushing against your aching cunt. It was driving you wild as you simultaneously unbuckled theo’s belt, staring up at him while he gazed back down at you with that smug, cocky smile that made your heart race.

“You think you can handle all of us at the same time, bella?” you nodded without a second thought, your mind completely consumed by the desperate need for all three of them as you freed Theo’s throbbing cock from his pants, instantly jumping against his stomach as precum leaked from the swollen tip.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” you parted your lips, letting a glistening trail of spit land on his cock as he intently watched you with hungry, lust-filled eyes, biting his lip in anticipation, before your mouth finally met the swollen tip. You gently swirled your tongue over the most sensitive part, causing him to let out a deep, guttural moan, meanwhile behind you, you felt a pair of fingers—you weren’t even sure whose—rubbing your clit in slow circles as you simultaneously heard the frantic unbuckling of belts.

“Just like that, baby, fuck!” Theo’s hand moved to your head, fingers threading through your hair before taking a fistful of it and pulling your hair back into a loose ponytail, ensuring it was out of your way. Your head slowly sank down, taking him all the way into your mouth until you felt the tip brush against the back of your throat and your lips pressed against his balls, causing Theo to throw his head back in pure bliss.

When you felt two fingers suddenly enter you, you moaned loudly around Theo, the sound vibrating against him as the fingers curled up perfectly against your sensitive g-spot. Feeling desperate for more, you pushed your ass back with the movements, instinctively trying to create more friction as the slick, lewd sounds of their digits pumping deep inside of your wet cunt filled the room, mixing with your soft whimpers of pleasure.

“Fuck, she’s so wet” you heard Mattheo groan from behind you as if you weren’t even in the room, his voice thick with desire as he quickly rubbed circles on your aching clit and watched Lorenzo finger you at the same time, causing your legs to shake uncontrollably, your arousal dripping all over their quick hands.

“She’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight— I can tell she wants more.” They were bringing you closer and closer to the edge, your release building with each passing second, but he was right— you wanted, no, needed more. You were craving to feel them, both of them.

“Yeah? You want more, baby? You want us to fuck you at the same time, hm?” Mattheo questioned, and you instantly pulled your lips from Theo with a soft plop, panting as soft ‘please’s desperately slipped from your spit-covered lips.

“Alright. But, uh, let me fuck her ass this time, yeah?” Lorenzo demanded at mattheo as he aggressively shoved him out of the way with his shoulder, causing mattheo to stumble to the side before retaliating with both hands pushing against his chest.

“Nah, it’s my fucking turn.”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean? I'm telling you mate, it’s my tu— alright. rock, paper, scissors to settle this, yeah?”

“Hm, fine… ready? rock…pa—“

“Oh my god, you fucking idiots. Enzo, get under me now before I lose my patience!” you snapped, drunk exasperation lacing your voice while Theo lifted himself from beneath you, shaking his head in a mix of disapproval and amusement, a grin spreading across his face.

“Whatever.” Lorenzo sighed defeatedly as he replaced Theo’s position, pulling you on top of him, his aching cock already nudging at your entrance. Theo settled beside you on the bed, swiftly passing the lube from the nightstand to Mattheo, all while amusingly watching Lorenzo make an even bigger fool of himself.

“What? You don’t want to fuck me? ‘Cause you can go jerk off in the fucking corner if that’s what you’d rather do.” You hissed at Lorenzo, glaring down at him. His eyes momentarily widened in surprise, before he shook his head in playful defiance and let out a low chuckle. Abruptly, he gripped your jaw, pulling your face close to his, and kissed you hungrily as if apologising. “Oh, c’mon baby, you know I love your pussy.”

A small, satisfied smile uncontrollably tugged at the corners of your lips as he rubbed his cock along your folds, teasing you while gazing up at you with that mischievous, sly smirk of his. He then firmly gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, and slowly pushed into your dripping cunt, hissing at the feeling of being swallowed by your warmth. You quickly steadied yourself with your hands resting on his bare chest, feeling him deep inside of you and completely stretching you out, yet still craving more.

“You ready baby?” Mattheo asked from behind you as he spread your cheeks, gazing down with hungry, lustful eyes. “Mhm, please.” You begged, your voice a breathless whisper as you heard him pop the cap of the lube off before hastily rubbing himself with it and slowly pushing into you.

Holy. Fucking. Shit. The feeling of being stretched out by both of their cocks at the same time was so intoxicating, it left you breathless and made your heart race. It was simply indescribable how good it really felt. The sensation caused you to instinctively arch your back as you clutched the sheets tightly, consumed by sheer pleasure, every nerve ending in your body tingling with electric intensity. Mattheo was now fully inside you as well and patiently waited for you to adjust to the intense feeling.

Theo then firmly gripped your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze as you stared up at him through barely open eyes and furrowed brows. “Does that feel good, hm? Having two dicks inside of you?” you nodded with your lips slightly parted in ecstasy, unable to form any coherent sentences.

“C’mon bella, use your words.”

“Feels— feels so fucking good, fuck!”

“Hm, that’s more like it. Open up baby, ‘cause we aren’t done yet.”

You obediently parted your lips wider to let Theo enter your mouth, his hand pressing against the back of your head guiding you deeper as he let out an almost primal groan, throwing his head back at the sensation of your warm mouth. At the same time, both Lorenzo and Mattheo began to move at a slow, deliberate pace, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the heavenly feeling of them stretching you out completely from both holes.

Strings of muffled curse words slipped from your lips as Theo mercilessly fucked your face, his piercing eyes staring down at you as he bit his lip, a low growl of pleasure escaping him. The other two boys quickly began to increase their pace, causing you to see stars as they could feel each other move against one another through the thin flesh that separated them, only intensifying the immense pleasure they were already feeling.

“Look at her— she can barely handle it, having three dicks inside of her.” Mattheo taunted, his hands tightly gripping the soft flesh of your ass as he relentlessly slammed into your tight hole at a brutal pace, causing you to moan loudly around Theo's throbbing erection. Your vision blurred as Lorenzo's hand moved to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it possessively, choking you just enough to make you feel lightheaded.

“You’re taking us so well, pretty girl. Doing so good for us.” Lorenzo growled as he gazed deep into your hazy eyes. Your head felt like it was spinning from the intense sensation, both of them pounding into you at a merciless pace, filling both your holes so deliciously while theo thrust into your mouth, making you gag on his thick cock.

The pornographic sounds of heavy breathing, lewd moans, and loud skin smacking completely filled the room, and you were certain you’d hear complaints from your nagging neighbours the next day, but right now, your mind was too clouded by the pleasure to even care. The feeling was beyond words and you couldn’t get enough.

“Such a dirty fuckin’ slut. One dick just wasn’t enough for you, huh? Sei tutta nostra.” Theo taunted as he slid his hand beneath you to your core, rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit while maintaining his brutal pace.

It was becoming too much as both Lorenzo and Mattheo continuously hit your most sensitive spots, quickly sending you spiralling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You moaned loudly, your eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy while your nails dug deep into Lorenzo’s chest. You nearly collapsed on top of him, but theo quickly caught you, holding you up by your jaw with a gentle yet firm grip.

Not much later, Theo and Lorenzo reached their orgasms as well, both emptying themselves deep inside your cunt and mouth while Mattheo pulled out and came on your ass, feeling his warm sperm on your skin in thick spurts, painting you white.

The four of you froze for a moment, trying to catch your breath, chests heaving up and down as if the room was spinning around you from both the aftermath of the orgasm combined with the intoxicated state you were all still very much in. Theo gently wiped the excess sperm from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, hazily smiling down at you.

Lorenzo was the first to break the silence, much to your annoyance, a lazy smile stretching across his face as he leaned back against the headboard. “So, uhm… roommates with benefits, huh?”

“NO! Stop trying to make that a thing!”

“Nice way to instantly ruin the mood, mate.”

“No offense but I’d rather cut off my own dick than refer to any of you as that.”

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

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